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captain-hawks · 4 months ago

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SOMEDAY WAS ALWAYS JUST RIGHT HERE.

hajime iwaizumi x f!reader

wc: 3.4k tags: 18+ only, friends to lovers, pining, feels, smut, grinding, fingering, unprotected p in v, praise kink, protective iwa -> requested

“I hate this place,” Iwaizumi grumbles when your group slows to a stop on the sidewalk, the neon purple sign above the entrance of the club washing his face in a vivid hue that only serves to further highlight his displeasure.

“Well, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa elbows him in the ribs, “when it’s your birthday, we’ll all stand in a room looking annoyed with our arms crossed watching paint dry or something.”

He pats him on the shoulder before striding ahead, following Makki and Mattsun inside.

It’s been almost six months since the five of you have all gotten together, thanks to the demands of full-time jobs in different cities.

You missed this.

You missed them.

Iwaizumi turns to you, like you’ll be his saving grace with some off-the-cuff excuse to get the hell out of Dodge before the other three notice you’re gone.

(But you missed him the most, this you know for certain.)

“Oh no,” you tell him. “I spent too much time getting ready to bail now.”

(Though the idea of fucking off with Iwa to some dimly-lit diner with sticky, decades-old menus and watered down soda like you used to when you were teenagers is wholly tempting—)

He sighs but follows you in all the same, albeit the slightly begrudging drag of his feet as he mutters, “I feel like I should have started drinking before we got here.”

Truth be told, if it wasn’t Makki’s birthday, you also wouldn’t really want to spend your only night in town here of all places. But without much of a choice in the matter, and with Oikawa’s none-too-subtle encouragement regarding a certain something last week, you’ve decided to make the most of it—although you’re still not going to get your hopes up.

—

Oikawa: sooo Oikawa: you said you were going shopping today for something to wear this weekend Oikawa: did you find anything

>>>: [image sent] >>>: Pick a color. I’ve been to ten stores. I’m over it.

Oikawa: well i’m partial to blue Oikawa: but iwa-chan will loooove the black dress ;)

>>>: TOORU

Oikawa: :)

>>>: You swore yourself to secrecy >>>: Please don’t say anything

Oikawa: i’m just saying Oikawa: maybe show him what he’s been missing out on~ Oikawa: absence makes the dick grow harder!

>>>: I’m blocking your number

—

You’ve been friends with the boys since your days at Aoba Johsai, and you’ve maintained an impressively solid track record at keeping your feelings for Iwaizumi buried under lock and key for just as long.

That is—until you made the horrid mistake of drunkenly bemoaning your unrequited pining to Oikawa last time you saw them all for a reunion party at Mattsun’s place. A party which happened to include Iwaizumi’s on-again off-again girlfriend.

(They’re now very much off, permanently. As of the last two months, intel courtesy of the nosey brunette who has now decided to make your mockery of a love life his latest charity case.)

Now, Oikawa falls into step beside you, Iwaizumi shooting him a suspicious glance before he shoos him off toward where Makki and Mattsun are already leaning over the bartop to order drinks.

“I told you black was the way to go,” Oikawa murmurs under his breath in a singsong voice, appraising your outfit with a satisfied smirk.

“And I still don’t think dressing nice is suddenly going to make him decide he’s in love with me,” you whisper back in annoyance.

“First of all, he’s been in love with you since high school. Second, he hasn’t stopped looking at you since we picked you up.”

You blink at him several times, chest swelling with warmth and dumbfounded confusion, but any chance of a retort dies on your lips when Iwaizumi returns to your side.

“You said you didn’t wanna drink tonight, right?” he asks, holding up a glass of what appears to be soda.

He’s always had a habit of listening to you.

Oikawa looks infuriatingly smug when he throws a glance back at you from behind him, wiggling his eyebrows for emphasis.

“Thanks,” you smile, fingertips incidentally brushing against his when he hands you the cup.

He nods, something soft flickering across his face for a brief moment, though it disappears when Oikawa starts shouting your names from afar like a scorned lover.

You try not to overthink the way his hand gently hovers against your lower back when the two of you make your way through the throng of people to find the table your friends have claimed, or the way his thigh briefly presses up against yours when you slide into the booth.

–

“This feels counterproductive,” you yell over the music to Oikawa as he drags you out onto the dance floor twenty minutes later, a few paces behind a very loud and equally inebriated Makki. Mattsun’s off getting more drinks. “Iwa will die before he comes over here.”

Oikawa’s hands hover over your hips, though there’s nothing suggestive about the touch as he casually urges you to follow the rhythm he’s already moving to. “You really have no idea, do you?”

You huff in annoyance, letting your limbs loosen up as you sway. “He’s not into me, Tooru. I don’t know what you think you’ve been seeing, but you’re wrong.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but Makki sidles up beside you with a flushed face and a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses on his head that he definitely didn’t walk in with, hands grabbing both of your arms as he pulls you deeper into the crowd.

A tall man eventually edges his way between where you’re dancing beside Oikawa, an uninvited hand falling against your hip as he leans into your space and says loud enough for you to hear over the music, “That dress looks gorgeous on you, but it would look even better on the floor.”

You blink at him, body cringing with discomfort at the sleazy look on his face and the way his hand has begun to slip lower toward your backside. While you’re not opposed to dancing with strangers to get your mind off of the man who’s probably still sullenly scrolling through his phone at the table, something about this guy’s presumptuous touch sends you reeling with discomfort.

Intending to catch Oikawa or Makki’s attention, you quickly turn, only to bump right into Iwaizumi.

His jaw is firmly set, eyes brimming with something dark as he pulls you against him, and the knot of anxiety in your chest immediately loosens at the feeling of his body heat sinking into yours.

“You good?” he asks quietly.

You nod, unconsciously pressing even closer to him, and he tightens the arm that’s wrapped around you a fraction.

“What the hell, man?” The guy glares at Iwaizumi, like he’s ruined his chances with you.

“You wanna dance with this guy?” The question is a warm huff of air against the shell of your ear.

“Absolutely not,” you tell him, eyeing the creep warily.

“She’s not interested, man,” Iwaizumi replies.

“What, you her boyfriend or something?” The guy sneers, clearly attempting to save face now. “Wouldn’t have known any better with all the guys she’s over here dancing with.”

Iwaizumi shifts forward, fist clenched. “What the fu—“

“Oooookay, time to fuck off now!” Oikawa interrupts, smoothly stepping in between the two men.

The man looks like he wants to argue more, but Matsukawa moves to stand next to Oikawa, arms crossed, and it quickly becomes a moot point as he sulks off in defeat.

Iwaizumi lets you go, though his shoulder remains pressed against yours.

“Iwa-chan, how nice of you to join us,” Oikawa coos, ruffling his hair for good measure.

Iwaizumi slaps his hand away, glaring. “Well since none of you know how to spot creeps before they become a problem.”

Oikawa offers him a patronizing smile, “We’re not all equipped to be the definition of scary dog privilege like you are.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Iwaizumi grumbles something under his breath before putting his arm around your shoulder and steering you away from the other three.

“Thanks, Hajime, but I do still want to dan—“

“I know,” he replies, coming to a stop and turning you to face him.

“So what are you—”

Your words die a spectacular death at the shallow bridge between your tongue and your teeth as Iwaizumi lifts your arms and places them around his neck, moving his own hands to your waist.

And this time, when the vivid overhead lights wash over him, his expression is soft.

“We’re dancing,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Like his fingers aren’t a burning hot brand against the curve of your hips.

“You hate dancing,” you reply dumbly.

The corner of Iwaizumi’s mouth tilts upward a little. “Yeah, I do.”

The crowd around you moves with vigor, laughing and grinding and shouting over the thrumming, pulsing music. But Iwaizumi’s hand just gently slides to your wrist, and he slowly guides you outward into a full-body spin, his eyes sweeping down your form.

When you find yourself back in your original position, albeit a bit closer than before, he adds, “But I can be convinced.”

Your heart swells.

You’ve always been attracted to Iwaizumi, endlessly fond of his dark, messy brown hair and perpetual scowl. But the years have been more than kind to him, his boyish teenage features of days long past now cut into something solid and achingly handsome in a way that leaves your gut churning with heat every time you look at him. He’s taller, and broader—though you try not to let yourself dwell on the second point much for the sake of your own sanity.

And now he’s looking at you expectantly with his stupidly attractive face, a challenge flashing in his eyes as he waits for you to move.

So you do.

For a partner that claims to hate this, Iwaizumi doesn’t miss a beat when you start to move, falling into sync with the rhythm of your body. And all you can think is how the way he holds you, the steady pressure of his hands on your waist—it’s nothing like how it was with Oikawa.

It’s borderline possessive.

Almost.

It’s a battle in and of itself to resist the urge to let your hand slide to the nape of his neck, to card your fingers through the soft, shorter hair at the back of his head.

Your insides feel raw, flammable.

Doused in years worth of longing and desire that have soaked you to the bone, left you shivering with want, pliant and porous with need.

And the audible hitch in Iwaizumi’s breath as you spin and place your back to his front is the match.

The space between your bodies closes as you lean back into him, as he pulls you in. The aftershocks of his touch spiderweb across your nervous system without mercy.

You press back into him, harder. The beat of the music overheard is lost to you, drowned out by the blood that rushes in your ears as his grip on you tightens.

“You gonna move?” he teases, voice a little rough. “‘Cause I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

Your legs bend at the knee as you drop your body down just enough, ass brushing his thighs, before rolling back up against him. His fingers flex, and he curses hoarsely under his breath.

So you do it again.

Iwaizumi’s mouth is hot when it lands just behind your earlobe, less of a kiss and more of a labored exhale. You shudder at the sensation all the same, and he turns just enough to drag his nose down the side of your neck.

“Hajime,” you gasp.

He lets out a sound that sounds like a broken off laugh, low and abrupt and a little incredulous.

Turning your head, your lips nearly meet, the layer of saliva coating yours prickling against the warmth of his breath that breaches the gap.

Iwaizumi, as it turns out, is a quick study.

He drags your hips in a rolling motion, rocking forward into you, mouth finding purchase where your neck and shoulder meet. And he does kiss you this time, a hot, slick brand against your skin, your neck, one that sinks in deeper as you breathe out his name again with need punctuating each syllable.

You’re dizzy on your feet.

And he’s ridiculously hard against you.

Giving in to an urge that spans years beyond this moment, you reach back, dragging your fingers through his hair from the front. You can feel the way he shudders against you.

“I think I’m done dancing,” you breathe out.

He doesn’t misunderstand your meaning.

You text Oikawa to let him know you’re heading out, both to save time and to avoid being on the receiving end of what you can only assume will be his most smug look yet.

The taxi ride back to Iwaizumi’s apartment is quiet, but his pinky rests against yours in the middle of the leather backseat.

He helps you out of your heels as you step through the doorway, his fingers lingering against your ankles as he slips open the buckles.

And you’re sixteen again, biting the inside of your cheek as Iwaizumi kneels in front of you at the run-down local roller rink and tightens the laces on your skates.

He gets you a cold glass of water.

You’re nineteen again, hiccuping and sobbing at two o’clock in the morning on the ugly orange couch at Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s place as the latter mumbles choice words about your ex-boyfriend under his breath. He grabs your wrist to steady the cup of water you’ve nearly spilled twice.

He leads you into his bedroom.

You’re twenty four and you’re hundreds of miles away in a one-bedroom apartment that still doesn’t feel like home. And Iwaizumi’s rolling his eyes fondly on the other side of the phone screen as he takes you for a tour of his new place, making a dramatic grand gesture to show you exactly where he put the omamori you’d sent him via post—on his nightstand beside the bed.

It’s still there now, nestled beside a pair of reading glasses and tube of chapstick.

And when he settles down on the edge of the bed and looks at you with his palms flat on either side of him and face tilted with a smile—

—your face feels hot, and you choke out a sob that feels equal parts pathetic and cathartic as you stand there before him.

Iwaizumi pulls you into his arms, and his voice is strained as he says, “I didn’t want to hold you back.”

It suddenly makes sense now, the subtle, distant change in him after you received your scholarship letter what feels like a lifetime ago.

“And if I said I want to stay this time?”

You hate your job.

Your lease is nearly up.

He cups your face in both of his hands, his low, rough tone betraying his steady gaze. “Do you?”

You smile, and his thumb strokes away the next tear that trails down your cheek.

“I missed you,” you whisper.

The shape of his lips mirrors your own. “I miss you all the time.”

And when his mouth finally finds yours, when he cups the back of your head and parts the seam of your lips with his tongue while you straddle his lap, as you both go tumbling backward against the mattress—this feels like home.

–

“Is it too late for me to tell you how good you looked in this tonight?” Iwaizumi says from where he’s lying beneath you as you tug off your dress, his hands finding a home against your bare sides.

You shiver at the sensation, tossing the black material to join his shirt and pants on the floor.

He watches it fall. “...I guess it does look better there tho—”

“Don’t you dare.”

He grins, surging up to kiss you, hands deftly flicking open the hinge of your bra as his mouth slots against yours. You nip at his bottom lip, taking it between your teeth, and he groans, drawing an equally needy whine out of you as he cups your bare breast and drags his thumb over your pebbled nipple.

A little embarrassed by the desperation in your tone, you inhale sharply, and he presses an open mouthed kiss to the corner of your lips as he rasps, “No, I wanna hear you.”

He dips his head down, mouth closing over one of your nipples, and your body arches into his as pleasure dances down your spine. You moan.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth from your sternum to your collarbone before hotly kissing his way up the side of your neck.

You’re helpless to stop the whimper that leaves you at his whispered praise, and he knows it—you feel him smile against the curve of your jaw.

When he slides off your underwear, and as you hook a finger in his boxers in turn, you nearly expect him to crawl forward, to lay you flat on your back. But he pulls you back into his lap instead, groaning softly over how wet you are as he slides two fingers through your slick, dripping folds.

It’s so intimate—rocking back down onto the length of his fingers as he stretches you open, as his chest rises and falls while he watches you tremble. He kisses you hard, the sounds of your moans echoing in the back of his throat as his tongue scrapes against your teeth, fingers slipping and plunging against your plush inner walls.

And for all that he’s rendered you hopelessly drunk on his touch, he’s equally as affected, his forehead dropping against your shoulder when you finally wrap your hands around his shaft. Iwaizumi lets out a shuddering breath, taking your skin between his teeth. There’s a breathless conversation that passes between the two of you, his eyes briefly darting toward his nightstand in question, but the matter is settled on other terms.

Iwaizumi’s eyes burn into yours as he grasps your hips and eases you down onto his thick cock, fingers digging in when you keen at the stretch. Your cunt spasms, slick walls eagerly taking each inch until he’s bottomed out inside of you, his mouth pressed to yours as he rasps again, even softer this time, “Good girl.”

You find yourself worried for a moment that in this position, your trembling legs won’t find purchase in this molten sea of pleasure, but the firm pressure of Iwaizumi’s hands on your hips is a stark reminder of how very observant he is. He guides your body upward, enough that the head of his cock rubs against your aching entrance, and then rolls his hips as he drags you back down.

“Hajime,” you whimper, rocking your throbbing clit against him once he’s buried to the hilt.

“Keep saying my name like that, and I’m not gonna last,” he groans, voice like gravel, cock now thrusting in and out of you repeatedly.

Reaching up, you card your fingers through his hair and pull, bringing your mouth to his as you exhale against his lips, “Hajime.”

He cups the back of your head, licking his way into your mouth and deepening the kiss before reaching down to drag his thumb over your swollen clit. The coil in your abdomen trembles with the need for release as you feel yourself start to go up in flames faster than you ever could have anticipated.

“Let me hear you come,” he breathes out, eyes locked on yours.

The pleasure cresting inside of you explodes.

You cry out, every muscle in your body going taut as your climax stretches you open wide. And Iwaizumi kisses you hard, fucking you through it until you’re whimpering from overstimulation. He pulls out of you, the base of his cock rubbing against your sensitive clit and soaking wet folds as he rapidly strokes himself, gasping when you replace his hand with your own. Hot ropes of cum splatter between your bodies as his hips jerk upward into your touch, his mouth halfway slotted against yours as he breathes hard and fast.

You don’t bother going back to your hotel that night.

(You’ll take the afternoon train back.)

–

Months later, home is tangled up in these sheets that smell like his body wash and your shampoo.

It’s quiet mornings on the couch and laughter in the kitchen.

It’s slow dancing in the living room and kissing under the string lights on the tiny balcony.

Home is here, with Hajime, the reassuring warmth of his fingers threaded into yours.

#hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu!!#dee writes #dee's 2k

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steviewashere · 20 days ago

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I saw everybody sharing their fave fanfics they read over the course of 2024, so I thought I'd go ahead and share some that I've bookmarked! Heads up, I may have recommended a few of these before in my attempts to do recommendations in previous months, but it doesn't hurt anybody to share them again.

Also, as always, heed all archive warnings, tags, and ratings for each piece. Be kind, leave kudos and comments, and most importantly, happy reading! <3

My 2024 Fave Fanfics in No Particular Order:

Yours (all along) by ohstars | @oh-stars "Eddie Munson has spent the last ten years trying to move on from the collapse of Hawkins. Now he's starting at a new school on the coast of South Carolina with the hopes that he can find some kind of peace in this new life of his. Of course, that's turned on his head when a freshman decides to get under his skin and when that freshman's parents happen to be his nemesis (and love of his life) and one of his former best friends? Eddie's certain the universe has it in for him. Now he has to navigate teaching his enemy's child and dealing with the Incident that started it all, that he's been running away from this whole time. Is it time to start running? Or will Eddie finally be brave enough to tackle his feelings head on?" Mature | No Archive Warnings | Chapters: 16/16 | Steddie

keep my hand in yours by cydonic "Eddie Munson, a cleaner at a regional airport in Indiana, finds a boy asleep on the floor outside Departure Gate A3 on Christmas Eve. Eddie's always had a soft spot for strays, so he takes Steve Harrington home for the holidays." Explicit | No Archive Warnings | Chapters: 1/1 | Steddie

my heart has changed (my soul has changed) by Chubbypeachh "Four years after the breakup that broke Steve Harrington, he's face to face with Eddie at a New Year's Eve party." Teen and Up | No Archive Warnings | Chapters: 1/1 | Steddie

The Dearest and Best by emchant3d | @emchant3d "Eddie never second guessed that Wayne had him. Always. No matter what. Until he was gone." Mature | No Archive Warnings | Chapters: 1/1 | Eddie & Wayne, Steddie

sometimes by kas_eddie_munson | @kas-eddie-munson "And he knew, really, it was silly. But he thought maybe he could get bits and pieces of that if not the whole thing. Maybe he would never have his dream job, but he could do something similar. Play his guitar at bars on the weekend, teach kids music lessons, or work at a record shop. Maybe he would never find someone who could put up with all his dramatics and energy full time, but he’d have a girlfriend, eventually, for a while. And here he was. Couldn’t even sell weed anymore, couldn’t get out of bed without help sometimes, could barely get out of the house without help, certainly couldn’t drive. The new trailer didn’t even have steps, it had ONE step. And that was enough to stop him from moving up and down with a wheelchair. ONE step. ~~~ Or, everything is different after Vecna. Eddie Munson's body will never be the same, and neither will he." Teen and Up | No Archive Warnings | Chapters: 1/1 | Steddie

Follow Your Heart by steddiecameraroll | @steddiecameraroll "Eddie’s not paying attention to where he’s walking when he bumps into someone coming out of a coffee shop. “Oh,” Eddie steps back and opens his mouth to apologize, when he looks up to see who he’d crashed into. “You ok?” The man asks. Eddie tries to respond, wants to respond, opens his mouth to respond but the quirk in the man’s smile is taunting him. It’s connected to a face that could make a man weak in the knees, in fact it’s doing just that right now. -or- Eddie keeps seeing a man he bumped into and for some reason can't stop thinking about him." Teen and Up | No Archive Warnings | Chapters: 1/1 | Steddie

don't say nothing's wrong by MomotoneScreaming | @momotonescreaming "“If you’re gonna continue to bully me, dude,” Steve starts, brows furrowing; lips pursed in a tight, angry line. “I don’t think I want to be your friend anymore.” or A Dustin Henderson character analysis" Teen and Up | No Archive Warnings | Chapters: 1/1 | Steve & Dustin

safe and sound by sidekick_hero | @sidekick-hero "What happens when Steve meets Eddie Munson, who has just failed his senior year for the first time, during one of his nightly drives?" Teen and Up | No Archive Warnings | Chapters: 1/1 | Steddie

I Love You (it's ruining my life) by LadySlytherin "Steve Harrington is three years old the first time he coughs up a flower petal. He's nineteen when he learns the flowers in his lungs are finally killing him. Sometimes, things are more complicated than they seem...and sometimes, they're a whole lot simpler." Teen and Up | Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings | Chapters: 3/3 | Steddie

you still dance but you're out of time by Atalia_Gold | @ataliagold "“Because what, Steve?” Oh, he’s dropped the Harrington now, and Steve knows he’s fucked, knows Hopper’s not going to back off. “Because I can’t fucking sleep, ok?” Steve whispers, his voice hoarse and broken. “When I do, I dream about…about the fucking Upside Down, about my friends dying, about me being too slow to save them, and I wake up screaming. And I can hardly get to sleep anyway because these,” Steve yanks his three layers up, reveals the marred skin on his sides, “keep me awake.” Hopper’s face is stony, unreadable. For a moment, Steve feels some sick kind of gratification that he’s managed to render the man speechless. That he’s made somebody care. ***** Until now, nobody's worked out that Steve's essentially homeless, living in his car. But one night, when Steve's cold and alone and in pain, Hopper chances across him." Teen and Up | No Archive Warnings | Chapters: 1/1 | Steddie, Steve & Hopper

I read so many other fics over the course of 2024. Unfortunately, I am the kind of person who often doesn't use their brain or resources, so I didn't bookmark everything I read over the whole year. Anyway. Hopefully, this new year will be better for us all—even if you thought 2024 was your best, may it get better anyway—and also, of course, may Steve/Eddie stay in our brains and hearts.

I've had such a fun year writing. (For Christ's sake, I wrote over 100 fics like I was going to die at any moment.) And I've already got a few fics coming out within the first two weeks of January. Also, so many other fics planned out for the rest of the year; as well as fics that I'd like finish—looking at you, Mer Steve, my Stommy fic, and Single Parent Eddie/Hairstylist Steve. I'm sure I'll be a mess of words all year, hair wild as I try to complete challenges, but it's fun at the end.

Love y'all, thank you for a marginally great 2024! Seriously, 2025, please be better for my soul.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfiction #fanfic recs

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pipwritesoccasionally · 5 months ago

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the love we share (two little lines part 4)

toji x reader

in which you go to your last appointment of your pregnancy with toji.

technically AFAB reader, but i've left it as gender neutral as possible.

wc: 1188

parts: 1 2 3

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

goodness gracious does your back hurt. after carrying a whole other human in your body for over 37 weeks, you’re ready to give birth. unfortunately, the universe has other plans for you, and so instead of going to the hospital to give birth, you’re getting ready for yet another appointment.

you waddle around the house, ankles burning with your newfound weight, getting all of your records and doctor’s notes to bring with you to your appointment.

“toji! we need to go!” you yell, holding onto the handrail to make your way down the stairs. toji’s footsteps stomp down the hall, and he meets you at the bottom of the stairs, supporting you with a hand in yours.

“i got the keys already, and i got you a car snack so you don’t get sick,” he hands over a granola bar, and you feel your eyes well up with tears.

“i’m so in love with you,” you cry, and he wipes your cheeks. at this point, he is so used to your hormones that he does not even question why you’re crying.

“let’s go see our baby,” he says, and you nod, following him to the car.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

you’re laying on your back, cold lotion rubbed over your belly to aid the ultrasound. the doctor brings the machine over, and you see your baby once again.

“they’re beautiful,” you whisper, holding onto toji’s hand. looking over, you see your husband’s eyes full of light and love for your coming baby.

“yeah. they are.” he says softly, and you squeeze his hand.

“now, i know you’ve said that you don’t want to know the gender, but i just want to double check one more time,” the doctor asks, and you shake your head.

“we want it to be a total surprise,” the two of you had discussed this as you slowly moved into your second trimester, and you had both decided that you wanted to find out the baby’s gender when you give birth. in order to make it easier on your bank account, the nursery was full of both megumi and tsumiki’s old baby supplies, still giving you enough money to take care of the two kids.

“alright. well, the baby looks almost fully developed, and their heartbeat sounds normal. they should be coming sometime within the next week, and if you need anything, or if anything happens, please come see me again,” you and toji thank the doctor, and start the effortful journey back to the car, where you eventually slump into the passenger seat.

toji slides into the driver seat, hand resting on top of yours.

“so,” he begins, “how are you feeling?”

this is a question that he’s posed to you many times throughout the duration of your pregnancy, but with the idea of giving birth casting a shadow over you, it had never been more appropriate.

“i guess i’m nervous,” you say, completely understating your true feelings. you were positively terrified. all your life, you’d heard people recounting stories about how birth was one of the most painful things ever.

“you know you can’t lie to me, doll,” toji says, him squeezing your hand this time. you sigh, but nod.

“i’m so scared toji. i mean, it’s supposed to be some of the most insane pain of my life. also, what about the kids? a baby is exhausting, and i don’t want them to feel abandoned.”

“hey, breathe. remember how we talked about making time for the kids months ago? we will make it work. and you’re not alone, i’m here to help take care of all of our kids,” his large, warm hand comes to cup your cheek, and you lean against him.

“what if i’m not ready?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“you’re already the world’s best step-parent, so raising our biological will be a walk in the park for you,” you laugh lightly, but he continues. “i’m serious. megumi and tsumiki really do like you more than me.”

“i doubt that. they love you,” your face breaks into a grin.

“which means that they love you a lot too,” toji smiles softly at you, and you don’t know if you can love someone more.

“stop being so handsome!” you exclaim, turning away from him.

“only when you stop being so attractive every single day,” he responds without missing a beat, amplifying your embarrassment.

“stop!” you laugh.

“i can’t, doll.”

how can you keep a normal heartrate around your beautiful husband when he compliments you like that? you turn your head back, staring at him.

“what? is there something on my face?” he asks, running a hand down said face.

“no. i’m just wondering how i got so lucky,” his ears turn pink, and he tries to cough to hide his blush.

“if anyone’s lucky in this relationship, it’s me,” he says, and you smile.

“can we just say we’re both lucky? we do live with megumi and tsumiki,” you both laugh, before pulling on your seatbelts.

“that sounds right. those brats are, well, brats, but they’re pretty cool too.”

“i’m pretty sure that’s a contradictory statement,” the car revs to life, and he hums.

“maybe. either way, they’re pretty cool kids.”

“wait. is toji fushiguro not calling his amazing kids brats for once? i’m shocked,” you feign shock, with your hand placed against your chest. he scoffs, pulling out of your parking spot.

“okay, i don’t always call my kids brats, and never to their faces. i can’t have them misconstrue my meaning,” his pretend annoyance at his kids is something you understand as sarcasm, but the kids might not.

“besides,” he continues, “we both know that they’re the greatest gifts the world has ever given us. and i’m sure baby #3 will be just as great a gift,” warmth envelopes your body as toji cups your belly, looking lovingly at your bump.

“we love you,” you whisper, rubbing your belly. while you know that most parents talk to their babies in the womb, you and your husband were more reserved. you mostly just told the baby how much you love them, and how excited you are for they to come home.

“yeah, we love you so much. so do megumi and tsumiki, though they might be grumpy teens when you’re old enough to know it,” toji says, and you laugh. the car develops into a serious silence, and you find toji looking at you with serene look in his eye.

“is something wrong?” you ask.

“no, nothing’s wrong. i’m just thinking about how i’m so grateful for you and our baby. my life is better because you’re in it,” toji can seem gruff or standoffish, but he can be such a sweet-talker to the people he loves.

“i thought i couldn’t fall more in love with you, and you’ve proved me wrong. you’re the best husband i could ask for,” you lean in, and he meets you halfway with a kiss.

“alright, should we go home?” he asks, holding your hand over the middle console.

“yes, we should.” you reply, the car crackling with warmth from the love you share.

#anime #jjk #manga #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji #toji fluff #fushiguro toji x reader #not really edited lmao #pipwritesoccasionally

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suraemoon · 10 months ago

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Rosie Rosenthal Headcanons

~Mr. and Mrs. Rosenthal Edition ~

🌹: Hi, Mrs. Rosenthal. Hope you’re doing well. How’s the hubby? These are some Rosie x Reader cute and domestic headcanons that cover some tiny details that make married life even more special

♥️: Fluffy fluff. If you’re feeling horny, stay to the end and I’ll help you, doll. Thats really it. Hope u enjoy.

Humming. He hums softly during the most comfortable silences, making them even more cozy. You could be reading a book on a quiet May afternoon, watching him work at his desk on a cold January night, holding hands while watching the August sunset from your balcony.

Whenever you’re singing a tune, he’s going to hum along with you

Can’t remember the name of that one Ella Fitzgerald song for the life of you? Hum it together until a namesake lyric pops into one of your brilliant minds. Followed by a “Ohhhh, you’re right. It is that one!”

A comfortable hum during the times when you’re crying on his shoulder, his hand rubbing your back in small circles, your cheek against the fabric of his grandpa sweater

Rosie’s blue eyes have always been one of your favorite features of his.

They are as vibrant as technicolor, always displaying so much emotion.

Looking into Rosie’s eyes is a constant reminder that as long as you have him, life will never again be sepia toned.

Rosie spoils you in the most nonchalant ways. Buying his wife a gift is never made into its own big event.

He notices how you eye a certain sparkling necklace while walking hand in hand by the jewelry store window? The next day, those same diamonds are lying on your vanity, waiting to be worn.

For some reason the flowers in the vase on the dining room table never seem to die? Hmm I wonder why.

Little do you know, those roses were replaced with fresh ones last night

Rosie buys beautiful bouquets of flowers as pink as his wife’s cheeks on a chilly day

Hides them in places you’d never look until the sun goes down to rest for the night and you are securely fast asleep next to him

As soft light floods through the windows in the morning, the glass of the vase creates a rainbow and the flowers sitting delicately on display look new as ever

Another small detail that your home would like an incomplete puzzle without?

Him and Hers plaid robes hang gently on delicate hooks behind the bathroom door

Technically, both robes were bought and owned by Rosie before he even met you

But they’re so damn comfy that they’ve become happily coparented between the two of you

Whenever your choice of robe starts to lose the distinct and comforting scent of your beloved husband, the two of you switch in order to replenish

A constant cycle of robe wearing

The record player is the most used and well loved item in the household

Soft jazz fills warmly lit rooms

Not much of a dancer are you? Rosie insists that the two of you slow dance to his favorite love song anyway

Don’t worry, it is not a game of skill. Maybe he hits a silly dance move now and then to distract you from the worry of accidentally stepping on his feet.

He spins you around like Prince Charming does Cinderella until both the rotating and romance makes you a little lightheaded.

He also loves a good candle. (Don’t we all?)

Not only for when he is trying to set the right mood for homemade dates at the kitchen table and nights full of lovemaking in your bedroom

but also to further enhance the warm and comforting atmosphere that fills any room that his love steps into

Cuddling in eachother’s warmth where the cold evening air of the bustling city outside cannot touch you

What else sometimes happens while you two lying in bed on a weeknight? Gossip.

It’s a safe space to talk about anyone or anything

When your little ones start school and the two of you join the PTA, the reason being not because you want to but instead having the “new parent” fear you were the only ones not in it. Do you regret it? No. The tea is unexpectedly piping hot.

“Remember how late we stayed up making those cookies after finding that bake sale flier at the bottom of her bookbag? Today, the Joneses went on and on about how they had a family recipe. Guess what?…their brownie container had a price tag, Rosie.”

Maybe a family member said something utterly ridiculous at the family reunion that you aren’t able to talk about until you’re in the comfort of your own walls

Something that even has Rosie uttering “Now if I was his wife…” or “I don’t know about his mother but if my mother caught me doing that…”

A lot of “I can’t believe that happened” head shakes

A lot of “You were right about that, honey” nods in agreement

Rosie also takes the time to tell you about his cases. Him and his co-workers always act so professional but sometimes you need an outside opinion to confirm how ridiculous some people are.

That outside opinion is Mrs. Rosenthal sitting on the bed stirring a cup of cocoa

Speaking of drinks, Rosie likes his coffee black

You learn that the morning after you spend your first night at his

What else do you learn after that riveting first night? Your man fancies a bath. A warm bath after sex is only part of his phenomenal aftercare routine.

He puts oils into the water, massages your sore thighs, and wraps you in a comfy soft robe when you get out

You two don’t argue often but when you do? You hate to admit it but Rosie is usually right

Even when he isn’t right, he has you second guessing yourself because…he’s a lawyer and being a good arguer is part of the job description

He’s a “I need to get the last word in” kind of person, even if it’s just a snarky or sarcastic comment

You two always make up though!

Make up, makeout, and make love is always the order

My last thot for today…dad jokes

If Rosie is going to do one thing, it’s make you laugh

He’s goes out of his way to see your pretty smile as much as he can

Your sweet giggles can easily compete and win against the sparkling sound of wind chimes

Your laugh is as melodic as his favorite song. It *is* his favorite song.

He’s so good at dad jokes, you have to make him a father. That’s good logic, hm? I definitely think so.

They’re purposefully bad and cheesy. So unfunny that they’re funny and trying to hold in the laugh always fails.

Your husband’s a dork and you love him that way

————————————————————————

Thanks for reading! If you’re like “Excuse me ma’am, wheres the smut?” I know where to redirect you. All my dirty thots went towards my friend Marina’s (@precious-little-scoundrel) lovely post about Rosie. It’s so chef’s kiss. 110% recommend. xxxx 💋

#rosie rosenthal #masters of the air #masters of the air fanfic #mota #mota fanfic #mota fanfiction #robert rosenthal #robert rosie rosenthal #rosie x reader #rosie rosenthal x reader #robert rosenthal x reader #masters of the air fanfiction #mota headcanons #headcanons

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sanzaibian · 5 months ago

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I look on with pride as I enter the Tokyo University of Arts, the most prestigious art school of the whole country. I studied so hard for the whole past year, and yet I barely made it through the entrance exams… but as the flowers bloom, it is time for me to enter the next step of my life !

I have had an immaculate record : I’ve had good grades throughout middle and high school, I was class representative in most classes in that time, and I already had a portfolio ready ! Really, I was the perfect candidate for the fine arts studies ! I’ll be able to realize my dream of becoming a great architect !

However, as I approach the steps of the Sogakudo Concert Hall where the Entrance Ceremony is supposed to take place, I am suddenly blasted by big plumes of smoke. The smell is all too familiar to me, as I distinctly remember disciplining a students who were smoking in the premises, and although now I’m studying alongside adults, it doesn’t mean spreading smoke without any care for others shouldn’t be grounds for objection. And as I turn to see the origin of the smoke, I am comforted in my decision, as a small group of the most typical of thugs appear in front of me. A small group of Bosozoku, with big obnoxious pompadours on their heads and leather jackets one of them with a cigarette in his mouth and another with hair dyed blonde.

“Hey, this is a university campus ! You can’t smoke and loiter like that !” I came in strong, but I was a bit disconcerted when they started laughing. Though it doesn’t matter, guys like them always act tough at first. - Hahaha ! Bro, look at this kouhai (junior) tryin’ to order us around !” Mocked one of them with an enthusiastic tone. - Well, what’s he gonna do, is he gonna call security ?” Added the second, with calmer and more objective tone. - Kouhai,” started saying the one who was smoking, looking at me in the eyes. “d’ya think ya have a right to boss me around ?”

W-wait… kouhai ? They may be older than me, I agree, but are they actually students here ? They’re mocking me, of course, such a prestigious academy would never let in rascals such as them ! It just cannot be !

“W-well… I’m sure that you aren’t allowed to disturb other students like that ! It harms public harmony ! - Public harmony, you say ?” Continues the one who was smoking. “Well, you know where I put your public harmony ? In my ass !”

The other roared of laughter. But I am not this easily fussed.

“Well, no matter what, I’ll report you all for trying to disturb the Tokyo University of Arts Entrance Ceremony by your illegal loitering.” I take my phone out. “You see, I can call the police.” I smile as I hear their laughs falter. - I see you’re already going with the nuclear option…” The smoking guy said, as he puts out his cigarette on a nearby wall. “Fine, we’ll go so you’re happy. - Well, great ! And I hope I won’t see you all again !” I can’t help but smile at my easy victory. A bit too easy, actually… but let’s rejoice rather than fear. - Don’t worry, you won’t see us until you need to meet back up…” The smoking one ends, quite ominously. “If you need to find us, Ryuunosuke will go to The Gigs tomorrow evening. - I hope to see you there.” I hear the calmer voice behind me, before suddenly hearing the click of a lighter.

I look back, and see one of the Bosozoku I saw earlier in the group, a lighter in his hand and a mask on his face.

Funny enough, with this ad behind him he almost looks like a graffiti artist… But no, the main thing is… has he tried to set me on fire !? I take a step back in defense, as he raises his hands as if he was innocent. I look behind me and see that the two others have also put on masks, and are starting to make their way out.

“Goodbye !” Says the one who had a lighter in his hand, likely that ‘Ryuunosuke’ guy, as he follows his… gang.

I stand there, quite confused by the whole altercation. What has actually happened ? Why did everything take on a sinister tone at the end ? Why did they say we would meet again ? Why were there these kind of thugs right besides the Sogakudo Concert Hall ? And... er… why am I not in the Sogakudo Concert Hall ?

Oh no ! I forgot everything due to that ! I hope I’m not late…

As I start making my way to the hall, I hear some weird noise as my foot touched the ground. I looked down, and saw a red cigarette on the ground, that was seemingly lighten up until I stepped on it. Great, these ruffians even littered… though the smell is a bit weird, it doesn’t seem like usual tobacco smell. It could even be said to smell… a bit good, actually ? Well, better than most, it doesn’t actually smell good, but the smell is still weirdly present.

But I don’t have any time to waste. The Entrance Ceremony is going to start any minute, I can’t be late to it !

I mean, I don’t know what I expected from some speech by important people, but this one was especially egregious. They were thanking a bunch of people, and patronizing us, saying we were the “future of Japan”… Thinking about it, it was about the same content as third year of high-school, but at least back then the headmaster had some charisma.

So, a bit disappointed, I make my way to Nezu station, to go back home. I might as well have stayed home, the consequences would have been barely noticeable. Plus, I could have bought a lollipop. I don’t know why, but I’ve got the urge to play with something in my mouth.

As I enter Nezu station, I automatically check the cameras and the personnel, and see that they have a dead space where I can go without my face being recognize. I smile, and take the very path I planned out to jump over the fare. As I do that, I get a rush of adrenaline, and make my way towards the platform, reveling in the danger.

But as I enter the train, I realize what I have done.

What has happened to me ? Why did I even think of entering the station illegally ? I have a metro card, and my parents have bought a full subscription, so it doesn’t even make sense ? God, this is the kind of things that those Bosozoku I sneered at would do… Then why the hell am I replicating this kind of hooligan behavior ?

When I arrive at my station, I scan my fare card, quite bashful, before leaving. I may have entered illegally, I won’t leave illegally. Though I must admit the adrenaline was fun. Even though it pains me to say that.

The remainder of my day is spent sulking in my small student’s apartment, going through lollipop after lollipop I bought at the Kombini after eating lunch. Then, the evening, I prepare my stuff for the beginning of classes tomorrow, hoping that my strange outburst of rebel attitude would be a fluke.

And so I drift off to sleep.

When I wake up, I find myself weirdly void of energy.

Usually, mornings are easy, and I’m ready for a full day of class. But today, things just ain’t it. It’s especially bad since today marks the beginning of classes… At least I had the foresight of preparing my things yesterday evening… Well, no matter. I prepare a bit more rice than usual to get the day really started, hopefully it will be enough to wake up properly.

After eating, I go to the bathroom to prepare myself. I put on my clothes, I brush my teeth, and then I search for… something ? I don’t actually know what, but I know I should be putting something in my hair… Plus, where is my comb ? I need a comb. Why do I need a comb ?

Oh no, oh no, the weird stuff from yesterday are happening again ! It can’t be !

I abandon all that searching and go out to class. This time, I make an actual effort to take the metro the correct way, yet during the whole ride the thrill of bypassing the fair kept on nagging me. And when I entered my first classroom, my troubles didn’t even actually end. I had a hard time concentrating on the teacher, especially on respecting his authority. I only wanted to go out, not to be trapped in here doing boring calculations… But I must admit that the classes that were more focused on design and on drawing, letting me do my own damn thing, were actually fun. I was able to flex my creative muscles in a way I didn’t know I could until now. I almost couldn’t recognize myself !

However, let’s be honest, something very weird is going on with me. And it all started with these Bosozoku.

Oh, yeah, didn’t they say that they would be waiting for me ? At “The Gigs” today evening ? Of course, yeah, what’s going wrong obviously has something to do with them. Otherwise they wouldn’t have insisted on me meeting back up with them…

I sigh. I know I’m the duck carrying its own leek, but it’s the only way to understand whatever has happened to me. And the only way to find a cure.

“The Gigs” was actually quite hard to find, but I found out that they were referring to a concert in the Nippon Budokan. Thankfully, I only had one change to do from the Chiyoda line to arrive here, but the whole ordeal of finding the place after many, many furious google searches proved quite frustrating.

But as I arrived to the door of the Nippon Budokan, as convened stood firm one of the Bosozoku I saw yesterday.

“So you came !” He exclaims, with a mix of amusement and surprise. “If you don’t remember, I’m Kowa Ryuunosuke. And, wouldn’t you know it, I have additional tickets !” While saying that, he waves two pieces of paper. - I don’t care. I want the weird stuff to end.” I answer, resolute, and a bit filter-less, I admit. - You know, Tsutomu and I thought that you wouldn’t show up, that we would have to find you. But no, turns out Hitoshi was correct, you would immediately notice that something was off. - What do you mean notice that something is off. You knew that weird stuff would happen to me ? - You know, the show is gonna start soon. I guarantee you’ll love it. You coming ?”

I am starting to get angry at how he keeps on avoiding my question.

“No, I’m not coming with you. I’m waiting to have an answer and a way to stop whatever you did to me.” I maintain as he sighs in answer. - Look. I can help you, but only if you come with me. I’m going in, and if you don’t follow me, you’ll have to fare for yourself in… whatever you found.”

I blush of embarrassment. I’ve lost at my own game, and now he knows I have nothing he’s interested in.

I guess now I must weigh whether sticking with these rascals is worth it or not. The benefits of not sticking are obvious : I wouldn’t have to associate with Bosozoku, and they wouldn’t be able to pressure me to do anything. But if I don’t, I do risk changing in ways I can’t understand, and may even put in jeopardy my studies in more substantial ways than being with Bosozoku. The choice is actually hard to make…

But then, knowing some people wouldn’t be so bad for such a lonely guy as myself… plus, it looks like it’s a Kishidan concert, it’s not a bad band… And tomorrow, I don’t have any early class… Plus, if we actually become friends, I may be able to actually find a way to reverse the effects of whatever they gave me...

“Eh, you know what, I’ll follow you. ‘Can’t that bad to go to a free concert.” I capitulate. - Welcome, then !”

Kowa gives me one of the concert tickets, smiling, likely happy to have scored a victory. He’s actually somewhat cute, gleeful like that. So I follow him inside, and we take our places, ready to listen to what turns out to be his favorite band.

Well, this was a blast ! I’ve never felt more alive than yesterday evening !

I was full of so much energy, it’s actually quite unbelievable ! I’m usually lethargic when we reach 5PM, 0AM or even 1AM the few times I actually stay up this late. Heh, I’d usually actually feel as lethargic as I’m doing right now, waking up ! But Kowa and I really had a great time. From around the half-point to the end of the concert, we were standing up, dancing our hearts off while Kishidan was giving their all. By the end of the evening, Kowa’s pompadour was ruined and I was thoroughly out of breath, but we agreed that it was worth it. The music was a lot more enjoyable than I remember, even more than I would rate video game music – and that’s quite a feat to remove Dragon Quest from the podium. I’m even finding myself humming the melody this very morning !

After eating breakfast, I find myself again in my bathroom searching for something that I don’t have after having brushed my teeth and washed my face. However, this time when I see the contents of my closet, I feel a bit self-conscious. There really isn’t much that’s actually cool, only uncreative dress shirts, plain jackets, mandatory ties and monochrome T-shirts. Why did I ever think this would even pass as clothing ?

I freeze. This is not me. I never cared about how I look. Only being comfortable and acceptable in society ever came into account when I chose clothing ! Besides, most of the time I only dressed in uniform ! This is something I’ll have to ask Kowa about. It is not the most egregious thing to happen, but it’s yet another step in leaving who I actually am behind. And I’m not keen on that.

Thankfully, Kowa told me that we could meet back up at Ueno station late afternoon, so I can ask him about it. And he also added me on Line, so, in case of emergency I can call him.

But now, class is the priority.

I look around in the train station, unsure of where I’m supposed to go. Although Kowa gave me a place and an hour to meet at, he wasn’t clear on how we would do that. But I’ll be honest, after all the dancing yesterday, we were both quite hammered. Though it really doesn’t help my case, as I was self-conscious the whole day, so I was unable to properly concentrate. Hopefully, he will find a way to help me, it’s barely my second day in the most prestigious academy of arts in the country, and I’m already encountering so many problems !

Suddenly, I receive a notification on my phone. Oh, it’s from Line ! Apparently, I was invited to the group 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento) by Kowa… and on there, someone named お鼠様 (Sir Rat) gave instructions, likely addressed to me.

He said :

“上野駅の下にですよ！参加してぞ！(I’m at the bottom of Ueno Station ! Join me !)”

His profile picture is cute, actually, being that of a rat with a cool hairstyle… quite reminiscent of that of the Bosozoku I now hang out with, actually – which should not really come as a surprise, thinking about it.

Back to the point, what did he mean by “at the bottom of Ueno station” ? It’s quite big, and there’s no real “bottom” point…

As I think about it for a while, wandering aimlessly in the meantime, my head starts to ache, and more than ever I crave for something in my mouth… I don’t know what, but something needs to go in. Thankfully, I thought to bring some spare lollipops, but they seem both too big and too small, they only bring temporary relief. That may also be something to talk about to them.

But bottom of the station… bottom of the station… Ha ! Yes, of course, the Metro ! That’s the part of the station that’s the deepest inside the earth !

I rush to there, hoping that Kowa – or more likely whoever that お鼠様 (Sir Rat) is – has not yet left. As I ride down the escalator, I keep my head out for anybody with the Bosozoku style. I wander a bit, not seeing anybody fitting the criteria, when suddenly I notice a service door that wasn’t fully closed.

Now, understand me. Service doors, as the name suggests, are for service employees only. Customers aren’t supposed to go in.

But the setup of this whole thing, and the mere thrill of doing something forbidden proved too enticing, as I find myself striding towards it, and entering. And my braveness… or rather foolishness if my opinion is the matter, is rewarded, as I find a Bosozoku with a big pompadour dyed blonde – though it appears ginger in the dark – standing there, with sunglasses and the attitude of a certified bad boy.

“Hey, so you made it, kouhai ! I was sure you would understand my hints ! You struck me as the smart kind – for better or for worse.” The guy hailed me very enthusiastically, almost making a motion of hugging towards me. - Uh… O-Nezu-sama, I presume ? - Heh, that’s correct ! Though you’d better know me as Soiri Tsutomu, that’s more worldly !” He corrects me, smiling seemingly both of amusement and compassion. - Oh, I-I’m sorry, Soiri…” I keep my head down in a show of humility. I may be breaking the law by being here, but I’m not breaking etiquette at the same time. - Don’t worry, don’t worry ! So, what brings you here ?”

I don’t quite know what to answer to this blunt a question. I expected him to rope me into something else like Kowa did, so while I thought of topics to bring up, I never thought of questions to ask… But as I look down at my clothes which bothered me the whole day, I get an idea. However, I barely open my mouth when Soiri interrupts me :

“Oh, yeah, I agree. That’s absolutely terrible fashion sense that you have here ! We’re gonna have to fix that pronto ! But you’re in luck !” Soiri makes a double biceps pose, pointing with his thumbs to his grubs. “I happen to be the best in fashion inside the 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento), so you’re in good hands !”

I squint, not understanding how he knew what I was thinking about. Seeing me stunned like that, he opens his mouth ready to speak once again, but this time I do manage to outpace him.

“Well, if you say so, then let’s go !” Better to leave this room earlier than later. It might be thrilling to live in danger, I don’t want to push my luck. - Okay, then follow me !”

As he leaves the service area to go to the subway, I follow him. I do ask him multiple times where we’re going, but he stays silent, telling me that it’s a surprise. We take the Ginza line and step down at Suehirocho station. We walk through a few narrow alleyways until we reach a small shop named Nichiwa.

Smiling, he invites me in, and when I enter, I’m immediately amazed at what that store actually sells. It sells leather clothes. Of all kinds of styles. And I didn’t know how much I needed leather clothes until today.

We bought a lot of clothes there. He also lead me to a few other stores where we bought other actually trendy and cool clothes, that are much better than anything I had in my closet.

As we left our last store, full of clothes in multiple bags, I felt quite tired from all the shopping, but at the same time so excited for this. Never would I ever need to feel self-conscious about what I wear ! So I thanked him :

“Thank you so much, Soiri. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here to help me ! - Don’t worry, I love helping people finding clothes ! I might be at the Tokyo Arts School for music, I could absolutely see myself doing fashion in another universe. - So you do actually study at the Tokyo Arts School ? I thought that you were just hanging out as rascals somewhere you were not supposed to !” I ask, in disbelief, causing him to laugh. - Of course I do ! We all do study here, in the 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento) ! Well, Hitoshi doesn’t anymore, but it’s only because he graduated last year. - Oh, wow… I would have never thought, looking at how you dressed…” I actually feel quite guilty for stereotyping them like that. Turns out they do belong in the Arts School, I was the one in the wrong. Thinking about it, how many other people did I label as rascals only by looking at their style ? “But you used the name 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento), that’s also what the Line group I was invited to is named. Is that actually the name of your group, or is it just a funny thing for the Line group ? - Yup, that’s our name ! Subject to change, of course, like everything, but we really like it. Besides, we’re all really happy to bring you inside the group, so you’ll get a say in changing the name if you want !”

I stop at that.

Did he say that he wants to bring me inside their group ? That’s not what I want, what I want is to find a solution for the weird behaviors I have ! I don’t want to have anything more to do with them than I already have ! Besides, it’s their fault if all of that happens to me. Did they plan on that ? Were they just searching for anyone to add in their group of rascals, and chose to change me so that I fit their wishes ?

“I have no intention of joining your group ! 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento) or not, I’m only doing this because you did something weird to me ! Are you actually doing some kind of advanced kidnapping or what ?” I snap.

His turn to look stunned. It seems like he realized he said something wrong and is scrambling to find a way to scavenge it back. Well, let him stew. They brought it onto themselves by toying with me.

“Uh… well…” Mumbles Soiri, before he manages something a bit clearer. “Y-you know, you shouldn’t be saying that to the one who basically bought all of your clothes ! Let me say that it’s not cheap ! - You have no right to say that !” I pounce back. “You’re the one who’s molding me into what you want, of course you’re not buying me clothes out of the kindness of your heart ! You’re doing that to further your nefarious plan !”

He looks away, likely in shame. Or at least I hope so.

“So now, I go back home, and you find a way to reverse that. The clothes you bought are my insurance.” I layer on the guilt.

And on that, I leave for the subway station, but before I’m too far from him, he shouts to me :

“I can’t ! ... Message us when you need to.”

A few days passed, and I haven’t contacted them since. I’m still in their Line group, but I muted them. I only want the hotline just in case something truly beyond my control happens. And to be honest, I’ve had multiple times the urge to call them. I’m growing more and more restless every day, I’m finding myself more and more confused with foreign urges I cannot satisfy, and I’m becoming more and more estranged from myself. By now, I only dress with the clothes Soiri bought me, and the only music I listen to is that of the group I danced to with Kowa.

And so I stand there, in my 7J flat, chewing on the remains of my last lollipop, the corpses of eight more lying on the table, ready to burst at any moment. Nothing feels right, and even the thing I used to do feel wrong, now.

I look at my phone. Must I do it ? … No… I can still resist, prevent them from molding me anymore than they already did… But is it wise ? Look at me, I’m way past my limit, anymore and I may very well land in a mental hospital… Like it or not, everything the 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento) gave me made my plight easier to bear…

I sigh.

I’ll regret it, I’m sure. But I can’t. Not anymore. I made a valiant try, but this is beyond my powers. In the end, I’m still a normal boy, adult since only a few months ago, barely out of public education. I am not equipped to bear this kind of pain.

“おはよう皆…参加しようか？(Hey everyone… Can we meet up ?” I send, defeated, on the 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento) chat. - おはよう後輩！もちろんです！龍之介と俺はザ・デック・コーヒーエンドパイに遊ぶ。会合しようぞ！(Hey, kouhai ! Of course ! Ryuunosuke and I are hanging out at The Deck Coffee & Pie. Let’s meet up !)” Answered Soiri, faster than I expected. Was he monitoring his phone or what ? - 渋谷区にだぞ。明治神宮前駅と北参道駅の間に。(It’s in Shibuya district. Between Meiji-jingumae station and Kita-sando station.)” Added Kowa, as he is likely scolding Soiri for not giving me the cafe’s location. - 今来るぞ。(I’m coming.)” I answer succinctly.

Thankfully, Meiji-jingumae station is on the same line as the one I take to go to class, so I quickly hop on the first subway, and make my way to Shibuya. Although, all in all, I do stand defeated, I make my way to Deck Coffee & Pie with determination. I need to find an actual solution… even if it means being roped in to their group. They don’t even seem that bad anymore, that’s to say…

I enter the small cafe, looking around to find Kowa and Soiri. As I go from table to table, having explained to the cashier that I’m joining up with “friends”, I finally notice Kowa seating alone at a table.

“Hey, kouhai ! How are you ?” He hails me.

He looks quite different, actually, when he doesn’t wear a mask ! Plus, his hair is quite immaculate today… did he go to the barber’s ?

“Not that great, I’m… actually surrendering. You can do anything you want with me, I just want my suffering to stop.” I answer truthfully, disregarding whatever actual answer that question should have brought. - You’re over-estimating our amount of agency, you know !” He smiles with compassion, visibly understanding my plight. “We can’t ‘mold’ you like you claim we do, we can only introduce to things you’ll like, you know… - Don’t be kidding me, you’re doing something to me, there’s no other way…”

He sighs, and then takes out of his bag a red cigarette. It looks like the one I’ve seen back when at the Entrance Ceremony, but it’s not a kind I’ve ever seen otherwise. Weirdly, it feels somewhat inviting...

“Now, I don’t smoke. And neither does Tsutomu. Hitoshi does, and he has developed a special brand that, when inhaled, changes someone.” He reveals, while I look at him, horrified. “I don’t know where or how he made them, but he made three of them : I carry one, he carries one, and the third one was used on you. Tsutomu doesn’t get any, because even he knows he will waste it.”

It’s… a lot to digest. So it was an actual intentional ploy to transform me… thanks to what likely is a dangerous drug…

“I didn’t want to use it. But you were annoying, and Hitoshi wanted to test it on you because of that. - It wasn’t a reason ! Yes, I may have been nosy, but it’s not because I’ve done a bad thing that I deserve to be changed to my very core !” I protest, though I now understand that nothing can be done to amend this decision. - And it’s not because a lot of young criminals dress like we do that we need to be driven out.”

I shut up at him exposing my hypocrisy like this. By now, I really regret what I have done… I guess what is happening to me must be retribution for the numerous people I likely wronged by not trying to understand their character.

Suddenly, I hear the voice of Soiri ring from the other side of the room.

“You’re here !”

I looked in the direction of his voice, and noticed him making a weird pose before making his way to us. I cannot help but smile at him doing silly stuff like that, it’s really refreshing seeing someone living his life in full, while on the other hand I lived mine always shying away from having genuine fun.

“You found us, kouhai ! Or I guess I should call you bro, now, huh ?” He takes place next to Kowa, in front of his drink. “You should really use my first name rather than family name. We’re all familiar, here ! - You may also use mine.” Adds Kowa… well, I guess, Ryuunosuke, now. - Uh… hello… Tsutomu.” I meekly answer. - So, whatcha talkin’ about ?” Tsutomu asks. - I decided to reveal to him the truth about the red cigarette. - Oh, so heavy stuff ! I guess you’re ready to fully transition to your new self, huh ?”

I look away, still uneasy about the whole debacle. Ryuunosuke visibly notices that, as he gives the stink eye to Tsutomu, before continuing to explain the situation to me.

“Hitoshi told us that using the cigarette would cause someone to be more like us, and it seems that it was correct, as you liked our music and you’re wearing the clothes Tsutomu bought you. But I don’t know how much more we need to give you before you can be fully alright with your new situation. - There’s really no way to fix that ? To go back to who I really am ?” I ask, little hope remaining. - Not to my knowledge. If you should ask anyone that question, it would be Hitoshi, but he will be opposed to turning you back.”

I sigh.

“So, if you want to know what are my problems right now, well… every morning I find myself looking for some kind of product to put into my hair, but I don’t have any… Is that part of the deal ? - The pomp is included ?” Laughed Tsutomu, before being scolded by Ryuunosuke’s angry look. “Nah, seriously, it’s not hard once you get the hang of it. Like, bro, I could show you right now in this bathroom ! - I…” I start answering, before I’m suddenly cut off. - He needs a haircut.” Interjects Ryuunosuke. “You may try, but I guarantee it will look like your biggest disaster. - Oh yeah, you’re right.”

As they discuss the logistics of hair-cutting, I take out yet another lollipop and put it into my mouth. Although it’s not perfect, it does make me feel more at ease. That red cigarette was weird, it looked bizarrely short, yet also inviting. Is that what I crave to go in my mouth ? No, it cannot be, Ryuunosuke clearly said that both he and Tsutomu don’t smoke, and that the effects make me more like them. Plus, smoking is very bad for the lungs, I don’t want any of that poison in my lungs…

“So we’re goin’, then ?” Suddenly said Tsutomu quite loudly, driving me out of my thoughts. - Uh… yeah ? Yeah, I guess.” I answer, unsure of what I’m agreeing to. Though I guess it’s the famed haircut that is being referred to. - Then let’s gooooo !” He celebrated, once again with much more enthusiasm than needed.

Smiling from his contagious glee, I follow both of the 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento) guys into a nearby barbershop. They’re visibly regulars in this place, as they present me to the owner who takes me in charge. I’m lead to a seat, where the owner promptly takes care of my hair. He cuts it mostly on the side, though not by much. It seems to mostly be adjustments, more than a complete change of style.

“So, you got roped into going リーゼント (rīzento). How did they do it ?” The barber suddenly asks. - Uh... well can’t I chose to try new things ?” I ask aggressively, not wanting to answer truthfully to his question. - Heh, I’m sorry ! It’s only because you don’t seem to be the kind of guys who would be into that. You may be dressed in leather, but it shows in your face that you’re not the kind of people who would usually do that.”

Quite a shrewd guy, to notice that. And I don’t even think Tsutomu and Ryuunosuke have explained to him the situation, so to deduce that merely from my face is quite impressive.

“Well, the truth is I unexpectedly made friends with them, and their hair made me a bit envious.” I half-lie. I guess I can call them friends, by now. - We agree, a well-maintained pomp is quite impressive ! Though I already tell you, I won’t be able to make one as impressive as theirs with your amount of hair. I’ll actually make one of a different type, an Elephant’s Trunk, if it doesn’t bother you. - Oh, okay. Well, I’m here to learn, so I won’t be picky. - Glad to be in agreement.” He says deferentially, before going on another subject. “But yeah, these two, Kowa and Soiri, they’re really good guys, if you go beyond their edginess. I can understand how you accidentally made friends with them. - Yeah, Ryuunosuke is very considerate, while Tsutomu is always in a good mood. They’re both refreshing in their own way.” I agree with him. - Already on first name basis ! Though they’re quick to ask to use their first name, I only continue using their surname because they’re my clients. - Yes, I guess that makes sense.”

Our discussion continues a while, as the barber starts applying products in my hair. He then combs it in the back in a ducktail, before combing the top into curls that rise to the center, combining in the front to a tube-like shape that is so reminiscent of anime it makes me smile. He then sprays more product, fixes a few details, and tells me a bit how to reproduce this style. He talks about using grease to comb and hairspray to keep it in place, as well as techniques to get the pompadour looking correct.

After a while of discussing, and me buying the necessary products, I go out of the shop with my great hairstyle, and see Ryuunosuke and Tsutomu waiting for me.

“It looks sooo great, kouhai ! I’m glad I took you here !” Exclaims Tsutomu, approaching me in a very familiar fashion. - It suits you a lot.” Agrees Ryuunosuke, nodding at the same time. - If you want any tip, don’t hesitate to ask us ! Once, I had this style, so I know exactly how to make it !”

And there goes Tsutomu rambling about all the hairstyles he’s tried in all his experimenting, and all the styles he may also try out one day. But I fully agree, it really feels like a piece of the puzzle has just been found. It immediately puts me more at ease, and although I know I’m not there yet, I know that now I can breathe.

“You know what ?” Suddenly asks Tsutomu. “You guys have class tomorrow ? - Only the afternoon.” States Ryuunosuke. - Uh… I…” I check my phone to see my agenda, and find it empty for tomorrow. “I don’t, surprisingly. - Well, why not go sleep over at my place ?”

I look at him surprised, not having anticipated this turn of events. It would be great, but… I don’t have any of my things, nor do I have anything to wear, I don’t know whether I need to check stuff at my flat, and…

Fuck ! This makes me stress so much ! I need something in my mouth ! I take out a lollipop in front of the guys, who look at me weirdly. What, haven’t they seen anyone liking sweets ? But yeah, actually, why not. I should take a cue out of Tsutomu and let go. If it’s fun, I should do it. Yeah, that seems way better.

“Seems good.” I answer. - Then we’re all set ! Let’s gooooo !” Celebrated Tsutomu.

It seems Ryuunosuke answered while I was considering. I hope I wasn’t too weird… NO ! Not weird, let’s ban this word from my dictionary !

Tsutomu leads us through streets and subway lines into a small flat, bigger than mine but not by much. However, just looking inside gives a good idea of who he is, as there are loads of colorful posters on the wall, an electric guitar – or bass, I don’t know the difference – and otherwise a lot of untidied clutter. Once inside, we hang out, have long conversations in which I participate eagerly, we dine – if instant ramen can be called a dinner – and all together have good fun.

When night falls, we get the futons out and place them aligned in the center of the tatami floor, with me in the middle – cozy ! Ryuunosuke and Tsutomu both take some kind of cap that looks like a plastic bag that they put around their hair. They urge me to do the same, but I refuse. I don’t want to sleep with a hat on. However, I do undress into my underwear, surprising both of them by my boldness -hey, that’s how I sleep ! – before I enter my futon to sleep.

When I wake up, I notice that the futon to my right is empty. After stretching a bit, I rise up and look around. On the futon to my left, Tsutomu is still sleeping quite deeply, or at least I assume so looking at his weird position. The blinds are half-opened, and looking behind me, I see Ryuunosuke taking his breakfast on the short table.

I go to stand up and sit in front of him. Weirdly enough, there seem to be a white box right next to his miso soup, I wonder what it is about… But as he finishes eating his bread, he hails me, taking on a quiet voice :

“Hey, kouhai. Slept well ? - Yeah, a lot easier than the last few days.” I answer, making him smile. - I’m glad you decided to come back. Even back when we went to see Kishidan I felt you were quite a good guy. - Thank you. I must admit I had my reservations, but you were so nice I couldn’t stay angry for long. Even if I like you better due to that weird cigarette thing. - Yeah.” He grimaces a bit. “I hope at least that you learned to be more considerate with this whole debacle. - I can’t say if I learned it, but… I’m really sorry about what I did to you three back then. No matter how I put it, I was in the wrong, and made you feel unwelcome somewhere you had all rights to be.”

He smiles and puts his hand on my shoulder.

“I forgive you. I know you weren’t doing it out of malice, but since you now apologized, I have no reason to hold any grudge. - Thank you very much…”

His smile is so tender, I can’t help but reciprocate it. He may feel quite formal, and not show a lot of emotion apart from the occasional sarcasm, I can feel that he is true to himself. His humility isn’t for show, it’s something I believe he truly is. That’s a quality I hope to possess one day, even if it’s only to stay true to myself and not mire myself in politeness.

“By the way, Hitoshi came here, earlier. I told him that we were staying at Tsutomu’s because he had something he had to drop off to you, but he had to work so he couldn’t stay.”

He gave me the small white box, which opened into a pack of cigarettes. Why did he give that to me ? I… I don’t smoke ! I don’t want to ! It’s useless to me !

“I know you’re not very fussed about getting that. Trust me, I was also skeptical. But don’t you have a craving for something to go in your mouth, sometimes ? - Uh… n-no ! Of course, not !” I lie, because of course it wouldn’t be cigarettes I’m craving for… right ? - You know, I saw you take out a lollipop. You also have a few in your pocket. You can’t lie to me.”

Seeing his uncompromising glare, I sighed. I don’t like to admit it, but he might be correct. Cigarettes might be what I’ve actually been craving for… unfortunately.

“Yeah. Since the beginning. I need something in my mouth. - Well, Hitoshi told me that the fact your change started with the smoke, it made you crave the smell, and that the fact that the contents of the change are based on Hitoshi, who’s quite the smoker, it means that you’re now very likely a smoker.”

I consider the cigarettes, not knowing whether it’s a trick or the actual last piece of the puzzle. I do know that it’s hard to ever come back from smoking, so even if it was a wrong guess, I’d now have a smoking problem. But on the other hand, I do crave for something in my mouth, and nothing has ever seemed as convincing as this… Ryuunosuke opens to me the door to the balcony, and hands me a lighter. I guess he is convinced… I mean, why would he not, the creator of the drug that made me change told him that smoking would be the missing piece ! But I still stand somewhat unconvinced…

… Eh, what did I say before ? That I shouldn’t overthink, and should do things I want to do.

So I take him in his invitation and go to the balcony, putting one of the cigarettes in my mouth. Oh god, it already feels good ! It’s the right size, the right texture, the right resistance… I didn’t want any of those crappy lollipops, I really wanted a cigarette !

Then, I light it up, and take my first drag…

And it’s heavenly ! I’m for the first time since the beginning of my misadventures feeling alright ! Not nervous, not anxious, just fine !

I take other drags, and this feeling of intense pleasure continues. Yes, I confirm, smoking was the missing piece. And it feels so good. This wonderful sensation of everything falling into place into a complete apotheosisis absolutely worth all the dangers and problems it comes with.

Suddenly, there’s some noise inside. I’d look inside, but I don’t want to trouble Tsutomu by stinking his house with smoke odor – even though it smells so good now, I still remember a time when I’d shy away from it.

“Oh, Hitoshi’s here ?” Asks Tsutomu’s groggy voice. “I’d recognize this smell anytime… - No, he came in earlier but he’s not the one smoking.” Answered calmly Ryuunosuke. - Huh ? Eh…” I hear some loud steps, likely Tsutomu trying to find the source of the smell. “Oh, kouhai, what are you doing here ? You’re already up ? - Yup.” I answer casually. “By the way, thanks for all your help, Tsutomu. And sorry for the first time we met. - Well, you’re welcome ! I’m glad we got to meet !” I hear him come closer. “Wait… the smell… is it coming from you !?” He notices, very surprised. - Yeah. I needed a smoke.”

He shuffles his way to the balcony, so I can see his very confused face. It’s fun to see him look like that.

“Wait, since when do you smoke ? - Since right now. - Uh… okay… and where are the cigarettes from ? - From… er, sorry, I don’t know his surname. From Hitoshi. - Oh, it explains all.”

It’s funny to hear him being shut up like that, he usually doesn’t ever stop talking ! But it might be the fact that it’s early morning, I myself am still quite drowsy. I finish peacefully my smoke while I hear Tsutomu preparing his breakfast in the back. He also asks what I like to eat, and I tell him I prefer rice.

Once everything is cooked up, and my cigarette was extinguished, I took place at the table, and conversations once again spring up. This time, I feel so much more at ease, I think I finally found what clicked for me. I look at them both. I’m glad to have found them, even if it meant losing myself in the process, because I’m sure the new me is infinitely better than the old.

“Thank you both for being here for me.” I suddenly thank them. “It… really meant a lot, even if I was confrontational back then.”

They smile at me.

“Don’t worry about it ! We’re bros, now !” Answers Tsutomu. - Yes, and friends are for life.” Acquiesces Ryuunosuke.

One day, you may be wandering the streets of Tokyo, and find people dressed in a 70 year-old style coming from the United States. That day, you may be meeting the 令和リーゼント (Reiwa rīzento), a small group of four artistic people who like to draw, paint, sing and play. Even though I would have never had imagined even holding a conversation with them, circumstances made me join them, and I couldn’t be happier. Life is too bleak when you can’t share it with friends.

And if you ever find yourself lonely in that part of town…

… just know that two red cigarettes still stand unused.

================================================

If I had one nickle for each time I write a story set in Japan and it devolves into a 6000+ words odyssey that involves tons of research, I’d have two nickles, which is not a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

Just so you know : the Bōsōzoku (暴走族) were youth biker gangs from the 80s who were known for public disorder and otherwise gang violence, and took inspiration from American greasers for their style. Today, there’s not a lot of them left and they aren’t seen as a danger anymore, but their style was captured in pop culture, and is one of the go-to style for youth delinquents in anime (cf. Yusuke Urameshi and Kazuma Kuwabara in Yū Yū Hakusho and the whole of Jojo’s Adventure’s cast, really). This style has also found its way in Chinese pop culture, though the original reference is fully lost over there.

Hope you found this interesting ! ^^

#male transformation #male tf #nerd to greaser #nerd to punk #nerd to bosozoku #greaser tf #punk tf #bosozoku tf #hairstyle tf #pompadour tf #smoking tf #mental change #transformation #tf story

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dark-frosted-heart · 5 months ago

Text

Roger Barel Main Route - Blind Love Chapter 24

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

slight nsfw, minors dni

And so this case came to a close—

Time continued to pass until my month as Fairytale Keeper was up…

Ale: Woof.

Kate: Huh, Ale?! Didn’t you go back home?

While I blinked at Ale, who jumped into my arms, Ellis came running after.

Ellis: Roger’s father just came by. He asked us to look after him for a while again.

Roger: He’s doing his own thing again. But it’s more fun when it’s lively around here, isn’t it Kate?

Kate: Yes. Come here, Ale!

Ale: Arf arf.

It looked like Ale would be spending more time in Crown Castle.

Roger: …There’s a typo here. Also, the case would be easier to follow if you wrote it in chronological order.

Kate: Ugh…Can you please go easy on me?

Roger was proofreading my report…

Roger: Now then…

Ellis: What are we toasting?

Jude: Just say somethin’ that works.

Kate: Eh, me? Then, um… To another uneventful day. Cheers!

We went out to drink with Jude and the others…

The time left flew by.

But it was enough time to make some memories—At last, my month was up.

Yes, today was the last day…

And the day to reveal to Roger what I had been planning.

All members of Crown, minus Roger, and I gathered in the audience chamber.

(Roger still hasn’t mentioned what his final trial is)

(I’m almost certain he’s going to make me do the impossible and then let me go…)

And say something like “don’t do something stupid like putting up with someone with a shortened lifespan like myself.”

(That’s why I—)

While I reaffirmed the thoughts hidden in my heart, Roger entered the audience chamber.

Roger: What’s with suddenly summoning everyone here?

Victor: We’re all here now. Then let's hold a ceremony for Kate’s continuation as Fairytale Keeper.

Roger: …O_O

(This is what I decided on, Roger)

I cracked a smile at his surprised expression.

Victor: Kate, not only did you keep Crown’s secret for a whole month as promised, you have also become an essential part of us. I’d like to express my most sincere gratitude. Thank you. The other day, she had come to me to discuss her continuation as Fairytale Keeper. If there are no mistakes in the proposal, then sign this letter of agreement to continue as Fairytale Keeper.

I stepped forward and signed the letter of agreement, set the pen down, and walked up to Roger who looked at me in surprise.

Kate: I intend to continue being a Fairytale Keeper and record Crown’s evil. More importantly, I want to continue helping you fulfill your ambitions. You probably thought we’d be parting ways today. I can’t be leave you anymore!

Roger: …O_O

Roger’s eyes widened even more…

Roger: Leave? What’re you talking about?

Kate: Huh?

Roger: You sure you’re not misunderstanding something here?

(Misunderstanding?? Eh, but!)

Kate: But you!

I heard someone clear his throat and turned to see William wearing his usual refined smile.

William: Roger, Kate. Do keep in mind that we’re in the presence of Her Majesty. Save your lover’s quarrel for another place.

As I bowed my head in a hurry, Ellis and Liam clapped…

Ellis: Anyway, congrats on your continuation as Fairytale Keeper, Kate.

Liam: I don’t know what’s going on, but if it means I can keep being with Kate, then I’m happy with it.

Harrison: I’m still curious about what Kate’s misunderstanding with Roger is. I’m confused.

Jude: I actually agree for once. Ya took up our time and now there’s a misunderstandin’. Are ya stupid?

Alfons: We’ll find out soon enough. In any case, we’ll have to deal with them making out in the castle. Ahh, so troublesome!

Elbert: Kate…I look forward to working with you more.

Victor: It seems everyone’s welcoming Kate’s continued role as Fairytale Keeper. I’m counting on you. Watch the light and darkness with your clear eyes together with Crown.

Kate: Victor, and everyone else…Thank you.

William: Now then, let’s have a moment of peace before our next condemnation. We should hold a dinner party for Kate. Come. Our beautiful robin who’s chosen to live in the dark—

William slowly reached out toward me, and as his fingertips were about to touch mine…

Roger: I know you lot like her, but we need to have a talk first.

Roger took my hand, fixed his gaze on me, and then threw me over his shoulder—

Kate: Hey, Roger?!

Roger: Sorry, but I’m taking this one.

And so the two disappeared behind the door.

Victor: William, you provoked Roger on purpose, didn’t you? You naughty boy.

William: We have robin with us. I’m allowed this much of a blessing.

He set me down on his bed and was in front of me before I even had a chance to sit up.

Roger: —So, what’s your aim? Since it looks like you’re conspiring with Victor.

(It doesn’t sound like Roger’s happy with my decision to stay as Fairytale Keeper…)

Kate: …I was eavesdropping earlier. Jude said that you’ve been shortening your lifespan by testing on yourself.

Roger: I see. I thought it was weird how you didn’t come back right away.

Roger let out a deep sigh.

Roger: I’m not always listening out for things, so I didn’t notice.

Kate: …I’m sorry for eavesdropping and then pretending I didn’t know anything. I thought you were going to use your final trial as a chance to keep me away.

(If that happened, then I’d be at a loss)

That’s why I thought I had to find a way to stay by Roger’s side before it happened.

Roger: It’d suck to be with a man who’s lifespan’s been cut short. So you thought it’d be a farewell?

I nodded slowly.

Kate: …Is it not?

Roger sighed again.

Roger: Everything you heard was true. But what I had planned for your final trial was the exact opposite of whatever you deluded yourself into thinking.

(Huh?)

Roger: Since I’m the eldest son of the Barel family, this is the account where the property and assets are saved, and this is the deed to the Barel family’s land. And this—

I started panicking as he pulled one unexpected thing out of his pocket after another.

Kate: Eh, uh, wait. What are you…

Roger went to get something out of his desk drawer, leaving me on the bed, confused.

Roger: Here, this is the most important thing.

He draped a lab coat over my shoulders.

(The embroidery on the lab coat…it’s my name)

As I traced the embroidery, a large hand rested on my head.

Roger: I definitely can’t say that I’ll live long. Because of that, I’m giving you everything that’s mine. More importantly, you’ll never be bored when we’re together. I’ll love you thoroughly. Kate. Be my lover, or don’t. If you choose to, then kiss me.

Kate: Roger, is this…?

When I looked into his eyes for confirmation, he nodded.

Roger: This is the final trial I had in mind.

Kate: …

The moment he said that, I almost stopped breathing.

(He couldn’t have prepared the deed and other stuff in a day)

(Meaning Roger never intended on letting me go…)

Realizing that I had misunderstood everything, my cheeks heated up.

Kate: …Wha

Roger: …Wha?

Kate: W-what is this…You should’ve said something sooner…

Roger: Pfft, hahaha. You’re the one that came up with some wild delusion. You’re still too naive. Do I look like the nice sort of guy that’d pull back for another?

You don’t.

You’re nice, but not. +4 +4

I forgot you were like this.

Kate: You’re nice, but not. You’re an egoist that can be either.

Roger: You like that, don’t you?

This man that was like poison, was the greatest egoist. He was a villain who made whatever he wanted his.

(In the end, I was so stupid for forgetting that)

Roger: I’ve thought about it like most people would. If there was a way to let you go. But when you came to save me in jail and gave me that pep talk, I was convinced. …Yeah, can’t let this one go. I wanted to make her own life mine. Besides, I’ve already told you. “I will never betray you without a reason. Never.”

(Ah…)

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Kate, I’ve taken a liking to you so I’ll promise you this. I will never betray you without a reason. Never.

~~ End flashback ~~

The hand that was on my head slowly pulled me in.

Roger: I won’t betray your love. Let’s be together, Kate. I can’t promise that I won’t make you sad. However—You can’t be satisfied by anyone else but me, can you?

Roger gently touched his forehead to mine and gave me a wicked smile.

(T-t-this…)

(This man~~!)

(But, the moment I fell for a selfish man like him, I lost!)

I squeezed my eyes shut and kissed Roger on the lips.

Kate: Roger, please make me your lover.

Roger: Likewise.

Roger kissed me back, but it didn’t end there. His kisses went lower, down my neck and chest.

Kate: Roger…?

Roger: I’ve been waiting a long time for this. Let’s do something that feels good that we haven’t done in a while.

Now that we were lovers, I didn’t have a reason to reject him.

(I wonder if Roger and I will finally do that tonight…)

As I listened to my heart pound, my body suddenly relaxed.

Roger: I’d be a waste if we went straight to the main course. Let’s savor this thoroughly.

I felt my heart beat faster as my breath hitched. But then—

Roger: Whoops, I got an appointment with Jude. See ya, Kate.

Before I could chase after the warmth, the door shut…

Kate: ……What?

I was left all alone in the room, confused.

…However, there was a meaning to this baffling neglect.

It was to make me commit this pleasure to memory—in other words, training me.

Kate: Nn..haa…so deep, I can’t.

Roger: If you don’t like it, we’ll stop here.

Kate: …Eh?

Despite tormenting my core so much, he slipped his fingers out too soon…

Kate: Mnn, Roger, there…feels so good…more…haaaa.

Roger: Nope, that’s enough for today.

Kate: What do you mean that’s enough…?

Roger: We’re in the middle of a serious lesson on anatomy. We’ll study here later.

Roger was the one that touched me first, but he came up with an excuse to stop, leaving me aching…

Roger kept denying me every time.

…And tonight was no exception.

Roger: Haha, you get so wet, so fast.

Of course I did, because Roger kept denying me release. My body became sensitive to even the slightest bit of stimulation.

Roger: …What do you wanna do, Kate? Wanna go all the way tonight?

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil jp #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger #ikevil roger route

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waltzingwithyourenemyattheball · 1 year ago

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PICK A CARD: MESSAGES FROM KRISHNA(Universe) BIG DESTINY!!

Left: 111 ; Right: 333

Disclaimer :

Take what resonates, and leave the rest.

All personal readings are paid.

You are not allowed to copy my work under any circumstances.

Thank you for allowing me to read for you, please provide feedback.

🌸111🌸

You will be called to step into a position of power, a position where others rely on you, someone with responsibilities on their shoulders, and this energy cannot be brought to fruition till you become worthy of being a leader. Know thyself, you strengths your limitations, what makes you, your defence mechanisms and everything else. Because self knowledge and awareness is the 1st step. I am getting that you should read Arthshastra, please do, it will be beneficial for you. It is telling you to work on your communication skills, I feel someone who is on the defensive, you may have people pleasing tendencies. Know how to be a good communicator, work on public speaking as well, practising in front of the mirror or recording yourself speak will be really good for you. You don’t have to post the video anywhere, just see, analyse, make notes and correct them next time. Even 5 minutes speaking with a 10 minute analysis would do wonders for you. Also BIG MESSAGE: LEARN TO ACCEPT YOURSELF. You are two criticsl, your shadow self ordered defensive self just wants to protect you, so nurture yourself, being too harsh in the beginning is so not the key to success, even acknowledging would do, journalling right before sleeping is a good way to do this. Just reading this and not taking action will lead you no where. Please put in the action. The key to that is intention. Intent to be what you need to be, and the rest will follow, it may not be a smooth ride but a worthy one. Comment 111 TO CLAIM THIS. READ IT. RE-READ IT. TAKE A PRINT OUT, SCREENSHOT, doesn’t matter. READ THIS EVERYDAY. 🌙 DM for a personal tarot reading, it would help you in stepping into your power🌙

🕊️333🕊️

Okay so, I am seeing you are rebellious one, the innovative ones, the ones who see things differently, some of you may have rahu-ketu (north node-south node, in sidereal/vedic) in 3rd house and 9th house axis. You are embarking on a journey, and asking questions about rules and traditions that heave been setting in place, it could be in any setting, corporate, workplace, home, society. This has made you look for a new way of thinking, like a new adventure, I am getting The Alchemist vibes, Harry Potter, going in search for truth of some sort, and revamping the pattern. You will be the one to change things around here, I am taking BIG CHANGES for some of you. You could be an integral part of the new way to do things, making an innovative way to work, going aganist the grain. Encouraging people to be free. You HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THE SLAVE AND RAT-CHASE MINDSET. You KNOW YOU ARE HERE TO LIVE LIFE, breathe every moment, living experiencing. This could lead you to travel a lot, learning about new cultures and ways, and making something out of those experiences. Key Place: Mountains, Hills, Rivers, Cold Places- these stand out the most. Note- Library and books are important, I saw this vision many times + SAMWELL TARLY from Game of Thrones.

YOU MUST KNOW THIS BY NOW, BUT YOU ARE IN FOR A BIG BIG ADVENTURE, I can actually FEEL YOUR THRILL, that feeling where your breathing then not at all, because you are in awe of the mystery that is about to be uncovered. It could be related to metaphysics as well.

Comment 333 TO CLAIM THIS.

🌙DM for a personal tarot reading, it would help you in stepping into your power🌙

For more guidance -> EL TAROT

EL TAROT

#pick a picture #pick a pile #pick an image #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a card reading #pick a card #free tarot #pac tarot #krishna #radhekrishna #radheshyam #destiny

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plasticfangtastic · 1 year ago

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American Royalty. Ch. 3

A Homelander X F! Reader and Dadlander fic.

A/N: Cuz somebody asked 'bout taglist... I'll be including one for those interested, if you want to be in it please leave a comment on the fic and i will include you in the next update as I be working on 'Of the same poisonous ilk' this week thus meaning next ch. of A.R. will come out next week. Plz check My Pin Post for previous chapters!! thxs for reading

Tags: mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance.

Chapter Three

White.

He followed you for two weeks, in that time he had made up his mind about putting those doubts at rest– he knew Helena wasn’t his. She looked nothing like him. You had to have been lying about the V, some clever ruse that you came up with on the spot, but that doubt now cemented itself, digging and clawing deeper in his brain… that perhaps he had been mistaken.

So he followed you, making notes about your predictably sad routine– you worked six days a week. The hours varied but you were always working (except for saturdays and most sundays you only did half days), you worked at Lucci’s four days, and as a cook and waitress at a local diner five days for really short shifts at a time either mornings or nights, it was frankly a nightmare to follow. Your skills almost wasted as you broke your back making corned beef sandwiches and serving tables. You usually seemed to make it home by 9 pm, and Kaleem (your boss) and his wife took care of your kid, you seemed close to the family of four that or they liked that your daughter tutored their kids for free, even their 17 year old relied on her, your neighbor also babysat in exchange for dog food and groceries, and money on the occasion.

Your daughter attended a local public school, already attending tenth grade at her tender age. Usually making her own way home or heading straight to your boss’s house, it was bizarre and frightening to see such a small child walk alone in dangerous Brooklyn streets but she didn’t seem afraid in the least, Homelander wouldn’t dare Ryan do that in Manhattan, he could see the tabloids headlines and a dozen dangers.

She entered a small park, resting by a bench for an awfully long time just not doing much until she looked up and stared back at the sky, she waved her tiny hand at Homelander, aware of what building he had been watching her from.

Helena scooted over giving him an open invitation, something he nervously accepted.

That day after seeing you for the first time, he had done his homework ordering a crew of interns to canvas all files for information partaning every child that was given compound V around the time of Helena’s birth, to check any discrepancies in old inventory records, and cctv footage that remained of those days to see if they’ve been altered, he worked them past clock off hours, and after a week they’d come empty handed, no child was given V that matched her description, he had found the hospital you’ve given birth and found no record of Vought’s grimy fingers, nor of any rogue scientist feeding kids V that was operating or suspected to operate around that time, His team also found that you never entered Helena on any casting calls, pageants or events. She had no superhero name registration or trademark, Vought manager or caseworker, or appeared on Vought’s records in any capacity, he clung to hope that maybe the information would come to light but the twenty people on the case were having no luck.

He entered the lab where a young recruit who had the least to lose handed him the results. He dared not read them outloud and instead took a step back as Homelander slumped against the wall.

So here he was staring at this little girl.

“You’ve been following my mother. I don’t really understand nor care much, but following me is a tad creepy, sir.”

“Could you hear me from over there?” He asked surprised, trying to look imposing with his stiff shoulders.

“I sensed you… I keep my radar on when heading home, that way I can keep an eye for treats– in the absence of super senses.”

“What sort of treats?” he said with ignorant concern.

“You don’t come down to the projects very often, do you?” She found his stiff posture interesting, wondering how much of it was habit versus the suit– so how may I help you?”

“I had some business with your mother.”

“Then how does it pertain to me?” she scoffed.

“Your mother never registered you with Vought. All super-abled children whether they choose to pursue this career or not– have to be registered at some point. I couldn’t find any records of a Helena L/N or your Superhero persona”

She chuckled lightly.

“Sure. That’s something the boss handles instead of some mid-level intern… So you think my mother stole some compound V while she was under your employment? I guess after a bunch of Supervillains began to come out of thin air– it is concerning that there’s unregistered Supe’s wandering around.” She stands up– If my mother had stolen compound V for profit do you think we would be living in this place?” She leaned back trying to control that shit eating grin teasing her lips.

“A cover story.”

“I think I was right about you.” She fixes her backpack, jumping off the bench, he follows her as she begins to walk away– "I always liked A-Train more than you. Out of the whole lot you look the most maladjusted, sir.”

“You have quite the mouth there, little missy.” His irritation was more than visible, he scrunched his hand, and the girl could only raise a corner of her thin lips in disbelief– "Your mother failed to teach you manners didn’t she?”

“I have manners. I reserve them for people who aren’t peeping toms, you clown.”

Homelander eyes glittered red, trying to control his anger, he looked away, squeezing his eyes– she was just a little girl with a mouth afterall, she could afford to be a brat.

As she walked away before he could take a step to pull her– Helena had disappeared. Everything about her was gone, he looked around finding nothing, the air hadn’t been pushed so she hadn’t run at hyper speed, he looked up to see if she had taken flight finding nothing, not even a shadow out of place– she had simply vanished.

He was left perplexed, his senses unable to pick up on anything nearby.

He was back at the tower, looking at the pile of documents they had gathered of you, your finances were a wreck, he hadn’t even remembered asking for any of these things done to you. His chest heavy as he noted just how thorough Vought had been, but that meant nothing, he had money to spare. Helena had a bad mouth but what child wouldn’t be hardened by living in the slums? What child wouldn’t come out damaged if they lived so poorly and without a father? By a mother that had done nothing but neglect them.

He could fix it.

“What are you doing?” Ryan asked, entering his father’s studio as he read– I saw this movie was out and I thought…”

“Just work, tiger.” He pushed his work down– we can go see a movie… let me see if Ashley can reserve the cinema for us.”

That wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was something.

Homelander could barely contain his excitement, he was certain Ryan would be happy when he could deliver the news.

Now he was at your workplace once again, just an hour before opening. It was only you, another cook and your boss doing all the prep-work, he was out in the back as you stood out to drop some rubbish, your apron covered in flour and you reeked of san marzano tomatoes and shampoo.

“We need to talk.” He said firmly.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You said weakly, feeling bile burning at the bottom of your throat– I… I have to go.”

“Helena is my daughter so we need to talk.”

You froze, your eyes so wide they could pop out of their sockets if you opened them any further, you looked at the door and closed it wishing nobody else heard him, not even the rats and roaches.

“There’s nothing to discuss. I told you… I told you back then she was yours! And you ruined my life for it!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, I just dumped you.” he waved his arms to match his scoff– now–

“You… You… You don’t remember what you did? God I really didn’t matter to you…” You couldn’t hold back the flow of tears– You took everything from me!!”

The gap between you two was broken by your own feet, your knees shook but hatred kept you standing.

“You had me blacklisted from every fucking restaurant in the country! Most of my savings were frozen by the fucking FBI over some bullcrap investigation, and I still can’t even touch my own fucking money!! My insurance was canceled somehow! and then your fucking company bought my apartment building and evicted me!!” You growled and shouted, your spat on his face as you pushed him to no avail– I was pregnant living in my fucking car with a few thousand dollars in the most expensive city in the world!!”

Homelander had nothing to say, feeling the spit drip down his cheek.

“I… I lost everything. And just to hurt me you made Helena a Supe… did it make you happy? Did it make you happy when I had to sleep in a shelter with a newborn and 30 thousand dollars in debt!?” You took a step back trying to clean the tears clinging to your eyes– You don’t get to talk about my daughter.”

“The one you barely see.”

“WHOSE FUCKING FAULT IS THAT!!?” you pulled on his suit forcing him to see you straight in the eyes– We got nothing to talk about. Helena is mine, you abandoned her! you don’t get to waltz into her life as if you deserve it after all you did! She doesn’t need you! Not when all the pain you cause wasn’t worth it”

“I didn’t know I could have children.”

Becca had looked at him with fear and disgust more than anger, but your words reminded him of her, he had made a mistake then, now Ryan had to live with the weight of killing his mother. Had he played his cards less impulsively, she would have relented.

“I was told I was infertile. That I had nothing down there, not even wonky swimmers! Why would I believe you…?” He bit his lip grabbing your hands as he had gently done so in the past– my whole life I was told I could never have a family, the one thing they failed to do when they made me… until I discovered Ryan… back then… back then I–

“Don’t touch me.” You pulled your hands but his grip is solid– I don’t want to listen to you.”

“I am sorry!”

His eyes were hurt, he softened his grip as you took your bruised hands back.

You wanted that apology but this wasn’t it. It didn't matter at the end, you wanted him gone but you would regret this later, as you saw those hurt blue eyes, all you saw was his daughter, it was as if she had a copy of his expression tattooed on her dna.

“... Come to my house by midnight tonight…”

You left him there.

Thinking of Helena’s tear filled blues.

You were becoming insane, the whole day at work you stayed silent, quietly building pies and cutting pizza, just another busy day. Calling the diner telling them Helena’s sitter had called in sick, and nobody could watch you kid.

Helena seemed happy to have the extra time with you even if all she did was do her homework and listen to some free college classes that she had somehow managed to enroll in (probably thanks to her teachers) while you watched TV. You looked at the recording discussing thermodynamics which she seemed to be struggling with. By ten she was in bed and you waited, finding yourself baking a Torta della Nonna while waiting for a man you weren’t sure would show up, taking a short nap until something tapped at your foot.

“Helena…?” you said groggily.

“No.”

Looking at him in your home woke you up harder than an earthquake, you jumped on your feet quickly to make distance.

“You could knock on the door! Did… Did you come through the window?”

“Didn’t want to wake up Helena.”

“Please don’t pretend you suddenly care about her. Look… I will listen to you… I need to know why you made her a Supe.” your words are low but fast.

You took to the kitchen, taking a small pot, honey and saffron.

“I want to know what you want so YOU can move on, and leave us alone.”

He stood by the entrance arms tucked behind his back with a look of indignation, as you took the milk out of the fridge.

“I made cake… still like milk?”

You heated the milk, infusing it with a pinch of saffron and a dash of honey, you seemed happy to serve this, this was what you served Helena when she had too many bad days.

“Helena is a very special girl… she’s so smart but I think she’s lonely. Her powers make it hard for her to have friends, being a super genius makes it hard for her to relate to kids… then on top of that there are the other powers– she really lucked out there but I can’t afford to make her into a Supe. You wasted your time there.”

She was your pride, you wanted to bolster to anybody about how special your daughter was, she was all you had after all, the only thing that kept you going. You wanted to shove it in his face just all the good that he had thrown away, and will never experience.

“She can teleport.” He said taking the cup, the taste was sweet and delicious, it would help him sleep soundly tonight– pretty impressive.”

“Teleport?” You look puzzled then your head shakes as you laugh lightly– no, silly. She can’t teleport. I gathered you talked to her– don’t do that again. But… no she can’t teleport… Helena can turn invisible like Translucent but better… She can make her clothes invisible too, and make psionic force fields. What you witnessed was her putting herself in an invisible bubble and making the bubble float away from you.”

You tried to contain the panic inside you with a stiff grin, boasting calmed you down.

“I didn’t hear her heartbeat.” He argued back.

“What happens in the bubble stays in the bubble… including sounds. Trust me I’d sat down and watched her experiment.”

“That’s impressive.” He smiled proudly.

“Until she runs out of oxygen.” you moved past him wishing you had space for a dining table, all you had in your living room was a coffee table, your couch, the TV and two large floor cushions, you and Helena ate on the floor in front of the TV and your seating options felt too intimate but alas is the floor– she has two types of force fields…”

“Can she fly?”

“Technically no but yes if you ask her, the second type of bubble… she can float inside it, but I won’t let her test the limits of the bubble.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want my daughter to end up splattered all over the sidewalk!” you hissed.

Homelander followed you, taking his place on the floor too excited to talk about this to care about being asked to sit like a dog

“So she’s out there with the best… When she was three she told me her superhero name was ‘Ghost Girl’ but that died quickly. So it's your turn to talk, Homelander.”

Homelander was unsure where to begin, taking a long sip of his drink, you had stopped calling him by his name, you had taken John and made it your own, but he had taken it back as he ended it all.

So he told you quite a story, about how he learned about Ryan, about all the secrets Vought had kept from him, how they had kept Ryan trapped in a cage, about the lies he told you about his parents, and his actual upbringing. You sat in silence unable to respond as he told you the horrific things he endured with a straight face, as if you were speaking to somebody else, about how much he had wanted a family and about how he felt when he believed you’d betray him.

Homelander had been happy, he thought he had finally found somebody to have a life with, he was angry, he wanted to hurt you, and after it was all done he pushed your memory aside.

But above all how he now regretted it all.

“I was awful to you, but now that Vought belongs to me that means they will never hurt Helena.”

You stared at him coldly.

“So Ryan was born with powers… So no matter what– Helena would have always had powers?”

“I don’t know. Her powers are nothing like mine, and she’s still young so she might…”

“God I certainly hope not. Look I’m sorry all of those things happened to your son, and you. I’m glad Helena is safer now, and I thank you for that— but cut to the chase. What is it that you want? You want me to tell her about you? She never wanted a father, heck I don’t think she needs me!” You snapped, trying to force the empathy out of your system.

“Why would you say that?”

“Helena is… different… I dunno what is happening in her mind ever.”

It stung to say those things, your love for her didn’t change things, but it was a pervasive thought you endured… awful thoughts about your daughter.

“Helena was a quiet baby… hardly ever cried. I took her to several doctors and nobody could figure out why my baby didn’t cry, why she seemed to live inside her mind, why she always stared at nothing… When she started to talk, the more she absorbed, the more she learned, the less of a baby she became– my daughter is an adult trapped in a baby’s body.” You took a quick bite but it was hard to swallow– the first time she showed her powers… the force fields… we were walking home when some drive-by took place. We had only gone for a stroll, I wanted to save on gas so we walked to the grocery… we… when the bullets stopped in front of my own eyes.”

You could see that sunny afternoon so vividly, the random kids doing their thing until some gray car drove by, the thunderous sound of bullets, and a wounded boy staring at the bullet that would’ve taken his life had your daughter’s forcefield hadn’t enveloped the whole sidewalk.

With a slight flick of her wrist the bullets were returned, two men lost their lives and one was wounded, the group of kids on your sidewalk survived and the boy who almost bled out, your boss’s nephew helped you get your job.

“Helena didn’t care.”

Those two lifeless bodies rotting slowly before you, hadn’t mattered to her, she simply scoffed and asked if the police were going to arrest her before the ice cream melted.

Homelander now had something to work with in terms of records but he didn’t need them anymore.

“I love her… but I worry she’s…”

“She just needs to be with more of her kind. Y/N I want to offer you a job… your job back…”

“No.” You jumped back on your heels– I don’t want anything to do with you, Homelander.”

“I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes I did with Ryan and her mother! I want to be in her life and you need me to be in her life…” He bore his fangs– with her powers you cannot provide her with the future she deserves. You would never clean enough tables and scrape enough tips to get her what she deserves–

“So you’re just going to wave money at me and act like that fixes everything?” There was so much disgust in your face, even he grew silent– I… I don’t want your money and I’ll make sure Helena has all she needs, if you want to give me money why don’t you start by unfreezing MY bank accounts so I can move the fuck out of this place! If you are so concerned about your daughter’s wellbeing all of a sudden… then let me take care of her.” You growled at him.

“Would that be enough for you to let me be in her life?” He looked so vulnerable right now trying not to anger you further– If you take… if you take the job at Vought you’ve making four times what you make at your two jobs”

“I don’t want to owe you anything.”

You hated yourself, your ego and your honor had been bruised and never healed, you clung to those broken limbs hoping you had it in you to deny him but that look in his eyes and his crazy story told you he wasn’t ever going to stop until he got you to agree.

You knew what man he truly was, you could still see the red, hear his screams and the smell of blood. For once you had to be a hypocrite.

“... You… You can’t tell her… until… until I think it is okay… I won’t work for you… not the job that you’re offering me… I can quit my second job and take yours part-time. I’ll choose my days! Only three days tops, same pay! and Helena can have access to Vought training resources and daycare.” You sank on your shoulders– her powers are only going to get stronger and if she ever loses control… it’ll be my fault if somebody gets hurt again.”

The request was absurd but Homelander was on his feet taking your hand, a beam in his eyes and a shaky smile.

“Your son… he might take it badly if you suddenly bring another kid saying is his sister, you have to be gentle or he’ll get hurt. We can try figure this out… just don’t hurt my kid or yours.”

Your concern was genuine, and his heart began to melt as he saw the worry in your eyes for a child that wasn’t yours.

“Thank you… can… can I come tomorrow to discuss the details?”

You nodded, unable to look at him in the eyes any further, shocked when you received a strange short lived hug, as he parted and headed to the door where your daughter slept soundly, he peered through the crack for quite some time.

You hated him but you couldn’t deny you needed the help, he owed you seven years of child support, he had made you sleep in your car, he had made you fearful of sleep as you slept in shelters and filled you with shame as you jumped from couch to couch with the world's quietest baby.

So he had his usefulness, money wouldn’t fix anything but it would make Helena's life easier.

Taglist: Hi 'cuz you asked here you go @fromforeigntofamiliarity

#personal #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #the boys oc #homelander fanfiction #american royalty #my fic tag #homelander x f! reader #will add to pin post later

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chewiiez · 7 months ago

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idol! idol! idol au part two!

let’s actually discuss the jw scandal, since everyone was curious (✯ᴗ✯)

in the original tgcf, we know that one of the main ways jw manipulated/tortured xie lian was through isolation! the xianle war being a indirect factor into making mq leave, and fx being forced to leave by xl because he was in such a bad state mentally due to the hallucinations. hc has to leave, too, because he was but a mere ghost flame. in those weakest times, was when xie lian truly lost his sanity, was tortured beyond belief. and that’s the sort of route i want to take with this au.

let’s reiterate: on the survival show, because the unfolding of events there is super important. mu qing being brought back was a great decision for most, but for some toxic ot3 stans, he becomes their punching bag. to isolate xie lian, jw takes the first step: getting the other members out of the picture! and with his ceo fingers, he strings together a bullying scandal.

if you don’t follow kpop or other idol industries, a bullying scandal is basically your reputation in the mud. bullying scandals have ruined so many idols’ lives, especially the false ones. dispatch, paparazzi, will post whatever clout they have, and netizens will devour it, and proceed to harass said idol. to create a false scandal would mean that jw has guaranteed mq’s exit ticket, because him staying in the group would affect their reputation. remember the shackle on mq’s wrist? yeah, with a few threats to the other member’s safety, jw manages to make mq leave the group.

and just like in tgcf, mq soon becomes hated by the other 3 members, because yeah, the scandal, proof, and fabricated texts looked legit. and finding a lawyer…was tough. soon, mq’s insta is gone, and any support for him (except for a few of his genuine stans) is wiped off the timeline. all we see is #justiceforx3 and #kickmqout trending.

following the canon order, feng xin is next. another toxic part of idol culture is diets. and my headstrong belief is that feng xin would say “fuck you” to the diets and build his muscle his way. (diets can be interpreted as the cultivation method xl+mq were on, too.) when jw threatens him, and forces a same fate on feng xin, feng xin realizes he must leave: to make sure he can still stay in contact with xl, redeem himself and talk to mq, and file a fucking lawsuit. because no way in hell is fx letting jw off the hook. i haven’t developed this part yet, but thinking about fx hinting at hc about how something is wrong, and hc catching on to jw’s sus behaviour.

x4 is no more. jw has almost succeeded. the only thing blocking his way? gege’s #1 believer, hua cheng. threats don’t work on this guy. hc alerts xl, who isn’t stupid, guys. he pretends to play along, but is really secretly recording all these conversations as proof to present in court.

meanwhile, fx meets with a solemn mq, who refuses to talk to him, or do anything idol related. he finds that mq’s mom died, which put him in an even worse situation. like every post-canon tongulu fix-it, fx slowly realizes his mistakes, but mq also realizes his lack of communication. a slow romance is perhaps in the works, but the more important part? saving xl. once mq is let in on the plan, he reveals every small detail he’s collected, from evidence proving him innocent, and snippets of conversations he recorded, to strict, unfair, diets.

and just as xl is about to finalize the details of his solo contract, hc whisks him away (with full consent). A very controversial figure has sent some data to dispatch, and the shit has hit the fan, because suddenly the mq stans are out of hiding, with full reciepts. a once-in-a-lifetime event occurs, where fxmq stans bond together to make threads upon threads of mistreatment. oddly anonymous accounts leak texts, voice snippets, and other proof of fake bullying scandals and the general mistreatment x4 has faced: whether it be line distributions, restrictions, or other things. it is a chaos. bad for jw, but just amazing for x4.

jw is arrested, held at trial where he pleads guilty. jail, jail. #weloveyoumq, #weloveyoufx, #weloveyouxl, #weloveyouhc are the top 4 trending tags. #foureverswithx4 is everywhere. x4 mends their relationship tentatively, they reopen their social media, and sign contracts under YH entertainment, the same producer on their survival show, Yushi Huang’s company.

XI4NLE is back, better than ever.

and that’s the jw scandal (*´ω｀*) wdym i spent a lifetime on this haha...ofc not...

next is song recs and lime distributions, as well as dynamics :D

#chewy chews #idol au pt 2 #fengqing #tian guan ci fu #hualian #inflicts trauma on all of them and cackles evilly #suddenly i am not ashamed to be a kpop fan

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ratkingnezu · 3 months ago

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Jomies 2am Jack-In-The-Box Run

An idea @rosypenguins and I came up with, and something I chose to ponder over the course of a week(-ish). This fic takes place after the other drake fic I wrote, so they’re all cool w each other :3 (plus i’d wager Drew and Jake have gotten closer because of the prior fic…)

~*~*~*~

“Gooooooooddddddd, there’s nothing to do around hereeeeeeeee…..” Henry said, throwing up one of Drew’s pillows.

“Why can’t we just game some more?” Liam asked, looking over towards Drew.

“Oh hell no, my eyes hurt enough already. Besides, i’m way too tired to do anything else right now.” The purple haired boy said with a sigh.

A silence grew, the boys wondering what activities they should partake in at these hours, when their token blonde piped up.

“I mean… I am kinda hungry, i don’t know about you guys.” He said with a slight chuckle.

“Yknow… come to think about it, the last thing I ate was some pretzels before I came over.” Liam added.

“Oh yeahhhhhhhh, I mean I really only had that juice earlier so I could go for some grub right about now-!“ The green boy said, laughing as he fell from the bed, failing to catch the overthrown pillow, Liam joining his laughter while Jake and Drew just chuckled.

“Yo, floorhead.” Drew said after the commotion died down, “What places are even open at this hour?” He glanced over at Jake, “Any ideas, Jakey?”

“Hmmm… oh! I know Jack in the Box is open right now, they do all sorts of stuff.”

“Yeahhh!! Let’s do that!!” Henry said, grasping Drew’s mattress as he climbed back up onto it.

Liam shrugged, “I don’t mind anything really, so that works.”

Drew kept silent as he nodded along with Liam, standing up. “Alright, i’d assume we’re going there?” The gang piped up with yeses coming from them all, as Drew overlooked them. “So, who’s driving us?”

Blondie raised his hand, “I feel the most awake right now, so I can drive us.” He stretched upwards, yawning and grunting as they got up and walked to his borrowed car.

Car doors were shut, and the boys went on their way to the dingy Jack’s a couple miles from their town. They used to frequent this location after school whenever there was a special event, but ever since they got older, their tastes were also growing more refined. But tonight was a different story, and backed by the glittery night skies, their music and glee filling the air, they drove down the streets of their deathly-quiet neighborhood. Their short drive was accompanied by the singing voices of Liam and Henry, Jake occasionally joining in followed by Drew secretly recording him.

The clique pulled into the drive thru, Jake ordering their items followed up by the quarrel of who would be paying for their feast tonight. Jake ended up paying for them, Liam and Henry promising him money when they went back to school. They pulled into the parking lot, making sure they got everything.

“One burger meal with curly fries and sprite, an order of chicken tenders with halfsie fries, and a breakfast sandwich with a hasbrown and coffee… we got everything!” Jake said with a smile as he began to drive back to Drew’s place, the food resting on the floor in front of their host. Liam and Henry complained about their hunger, closely tailed by Jake scolding the two about “what happened last time”. Their drive home was about the same as the drive out, and when the car shut off their steps were retraced as they headed back inside to begin their feast.

Jake and Drew set the table while Henry and Liam helped themselves to some of Drew’s water bottles stocked in his garage freezer, everyone knows he doesn’t need them. And once the table was set, and everyone’s seat was made, they all sat down. Well.. not before Henry stood up.

“My fellow people… friends… even, comrades i’d say! It is my great honor to join you all in the partake of this feast, and I shall say a few words, I-“

“Shut up and eat dumbass! You can yap all you want on a full belly.” Liam said, lightly punching Henry’s arm.

“Fine, but i should summarize… you guys are awesome and I love being your friends!”

Henry sat down laughing, Liam cheering while Jake and Drew smiled and golf clapped.

As the boys ate, there was no lack of entertainment. Henry and Liam of course devoured their split meal, giving puppy eyes to Drew for half of his hashbrown and to Jake for the rest of his Sprite and some curly fries. Jake took a swig, before handing it to Drew who did the same. He then gave it to Henry and Liam, who fought over turns and fries like a pair of brothers. Jake laughed as Drew looked to him, smiling. As always, he was enamored by this boy. And through conversation, they had finished their feast.

“Whew man I am STUFFED! Thanks Jake!” Henry said loudly, looking over at Liam who said his thanks as well. Drew’s smile persisted as he too thanked the blonde, who had played it off as “his treat for such good friends”. Henry and Liam rushed back to the room while Drew and Jake cleaned the table, the boys talking about the stupidity of the other two.

“Those two sure know how to get their way, don’t ya think?” Jake asked, cleaning off their plates.

“Yep.. they’re like a couple of children.” Drew scoffed with a cracked smile on his face, “It’s like they’re always on the same wavelength.”

“I mean, considering how long they’ve known eachother, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d know the other like the back of their hand!” Jake chuckled, drying dishes with Drew.

As they finished, Drew looked into Jake’s eyes as they exchanged nervous giggles. “Yknow, Jake…” the magenta haired boy said softly with a smile on his face, “I wouldn’t mind getting to know you like that…” he chuckled, pulling Jake in and softly kissing him, and with the same grace he placed his hand on Jake’s cheek as he pulled out of it. “Thanks for dinner, dork.” He then turned and walked out of the kitchen, poorly hiding himself losing his shit at the stunt he just pulled.

Jake really couldn’t help but to want the same thing, his giddiness showing for a minute before he followed behind Drew to their group-shared room.

#tmf #the music freaks #freakblr #rosyblr #tmf jake #tmf drake #tmf drew #tmf henry #tmf liam #tmf henriam

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on-a-mechtechnicality · 8 months ago

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Idol

The morning sun illuminated the DropShips towering over the encampment and Sigrid was making her way ‘home’. The mess tent was disappearing behind her and the sounds of the camp faded along with it to be replaced by the din of people working around the towering vessels.

She boarded, finding herself in the small human-sized corridors that made the ship feel almost cramped. The feeling didn’t last as she soon found herself face to face with the cavern that was the MechLab. It looked big from up in the overlook, where she could see the entire area, but from here on ground level she didn’t think she’d ever get used to it.

Every single Bay was lit up and most had ‘Techs working on repairing the damaged machines inside. Despite this, one of them seemed cloaked in shadow. No light reflected onto the walkway in front, and from where she just entered she couldn’t see into the Bay.

The moment she could though, it all made sense.

Sigrid blinked.

Siggy opened her eyes and bounced to the mirror. In it she saw a girl with a great big mop of unruly red hair. She sat down and brushed and brushed and brushed, and then started braiding, just like Mom had showed her. Each strand meticulously on display.

Behind her on the wall hung her dream. On the left of the twin posters an impressive looking ‘Mech stepped out of a blazing inferno. Legs bending backwards, striding resolutely forward with two arms and great big rocket pods on its shoulders.

Beside it was a much more sedate but much more interesting dream. The same ‘Mech, now laid out in excruciating detail in an exploded technical view. Sometimes when she couldn’t sleep, she looked over the poster to read all the things she read a thousand times. Where the actuators were, where the sensors were, every single line on the diagram committed to memory, familiar and comforting.

And then she blinked again.

In front of her, black as a moonless night, stood her dream. A towering and proud machine, dormant but steadfast. Almost… alive.

The engineering on the foot in front of her was masterful, if she looked close enough she could see every piece of articulation, not a rivet out of place despite the well-worn look. Her eyes drifted from the trifold feet to the massive calf actuators and then further up. To the upper legs, the sleek torso and the arm actuators ending in dual hardpoints.

She couldn’t see the missile banks, but she knew them. She could see every familiar component, every single caption from her posters on Utrecht.

It didn’t just live up to her expectations, this machine exceeded it.

Blink. Work to do.

Sigrid synced her tablet with the docket and looked over her assigned tasks.

MechTech: Sigrid Guntran Initial assignment: Timber Wolf ‘Death Knell’ Bay: 8 Work order: right torso; replace armor plating right torso; general maintenance Full systems check Notes: Sigrid, sorry to put this on ya last minute, but I know you can do it! I’m trying to keep low so the MedTechs don’t get me. -Karrie

She looked down at her tablet, and then up at her dream. Part of her wondered if this was real, and another part supplied that she was currently working on an SLDF DropShip, deep in the Rimward periphery, on a hostile planet, under the command of a beautiful avian woman so old that the show she was on with the other Clan totem warriors – who were also here – was considered a historical record.

Working on an actual Timber Wolf didn’t seem so odd anymore.

She climbed up to the catwalk and found the Bay controls. From up here she could see the majesty that was the Timber Wolf from its rear angles, a dark void contrasted against the bright industrial lighting of the MechLab. She knew every angle, every single curve of the machine’s panelling by heart.

As the platform on the ‘Mech’s right side was lowering into position, she moved around to follow it. Panning down from the side she could see where the torso armor had taken the hits. Large chunks were warped or missing, open wounds showing the delicate internals that thankfully seemed to be in good shape. How good a shape she would have to find out later. Right now, the armor needed to come off.

She knew the automated arms could be more efficient, but they weren’t as accurate as handheld power tools. A machine of this caliber deserved those. She let the winch above her come down. Before connecting the straps onto the armor she placed a hand on the wounded ‘Mech.

“We’ll get you fixed up, don’t you worry.”

She hooked the straps to the attachment points in the armor and tensioned the lines. Bit by bit she carefully detached the panel until only the tension from above held them in place. Then it was just a light pull until it started moving.

She slowly guided the crane to move the panel out of the way and safely to the floor level of the Bay, out of the way of the walkway. A tap or two on her tablet flagged it for repairs. A forklift would be along soon.

With the panel out of the way she could see the underlying internals, sleek steel pipes contrasting harshly and beautifully against the black of the surrounding panels. And she knew them.

She knew the coolant from the lubricant from the hydraulics from the electronics at a glance, the labels only confirming what she already knew. Every conduit flowed like a symphony around the frame.

Around the places the armour had been gauged, she looked a little closer. Signs of damage would be hard to spot among the labyrinth of angles, but a visual inspection was part of the troubleshooting process. Her eyes danced over each line, following them from one end of the panel gap to where they snaked back into the ‘Mech’s interior.

All looked clear and secure, Clan engineering ensuring that even in the event of armor breach, the primary systems would not be easy to take out. Let alone the secondary and tertiary.

The systems looked undamaged, so she let the platform carry her down, just in time to see the panel being driven to the manufacturing wing. She followed along, not minding that she couldn’t keep up with the forklift. It’d give them some time to offload before she showed up. The difference in time between walking and driving was significant when dealing with this much space. Sigrid enjoyed the walks though, the Bay in operation was a soothing cacophony of all the different tools interacting with every material under the sun.

The armor repair itself was repetition more than anything. Identify a damaged subpanel. Remove the damaged subpanel. Find a suitable sized replacement. Shape the replacement. Attach the replacement. Repeat.

The capstone was the painting. It needed to match the existing color scheme, and match it well. Fresh paint also looked different from worn paint, but that was nothing they couldn’t handle. In the brochure it had never said that being an artist was part of being a MechTech, but the surprise had been a pleasant one.

The paint fresh but no longer wet, she followed the forklift back to Bay 8. It was already hoisted up and ready to be placed. She considered the automated tools, but for installation the accuracy was even more important than for removal, and handheld tools were king.

The work was honestly calming to Sigrid, alone up on the platform, grafting new skin onto the wounded ‘Mech in front of her. Bit by bit she circled around the edge of the panel until everything looked like she never touched it at all.

She climbed back onto the catwalk where her equipment was stored. She took out her neurohelmet and opened the compartment on her toolkit where she kept her soft tools. She knew them by heart, but looking through them helped remind her which ones she had available should the need arise.

The hop from the catwalk to the top of the Timber Wolf was not a big one. The matte black paint on the armor made it a little harder to judge. What made it really hard to make the jump though, was that Sigrid knew what she was about to do.

She was about to hop on top of a Timber Wolf. She was about to open the latch and lower herself inside. She already knew what it would look like, she knew the view from the cockpit, she knew the exact dimensions of the enclosure.

And that made it all the more daunting.

Gathering her will in her mind and her grip on her neurohelmet, she took the hop.

She was standing on top of a Timber Wolf. She was working on it, it was her work. It was her dream. She unlocked the hatch and allowed herself to slip inside.

Inside the ‘Mech it was quiet. No hum from the reactor, no sound arrived from the outside. There was just Sigrid, trying to calm her breathing, and the terrifying, loving embrace of a dream.

Her mind knew the startup sequence of a ‘Mech. Her fingers danced this dance before. And yet she couldn’t stop trembling as she toggled the first switch.

Bay power to auxiliary generator.

The high-pitched whine of the generator filled the cockpit. It was reassuring, it was terrifying, it was exhilarating.

Flick.

Auxiliary power to emergency lighting.

The lights around her came online. Dim compared to the view through the cockpit, but plenty bright enough to see by.

Auxiliary power to diagnostic systems.

Screens flickered to life. White text flew over a black background as the ‘Mech rose from slumber. Not awake yet, but no longer asleep. Sigrid listened to the whine and the soft clicks performing a symphony of self-tests. The ‘Mech checked its pressures, checked every single one of its connections in a lightning-fast choreography of every system it could access.

The text scrolled by faster than she could read, but she wasn’t looking for text. She was looking for colors. She was looking for the orange that signified a warning, the angry red that signified a fault. Her heartbeat punctuated the soundscape as seconds ticked past.

And then nothing.

No more text flying by, nothing more to focus her attention on. Just a single phrase that was both the best thing she could have read and the most disappointing.

Self-test: 100% Warnings: 0 Errors: 0 System status: OK

No need to diagnose further, it would not be time well spent. It would be time spent with her dream, but that didn’t matter.

She powered down the ‘Mech, returning it to cold and dark status. Ready for when it would be needed again. She picked her neurohelmet from where she set it down and held it in her hands. She stared at the visor.

Reflected in it she could see a woman with red hair in a tight bun, sitting inside the cockpit of a Timber Wolf. Her dream.

She sighed and rotated the helmet around. With trembling hands she placed it on her head.

She wasn’t plugged in.

The ‘Mech was powered down.

She had better things to do.

Siggy closed her eyes. It didn’t matter.

She had her helmet on

Made from an old football helmet, Utrecht Kodiaks logo covered with silver tape

She could see the canopy in front of her

Made from a laundry basket, tipped on its side

She knew exactly where the missile pods were

Two cardboard boxes, placed on the sofa behind her

She was in the cockpit of a Timber Wolf.

The beat of her heart and the sound of her breath were the only things accompanying her for this moment in time, etching itself into her memory as her visor slowly fogged up without the air circulation connected.

She took off her helmet and held it in her hands, staring into the condensed visor one last time. There was work to be done.

She extracted herself from the cockpit and closed the hatch beneath her.

The hop from the ‘Mech onto the catwalk was both easier and harder than the other way. She landed with a soft impact of her work boots.

She placed her helmet with her toolkit and sat down on the upper catwalk, out of sight of anyone working, staring at her dream.

She raised her tablet. Four taps was all it took.

Work order complete

@jaded-falcon

#battletech #mechwarrior #story event

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the-force-awakens · 2 years ago

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strange birds

Summary: Following a skirmish with a version of Kraven, you tend to Miguel's injuries.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Word Count: 2k.

Warnings: referenced canon typical violence, mild descriptions of injuries, implied/referenced past bad relationships (nothing explicit, nor is the kind of relationship defined), hurt/comfort because it's my speciality.

A/N: I really thought I was done writing reader fic, but I got attached to miguel and I opened docs and this accidentally fell out, whoops. This has been cross-posted to ao3 on my pseud there.

Every spider-person has their own canon event (or sequence of them) that they have in common, but another similarity between most of them is their sense of humor, the ability to fire off a quip at the same speed it takes them to spin a web. It helps stave off the fear; enough bravado and you start to believe in your own confidence, that you’re not fighting against forces that could easily smear you off the face of the earth. Sometimes the jokes aren’t enough: sometimes the threat is so severe that the ability to summon any jocularity or wit vanishes entirely.

Since you joined the Spider-Society (one of the first recruits, you're proud to note), you've seen more than one of your fellow vigilantes sent to the medbay after a knock out, drag down fight with an anomaly. Ben was there for almost a week after pissing off the wrong Hobgoblin.

Today, you'd been tasked with helping Miguel, Kaine and Peter B with seeking out a displaced Kraven the Hunter and the results weren't exactly pretty. Most of you'd wound up briefly visiting the medbay (except Miguel, because of course he was willing to blow off his own injuries), with the exception of Kaine who'd been ordered to stay overnight for Lyla to keep an eye on him.

Once you’re officially cleared with a clean bill of health and wish Peter B farewell – the air crackling and thrumming around you both as you trade a hug, him having already opened a portal to home – you make your way to Miguel’s lab.

Compared to the rest of HQ, the lab offers something seldom found elsewhere on Earth-928B: the illusion of peace and quiet. It’s dark compared to the rest of the building to accommodate Miguel's light sensitivity, and it’s chillier here too, making it one of your favorite places to spend your free time. The fact that Miguel’s also there just happens to be a bonus, and since he hasn’t thrown you out yet, you’d like to think that he does more than tolerate your presence – that maybe, just maybe, he might even see you as a friend.

He doesn’t have enough of those, not here. You know that he has a brother, who had been this world’s Goblin and that he’d died sometime before Miguel had saved you from imminent death when he showed up in your universe to recruit you, but outside of that, you don’t know much at all about what Miguel’s life was like before the Collider incident, before he’d gone on that fateful journey through the multiverse, before his daughter –

As you step further into the laboratory, you see her face now: another video, recorded by Lyla, plays of her and Miguel on a loop on one of the many, many screens that encircle the platform that Miguel tends to hide away on, hunkering down for days at a time to observe the web of universes, on the off chance that one might snap and the whole thing fall apart again.

In the video, you can make out Gabriella laughing and running away from Miguel, who chases her, pretending to growl menacingly even though he’s grinning so much that the twinkle in his eyes are visible through the screen; he eventually catches her around the waist, spinning them both around as peels of laughter filter softly through the speakers, an echo of another life - another universe - that Miguel can’t ever touch again filling up the room.

“Lyla, shut it off.”

The soft glow of the video vanishes, taking with it the comforting orange glow and laughter, and filling the space with even more shadows and gloom. Distantly, you can hear Lyla trying to coax Miguel into something, which he doesn’t initially respond well to until she scolds him so thoroughly that you can make out a chastised Miguel conceding, “Fine”, and with a whir, the platform slowly begins to lower itself.

In the next second, Lyla appears in front of you, glitching out briefly before gaining a stronger connection. “He needed to stay in the medbay, but he’s insistent on doing things himself, so if you could do something about that, babydoll, I’d appreciate it!” With a wink, she vanishes again, and you blink to get rid of the afterimage of her fur coat and heart shaped sunglasses.

When the platform touches ground, you finally get a glimpse at the man himself: he’s slouched in a rolly chair that neither looks comfortable or like it should be able to hold his weight, and the accents of red on his suit look darker than they should: he’d taken more of a hit than he’d let on (another constant between Spiders, but outside of Peter Parkers, few were as obstinate about accepting help as Miguel was).

“Did Lyla go get you?” Miguel asks as you approach. His eyes aren’t open, but you know his senses are heightened - even more so than yours, what with his dna having so much spider in it - enough that he’d be able to keep track of you even with them shut. It’s uncanny and sometimes unnerving, knowing he can do things like hear your heartbeat, but it’s probably the easiest thing to accept of the turn your life has taken since the concept of multiversal travel entered it.

“Believe it or not, I actually have a vested interest in whether or not you come home in one piece, O’Hara,” you tell him, stepping in front of him and surveying the damage - it’s hard to tell, when his suit is holographic but the illusion of fabric is a good one: it automatically shifts the shade of colors to adapt to injuries on his person, even if the suit never adjusts to include actual tears.

“Why’s that?” Miguel asks, obliging you as you tilt his head back, searching his face for cuts and bruises, even as he points out, “If you’re looking for signs of a concussion, you could’ve just asked if I hit my head.”

“Right, because you’ve got such a long history of informing people of your injuries, I forgot,” you reply dully, flicking him in the sternum with your finger. “And I came here because you’re my friend, dunno how many times I’m going to have to tell you that before you get it through your thick skull.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, watches you as you go and grab a first aid kit from elsewhere in the room and as you return, the faint blue light from the ceiling far, far above you both turns your suit a deeper tone of purple. Once you step in between his legs and affix him with a pointed stare, Miguel exhales in capitulation, and a second later the top half of his suit flickers out of existence, revealing a gash in his side.

“And you didn’t have this looked at in the medbay because…?” you demand, looking considerably more ill at the sight of his blood, although you quickly get to work in cracking open the medkit and selecting the supplies you need.

“Ben and Peter B needed the resources. I didn’t, as evidenced by the fact that you’re using – what the shock is Neosporin?”

“It’s a miracle worker is what it is, especially when you’re a kid who has a bad habit of skinning up her knees,” you answer, slathering the now clean injury up with the medicine. It feels like the medical equivalent of splashing a cup of water onto a blazing inferno, but you know from experience that it helps until the accelerated healing can take effect and do the rest of the job for it.

Miguel grunts at that but doesn’t say more, letting you work in silence until you pull out some gauze to wrap him up with and he finally says, “I don’t make it easy.”

“Patching you up? I’ve noticed.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I meant – you said I’m your friend. I don’t make that easy, so - why.”

You straighten back up, assessing your work for a moment before looking up at Miguel; it’s not tidy by any means, but it’ll keep him from bleeding anymore until he can start healing on his own. Judging from the look of bafflement in his crimson eyes, you know that he wants something concise and logical, that he won’t accept any other kind of explanation for why you might possibly want to spend any amount of time with him, let alone consider him a friend.

(You decide to spare him from the knowledge that he’s probably the closest friend you have in the Spider Society, if just knowing you consider him one at all is enough to throw him for a loop.)

And with that in mind, you remain quiet for a minute, mulling over how best to answer him and summoning the words to do so. “You’re direct. I know when I’m talking to you, you’re never going to bullshit me on something, and I –” you scoff, lowering your gaze from his heavy, inquisitive one - ��I’ve dealt with enough people bullshitting me, making me think…think I mattered more to them than I did, or making me question everything because they didn’t want to own up to something or - or they just didn’t want to tell me the truth.”

You never had to doubt with Miguel. Maybe you weren’t sure of how far his presumed affection for you ran, but you knew that he liked having you around. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have put up with you chilling in his laboratory and catching up on your reading while he worked, nor would he have allowed you to help him now. That was more certainty than you’d had in a long time when it came to your social circle, or what remained of it.

“Most people here say that’s what makes me a jackass,” Miguel points out dryly, but when you glance back up at him, his mouth has twitched into the ghost of a smile. “And it usually deters them from sticking around.”

“I’m not most people, and we both know you deter them on purpose.”

His mouth twinges up even further, revealing one of his canines. “How else am I supposed to keep this lab quiet?”

You can’t help but laugh outright at that, the sound bouncing off the walls and echoing throughout the voluminous space. “Too bad it doesn’t have any effect on me.”

“You’re not noisy - and even when you are, I don’t - it’s not -” Miguel briefly raises one hand helplessly, before finally getting out - “the noise isn’t bad when it's from…from a friend.”

You don’t throw your arms around him in a bear hug like you want, because you know he likes his personal space, but you do beam at him and squeeze his hand with yours.

Miguel O’Hara doesn’t have many friends, outside of Lyla and Peter B and Jessica, and from what you know of his past, you don’t blame him – better than anyone, you understand, you really do. The fact that he counts you as a friend, as someone he can rely on, is overwhelming.

Perhaps more than you realized, because Miguel reaches up suddenly and gently – always so conscious of his talons – wipes away a stray tear from the corner of your eye. “You alright?”

You nod a couple times. “Yeah, just - not used to hearing that, anymore.”

Miguel hums, the noise rumbling with its disapproval, but he doesn’t say more on the matter, just jerks his head in the direction of his screens and says, like he’s pulling teeth, “Could use some help here, if you’re up for it.”

You know he’s only asking for help to give you a distraction, but that small sacrifice has something warm blooming in your chest, that he’d swallow his pride to help you. ”Yeah, I’m up for it. You got any popcorn?”

The side-eye you get tells you all you need to know, but within an hour, you’ve got a bucket of it from the cafeteria plopped between the both of you as you watch, and you can only hope that your presence takes some of the burden off Miguel’s shoulders, in the way that being near him has that yawning mouth of raw wanting and loneliness inside you dulling into an almost bearable white noise.

You think, when he smiles for a third time at one of your anecdotes, that it just might.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #myfic #reader fic

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dailydragon08 · 2 years ago

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The Right Moment

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader Summary: You and Luke try to improve your track record with cliffs--and he has a not-so-little surprise in store for you. Warnings: none, other than maybe a steamy makeout session and tooth-rotting fluff. A/N: "Remnants" is a series of one shots in no particular order about the budding relationship between you and Luke as he trains you in the ways of the Force. Also windswept Luke is so adorable I can’t get over it (please tell me I’m not the only one).

***

You tugged Luke’s hand as you climbed the crudely made mountain path to what was now one of your favorite spots on Ahch-To. You’d discovered it while exploring the other day as Leia, Han, Chewie, and the others finished getting all the information they could from the abandoned imperial base. Luke had been meditating and you didn’t want to disturb him, so went off on your own and found the most peaceful spot with the best view.

“Are you sure about this?” Luke asked as he trailed behind you. “We don’t have the best history with cliffs, you know.”

“I know, but I wanted to change that—and you’ll love this view, I promise.”

You felt him squeeze in close behind you as the path narrowed. “I like my current view just fine.”

You turned to give him a fond eye roll and shake of your head as he grinned. You suddenly gasped as you stumbled slightly and may have even plummeted down the rockface if it weren’t for Luke’s strong hands steadying your waist.

“Careful, starflower.” He chuckled. “See? Terrible track record.”

“Well, it’s your fault,” you grumbled, taking his hand and resuming your trek with your eyes now firmly focused on your feet.

He laughed and his voice rose an octave. “What? How is it my fault?”

“Well, if you weren’t so hot, I wouldn’t have gotten distracted!”

“Oh, look who’s talking.”

You chuckled as you reached the landing you’d spent so much time on earlier. The vast ocean waves crashed against the mountain below, their gentle thundering relaxing your mind. You glanced up as a bird took flight from a nest in a ledge above you, its babies following awkwardly behind it. You breathed deeply and smiled at their cute, fuzzy bodies doing their best to stay afloat on the wind.

You turned to see Luke staring out over the waters, completely mesmerized, but found you liked this view even better. As the sun began its descent, it cast everything aglow and he looked almost God-like in the golden light, his blue eyes bright and soft hair blowing in the wind. He took a few steps in front of you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. He’d forgone his jacket and was just in a simple black shirt and you couldn’t help but admire the strong curve of his back through the fabric. He inhaled deeply before blowing it all out in a calming exhale and you could tell he needed this just as much as you. With the empire nearly gone and the New Republic ready and waiting in the wings, you were all so close to your goal, but now deeply felt your exhaustion.

The wind picked up and you dropped Luke’s hand to gather your hair behind you. Before you could slide the hair tie off your wrist, however, he turned to you and gently grabbed your wrists. “No, keep it down. It’s pretty.”

You laughed. “It’s going everywhere and is probably a mess.”

He moved to stand directly in front of you so both your sides were facing the ocean and smiled softly, gently moving some hair away from your neck and tucking it behind your ear. “No, it’s beautiful…like the rest of you.”

You stared at him for a moment, sure the love in your eyes was mirroring his own. You took a step closer and pressed your chest flush against his as his arms wrapped around your waist. You let yours slowly slide up his chest to rest on his shoulders and couldn’t help but just stare. You’d brought him up here to admire the scenery of Ahch-To, but now it felt more like a backdrop for him. His eyes looked especially blue in the setting sun’s light, and you marveled at the way his golden hair danced across his forehead.

Your eyes followed your fingers as they weaved into the hair at the nape of his neck before meeting his eyes again. Your face fell as you noticed the intensity of his gaze and the tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head and laughed as you gently wiped a tear away. “Nothing, you just…you look so beautiful. I love you so much.”

You struggled to hold back your own water works. “I love you too, handsome.”

“I mean it, you look…” he paused and let out a shuddery breath. “Maker, you don’t even look real.”

You beamed, laughing softly and cradling his face in your hands. You tilted your forehead against his and he sighed, holding you even tighter as his cybernetic weaved into your hair. He’d forgone the glove like he always did when it was just the two of you, and gently stroked your jaw with his thumb. He planted a soft, but passionate kiss to your lips, lingering against you and sighing into your mouth.

There was silence for a moment after you broke away. You let yourself sink deep into the Force and enjoyed the feeling of him around you and could feel him doing the same. “You really do look…just…in this lighting…”

You opened your eyes and pulled back to look at him, tracing the curve of his neck with your fingers. “Look what?”

He shook his head, at a loss for words for a moment. “Ethereal.”

You blinked and bit your lip, your cheeks now sore from how much you were smiling. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

His thumb traced a path under your eye to gently flick your earlobe. “I’m not trying to. I just…We’ve all been so busy and things have been so dangerous the last few years. Just knowing it’s finally coming to a close is…” he laughed, “inspiring me, I guess.”

You couldn’t resist kissing him again. “It’s been a lot. But…I’m glad I did it all with you.”

“I’m so glad you’ve been here. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

You stared at him for a moment, committing the sky blue of his eyes to memory before laying your head against his chest and watching the sun sink even further below the horizon. He kissed your forehead before pressing his cheek to your hair, his hands moving to smooth up and down your sides and back.

After several minutes—you weren’t sure how long—of silence, you finally said, “Is this easing your fear of cliffs?”

He laughed. “I don’t have a fear of cliffs. We just seem to always get in trouble on them.”

You hummed as you nuzzled into his neck. “I’ll try not to fall off this one.”

He snorted. “Don’t jinx us.”

You tilted your head up to look at him and he met your gaze, a smile gracing his face as his eyes held you softly. He seemed to have a talent for holding you in his eyes—something you’d never experienced with a lover before, and you would forever cherish it. You tangled your fingers in his hair again and kissed him, reveling in the feel of him squeezing you tightly and returning the gesture with enthusiasm. You doubted you’d ever tire of his taste, his smell, or the feel of him both under your fingers and through the Force. After three blissful years, he felt like a part of you and had admitted on several occasions that he felt the same about you. You tried your best to convey that with your body as his lips slid in perfect synchrony with yours. You gently reached out through the Force and could feel his love flow back to you, along with a sudden nervousness that perplexed you.

Your lungs finally burned enough to force you to break for air. He panted a bit with you and laughed breathlessly. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” you replied, just as out of breath. “I just wanna kiss you forever.”

He held your gaze for a moment and your heart skipped a beat at the blush that suddenly bloomed up his neck and the tips of his ears. “You could…if you wanted to.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly in your confusion. “Kiss you? I thought that’s what I was doing.”

“No, I mean…” he took a deep breath, “the forever part.” Before you could formulate a response, he continued, suddenly shy. “You’ve made my life incredible and I’m so glad I found another Jedi—and that Jedi was you. You’re so…” he stuttered an inhale again, his eyes glassy, “brave and selfless and kind and just…you have the most wonderful soul, wrapped in the most beautiful person in the entire galaxy.”

You didn’t bother to hold back the sudden flow of emotion from the Force. “Luke…”

“I…” he glanced behind him and stepped out from the circle of your arms. “I didn’t really have a plan fully formed yet and I hope this is all right, but…this just feels like the right moment.”

You frowned. “For what—” You felt your eyes nearly bug out of your head as he got down on one knee, pulling a small box out of his pocket. Your hand that wasn’t clasped in his flew to your mouth of its own accord. “Kriff, Maker, Luke.”

He gently flicked the lid open to reveal a simple, elegant, and timeless band with three stones in the middle: a circular centerpiece with two smaller stones bordering it, all your favorite color.

You were already nodding before he could even say anything and he emitted a watery laugh. “Will you marry me?”

“YES!” You crashed against his chest, sending you both tumbling to the ground.

He held you tightly and laughed, and you could feel his elation through the Force. “Yes?”

“Yes,” you repeated, pulling back and kissing him hard.

The beam that overtook his face would’ve been enough to make anyone giddy—and knowing it was now all yours, forever, made your stomach somersault in a way that jerked tears from your eyes. He carefully sat you both upright and took the ring from the box, tenderly sliding it on your left ring finger and letting out a relieved breath. “Perfect fit.” He reached up to wipe a few of your tears away with his thumb. “Do you like it?”

You nodded. “It’s perfect. Where did you even find this?”

“Do you remember when we went to Naboo and the Naberries gave Leia our mother’s wardrobe? This was one of her rings. She couldn’t wear it since their marriage had to stay a secret, but my father bought it for her for their wedding ceremony.”

Your heart swelled. “Are you sure you want me to have it? Leia’s okay with this?”

He nodded. “She even helped me pick it out.”

Your mind flashed back to your most recent Naboo excursion. “Wait, when she very loudly said the ring didn’t fit her, shoved it on my hand, and yelled out the size—”

Luke chuckled. “We may have been conspiring.”

You laughed and shook your head, sniffling as you admired how the last rays of sun reflected off his cheekbones. “I love you so much.”

He rested a hand on the small of your back as the other cupped your cheek. “I love you, too.” He laughed. “And I can’t wait to marry you.”

You buried your face in his shoulder as he squeezed you tightly. You would’ve been content to hold him forever, but darkness was beginning to settle over the planet and traveling the already hazardous footpath in the dark probably wasn’t the best idea. “So does this mean you like cliffs better now?”

He laughed, giving you a gentle pat on the butt like he always did when it was time to extract yourself from his lap. The pair of you helped each other stand and he placed one final kiss on your lips. “Yes, this definitely helps the track record—but we should head back before something happens, just in case. Plus, Leia’s going to be thrilled.”

#luke skywalker #star wars #luke skywalker x reader #star wars x reader #luke skywalker imagine #star wars imagine #luke skywalker fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #luke skywalker fluff #luke skywalker x fem!reader #luke skywalker x jedi!reader #star wars remnants #my writing

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raedroid · 4 days ago

Text

The Star Covers Immortals

Chapter 1: Into the Void Part 2

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The aftermath of their encounter with Domino was abysmal to say the least. All of the girls laid in the water, teal and shimmering, feeling more defeated than before. Katherine especially felt distressed as the girls rose to their feet, some of whom were exhausted and physically hurt from the actions of the red haired destroyer. Katherine felt more upset as she saw her friends struggle to move as their clothes were wet from the water and the effects of the destruction of their talentments were setting in. The pain in their hearts was very faint but it would jolt like a static shock, making them jump a little each time.

“You guys alright?” Brittany asked, looking around their landing area. It was a dimly lit maze of sewers, the shimmering teal water flowing throughout the hallways. The walls had small green and teal heart shaped lanterns, attached to the tall dark gray walls, adorning small cracks throughout, and even small sprays of rainbow graffiti and markings all along it, weird phrases and slangs and images of Namnos rulers and politicians, with nasty messages attached to them. As the girls got up from the sticky waves, Veena looked up at the hole in the ceiling, the barrage of boulders covering it, barely letting light in

“Well, we’re not getting out that way.” She muttered annoyed. “Come on, let’s try to get out of here.” They started wandering through the long hallways of the sewer system, dragging their feet through the teal waters, the soggy feeling becoming more and more uncomfortable in their shoes. Each place they went to was all a dead end and was looking hopeless. The girls looked around their surroundings, in order to find any path they haven’t explored yet. However, Katherine threw her hands up in the air.

“Man, The Eldress is gonna be pissed with us when we get outta here!” She shouted

“I think we have other things to worry about!” Kelsey groaned. “Right now, my boots are soggy, I might have a concussion, we lost our Talentments, the most powerful relics in Starterian history, and we are on the most wanted list in Namnos and it’s only been 30 minutes since we got here!”

“That’s a new record for us!” Bella exclaimed happily. As soon as she saw their blank expressions, she looked down. “And it’s awful, definitely awful.”

“No wonder Kiss constantly plans our funerals everytime we go outside.” Jenna pondered. Emma, who stood next to her, started to smells strange odour

“Hey, I smell something burning.” Emma started walking down the hallway and the girls looked on, feeling concern about the possibility of danger in these circumstances

“What if there’s a murderer down there?” Hailey asked

“It’ll just be a typical Tuesday! Come down here already!” Emma called back and they walked down to follow her, feeling dread as they ventured through the dimly lit hallways

“Hopefully we don’t die in here.” Jenna muttered to the others. They stopped once they looked up and gazed at two large metal doors, highly decorated with gold accents and swirls and deep green gemstones. Creeping through the cracks was a faint teal light and a simple but tranquil melody echoed through, piquing the girls interest almost instantly. Sara stepped forward and slowly pushed open the doors, struggling due to the loss of her powers. The melody grew louder as they make their entrance inside this strange room

Inside were massive stone pillars, with intricate carvings of ancient figures on the wall, almost telling a story with each pillar they pass. The room glowed in a similar manner as the hallways outside with its lanterns, but it also had large torch stands, burning massive emerald flames. At the very centre of the room was a large alter, showing illustrations of 18 women in colour silhouettes, stars and lights illuminating each one, resembling a galaxy. The girls were amazed by the craftsmanship of the area and all of its details but their wandering was interrupted by the sound of humming on the other side of the alter.

They looked and saw a much older man standing by a podium, also adorned with gold accents and green gemstones, the top board had several black pieces laying on top, small yellow sparks were visible from each part. They recognized that it was their Talentments on the table. They watched the man slowly create a magic strand of light that began to circle the pieces, making a small orb of light.

“Talentments, bringer of power and light of the soul, awaken!” The man chanted, enhancing the light of the orb before gently fading away, revealing a microphone shaped Talentment. Anna gasped at the sight of her newly restored Talentment, catching the attention of the man. He leaned over and saw Anna staring intently at her source of power.

“You? What are you doing here? I don’t remember inviting you here!” He shouted surprised. But soon, he noticed the rest of the girls behind the ancient altar, granting them a good look at him. He wore a royal purple robe with a large lapis chest piece over top, adorned with mint lettering and trims. Just like Taj, he had green skin and gold eyes, which gazed the girls in utter disbelief

“It’s… it’s you!” He gulped

“Yeah us. What about it?” Kelsey asked nonchalantly

“You have finally come to Namnos! The legends were true!” He exclaimed and the girls looked on bewildered at his statement. “I am Ziro, a psyche to the dimension of Namnos and I am honoured to be in your presence.” He bowed before them, receiving more confused faces from the group.

“Ok ok dude that’s enough.” Lexy laughed nervously. “Please I’m begging you.”

“Oh. My apologies.” He answered, getting up to dust himself off. “But I am beyond grateful to meet you, heroes of Namnos.”

“Wait. Why are you calling us heroes of Namnos? The only thing we’ve done since we got here is piss people off.” Richelle asked

“Again new record for us.” Bella added

“You are the girls who are one, ancient demigods who have come to save our home from great destruction. And you have arrived at a good time. I noticed that the Destroyers have broke your Talentments and I have restored your Talentments back to their original state. And now, you have the magic to defeat our greatest enemy, as described in the prophecy.”

“The prophecy? There’s another one?” Keira asked, her voice hinting fear

“The prophecy describes the 18 powerful guardians who will come to Namnos to defeat the cruel emperor Tempest, an ancient being of destruction and creation. His origins are unknown to the people of Namnos and those who did knew have long since passed away. He rules the land with an iron fist and has seized communication between all of the supreme dimensions for many centuries. The first girls who are one tried to stop him a million years ago but were killed at the last second and since then, no one has been able to defeat him.”

“So wait, if we’re demigods, then why is our temple in a stinking sewer?” Veena asked annoyed

“Look I’m on a budget ok? It’s hard to establish a temple up there! Do you know how much money it cost to buy a temple?! 12’000 Novas!”

“How much is that in Canadian money?”

“I don’t know like 120 000?”

“Oh shit”

“And even if it weren’t expensive, you must understand that due to his long history with the previous guardians, Tempest has made it forbidden to worship your images.”

“Damn he will not like earth at all!” The girls were surprised, feeling the urgency in his voice and the look of hope in his eyes, they had to make the ultimate decision that could change history for the better or worse.

“I understand if this is a lot for you to process. I’ll leave you alone for a bit.” He slowly turned and walked off towards the large doorway, leaving the girls to ponder

“Listen, I don’t know about this. How do we know we can trust him?” Katherine asked concerned, Anna and Keira nodding in agreement

“That’s a good point but we don’t know anything about this world. It sounds like the only way to get home is to help these people.” Megan pointed out

“Yeah but if we stay here, those destroyers will kill us.” Hailey argued. “We can’t risk Starteria losing its powerful Talentments! The Eldress will have a stroke!”

“But if Namnos goes up in flames, they’ll need someone to help them. And we can’t risk an entire dimension getting destroyed, even if we lose our lives in the process.” Sara added.

“Ok how about this? This guy will give us our Talentments back and in all honesty, that doesn’t happen often. If he understood how important these things are to us, then surely he knows that this place needs help. This danger is not something to sneeze at. We gotta do something about it. The least we can do is help them if he is willing to rebuild them for us.” Tanya’s words resonated with them. The ones who questioned the state of the world started to agree and slowly nodded in response.

Although Katherine felt happy with the decision being made, there was a feeling of dread hidden deep down inside, fearing for any possible consequences they would face, both physically and mentally. She feared that her friends would struggle again and face extreme pain, stress and mental distress. Her mind was unsure whether or not she should face this new challenge alone and find a way to get her friends back home. Or at least keep them as far away from the danger as possible

“Yo Ziro! We’ll whoop Tempest’s ass!” Cassie called out. Ziro peeked out from the behind the corner and joined them, his face beaming in delight

“I see. I truly believe that this is the hope Namnos has been missing for years now. This may turn things around completely. Now, if you wish to follow your destiny, I shall return your powers.” He turned to the podium, all 18 of the Talentments were shining brighter than ever, magic radiating from it. The devices were no longer black, sporting each of their individual colours, the colours of their guardian souls. Each of the girls took ahold of their own Talentments, their colourful auras started to glow around them, granting them their powers once more. They looked at one another as they glowed, embracing their gifts and their mission to save the world

“Since that’s all done, what’s next?” Brittany questioned.

“Now you must hear the rest of the prophecy. But first let’s get you out of these sewers.” Ziro answered, leading them out of the ancient room. Katherine looked at the energy shimmering in her hands and stared at it, concern and guilt entering her veins. But she closed her fists, hiding her inner thoughts as she always did, hoping her friends won’t notice it.

——————————————————————————

Through the soggy but shimmering water of the sewer system, Ziro went down all of the problems and issues that the dimension had faced such as false imprisonment over music, and the execution of those who spoke ill of the Destroyers. Many civilizations across the world have been threatened and their people have been killed or captured by them in order to keep Tempests image perfect and flawless. The bizarre laws started to change their approach on the matter with how much devastation has been occurring lately.

“The prophecy described that the girls will arrive in Namnos in order to battle the force of Tempest and music is the key, which is why Tempest and the Destroyers had banned music completely.” Ziro explained

“And Domino, she works for Tempest now? She used to work for the Dark Clipse a while ago.” Lina questioned

“She reports to Lorkell, the emperors right hand man. But yes to answer your question. She is one of the 8 Supreme Destroyers, the highest ranking members that work closely with the emperor. The others are Alferon, Raff, Camilla, Liston, Lunara, Earl, and of course Lorkell.”

“Alright so that’s our plan. Kick their asses, stop the emperor, free music, connect with the other dimensions and then go home. Got it.” Bella responded, letting all of the information sink in

“However, I must warn you that the girls will have visions that will lead them to blackness. They are unlike most visions that Guardians receive. They will alter your senses and visions completely and at the most unpredictable times. But as long as you act as one, the visions will slowly fade away.”

“Ok well that shouldn’t be a problem.” Lexy remarked, before noticing small rays of light sneaking through the grate above her. Lifting her hands, she used her non-topic ability to move the rusty metal grate, granting her friends access to escape, each of them using their powers to fly out of the hole. As they each climbed out, the curious and horrified faces of the citizens around the area grew, some even running away in fear

“Oh right, they think we’re criminals now.” Lina muttered under her breath. Ziro slowly climbed up to the grate and poked his head out to speak closer to them.

“Now, if you want to stop Tempest, you must travel across the wastelands to get to his palace. There are many challenges across that area that you will need to overcome so I recommend you please be prepared.” He warned. “Additionally, be wary of the Fall’s Tower, located at the centre of the Wastelands. It’s an area full of dangerous and harmful energy sources that could cause serious damage to you if you come closer.”

“Thanks for the heads up. We’ll keep that in mind.” Keira answered politely.

“If you need any assistance, please contact me on your StarPhone.” He added

“But we don’t have your contact?” Veena questioned. Ziro got down and pulled out his HeartPhone, a royal purple light of the screen illuminates his face as he sends a message to their StarPhone. They were surprised by how fast and efficient the technology is in the Dimensions, as it is more advanced as their own devices.

“Now goodbye to all of you. Until you need me for anything that is. It has been a blessing to serve you.” He replied, nodding towards them. He landed back into the water and turned to return to his post

“Ok so. I guess we get to the palace.” Katherine began but saw Kelsey staring down at her feet

“Do we really want to go running into the wastelands? My boots are already ruined.” She asked

“All of our boots are ruined. You’re not the only one.” Tanya remarked, causing Kelsey to roll her eyes. “But yeah we’re not in the best shoes for walking through a massive desert.”

“Well they don’t have to be.” A voice interrupted their thoughts and they turned to see who the familiar voice was. It was Taj, standing with a large bag strapped across his back. He had a cheeky smirk on his face as he leaned on the nearest wall

“Oh Taj! I thought your mom got mad at you?” Maya greeted

“He can’t watch me every second.” He answered. Anna gave him a smirk, taking amusement out of his tone

“You remind me of a younger me buddy. But what did you just say about our shoes?” Anna responded.

“Well I know a much more shorter way to get across the Wastelands. You don’t have to go trekking to the palace on foot.” He informed, intriguing the girls immensely. Although they didn’t know what he is capable of, or the full extent of their enemies powers, they knew it was time to take action. And a few risks

“Well then, what are we waiting for?”

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Tagging: @doodleborg @gh0stfl0ra @criminallyoverrated @peanutbutter-doodles @elrohare @whysodelirious08 @starry-eyed-never-satisfied @shandidellamorte @insanityisdivine @spacedoutman

#kiss band #the star covers #the star covers immortals #writerscorner #kissblr

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anal0gue · 18 days ago

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a day in the life: YUNGBLUD at AIR Studios

a little something for those who want some of the older style sound engineering content :)

It isn’t all Decca trees and film scores at AIR Studios. This iconic Hampstead studio - founded by Sir George Martin in 1991, has hosted a whole host of artists and composers over the years. Although you likely will have seen shots of The Hall brimming with endless numbers of rather focussed looking string players, making light work of the latest Hollywood film score, you wouldn’t be blamed for being surprised that bands such as Muse, Coldplay, U2 and Red Hot Chilli Peppers have also followed in the same path at the legendary AIR Lyndhurst studios. So when one of the most highly rated upcoming UK artists - YUNGBLUD showed up to shoot his latest video for Coke Studio, it was time to wheel away the Decca tree and turn down the lights for something a little edgier than normal. To say the least. Here’s how the day unfolded.

7:30am:

As with any visit to AIR, the day starts with a reassuring warm greeting from the studio’s friendly reception team. Not a bad way to start the day. Even if it is 7:30.

A short walk down the freshly painted corridor and we are at the control room door to Studio 1. You’d be forgiven for thinking that Studio 1 is the largest space at the complex, but it isn’t. The Hall is the largest of several rooms, whilst Studio 1 is its smaller but equally fun space. Bright sunlight pours through the live room - something that is almost unheard of in the many dinghy, underground studios across the capital. Plenty of players love this room for that reason, amongst many others.

The live room is already packed with microphones that look a little lonely out there without the musicians present. The studio staff have been undoubtedly busy the day before setting up the room to the spec of today’s engineer Gianaluca Massimo. There’s every flavour of microphone under the sun - from a lovely looking R44, to a row of precisely lined up MKH40s for the string players. They don’t mess around here.

The studio is completely silent - nobody else has arrived yet, so I start off with some morning assistant duties: turning on the lights, powering up any displays, putting away any evidence of the previous day’s session and stocking the control room up on water and stationary. As a freelance assistant, you get to know the start-up procedures and quirks of so many studios, but it comes flooding back as soon as you step in the door.

8:00am:

The silence never lasts long. Gian and Jed arrive, who both work in-house at AIR. Jed will be operating Pro Tools and as with any recordist - naturally putting his hand to whatever needs to be done in between. In pours several of the production team, whose names I pretend I hadn’t instantly forgotten, when I shortly offer them a drink to kick off the morning. Hospitality is unbelievably important in any establishment of this level. The assistant is key in delivering this, not only to the clients, but also to whoever is engineering or operating Pro Tools. Gotta keep them sweet.

I take a short walk upstairs, naturally bumping into a handful of the regular session musicians who are next door in The Hall, recording a film score. In the midst of getting the latest dose of studio gossip from them, It’s easy to forget what exactly you came upstairs for

Whilst I make a ridiculous looking tray full of every type of tea imaginable, the canteen staff put the final touches to a mocha - a dusting of cocoa powder in the shape of the AIR logo. The clients love this one. It’s the little things that make all the difference.

I precariously tip-toe down the seemingly endless stairs, a string player holds the door open for me and I make my way back to the control room. Dishing out each drink, I pull off remembering who ordered which drink. Probably thanks to my overly detailed iPhone notes, which are full of random drinks orders from sessions past.

Everyone’s happy and we can get on with something a bit more…technical.

8:30am

Standing awkwardly amongst the crowd of production crew, precarious looking lighting rigs and of course - microphones, Gian tells me what still needs to be done before we hit record. No matter how well you prepare the day before, there’s always a few loose ends to tie up. You wouldn’t believe the amount of little bits and bobs that need to be carefully set up and checked for a recording to go smoothly. In a world-class studio, it’s always expected to run without or with very few snags. It’s a military operation.

I armed myself with some tape and a sharpie (classic assistant must-haves) from the drawer with G.O.S. kit written on it, which I found out after several sessions at AIR comically means ‘get out of s***t kit. Despite working super hard, the in-house staff at AIR have a great sense of humour, which is evident from little moments like this.

The personal headphone mixers need labelling, so I weave between the sandbags and microphone stands to put the labels on. The headphone mixers allow musicians to create their own monitor mix, and these are a great addition to any studio in my opinion. I also swap a few microphones out and add a few extras, as per Gian’s instructions. I nip round and check all the valve microphones are still powered up and sure enough, there’s a little red light glowing on each and every power supply.

Jed arms the tracks and we do a quick scratch round. This consists of delicately scratching the grill on each microphone, to check the signal is reaching the rig and monitoring in the control room in the way it should be. Each microphone has a different texture and shaped grill so over the years, you learn what the most consistent way of scratching them is. You want a nice consistent scratch to allow the engineer to even out any level differences between microphones.

Sometimes you get a full house. Not today. Scratching the left hand piano mic, I peer over the lid to see some shaking heads and frowning faces, followed by a barely intelligible ‘keep going’ over the SLS (studio loudspeaker - they always sound nasty…). As amazing sounding as these vintage Neve consoles are, don’t be surprised if you fall victim during the scratch, despite the unwavering efforts of the technical staff. I can just about see Gian repeatedly bashing a button on the console, probably an insert. “Come on”, I think, still scratching the grill of the microphone whilst my bicep suffers. The frowns turn to smiles and I can relax a little more knowing that I don’t have to swap out a valve mic…just yet anyway.

10am

All is calm in the control room. The clients are either sipping their drinks, furiously tapping away at their MacBooks or admiring the gorgeous Neve console that rightly sits centre stage. There’s about time to nip out for a smoke or take a final gasp of fresh air before the Marshall stacks buzz to life and Dom (AKA YUNGBLUD) puts down a ripping vocal. I love the calm before the storm. It really is the perfect metaphor for how it feels. Regardless of if it’s a 60 piece orchestra or a three piece band, the stakes are always high and quite rightly at such an iconic establishment.

11am

The film crew look set to go, as musicians holding all shapes and sizes of instrument cases filter through the wedged-open double doors into Studio 1. I stay in the live room to help with any requests or questions from the musicians, as there is inevitably something to sort out. Asking the brass players to hold up (their instruments), I slap the FET 47s in front of each, in a way I’ve seen my favourite engineers do and hope for the best. It’s funny how you doubt yourself even know you’ve done it a thousand times before. I show the vocalists and some of the band how to use the Avioms and make a last whip round the room before I close the oak clad studio doors and head to the buzzing control room.

Inside, I find Dom and the rest of his band have arrived in my absence and he enthusiastically greets us all. I instantly think, what a legend. He’s full of energy and humour, and I find myself pretending not to be slightly starstruck, as my mind flies through the sweet collaborations he has done with Bring Me The Horizon and Machine Gun Kelly, not to mention his catalogue of killer albums. He takes a moment to express how excited he is to be here, transfixed by the huge Neve and crowd of musicians congregating in the live room. I believe every word.

The tracks go back onto input as Dom skips into the live room, shortly followed by Miles Kane too who would be making an appearance. The control room springs to life as the huge monitors offer us a nice polished replication of what is going on in the live room. It’s always a sort of chaos when you first go on input. From a quiet control room, to a strange mix of of musicians tuning their instruments and conversations that you probably shouldn’t be overhearing. Jed sends out an A - 440Hz pumped through every set of DT102s for the musicians to tune up to. On a typical session, this happens on dot of the official session start, but not today. We’re going rock n roll today.

11:30am

There’s always a sense of feeling like you’ve got away with it, when the first take goes down and the microphones and signals have survived the ordeal. There’s a nod between the studio staff as we all confirm that everything is working as it should be. Gian solos a few mics after the take - you can’t do it during the recording in this room as the console is split and the other microphones would be cut if you soloed a channel. This still makes me laugh after a long time of working on the more modern in-line consoles such as the 88r. We are good to go and everyone is looking happy in the live room. Gian checks with everybody that they are getting what they want in the headphones - never to be overlooked. Again, all smiles and nods and we go for another. The click track’s VU meter rhythmically springs to life and 2 bars later, both rooms are filled with YUNGBLUD et al., at their finest.

Gian slides between the console and the outboard rack, tweaking levels across his chosen arsenal. It sounds great off the bat, but it doesn’t take long for the sound to feel like its been mixed already as he fiddles with everything from the classic 1176s to his trusty Pultec EQs.

Much like Gian, the camera operator impressively slides around the room, making an imperceivable amount of noise and capturing the whole performance in one shot. Dom skilfully plays with the audience, leaning into the camera whilst putting down an impressive vocal performance with his signature, enchanting attitude. I occasionally look up to see the camera feed on a small monitor in the control room. Although it’s small, you can see already how amazing the finished product will be. Everything is like a hyperreal version of itself - the live room looks otherworldly with the impressive lighting that was painstakingly put up a few hours ago and the audio sounds like a glossy finished product already. All testament to the hard work and experience of those involved.

We do around 8 full takes, which is enough for the camera operator to get the perfect shot and for us to have a solid foundation to work with too. Time for some lunch and then straight back to it.

1pm

I think it’s fair to say that AIR has the best studio food I have ever eaten. I’m certainly not alone in thinking that, as the queue pours out of the door and round the same staircase that I’d wobbled down earlier. There’s always several hearty options, not to mention some sort of dessert you can only ever have without a guilty conscience on a cheat day. With a huge portion of food, I find a seat at a table with a mix of AIR staff, who always are universally kind and friendly. I eat and study the eclectic mix of people sat in the canteen, from the top session players in London to the punk rock crew from our studio - I can’t help but smile. I finish my last mouthful, with the vibrant green moss artwork on the wall catching my eye - which after a bit of digging, was apparently made by the mum of one of the assistants. Pretty badass.

2pm

Pretending that I wasn’t in the depths of a food coma from lunch, it was time to gear up for round two. This time, we would be playing back the video and re-doing any parts of the music recording that would benefit from a bit more control. It’s safe to say that the performances were first class on the original take. But the performance wasn’t ever going to be the issue here. When you have so many different sound sources in one space, it normally benefits to take them separately for greater control. This isn’t always in the case of orchestral recording for example, where often a tutti take (everybody playing) will sound fine. But it certainly its the case when you have a drum kit and tiny string section competing with each other.

So this afternoon we would make our way through getting some alternative takes for each group of musicians. Some of the splits included strings, brass, band, vocal, percussion and backing vocals. All of which undoubtably benefited from the isolation of being recorded alone. This allows you more freedom with both editing and mixing and put plain and simply - just sounds immeasurably cleaner.

This creates a bit of fun for the assistant - running round to unplug all headphones not in-use to avoid any click spill - the arch enemy of any self-respecting engineer at such an establishment. As we were using Avioms, I couldn’t pull the old trick of unplugging the headphone splitter boxes to cut a whole group of headphones - each and every set of cans had to be unplugged individually from its respective Aviom. So each time we switched to recording a different set of musicians, I’d rinse and repeat the whole saga. I mean, I’m not complaining, it helps me get my steps in. Which is never normally a problem as an assistant, I can say with some certainty.

In between this, I carry on with my usual drinks rounds and full out all of the necessary paperwork for the session. This includes taking notes of all equipment used and any settings, on a rather nicely laid out spreadsheet, and making a nice diagram of the room layout. This would accompany a whole album of recall photos that could be referred to in the future. These are some typical assistant duties while the session is running. You often have to run out to the live room in the breaks to take measurements of microphone heights and grab some swift photos, while the room is empty. It’s quite an art.

3pm

Piping out another A to the players, it’s the turn of the string players. Studying the perfectly arranged dots on the stave, there’s always a buzz in the air as we give them 2 bars of click and off they go. Dom’s eyes light up and a number of others in the control room are smiling as the unarguably beautiful sound of a string ensemble pours from the monitors. You can practically feel the concentration it takes to sight read to this level, which is a phenomenon in itself. Jed makes a few notes on one of his two computer monitors, listing any potential mistakes or noises that he hears, whilst keeping an eye on Pro Tools which fills the other display. The take is complete and we all agree how lovely it all sounds. The usual discussion commences of any direction needed for the proceeding take. The band are having a chuckle at the way we talk about music so differently with the session players - how bar 27 should actually be mezzo piano not piano, how the hairpin on bar 50 wasn’t working and that the ensemble wasn’t great on the final bar. It’s quite normal to me now but fair enough - it is pretty different talking to a punk band to session players sometimes. After a few tweaks, we are good to go. We normally would do a few full takes and patch up any areas for improvement - a fast workflow typical of all types of session. It just works. It doesn’t take long before we have a lush sounding string section, played to perfection. Is there anything better?

4pm

By mid-afternoon, it was time for the last piece of the puzzle - vocals. Upgrading the rather tired looking RE20 for a sparkling C12, we make a little vocal booth in the centre of the room, and finish with the obligatory Persian rug which no studio would be complete without. I wheel out one of the ridiculously large monitor - normally used for film/tv sessions, and patch through the video from this morning - allowing each vocalist to study the video to sync their new vocals to. Dom goes first, barely visible because of the huge screen blocking our view from the control room window. He nails it. Does a few takes and leaves no doubt that that’s all we need. Rare to say the least. He really is a legend.

The end of the day nearly in sight, we watch and listen back to what we have. The clients at the back nod in agreement that we have everything we need in the back. I mean, it looks and sounds insane. Not that there would ever be any doubt, but I breath a sigh of relief at their approval. High fives are exchanged. Dom gives us a heartfelt thank you and a hug, then very kindly invites us to his houseparty, which is an offer that you don’t usually get after a session nowadays, especially at somewhere as civilised as AIR! “They’ll be a tattoo artist doing free tattoos”, he says and my mind instantly races through concocted images of the classically trained musicians getting a cheeky YUNGBLUD tat. It gets more rock’n’roll by the minute. I’m not used to this.

6pm

We all say our goodbyes and I silently disappear to the live room, to start the de-rig. We all muck in and tear through the setup, quickly but efficiently coiling every cable and putting each microphone ‘to bed’ - back into each unique box and then into the huge microphone cupboard. It’s all immaculately organised. Cables are sorted depending on their length and every kind of adaptor, accessory and piece of equipment has its designated place in the studio. There’s so many reasons why AIR is a world renowned institution. We make a little small talk with the crew from the band as they put away everything of theirs, from stacks to drum sticks. The corridor by reception is almost illegally rammed with flight cases. As I pray we don’t need the fire exit anytime soon, the crew start to wheel everything away into the truck and my prayers are answered without any casualties.

We make some effort to put a few bits together for the following day’s tv session, keep out any mics they may need and put some chairs and music stands out. All straight-forward stuff. Luckily we don’t have to do a full setup as there’s ample time tomorrow morning for that. There’s a sort of silence in the live room that tells you you’ve done your job for the day. I can feel that we all know it’s nearly time for the pub. Our feet hurt a little and we probably could have done with a few more hours in bed this morning, but there’s still a bit in the tank for a drink or two (probably more). Apparently everyone else from the session, including the band, has already made their way down to a nice pub in Hampstead so we decide to meet them there and enjoy a few casual drinks as if it were a normal day. People periodically come up to Dom and Miles to ask for a selfie and I am beyond amazed at how they can stay so kind and friendly after all these requests. Soon enough, I’m sat on the tube, smiling to myself about some of the days events and recalling them later on to my other half. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

#yungblud #sound engineering #sound engineer #audio engineer #recording studio #music #audio

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