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ohmy7hearts · 3 years ago

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spring gale

Summary: Spring means new beginnings but a gale (a storm more like?) in the name of Shinazugawa Sanemi blows your plans out and throw your once peaceful life into the winds.

Pairings: Shinazugawa Sanemi x Fem!Reader // future Shinazugawa Genya x SisterFigure!Reader

A/N: this,,, is v impromptu. i literally got out of my bed bc it has been bugging me with how little sanemi fanfics there are, esp modern aus. tbh, there have been plenty of fics brewing in my mind and tell me if there’s any you’d be interested in and maybe i will return from my hiatus hah:

- zhongli modern au: adepti babies being your adopted children and navigating parenthood

- unknown pairing as of now but travelers being your kids so transporting yourself into the world to find them after 500+ years of not returning home

- etc involving atsumu, diluc, childe but if you have any requests, feel free to drop it in and maybe i’ll consider them

Warnings: Some cursing (I mean it’s Sanemi lolol)

“Shinazugawa-san?” Sanemi glanced up, his hands continued packing away his things into the bag, an eyebrow raised. You smiled, hands folded over the other in front of you, as you continued to speak after gaining his attention. “When would you be free to do the project?”

He sighed, throwing his bag over his shoulder, while making his way out of the classroom - tone and body language showing his disinterest in the conversation. “We can just do it in class.”

You jogged to get into step next to him, “Well, it is for the bare minimum. I’m sure we can do much better than that.” You observed his side profile to see if any emotion could give way to what he was thinking. You frowned, frustration creeping up on you, “I understand that we’re not each other’s first choice in partners but that’s not an excuse to not do our best.”

“Are grades and studying the only thing in that airhead of yours?” His eyes flit towards yours for a moment before returning its gaze forward. “I don’t fucking have as much free time as you.”

You stopped following him. A bolt of anger and disbelief had your mouth dropping and hands curling into shaking fists. You scoffed, voice raising with each word, “I believe you need this more than me, Shinazugawa-san. Unless you want to continue being a pain in everyone’s ass and eventually not even graduate, then be my guest.”

He swiveled towards you. You flinched reactively. He faltered, face momentarily flitting from anger to surprise back to annoyance the moment his eyes scanned you. One step, two steps. He was in your space, breathing in and out to you, with his strikingly cold eyes and thin eyebrows furrowed. “Say that again, I dare you.”

You closed your eyes before releasing a deep sigh, muscles easing from the hold of your anger. “We don’t have to do it after school or on the weekends if you are that occupied. We can do it before school or during our breaks and even before our clubs start.” You grabbed one of his wrist, turning his palm upwards, shoving the crumpled paper with your number into it while fixating your glare on him throughout. You refuse to back down but you will be the bigger person. Forcing his hand to a close, you narrowed your eyes for good measure while trying to control the smirk from overtaking your face when his frown further deepened in distaste. Taking a step back, your hands returned to the usual folded stance, you forced an amicable smile to replace the smirk - although you have a feeling that he could still see the smirk from how his eye twitched, “Of course, it’s really up to you, Shinazugawa-san.”

Turning on your heel, you headed back to the classroom with your head held high and a full-blown smirk on your face while your peers watched with stolen glances and whispers behind hands or under breaths. The clicking of his tongue echoed in the corridor and in your head all the way back to the classroom.

“Ara, ara, should you really do that (Y/N)-chan?” Shinobu greeted you by your desk, eyes filled with mirth from the free entertainment.

You laughed airily, eyes not meeting hers but focused on clearing the messy table, “I wouldn’t have to if he wasn’t that difficult.”

“Not many survive Sanemi you know?” Shinobu followed you to the student council room. “One must use their life's worth of luck to crawl out from his bad side.”

A bark of a laugh escaped you from her exaggeration. “Shinobu-chan ~ I thought you wanted to get into medicine and not theatrics?”

Her eyes met yours, a smirk tugging on her lips, eyes shifting precariously into ones when she knew something the other party doesn’t and in this case that was you. A shiver ran down your spine. You’ve been in the spot only a few times but still a few too many with most of them ending up jerking your view of the world down a path you’ve never considered. You gulped, hands itching and playing with themselves.

“Did you not hear about how he got into a fight with some university boys down at the park?” She leaped into your space, voice dropping into a whisper in your ear yet head tilted to ensure a front seat view to your reaction. “He came out with a couple of scratches and bruises but…” Her small hands encircled your upper arm. Your eyes dropping to them before returning to her face - surprised to witness your shock colouring your face white as it was reflected in those big eyes of hers. “The boys said to be much bigger than he is, had to go to the hospital.” Her smile bordering on unhinged glee, she drawled, “They were so scared they didn’t sue him.”

She immediately returned to her spot beside you, a foot away, while her shoulders and arms lifted in a form of a shrug nonchalantly. “Apparently, when questioned, the boys said something about them being the ones out of line and they have worked things out.”

Being close friends with Shinobu and Mitsuri meant that you were privy to the latest gossip and news but you always took it with a grain of salt seeing firsthand how some things were purposefully voided or added for the enjoyment of teenagers. You smiled unsurely, “that’s just a rumour Shinobu-chan.”

She pouted, invisible to those who didn't know her well enough or who weren’t keen enough, “You can ask Akio. He was a witness.”

Your eyes widened before blinking in incredulity. “What.”

She giggled, hand raising in a wave before dashing down the corridor. “Do share with me if he tells you more!”

It took you a few seconds to regain your bearings, even a shake of your head to rid the mental image of Sanemi punching away on people bigger than him for his amusement. He was by no means a small person shown clearly with the muscles seen even through the school uniform - a testament to his achievements as one of the greatest fighters in the taekwondo club despite his lacklustre participation of actually attending said club practices - but there were certainly bigger and taller people in your school, much less university.

“Hashimoto-san!” You snapped out of your musings.

“Tanaka-san.” You greeted back. The black haired guy chuckled, “I told you to call me by my first name. After all, we’ve been working together for 3 years. Unless, you don’t see me as a friend? Damn, it must hurt to only be seen as a student council partner even after winning the presidential election together.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” You huffed, plopping down into the chair and hands gravitating towards the papers on the table before being stopped by a hand on your wrist. Raising an eyebrow, he returned the gesture indicating there’s something he was expecting you to tell him. He released the grasp on your hand the moment you were falling back onto the back support of the chair with a sigh. “How may I help you Akio?”

“On the way here, I heard an interesting piece of news.” He sat sideways on the table, the leg on the table folded over the leg still standing. You folded your arms over your chest and hummed. “You and Shinazugawa were fighting?”

“It was just a talk that got a bit heated. I was trying to get a hold on him so we can do our project for literature together.”

Akio’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared under his bangs. “Wow, what luck. First, he somehow got into your class through that stupid maths shit and now you have to deal with him.” He smiled in assurance, eyes crinkling close and a hand over his heart. “Be careful but if anything happens, I’m here. I’ll come running to save my beloved president.”

You mouthed a wow. Silence blanketed the both of you as you nod in understanding - lips trying to contain the smiles and laughs - as he continued to express his devotion through his hand gestures - hand flying to point at you before returning to over his chest, patting it, then forming into a prayer of sorts - all the while mouthing his loyalty to you.

With a shake of your head and hands indicating him to leave as you pulled yourself closer to your table, “Thanks but I doubt I need it.”

Instead, he tilted his head backwards and narrowed his eyes on the ceiling. “If you see what I saw, I wouldn’t put too much faith in him.”

Blood freezes over while questions overwhelm your mind. You gulped and licked your lips to get rid of the sudden dryness, “And what exactly are they?”

“He didn’t stop beating them up or screaming at them even when they were down. Three policemen had to pry him off and restrain him.”

Your heart dropped.

#sanemi #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi x reader #sanemi imagines #shinazugawa sanemi #shinazugawa sanemi x reader #shinazugawa sanemi imagines #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer imagines #kimentsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #spring gale

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blossom-hwa · 4 years ago

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valentine’s day + stray kids ✧

the enablers: @wingkkun by virtue of their existence and @thepixelelf bc of her @newskynet valentine’s day prompt list (which can be found here! check it out :D) anyway you can blame them for my word vomits tonight tomorrow <3 happy early valentine’s day and I hope you enjoy these blurbs!

pairing: stray kids x gender neutral!reader (one blurb for each member!)

wc: 3.5k (total)

genre: fluff, lots of fluff, university!au

triggers: cursing

golcha version | the boyz version

SKZ Scenarios Masterlist | SKZ Drabbles Masterlist

1. “shit, what day is it again?”

when chan opens the door to a beaming you, he has no idea what’s going on. he still has headphones around his neck, there are definitely bags under his eyes, he hasn’t slept in maybe close to twenty hours, and there is definitely something important that he’s forgetting, judging by the nonplussed expression that has now slid over your face.

“chan, when did you sleep last night?” you ask, stepping into his dorm. you’re holding something behind your back that chan’s craning his neck to see, but you catch sight and twist away. “hey, no looking.”

the knowledge that you have something is more than enough, though, to get his overly tired brain actually thinking. his eyes narrow. what the heck is he forgetting -

oh.

oh no.

chan scrambles around for his phone as you look over, eyebrows rising as he pats his pockets. “shit, what day is it again?”

you hold up your own phone, giving him an eyeful of your lock screen set to a picture of himself laughing into the camera. he isn’t focused on that, though - he’s focused on the words underneath the time that say “february 14, 2021.”

“oh my god, it’s valentine’s day.”

“no shit, sherlock.” you put a finger to his forehead and press hard. “i made reservations.”

“what? okay, no, i swear you didn’t tell me about this -”

“i didn’t, chan.” you smile, shaking your head. “it was supposed to be a surprise. and i knew you’d forget the day or something because you always do lose track of time - hey, don’t look at me that way, i even made a bet with minho on the way and i’m right - so i came early to force you to sleep for several hours before we go out.”

okay, that’s fair, but chan’s lips curve downward into a pout anyway. “i didn’t forget,” he protests. “well, i forgot today, but i still have something for you! i got it last week.” he looks around frantically, then drags a box out from underneath his bed. “here!”

a wide smile splits your face and you pull your own present from behind your back, a red-wrapped box that chan begins to open as you cuddle the teddy bear he’s handed over to you. “chan, you sap,” you say, words muffled in the bear’s fur. “god i love you.”

“and i love you too,” he replies, pulling out a box of his favorite candy. “kiss?”

laughing, you press your lips together once, twice before pulling away. “sleep time,” you announce. “no kisses until you’ve gotten at least three hours.”

chan all but lunges into bed, trapping you with him between his arms. “sleeping now,” he says, voice muffled into your shirt. “goodnight.”

“good afternoon, more like.” you smile anyway, stroking his hair. “but good night.”

18. “oh my god, this chocolate tastes like chalk.”

minho is about to lose his shit in this tiny hospital bed with the sterile white sheets and curtains barring sunlight from streaming on his body. back when his ankle wasn’t broken to high hell, he really hadn’t given the sun enough appreciation. after three days of almost zero movement, though, he swears he’ll actually go outside voluntarily once he gets out of here.

the door opens. a head peeks in.

ah. there’s his daily dose of human sunshine.

a smile slides onto minho’s face as you come in, arms full of snacks and flowers. you place a bouquet of red roses on the little table beside his bed and dump the snacks onto his sheets. “happy valentine’s day, idiot boyfriend who broke his ankle just three days before today.”

minho scowls. “it’s not like i tried to.”

“i know. even you’re not that dumb.” you pat his head mockingly, laughing as minho’s scowl deepens. “sit up, idiot. here, i’ll help.”

he allows his frown to turn into a grudging smile as you help him sit properly in bed, careful not to jar his ankle before passing him one of the bags of chocolates in his lap. “jisung gave this to me for you and asked me to ask you if you would be his valentine.”

minho pauses in opening the bag. “what.”

“jisung for you.” you laugh. “his partner was right next to him laughing their ass off. try the chocolates.”

he picks one out. puts it in his mouth. chews. “oh my god, this chocolate tastes like chalk.”

“what - how the fuck do you know what chalk tastes like?”

“i don’t, what the fuck? i just imagine it would taste like this.”

you snort. “so my boyfriend first breaks his ankle dancing three days before we valentine’s, and on this romantic day i learn he’s definitely eaten chalk.” you sigh, snatching a bag of gummies from the sheets. “what a day.”

“i don’t eat chalk!”

“bet.”

he opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off with a kiss. “eat your chalk chocolate,” you direct when you pull away. “or jisung will get upset.”

“ugh fine.” he rolls his eyes. “but i’m only listening to you because i love you.”

“cheeseball.” you smile. “i love you too.”

20. “babe.” / “since when do you call me babe?”

grinning, jisung picks up the bouquet of roses you were about to hand him before falling to the ground in laughter. “these for me?”

“no, they’re for my valentine.” you snatch them back, still wheezing. “which was going to be you, but you ditched me for minho, so now i need to find someone else.”

“aw, come on.” jisung pouts, pursing his lips actively even as you try to hide the smile on your face by turning away. “y/n! y/n. y/nnnnnnnnn. y/n, look at me. please? y/n. babe.”

“what the - jisung - since when do you call me babe?” your half disgusted, half amused face sends him into hysterics as he glomps you in a hug, laughing into your shoulder. “hey, sung! get away! you’re drooling on my clothes!”

“am not!” jisung pulls away, trying to pout but laughing too hard to do so. you just looked so fucking funny. “and what’s wrong with me calling you babe?”

“don’t do it again.” you push his shoulder. “do not. you won’t like the consequences.”

“consequences?”

“one, you don’t get these flowers. i’ll put them in my own room.” you wave the bouquet in front of him. “two, i give chan the all clear to play ‘wow’ on his campus radio station.”

“you wouldn’t dare -”

“three, no kisses for a week.”

jisung falls to his knees. “no, no, y/n, my beautiful and wonderful significant partner, i will never call you babe again, please don’t sentence me the barren world of no kisses for a week just because of my idiot mouth -”

“jesus christ, jisung, get up. you’re making a scene.” you laugh anyway, pulling him up before placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips. “i was just joking. but please don’t call me babe if you don’t want me to cringe to the next dimension.”

“done deal.” jisung holds his out his hands. “flowers?”

you roll your eyes, handing them over. he breathes in their scent, smiling widely. “they’re so pretty!” then he looks up and winks. “but not as pretty as you.”

at that, you laugh again, crushing the bouquet as you wrap him in a hug. “i love you so much, jisung,” you murmur into his ear.

his arms reach out to loop around your waist as he pulls you closer. “i love you too,” he replies, smiling.

for a moment, you two only stand, finding peace in each other’s warmth. then jisung’s mouth runs once more.

“you know, i wrote my lyrics for ‘wow’ thinking of you.”

“do you have to ruin every moment?”

14. “you’re seriously asking me out on valentine’s day?”

changbin doesn’t even bother to reply to the picture jisung’s just sent of the flowers his partner gave him. he’s too nervous, his stomach literally fluttering as he stops his motorcycle by the curb and wheels it into the shop.

“hi, welcome, what can i - changbin?” you raise an eyebrow. “did you seriously bang up your motorcycle on valentine’s day?”

changbin’s ears turn bright red. he knows it even if he can’t see them. you think he always comes here because something else has magically gone wrong with his motorcycle, but what you don’t know is that he’s been pretending things are wrong with the vehicle for months at this point just so he has an excuse to see you.

and now it’s valentine’s day. the day he chose to fess up and admit how he feels and ask you on a date.

heck.

“nothing’s... broken.” changbin scratches his neck. “uh...”

both of your eyebrows are now high up on your forehead. “so why are you here?”

“i...” he coughs, feeling his ears flare even hotter. “i wanted - i wanted to ask if you -” he looks down, unable to look at you. “i wanted to ask if you would go out with me today. like. on a date.”

silence. he doesn’t have the courage to look up.

“you’re seriously asking me out on valentine’s day?”

changbin shrinks behind his motorcycle. holy fuck, this was the worst idea, you’re about to reject him and his heart is going to shatter -

then you step forward, place a hand on the vehicle. “okay, that came out wrong.” you tip his chin up gently so he’s forced to look into your soft, teasing eyes. “what i meant is that i’d love to go on a date with you today. i just didn’t expect you to ask me out on valentine’s day. didn’t seem like a very you thing to do.” you pause. “though i guess considering that song you played for me last time, it isn’t that surprising.”

oh, god. on track. changbin wrote that thinking of you.

“wait, seriously?”

he really just said that out loud. changbin groans, slapping his forehead. “why am i dumb,” he mumbles into his hand.

you laugh, peeling his hand away with grease-covered fingers. “you’re not dumb, bin. just sweet.” as he melts from the use of your nickname, you wave your greasy palm in front of his face. “let me go wash and tell seungmin to close up early. i’ll be out in a second.” you grin. “looking forward to whatever you have planned.”

(later, when you wrap your now clean arms around changbin’s waist on his motorcycle, he smiles so wide it feels like his face is going to split.)

25. “i love you.”

with a relieved sigh, seungmin locks up the shop, wiping grease-stained fingers on a towel. despite the fact that he mostly only handles the register, dirt still manages to get everywhere, even when he tries to be careful.

doesn’t matter. seungmin likes his job, likes it even though it’s a little hard to be independent from his parents after so many years of living off their credit card. the freedom is sweet, though - now he can learn what he wants, do what he wants, and best of all...

now he can date whom he wants.

seungmin smiles, running up to his dorm so he has just enough time to change and shower before meeting you. he cleans up quickly before grabbing the singular rose in a glass on his desk and racing downstairs once more, hair still slightly damp, to meet you in front of the building.

god, you’re beautiful, standing against the backdrop of the afternoon sun. in the moment that you don’t notice him walking out the door, he runs forward, smiling, before engulfing you in a back hug.

“hey - oh, seungmin.” he can hear the smile in your voice as you clutch his hands hanging around your shoulders. “you scared me!”

“sorry,” he says, pulling away to spin you around. god, looking into your laughing face, seungmin knows everything was worth it. he may have lived in the lap of luxury before, attending parties every other weekend and drinking the finest champagne while dressed in the most resplendent clothing (courtesy of the kim family empire), but luxury doesn’t mean much when he was missing real, true love, right? you were one of the first, other than hyunjin, to see through his cold facade and break into the warm heart underneath.

as he hands you the rose, he’s glad, so glad that you gave him the courage to go head to head with his parents for the first time, to finally break away from their strangling control over every bit of his life. what did he need parties and designer clothing and jewels for, anyway? he’s still living, still able to support himself even if it means a little more work. and even if he’s tired, he has your lips to come back to, every day.

“i love you,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, sweetly. “i really do, y/n.”

“so do i,” you breathe, smiling against his lips in reply.

12. “valentine’s day... that’s the one with the bunny, right?”

hyunjin kind of wants to hit you, significant other or not. judging by your shit-eating grin, you probably know exactly how he feels, but you keep your eyes as soft and innocent as possible. “no, i don’t know what day it is, hyunjin. isn’t it just february 14?”

“y/n.”

“hyunjin.”

he groans, sinking dramatically to the ground. “it’s valentine’s day.”

“oh. right.” you adopt a thinking expression, raising your eyes to the sky. “valentine’s day... that’s the one with the bunny, right?”

“y/n!”

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding!” you finally laugh, reaching out a hand to pull him up from the university quad. “hey, get up, hyunjin. you’re going to get your designer clothes dirty.”

shit, he is. hyunjin accepts your hand, dusting grass bits off of his shirt. “you’re so mean,” he whines. “to think i had a whole evening planned and all, just for you to pretend to forget the entire day.”

“ah, but i didn’t forget. i only pretended to.” you grin, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “and to prove it, i have something for you! close your eyes.”

eagerness and apprehension flooding his veins, hyunjin shuts his eyes. for a moment, he hears you digging around in your bag, and then you put something in his hand. “here!”

opening his eyes, hyunjin looks down to see a pair of elegant earrings in his palm. you made them, definitely - he can see the tiny mark of your initials etched in the metal of one earring, his initials on the other - and he smiles wide, so wide, all of your previous transgressions forgotten in this moment. “i love them,” he says, already unfastening the hoops currently in his ears to put the new ones in.

“i thought you would. hey, let me help.” your fingers take the earrings, deftly inserting one into each ear. “perfect.”

“i have something for you two, but you’ll get it later.” hyunjin pockets his old earrings before taking your hand. “right now, i’m taking you on a date.”

“what, i have no say in this?” your eyes sparkle.

“nope!” hyunjin laughs, swinging your arms in the air. “come on, i swear the evening’s going to be a lot of fun.”

“i believe you.” you stop him to kiss him once, softly. “everything’s fun with you, hyunjin.”

15. “shut up and kiss me.”

with the brownie box in his hands almost empty, felix makes every effort to dodge anyone who knows for fear that they’ll ask for one of the last few treats left inside. hyunjin took like five earlier, jesus christ, even when felix warned him he was saving some for you. ungrateful brat.

thankfully, no one accosts him, and he makes it to your meeting place without interruption. there you already are, mindlessly twirling a bouquet of roses around in your fingers. as he approaches, you look up, and felix is (once again) blown away by the intensity of your smile.

some people liken him to the sun. others, with his freckles, compare him to the stars. both, though, felix thinks are more proper descriptors for you and your lovely grin that’s as bright as the sun and the stars combined.

“felix!” you stand as he comes closer, handing him the roses. he passes over the box of brownies and you screech in delight, taking off the lid and popping one of them into your mouth. “oh my god, it’s so good.”

“don’t talk with your mouth full,” felix scolds, smiling anyway. “do you only love me for my brownies?”

“maybe” is the cheeky reply. you laugh as felix reels in mock astonishment, placing a dramatic hand to his chest. “i’ve been betrayed,” he wheezes. “stabbed in the back by my one true love who turned traitor to our romance, how will i live -”

“hey, felix?”

he looks up. “hm?”

your eyes sparkle. “shut up and kiss me.”

your lips taste like chocolate, sweeter even than the brownie you just finished. felix puts his arms around you, rose petals brushing against your back as he holds you close, close, closer -

“oh my god.”

a familiar voice makes felix pull away from your lips as he turns around. “jeongin?”

“nope, nope, nope,” the younger boy chants, eyes fully closed. “i saw none of that, jesus christ, come on, let’s go -”

too late, felix notices the person standing next to his friend, eyes also screwed shut. a smirk rises on his face. that must be jeongin’s crush, he thinks as they race away, the crush he’s been sweating over asking out for the last few weeks.

“aw, man.” felix frowns, suddenly coming to a realization. “jeongin probably wanted to confess here.”

“he’ll do fine,” you laugh, tugging at his arm. “now get back here. we’re not finished.”

felix smiles, pulling you close once more. “no, we aren’t.”

6. “no one’s ever given me something like this before.”

listen. jeongin did not need to see felix making out with his partner right before he was about to confess. not only did it completely ruin his plans to talk to you in the prettiest part of campus, but he also has an image seared into his mind that he really does not need.

“sorry,” he mutters, still unable to look at you.

“it’s fine.” jeongin can hear the second hand embarrassment in your voice. “it wasn’t your fault. uh.” you pause. “you said... you wanted to tell me something?”

right. jeongin squeezes his eyes shut, desperately trying to erase the previous images from his brain. “yeah. i did. um.” he swallows, then forces himself to look into eyes that sparkle in the fading sunlight, eyes that he fell in love with so many months ago when you two first worked on that project together.

thankfully, his words don’t fail him. “i just wanted to say i like you a lot, y/n.” jeongin keeps looking at you, even though all he wants to do is run away screaming. “as in... i want to ask you out. if that’s okay with you.”

silence.

then you start giggling.

jeongin frowns. why -

“oh my god, jeongin.” you double over on the bench, laughing even harder. “i’m so sorry.”

his heart sinks as embarrassment begins to burn his ears. “if you don’t like me -”

“no, no!” you straighten, wiping your eyes. “no, it’s not about that. it’s just -” you snort - “oh my god, you wanted to ask me out in the garden, right? but felix was there, and... jesus christ. jeongin, i’m so sorry.”

his cheeks flare red, but he also lets out a major sigh of relief that your laughter wasn’t a rejection. “yeah,” he says, a grudging smile climbing onto his face. “yeah, that’s pretty much what happened.”

you wipe your eyes again. “sorry for laughing. i didn’t mean to make fun of you or anything. i’d actually love to go out with you.” you smile. “really.”

“well, thank god for that.” jeongin huffs, cheeks still hot. “or i would’ve gotten this for nothing.” he holds out a small teddy bear. “this is for you.”

“oh.” you take it, eyes turning soft. “oh. no one...” you swallow. “no one’s ever given me something like this before.”

jeongin’s heart melts, it really does, seeing the slow, shy smile spread across your face as you hold the bear close. “thank you, jeongin.”

“you’re welcome,” he breathes, hardly able to find his words as the sun creates a stunning backdrop behind you as it begins to set. “happy valentine’s day, y/n.”

you smile wide, so wide. “happy valentine’s day, jeongin.”

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asterekmess · 4 years ago

Note

honestly, my fury at the lack of werewolf culture/history/worldbuilding is worthy of its own post. Let me know if by some ungodly chance, you actually wanna hear my thoughts on it // Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

ohmygod yes, pls, enable me.

SO.

I think I mentioned b4 that Teen Wolf hates werewolves.

This is a show about werewolves like, yeah, sure, they do other plots and stuff. But the main character is a werewolf. The vast majority of the cast are werewolves (at least in the first half of the show). But think about it. What do we actually know about werewolves? They uhh, they shift on the full moon. But like, what about the full moon? Cus’ Scott gets handcuffed to a radiator and he doesn’t shift and break out until the moon comes out from behind the clouds and he screams like it’s excruciatingly painful for him. But then Derek and his Betas are underground during their full moon, and they shift like it’s all fine and dandy (they’re furious, but there’s no pain) and it doesn’t matter whether they can see the moon or not. They, uhh, they’re allergic to wolfsbane/it’s poisonous to them (btw it’s poisonous to literally everyone, just the scent of it is enough to cause seizures and hallucinations in humans. It’s a whole other frustration that they won’t make up their fucking minds abt it. It’s one thing to say that this is some parallel universe where wolfsbane doesn’t poison humans (bc lydia makes them hallucinate with the punch but injesting that much wolfsbane should kill you, and Stiles straight pulls a plant out of the ground; should’ve caused itching, burning, a cough, nausea, fever, headache and More hallucinations) and yet Jackson has to see a doctor and gets told he’s got Aconite Poisoning. So WHAT IS THE TRUTH?) but apparently not enough for Derek not to be able to plant a wolfsbane plant and massive cord of roots (which he would’ve had to tie together himself) in a revenge spiral around Laura’s body. But just being around it causes wolves to lose control. But also there’s supposed to be different strains that do different things? And also sometimes you burn the wolfsbane and it becomes the cure, or you have to burn it out of them or you just cut it out of them? Make UP Your MIND or at least ACKNOWLEDGE that different strains do different things. They get stronger on a full moon. But does that mean they get infinitely stronger with every full moon they experience? Does that mean they get weaker during new moons? They’re stronger in packs. Okay, but they never establish what the fuck a pack is. Is it an agreement? Is it a magical bond? Scott just sort of says people are in his pack. Does that mean they are? Do the humans he knows make him stronger? Just how strong is this bond? Derek makes a claim that “You have your own pack now” so is that a joke, was he mocking scott? Or is he saying that there’s no need for an Alpha and just being a beta with some friends counts as a pack? Apparently they have some kind of...animal magnetism or mind control? Derek uses a funny voice and a guy wakes up from a near coma to look at him with seemingly no control. Peter can force Scott to shift up. Derek forces Isaac to shift down. Derek has an insane amount of control over dogs and makes one lose its fucking mind from like a hundred feet away? Scott makes one calm down, but derek sends attack dogs running with their tails between their legs. Is it actual control or is it just a persuasion? Is it just intimidation? I haven’t even gotten to culture. You’re telling me that we get an entire episode of Allison discovering the entire story behind the Argent clan’s origins as werewolf hunters, why they started, how her name means Silver and apparently that’s where the entire myth of silver hurting werewolves comes from, but we don’t get to know anything about the first werewolves? Where they come from? If they’re a form of evolution or just straight magic or if it’s a curse or a gift from the gods? There’s an entire hidden werewolf population with packs all over the world, but somehow there’s literally no wolf culture? No moon worship? No specific terminology (Alpha, Beta, and Omega are terms used by a really fucking stupid biologist who studied frantic wolves in captivity and cast aspersions on the entire species. He’s been disproven a Thousand Times. NONE of that Alpha, Beta, Omega shit is right. Packs aren’t Hierarchies of Dominance. They’re families. They’re led by two wolves, yes, an “alpha pair” that’s literally JUST THE PARENTS. THE ‘BETAS’ ARE THEIR KIDS. This terminology makes sense if used by HUNTERS who consider werewolves to be mindless dumb animals. WHY THE FUCK would werewolves use it to DESCRIBE THEMSELVES?) besides the absolute minimum of ‘I caught a scent?’ Are you serious? Then there’s werewolf ages. Oh my god that was so fucking lazy. Saying that werewolves don’t age like humans, but that Cora is seventeen “by human standards” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? I’ve seen theories that go so many different ways. The idea that Werewolves live really long lives because of the superhealing. The idea that they live really short lives because their healing just burns through their body really quickly. The idea that their lifespan is directly correlated to the amount of damage they take because they can only heal so much, so wolves who get hurt a lot age faster than wolves who don’t. There’s NO explanation! You’d think it might be an interesting point for Scott to find out that he’s gonna live to fucking 200 years old. (How old is Satomi again?) That sounds like something a Teenager would be daunted by. We see them make fun of Stiles a few times because he believes werewolf myths about silver, and then because he believes Peter when Peter tells him he lives in a series of underground caves. But like...why not? THESE ARE WEREWOLVES why did you just make them humans with extra facial hair? Where are the traditional mating rituals (or even the concept of a mate/life partner, can you imagine how interesting that would’ve been? If Scott found out Allison was his mate? Or if he suddenly had all these weird urges around her, like rubbing their foreheads together or cuddling her way too much or wanting to bring her food? That would’ve been fascinating and hilarious as subplots for their romance!) where are the full moon runs or pack get-togethers? Where are the aversions to perfumes or cologne? Where are literally any animal behaviors besides AGGRESSION? Where is the den-making? Can werewolves eat fast food or does the grease bug them? Talia was a famous Alpha bc she could full shift. Does anyone know why she could do that? “Evolution” is a bullshit answer, let’s be real. It’s shitty writing and it put Derek through so much more than he deserved. THEY ACCIDENTALLY ESTABLISHED that ALL HALES can full-shift! IT’s NOT EVOLUTION. It’s BIRTHRIGHT. Talia fullshifted. Peter full-shifted (though his was distorted into the monster thingy. That wasn’t anything like Deucalion’s shift. It was a FULL SHIFT) Laura could full shift bc she did it after she died. No other werewolves on the show turned into full wolves after death, even if they died with wolfsbane in their system? MALIA could full-shift into a coyote. LITERALLY EVERY HALE except Cora and that’s bc she got booted back to South America COuld FULL SHIFT (and it never happened after they lost all of their wolf powers, that coud’ve been an interesting plot if they didn’t FUCK IT UP.) But still there’s no explanation, or even just acknowledgement? You don’t have to spell it out for us, but at least SAY “Hey, so the Hale family is really powerful and all of us can full-shift. Not sure why, but it’s neat.) I’m still stuck on rituals. Routines. Werewolf mores. Social cues. Are there certain smells they’re supposed to ignore? Is it polite to pretend you don’t hear someone coming up to your house until they knock? Do they have rules about waiting until the Alpha eats before they start eating (much like how lots of traditional households wait for the father to dig in, or whoever is head of household)? Is it tradition to homeschool werewolves for the first few years until they learn control? Are there seriously no rules about biting humans? You don’t have to talk to their parents or have a specific conversation with them? And if werewolves are so dominance/hierarchy based, then you’re telling me there’s no “second-in-command” or respectful greetings that are supposed to be used for an Alpha? There’s absolutely no form of werewolf government or ancient laws or anything except a big spiral that is universally recognized as a sign you’re gonna kill people? What was the wolfsbane around Laura’s body for? Why make the spiral out of that instead of just drawing in the dirt or something? We make a lot of jokes about Derek being bad with his words, but so is Peter and so is Cora. And they’re the only born wolves we interact with (except Satomi who ALSO isn’t a chatterbox) What if that’s not just because they’re all traumatized and cranky? What if they’re just speaking on a different level? Scents and body language are integral to wolf interaction. Like how we say that Peter has that conversation with Derek’s eyebrows? What if Derek’s so fucking pissed all the time because he hates talking to Scott because SCott ISN”T LISTENING to his body language and scent and chemosignals? He tells Scott to use all his senses, and Scott does it fucking once to say that Peter felt “Angry” and never again. What if Derek is Talking PLENTY (with his body and movements and reactions) but Scott just isn’t paying attention? Isaac seems to understand Derek just fine. Erica and Boyd never complain that Derek is lying to them or ‘keeping something’ from them? What if the reason Scott always thinks Derek’s hiding something is because he isn’t reading the rest of Derek’s conversation and he assumes that the empty feeling is Derek lying. Even STILES seems to understand Derek. He’s human, but he goes totally wolfy. He already uses body language a lot and while he gets mad at Derek he never has to ask what the fuck derek is saying or what he’s holding back. I digress. I wanna know why no other packs came to help Derek and Laura after their family died. I wanna know why Emissaries and Druids are so incredibly important to the supernatural/werewolf world but Derek barely knew they existed (Especially when it’s established that he know tons of lore about other species.) and even though every single pack should have an emissary, they never handle who is the emissary for Derek’s pack or for Scott’s pack (Once again, is an emissary bound to their pack somehow or is it just an agreement?). I wanna know why Derek knew Satomi and trusted her but for some reason never felt like he could ask her for help? Centuries of hiding and living amongst humans with almost no wolf behavior to their name, but none of these packs interact? There’s Druid Vets and Hunter cops and Emissary counselors. But no werewolf doctors? No werewolf teachers? Absolutely no werewolf society? If Derek was worried about Paige not accepting that he was a werewolf unless she became one, what does that say about his experience with humans? He says “there were people in my family that were perfectly ordinary in that house” who died in the fire. But wouldn’t he talk to a human pack member about his worries, if he had one? Or even a bitten pack member? He admits he doesn’t know how to train a Bitten wolf. He’s never been called out by a human pack member for using phrases like ‘caught a scent’ or for reacting to things he shouldn’t. Does this mean Derek’s family was entirely werewolves? No humans in the know? No bitten wolves? He has a huge thing about keeping the secret and never letting anyone in on it unless they get dragged into it. Did Derek’s pack have some kind of prejudice against humans? Was Derek raised to believe humans were weak or cowardly or something, that he thought this beautiful girl would automatically hate him and expose him if she were to discover the supernatural without being forced into silence by self-preservation.

Lots of times, it’s easy to forget in this fandom that so much is missing, because we’ve been filling in the gaps for so long that some stuff is practically canon. It’s generally assumed that the Hales were homeschooled before high school. It’s generally assumed that there’s some kind of bond that marks people as pack. We instinctively add in mentions of Scent and the use of the shift (growling, claws, a hint of fang, flashing eyes) as part of the casual communication between characters. We add in scent-marking and territory boundaries and specific roles in the pack. We do all of that and never think twice because it’s already in all the fic. But we did that. The show gave us nothing. It spent an entire season talking about the nogitsune and the oni and how they’re summoned and what kitsune fox tails are for, but we never got to find out why wolves can do the pain-drain (or even if it dissipates the pain or just transfers it to the wolf doing the draining) or if Derek Hale EVEN HAS A DAD.

#personal #rant #Meta Ramblings #it's not even anti-scott #Anonymous #go for it

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aclosetfan · 4 years ago

Note

if you are still taking prompts

may i suggest

“he focused the sound of her feet walking towards him. damn, he is so fucked”

@over-under-through1 (Lol you don’t even have to request stuff btw, Id literally just write stuff for you b/c youre so nice)

I thought of a few ways I could go with your prompt, but everything was coming up either hella boring or too predictable. I can’t say I’m too happy with what I wrote, but I know you like the greens so I settled on fleshing out a scene from a never written fic about Bubbles and Boomer’s engagement, and Bubbles forcing their families to meet (against Boomer’s recommendation). The twist is that everyone already knows each other, and unsurprisingly, no one likes their bridal party counterpart. (no powers au)

For the sake of context: Butch and BC are both the kid-siblings in this story. They know each other because they go to the same high school. Butch is one strike away from being sent back to juvie, and BC has the incredible (self-imposed) pressure of living up to her amazingly successful older sisters. Prior to the blue’s engagement, none of the green’s interactions had been particularly positive b/c Butch is considered a bully and BC’s best friend (only friend) Elmer is often bullied. BC’s personality is very closed off and Butch thinks she’s creepy. (lol I could go on forever about the potential outline of this story, but this is enough for a dumb excerpt)

-------

Prompt: He focused on the sound of her feet walking towards him. Damn, he was so fucked.

Summary: Butch needs a hero, he’s holding out for a hero—wait no, not that one! He wants another hero; he’s holding out for literally any other hero. Buttercup would just like one night of normal jogging.

Pairings: greens (but not romantic more like the very, very beginning of a positive relationship)

Genre: friendship/action

Rating: like 18+ for language and violence; t/w: thinly veiled sexual harassment (just threats, NO action—located towards middle) My warning/rating is just precautionary. Honestly, didn’t write anything that wouldn’t be shown on TV.

He was slammed against the fence by the scruff of his collar, and it was the first time that night that Butch thought, maybe, things weren't going to work out in his favor. "Come on, guys." He coughed, still recoiling from the punch to his gut, "Three of you, one of me? You may want to call the rest of your friends over and make it a fair fight."

The smart and playful banter was neither appreciated nor reciprocated, as another jab connected with his stomach. He gagged, and they allowed him to drop to his knees.

"What?" He coughed, as bile burned the back of his throat, "Skipping the dirty talk? Got somewhere better to be?"

"Do you ever sssshut up?" Snake, one of Ace's fave little goblins, growled.

"My incredible wit is half my charm, and you want me to s-s-s-sssshut up?" Butch argued back, mocking Snake's ever-present lisp. It wasn't the smartest move, but the way Snake's face contorted into something uglier, Butch believed his inability to keep his fucking mouth shut had been worth it. Snake kicked him fully to the ground and pinned him there. Face smooshed in the dirt, he cursed at them, and Snake pulled his hair, peeling his head off the pavement.

"What you sssay, kid?" He hissed.

"I said," Butch spit, "how's it feel to finally be the guy on top?"

Snake smashed his head down hard onto the pavement, and Butch saw a wave of stars.

"Piece of sssshit!"

"Takes one to know one, right?" He groaned as his vision became less and less spotty.

"I jussst," Snake chuckled, "I jussst can't fucking wait to sssee you get taken out."

"Like murder? Or on a date, because, like, you're not my type."

That earned him a punch to the back.

"Ssshut the fuck up, man!" Snake huffed, shoving his face back into the dirt.

"Fuck thisss kid." Snake said to the other two idiots, "Billy, hold him down. I'm gonna get Ace. Tell him we found him."

Butch tried to break away, as soon as Snake had let him go, but Big Billy, the biggest, dumbest, motherfucker that Ace probably kept around for his size and his size alone, stomped down on his back, replacing Snake, and effectively keeping Butch in his place on the concert.

"Yeah! That's right, pillow princess! Run home to daddy!" Butch barked after Snake's fleeing form, before a foot connected with his head. This time his abuser wasn't Snake or even Billy. No, this painful encounter was best accredited to Grubber. Grubber was another one of Ace's favorite minions. He was a short ugly man who, Butch swore, was suffering from some thyroid disease that made his ugly eyes bulge.

Butch couldn't tell if Grubber was dumb or smart. Butch couldn't even tell if Grubber was human. He looked more like the reanimated corpse of a dog-troll with the way he hunched and let his tongue lull out of his mouth. Regardless, the guy haunted his nightmares.

Butch let his head drop back to the ground in a daze and cried out when Billy applied more and more of his weight onto his back with a giggle. Butch was sure he'd end up snapping in half.

Mentally, he pleaded with the universe for a miracle. He had never been much of a believer in anything before. He figured when he died, he'd just die. Really nothing more to it. What he had not figured on, in all of his existential wonderings, was his death taking place in the middle of an abandoned McFatties parking lot, and frankly, he found the whole ordeal a little unfair. An abandoned McFatties parking lot was possibly one of the worst places he could think of to die in, and that was coming from him, a kid who had been forced to visit the state of Ohio once. So, mentally, he pleaded with the universe for a miracle.

"Hey!" A voice cried out, and because he was 99.9% sure he knew that voice, Butch filled with even more dread, taking back his pleas to the universe that had only happened mere seconds ago. He actually didn't need a miracle. He needed the sweet release of death.

Please. Please. The Death. Please! Not this! I don't want this! He mentally chanted, Death, death, death!

"Duuuh, hello?" Billy asked the parking lot, and Butch lifted his head a bit to get a look. When no one presented themselves, Grubber and Billy shared a look before shrugging, and they continued to bounce on his back until a brick sailed through the air and hit Grubber on his head. The shock of it caused Grubber to bite down on his tongue, and he cried out in pain.

"Grubber?" Billy asked, his voice thick with worry.

"Get off that guy!" The “mystery” voice rang out, and another brick flew through the air and hit Billy on the shoulder.

Big Billy stumbled off of him and looked around, "Who threw that!"

"Go!" The voice was closer, and Butch could hear the sound of running, "I'll call the police!"

The threat was enough for Grubber, who was still clutching his mouth. He grabbed Big Billy by the shirt, and they took off.

"We're telling!" Billy cried out like a five-year-old as another brick made contact with his back, "We're gonna tell on you!"

"Yeah! Keep running!" The "stranger’s" running came to a halt a little away from him, and yep, he 100% knew that voice. He groaned, his eyes screwing shut with pain, as he laid out on the pavement. He focused on the sound of her feet walking towards him and groaned again. Damn, he was so fucked.

"Shit are you ok—wait, Butch?" Buttercup asked, barely masking her surprise.

"Don't tell my brothers." He cracked an eye open when he felt her standing over him.

"I could care less." She scoffed at his weak begging, "Are you dying?"

He flexed and wiggled, but besides some major bruising, he seemed to be functioning well enough.

"Like," he grimaced, "not physically."

There was a shout, and Buttercup bristled above him. "Good enough, now get up," She huffed, yanking him up and his knees locked in pain.

"I take it back." He bent over, clutching his stomach, "I take it back, I'm dying."

"They were over here, bosssss!" The Snake called from around the corner.

"Well, now's not the time." Buttercup hissed at him and threw one of his arms over her shoulder to help drag him along, "I'm really gonna need you to get your shit together."

"Give me a minute." He hissed back, gritting his teeth, as he tried to get his legs to corporate, "Internal damage doesn't just fix itself. I don't have fucking superpowers."

"Consider getting some," She huffed back as they hobbled along in the shadows, ducking into a random alleyway.

He scoffed, "What are you even doing here?"

"What are you even doing here?" She echoed as they exited the alley and took a random right. She was moving them towards a bus stop. The street lamps shone over the bus stop bench like a spotlight, and the seat sang to him like a siren. His head was still reeling from the blow Grubber had dealt, and sitting down was exactly what he needed to stop the world from spinning.

"Touché." He said after a moment. Her business was her business. His was his. He was fine keeping it that way.

They made it to the bench, and Buttercup set him down. He slumped, holding his head in his hands as she paced around, peering into the shadows that the bus stop lights couldn't reach.

"Buses aren't coming anymore." He mumbled, and she looked back over at him with a frown, "Obviously, I know that."

"Then can you stop pacing.” He demanded, “You're giving me a headache."

"I'm giving you a headache?" She scoffed, "Listen, get up. We need to get somewhere with more people."

She was right; he knew that. The street they were on was desolate. They were still too far from both the City's hustle and bustle and the neighborhood cop patrols in the outlining suburbs. This was an awesome no-man land for shitheads like Ace and Co. to hangout.

At the same time, though, it hurt to move.

"Are you suggesting we run away?" He snorted, putting on a brave face, "Not my style, cupcake."

"Don't call me that." She shot back without missing a beat, "And I'd say this is more of a tactical retreat. I can't spend the rest of the night saving your ass. There are better things to do to waste my time with."

He stood up with the full intention to say something witty and badass back, but he moved too quickly and swayed. Little black dots filled his vision, and he plopped right back down onto the bench with a grimace.

"Five more seconds," He ended up spitting out as he gripped his head in his hands.

"Okay, for real, are you going to be okay?" Buttercup asked, kneeling in front of him, "Your head's bleeding."

He brought a hand to his forehead and tried to swallow the wince as his fingers brushed the wound. He frowned and examined the blood on his hands, "Well, that explains a few things."

She frowned back at him, "You could have a concussion. We need to get help."

"Probably not." He waved away her concern, cracking a smile, as he thought back to a particular conversation they had had in the school cafeteria not too long ago, "I've been told I've got a thick head."

She opened her mouth to retort, but somewhere in the shadows, there was a scuffle, like the sound of a can being kicked, that made her snap her mouth shut. She stood, whipping her head in every which direction looking for something terrible to appear.

"You're gonna have to walk faster." She looked back at him, "You're too heavy to carry."

"Excuse me, ma'am, it's not very polite to comment on a person's weight."

Buttercup glared down at him, "Do you really think right now is the best time to be a smart-ass?"

"Yes, in fact, I do. It's how I cope, thanks."

"You cope with humor?" Buttercup blinked with a dry stare, "Why?"

"Well, Ms. Doom-and-Gloom, I know this may be hard for you of all people to understand, but laughter is the best medicine."

"No," She snorted, rolling her eyes, "I'm aware. I just don't get how it works for you since, you know, you're not funny."

Butch opened his mouth to retort, but a hand shot out of the shadows and gripped Buttercup by the shoulder. She gasped in surprise, and he shot up a little straighter, ignoring his headache.

"Gotta say, Butcie-pal, I agree with the girl. I neva thought you were too funny either." Ace leered, "Who's ya pretty little friend, anyway, hmm? I don't think we've ever been introduced."

"Oh," Buttercup grimaced, shaking her head as she flicked Ace's hand from her shoulder, "no. No. Touching me won't be necessary."

"Fancy seeing you here, Ace." He gritted out through a forced smile, "A little birdy told me you got out of the joint early."

"Good behavior." Ace's face split into an equally condescending smile, "Did ya miss me, kid?"

"I've been countin' the seconds, buddy."

"Wait, Ace?" Buttercup's eyes went wide with recognition, "The Ace? From the Gang Green Gang?"

"The very same." Ace winked down at Buttercup, his sunglasses slid down his face as he checked her out, "I see my reputation proceeds me."

Buttercup ignored Ace, and whipped back around to glare at him, "Seriously, Butch? You were fighting with the Gang Green Gang?"

He rolled his eyes, "Oh, I'm sorry, did I not get around to telling you that, Buttercup? I've been a bit preoccupied."

"Buttercup?" This time Ace froze with recognition, and jabbed a slim, long finger in Buttercup's face, "Now, hold on. I know you."

Buttercup's lips pursed as she hit his hand away, "No, no, you don't."

"Yes, yes, I do." Ace continued to wag his finger in her personal space, "You're that prissy prosecutor's sister, ain'tcha, the one who had the pleasure of locking me up for three years?"

Buttercup's eyes darted over to Butch before going back to Ace, "Can't say exactly. The City has a lot of prosecutors."

Ace's face broke back out into a smile, "Yeah, yeah. I remembers seeing you in the paper, right next to ya sista."

Buttercup frowned, "Not ringing any bells."

"Aw, come on, don't play dumb with me. We're all friends here. Your sister, she's the one with the red hair, wears a ribbon, funky eyes. What was her name again? Tulip? Rose?" He snapped his fingers in though a few times, "Something floral."

"Blosssssom?" Snake suggested from behind.

"Ah!" Ace's smile grew, "Blossom! Yes! Thank you, Snake!" He grabbed Buttercup by the shirt and dragged her close. Practically nose to nose with her, he smirked, "Ringing any bells now?"

"Just a few." She glowered, no longer feigning cluelessness.

Ace threw his head back with a laugh, "This is the night that just keeps giving, boys! We've caught this shitbag." He jabbed a finger back at him on the bench, "And now we've got Blossom's pretty little sister to play with." He pulled her closer by the sleeve of her shirt, smashing her against his chest, "The only thing that would make this better is a beer! You drink, sweetheart?"

Butch scoffed because even though Buttercup was obviously a secret witch necromancer in her spare time, he wasn't a fucking degenerate who enjoyed watching men scaring girls, "Your issue's with me Ace, leave her out of this."

Ace threw Buttercup away, pivoted on his heels, and stalked back over, "Oh, oh, don't worry 'bout nothing Butch. I haven't forgotten about you. Sees after me and the boys get done having a little fun with your girlfriend, I'll be taking care of you."

Butch bristled in sync with Buttercup, "Oh—"

"—no—"

"—Wait!"

"Time out!" Buttercup cried, forming a 'T' with her hands, "I'm—"'

"—She's—"

"—not his—"

"—girlfriend!" They denied simultaneously.

Ace blinked, "I'm threatening both your dignities and your lives, and that's what you're choosing to focus on?"

"Yes!"

"Alright." Ace conceded, shrugging. "Say, fellas, get Butch's. . .acquaintance?" Ace asked, looking at him for confirmation.

"Eh, sure—" He conceded with a shrug, as Buttercup huffed from behind Ace, crossing her arms.

"—I wouldn't even say that."

"Yeah, okay then," Ace corrected himself, ignoring Buttercup, "Fellas, get his acquaintance nice and ready for me while I have a few words with the kid. Don't rough her up too much, though. You know how I like to work with a clean canvas."

"Ssssure thing bossss,"

"Oh, hell, no." He heard Buttercup growl, but his view of her was cut off by Ace, who pulled him up by the scruff of his collar. The adrenaline was pumping once more through his veins, so this time, standing at least didn't hurt.

"Seriously, dude, I don't think you wanna fuck with me like this." He threatened, but even he knew how empty it sounded.

"Seriously, dude," Ace mocked with a smile, "I don't think I give a fuck. Gotta admire your balls, though, kid. Takes a lot of guts to talk to me like that."

"What's your fucking deal anyway? I did what you asked for, I—"

Ace, a cheap bastard who fought dirty, kneed him hard in the groin. Butch let out a strangled gasp, and Ace laughed, letting him drop to the ground.

"It's that fucking mouth of yours." Ace answered, squatting down to get in his face. His breath smelt like cigarettes, weed, and rat piss, "Anyone ever told you it ain't becoming cussing in front of your elders all the time?" Ace reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack. Taking a cigarette, Ace offered it up, "Want one?"

"I don't smoke." He replied curtly. It was a semi-lie. He smoked. He just wasn't an avid cigarette smoker. Considering his family, though, he did, in fact, fancy himself a professional second-hand smoker. Brick chained-smoked. Boomer was always in a perceptual state of "I'm quitting tomorrow." Mojo could typically be found puffing on some pipe or cigar. And HIM was more of a social smoker, but a smoker nonetheless, since he liked using the cigarette sticks that made him look like Audrey Hepburn too much not to smoke.

If he died, Butch had always figured, it'd be lung cancer that took him out.

"That's smart." Ace nodded, chuckling, "It's shit for ya anyway, but what vice isn't, right?"

Butch watched Ace wearily as he searched around for his lighter. The pain in his groin had subsided into a dull ache, but he stayed on the ground. With Ace, he had to play it smart. Five against one weren't numbers in his favor, and there was Buttercup to consider, unfortunately. The little priss was probably scared shitless.

Ace flicked his lighter on a few times before it caught light and puffed his cigarette for a moment. Finally, he looked back down at Butch and exhaled a cloud of smoke in his face. It didn't bug Butch, but Ace seemed to think it was pretty funny.

"Now, kid, these manner problems you seem to be still having, I think, you know, that someones gotta teach you a thing or two. Seems like your shitbag brothers ain't doing too good a job, huh?"

"Don't talk to me about my brothers."

"Yeah?" Ace smiled, the cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth, "And whatcha gonna do, huh, do I gotta remind you about the position youse in?" Ace stood up and kicked his foot hard into Butch's gut. Again, he lost the air in his lungs.

"Fuck you." He coughed, and Ace shook his head.

"See again with the cussing." Ace sighed, "Figured since your brothers are too good for us now, that they'd do a little better by you, but I guess somethings neva change. Once a rat, always a rat, right?"

Butch opened his mouth to retort, but the commotion behind Ace caught his attention. Ace didn't seem to notice as he continued to lecture Butch on manners, respect, and a bunch of other things gang-bangers seemed to believe they automatically deserved. Through the gaps of Ace's legs, he watched as Grubber hit the ground hard.

His eyes widened as Buttercup swooped in on the fallen man, stomping down onto his back to keep him still. The taser in her left hand sparked to life as she spun around and lodged the offending weapon into Snake's neck. Snake cried out and made a swipe for her arm, but she ducked down, invading his hold. Squatting on the ground, Buttercup jabbed the taser into Snake's crotch, and the noise he made was finally enough to get Ace's attention.

"Wha—" Ace started, his sunglasses sliding down his nose in shock. Butch probably didn't look any better.

Buttercup ignored Snake's pleas for mercy and kicked his feet out from under him. He collapsed to the ground, still holding himself in his hands, and Buttercup smirked. Using her hands to launch herself into the air, she flipped away from Big Billy, who had been clambering up behind her, without a second glance. Billy’s nose was already bleeding, and based on the feral way Buttercup was taking the gang out, Butch would have placed money that a good headbutt had caused it.

Billy was too slow for Buttercup. Butch didn't have a clue where Arturo was, but if she kept bolting, he was pretty sure she had a clean and clear shot out of danger's way. To his surprise, though, Buttercup didn't run away. After landing her flip, she slid to a halt and turned back towards Billy. Squatting down low, like a sprinter, she took off back towards him at top speeds. Butch knew Buttercup was fast since she was always running everywhere like a madwoman, but he didn't think she could go that fast. She was on a high-speed collision course with Billy, a guy four times bigger than her, and it was the first time in his life that Butch had ever seen her smile like that.

Billy was ready for her, though. His arms were opened up wide as he got ready to grab her. Butch almost called out to her in warning, but instead, he watched in astonishment as she collided with Billy at a nearly perpendicular angle. She jumped slightly up before impact and threw her weight down onto Big Billy, using her shoulder to break his block and knock him off balance. The force of her momentum caused the big guy to stumble off to the side. He cried out in surprise as he tried to steady himself, but Buttercup didn't give him a chance. Like Snake, she dropped to the ground so that she could kick his unsteady feet from out underneath him. And like on Snake, it was quite effective.

Billy hit the ground with a loud crash and Buttercup stood over him, clapping the dust off her hands as she shot Ace a look.

Butch shared a bewildered look with Ace for a moment, before they both turned back to the fight.

"Billy!" Ace cried out, "Get up, you lug!"

Billy didn't get up, but he did start crying, and Butch laughed, "Ah, come on Ace, the bigger they are, the harder they fall, right?"

Ace glowered at him and called out to both Snake and Grubber, who both, in turn, moaned from their spots on the ground.

"Arturo!" Ace shouted, "Where the fuck are you?"

"Here, boss!" Arturo cried, sprinting out of the shadows and towards Buttercup with a battle cry. He lunged for her, but Buttercup seemed unfazed as she reached into her hoodie and pulled out a can. She sprayed whatever it was into Arturo's face, and he dropped mid-lunge to the ground with a horrible cry. She sprayed his face two extra times for good measure and then pocketed the can of mace like it was as unimportant as Chapstick.

She whipped her head back around towards them and again shot Ace a death glare.

"Holy shit." Butch blinked and then let out another short laugh, looking back up at Ace, "Like damn, dude, you're so fucked."

Ace balked, taking a few steps back. He began to root around in his pockets before pulling out a switchblade and flicking it open, "Don't take another step!"

Buttercup brushed some dirt off her jacket as she continued to advance, "What, Ace? Is the canvas not clean enough for you?"

Without his lackey's, Ace trembled with fear, "I said, not another move."

"Cute knife," Buttercup shrugged, nonplussed, as she reached back into her pocket, "Wanna see mine?"

Ace looked between the two of them, as Butch began to find his footing once more, then at his fallen minions. He dropped his hands and backed further away.

"This ain't over!" He sneered and took off running.

Buttercup pulled her hand out of her pocket, sans knife, and dropped to her knees to inspect him.

"Do you just piss everyone off for fun?" She asked, helping him up.

"Something like that," he shrugged.

Behind them, Billy began to groan as he attempted to pick himself off the ground. Buttercup's eyes went wide.

"Let's go." She hissed and pushed him into a run. She pulled him along for a moment as she ran before letting him go and taking off on her own. He tried his best to keep up, but the beating he had been put through quickly caught up with him. He slowed to a stop and watched her disappear into the distance. Taking a few deep, heavy breaths, Butch bent over and put his hands on his knees.

In. Out. Wince. In. Out. Wince.

He wanted to call out to Buttercup, but she was long gone, and, for once, he couldn't find his voice.

What a fucking night, though, he ended up thinking to himself.

There was nothing else that the world could throw at him that would surprise him at this point.

But right on cue, the world took him up on that because immediately after he spoke the challenge into existence, red and blue lights flashed behind him. A cop car chirped, its siren turning on and off once to get his attention. Butch slumped further down with a sigh, because of fucking course. He should have known better.

Jumped and thrown back into juvie all in one night—it was a new personal record! He couldn't wait to hear the opinions his family would have. With another heavy sigh, he threw his hands into the air and turned around to face the officer since he wasn't too particularly keen on adding "racially profiled and shot in the back" to his long list of shitty sob stories.

"Well, well." The officer stepped out of his car, but Butch couldn't see which one since the officer had neglected to turn off the headlights shining right in his face, "What do we have here?"

He kept quiet because he knew his fucking rights. The cop stalked up to him and blinded him with a flashlight. He didn't quite understand why that had been necessary given the patrol car's headlights, but cops were a different breed of stupid in this City.

"Now, if it isn't the most illustrious Butch Jojo. I've heard about you, kid."

Butch grunted back.

"Hmm, not much of a talker?" The cop asked conversationally, and Butch twitched with annoyance. He didn't get why everyone—especially adults—always wanted to do the small talk bullshit.

"That's fine. I'll get to the point—" Butch already knew he actually wouldn't, "—where are you coming from looking like that?" The cop flashed his flashlight up and down, emphasizing the tears and bloodstains on his clothes. "Are you aware of a robbery that took place on 5th tonight?"

Butch seized up, knowing exactly what the cop was implying. "That's like forty minutes from here on foot!" He protested.

"I wasn't asking for directions, son."

"I don't know anything about a robbery on 5th." Butch spat back, and the cop's mouth curled into a sneer.

"Then, care to explain what you were running from?"

Taking a deep breath, Butch glared at the officer, "I don't have to say anything."

The cop chuckled, "Well, maybe you'll change your mind at the station."

"What!" Butch yelled, "I—"

"—Calm down, kid, I'm not playing games!"

"Wait, officer, wait! He's with me." Buttercup ran forward, reappearing from the shadows and linking their arms together. Slightly, she pulled him away from the officer and his blinding lights, "I was showing him the loop I run, and he tripped. I—I was doubling back to bring him a—uh, a bandaid?" She (poorly) lied.

"Buttercup Utonium?" The cop blinked, and she offered a strained smile.

"Hey, Officer Smith."

The officer's face contorted, and he jabbed the end of his flashlight toward Butch's face, "He's with you?"

"Uh, yeah." Buttercup shrugged, stepping slightly in front of him like a barrier, "His brother is engaged to my sister."

The officer lowered the flashlight and blinked in surprise, "Blossom's engaged? I just saw her the other day."

"Not Blossom." Buttercup shook her head, "Bubbles."

"Bubbles! Engaged?" The officer exclaimed, blowing air from his lips, "Time flies! I remember you being this tall—" He indicated a little past his knee, "—when your sister starting working for the Prosecutor."

Buttercup nodded her head, curtly, "Yep."

The officer smiled at her and reholstered his flashlight, "Well, you tell Ms. Bubbles I said congrats, ya hear me?"

"Alright, no problem." Buttercup nodded again, nudging into him, so he'd start backing away. The officer shot him a quick look before turning back to Buttercup. "And you keep this one in line, ya hear me." He told her as he wagged a finger in his direction. "It's about time you found some decent friends to hang out with." Officer Smith lectured, staring him down, before he addressed both of them, "Now, it's past curfew, you two need to head home."

Butch kept his mouth screwed shut, but Buttercup seemed to read his body language loud and clear because she threw him a nasty look before turning back to the officer.

"Sure, sorry, Officer Smith, we lost track of time." She apologized to the officer as she elbowed him into walking away, "I'll tell my sisters you said hi."

"Goodbye, Buttercup." The officer waved as he made his way back to his patrol car. "Butch." The officer nodded at him, giving him the once over again.

He rolled his eyes, turning away. "Fucking cops." He grunted, but when he looked over to his right, Buttercup was gone. "Hey, where—" He spun around looking for her, only to find that she was practically halfway down the block, "—Hey!"

Ignoring how sore he was, he jogged after her. She didn't bother to look at him as he knocked into her.

"Okay, three things—" He started, as he kept in step with her, and Buttercup heaved a heavy sigh. "One, how do you three know everyone in this fucking city?"

She shrugged, "Just do."

"Two, why do you just have a taser and mace on hand?"

"Because I'm a teenage girl, and I run at night."

"Yeah, soooo…"

"Sooo," Buttercup emphasized slowly with a dry look, "sex trafficking, rape. Teenage girls always seem to be a pretty hot commodity. Recent events should have probably tipped you off to that."

Butch stopped dead in his tracks for a moment and blinked, dumbfounded, "Oh right. Cause you're a chick. I, like, forgot about that."

"Yep." She agreed over her shoulder since she hadn't stopped to wait for him to process the obvious.

He jogged to catch up with her with a nod, "Guess that's smart then."

"Guess so." She muttered back and took a sharp left down a pathway he hadn't even known existed.

"And three," He slowed them down, rubbing the back of his neck, "uh, thanks, I guess, for back there."

"Which part?"

"All of it."

Buttercup looked past him towards where the cop car had been and then back at him with a shrug, "Don't mention it. Like, seriously, don't."

He nodded, and she turned away, going back to fast walking speed. He stumbled after her.

"So, where we going?"

"I'm going home. I don't know where you're going."

"Going home?" He repeated.

"Yep."

"But why—how! You can't just go home! Not after all that shit back there!" He speculated out loud, "Aren't you, like, pumped up?"

She sighed, "Nope. Are you going to keep following me?"

"Buttercup." He huffed, running in front of her to block her way, "dude, that shit back there was fucking badass, and I don't say that kind of shit lightly. I don't know whatever fucking voodoo god you're praying to every night, but it's working. You gotta—" he scrambled for anything his mind could come up with, "—you gotta, like, at least get something to eat with me for like, like, closure."

Buttercup stared up at him, her eyebrows pulling together, "Did…did you just ask me to hang-out?" She paused before clarifying, "With you?"

"Uhhh…" He frowned, his own eyebrows pulling together as he mulled over his previous statement, "huh?" He shrugged, "I guess I did."

Her frown deepened, and she pushed past him, "You should probably go to the hospital. Thick head or not, it was obviously hit a lot harder than you've let on."

He snorted and turned around to catch up with her, "I think I'm serious, though."

She looked him over again, "Seriously, you're starting to freak me out. Should I call 911?"

They made it out of the alley and emerged near a little corner before Townsville blended into the surrounding Pokey Oak County. There, like a beacon in the night, was Pops, a burger joint that he liked.

"Ha!" He proclaimed, pointing towards the 24/7 diner, "Come on!" He grabbed her by the elbow and began to drag her with him.

"Hey!" She protested, digging her heels into the ground as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp, "Cut it out!"

"Listen. We're getting a burger, whether you like it or not. Brick's treat."

She stopped her struggling and a raised eyebrow, "Your brother's paying?"

He rolled his eyes with a smirk before he pulled his older brother's debit card that he had stolen earlier that night from his back pocket and waved it in the air, "Duh."

She looked back over her shoulder towards the direction of her home, then over again towards him and the burger joint, "Welllll, if he's paying," She hummed, shrugging, "sure, why the hell not."

He laughed and dropped her elbow, "Good choice, Butterfingers, let's go."

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

I’m sorry if you hate it—I know the pacing’s a bit off and my dialogue punctuation needs work, but it’s been a crazy few days lmao and I just wanted to get this out ☹ if it’s absolute shit let me know and I’ll try writing you something else! Also, the body slam BC used on Big Billy is a move Jammers use in roller derby to get past blockers because, hint, in this world BC is “secretly” in roller derby. ((“Secretly” because her fam and Elmer knows, but no one else.)) I just suck at action scenes so it doesn’t come across well

#ppg prompt requests #my writing

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mavspeed · 4 years ago

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First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Hey @applesfallingfromblondehair, thanks for the tag love!! likewise i dont usually do this but this feels interesting so lets see if my ass has improved over the last few stories lmfkjgjk

also this will prob be a mix of xmcu fic + kingsman fic bc i think i have a more or less equal number of fics written for both

The first time Charles meets Lucifer Morningstar, actual devil from hell, ruler of the underworld, fallen son of the lord above and god knows what else, it had been after Erik had been sentenced to life imprisonment in the highest security cell in the Pentagon.

- this is from a professor and a devil walk into a bar, which is kinda a crossover rarepair fic that rose out of me and mutuals on twitter discussing tom ellis and james mcavoy being roommates and kinda... devolved from there. i am proud of this one lmfnjgkj

“Are you okay, Professor?” Hank asks quietly.

Charles blinks. He supposes it’s a valid question. He’s been in a bit of a funk the past few days- scratch that actually, the past few years. He’s just lost so much- his father, and then his mother’s love, and then Raven and Erik and Sean and countless others. Building a school, gaining students he loved to teach and nurture hadn’t helped him in the slightest, and he’s as lost as he ever was, wandering the halls of a drafty mansion alone, feeling like he’s been stranded at sea even whilst surrounded by people.

- from in the belly of the beast, which again came out of me wondering what would have happened if fox had gone w their original plan and charles had been that last horseman instead of erik. this story will prob gain a sequel... sometime in the near future when im not too bogged down by current wips

The Xavier family hall of the deceased- because of course they’re weird enough to have a cemetery- is full of rows upon rows of holograms. Charles is four and gets bored of his father crying over his mother’s hologram, so he toddles over to the other rows. Unfamiliar names, all of them- Charles is young, and he doesn’t understand death. He doesn’t even know who his mother is, who’d died at childbirth and left him with a father still at a loss when it came to bringing up a kid.

- from tequila on a spaceship, the sequel to a fic that still has some people angry at me i think. this fic never did gain as much traction as the first one but im still proud of it esp since it discusses certain themes of reincarnation that ive always wanted to see explored for myself in reincarnation aus (and i only ever saw it in danveresque’s reincarnation au)

There are cork boards covering every inch of the wall. Red strings, photographs, conspiracy threads, everything. Raven takes it in, swallowing, noticing the picture in the middle.

It’s one of Charles, when he’d been in university. His final year- he'd just been done presenting his year- end project, his fringe a tumbled mess and a bright smile on his lips. Erik had taken the picture, Charles scurrying to his side once he’d been done and demanding to look at the image, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. He looks like how Raven had always imagined him to be.

“He wouldn’t want this,” she finally says, turning to look at Erik.

- from tequila on a beach, the first fic to the fic above. this fic is v special to me because i actually wrote this on a spiral after having a very tough visit with one of my parents in the hospital after a surgery for organ removal to prevent the onset of cancer. its simpler than my other fics yet i think more powerful because of what happens. also i think the first time i killed charles off lol (spoiler alert). also idk if ppl were aware of this but this is called tequila on a beach precisely bc charles and erik were tipsy from tequila at a frat party and then went to a beach. its the way they first met (and will continue to meet for all their next lives)

Erik doesn’t know how it all started. Maybe it was when his insane sergeant had started rambling about imaginary cities, treasures of gold and cursed incantations. Maybe it was when trickles of rumours had started pouring down about the higher ups wanting to investigate unfound territory, disregard the Egyptian government’s feelings on the matter, and put a previously unfound myth on the map for all the world to see. Or maybe, Erik thinks, it was when archaeologist Klaus Schmidt put a bullet through his mother’s head and he ended up going to America armed with dual citizenship and the sole intent of wanting to drive a coin directly between Schmidt’s eyes, joining a division of the American military focused solely on guarding archaeological digs- more importantly, in Egypt, where Schmidt’s interest had shifted.

- from courting the end of the world, another one i’m just insanely proud of! this is the first time i’ve ever attempted a multichapter movie au and it actually managed to work pretty well, i at least haven’t run out of inspiration for it yet lmfjgjg. also erik as himbo rick connell... very rent free in my head

The day after they murder Shaw and leave his house of horrors, Erik crosses the Canadian border with Charles across his back. Charles had started getting tired while they’d been walking, stumbling and nearly tripping until Erik had forced him to get on his back, ignoring Charles’ protests.

The blood’s seeping out steadily from Charles’ nose, staining his shirt and soaking it through. It’s been leaking on and off, and the effects are already obvious in the dark circles beneath Charles’ eyes. Any more, and Erik knows they’ll have to find him a doctor. He hopes the nearest town in Canada has one that would be willing to treat them.

- from a world built for two. i actually dk where the inspiration for this came from, i think i was once again on a depressive spiral and wanted to break my comfort characters into pieces and put them together again. this also deals with codependency and unhealthy coping mechanisms as a result of trauma which i showed as sweet in the fic but i would def not recommend in real life. pls if u relate to either charles or erik in this go see a therapist

The call comes in the afternoon, an hour before Charles is supposed to teach his Intro to Genetics class. Frowning, Charles abandons the game of Candy Crush he’d admittedly been playing rather badly and picks it up. “Charles sp-”

“We need you, Prof,” Kitty says desperately into the phone. “He’s been in a temper all morning, and then Alex’s reports missed out a whole subsection, so he’s fired the entire marketing team! Please, Professor, you have to come immediately!”

- from and we can be pirates. i wrote this in like 4 seconds for my friend who wanted professor charles and ceo erik and actually did not expect this to gain the attention it did... its always the fics u write in like 4 seconds lmfjggj. a sequel for this Is coming too probably at some point in the very far future

Charles Xavier can admit as he sits across from Essex, hands cuffed to the desk, that in hindsight, this had perhaps not been one of his better ideas.

He refuses to admit it as he controls Erik’s mind, preventing him from lashing out and making him close his eyes to the nightmare unfolding in front of him. He refuses to admit it as he gets shoved into the back of a black pickup truck, and the butt of a gun is smashed across his forehead hard enough to knock him out cold for a few hours. He refuses to admit it when he wakes up what appears to be hours later in a cold interrogation room, hands cuffed to the table in front of him, with a suppression collar rendering his mind dark and almost achingly silent.

- from from the land of gods (bring me home). i’ve been struggling w this fic a lot (it didnt come as easily to me as the first one did) but its getting there. also i put charles through hell in this rip sorry mister xavier

In the aftermath, both of them stand at the border of the mansion. The air feels frigid, slicing into Raven’s lungs like a thousand paper cuts. “Charles, please,” she begs, heart in her throat and voice hoarse. “He wouldn’t want you to be like this. He wouldn’t want you to do this. It’s not too late, you can come back.”

Charles gazes back, a brick wall. He hasn’t even cleaned up, still in that damnable yellow and blue suit with blood drying in the corners of his mouth, the bridge of his nose. There’s nothing in his eyes- blank, almost see through. He looks as if he’s a mere shade, a ghost lounging about where he once was. Raven knows better.

“I will raze the world to the ground,” he finally says, his voice free of any inflection, “and when I’m done, no one will be left standing. Not you, and certainly not me.”

- from where all the poets went to die, a dark fic based on what would have happened if moira had killed erik with the bullets. its the first time ive written dark charles and it was v fun if im being honest

10.

Charles is a light sleeper. It’s a trait that stays with him- all the way from his father and the tests to taking care of his mother to Cain Marko and his fists to Cuba and then now, the dust of Washington settling over him and making the waking world lie an inch beyond his eyelids. It therefore stands to reason that the second the windowsill creaks he’s up in a shot, hoisting himself up and lashing out with his telepathy instantly.

That’s not a trait that had stayed with him. That’s a newly formed trait, bitter and bold, carved into existence by Cuba by his students disappearing one by one in Vietnam by the letters that announce Sean’s death in black unfriendly print by-

The tendrils of his telepathy forged cold and distant meet a barrier and recoil, stunned. He focuses his eyes and then widens them, staring at Erik who stares back, hidden beneath that infernal muddied magenta helmet of his. They stare at each other for a moment before Erik clears his throat.

- from in the valley of kings (you will come home). my first ever cherik fic! im actually also proud of this one even if i ended it horribly and half my mutuals refuse to read it bc of how it ended LMFJGJGJ. i cant believe this was supposed to be a funny and cute kid fic and then i turned it into an angst ridden mess. also leo is actually an oc whose adult version is fancasted as charlie rowe by me and another mutual on twitter and im v proud that readers are willing to die for the baby

11.

Mike has to google it, finding a crafts shop nestled into the corner of the street right smack in the middle of Louisiana, past a long and winding dirt road and the crumbling farmhouses relics of a time long past. The air is hot, humid, sticking to the back of his neck like an unwieldy parasite as he pushes the door of the shop open to the sound of the bell tinkling above.

He finds the origami paper quickly enough and has a momentary breakdown about what Bill’s favourite colour even is- he had never thought to ask him. Twenty seven years of following every single footstep of his like a dedicated, most definitely creepy stalker, three months of more than a few states traversed with Bill’s laughter now echoing in his ears like a shadow that trails after him, and this is what stumps him. It takes ten minutes, but he finally settles on light green.

- my first and last entry into the IT fandom bc i love these two but to be very fair there isn’t much content out there for him (and twitter content actually intimidates me lmfjgjjg) a thousand paper cranes never got much traction either but i suspect its bc i was horrible at promoting it. also i very much love this fic even if it never did that well bc ive always wanted to write a fic like this after watching the movie in cinemas in 2019

12.

ok nsfw i guess

Mornings start like this- Eggsy snuffling into David’s neck, attempting to work his way back up to wakefulness as David sleeps the sleep of the dead, the streams of morning sunlight gradually lightening up the room. It’s a while before he gets the energy to sit up, pushing an eager V off the bed- V for Vendetta, a kitten named after one of David’s favourite movies that they’d adopted about a month after moving in together- before stumbling to the loo. He’s already in the shower when David comes in, naked as the day he’s born with his arms entwining themselves around Eggsy’s waist as he murmurs a sleep-soft, “Good morning, love,” as he presses a kiss into the two-days-old hickey on Eggsy’s shoulder. His breath smells of toothpaste, the minty fresh kind he insists on buying from Target no matter how much Eggsy insists that the other brand is much better. Without fail, Eggsy always has a split second thought of thinking that he must truly be in heaven because no way can this be his reality, every single day, before sinking to his knees and allowing David’s cock to hit the back of his throat.

- from that’s the kind of love i’ve been dreaming of. i genuinely wish i had an opinion for this but i don’t remember writing this its been way too long

13.

The first time Eggsy sees her is in Trafalgar Square.

Trafalgar Square is uncomfortably packed on any normal day, but on New Year’s it is quite the hothouse. Sweating armpits and hot bodies plastered against each other, the twinkling lights overhead providing a flash of blue and green and yellow and red, screaming children and giggling teenagers shoving their way through- it’s a recipe for disaster. Eggsy doesn’t know how he ends up there. It happens sometimes- one second he blinks, sequestered in the comfort of his living room, and the next he’s somewhere else, as if he’s been teleported. “Life goes past you,” Tilde had said once, “and you don’t even notice.” Tilde would be right.

- this is a roxy and eggsy friendship centric fic that i abandoned bc i lost my ardor for this world about the same time i got into xmen lmfjgjg. all the king’s horses also had some great fancasts in it with dev patel fancasted too... rip ig

14.

once again, nsfw

Eggsy, truth be told, doesn’t actually like having sex in bathrooms. First of all, bathrooms generally have an unsanitary air about them. Besides that, the granite of the sinks always feel cold against his hips, there is the ever present fear of being walked in on and unlike what people might say, he actually really isn’t that much of an exhibitionist- and truth be told, he’s never liked the look of himself in the mirror mid coitus.

For David Budd, however, he suspects he might be up for anything.

- from do you ever dream of me. im actually proud of this fic and this series, i never usually write straight up porn or friends w benefits and i think it worked well in here. once again didnt get much traction but that was very of the norm for my kingsman fics lmfjgj

15.

It is on his fifth meeting with the therapist on site that she brings the issue up. The elephant in the room- or the bomb , David thinks morbidly. If asked, he can’t remember specifics about that day now. All he remembers is this- the burn of Julia’s picture in his wallet against his thigh, the Botticelli painting on the far wall and Miss Paulson’s face, severe and unsmiling.

“When you couldn’t reach Julia,” she says, after he finishes describing the feeling of running to Julia, the panic searing his chest as he’d prayed for his legs to work faster so he could do something, anything to reach her hand. “How did that make you feel?”

- from your haunted social scene. i genuinely... do not remember anything about this either helpfkjgjg,,, this has 55 comments tho which. Nice

16.

David brings her home on- in a move far too cliche for it to be reality- a stormy night. It’s in fact storming so hard the windowpanes shudder like leaves in the wind, droplets crashing against the glass in a cacophony so loud Eggsy more than once considers turning the radio all the way up to drown it out. He’d gone scrounging for David’s sweatshirts instead of his own halfway through, wincing intermittently at the flashes of thunder. At a particularly loud one JB had jumped up, squeaked in a very undoglike manner and skidded across the floor to cower beneath the sofa, only coming out when coaxed by Eggsy to do so. Officer Oatmeal had watched the proceedings from her regal place by the armchair, dozy eyed and blinking heavily.

- from a cat named lavender. from what i remember this was also my first try at bringing up trans eggsy

17.

He first appears at the black prince on a cold Monday evening, eyes like Frank Sinatra and lips arresting anyone’s gaze if they weren’t careful enough. He stood out too, clad in a respectable bomber jacket and boots that clicked against the tile rhythmically and loudly, a sort of organised, measured cacophony.

“Go and serve him,” Andrew said, fat and disinterested, seated behind the counter and idly flicking through bills, less than ten percent of which he pays Eggsy. “I’m busy.”

- from trust is left in lovers after all. i never continued this which is sad bc this did get a lot of attention... it was just v hard to keep the story going

18.

It usually rains cats and dogs in London but for some reason, the rain is heavier than usual today. The droplets splatter against the windows in a constant buzzing rhythm, the sound meshing together in a melody not altogether pleasant to the ears. It’s half past five and yet the light has to be kept on because that’s how dark the sky has gotten- thunder rolls like a loud crack, abrupt and deafening, causing Daisy to jump in her seat.

“Just a thunderstorm, flower,” Eggsy says. They’re seated at the dinner table, Eggsy going over her homework while David sits opposite them, hunched over his laptop as he attempts to finish a post mission report. Eggsy is half convinced he gave up ten minutes ago- he’s got his earbuds in and he hasn’t really typed anything in a while, eyes focused on the screen. His eyebrows are scrunched up in a glare that’s too adorable for his own good- and for Eggsy’s.

- from could feel like kryptonite. a lot of my kingsman fics are actually so much happier than my cherik ones... i should prob look into that rip

19.

“When you’re done lazing around you can come in, you dozy dog,” he tells Officer Oatmeal, who butts her nose into his knee. She’s the only one not on a diet in the house, Eggsy deeming her far too healthy and skinny to need one anyway. In fact, she’s under strict instructions by Eggsy to fatten up instead.

Once the animals are done feeding- Eggsy sporting a suspicious scratch on his left forearm- they settle down to eat their scrambled eggs and toast. David’s taken a large gulp of his scalding coffee when Eggsy says, all of a sudden, “So, I have a school reunion.”

- from gonna set this dance alight. don’t remember much about this either tbh

20. (the last one FINALLY)

It isn’t a big event or explosion that makes David realise he wants to see his father’s ring sitting pretty on Eggsy’s index finger. No teary confessions in the rain like in the rom coms Eggsy loves to rent out and sniffle his way through, or a fight that makes David see sense. In the end, it’s breakfast that cinches the deal for him.

The day had started out normally enough. David wakes up at eight like clockwork, the soft downy hair at the base of Eggsy’s neck tickling his nose with his arm locked tight around his waist. He’d yawned, exhausted- mostly because they’d stayed up very late into the night making good use of the bed- before standing up and shucking his shirt off to head for the shower. Eggsy had shifted in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible, and the sight had been too endearing to resist so he’d bent down, pressing a kiss to his forehead and smiling when Eggsy groaned out loud.

- from lover boy rules. i actually started a lot of my kingsman fics in the same way which is rather awful of me. im glad thats changed with my xmen fics lmfjgjk. also this has 15 comments???? i dont even get that much attention with my xmcu fics these days... which is arguably a more active fandom... Hello

anyway that’s the end of it needless to say i do not know 10 other authors so im just gonna tag whoever i know rn: @hellfre , @queerneto, @ikeracity, @drinkingstars, @zebraljb

#whew this is super long i apologise #u can pinpoint the exact time i replaced taron with james as my number one boy #fic tag #fic meme

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eevee-eclair · 4 years ago

Text

Freaky Fusion

Written by EeveeEclair

TW: Body horror(?), slightly unsympathetic!Janus, 13+ scene that you could skip over if you want (from “No I wouldn’t,” to “This time”) but it’s just kissing, (tell me if I missed one!)

Random side note: This was rushed and messy! I’m so sorry for this ending! I am not proud of this! (Maybe I’ll rewrite it bc I like this idea but I had to get it done :/) Also, thank you @lehuka123 for helping me place Regan’s second mouth!

~~~

Remus dragged Logan into the Imagination, giggling at Logan ignored protests to slow down. He finally stopped when they got to a small clearing that looked surprisingly normal, except for the few mythical plants.

Remus grinned. “Do you like it? I had Roman help!” He said, bouncing up and down in excitement.

Logan kissed him. “It’s perfect, Cephy. Now why did you bring me here, again?” He asked, looking around at the beautiful decorations clearly made by the lighter side of creativity.

“Take a guess!” Remus demanded, snapping in a picnic basket and a checkered blanket.

Logan sighed and smiled. “You wanted to have dinner with me?” He offered.

Remus shook his head, surprising Logan. “Nope! Take a look in the basket!”

Logan walked over and opened it. Inside was a bottle of wine and some desserts like a few slices of cake and chocolate covered strawberries. Logan looked over at Remus in shock. “How..?”

Remus giggled. “I had Patton help too! Everyone helped! Roman decorated, Patton cooked, Virgil made the blanket and made sure everything was safe, and Janus took over the role as Logic while you and I have fun,” he finished, wiggling his eyebrows.

Logan blushed. “O-oh… Remus, you didn’t have to do this,” he stammered. Remus gave a small pout and Logan sighed. “But, it wouldn’t hurt to take a small break, would it?”

Remus brightened and jumped at him, knocking him to the forest floor. “No it wouldn’t,” he told him, kissing him roughly.

Logan gasped a little before pulling Remus closer, kissing back. He let out a small whine as Remus bit his lip. Logan opened his mouth a little and Remus Immediately pushed his tongue in, sighing a little.

Logan pulled back for air quicker than he wanted to, gasping for breath. Remus grinned at how ruined Logan looked. His glasses were crooked and his tie was completely undone from all the tugging he did.

Logan finally got his breath back and he pulled Remus down for another round. Remus yelped a little but eventually he fell back into his rhythm of destroying Logan with his tongue.

This time, Remus broke away first. “Damn! You’re one hell of a kisser,” he mumbled, breathing deeply.

Logan blushed more. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Remus smiled and put their foreheads together. “I love you, Lolo,” he whispered.

Logan snorted. “I love you too, Cephy.”

Remus was about to comment on how he should be more creative and use a different nickname, but all that came out was a small yell as a bright light blinded them both.

Remus quickly shut his eyes and tried to get off of Logan, but he couldn’t move. The last thing he remembered was watching his hair fall into his eyes. Which was weird since his hair wasn’t long enough for that.

***

Logan opened his eyes. He sat up and rubbed his head, trying to remove the growing headache. Logan made a confused noise when he hit something metal. Pulling it off his head, he saw it was a pair of goggles.

“I don’t own a pair of goggles…” he said to himself. He gasped at how different his voice sounded. “Is that my voice? Is that my voice?!” He gasped.

Then he realized he couldn’t see Remus. “Remus? Remus where are you?!” He called, looking around.

At the same time, his neck opened up and let out a small curse. Logan screamed as so did the opening in his neck. Then it hit him.

“R-Remus..?” Logan whispered.

“Logan?!” The neck hole replied. “What’s going on?!”

Logan whined. “I don’t know! There was a bright light and then…” he trailed off, the answer hitting him like a fallen corpse hitting assfault. He cringed a little at the metaphor. “Remus, have you ever watched Steven Universe?” He asked.

“You mean the show with the gay rocks? Yeah, why?”

Logan swallowed. “I-I think we fused,” he mumbled.

“What?! What do we do?!”

“Let’s go find the others, they could know!”

“But what if they don’t?!”

“Then I don’t know!”

They continued to argue as Logan forced them to stand up. He gasped a little as how beautiful their fusion looked. He picked up the goggles and put them back on and dusted off their white lab coat.

“I’ll admit, we do look pretty sexy,” Remus commented. Thankfully, his voice has moved to the mouth and not the opening on his neck.

Logan nodded. “Agreed. Now, let’s go find… Roman. He’d take this the easiest.”

“That makes sense! To Roman!” Remus called, helping Logan walk out of the Imagination.

They found Roman in the living room with Virgil. He was teasing the emo about something when they walked in. Roman gasped as they came through the door and Virgil jumped behind the couch.

Patton and Janus walked in and Patton immediately hid behind Janus. “I take it the picnic didn’t go as planned?” Janus asked, catching on immediately.

They shook their head and Janus sighed. “Do you at least have a name?”

Logan and Remus didn’t think and said the exact same thing but with two mouths it sounded quite different. “Regan.”

Janus nodded. “At least that’s sorted.”

Roman finally got his voice back and groaned. “Ohhhh I get it now!”

Virgil pokes his head up. “I don’t! Someone explain!” He demanded, shaking.

Janus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It appears… Logan and Remus have… fused,” he said.

Virgil’s mouth dropped open. “How?” He whispered.

Regan shrugged. “Donno. Did you know that since frogs eat mosquitoes, there are frogs out there that have developed a taste for human blood?” He said, grinning.

Virgil blinked and closed his mouth. “Oookay…. So how do we fix it?”

Patton stepped out from behind Janus and smiled. “Simple! Get them to turn against each other!” He said.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “And you know this how?” He asked.

Patton went a little pink. “I watched a lot of Steven Universe and that’s how Ruby and Sapphire always broke apart! Most of the time, anyway,” he added.

Janus hummed. “It’s worth a shot,” he mumbled. “Logan,” he said a little louder, drawing attention to him.

Regan tilted his head. “Yes?”

Janus smirked, but he honestly felt bad about what he was about to do. “Remus once told me about how annoying your rambles are,” he lied smoothly.

Regan flinched a little. “He wouldn’t say that. Besides, you’re a liar so how can I trust you?” He said.

Janus walked closer. “Because now that I’ve been accepted, why would I need to lie? I’m self preservation now, I have a new purpose.”

Regan shook his head. “F-falsehood!” Logan said, his voice breaking through.

Janus knew he didn’t have to push any further since they would destroy themselves, so he stepped back as they fell apart in a flash of light.

Logan has tears running down his face. “You’re lying! It’s not true! You’re a liar!” He whispered over and over again.

Remus crawled over and hugged him. “He’s lying, Starlight! I love your rants!” He soothed.

Janus sighed and nodded. “I did lie, Logan. We had to separate you two somehow.”

Logan glared at him. “I liked being with him! Did you ever think of that?” He scolded, before sinking out to his room. Remus gave Janus a dirty look before following him out.

Janus sighed before walking back to the kitchen, leaving the other three extremely confused.

( @intrulogicalweek2020 )

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #intrulogicalweek2020 #intrulogical #fusion

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ragnarachael · 5 years ago

Text

the valiant arsonist — worry

Pairing: Loki x TVA Agent!Reader

Word Count: 2,273

Summary: You're not sure what to do with the new found information Loki's given you, and you meet what seems to be a new hire.

Note(s): this is part two of WHO KNOWS HOW MANY also the gif has nothing to do with the content of my fic,,,, i just love watching it and watched it for like.. 5 mins before adding it on here. (also shoutout to @klargreeves for their loki post about how he’s the reason behind Julius Caesar getting stabbed!! it’s mentioned briefly in this piece!)

file no. 1 file no. 2 (you are here)

"You're going to what?" You asked suddenly, panic starting to flood through your veins. Loki just stayed still, the smirk on his face still evident as the sunlight from the singular window beamed down onto his pale skin.

"You heard me, darling," he stated. "I don't believe it needs repeating."

You tried to form words, but every time you opened your mouth, shock took over and made you silent.

"Be sure to keep that mouth shut, pet, or I'll readily find another use for it," Loki quipped from his seat, his smirk only growing as you recoiled in disgust from his comment.

"Why would you be burning this place to the ground?"

"Is it not obvious? Your team has captured me. I would rather be out in the world continuing my personal vendetta and not continue to be locked up in this Hel you deem as your place of work." You blinked at the God as you started to slowly stand from your seat. "I thought your kind were smarter than this."

"Well," you started, stepping around your chair to push it back in how you found it as you tried to ignore the gravity of his reply. "We are."

Loki scoffed out a laugh that definitely shook you to your core. "Now that, I beg to differ, darling. Just because you are simply a researcher does not mean you're knowledgeable."

To say that his comment hurt you would be an understatement.

"Stop with the nicknames. Just—Just stop," you demanded weakly, taking in a shaking breath as you tried to stand up straight, squaring your shoulders again. "Is there anything else you have planned?"

"Like I would tell you," Loki replied easily, the smirk finally going away to be replaced with a venomous smile.

You sighed quietly and found your hands rubbing your face for a moment.

"This has been... enlightening," you finally began, forcing a kind smile at Loki. "Thank you for your response, Loki. We'll be in touch."

You turned to leave before you could even get a reply, twisting the doorknob and pressing against the door again once you were on the other side, feeling like you could finally, finally breathe clean air.

Loki was quick to get under your skin and make you even more anxious about speaking with him than you were to begin with. Maybe that's what he had as powers.

Maybe.

Or, perhaps he was just a huge prick from some kind of family of Gods.

Regardless, you had little time for recovery as you could hear the radio's the security guards used coming from the opposite end of the hall. So, you pulled yourself together and made it seem like you were checking on the guards to see that they were back from their break.

After giving a brief welcome back to the men you smiled and walked back into the sea of desks, easily navigating to your own before looking through your small stack of files to dig up your research.

Loki's voice was still echoing in your head.

I'm going to burn this place to the ground.

It still made you shudder, even thinking about the smirks and smiles he gave you when you two conversed. Frankly, you could feel the hair on your arms standing up just thinking about it.

This also made you realize that no one noticed where you had gone. It was suspicious for sure. Everyone who worked at the TVA knew who was doing what at all times.

Maybe you were actually sneaky enough.

You grabbed a pen and started to manually write down everything you could remember from your visit with Loki, ignoring the painful scratch of the pen tip against the paper as your writing speed picked up.

Once you had finished transcribing the conversation in your notes, it finally crossed your mind that you were right.

Loki is planning something. And your director didn't believe you.

You could tell her, but that was at the cost of admitting how you got that information...

Or, you could just sit back and watch what would happen while the rest of the group figured a plan of attack to get Loki to talk and admit to his actions.

Sighing, you closed your research files and started to reach for the file that held all of Loki's time disturbances, deciding that you should brush up on the information and not actually believe anything this man says.

He is a criminal, afterall.

The manila folder was thick. Thicker than you remembered from the first time you had discovered the slight disruptions in the multiverse, and you wouldn't be too shocked if there was another folder to accompany the first one.

Upon opening the folder, you saw what little profiling the TVA had on Loki. It was stapled to the left side of the cardstock, all printed in black and white ink. Your eyes drifted to the technical mugshot that was taken of Loki the day you caught him and could feel fear starting to bubble in your stomach.

He had that devious smile as he stared right into the camera. Next to the mugshot was the simple basic identification questions, but next to race, place of birth, family, and species there were question marks followed by unknown.

At least you knew that he could most certainly be a God.

After eyeing the rest of the document, you turned your direction to the stack of papers that were attached to the right side of the folder, looking at the neon green sticky note on the top.

"All known time disturbances for inmate 60383," you easily read aloud off the sticky note before lifting the sheet it was stuck on to see another sheet full of images and handwritten descriptions. "Oh my god.."

You don't know how the pictures were taken or even who took the pictures (let's be realistic, it was probably the Chronomonitors up stairs), but it looked like the Theatre of Pompeii.

From 44 BC.

Your mind made the connections immediately, noticing the Greek architecture and the pictures varying with men of all sorts stabbing another man.

It was the Ides of March. Well—March 15th. The day Julius Caesar was stabbed 23 times.

Loki was behind that assassination, because of course he was.

As you continued in his files, you found that he was actually behind a lot of mishaps in history.

Including but not limited to: causing the French Revolution in 1789, The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand—also the assassination of Alexander The Great's father—and many, many more things that just so happened to change history in the universe.

It was giving you a headache, learning everything he's accomplished in such a short time. It's like mischief was his job.

"Wait a second," you mumbled to yourself, twisting in your office chair slightly to click around on your computer screen to open a search engine. Once you opened the first search engine your mouse could find, you typed in Norse Mythology and waited for the screen to load. Your computer was taking ages, which let you have your eyes wander on your desktop before catching the time in the upper right hand corner of your computer screen.

It was 12:30 in the afternoon.

Cursing quietly you were quick to get up from your seat, almost forgetting to close the loading window of your search as you grabbed your jacket that you tossed on the corner of your desk forever ago when you came in at 6 this morning.

"Okay, jacket, wallet—" you let your hand slip into your back pocket, feeling the plastic edge of Travis's I.D. as you pulled it out of the pocket. You've never been faster to shove something deep within the confines of a random desk drawer, cursing as you grabbed your car keys in rapid succession before practically flying through the sea of desks provided by the TVA officials.

The elevator was... calming. In a way. Smooth jazz playing on the speakers followed by occasional dings that signified what floor you were passing.

Until you were stopped on the 13th floor of the building, a man stepped in. He was tall, short dirty blond curls resting pristinely on his head. His hair actually looked to be borderline auburn thanks to the lighting in this metal deathtrap, you noted. You also noticed he was dressed up in an almost similar get up as you were that researchers were required to wear in the office.

The two of you gave awkward yet kind smiles to each other as he stepped in, hands in his jean pockets.

"Uh, what floor?" You asked softly, gesturing to the panel you were standing close to. The man glanced at the board.

"Same floor as you," he replied with the same tone.

He had an accent. A british accent. He reminded you of someone from Earth-199999, and you couldn't put your finger on it.

All you did was nod in reply before letting your hands go into your jacket pockets, redirecting your gaze to the elevator doors as the beeping started to continue as you passed floors.

After passing floor ten, you started to actually look closely at the man.

His jawline looked like it was structured by some higher power, and if you were to try and even touch you'd have cut something open. His stubble dusted over the sharp edges, though. It looked a lot softer than it might if he were clean shaven—which with the policies in the TVA, would be soon—and frankly, you'd like to see it.

It's almost like he looked like—

"Tom Hiddleston!" You exclaimed, finally making the connection in your brain.

"I beg your pardon?" The stranger asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Sorry, it's just," you started, laughing awkwardly, "you look a lot like this famous actor from Earth-199999. Tom Hiddleston."

"Oh," he started while shifting on his feet, seeming to step closer to you. "He's in that one show on Broadway, isn't he?"

"Yeah, uh, Betrayal I think it's called? I can't remember. It's been ages since I've looked at those files from that case forever ago."

There was a brief pause between the two of you before you took a breath and decided to introduce yourself, holding out your hand as you tried to relay your name without the awkward tone you still had in your voice.

The man smiled again and let one of his hand out of his pocket to shake your own. "Jonathan."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, not Tom Hiddleston—"

"Don't start that," Jonathan groaned playfully, the both of you sharing a laugh. "Are you part of Director Love's team?"

You nodded as you recovered from giggling in your corner of the elevator. "Yeah."

"She's really a piece of work."

"Yeah, but she gets her missions done," you replied easily, looking up at Jonathan. "Are you with Director Wilson?"

Jonathan looked confused for a moment before shaking his head, "no, no. Director Mills."

"Ah. Heard he's a tough guy."

"He's like the drill sergeant I've never had."

The two of you shared a laugh again before a comfortable silence took over the space. The jazz music seemed to have stopped playing now, which confused you slightly before Jonathan spoke up again.

"I don't mean to be rude or.. or break the rules, but what's your current mission about? Isn't it with that Loki guy?"

You hesitated for a moment. Why would you tell Jonathan anything about your mission? You've never seen him around before, let alone get told about him period. He seemed like a new hire. Newer than you.

That alone made you want to slam one of the buttons on the elevator wall so you could get off to avoid this whole topic.

And yet, you nodded, still under his curious gaze as you took a deep breath.

"Yeah. Inmate 60383. He's.. He's, well," you exhaled uneasily, letting out a weak laugh, "he's definitely something."

Jonathan didn't seem to like that answer enough.

"Something? What is that meant to mean?" He sounded like he was offended on Loki's behalf. You couldn't help the look you gave the man. It was a mix of confusion and offense.

"If you tried to interrogate him, you'd get it." You let out a sigh as you could feel the tension rise between the two of you, the elevator finally getting to the first floor of the building. The usual automated voice rung out in the metal box, announcing arrival to the first floor before the doors opened.

You were quick to get out, Jonathan following behind as he called your name. He probably noticed he struck a chord with his question.

Luckily, you were the only two in the main lobby of the TVA building as he kept trying to get your attention.

You grabbed the handle to the doors that led to the parking lot, turning around to look at Jonathan who seemed to look apologetic as he said your name one final time.

"I-I'm sorry for my comment. Really. I just want to know more about Inmate 60..."

"60383," you finished for him, part of you thinking you should be feeling skeptical about this whole situation.

"Yeah. 60383."

"Well," you started, letting your hand fall from the door handle, "I can't tell you anything, it's protocol. And I'd like to keep my job."

And with that, you threw open the main door to the building and walked out to the parking lot to head to your car and finally meet up with Travis for lunch.

#loki odinson x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki x reader #loki odinson #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel writer #marvel writing #loki drabble #loki #rachael writes #tva #tva agent!reader x loki

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astralastrid · 5 years ago

Text

USUK/UKUS survey by @americapersonified

Tagged by @hariible so here we go!

In what decade did they officially become involved?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

The fics have ruined me. So I'd probably say during or after WWII. Plus that's when the "Special Relationship" was coined.

Who tops? (USUK or UKUS?)

*Looks at the UKUS server I made* idk you tell me

Honestly though Arthur probably has more relationship experience, so he's more confident and willing to take the lead. Alfred is actually secretly shy and modest about this stuff! (I mean, I do think we Americans are more conservative and modest when it comes to romance?) Plus like, Alfred finally feels like he can trust someone and let them take care of him, that he's loved when the whole world mocks him... Whoops got a little angsty there

Was either of them a virgin before their first hookup?

It's time for me to unveil my demi!America headcanon that's just me projecting aw yeah

Alfred is. He actually thought he was ace before he met Arthur because he was never interested in that kind of stuff, preferring to cuddle instead. But once he met Arthur he trusted that he'd take care of him and stuff and wanted to try it.

If not, to whom did each lose his virginity?

Alfred to Arthur.

Arthur to? Idk Francis probably? I do see FrUk as like, a past thing. Along with SpUk and PortEng. So one of them probably.

(Read more bc LONG post)

Are they more patient with each other in private, or do they bicker/tease each other all the time?

Haha projection time 2.0

Bro, like, a good relationship should have teasing anyway (unless your partner isn't ok with it!) so definitely. But Alfred actually gets self-conscious about the things that Arthur teases him about so he has to stop and tell him how much he loves him and stuff. But in general they're more patient because they've come to understand each other and love the other's quirks.

Will they ever get married?

Yeah but after a while. Alfred wants to do it right away but Arthur rejects him, saying that the don't need rings to prove that they love each other. He promises he will eventually. I like to think after gay marriage legalized in the States they celebrated by getting married.

If so, where will the wedding be held? (Add other details if you wish.)

Hopeless romantic Ame time!

Can you have more than one ceremony? No? Oh well. Summer wedding in America, Fall Wedding in England. I don't know much about wedding planning but I read a headcanon that was like "their vows were so beautiful it made everyone cry" and I support that. Both of them cry during the other's too. Lots of tears shed on both sides during everything. Lots of white and silver and gold because yeah. None of this stupid "one of them wears a dress" business. Like, it's ok for a relationship to be masc/masc and fem/fem like don't heteronormalize it. So two tuxes. Probably no "walking down the aisle?" Maybe they both come in from the sides idk. A cheer when they kiss. "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis is their first dance. Arthur probably sings "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" after their first dance. Wedding cupcakes is galaxy brain so wedding cupcakes. Multiple flavors.

At whose house do they most often stay together?

Alfred's. It's larger anyway.

Do they refer to each other by their nation names or human names?

Human names. Nation only for business.

What pet names do they have for each other?

Arthur: Love, (The most common one) Darling, Dearest, Dear, Poppet (2nd most common) Alfie (extremely rare, or when drunk. Alfred adores when he calls him this though.)

Alfred: Babe, Baby, Artie, Art, Honey, Sweetie, Sweetiepie, Sweetheart, Sweetcheeks.

Who drives?

Both, Alfred loves to drive! But Arthur gets nervous because Alfred can drive like a New Yorker, (that is, aggressively, quickly, a bit dangerously, lots of honking from him and others) especially when he's in a rush or late, and god help everyone when he has road rage.

So Arthur judges the mood and insits if he knows Alfred is probably gonna drive like that.

Is Alfred good at making Arthur’s tea?

Dude of course. It's never quite perfect of course, but you don't date someone for decades without learning how to make their lifeline. In this vein Arthur also knows how to make Alfred's coffee. (And since this isn't a question, Alfred likes it blacker than black in the mornings, and all sugared and creamered up after work and in the evenings.)

It’s universally accepted that Arthur sucks at cooking. Does Alfred enjoy cooking? Is he good at it? Or does he usually stick to McDonald’s and fast food?

Ok yeah but I headcanon Arthur can bake, like really well. Ok yeah I know about his scones but maybe he's just bad at making those specifically.

Alfred loves to cook. He loves to grill even more. But he likes to experiment and try new stuff and he's damn good at it (because cooking is just another science!) So his meals are like comfort food. Almost restaurant quality. Boy could be a chef. But he also loves his fast food and instants. (Kraft's Mac and Cheese is so good.) And yeah he loves Mickey D's but have y'all ever been to like, Noodles and Company or Sonic? Like, there are some GOOD fast food joints and I'm sure he loves them all. Arthur probably doesn't like burger joints but does like places like Panera.

Do they shower together? (Often; not specifically for sex.)

Sometimes? Idk man it's hard as shit to wash your back so yeah? Also the tenderness of giving your lover a bath? I'm🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Who smells better? (In your opinion.)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

People just smell like, people, and to the other they each smell like home.

How vocal are they in bed?

Alfred’s so LOUD lmao. But Arthur loves it. If he was more of a memelord he'd record and make a remix of his sounds.

Who has the more active libido?

Definitely Arthur.

Is spending time together easy, or are they forced apart for long periods at a time?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I don't know how politics work? Do important government officials have to be there in person for meetings?

Let's have two senarios here:

Let's say they do, and they have to be apart for periods of time. Both the boys have separation anxiety and HATE being apart, so there's always the fear and the paronia and concern when they are apart, and they have almost daily video chats. It's really hard on both of them. They text and call often too. They miss the other dearly. When they reunite they kiss and cuddle like they need it to survive. They're much more affectionate with each other and spend every moment they can together to "recharge" before the "hyper-affectioness" goes down. Leaving is super difficult. Lots of tears and hugs, promises to be back asap, longful stares and apologies. Cursing their job and such. Desire to quit or face the consequences and just stay. (Which is completely blocked by the other.)

Let's say somehow they work something out and they can spend long amounts of time together with minimal travel. Sometimes they get into fights or just get on each other's nerves or just need some alone time. Alfred will go run or excercise while Arthur goes to a café until they're ready to make up/miss and want to see the other. Business trips help keep tensions low, but they're still painful.

Are they wealthy? Or do they live modestly?

I’d say like average people. Arthur probably likes it a bit more tasteful and stylish though, so little hints of wealth. Also, Arthur basically has a library for his book collection that acts as his study and Alfred has his own study and a gaming room. They have the prettiest garden you ever did see though. And a really nice patio. With a nice backyard and grill.

For Alfred specifically: Glasses on or glasses off?

On! Except in the bedroom.

How often do they break up?

Rarely if at all. They probably did once and missed the other so badly that they promised never to do it again, and always talk it out. Sure they get into fights and one of them will storm off, but they both understand that that usually means the other needs to cool down before they can talk.

Open relationship?

No.

Did Arthur actually care for Alfred before the American Revolution?

I really want to say yes, because of how it was portrayed, but honestly? I don't think the U.S. was any different from England's other colonies. He'd occasionally check up on all of them, but he was super surprised at how fast America grew.

Of course once the war happens he's riddled with regret. Maybe if he treated him better this wouldn't have happened. War with a colony for their independence is ugly anyway. Even after the war, I don't think England was as heartbroken as it was portrayed. I think he was depressed about it for a while, but eventually got over it. It still took him, like any colonizer, a while to see him as an equal though, which infuriated America. However they are both completely over it and don't talk much about it anymore. It's all in the past for them.

@milopottz (I know we don't interact but 👀)

Tag people if you want, so

Also @alifeasvivid and @anyone who wants to

#whew! long post over #long post #tagged #usuk #ukus #this was fun though

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rockcandyshrike · 4 years ago

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28 & 29 (Pride and Children) w/ Spiritassassin!

Jordan I love you and can always rely on you to give me the energy and inspo to write cute shit. Have 1302 words I spat out in between work (which is the reason this took me 2 weeks to fill bc clients are emotional vampires). I’m gonna throw this up on AO3 too after i figure out a fucking title

Baze had wept at the first Naming.

He would grumble into his sage’s beard that he was “too old to cry like a babe” whenever Chirrut brought it up, but on that bright Taungsday morning when Hegu and B’asia Vanwi pressed a tiny bundle of hopes and dreams and newborn wrinkles into his arms with a shy, “We named him Baze...”

Baze the Elder had teared up faster than a busted sprinkler and Baze the Younger, a sympathetic crier like his namesake, followed suit with a piercing squall that could shatter the heavens. Chirrut remembers the Force singing around them brighter than winter skies as B’asia took the cantankerous infant back, Baze turning his face to hide his sniffles into Chirrut’s shoulder as he wrapped an arm around his verklempt husband and teased the Vanwis about naming the next one after him.

Chirrut chuckles at the memory while he leans against the kitchen counter, rubbing green camphor balm onto his creaking joints. The weather on Ilthon, the small Outer Rim planet where the Jedhan survivors had settled and established Little Jedha, isn’t as harsh as it was on Jedha, but age is catching up with him and his body complains more than it used to—though not as much as Baze’s. He tilts his head and listens through the open lace-curtained window to his husband teaching Baze Vanwi the difference between weeds and borro shoots. A gaggle of neighborhood children that the two Guardians frequently babysit are playing Jedi on the other side of the backyard, clacking sticks against each other sharply and shouting “vvoom vvoom! Force push!” in loud, excited voices. Chirrut smiles with the purest happiness in the universe.

Hegu and B’asia had indeed named their next child after Chirrut, a healthy bouncing baby girl who had shot out of her mother so quickly, B’asia had nearly delivered her in the hospital reception room. Somehow, it had set off a trend amongst the other survivors, and now, almost a decade and a half after the founding of the New Republic, there are seven Bazes and six Chirruts causing havoc in Little Jedha, not including the originals. There’s also a Chirze and a Barrut, but they prefer to be called Qi and Bear. Most of the children go by nicknames, so when a person talks about Chirrut and/or Baze in Little Jedha, it’s generally assumed they’re referring to the Guardians who had helped lead and shape their enclave into what it was today. But Chirrut (Jaesa) Vanwi, AKA CJ, is indisputably the leader of the pack whacking each other with sticks at the moment; Chirrut can hear her hollering commands like a certain princess-general.

Baze comes inside for a drink, leaving Zee, Ace, Flori (not her twin sister Tori) Rook and CJ’s older brother Bao to theoretically “tend” the garden; though really, Zee is making triple-tier mud cakes, Flori is overwatering the tulips, Bao is preoccupied with counting seeds, and Ace is dueling snails with Della Gimm.

“Working hard or hardly working?” Chirrut playfully gibes his husband as he brushes past him to the sink, dropping a kiss to Chirrut’s temple as he snags his empty mug to refill with tea like the thoughtful, wonderful Force-blessing that he is.

“What are you smiling like a dope for?” Baze retorts, shuffling through the pantry for his favorite tin of tea.

Chirrut quirks a brow, but his shit-eating grin doesn’t budge an inch. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Baze snorts at him, equal parts exasperation and fondness as always, and Chirrut turns his ear towards it out of instinct, an instinct carved into his soul since their first meeting. “To answer your question, herding these children is harder than any duan trial I've ever endured. Leru tried to shove a rock up xer nose twice, and Bunny almost stabbed Ruto with a trowel after she threw some grass at her.”

“Ah, young love,” Chirrut reminisces, “I remember it well.”

“Hardly,” Baze scoffs in faux derision pouring the electric kettle into the Ewok mug Jyn had gifted him as a joke. “One of these days, she’s going to break Ruto’s nose.”

“She’s Vobati, darling, they don’t have noses."

“One of these days, she’s going to break whatever Ruto has that’s analogous to a nose," Baze corrects himself while he hands a steaming mug to Chirrut, settling next to him against the counter.

Chirrut laughs at his husband’s obstinance and lightly shoves him in the shoulder with his own. “They’re not so different from us, and you and I have been together for over 50 years."

“I have tolerated you for over 50 years,” Baze grouses behind his mug, but Chirrut can feel the gravitational presence of his husband’s dark eyes focused upon him, his aura in the Force going softer than powdered sugar on kiss-puffed lips, wrapping around him the way clouds embrace mountain peaks.

“And you will into eternity,” he chirps gaily and quaffs an obnoxious slurp of his tea.

Baze opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by an unholy blood-curdling screech from the backyard. Their heads whip around towards the sound on high alert, hands going to where their weapons would rest, but relax when they hear CJ yell, “I’M OKAY!”

“That child…” Baze mutters under his breath, soothing his racing heart with a sip of first flush silverio.

Chirrut laughs again, a wry tinge to the upswing as he rubs his husband’s back. “She's a weapons-grade firecracker.”

“Of course she is, she was cursed with your name.”

"I have the medkit right here for the inevitable bloodshed." Chirrut taps the recycled cookie tin next to him. “Stocked full of X-wing bandaids and tooth-rotting suckers.”

Baze takes another sip and sighs deep enough to open up a sinkhole beneath them. “I’m too old to be chasing after an entire legion of Chirruts.”

Light dances like a flurry of snow in Chirrut’s eyes as he trails a hand up Baze’s neck to his weathered face, drawing worshipful fingers along the aged crisscrossing lines, his sagging jowls pockmarked by shrapnel scars from shielding Chirrut with his body on Scarif, before giving him a gentle patronizing pat on the cheek. “I’m more concerned about the little pride of Bazes outside. If we’re not careful, they might just eat up all the dirt.”

“It’s part of a healthy diet,” Baze snarks on cue and Chirrut cracks up.

He’s caught slightly off-guard when Baze catches his chin in one hand and swallows his laughter with a kiss that resonates through his bones sharp and brilliant as kyber, a kiss that would have set him aflame when they were younger; Chirrut yields to it blissfully, the only thing in the universe he’ll surrender for.

A chorus of “Eeeeeeeewwww!” shrills behind them and Chirrut snickers as Baze drops his head to sigh into his shoulder, beleaguered yet amused. Chirrut hands him his mug and he takes it readily.

Chirrut gives him one more kiss, then flips his staff into his hand and turns with a roar, “Foolish little Jedi, your power cannot match a Sith’s!”

The children shriek delightedly as Chirrut stomps into the backyard with his shirt pulled over his head like a fool and Baze watches from the doorway, content as can be.

He glances at the calendar by the wall-chrono and smiles when he remembers what’s planned for next weekend. Althin had almost exploded with joy when he asked them to attend the Naming of his first child, the young man standing even taller than Baze but fidgeting like he was eight years old again when he handed them the invitation. Althin’s partner is also Rodian, but Baze has a gut feeling they won’t be giving their firstborn a traditional Rodian name.

Baze leaves himself a reminder to bring tissues.

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panharmonium · 4 years ago

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@merlinobsessionist you understand me on a spiritual level

[putting the rest of this under a cut because it just ended up being me grumping at length about fandom trends - which, yes, i am well-aware is a silly endeavour in all cases, but sometimes you just gotta have your little grump regardless, you know, for health reasons. X) and in this particular case the grumping is probably relevant/entertaining only to myself, and you, and one or two other people here, so, tucking it away to spare everyone’s dash :) ]

the other day i was exploring the mostly abandoned wasteland that is the merlin fandom on livejournal (since that’s my original fandom home and obviously i missed out on being involved in that particular niche of lj when merlin was active, so i was feeling nostalgic and kinda curious as to it had looked like) - i stumbled over a merlin fic-finders comm and looked up my boy william just for kicks, and surprisingly, a couple of the old requests sounded like maybe i WAS involved in the merlin fandom on livejournal back then and i just don’t remember it

i think i wrote this in a past life

this is an eleven year-old comment in a mostly defunct fandom community but i felt it in my BONES

oh, my dear commenter from 8 years ago, i WISH XD

it made me laugh, and then it made me grumpy, because obviously there were very few suggestions offered in response to these asks - the fics just don’t exist, not in any numbers.

and like, the thing is, i don’t particularly care about the shipping side of things for the most part; i always lean towards gen and that’s mostly been it, for me; that’s always been my MO in every fandom i’ve ever participated in, but - look. if i have to witness (*checks ao3*) 23,830 (twenty four thousand. twenty four THOUSAND!!!!) instances of merlin getting together with arthur hecking pendragon, over and over and over again, in every AU configuration under the sun, then you had better believe i am ready and willing to plead the case of the only person in the merlin-verse who did not think arthur pendragon deserved merlin’s entire life.

and of course, there’s nothing inherently wrong with arthur and merlin as an item, obviously (i mean, i can name a few things about it that don’t appeal to me personally, but that is not the same thing as a value judgment) and everybody should have fun with their own ships, always - but for me, personally, there is just...enough of that out there. i have seen Enough. it’s hard for me to even determine where the rest of the fandom is, under the ever-present spread of merlin/arthur content; a picture of merlin/arthur should literally be next to the dictionary entry for steamroller.

and of course, i knew it would be like this from the beginning, and i know complaining about the ubiquitousness of a particular ship in fandom is utterly silly, in the end, because it’s not like there’s anything wrong with something being ubiquitous - the whole point of fandom is to make what you love, and if that’s what everybody loves, well, hey, that’s just how it is! that’s what people should be making - the stuff they love! that’s what fandom is here for! i only mutter to myself in the bubble of my own blog because the ubiquitousness makes it almost impossible for me to find what *i* love, because i don’t want to read about arthur/merlin in the first place, no matter who else appears in the fic, and also because my fave minor character, while he gets a pretty good amount of fannish screentime for someone who showed up in one episode, also suffers from the curse known as “virtually everything he features in is actually about merlin and arthur getting it on”

like - by the numbers, when you exclude merlin/arthur from will’s character tag, will retains less than 20% of his fics, some of which are already like...you know, he’s dead, or just mentioned, et cetera.

and his poor ship tag...he and merlin have 136 fics in their tag, and at first you wanna look at that and be like - ‘hey, not bad, pal, that’s p. good for a rarepair!’ but in actuality, less than 20 of those fics are actually about him and merlin. like...12% of his own ship tag actually belongs to him, and the rest is him being used as a plot device to get arthur and merlin together.

and i am sure that a lot of other side characters probably suffer from this, too, given the general fic distribution in this fandom, though the only person i’ve looked at for comparison purposes is freya, who is a (mostly) one-ep character like will. she, despite that, doesn’t appear to get hit quite as hard - she seems to keep more of her fic for herself, which is nice (when i exclude merlin/arthur from the freya/merlin search, freya still retains about 65% of her fics, as opposed to will’s sad little 12%). i’m glad for her, though - she of all people does not need to be losing fic to arthur; she has suffered enough.

to put things in perspective, though - merlin and uther have more fics in their ship tag that earnestly focus on the tagged....hnhhmgnhn i can’t say it...relationship than merlin and will do - even filtering out every instance of dubcon/noncon.

(and yes, i did in fact want to die when i had to actually click the merlin/uther tag on ao3 in order to check that factoid, thanks for asking.)

so, that said - i don’t generally read canon-era fic anyway, when i’m actively writing for a fandom, but since the merlin fandom sometimes feels like it consists solely of modern AU’s anyway, all i am trying to say is that it would be nice if i could pick up an AU including a character i enjoy without seeing him constantly reduced to:

merlin’s loser ex

merlin’s abusive ex (w h at)

merlin’s ex who’s kinda sorta tolerable-ish, maybe, if you squint, but just ultimately Not Right for merlin - holding merlin back, or being too overbearing, or too pushy, or Just Not Enough - or being someone who merlin stays with only bc he’s familiar and merlin’s settling for something safe and unrisky and stagnantly unfulfilling

the dude who merlin cheats on to be with arthur

the dude who cheats on merlin, bc the fic needed a reason to break up merlin and will so that white-knight!arthur could swoop in (cue me shouting ‘IN WHAT UNIVERSE DO YOU THINK WILL WOULD EVER - ’)

the dude merlin “makes mistakes with” when things with arthur aren’t going well

the friend-with-benefits who’s apparently chill with a casual arrangement, thus keeping himself conveniently out of the way of the oncoming merlin/arthur train

the friend-with-benefits who’s secretly NOT chill with a casual arrangement and who’s pining for merlin, except we all know that ain’t ever going anywhere because arthur exists, and in the meantime merlin only ever gets together with will to try and forget his problems

the friend-with-no-benefits who’s still pining for merlin (which situation, i might add, would be read completely differently if it were arthur in will’s shoes, because if that were the case then the audience would 100% be rooting for him)

the “best friend” whose only purpose in fic is to provide space for conversations/debriefs about merlin’s relationship/pre-relationship with arthur (like - i’m sorry, but there desperately needs to be some type of bechdel-esque test for will; e.g. do will and merlin have a conversation about something other than arthur pendragon? if yes, u win, u may pass go, collect 20 dollars, congratulations)

the friend whose dislike of arthur always, ALWAYS ends up being framed as a mistake. as will’s stubborn unwillingness to give arthur a chance, until at last will sees the light and succumbs to the irresistible beauty of merlin and arthur’s eternal love. -_- there is vanishingly rare acknowledgement in fic of the fact that in the canon universe, all of the criticisms will makes about merlin and arthur’s relationship are not only accurate, but made in merlin’s best interests (and also, ultimately, proven right, by the end of the show - merlin tanks his whole damn life for a series of empty promises prophesying arthur pendragon’s future potential, and he gets NOTHING for his devotion. merlin is more alone at the end of the show than he was at the beginning, when his only dream was to be loved and accepted by more than the two people who’d comprised his entire life up until that point. and he spends at least half a decade in between the show’s hopeful beginning and its miserable end being told that he’s evil by the very person for whom he is expected to sacrifice his future.

so what, exactly, makes will so wrong to be wary? who among us wouldn’t be angry if we saw somebody we loved being forced to sacrifice themselves on an unforgiving altar like this?

i don’t know the answer. i’m not sure what it is that earns will his spot on the “destined to be shafted for arthur pendragon” list. i don’t know if it’s an unconscious backlash to will’s refusal to hop on the arthur/merlin train, or if it’s just a superficial understanding/lack of genuine interest in his character, which, in that case, sure, i’ll give people that one, in all fairness; not everyone has spent a year picking his character apart (though i still don’t think it justifies tossing him in there just because the fic needs a random insert who can be positioned as inferior to arthur’s gloriousness). either way, the end result is that we usually end up seeing a will who has very little in common with his source material, or who needs to ultimately step aside to make way for arthur - arthur, who never displays the same level of care toward merlin in canon that merlin shows toward him, and who actively oppresses merlin’s people for the entire duration of their relationship.

like...it’s all just fic, obviously, and we can make characters as OOC as we want; have fun; go wild. but at the same time, it’s impossible for me not to balk at how arthur in some of this fic is just - utterly unrecognizable. in comparison with fic!will, arthur is the most Solicitous, Gentle, Understanding, Deeply Concerned, Invested-In-Merlin’s-Welfare-and-Inner-Thoughts creature you ever did see, and I’m just over here like - it is not like that! it is NOT LIKE THAT! IT HAS LITERALLY NEVER BEEN LIKE THAT. arthur pendragon in fic sometimes interacts with merlin like - he tilts his head and listens like a therapist and affirms absolutely everything merlin says and tells him ‘gosh, i understand. tell me more. how can i help you’ - he goes about his day thinking about merlin and putting merlin first and i just - i literally have never seen this person before in my life. who is this man? who is this unbelievably attentive paragon of caring? i’ve never met him before.

the entire running problem with merlin and arthur’s friendship in canon is that arthur, while he absolutely does care about merlin, tends to take merlin for granted. merlin is just another feature of arthur’s landscape, until something dramatic happens and arthur has a little scare and saves merlin’s life, and then things go back to the way they were. arthur doesn’t See merlin the way he should, not in the ordinary moments. merlin goes home and spends his evenings thinking about arthur’s life; he ties himself in knots trying to help arthur develop as a person and to keep arthur safe and happy, but arthur just goes home and eats supper with his wife. arthur does not go home and spend his nights agonizing over how he can improve merlin’s life. he never once thinks, ‘my purpose on this earth is to serve and support my friend merlin.’ he never feels like he’s supposed to be half of some two-sided coin. i know people like to give arthur this quality in their fic - and that’s totally fine, of course, it’s fic, have as much fun as you want - but in canon, that is just not something arthur pendragon does. it’s not who he is shown to be.

and yet almost every time when i go to explore fandom, i find that the person who does put merlin first in canon is perpetually elbowed aside for this extremely generous interpretation of everyone’s favorite prince.

and i just...i always try to find the good bits in everything, and i am sometimes willing to overlook a ship i don’t personally enjoy if there’s something else about the piece that i think is great, but there’s only so many times i can read the sentence “merlin had never felt like this with anyone, not even will” in fics where merlin and will are supposed to have been dating or even married/engaged, or “will was merlin’s best friend, but he just didn’t understand” (not like arthur, of course, who merlin literally just met a week ago), or “will was great, but there was only so much of him merlin could stand in one sitting/will was great, but he was best enjoyed in small doses.” there’s only so many times i can read a hundred different variations of that before i start to get real grumpy. and that’s not even touching the fics where will’s portrayed less favorably than that, even.

so, you know. i feel grumbly about it sometimes, how this particular character is trapped in a perpetual net of always being less-than, when one of the nicest parts of fandom for me is that every character/ship can have an infinitude of possibilities, even the ones i personally think are unbelievably bizarre (which category merlin and will do not even fall into, like - it’s not an incredible leap. merlin/mordred is a leap, okay; mordred is like seventeen years old! leon/morgana is a leap - how on earth did that become so popular??? - but will and merlin? that’s not a leap.)

what is it about will that makes him so tempting to trample over? will’s only sin in canon was to look at arthur pendragon and pronounce himself utterly unimpressed. his only crime was to tell merlin ‘this dude isn’t good for you,’ about which fact he was CORRECT, by the way - he is the first person who ever chooses to care about merlin, the first person merlin ever chooses to trust, the first friend who loves real!merlin without needing to be coaxed and convinced and taught that it’s okay. he is the only one who ever tells merlin ‘you deserve better than this mess,’ the only one for whom merlin has always been priority number one and in whose eyes arthur isn’t even on the map. merlin’s friendship with will (and lancelot, afterwards) is the healthiest one merlin ever gets to experience, and i wish more fannish material acknowledged it as such, as opposed to using will to set up merlin and arthur’s epic romance.

all of this, i suppose, is just a very long way of saying that now that i am no longer avoiding spoilers and have actually started testing the waters of the wider fandom, i have come to the obstinate, utterly inflexible conclusion that will deserves his own collection of happy endings, and i don’t care if i have to write them myself. i’ve already got the gen angle covered. and even though i’ve never written ship!fic in my life, the fact of the matter is that spite can be a hell of a motivator, and i will bite the bullet and learn how to do it if i have to. if people can really be out here tagging their merlin/uther fics as “schmoop” (YES. REALLY.) then by GOD, i swear, there are no excuses - this fandom can accommodate literally anything; there’s no reason it can’t accommodate stories where will wins. let this kid have his good ending. arthur pendragon can fall in love with merlin 23,830 times despite his and merlin’s ship flying in the face of canon, and that means will deserves his own tiny handful of stories to be actually about him, without his and merlin’s relationship being used solely as a stepping stone on the way to merlin and arthur’s 23,831st triumph.

i am just saying - if uther pendragon can fall in love with merlin and have it tagged as ‘fluff,’ then for the love of all that is good, we can give will his moment. let will enjoy the respect he should have earned from us when he died saving both merlin and arthur’s lives. let will be a person in his own right, instead of a plot device sacrificed to the (in)glorious altar of merthur. let will have an inner life of his own. let will have a best friend who doesn’t treat him like an accessory to The Greatest Love Story Ever Told. let will himself live out The Greatest Love Story Ever Told, for once. let will get his guy. i may tend to focus on friendship in my own work, but there are a lot of universes out there, and when it comes to someone who has always been so alone, and so singularly focused on merlin’s wellbeing, i’m not entirely sure if friendship even feels anything different to “in love” for will at all, in at least some of these places.

let will have his happy tags. he’s been on his own for so much of his life - let him have his simple ‘friendship’, his ‘platonic love,’ his ‘found family.’ let him have his lovestruck ‘pining,’ ‘friends-to-lovers,’ ‘angst with a happy ending,’ too, and let him keep those tags for himself. let characters who aren’t arthur pendragon have their love stories.

i may not care much for shipping, and i would rather read gen any day of the week, but let me tell you right now, i would rather write will and merlin settling down in a haze of domestic bliss 23,830 times before i would ever want to watch merlin ditch him yet again for a dude who never matched merlin’s level of caring and investment in the canon ‘verse.

#the once and future slowburn #no kings no masters #fandom #thank you for coming to the extended version of my ted talk #ultimately i know it's silly to be so invested #in something this small #and i constantly struggle with feeling...bizarrely self-conscious about like - even writing things like this because #it's so inconsequential and then i feel silly for being so interested #and using so many words for such a little thing #you know like when you're young and you get embarrassed about being so passionate about some niche interest #i feel like someone is looking at me and being like 'BOY THAT GIRL IS STUPID'#(why you ask???)#(i don't know; it's ridiculous!)#but then there's like another voice in my head yelling 'THAT IS LITERALLY WHAT FANDOM IS FOR'#'fanatic domain'#you're SUPPOSED to be fanatically obsessed about something; that is literally the point #people devote whole blogs to their tiny niche interests and their favorite pairings and they post incessantly about one thing #and i never think that's weird #that's just fandom #so i just have to like - chill out about myself lol #i am allowed to make innumerable posts about something only i care about #and i am allowed to be as passionate about tiny niche things as i want #that is literally the purpose of fandom and i just have to keep reminding myself of that #i have no trouble remembering it when it comes to other people's interests #but i always get self-conscious about my own #ANYWAY I'M WORKING ON IT #but in the meantime i'm having fun #which is the entire point of being a fan so #all is well #:D

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tonystarkbingo · 5 years ago

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Our first roundup for Round Three of the TSB! This is for the first 12 days, and there are SO MANY FILLS! It’s awesome!

Title: Adventures of Tiny Dragon Tony and His Treasure (Loki) Collaborator: BennyBatch Link: AO3 Square Filled: T4 - intimacy without sex Ship: FrostIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: none Summary: Tony and Loki ring in the new year. Word Count: 25,717

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Title: The Ghost and The Machine - Chapter 17: I Can Live With This Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: A5 - ghosts Ship: Tony & Bucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: cliffhanger Summary: Bucky leaves the hospital, does some recovering at home, then goes back to work with Tony in tow. And sees something very unexpected. Word Count: 33,789

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Title: Rise Unwilling and Slow Collaborator: used_songs Link: AO3 Square Filled: S1 - Fireplace Ship: none Rating: Teen Major Tags: implied/referenced child abuse, alcoholism/alcohol abuse Summary: Tony is called home from college to play the dutiful son. Word Count: 944

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Title: Ghost and the Machine - Angst with a Happy/Hopeful Ending Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: T2 - Angst Ship: Tony & Bucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: angst with a happy ending Summary: The angst ending to The Ghost and The Machine! Word Count: 2821

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Title: Ghost and the Machine - Ouch Ending Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: R3 - It wasn't worth it Ship: Tony & Bucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: major character death, heavy angst Summary: The ouch ending to The Ghost and The Machine! Word Count: 1352

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Title: Unintended Consequences Collaborator: dracusfyre Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - Writing Format: Drabble Ship: Tony Stark & Loki Rating: G Major Tags: none Summary: Tony finds out that Godhood is relative. Word Count: 100

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Title: Always a Moment Collaborator: tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: T5 - Last Chance Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: prisoners together, Winter Soldier!Bucky, hopeful ending Summary: Tony is captured by Hydra, who try to get him to create weapons for them. When he keeps refusing, they throw him in a cell with the Winter Soldier--hoping some time with the Asset will scare him into cooperating, but also accepting that the Soldier might just kill him. Like a snake befriending the mouse given as a meal, the Soldier instead takes Tony as a (consensual) snuggle buddy, becoming fiercely protective of him. Eventually, the two find a way to escape Word Count: 1690

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Title: Two MIT Students in Search of a Comet Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: R4 - Going on Vacation Together Ship: Tony & Rhodey Rating: G Major Tags: none Summary: The last appearance of Halley’s Comet was in 1985/1986, aka perfectly timed for MIT-era space nerds Tony Stark & James Rhodes to load up their car with junk food and go on an epic road trip to get the best view of it… Word Count:

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Title: A Hard Day’s Night Collaborator: rebel-author-chick Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A3 - Free Ship: Tony Stark/Reader Rating: G Major Tags: fluff Summary: Tony helps you relax after a hard day of work. Word Count: 879

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Title: Riding the Unicorn Collaborator: Gavilan Link: AO3 Square Filled: R1 - Watching Helplessly Ship: Clint/Natasha/Tony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Dom/sub-overtones, begging, pwp, threesome Summary: “He’s making a lot of noise, isn’t he?” Clint remarked, sounding almost casual. “He is,” Nat agreed. “Why, wanna do something about it?” Tony could hear the smile in Clint’s voice as he replied, “Y’know, I rather think I do.” Word Count: 3658

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Title: Occupational Hazard Collaborator: chel Link: Tumblr Square Filled: T4 - Occupational Hazard Ship: Tony Stark/Tony DiNozzo Rating: G Major Tags: NCIS Summary: "So, Mr. DiNozzo, is it?” “It’s actually Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, thank you Mr. Stark.” “Dr. Stark.” Word Count:

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Title: Who’s Gonna Pick You Up? Collaborator: ceealaina Link: AO3 Square Filled: T4 - First Date Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers Summary: In a world where Tony is less playboy and more awkward nerd, he’s mostly bored and lonely now that he’s graduated from MIT and Rhodey’s off on his Air Force adventures. Agreeing to a blind date with Ty Stone doesn’t turn out to be his best plan, but luckily Nat’s there to save to day. (And even more luckily, she’s got a cute brother and Tony is just his type.) Word Count: 5200

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Title: Blood Will Tell - 1/10 Collaborator: thewaythatwerust Link: AO3 Square Filled: T2 - Myths and Legends Ship: Eventual Stuckony Rating: Mature Major Tags: Vampires, Werewolves, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Summary: His short nails rake over the frozen rock, leaving gouging trails in their wake. He can’t interfere. Shifted, lupans are strong enough to be a problem in a fang to fur fight one-on-one, but three-on-one, in daylight, the odds are dramatically in their favor. Word Count: 2717

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Title: A Human Convention Collaborator: politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: A2 - Writing Format: Drabble Ship: None Rating: G Major Tags: Drabble, Reflection, Inner Dialogue Summary: JARVIS reflects on a human convention. Word Count: 100

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Title: Breathe Collaborator: hddnone Link: AO3 Square Filled: A3 - Free Square Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: none Summary: Bucky needed feedback about his missions. He needed to know how he did. He needed to know how to keep improving. He needed to know, above all, that he could trust his mind and instincts still in the heat of the battle. He needed to know that he could still do good things. But more than that, he needed all those things from someone who would be honest. Someone who wouldn’t shy away from a critique or confrontation. Bucky found all those things down in the workshop with Tony. Word Count: 2032

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Title: So Just Let Us Be Three Collaborator: SierraNovembr Link: AO3 Square Filled: R2 - Kink: Anal Sex Ship: Steve/Tony/Sam Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content, Threesome Summary: Tony had been growing steadily closer to Steve and Sam, who are in a happy, good relationship. No matter how much he wanted more, he’d blown his chance with Steve years ago. If he can’t stop himself from finding excuses to linger with them even though he knows they’re settled together, out of his reach, that’s his own problem. Right? Word Count: 2474

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Title: Something Afoot in Frisco Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: T2 - Convenience Store Ship: Tony & Eddie|Venom Rating: Teen Major Tags: canon-typical violence Summary: Tony Stark is cutting loose after his first business trip to San Francisco, but after his date goes sideways, he ends up in a neighborhood bodega. The night gets weirder from there. Word Count: 1115

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Title: Blood Will Tell - Chapter 2: ⭑ TONY ⭑ Collaborator: thewaythatwerust Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - Amnesia Ship: Stuckony Rating: Mature Major Tags: A moment of descriptive gore/horror Summary: So focused on keeping the contents of his stomach inside his stomach, Tony hadn’t heard Bruce approaching him. “You know, when Clint came barrelling into the clinic this morning, rambling about a horror show, I thought it was his regular hyperbole. But seeing this… Tony, how are you even alive right now?” Tony rubs his fingers over the dressing covering the wound at his temple. He shakes his head. “I don’t know. Believe me, I wish I could remember what went down, but it’s just… blank.” Word Count: 4493

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Title: All I Needed Was The Last Thing I Wanted Collaborator: martianwahtney Link: AO3 Square Filled: R4- Meet Ugly Ship: Anthony DiNozzo/Tony Stark Rating: Gen Major Tags: none Summary: “You decided to move your buddy’s car as a prank, but you got the wrong car and now I think you’re breaking into my car, what the hell is wrong with you” or where DiNozzo finds Tony Stark trying to break into his car and things devolve from there Word Count: 1060

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Title: AU: Adventurer/Explorer Collaborator: lronhusbands Link: Tumblr Square Filled: R2 - AU: Adventurer/Explorer Ship: Tony/Rhodey Rating: Gen Major Tags: none Summary: moodboard

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Title: Art Format: Line Art Collaborator: Trashcanakin Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A4 - Art Format: Line Art Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: [Fanart] Winter Soldier Tony Stark

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Title: Ghost of Unprotected Sex Past Chapter 1 - Three Things Collaborator: shakespeareanqueer Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A3 - free space Ship: Tony/Reader Rating: Mature Major Tags: Cursing, crying, mention of illness and injury, mention of break up, mention of sex and birth control Summary: You show up to Tony’s NYC mansion with some unexpected news. Word Count: 1887

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Title: I Hear You Call My Name Collaborator: tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: S1 - Kink: Sex Magic Ship: IronStrange Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content, PWP Summary: Stephen needs a little extra oomph for a spell. Tony really needs to get laid more than once every two months… Word Count: 2240

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Title: Bog Boyfriends (in charcoal & colored pencil) Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A1 - old married couple Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: Everyone on the TSB discord was having so much fun with the Tony-and-Bucky-as-bog-boyfriends idea I couldn’t resist joining in with my version! The glowy green on both of them is some sort of magic that healed them after they each crashed in the bog & keeps them alive as long as they stay there. And Tony is a lil bat creature bc I wanted him to be something that could fly; a bat seemed appropriate :)

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Title: Every Surface in the House, AKA: Permanently Damaged Platypus Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: T5 - Writing format: documentation/epistolary fic Ship: Pepperony, JARVIS & FRIDAY Rating: Teen Major Tags: implied sexual content, AI feels Summary: Rhodey is scandalized, Tony is only slightly ashamed, Pepper isn't done with Tony, JARVIS is fond, FRIDAY is amused, and Natasha enjoyed the retelling. Word Count: 956

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Title: We're gonna dance in my living room slave to the way you move Collaborator: cutebutpsyco Link: AO3 Square Filled: T3 - carnival Ship: IronStrange Rating: Teen Major Tags: mentions of eating disorder, alcohol and drug abuse and death. Summary: “I… Fuck... “ He whispered. “You’d like to dine and wine and take him out on a date, don’t you?” He could tell she was smiling and didn’t like that at all. “I think he likes you, but you’ll need him to trust you before even trying. Or he’ll run away. And then I’ll personally kill you.” Tony laughed. “How did you make him trust you?” “No, you won’t have the get out of jail card this soon, Stark.” Word Count: 6597

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Title: That’s What Friends Are For Collaborator: ceealaina Link: AO3 Square Filled: R3 - Old Team Ship: IronHusbands Rating: Teen Major Tags: none Summary: The Tony Stark Protection Squad,” he told her, like that was a thing. “It’s really just me and Colonel Rhodes – and well, you now, I guess – the people who actually care about Tony’s well-being. The people he actually likes, doesn’t play pretend with.”

Pepper had rolled her eyes at him and then yelped when he’d tossed a lemon at her and things had gone back to normal. But she couldn’t really deny that he was wrong. Word Count: 1733

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Title: Marvel Universe Online - Chapter 1 Collaborator: Eirlyssa Link: AO3 Square Filled: R2 - Online Interactions Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: None Summary: Bucky and his friends all play the same online game, where they met the one missing member of their group - Iron. They might not know one another in real life, but their friendship is definitely real. Except they might be closer than they think. Word Count: 2308

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Title: Want Collaborator: alwaysabrighterdarkness Link: AO3 Square Filled: S3 - Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: None Summary: “No,” Tony managed to say finally, dark eyes still locked on icy ones. “That’s not…That’s not what I’m wanting to say. You don’t have to go. I’d rather you didn’t. Go that is.”“Then what is you want, Tony?” he asked seriously, brows furrowed slightly in frustration. “I get that you’re still angry and I don’t blame you. But I’m not gonna keep giving myself whiplash tryin’ to keep up with you.” Word Count: 3039

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Title: IronMachine is Born Collaborator: Tonks Link: AO3 Square Filled: S1 - Fusion Ship: Tony & Rhodey Rating: G Major Tags: none Summary: Clint walks in on something he never knew he needed in his life. Word Count: 100

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Title: Dillan Collaborator: Lacrimula Falsa Link: AO3 Square Filled: Adopted 1 - Afterlife/Ascension Ship: None Rating: Teen Major Tags: Major Character Death Summary: Turns out they don’t send the Grim Reaper to take you to the afterlife. Word Count: 765

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Title: Bids Collaborator: alwaysabrighterdarkness Link: AO3 Square Filled: A2 - Terrible Choices Ship: Stony Rating: Teen Major Tags: None Summary: Natasha is tired of watching them dance around one another while accomplishing absolutely nothing. When the Maria Stark Foundation hosts a Charity Auction, she takes the opportunity to make her own plans. Word Count: 3423

#tonystarkbingo2020 #tsb2020 #weekly roundup #week 1 #week 1 roundup

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evangclines-blog1 · 5 years ago

Text

what if we ...... pretended this was a good intro ..... aha just kidding ..... unless ? i was just gonna link to all my stuff but ... ur girl wrote a lot and i don’t wanna be cruel and force u all to read everything JDBWBDJBWJ so here we go !! <3

( VENUS, PARK SOOYOUNG, CIS FEMALE, SHE /HER ) guess what, EVANGELINE RHEE has just landed in cannes with their private jet. they are a TWENTY-TWO year old socialite, who spends much of their time & money UPDATING THEIR SKINCARE ROUTINE. i think their family is in the ENTERTAINMENT INDUSTRY and their net worth is around 10B USD.

first things first ... i’m gonna drop some links in case u want to read everything i wrote at 6 am the day the submit closed bc im stoopid like that <3

here u can find her full bio, stats, extended stats, and hcs ! the hcs are definitely the most fun to read so i recommend going to that page hehe

into the summary we go !

BACKSTORY: suicide mention tw

eva’s dad is a movie producer and her mom was the beautiful woman he met at a train station <3 her parents had a very whirlwind romance, very love at first sight, very passionate and intense type of relationship literally everything you see in hollywood ? they had that ! they got married after only a year of knowing each other and had eva soon after

thats when things got not-so-picturesque /: after having eva, her mom entered a pretty dark depression. eva’s dad ( who had been aware of his wife’s mental health and even warned by her family against doing anything crazy like getting married and having a whole baby so fast ) was kinda in denial about everything. eva’s mom still had her good days, but the bad days were really bad & when eva was only two years old her mom had an accident & passed away

so while eva’s dad was grieving, he sent little eva to new york city to go live with her grandma !! eva adored her grandmother more than anyone else. she was a retired jazz singer, and a lot of what they did together was sit around and listen to old records <3 eva lived with her until she was five years old & that’s pretty much the only childhood she can remember since her mom died when she was so young !!

when her dad brings eva back to france, he’s doing a lot better. he’s back to producing movies and throwing parties and being a part of society again ( things he had stopped while he was grieving for his wife ) and he even found his own form of “medicine” which was simply the company of beautiful women ! most of them were young actresses he met through his work, all of them were gorgeous, and they all adored little eva <3

eva adored them right back ! they taught her stuff she imagined all mother’s teach their daughters: how to dress well, how to smell nice, how to get people’s attention, what makeup to wear, how to do your hair, how to speak so everyone hangs on to your every word, etc. she was still a little girl but she was absorbing all these lessons like a sponge, & it’s a big part of why she’s so obsessed with her own femininity and why she’s got this mindset about being beautiful inside & out in order to feel balanced.

none of the women her dad brought home were ever at her house for more than a week. her father, who had been a notorious bachelor before eva’s mother, seemed incapable of falling in love again. that was his first and maybe only lesson to eva, which was how to break hearts, which is something else she absorbed & carried with her as she grew up

as eva grew up, she kinda became obsessed with trying to imagine what her mom had been like. no one in her family liked to talk about her, especially not her dad, but she knew she looked just like her and she was kinda always trying to fill in the blanks. but then one christmas her dad let it slip that her mom’s death hadn’t been an accident at all, that it had been on purpose. that was kind of the turning point for eva & she just kind of....stopped trying to re imagine her mom after that just kinda wanting to let her rest /:

she also went through a phase of doing stuff just because she could. she’d flirt with people’s boyfriends, she’d make strangers fall in love with her, she’d date people just to break up with them suddenly, etc. she kind of realized just how much she could get away with, but more than that, just how far people would go when they fell in love. she was obsessed with that, but also kind of jealous of those people just because she’d never felt that kind of soul shattering love for someone before and she really does want to </3 while she’s never been in love before, and while she does get bored of lovers easily, she still feels a type of attachment that is sometimes so strong she’s not willing to let the other person go even if she’s being selfish by hanging onto people she can’t get serious abt /: thats just life sometimes......whore rights !

FUN FACTS , PERSONALITY, AND TIDBITS: whore antics tw

goes by eva, never evangeline. her grandma has always called her angel, and so that nickname has also carried over naturally

libra sun AND moon babey ! read abt it here

wears euphoria makeup to do groceries

moved from paris to new york city for college to attend columbia university. double majored in english literature and business management.

created what she called the “manhattan group” in reference to the bloomsbury group, which was a group of associated english writers, intellectuals, philosophers and artists in the first half of the 20th century ( that included writers like virginia woolf ) duringher freshman year. although meetings were supposed to be about discussing literature, it mostly became a place to drink warming champagne, flirt, and gossip. eva hosted the events & meetings off campus inside her loft. the manhattan group only lasted her freshman year though, as rumors of all the underage drinking and “cult-like behavior” persuaded her to drop it. that, and the fact that more than one member had fallen in love with her and things were getting quite tense.

she never carries a lighter because she likes the way more than one person will offer her one if she asks for a light <3

it’s a famous rumor that eva once spilled her drink on her chanel mini-dress at a charity gala and stripped down to her lingerie in front of everyone. it would have stayed a rumor if it wasn’t for the instagram story that went up of her only her underwear.

she has a house phone in her nyc loft that only a select few people ( minus the strangers she’s given the number to while drunk ) know the number

has a three year old black cat named june that she brought with ehr to cannes <3

is the proud owner of a black maserati despite being an infamous bad driver. no one in their right mind, especially not her friends, would ever trust eva to drive.

it’s rumored she once snuck onto the yacht of a ceo to a fortune 500 company, only for him to find her in nothing but a bath towel eating chocolates while flipping through his playboy magazines, and that he was so taken with her instead of pressing charges he decided to name the boat after eva.

once spent a whole day walking around paris in a cheap pink wig and calling herself yvette. nobody could figure out why. eva often pulls stunts like this on a whim.

believes 2 is an unlucky number and is very superstitious about it, as that is the year her mother died. fully believes her twenties are cursed and is actually looking forward to the day she turns 30 just to escape the 2′s.

leonardo dicaprio once made a pass at her during the after party of a movie premiere she was attending.

during full moons, eva always has sex with the windows open. even if it’s winter, a window will be cracked open. this is one of her many personal superstitions.

has a collection of old love letters, mixtapes, and presents past suitors and secret admirers have gifted her. while she cannot remember the origin of quite a few of the objects in her collection, she is attached to them still.

owns a replica of the famous cross necklace filled with cocaine that kathryn had in cruel intentions.

literally i basically just copied most of my hcs page im a clown i cant do summaries...

ok so personality wise ? shes a flirt. a whore, if u will. yes thats a personality trait now. literally if ur breathing shes flirting doesnt matter who u are doesnt matter if ur married if u have 10 kids doesnt matter like she will flirt....does not know how to open her mouth without flirting

big on aesthetics /: believes everyone should get manicures like if ur cuticles are showing shes gonna gag . get help <3

not good at being held accountable for her actions. she’s not really the type to be malicious on purpose, but since she really does play with ppls feelings a lot it’s inevitable she’s gonna hurt someone but if u bring it up shes just gonna be like .. me ? at fault ? u must have the wrong girl i’m angel ...

likes 2 play games JSBDWBDJW clearly....matters of the heart are her fave kind but she also likes doing kinda ridiculous stuff for fun just to see how ppl are gonna react, also likes to do stuff just bc she knows she can usually get away with it

loves skin care like she will be ur dermatologist ( self appointed ) she will gift u a moisturizer she will get everyone to do facemasks with her u cannot escape it ...

has trouble being alone but won’t admit it / doesn’t even really realize it ??? like it is... very rare u will ever find her sleeping alone or spending a whole day in just her own company

not shy.....at all like JBSJDWBJDW she could use some shame but she has zero unfortunately

despite being a whore....she is a HUGE romantic like whew she is obsessed with old love songs & is always playing them on her record player she loves to slow dance <3 she often gives ppl her fave poems ( usually poems abt sex ), she loves getting roses, loves kissing ppl on the cheek when she’s wearing lipstick, & she likes to leave ppl voicemails like ... shes really living like she is the main chara of a romance movie and everyone else is extra #5 most of the time...

idk what else to say im sure shes gonna evolve once we start rping bc that always happens to me but....for now.....this is the end ! *cue feel special by twice*

#opulentintro #╰ ♡ . 𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒅𝒖𝒎𝒃 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒔𝒔 ── ooc ! ┘#me: ok im gonna summarize !#me: literally just rewrites everything just to have it turn out just as long...#CLOWN !!! IM A CLOWN !!!!!

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billy-batson · 7 years ago

Note

"Here's a hint: I'm not telling you" or "Alright im gonna go cry" (or combined bc that has comedic potential) with Steve-O ❤❤❤

prompt: also asked by anon: “Alright, I’m gonna go cry” w/ Steve

pairing: steve harrington x reader

rated: t for teen

warnings: cursing here and there

word count: 2647

read it on ao3

Winter time. Winter brought three–no, four good things: holiday season, new years celebration, cold weather, and, of course, your and Steve’s anniversary.

It had only been a year (god, it felt so much longer), since the two of you had begun as an actual thing; since you had become a real couple. The start had been…confusing at first, but after the first date, things had gone smoothly for you both.

As you baked his favorite type of cake from scratch, stirring the mix together as you dropped blue and red food coloring into the bowl, you reminisced on how you’d both gotten to the point that you were at, now–with him driving down from his university an hour away to visit you.

You had met in science class, grouped together in a lab assignment with two other people: a stoner who clearly wasn’t interested in doing anything, and a quiet, shy girl who wasn’t going to do anything. He had been working on his personal essay for university all throughout class, leaving you to be the leader of the group.

“Okay, then,” you said aloud after five minutes of silence, the stoner staring out into space, the quiet girl looking down at the table, and Steve, who everyone and their mother knew, nearly banging his head against the table in frustration as he tried to string sentences together to make them somewhat coherent. “I’m Y/N,” you offered, attempting to start conversation among them. The silence stretched on as no one else said anything. “Alright.”

“What’s another word for ‘being a winner’?” Steve had interjected, not looking up from his paper.

“Uh…successful?” you offered, and he mumbled out a quick thanks before returning to his writing. “No problem,” you sighed, knowing that this class would undoubtedly be total and utter crap because of the group you were now forced to work with every time there’s a lab. Dandy.

“We’re uh, introducing each other, right?” Steve said, glancing up from his writing quickly, “I’m Steve.”

That’s practically a given, you thought to yourself silently, but noticed as the quiet girl began to speak. “I’m Amy,” she said softly, her voice sounding unsteady, as though she were underwater.

“Todd,” the stoner said, waving a hand, as though they all couldn’t quite see him. “Fair warning, but lunch is right before this class and lunch time is break time, so I’ll probably be a crap partner anyway–”

“Well, we’re stuck together,” Steve had huffed, “So try to…skip a day or two when we have labs, okay? Don’t think it’d be smart to lose a limb over getting high.”

Todd’s eyes widened, “We can lose a limb in here?!”

Steve gave him a shrug, “I mean, anything can happen when you’re high and working with chemicals. Could even go blind.”

“Oh maaan, really?” Todd asked, collapsing in his seat.

Steve nodded as though this was a one hundred percent proven fact, “Absolutely,” he said, looking to you and winking.

Winking?

You couldn’t have been sure that it had even happened until it had, but you decided not to question it. Either way, he had helped you. Even though it was in a small way, it had worked.

You’d interacted throughout the month of September and October every so often that senior year in class and during labs, but you didn’t really know him, know him. You did know that he was better at science than he was at writing, and he was actually really nice, something that you hadn’t been expecting. You didn’t really believe the rumors that the popular jock Steve Harrington had changed from how he was before, but it seemed like they were true. He had changed, and you supposed that there was Nancy to thank for that.

Nancy Wheeler was a good girl. Nice, sweet–didn’t really talk to people outside of her social circle except for Jonathan Byers who, you supposed, she got along well with because her brother was best friends with his brother. He was the only exception.

You’d had a chance to really talk to Steve alone, though, for the first time, at the halloween party. The night had still been going strong, but it had been winding down for you. You’d gone out to the backyard to get a breath of fresh air, away from the smell of sweat and teenage boys and the faint smell of vomit, and were quickly met by noneother than–

“Steve,” you’d said softly, noticing that he was seated against the side of the house, his gaze watching the blue of the pool behind the fence. “What are you doing out here?” you asked curiously.

“Oh,” he said, “Y/N. Didn’t think a party like this was your kind of scene.”

“Yeah, well…” you sighed, sitting down next to him, crossing your legs. “It’s not. But I figured hey, it’s senior year. Might as well do one of the stereotypical teenage crap adults always say we do.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he asked curiously, to which you chuckled and shrugged.

“Like…uh. Get drunk, go to some…party thrown by some rich girl who’s parents are away for the weekend. Dance with some boys. That kinda stuff, I guess,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Huh,” he mused quietly before turning to look at you. “And have you done it?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Wait, what?”

“The list,” he said, “The ‘stereotypical things’.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling slightly embarrassed that your mind immediately went to another matter. “uh, can’t say that I’m drunk. Buzzed maybe. The drinks here aren’t that good anyway.”

“Yup,” Steve agreed, and you glanced back at him.

“And what about you? Have you done any stereotypical teenage things at this party?” you asked curiously.

“Well, I, uh–” he laughed, the sound coming out loud and harsh, “Can’t say it’s stereotypical, but I got in a fight with my girlfriend and I’m pretty sure she wants us to break up.” He’s quiet for a moment as he realized that the words were out in the air now, and he couldn’t call them back. “So there’s that.”

“Shit,” you huffed, shifting in your seated spot. “Sorry, Steve.”

“Nah,” he waved it off. “Nothing anyone can do ‘bout it. Been a long time coming, I think.”

You didn’t say anything, feeling as though it wasn’t your place to speak. He seemed to want to vent, in any case.

“She said she didn’t love me,” he continued, “That whatever we have–had?–is bullshit.”

Yikes.

“Jesus,” you sighed. “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” he stated, “Yeah. It sucks.” He went silent for a moment and said in a deadpan tone, “I think I’m drunk.”

You laughed at that, “Yeah, I think so, too.”

He laughed along with you, almost self deprecatingly, you think, and he says, “My girlfriend probably wants to break up and here I am, drunk and laughing about it. That seems fucked up to me, is it fucked up to you?”

“Just a bit,” you tell him, a wide smile on your face. “Just a lil.”

“Christ, what happened to your face?” you questioned a few days later when you had a lab together. He had bruises just about everywhere, and you’re pretty sure that he has two black eyes.

“An asshole happened,” he huffed, almost collapsing into his chair across from you as the other students came into class.

“Yeah, well,” you said, your tone deadpan, “You look like shit.”

“Oh, well thanks,” Steve said sarcastically.

“Hair’s still good, though,” you say to him, slightly perplexed, “Oddly enough.”

“My hair is always good,” he told you, clearly flaunting it as he ran a hand through it, causing for you to laugh ever so slightly, shaking your head with incredulity.

“You’re an idiot, Steve.”

He had asked you out on a not-date during the thanksgiving break, inviting you out to an ice skating rink.

“Is this supposed to be a date?” you teased him, knowing that the moment you got him to think that this was explicitly not a date would mean that you’d be able to keep your feelings for him under wraps. If he didn’t think this was a date, then you could think it wasn’t a date. Dating was complicated, and you didn’t want to make things complicated. You wanted to keep things simple, especially since he and Nancy had just broken up after nearly a year together. It’d only been a few weeks since then, and you figured that he needed longer in order to not make you seem as though you were “the rebound”.

If he was even interested in you in that way, that is.

“Pfft, no,” Steve replied, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He deadpanned, asking quickly, “Why? Do you want it to be? Is that what you want–”

“I’ll go to the rink with you,” you tell him before he can finish his questions, not wanting to complicate things. “You’re paying, right?”

“Yeah,” he answered, and you nodded.

“Cool!” you said, “So it’s a not-date.”

“It’s a not-date.”

Later, it turned out, that the “not-date” quickly turned into just a regular date – although neither of you had noticed it. You had had to hold his hand (clinging onto him totally in the beginning, but moving down to just his hand) in order to keep yourself from falling onto the cold ice (which you had already managed to do before an abundance of times; dragging him down with you every time). At some point, the songs that they were playing became more calm, more soothing, and before you knew it, they were playing specifically songs for couples.

Neither of you had noticed that everyone around you was a couple until you’d pointed it out, finding it odd that everyone had seemed to be in pairs–

And just like that, you fell yet again, this time with Steve landing on the ice before you, and you going down right after him. He attempted to reach out to catch you, which resulted in you collapsing onto his chest, the wind knocked out of both of your bodies as he winced.

“I am so sorry!” you said flusteredly, attempting to get up and off of him.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Steve said as you sat back on your knees, the skate only slightly digging into your back legs.

“Crap, I feel so bad,” you said, trying not to blame yourself but seriously failing.

“Seriously, Y/N,” he said, chuckling as he stood up onto his feet, skates touching the ice once again. “I’m fine.”

You paused, chewing on your lip slightly. “Thank you,” you said in recognition of his efforts to catch you, which was at an expense to him.

“No problem,” he said.

December rolled around before you knew it, and Steve was up to something.

“Alright, what are you planning?” you questioned, narrowing your eyes as you sat with him during lunch at the local fast food restaurant.

“You’ll see,” he said, not giving away anything as he continued to write in his notebook.

“Ugh, can I at least have a hint? Something?” you asked curiously, hating not knowing about something.

“Okay, okay, here’s a hint,” he said, looking up from his paper to look at you. “I’m not telling you.”

“Steve!” you said in a clipped tone, smacking him on the shoulder gently. “You’re being dumb again.”

“Y/N, you’ll see, okay?” he said, “But I guess I can give you a little hint. I guess.”

“Okay, okay, what is it?” you asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m gonna take my girlfriend out somewhere she’ll like,” Steve said coyly, and you felt your heart drop for some weird reason.

“Your girlfriend?” you asked, wondering when he and Nancy had gotten back together, and feeling slightly dumb that you hadn’t realized that he was dating someone before. It was dumb, but you had thought that you guys were–

“Oh, shit,” he muttered, bringing his palm to his forehead. “Crap. Forgot to ask.”

“Ask what?” you questioned.

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Okay, okay, wait, wait –” Steve said as he handed the envelope to you as you sat across from one another on his bed. “You read it.”

“Steve, you’re being a baby,” you teased him, taking the envelope from his hands anyway. “It’ll be fine, alright?”

“Yeah, but–” his face darkened with worry for a moment, and he forced a nervous laugh out. “Alright, I’m gonna go cry.”

“Alright, alright, don’t be a baby,” you said, practically tearing the envelope open. You pulled out the letter from inside, skimming past the Dear Steve Harrington at the top and searching for the magic words. As you expected, they were there. Just to mess with him, though, you looked back at him, your face falling ever so slightly. “Oh, Steve,” you said softly.

“What?” he asked nervously. “What’s it say?” He grabbed for the letter, his eyes scanning the paper quickly.

“I’m sorry,” you said slowly, building his anticipation, “That you’ve been accepted to a nerd school!”

He looked back up at you, his eyes lighting up with happiness. “Holy fuck, Y/N! Don’t scare me like that!”

You laughed, “What? I told you, didn’t I? I knew you would get in!”

“Shit,” he muttered, a breathless laugh passing from his lips. He smiled at you, now, wrapping you in a bear hug.

“You did it!” you say, rubbing his back reassuringly. “I told you so.”

He sat back away from you for a moment before pressing his lips to yours, his warm, soft lips coming into contact with yours. Still, just like the first time, you get goosebumps as you feel that electric feeling run through your veins yet again.

“I love you,” he laughed in between kisses, “So fucking much.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you laughed with him, smiling as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. “I love you, too.”

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a door close shut behind you just as you pulled the cake out of the oven, your eyes lighting up as you saw who was there.

“Steve!”

He had rushed to you and you had practically jumped into his widespread arms, him spinning you around as you pressed kisses all across his cheeks.

“Ooh, I missed you so much,” you said, still holding onto him tightly as he dropped you back down to the floor.

“I missed you, too,” he said, pulling the two of you apart for a moment so that he can look at you. “I still got the most gorgeous girlfriend in the world. Everyone else is dying of envy.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, pulling him down by the lapels of his shirt so that you can kiss him, re-familiarizing yourself with the softness of his lips. You missed this. You missed kissing him, hugging him, having him close by. “I love you,” you said softly, looking up into his eyes as you pulled away slightly, for nothing if not to stare at him. It had been so long since you’d seen him – since late September, maybe? At the start of the college semester? But now, now he was here, and you were together again, just like before. Just like always.

“I love you, too,” he said, cupping your face in his hands before pressing another kiss to your lips. He broke away from you for a moment to sniff the air, saying, “You baking?”

“Uh,” you glanced back to the purple colored cake which sat on the stove, cooling from having just been taken out of the oven, and you said, “Yeah. Didn’t get the chance to frost it, though–”

“No, no, we can do it together,” he said, narrowing his eyebrows as though it was ludicrous that you would do it alone.

“Yeah?” you asked, surprised at the offer. “Didn’t know that you liked to help in the kitchen.”

He shook his head, “Nah. With you, though?” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’d do anything.”

a/n: thanks for reading! i love him and ended up making this longer than i thought, lmao. (and i made the gif but i digress,) if you enjoyed, please leave a comment / reblog!

tagging: @donnaatroy @keithstellations @dana-in-wonderland

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #💌#magical-qirl #writing tag

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its-love-u-asshole · 7 years ago

Text

Slipping Underneath [Ch. 2]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukishima was in some deep shit he realized, but common sense told him he should have been rather happy about the discovery he’d just made. Of course, that didn’t stop him from freaking out.

“Tsukki? Did something happen?” Bokuto asked.

Dejected, the blond lifted his head, giving Bokuto the flattest stare he could manage. “The neighbor downstairs hates my voice.”

Rating: T

Tags: soulmates, mythology/sirens AU, some iwaoi and bokuaka thrown in bc why not, first meetings, fluff, Kuroo is a nerd and Tsukki can’t help but be charmed, Siren!Tsukki, Siren!Bokuto

Note: Thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over as always! This fic continues to be a lot of fun to write so I hope it shows lol. Enjoy!

AO3

From that point forward, Kuroo made sure to get his ass out of bed at the same exact time everyday. Even when he had no classes to speak of, he got up and left the safety of his home, just to go get his mail.

His phone would chime, and he'd silence it instantly, springing out from under his comforter to force on acceptable attire (sweats). He'd fumble and curse, and depending on the day Oikawa would yell at him to shut up from the room next door, but it hardly mattered. He would blink the tiredness out of his eyes, scurry out the door and knock into a few walls in the process (hey, he'd just woken up okay?), and then chose to take the stairs to the lobby floor because the elevator just took too damn long.

All to make it to the dimly lit corridor where a certain blond stood, regal and reserved as ever.

This part never had a plan.

Dammit.

Today was the fourth day of his dumbass new routine, and yet he still found his breath taken away by the sight of the blond staring at him like he had some sort of disease.

Tsukishima. Tsukki, as Kuroo had been fondly calling him in his daydreams.

Even with such a disinterested face, he looked like some sort of model.

"...Hey." He practically squeezed the word out, given his lungs were still a bit winded from the sudden exercise. He leaned against a row of mailboxes, trying to keep his breathing from sounding too loud.

Yeah man, just act cool. You're the fuckin' coolest.

The blond looked him up and down, scrutinizing every detail in a way that made Kuroo feel like he was being graded on something, until he finally spoke up. "Did you run all the way down here just to tell me that?"

Fuck.

"Maybe." Welp, there goes trying to lie. What was wrong with him lately? It was like he didn't know how to talk anymore when it came to Tsukishima. Kuroo was a damn artist with words, for crying out loud. His puns spoke for themselves really, but more evidence existed.

Tsukishima's eyes widened at the straightforward admission, but soon they were crinkling in amusement which made all of Kuroo's embarrassment worth it.

"You're weird, and you obviously need to go back to the bed," Tsukishima continued, wrapping his arms around the books he'd been carrying. Huh, I wonder if he does that when he's nervous. Kuroo had started to notice it on day two, but it hadn't gotten any less endearing.

"What was it this time? Exam prep until two in the morning?" Tsukishima asked, seeing as it was midterm season.

Ha.

"Video games until four," Kuroo said smugly, like he was oh so proud. It got another snort out of the blond. God, it was music to his ears.

"How studious."

"I know right? Don't you wish you were me?"

"Mmm," Tsukishima started to hum, and Kuroo willed himself not to take the sound and let his imagination run wild with it. He did not need to pop a boner right now.

Then Tsukishima was pointing at his head, unaware of Kuroo's less than decent thoughts. "No, because then I'd have to deal with that rat's nest you call hair."

"What?" Kuroo made a choked noise, stumbling back as if he'd been punched, and Tsukishima rolled his eyes. "Evil and rude."

"Well, it wouldn't be like that if you actually took care of it when you woke up," Tsukishima deadpanned. "Or it wouldn't look as bad at least."

Ouch, nail on the head.

Kuroo had hardly glanced at his appearance apart from his clothes this morning, too preoccupied with making it downstairs in time to see the blond who'd been strangely taking over his thoughts. Their first meeting hadn't exactly been ideal, but Kuroo truly did want to know more about the blond. He was reserved, but his sense of humor definitely existed, and Kuroo definitely liked it. Bad singing aside, Tsukishima's voice was calming, pleasant even. Not to mention he was gorgeous, but that was a given.

Even with those qualities alone, Kuroo felt drawn to him, and yet they weren't nearly enough to completely justify his attraction. Having a small crush was one thing, but Kuroo wanted to talk to Tsukishima and find out even more before acknowledging that he was completely taken by the other.

So...fuck it?

Kuroo always did believe honesty was the best policy.

"Yeah well, taming my hair to an at least semi-acceptable state takes around...eh...ten minutes?" Kuroo began, talking about it like it was one of his many science experiments. And really it might as well have been. He tested and timed himself enough times, back when he'd actually had hope for his unruly hair to sit flat.

Tsukishima brought a hand up to his mouth, concealing a smile which Kuroo had to restrain himself from beaming about. It was a nice distraction at least, putting his effort into that instead of focusing on his own heartbeat.

Ah well, here goes nothing.

"But uh, if I wasted time doing that I wouldn't make it down here in time to talk to you...so...yeah."

The silence was intense enough that Kuroo could hear the leaking pipes dripping, could hear a door slam on the floor above them. Basically, it was awful, but he held his ground. And oh, how he was grateful he had.

Tsukishima's cheeks lit up like Christmas lights, the red hue soft and noticeable regardless of the dim lighting of the hallway. Kuroo felt his lungs deflate as he forced himself to let out the breath he'd been holding, because he needed more oxygen asap.

But he wasn't totally out of the woods yet he supposed. Tsukishima's eyes flitted between Kuroo and the floor, his teeth nibbling at his lower lip (also unfair, Kuroo couldn't take this). He was searching for a response, and Kuroo didn't know if it was a good sign or not.

Maybe he'd been too upfront, as he tended to do. Shit.

Damage control. Damage control would be good. The last thing he wanted was for Tsukishima to be uncomfortable.

"Uh, what I mean is--"

"I don't think talking to someone in front of mailboxes is very traditional," the blond muttered, eyes staying glued to the floor.

Oh...

Kuroo felt a chill of anticipation flow down his spine, and his stomach churned from the nerves. But again, what was the point in lying now?

Be smooth dude.

"Then...would you like to talk to me somewhere else?" Kuroo asked, feeling suddenly hopeful. It wasn't like he had anything to lose here, other than his pride maybe. But it was worth it. The flush on Tsukishima's face and the stunned look from those honey brown eyes made it worth it.

The blond's grip on his books tightened, but he didn't brush Kuroo off, or turn away. He shrugged, as if uninterested, and began to stuff his mail into his bag. "Depends on where."

Kuroo couldn't list places fast enough. "We could go grab coffee, or go to the movies, or the mall, do you like the mall? I know some people hate it--"

"Kuroo-san."

"Bowling is always fun--"

"Kuroo-san."

"Or there's dinner, a classic really--"

"Kuroo-san." Tsukishima spoke firmly this time, enough to put an end to Kuroo's babbling at least, and the raven stared at him like a puppy waiting for a treat.

So much for being cool.

Tsukishima rubbed at the back of his neck, and Kuroo felt his heart seize a bit. Ah damn, that's not a good sign.

"I have a lot of studying to do, actually, so..." Tsukishima said, eyeing Kuroo curiously.

So, no can do.

He'd been too pushy yet again. Dammit.

Kuroo all but deflated. His shoulders sagged, and he willed his face not to show any disappointment as he registered the rejection. "Oh..well, some other time then I guess." Even he wanted to wince at how pitiful he sounded.

This shouldn't hurt as much as it did, he'd only just met Tsukishima. But it felt like he needed to down three tubs of ice cream regardless, just to soothe his wounds.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, the awkward tension around them still hanging in the air like a jerk. The universe hated Kuroo, obviously.

"Oh, yeah," Tsukishima said, turning away, and Kuroo perked up. He almost thought he saw the blond's body sag as well, his eyes seeming a little less bright than usual. Tsukishima wasn't exactly the most expressive person, so far anyways, but Kuroo knew that look on anyone. He could feel it in the air. Disappointment.

Wait--

Tsukishima gave an awkward wave, making his way towards the building's exit. "Well, I have to go to class. Bye--"

"Tsukki!" Kuroo let the nickname slip, but he didn't have time to be sheepish about it as he grabbed Tsukishima's arm. "What about the study rooms they have here? We can study together later, with breaks of course."

Breaks, as in breaks for talking.

A study date.

It would be his last effort. If Tsukishima turned this down, then he'd know for sure it was because the blond wanted nothing to do with him. But if his suspicions were correct...

If he wants me to keep trying, I'll keep trying.

Those piercing eyes widened, the brightness seeping back into them like a light show, and wow Kuroo was so fucking gay. "You--"

"Like a date, study date," Kuroo clarified, because he'd be damned if things got taken the wrong way. "If you want."

Please want to.

Kuroo realized he was still gripping the other a bit too intimately, and he let go with an apologetic smile. His hand burned, aching to feel the soft skin again. So not the time.

After a few more seconds, the doubt was threatening to invade his chest once more, but he wondered if the blond had done that one purpose. Because as soon as it started, Tsukishima, in all his stubborn, beautiful glory, fixed him with what was nothing less than a full on pout. "I guess. I'll be back from campus by five."

I'll meet you there, went unsaid, but Kuroo heard it loud and clear. What a tease.

But then again, Kuroo loved it.

He nodded, grin way too big for the hour of the morning, and watched as Tsukishima left, obviously late for class. Hopefully the blond thought it was worth it.

All he knew for sure was that he couldn't wait for the evening to come.

"See you then," Kuroo said, his dreamy tone echoing off the peeling walls, heard by no other soul.

"Are you humming?"

Bokuto's sudden entrance nearly made Tsukishima drop his watering can. He cursed as some of the water sloshed out, luckily onto the ground. These particular flowers were delicate, he didn't want to give them more water than necessary.

"Excuse me?" The blond wasn't exactly in the mood to talk, but he'd had Bokuto by his side since childhood, so his friend's loudness and constant chatter was something he'd grown pretty immune to.

"You were humming, like full on Disney princess humming," Bokuto went on, smirking in the doorway to the school's greenhouse. Tsukishima volunteered here because...well, gardening was rather calming, plus no one else was really lining up to upkeep the place. Therefore, it gave him a nice isolated place to sing other than his apartment.

Or, it was supposed to. Bokuto often visited in between his lectures, regardless of Tsukishima's threats to throw fertilizer at him if he did it more than twice a week.

"First off, I have no idea what that means," Tsukishima deadpanned, taking off his gloves. "Second, singing and humming is kind of what we do, remember?"

Bokuto pouted, but didn't give up, trudging forward until he was right beside the blond. "Yes, but you've been humming all day! Not just in private. You never do that," Bokuto said, playfully poking Tsukishima's side.

The blond wretched away irritably, focusing on potting the small plants in the nearby soil. "No, I haven't been," he snapped, and guilt coiled traitorously in his gut when Bokuto flinched.

"I haven't," he repeated, calmer this time as he continued his task. It was all Bokuto needed to perk up again, picking up where he left off.

Tsukishima should've let him sulk.

"Uh huh. In Music Theory you were humming during the quiz, all the guys were staring."

Tsukishima sputtered, eyes widening at the memory of hundreds of eyes on him as he'd walked out of discussion. "That's--"

"And then, you were singing under your breath after lunch, while you were going over your notes!" Bokuto pointed an accusatory finger right in his face, like he was unearthing some sort of conspiracy. "Three guys asked you out in the food court, and that was just before you managed to leave."

Oh right. Idiots. Why couldn't people just leave Tsukishima alone?

Because your voice is the vocal equivalent of an aphrodisiac. Right.

"That happens to both of us sometimes," Tsukishima tried, hoping Bokuto would drop it.

No such luck.

"Yeah but it's rare for you, especially that many times in one day! C'mon Tsukki...you were humming at the coffee shop too, the barista gave you free coffee!"

"He might've just been a terrible employee."

"Tsukki. You know what I'm getting at..."

"No." Tsukishima threw his tools down, pushing soil onto his pants, and his first thought was that now he'd have to go home and change before meeting Kuroo. Stupid.

"There's nothing to get at, stop being insufferable already," Tsukishima hissed, and Bokuto whined beside him.

"It's cute though! You're happy!" Bokuto threw his hands up, cheering, and Tsukishima felt he'd had enough. He began cleaning up at once, eager to move onto the next part of his day. He'd be early for his next class, but whatever. The longer he stayed, the more likely Bokuto was to find out about his study date, and that would make the other's excitement twenty times worse.

Tsukishima couldn't take the teasing. It would be payback for all the jabs and comments he'd made when they'd first met Akaashi.

Nope. No.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

Tsukishima was getting a damn headache. The worst part was that they tended to do this quite often, a habit they'd forgotten to leave back in their childhood.

Besides, Bokuto was, as they say, full of absolute crap. Sure, it was rumored that a lot of a siren's mannerisms and habits could be traced back to their emotions, but Tsukishima had never busied himself with learning any of that garbage. It was more myth than anything. Sirens sang more when happy, less when upset, faster when angry, blah, blah, blah. There were no concrete facts, so Tsukishima refused to entertain the idea at all.

He didn't believe anything Bokuto said, and he was definitely not blushing.

And he didn't care either way that he had a date tonight. Not a bit.

With that, he shoved his friend out of the way as he pulled on his backpack, stomping out of the greenhouse and leaving Bokuto's dreadful laughter behind.

"Um...you're a..music...major? Wow, that's, uh, great!"

Tsukishima looked about two seconds away from slapping him, his eyes void of any life or amusement.

Kuroo smiled awkwardly as he leafed through his chemistry textbook, as if it would provide him all the answers as to why all of a sudden he was a huge fucking disgrace.

"Uh no, wait--"

"It's a surprise isn't it?" Tsukishima said softly, lips quirking up finally.

Okay, I didn't completely fuck up then.

Right?

"Huh?" Kuroo asked, pausing in his efforts to take out his pencil case.

"Because my singing is so awful," Tsukishima continued, his smile growing more and more. "Me being a music major is weird. Right?"

Well, yes. But--

"Is this a trick question?" Kuroo asked, putting his hands up. "I surrender if it is, last thing I want is to offend you."

The blond only laughed, a beautiful sound, waving him off as he too opened up his textbook. "No, I don't mind. I know I'm a bad singer, but I don't think it's necessary. I like what I study."

Kuroo's nerves settled again, and he chuckled lightly. Conversation was never boring with the blond it seemed, he was clever, and his tongue was sharp.

If Kuroo was being honest, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so attracted to someone, eager to hear whatever came out of their mouth.

"You're just a music major? I know a lot of people double when it comes to the art school," Kuroo asked, wishing they didn't actually have to study so he could ask his questions. How was he supposed to focus on formulas when there was an angel sitting across from him?

Ah shit. He was being cheesy in his thoughts too. He was a goner.

"Computer science too," Tsukishima shrugged. "It's practical and I'm good at it."

"You must be pretty smart then," Kuroo said, and he couldn't help the bit of fondness which leaked into his tone.

The blond tensed up immediately, flushing a bit as he scowled at his book. "I don't think I'm much better than everyone else in the major."

"Oh?" Kuroo couldn't help but smile. Tsukishima was far too humble. Music major or not, carrying two was no easy task, and from how extensive Tsukishima's notes seemed to be, there was no way he didn't do well in his classes.

Kuroo could see the neat handwriting, the gentle scrawl outlining important notes and major points to study, all color coded. Kuroo was no slouch himself when it came to school, but he was impressed all the same.

"Chemistry doesn't sound all that relaxing," Tsukishima said, and the look he sent Kuroo's way was nothing less than expectant.

Oh, he's trying to learn about me. That's so cute.

"Yeah but I've always had a knack for it," Kuroo said, proud as ever. It wasn't that he was arrogant about his intelligence per se, but he took a lot of satisfaction in being skilled at what he loved doing, and helping others learn it. "There's a lot of work, but I guess it'll be worth it in the end. I get crap for it sometimes but, no use listening to it."

"Mm," Tsukishima hummed, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and it only fueled Kuroo's curiosity. "I guess that's well put..."

"Oho, a compliment?"

"Don't read too much into it," Tsukishima said with a click of his tongue, bouncing his pencil on Kuroo's textbook. "We're supposed to be studying remember."

Kuroo laughed, mildly disappointed their conversation had ended. But well, Kuroo planned on taking many, many breaks. So it was all good. "Yes sir."

Soon, they descended into their own quiet worlds, but it wasn't awkward. The gentle scratch of pencils on paper, accompanied with the turning of pages was actually quite comforting. It had been a while since Kuroo had studied with anyone, and while the blond could be distracting every now and again, he was covering a good amount of ground.

They had the small study room to themselves, given Midterm Panic™ probably wasn't for a few more days. Complete freedom, complete privacy. Kuroo had never felt more grateful.

They were a few minutes past the one hour mark when Kuroo started to feel it though, and he was reminded of how working in the library had never worked for him in the past.

Too quiet. Much too quiet.

Kuroo had never done well with that. While he needed a certain degree of silence to focus, the total absence of background noise jarred him, drove him absolutely nuts. The constant buzz of nothing was making it harder to focus than had someone been chatting it up a few tables down.

Back in his first year, he'd learned he could only study in places where there was at least some degree of noise. Nothing extreme, maybe some whispers here or there, music playing through someone's headphones too loudly, or even the occasional footsteps as people paced the rows of the library. He needed something. The balcony had never been an issue because, well, simply being outside provided all the background noise he'd needed, without being overwhelming. Insects, people passing, cars driving, and whatever else.

Here he didn't have that though, and it was getting to him. Kuroo started clicking his pen profusely, and it still wasn't enough. Then came the foot tapping, then the knocking on the desk, all in an effort to create some kind of illusion that things weren't completely dead in the room.

"What's wrong?"

Apparently, Kuroo was being louder than he thought.

He met Tsukishima's confused stare, and once more, debated shrugging it off as nothing. But again, those eyes on him made him seem incapable of lying, even if he did want to. He sighed, smiling sheepishly.

"Ah, it's nothing. It's hard for me to focus sometimes without background noise," Kuroo explained, knowing it sounded sort of weird. "On the balcony I usually have all the sounds of nature and shit, so I kinda forgot it bothered me."

"Oh, Bokuto is like that too..."

"Hm?"

Tsukishima's eyes widened a bit, like he'd spoken without realizing, and the light flush which accompanied it was beyond appealing. "Nothing...my roommate is the same way. He listens to music when he studies. Well, if you could call all the procrastinating he does studying."

Kuroo chuckled. He didn't want to let the conversation die now that it had started. Tsukishima was actually sharing things about his life, and Kuroo drank in every single detail, wanting more. But of course, he had to say something.

To think the day would come where he dreaded being a chatterbox.

"Music is a little too distracting, I need like...ambient noise you know?"

"Do you want my headphones?" Tsukishima barely finished asking the question before he was tensing up, his lips shutting in record time.

Kuroo blinked, weirdly giddy about the offer. God, they were just headphones, not a wedding ring. "Uh, you don't mind?"

Again, Tsukishima looked taken aback, but he reached for his bag regardless. "Whatever, just don't break them. Can't believe this..."

Tsukishima's mutterings were amusing, as was the way he tried to seem annoyed at his own generosity. Weirdo.

"I'll guard them with my life." Kuroo saluted, but as soon as he saw the headphones, he almost didn't dare touch them.

They were nice, and that was an understatement. They were obviously top of the line, those large, noise canceling type headphones that actual singers used. They were sleek and silver, shining like they'd just come out of the box. They must've cost the blond a fortune, and Kuroo nearly refused them. It was like he wasn't worthy, as someone who normally bought the shitty gas station headphones.

"Problem?" Tsukishima asked, watching Kuroo intently.

"N-no, these are just super expensive! Thanks for letting me use 'em," Kuroo said, beaming as he connected them to his phone. Finding some noise app shouldn't be too tough...

Tsukishima blushed again, glaring at nothing in particular. "Whatever..."

Singing on his patio, studying music theory, and the best headphones on the market. Tsukishima hid his adoration well, but Kuroo knew how to read people, knew how to pick up on every single hint and clue. So really, Tsukishima actually wasn't hiding much. Or at least, Kuroo didn't think so. He didn't know much about Tsukishima yet, but he did know this, and it made him all the more enthralled.

"You must really like music huh?"

The comment had been a simple observation, but from the way Tsukishima's eyes brightened, his muscles relaxing almost against his will, Kuroo had said exactly the right thing.

Tsukishima shrugged weakly, unable to do much more, his features softening as he tried to hold in a smile. "I guess."

There was so much more held behind that answer, and Kuroo thought to hell with studying. He wanted Tsukishima to tell him everything, because there was no way the blond didn't have an opinion on it.

He set the headphones down on the table, no longer needing them, much to Tsukishima's confusion. He closed his textbook, and grinned from across the table at the blond's confusion riddled face.

Again, still pretty.

The questions ran through Kuroo's head, a force all their own. There were so many places he could start, it was hard to choose, but whatever, he would be there all night if he had to.

Best to just start simple.

"Do you have any favorite bands?"

They'd scheduled their study date for three hours. They were nearing the fifth.

"I can't believe you actually think that's a good movie, I can't associate with you now," Tsukishima said, blunt as ever. But no, Kuroo was not about to lose this debate.

"The effects were amazing! And we got all that backstory from the previous movie!"

"Not enough," Tsukishima insisted, using his book as a shield instead of reading any of the information inside of it. Kuroo thought maybe it was to keep the blond from slamming his hands on the table, like the raven had started to do.

Things were heated, alright?

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kuroo waited, ready to pick apart any number of points Tsukishima thought to bring up.

Kuroo didn't give a damn if he was being stubborn, he loved horror movies, especially ones of the alien sub genre.

Plus, this was incredibly fun. More fun than he'd had in a long time.

"They kept teasing us with random flashbacks that were twice as interesting as the actual movie's plot," Tsukishima said. "If they wanted to make a better film, they'd make a prequel instead of just giving us gore scenes for the sake of gore."

"What's wrong with gore?"

"Nothing, but without a storyline it just gets boring," Tsukishima said, rolling his eyes. The blond had been getting more and more expressive as their conversation continued, his voice growing louder and more exasperated as they debated. It was awesome. "And you can't seriously tell me you enjoyed the forced romance at the end."

Kuroo winced. Okay yeah, that was bad.

Tsukishima smiled, smug and victorious, and hell, Kuroo was ready to surrender just to make sure it didn't fall.

Ugh. Fine.

"Can we at least agree that it was better than the previous installment?"

Tsukishima pursed his lips, contemplative, before clicking his tongue in defeat. "Fine."

As if to signal the truce, Kuroo's phone lit up with a text from Oikawa, asking whether or not he'd been murdered.

How thoughtful.

He agreed about the lateness though. The sun had set long ago, and while it was nowhere near his usual bedtime, he didn't want to keep Tsukishima longer than he wanted. The blond obviously woke up way before Kuroo normally did. He'd have to ask about his class schedule sometime, if he found a way to be non-creepy about it.

"Guess we better pack it in before my roommate calls the police to report me missing," Kuroo said, pocketing his phone and joining Tsukishima in packing up his various untouched books. He'd gotten through one chapter, which was hardly enough, but oh well. He didn't regret slacking off.

After they'd gotten into the music conversation, Tsukishima had opened up. Not all at once of course, given he seemed like just a cautious person in general. But Kuroo knew what questions to ask, what responses to prod at, and soon he was trusted enough to make Tsukishima spill the goods.

First off, whether or not Tsukishima liked to admit it, the other didn't just like music. He straight out loved it. He had over six hundred songs on just his phone alone, and tons of knowledge about various artists and instruments at the drop of a hat. The trivia was interesting, but mostly it was attractive. Not the facts themselves, but the way Tsukishima's eyes flashed with recognition and concealed excitement every time Kuroo referenced a particular song or album.

If the saying was true, and people became ten times more beautiful when talking about things they were passionate about, then Tsukishima should've been illegally gorgeous.

And he was.

Talks about music, during which Kuroo had been recced several bands (thank you Tsukki), the conversation had bled into movie soundtracks, which led to favorite movies, which to favorite genres, and so forth.

Kuroo's throat protested somewhat from all the talking, dry and in desperate need of water. Tsukishima constantly cleared his throat as well, probably in the same boat. The other still seemed stunned, much like Kuroo, about how much they'd actually talked.

Kuroo was on cloud nine, and he only hoped Tsukishima felt the same way.

As if sensing the weird aura of joy Kuroo was no doubt giving off, Tsukishima looked up from where he was zipping up his bag, making eye contact. They'd been talking face to face for several hours, so it shouldn't have been a big deal, but Kuroo still felt a pleasant chill run through his body.

Yeah, you're a goner dude.

"Um, I'll walk you to your door." Kuroo stood, taking his own backpack as he handed Tsukishima his headphones.

The blond reached out to grab them, his hands landing awkwardly on the sides, close to where Kuroo had gripped them. Their fingertips brushed against each other barely, not even for two seconds, but it made Kuroo's night all the same.

Tsukishima nodded, hiding his face in his coat's collar. "Yeah, okay."

Tsukishima didn't know what the hell was wrong with him.

He'd talked more to Kuroo in the past six hours than he had the entire school year, at least to anyone but his friends. And he'd shared his stupid interests too...

Why had he done that?

Going on and on about his dumb songs on his phone and movie soundtracks, who cared about that kind of thing? Why did he care if anyone cared?

This is annoying.

And offering his headphones? His most prized possession? He hardly let those things out of his sight, much less out of his care. Giving them to someone else was essentially unheard of. Bokuto borrowed them once without asking and Tsukishima had eaten all the other's pop tarts in retaliation, carbs be damned. He hated pop tarts.

Fucking savage.

And yet he'd willingly handed them over to Kuroo without any kind of protest. Something was seriously wrong. Maybe he was getting sick...

Yet, as the elevator opened to his floor, he knew it wasn't the case. The rapid beating of his heart and the strange disappointment welling up inside him couldn't be blamed on the common cold.

He wasn't too fond of the alternative answer either, at least...not yet. Tsukishima kept telling himself Kuroo was still being tested, but he wasn't quite sure where he planned on drawing the line when it came to proof.

Kuroo followed him to his door, their steps being the only sound in the building. They'd been talking just fine all the way up, but now...

The silence was thick, the air around them charged in a way which made no sense. It had been a date technically, Tsukishima had agreed to it. What did people do after dates?

What did Tsukishima want?

He'd never been in this situation before, where a strange yearning kept building in his chest. A situation where something seemed to be missing, where there was an unknown next move begging to be taken.

He tried not to think about it as he dug out his house key. Maybe once he opened the door everything would fade away, though that didn't exactly feel right either.

Why did everything about this have to be so annoying? All because he'd decided to sing freely on his balcony one night...

Kuroo leaned against the hallway wall, watching him intently, his face giving nothing away for once. He was focused, almost terrifying so, on Tsukishima hands as they fished out the key ring.

An excited surge traveled through Tsukishima, making his skin heat up. He often hated being the center of attention, but Kuroo was starting to make him greedy.

And whatever, Tsukishima was fine being a brat, even if he didn't acknowledge the feelings behind it yet.

"See you later I guess," Tsukishima finally said, still debating on whether or not it was polite to thank Kuroo for a study date where they hadn't actually studied. Instead, he bit his lip and shoved his key into the slot.

"Next Friday," Kuroo said, and Tsukishima's hand froze as the lock clicked.

"Huh?"

"Go out with me next Friday, once midterms are over," Kuroo said, smiling in apology. "Since it's pretty obvious we can't study together."

Tsukishima, with no other real solution for how fast his heart was beating, resorted to his best skill. "You were the one who wouldn't shut up."

"Hey."

"Where?" Tsukishima asked, unable to contain the stupid question. He refused to admit he was eager, or even elated than Kuroo had asked him out again. The raven was just a chemistry nerd with bad jokes and worse hair, which somehow (probably through witchcraft) ended up looking attractive.

Ugh.

Kuroo, to put it lightly, looked baffled. "Oh, you want to go? Really? With me? Okay, uh..."

Tsukishima couldn't help but snort. "Did you not think this far ahead?"

"To be honest I'm pretty convinced I'm dreaming, so no," Kuroo sighed, his tone almost too dreamy to be taken seriously. Embarrassing. Who was this guy?

Although, I wouldn't be surprised if I was dreaming either.

Tsukishima tried not to flush from his own thoughts.

"Either way, you can still answer the question," the blond muttered, suddenly unsure of what to do and where to look. His hands were still on his keys and the door handle, frozen awkwardly and no doubt clammy as hell.

"Bowling?" Kuroo offered, his grin already growing.

"Bowling?" Tsukishima repeated, squinting a bit. It wasn't a bad idea, just a bit non-traditional, not to mention random. "Why?"

"First off, because it's fun," Kuroo said, like it was common sense. "But mostly because I just wanna kick your ass."

The admission literally made him tense. After all, since when did Tsukishima back down from a challenge?

He hated losing.

He wouldn't lose.

With a smirk powerful enough to intimidate death itself, Tsukishima pushed his door open.

"You're on."

#kurotsuki #kurotsukki #adri writing #haikyuuwriters

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