#anyway LONG LONG TAGS IT FEELS LIKE ITS BEEN AWHILE SINCE A CHARACTERS MADE ME WANNA WRITE LONG TAGS. excellent. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cryptidofthekeys · 2 years ago

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May the hymn of the [Angels] sing thee to thy rest

Lmao of course Imma write something inspired by the Spamton Sweepstakes live stream! It’s fuckin analog lookin horror ass is the prime material for me considering I wrote a cryptid themed Sneo a year or so ago

so now its finally time to give just normal Spamton the same treatment, its not uh gonna be FULLY canon compliant with the actual stream btw- I tweaked it like SO much to fit with what I was writing-

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TWs: Violence, Blood, Gore, Death, Strangulation, Unreality (just in case), and Vomiting (if I missed a tw please let me know so I can go back and retag, I always try to tag my shit to the best of my ability but sometimes I miss one so please don’t be afraid to tell me!

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You looked up at the abandoned building that stood tall, you made sure to capture the sight with your camera, it wasn’t the tallest building you’d ever seen of course but it was still a pretty good size, there was a tense aura surrounding the place or so you could feel anyways… You decided to tell the camera your name and a bit about yourself before explaining what you were doing out here “See… I’ve been planning this for awhile now, after that stream… That… Weird stream that got leaked out, I wanted to investigate this place!” Yep! You continued explaining to the camera what you were doing here and why, you had planned this for a long time now.

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Ever since that weird live stream had leaked out, it was originally on one of those weird dark web sites but someone had managed to spread it to the rest of the internet and then everyone had started talking about it, you remember watching it and at first you saw nothing really wrong with it, sure it was a bit strange but then you started noticing the sheer creepiness of things. You started noticing something was wrong, this wasn’t just someone selling bootleg merch or anything like that, you noticed at some points during the stream the dude who called himself…

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Spamton A Spamton or something like that but that man, he looked not only unsettling himself but he seemed deeply unsettled by something as he kept glancing to the sides, he must’ve been looking at something that wasn’t on camera.

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Not only that, but you swore you heard another voice in the background, it was someone just whispering things, you never caught what they were saying but anytime that individual spoke you noticed ‘A’ flinch but he seemed to be following along with what the voice was telling him as his attitude changed entirely, you could tell he was trying extremely hard to push down any fear and anxiety he seemed to be experiencing in favor of selling those weird products. You also took notice throughout the stream as it progressed that ‘A’ seemed to be getting sicker, he was coughing and making some rather grotesque sounds, almost like he wanted to vomit.

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At one point you noticed ‘A’ beginning to look desperate and you swore he even mouthed ‘help me’ to the camera before suddenly snapping back to a chipper attitude to continue selling those weird ass products. ‘A’ honestly just looked like he was sick and in pain at one point but he was still trying to push it down and hide it, honestly the entire thing made your head spin as you tried to figure out just what was going on…

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You saw some phone numbers pop up through the static and then a missing poster that looked an awful lot like Spamton A but without the weird face paint of course, of course you couldn’t forget Spamton B …Yeah, he seemed actually genuinely chipper and excited at first but you did notice him at some point break character and look directly into the camera, he blinked a few times and at first you didn’t quite get it.

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But then it hit you… And you felt a pit in your stomach when you realized why he was blinking so weirdly, it was morse code and not only that, he much like Spam A was calling out for help, he was blinking an SOS and he looked very desperate before suddenly looking over to the side.

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You noticed his eyes widening and he looked scared before things cut to static, acting like it was almost going to commercial, which you didn’t understand considering it had been a live stream and not… Not a shopping network on TV but either way that was the LEAST of the worries, the next time ‘B’ was shown he was grinning but it looked forced, way too forced… Could a human even grin that wide without ripping something? You remembered leaning in closer to get a better look and that’s when you felt absolutely sick to your stomach, you could see the tearing of flesh as his mouth was stretched up into a far too wide grin, despite the grin you could see tears in his eyes.

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He looked like he was in agony, he was struggling too but he couldn’t seem to get up no matter how hard he tried but there was nothing holding him down or at least nothing you could see, eventually a wanted poster appeared, showing this weird little white puppet looking thing… It was just a mugshot and showed a number to call if you’ve seen this man but you felt like he was staring directly at you.

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He couldn’t have been though as this was just, well technically speaking a video of the live stream but that wasn’t the point, this was just a video, he couldn’t have actually been staring at you, you were just getting creeped out, that’s all. Eventually, there was a cut in the stream that said some people were taking action against this as they were basically stealing from them, the products and then that weird carbine knife …Whatever that is.

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You also took note that he said this ‘Spamton’ hired him but then… After all that, you could see the look of pure horror on Spam As face, he tried desperately to just play it off and act like he could handle things, just playing it off for a few moments, trying to show everybody a ‘Spamton Sniper Rifle’ before weirdly enough, an FBI Warning popped up in the back, upon noticing it he suddenly turned toward the camera

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“Uhh- Oh- I’m not Spamton! I’m not Spamton! Please just let me go! Please! This wasn’t my idea, I swear! I was hired, I’m just an impersonator!” He began babbling that he was hired by this Spamton guy and that he was only impersonating him and then you swore you heard a weird laugh in the background.

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The laughter made the man pause and quickly glance over, you saw his eyes noticeably widen and then he started saying ‘no’ over and over as he ran off the screen, the camera seemed to fall off of whatever tripod it must’ve been on, the fall causing it to crackle with static and the lens had even been slightly broken upon impact.

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You remembered all too well what you saw next, you saw a pair of legs slowly walk past, shoes thumping against the floors, the camera had crackled with more static however as not even a few moments later you heard a weird distorted voice speak but you couldn’t understand it, you never got to make out what it was saying but then you heard a scream and then a loud thump before the video had ended.

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…But, aside from that, you weren’t just exploring this place just because you were oh so curious… No, you had a good reason, plenty enough of a good one… “...I’m not just exploring this building to explore it by the way, I’m… …One of my friends leaked that stream, and ever since then they have started acting… Weird…” You paused, you felt a shiver go down your spine “They just seemed like they were going completely insane… They talked about hearing a phone, like one of those old rotary phones ringing but they… Didn’t own one of those, they heard some weird voice calling out to them on occasion, and sometimes they’d… They’d…”

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“...They’d have nightmares, strange nightmares as they’d describe but they never said what the nightmares involved… And then they’d find strings… …Either strewn about or worse, tied to their limbs, and then eventually they dropped off the face of the earth, it’s like they just straight up vanished …I… I have a bad feeling it’s because of this place because they were completely fine before they got involved with that creepy ass stream, so I’m going to find out what happened to them” And then you explained this camera was to document things and not only that, but if you needed any evidence, you took one more look at the building before heading forward.

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There had been some no trespassing signs put up around the area and even some tape that said ‘Do not cross’ though the police hadn’t been here in a long time… They wouldn’t be much help anyways, you knew from… Experience… All they did was put up this tape and not let anyone near for months, your friend hadn’t been found yet, but it seems like they just gave up, they never have been any help, the area had become overgrown too it seemed like.

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You didn’t waste anymore time outside and headed into the building, the door you pushed on made the awful creaking sound you had ever heard before, you had your flashlight on so you could see in the building, you looked through the lens of your camera and you noticed just how dirty and dingy this place was, you cringed in pure disgust at the filth and dirt around.

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As you headed even further in you saw some dried blood staining the floors and that made you shiver, you had hoped it wasn’t your friend’s blood, you had honestly hoped they were alright, you tried calling out their name but of course there was no response which you didn’t figure there would be, you sighed and continued into the building, it seemed so much bigger on the inside than it did on the outside so if your friend was here there was no telling where they were, if they were even still alive… You could only hope they were, you could only hope…

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You then turned around and noticed there was a flag on the ground, you walked over and inspected it, it was the same one from the live stream with that weird… Puppet looking guy on it, all it said was his name, you shook your head and turned away from it and then you noticed the weird paintings hanging up on the wall and then the window that was floor level. You walked over and knelt down albeit cringing while doing so because these floors seemed like they hadn’t been cleaned in ages. You noticed that the window didn’t actually lead anywhere outside, rather there was just what looked to be a large painting behind it, of the sky and clouds, a false sense of freedom or so it felt like anyways.

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Looking at the painting made you feel uncomfortable so you quickly got up and dusted yourself off with one hand before looking around with your camera some more, the next thing you saw was that podium that Spam A stood behind most of the time or well what remained of it as it looked like it had been completely broken apart. You continued on into the building, you glanced over at the logo on the wall momentarily that read out ‘SVN’ . . . ‘The Spamton Value Network’ but decided not to linger there for too long, you ventured deeper and deeper, this place really looked so much bigger on the inside than it did the outside, there was even an upstairs and a downstairs… Of course you’d save the downstairs for the very last if at all, you headed into some of the other rooms, the doors creaking violently any time you opened one.

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Weirdly enough, you did take notice when you were in the other room, there had been couches and coffee tables, it almost looked like… Someone lived here at some point, whether it had been kidnapping or by choice, considering the furniture it was clear that A and B along with someone else had resided here at some point, you looked around once more but found nothing of use in this room, it just looked like items were strewn about and thrown and you even saw some stuff that looked very broken, there was nothing that’d be of any use to you in this room but you filmed it anyways for a few moments before moving on.

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You wandered into a few different rooms, there was nothing in most of them, maybe a few things strewn about or things that looked like they were thrown but nothing of interest, nothing that’d help you find your missing friend… Eventually you found that phone room, there was a smell in here that made you almost gag right then and there, it smelled like death… But you didn’t see a body, you remembered seeing it at one point on the video, you stepped inside and glanced toward the window and unlike the other one you saw in the main room, this window was real, it actually lead somewhere outside so you made sure to keep a note of that in case you needed a quick escape later on and then you looked over and saw the black rotary phone sitting neatly on the table.

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Upon closer inspection you noticed that the phone actually looked… Clean… No dust or debris or anything on it and that made you feel much more on edge, you had really hoped nobody was still here or anything like that, you turned around your eyes widened, you let out a loud scream and almost dropped your camera and your flashlight at what you saw next, there up on the ceiling was a body held up by several green strings, the body was limp and it looked like they had been dead for a long while now, you felt completely sick to your stomach, you felt like you’d vomit any second if you looked at it any longer or smelled it, that was definitely what you smelt when setting foot into this room but you needed to make sure it wasn’t your friend.

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You sighed and shook your head, you should have just ran right then and there but you… You needed to make sure… You slowly took a few steps closer and examined the face and to your relief and dismay all at once, it wasn’t your friend’s body but it was Spam B’s, he still had the nose on but the rest of his body had been decaying, he still had a grin that was far too wide or at least what was left of it anyways, but even then that wouldn’t last too much longer because then you saw the bugs, so many bugs feasting away at the decaying flesh, trying to strip away what they can from the body before it’s all gone, you shook your head and turned away, you needed to get out of this room, as you began walking to the door that’s when you heard the phone ring, it made you let out a startled yelp.

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You were getting real sick and tired of this already, you just wanted to find your friend, preferably alive and healthy and get them back to safety, get them away from this place, you just wanted your friend back! You slowly turned around, the phone was still ringing, how did that damn thing even still work…?! You made your way toward it and reached out a hand only to hesitate, wait… Why…? No, no! There was no reason for you to answer the damn thing, you didn’t have time for this nonsense but yet, strangely enough, you felt almost as if you were being drawn to it, drawn to the phone, the ringing felt like it only got louder and louder the longer you stood there.

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You took a deep breath and picked the phone up, holding it to your ear “...Hello…?” You called out, your voice was noticeably shaky as you listened for something, anything on the other end… . . . It’s nothing but Garbage Noise… You were completely at a loss, it was literally just static and god knows what else all amalgamated into one, it actually hurt your ears to listen to it but after a few minutes the noise stopped entirely and everything fell silent once more, you looked to the phone and then called out a hello a few more times but nothing, you then slowly placed the phone back in its spot and stood there, just completely at a loss…

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You turned back around and quickly walked out of the room, not even daring to look back this time, you took a deep breath, your body was shaky which must not have looked too great on camera but you couldn’t help it, the more you lingered around in the place the more nervous you felt, you even swore that you had heard a voice call out to you on occasion. You tried to ignore it though, this was for your friend, you had hoped they were in here as you began calling out their name, of course there was no response, why would it be that simple? You just wanted to get your friend and go home, you quickly headed up the stairs, it was almost like a tower, the stairs winding up around until finally you reached the top.

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There was a long hallway with a few doors, you wasted no more time in opening them up, the first door you opened lead to what looked like a master bedroom, there was no big bed however, only a dirty looking mattress and you saw some weird blue egg looking things, one even had a Pink Bow on it, you decided not to get too close to them and just shut the door quickly and awkwardly, you went to the end of the hall and opened up those doors but it turns out those just lead to bathrooms, nothing of interest in there at all so you sighed, getting more frustrated by the second, was your friend even here? Were you just wasting your time? …You had to be sure either way, so you continued on, the next two rooms were just more bedrooms, dirtier and dingier than the last.

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The second didn’t have much of anything in store for you so you didn’t venture in there but the third however, had a bunch of photos that were crossed out with markers, scattered, and or torn up entirely but then you noticed on the walls… There were a bunch of tally marks scrawled all over the walls along with the name ‘Spamton’ and then as you stepped further inside you noticed something that looked like a hole that was being formed in the wall, and you also noticed a tool that could’ve caused said hole to appear, was someone… Trying to break out of here…?

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You then saw a book that looked like a journal sitting on the dresser, you walked over and set your camera down in order to pick the journal up, you opened it up and blew into it, coughing when a bunch of built up dust flew out, after the coughing fit you had you shined your flashlight onto it, at first the entries actually seemed normal which was a complete shock, the first entry talked about this man and his friend having just gotten hired to do some kind of fun live stream project for someone. He talked about the basic gist of it, prizes being given away via sweepstakes, et-cetera, stuff like that, he talked about being pretty excited for it though! And then it hit you… This was either Spam B’s or Spam A’s journal.

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You continued reading the journal and it was fairly normal for most of it, he talked about the guy’s name, said it was Spam…. Ton? He spaced out the name and added a question mark, seemingly unsure of how it was spelled or anything really, he didn’t seem to question it too much though as he said the guy seemed nice, a bit strange and unhinged but nothing dangerous about it, the only thing he was truly complaining about was this guy’s ego, he was extremely egotistical and full of himself. It got on him and his friend’s nerves a bit but they were going to get paid a LOT of cash to help set up this live stream and such so they could manage it until all was said and done.

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Overall the journal was fairly normal, just talking about the project, having some fun it seemed, and even enjoying themselves, one of the things that were kinda weird is that Spamton guy wanting them to dress and act like him but he said he’d pay them extra and so they decided it’d be alright and so they did all that, he seemed to be wondering just when this little stream was going to start…?

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Your eyes widened a bit as you got to the next few days, it seemed things were starting to get weird, like… Really bad… You read on, the man talking about his friend, very worried about him as he started acting strangely in the last few days, his friend was apparently talking about some kinda phone ringing in his head, he swore he heard Spamton’s voice but he wasn’t there and even then, when he asked the guy if he had been there and was just fucking with him.

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The guy stated no, he doesn’t do jokes like that or anything, his case usually seemed to hold up to his friend but that didn’t stop the weirdness… He went on to write about both of them having weird nightmares in the last few days but neither of them seemed to describe what kind, and then they’d find strings randomly around the place and then sometimes even attached to themselves and they swear that sometimes…

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They could feel the strings pulling on their own, he described how he felt like he was going crazy, that they needed to get the fuck out of here, screw the live stream and the money, he couldn’t take another day in this place, he just couldn’t…

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You felt a pit in your stomach, that… That was the EXACT same issues your friend had been having before they mysteriously disappeared! You didn’t like this but continued on, the writing seemed to get more frantic, describing how his friend had started acting as if nothing bad were happening, acting completely normal about all this which he didn’t understand fully but he knew something was wrong with the other.

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He needed to get him out of there, right the fuck now… He wrote down the notes that the other seemed to stiffen up or get increasingly more nervous and stressed when Spamton came around, he was acting so casual about it however, like he didn’t even notice it but it was so clear! …That guy, he did something to his friend, he just knows it! And then he wrote about how he was going to try getting some answers, maybe snoop around and find some things.

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You flipped the page and you saw only that guy’s name, scrawled out in big letters, and then a few other things… You saw the word ‘Big Shot’ a few times, something about angels, g o d, puppets, it was honestly such a mashup of different words it made your head hurt to read.

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The pages continued like this for the longest time, he did talk about how the only person he could trust was Spamton himself, saying there was no one else, only him… Before finally the pages returned to SOME sense of normality, the letters were still scrawled but you still managed to read, the first bit was him laughing before talking about how he feels like he’s completely lost it, that ever since he and his friend came here, they had been slowly losing their minds, this place, that guy, something was happening to them, he could hear the phone ringing, Spamton’s voice in his head so clearly, he was trying so hard to fight whatever was happening to him but he was beginning to feel so weak.

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And then he went onto say he had to get out of here, he had to, that began to repeat on the next two pages, just scrawling over and over again that he needs to get out of here, and then he went on about how his progress was in vain, it seemed like the layout of this goddamned place changes somehow. He KNOWS it changes, because some of these rooms were NOT here before and then others are in places they weren’t, he had talked about trying that window in the main room but of course it had just been a false sense of hope, and then he continued on to say that he didn’t know how much hope he had left, but he still hoped he could get him and his friend out of here and then he mentioned how they never should have fucking came here, he can’t call anybody, their cellphones are dead and that damned rotary phone he found…

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It just plays nothing but garbage noise, it can’t dial out or anything so it was practically useless, you had taken notice of the dates he had left behind too, it seemed he skipped out on writing some days, during these last few pages though, there hadn’t been any dates, but this very last page had only question marks, he mentioned that tomorrow was the live stream…

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…He doesn’t know what Spamton wants or wanted from them but he continued on to say that he knows it can’t be anything good, that he and his friend were going to die tomorrow, they had been here for god knows how long at this point, he had lost track of time and he was losing the last bits of his mind, he started writing goodbye to his supposed loved ones, knowing he’d never get to see them again and then… The book ends there, that made your blood run cold as you thought back to the video at hand.

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These dudes… Had been trapped here for god knows how long, they had been kidnapped by this… Weird guy, and whatever this place was doing to him or whatever HE was doing to them was making them go insane, you shook your head opened up the bag you had carried with you and then placed the book inside, you looked at all the tally marks and then the desperate digging, trying to make a hole, you felt sad

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“...I’m sorry…” You apologized to the both of them, not that it’d make much of a difference, an apology couldn’t bring people back but then you began to realize, your friend had experienced those same symptoms or whatever, you had hoped and prayed even that your friend was alright, that they were still alive even as you picked up your camera and began heading out of the room, you were heading toward the stairs again “Psst!” A voice called out which made you freeze in place, your eyes wide, you felt that pit in your stomach get much worse as you stood there, unmoving.

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…You stayed like that for a few moments before a distorted sound echoed around you, it sounded like the voice was saying… Something but you just couldn’t make out what…

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You slowly began to turn around, hoping that maybe it was just your friend finally but no… It was much worse… The door all the way in the back was fully opened, and… …W-Wait… Was that door there before? You recalled back to what that guy was saying but there was surely no way that something like that could happen but then you noticed in the darkness surrounding the room, there were a pair of… Eyes? …You saw pupils at least so it must’ve been eyes, they were pink and yellow, whatever it was only stood there watching you, you felt your heart pounding, the both of you just standing there, completely still, not daring to move or even to speak, the silence was deafening, suffocating even.

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It stayed like this for the longest time, so many things running through your head before suddenly, a loud distorted chuckled echoed through the room and that’s when you ran down the stairs as fast as you could, you did drop your flashlight in the process but you didn’t dare look back as you just kept hearing that chuckle, it almost sounded as if it were repeating like a broken record but it was so loud and unsettling, you continued to run, it felt like these stairs were longer than before but it was surely just your imagination. Eventually you did make it to the end and looked around, you needed to find a way out of here and now, especially with the newfound impending threat of footsteps against hardwood floors.

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You looked around and were about to run for that telephone room, knowing there was an actual window in there but then you heard a scream from downstairs and you gasped, you called out your friend’s name as you ran down the stairs immediately, tearing open the door as you looked around using the camera’s night vision to help you see, you spotted your friend who was wrapped up in those weird green strings on the wall, they saw you and their eyes widened, they screamed out your name, tears pouring down their face, you ran over, setting your camera down and quickly began to try and tug at their strings, they were sobbing and crying and just calling out your name over and over again along with asking you to please help them.

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“Just hold on! Hold on…! I’ll get you free, I promise! I’m not leaving without you, I came here looking for you, and just… O-Oh my fucking god… Fuck…!” You felt sick as you looked at all the marks on them, the first noticeable thing as you managed to snap a few strings is that said strings had dug into their arms, it looked so painful but then you noticed the claw marks and it looks like they had even gotten bitten, they had some puncture wounds here and there “What the hell happened to you?!” They just continued to cry and shook their head. They didn’t seem to care about saying right now so you continued to snap strings until finally you got them down, you helped them down to the floor, they sobbed “Hey, hey! HEY! Look at me, look at me…!”

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You forced your friend to look at you “Listen, you’re gonna be okay…! I’m going to get you out, now, can you walk? Can you walk?” They shook their head “I-I can’t… P-Please… Please, I-I don’t… I don’t wanna die…! I-I don’t wanna be a puppet…!” They began to babble about puppets, strings, and then they said something about hearing a phone ringing “Hey hey hey… S-Shshshshhh! It’s okay, it’s okay, just… Hang on, just, block the noise out if you can, try to at least…! I’ll get you out” They shook their head “N-No no…! He’s going to get me…! He’s- He’s-”

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They began repeating that ‘he’s’ going to get them to which you tried to calm them down about, you took them gently by the shoulders and made them look you dead in the eyes “He’s NOT going to get you…! I don’t care who it is, if it’s one of those guys who might still be alive or if it’s that Spamton guy himself, NOBODY is getting you, now come ON!” You quickly ushered, helping them run with you, you took notice that there were now lights on which wasn’t good but you didn’t stick around and focus too much on that, the two of you quickly headed up the stairs, you were trying to console your friend who was still shaking and sobbing, they had also begun to mutter some weird things but you didn’t have time to focus on what they were saying.

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You glanced up the stairs, the place where you saw those pink and yellow eyes and shook your head, you quickly headed the other way with your friend in tow, you were running back to where you first entered however upon getting there your eyes widened, there… There was no front door, there was nothing…! It was just a dark void with a few chairs in front, it felt as if this was some kind of stage “God… Dammit! Okay, this way, there’s another way” Your friend shook their head “We-We… We’re never… go-gonna get… G-Get out of here…” You somewhat glared, not at them but at this place, that man really was right, this place changed and morphed around but this was no time to question your reality “We’re GETTING out of here, don’t worry… I-” You suddenly paused as you felt something dripping down onto you…

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You looked at your shoulder which was covered in something red now, you slowly looked up and then screamed which startled your friend who looked around before looking up and screaming with you, there, hanging from the ceiling, was another body… It was none other than Spam A hanging from the ceiling by strings, blood was dripping from somewhere on him but you didn’t have time to investigate that. You then ran with them toward the phone room. You then quickly kicked open the door to the phone room and took notice of the phone being off the hook, it was making an awful noise but no time for that, you and your friend gagged at the smell of death and rot but quickly pushed past it.

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You set your friend down momentarily “I need to open the window, just sit tight…” They didn’t seem comfortable but hell who would be after this? You didn’t even have any inkling of what they went through either! You then proceeded to start trying to pry the window open but it was no use, that window wouldn’t budge at all, after a few moments of desperately trying to pry you made a frustrated sound “Alright… That’s it, that is fucking IT!” You yelled to which your friend looked startled by, you apologized for that but then asked them if they could stand again to which they sucked in a deep breath and tried, this time they actually managed to stand albeit a bit wobbly “Good, now stand b a c k…” They looked confused but did as you told them and then you grabbed that damned phone.

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“This thing can go straight to hell…!” You then lifted it high above your head before chucking it as hard as you physically could through the window, the loud shattering of glass echoed through the building and then you both heard that chuckle again and that sent your friend into pure hysterics, they went into a panic but you quickly rushed over, you grabbed the chair and cleared any bits of jagged glass that was left behind and then you went over and grabbed your friend, shushing them and leading them to the window.

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You quickly helped them up, they scrambled, desperately trying to get out of the window, you had heard footsteps again, they weren’t super close but you could hear the shoes against the hardwood floors, you had quickened your pace even more now as did your friend who finally pushed themselves up and onto the ground and then they looked back and held out their hand “Give me your hand…!” They cried, you were about to but then your eyes widened in realization, they began calling out your name, asking what was wrong, and that there was no time, to give them your hand!

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“...M-My camera… I-I need to go back and get my camera!” They shook their head “Don’t! Don’t be fucking stupid! Come on! Forget the camera!” You shook your head “I need my camera! We need evidence! Because if we try to tell anyone about THIS? They’ll never believe us, just, look… Go, go and escape, I’ll be right behind you!” Your friend shook their head “N-No no…! I can’t leave you…! I-I don’t wanna leave w-without you…! PLEASE!”

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They begged, you could still hear the footsteps “There’s no time to argue…! Just g o…!” Your friend tried to retort but then they shook their head and hesitantly pulled their hand back “...I-If he catches you…” You quickly interjected “He won’t, I don’t care who this bastard is, he won’t get me so go ahead, I’ll catch up, I promise” Your friend was still completely hesitant.

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…But they did relent finally with a sigh and then they backed away “...Please be careful, g-get th… that… Camera… A-And… And… Get out of there” You nodded and then heard them beginning to run and you did the same, running back to the door, you stopped before running fully out of the room and just peeked outside, looking around for any signs of who might’ve been walking around but you saw no signs of anyone so you decided to quickly rush across the main room.

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Avoiding the blood that was dripping onto the ground and then running back to those stairs, it was halfway across the room last time but this time it felt like it took so much longer to get to them, once you got to the basement stairs, you wasted little time in rushing down them and sure enough you saw your camera right where you had left it.

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You went over and picked it up, looking over it and noticing that the battery was running a bit low now but you didn’t have time for that, you then turned around and began running back to the stairs but you stopped dead in your tracks before even daring to go up, eyes widening in horror at what you saw, standing atop the stairs, blocking your only exit, it was that…

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Weird puppet looking guy himself, he was grinning like usual but it didn’t look like he had much of a choice but to grin “LEAVING SO [S o o n]?” His loud voice echoed throughout the building, that was the exact same voice you heard from the live stream video only this time, you could hear it m u c h clearer.

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You glared up at him which only caused him to chuckle “You… Fucking bastard… You kidnapped those people, did god knows what to them, fucking MURDERED them…! And then you… You did the same to my f r i e n d…!” You spat at him but he hummed, amusement clear in his voice as he spoke

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“I NEEDED SOME [Bodies] TO SELL THESE PRODUCTS! THEY DON’T JUST SELL THEMSELVES YA KNOW! AND THEY WERE THE PERFECT [[P u p p e t s]] TO DO SO, NOT ONLY THAT OF COURSE BUT ALSO TO GET THE [Feds] OFF MY BACK AS WELL! …OR SO I [[T h o u g h t]]... HE TRIED TO [Tell the World]! TRIED TO RAT ME OUT’

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You shook your head, your nose wrinkling in disgust “You… You’re sick, you are really fucking sick in the head…! But I’m not scared of you”

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Spamton seemed to perk up at that “OH? IS THAT A [F a c t or F i c t i o n]? His voice glitched out at that last bit, his tone dropping, he sounded rather sinister and you wouldn’t be lying if it hadn’t made you a little nervous but you didn’t want to let that show, it did however make you wince because how much it echoed and how loud he was “Yeah, that’s a fact…! You aren’t scary, I mean just… Look at you, listen at how you sound…!” Spamton cackled, his laugh glitching out, loud static crackling through the air.

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“WELL… THAT’S NOT HOW YOUR [F r i e n d] FELT ABOUT [Lil ol’ me]~!” You glared and began stomping up those stairs “You…!” The other tsk’d “AH AH AH! MY [New Puppet]! TAKE ANOTHER STEP AND YOUR [Friend] WILL [D i e]...”

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You laughed at that to which he seemed confused by “Psh! Yeah right! My friend escaped! I got them out of here and away from you… Whatever you are” There was a pause momentarily before he burst out laughing, almost falling over in the process and now it was your turn to be confused “YOU REALLY THINK SO? YA KNOW WHAT… COME WITH ME AND SEE FOR YOURSELF! YOU WON’T [Believe your e y e s]!” You scoffed “Yeah right, like I’d ever come with you, now get out of my way-” And suddenly, you felt lightheaded… “Wh-What the f-fuck…? Wh-What’s happening…?! U-Ugh… M-My head…”

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He laughed at you “DO YOU [R e a l l y] THINK YOU’RE THE ONE IN [C o n t r o l] HERE? THAT YOU’RE THE ONE CALLIN’ THE [S h o t s] LOOK AT THIS [Place of Residence] AND TELL ME… DOES ANYTHING ABOUT IT SEEM [Normal] TO YOU?”

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You looked around slightly, moving your eyes rather than your body and then you began to notice… The room felt like it was shifting, the walls looked like they were swirling, it made you feel sick to your stomach along with the increasing pain in your head “THIS [Place of Residence] BENDS TO MY [Every will]! [[T h i s i s M Y D o m a i n…]] I AM THE [[G O D]] HERE!” You could hear the crackling in his voice, and then the faintest sound of him grinding his teeth, he was slowly walking down the stairs but you couldn’t run, it felt like you couldn’t move even if you wanted to

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“I [Pull The Strings] AND [Make them ring] HERE! I CALL THE [SHOTS] AROUND HERE! I’M NOT THE [P u p p e t] ANYMORE… [[Y o u A r e. . .]] And then, your vision began to blur, you couldn’t see anything but you could feel something happening to your body, you tried to struggle against it but it was no use, you couldn’t move at all.

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. . . And then… Before you knew it, it was like you blacked out or something… It didn’t last long as you then gasped as your vision cleared up, you tried to look around but you noticed that you couldn’t move your head no matter how hard you tried, in fact you felt something attached to yourself, you looked down using your eyes and saw strings attached to you, your eyes widened with fear, you looked around with them once more before noticing you were back at the main stage but that was the least of your worries as you saw your friend, they had strings tied to their arms, legs, and even their neck, you tried to scream their name but you couldn’t even speak.

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Their head was limp, in fact their whole body was limp… You continued trying to scream their name but it was no use, no matter what or how much you tried to scream, nothing came out… Your voice just wasn’t there, you heard a cackle and slightly looked over to the podium where you saw Spamton standing, his shoulders just resting on said podium, head resting atop his hands “DO YOU SEE [The Truth]? I AM NO LONGER THE [P u p p e t] ANYMORE! YOU TWO ARE [M Y P u p p e t s] NOW!” You glared at him, wanting to tell him that no matter what, you and your friend weren’t his goddamn puppets, you would never do what he wanted but this made him cock his head to the side.

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Amusement is still ever so evident in his tone “OH? YOU DON’T WANT TO DO [What I say goes]? WELL [Aw, Too Bad!] CAUSE YA AIN’T GOT A [C h o i c e]! YOU’RE [C h o i c e s] DON’T MATTER IN THIS WORLD! IN FACT…” He trailed off as shifted positions, his head no longer resting atop his hands but in fact he held one of his arms up in the air and suddenly your arm began raising and no matter how hard you tried to fight to put it down it just kept raising further and further up until it was at a painful angle and despite not being able to voice your pain, it was evident in your expression and this got a laugh out of him, he lowered his arm and then thankfully yours lowered too but then he held both of his arms up, not to the point where it’d cause you pain but just enough to prove his point.

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You glared over at him but there were definitely tears falling from your eyes, he got off his podium and walked over to you, getting way too close for your comfort, he might’ve been smaller than you and your friend but that didn’t make this situation any less terrifying “CRYING ALREADY? WOW… YOU ARE MUCH [W e a k e r] THAN YOUR FRIEND! IT TOOK [S o L o n g] TO BREAK THEM… AND YET I SEE NOW… I SEE THEY STILL WEREN’T FULLY [B r o k e n] SO I MUST GIVE [Credit where Credit is due!] YOU HELPED YOUR OL’ PAL SPAMTON SEE THAT!” And then he paused, glaring over at your friend, he flexed a finger and suddenly their head was raised, they seemed dazed before realizing who was in front of them, their eyes widened and they began sobbing fully, you could visibly see just how much the sobs shook their body.

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Spamton took a step toward them and their cries and sobs just got worse and he did something else with his hand and now they were actually moving, they were thrashing around, trying desperately to get out of their strings but those were bound much too tightly to even think about trying to break them. They thrashed about like an animal trapped in a cage, it seems they were only making the pain worse for themselves though as the more they struggled the tighter the strings got until they were digging into their skin, he took slow steps, dragging this out way more than it needed to be, he was just doing it for his own sick and twisted amusement.

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You tried screaming out for him to get away from them but again, you couldn't, you had no voice, the only way you’d have a voice is if he LET you have it again… But that didn’t seem to be one of his priorities at the moment as he finally stopped in front of your friend, he motioned his hand down and your friend suddenly began kneeling down to the ground, they tried desperately to stop themselves from doing so, trying to get free “P-Please…!” They suddenly shouted, they had been sobbing so he must’ve been letting them speak, the sick fuck.

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“Pl… Please… Please le-let me go… D-Don’t… Don’t hur-” Before they could even continue, he began slowly lifting his hand, raising it up to the sky “MAY THE HYMN OF THE [A n g e l s] SING THEE TO THY [R e s t]!”

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He laughed and you saw your friend slowly being raised up into the air, at first you were confused but then you heard them start to gag and choke, they were struggling and crying, desperately trying to speak but it was no use now, they were practically being hung at this point, none of the other strings supporting their body, what’s worse is the struggling wasn’t helping matters any on their part but what else could they do? You tried desperately to break free from your own strings.

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You tried to scream, to say something, ANYTHING! You were looking at your friend who was desperately trying to take in a breath but they couldn’t, you needed to think of something and fast…! You thought back to just a few moments before, it seemed as though he could somehow hear your thoughts, he was somehow in your head… You quickly thought of the words you wanted to say right now.

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“L-Let’s make a deal… Please…! Please, please, PLEASE!’ You cried out in your mind and it seemed to catch his attention as his gaze snapped over to you, the strings on your friend’s body suddenly supporting their body, they wheezed and gasped, sucking in as much air as they could which did cause them to cough and splutter some more but they were just so desperate to catch a breath.

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Suddenly Spamton was walking over to you, your friend still high in the air and still very much in danger, you glared down at him somewhat but he didn’t seem to mind “A [Deal or No Deal]? WELL… NOW YOU’RE SPEAKING MY [Languages]! ALRIGHT, I’LL [Hear ya out]! S P E A K…” And you tried to speak, just testing if you could and you made a sound which you were oh so thankful for, you took a deep breath.

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“O-Okay… I-I um… L-Look, I… I’ll do… I’ll do what you want… I’ll do anything y-you want, I-I’ll G I V E you anything y-you want! Jus… Just please… P l e a s e… L-Let my friend go, let… Let them go, they don’t deserve this” There was a pause, an eerie silence became present for the longest time before he began laughing and waving his hand around which caused your friend to go back and forth and left to right which concerned you, they looked sick and sure enough they vomited right onto the main stage.

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“THAT’S YOUR [D e a l]? HOW… [[P a t h e t i c]]! YOU SHOULD LEAVE THE DEALMAKING TO YOURS TRULY~! TELL ME… WHY WOULD I LET YOUR FRIEND GET THEIR [F r e e d o m] WHEN I GOT A 2-FOR-1 [Specil Deal] ALREADY, HUH?! TWO [Puppets] OF MY VERY OWN TO [C o n t r o l]!” You felt the tears begin to fully run down your face and you sobbed, you just wanted your friend to go free, to be able escape this hellhole at the very least.

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“P l e a s e, wh-what else do you want…? T-There’s gotta be s o m e t h i n g, just… P-Please let them go…!” Spamton hummed slightly, he seemed to actually be giving it thought and this made you feel somewhat hopeful, you looked back to your friend who was just looking down, tears piling onto the vomit they had just spat up a moment ago, they were shaking, completely terrified and you wouldn’t be lying if you said you weren’t terrified too, if you hadn’t been scared before, you damn sure were now...

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“...NOPE, NO [Deal]! YOU TWO ARE [M i n e]! I’M GOING TO [K e e p] YOU HERE… [C o n t r o l Y o u]... WE’RE GONNA DO S O MANY [G r e a t] THINGS TOGETHER… WELL… UNTIL I [B r e a k] YOU TWO ANYWAYS… OR IF I GET [S o B o r e d] OF THE BOTH OF YA! WE’LL [Tune In] TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS [E v e n t u a l l y]~!” He began just cackling now.

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And just like that all hope was drained from you right then and there, it seemed your friend was already beginning to give up hope as well, but they had been there longer than you, they had been tortured for who knows how long, and you knew he was going to do the same to you as well, until you two broke or until he gets bored, and then you had no idea what that’d entail, you could only assume the worst possible outcome if he breaks the two of you or gets bored of you both… Neither of you were going to get out of here… You were going to be forced to do what he wants, maybe just like the last two or even worse than that.

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You took notice of your friend’s head going limp and for a moment you worried but Spamton quickly spoke up “[R e s t] UP NOW YOU TWO [2]... WE’VE GOT SO SO SO SO SO” He began glitching out, repeating ‘so’ a few times over before finally continuing on “SO MUCH [Get to work] TO DO… BUT ON THE [Bright Side of Things] WE’VE GOT S O LONG… [So v e r y v e r y long…] TO SPEND TOGETHER IN… [[H E A V E N]]...” You scoffed at that, heaven? …Maybe it was heaven for him but it was going to be hell for the both of you, you knew that much…

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Either way you looked at this situation, you two were going to end up just like the last, on missing posters, being driven insane, being tortured, hell who knows what all he wanted to do with the both of you... You remembered all that one guy had written in his journal, he was going absolutely crazy in this place, having nightmares, hearing voices, hearing that damned phone, this place... Just... None of this felt real, you barely had the time to question your reality as your vision was beginning to blur, the only thing you did know is that you and your friend were going to be his new puppets.

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Just puppets for his amusement, nothing more and nothing less it seemed, because he didn’t seem to have any goals in mind or anything more he wanted or maybe he just wasn’t telling you because what’s it to you? Either way… Your choices… Don’t matter… Not anymore.

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hjfgdkfgjds I challenged myself hard with this one y’all- lmao,, okay so- the trope I talked about hating is the whole going back to get an item you left behind/forgot about, I fucking HATE that shit so much but I wanted to add at LEAST one of those things and I decided it’d be funny if I added the one I truly despise so that,, uh happened I mean... Even if ya hadn’t went back to get your camera, do ya think it’d make a difference? ...I’ll let YOU decide that one :)

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Another thing that woulda really changed this story drastically- I wanted to add a reference in here so badly, it’d be a reference to nightmare on elm street, I think it was... Dream Warriors? (If I’m mistaken feel free to correct me) but there’s a scene where one of the characters is basically used as a puppet ...Only uh, without the actual strings and more so a use of tendons but I cut that out to go with well... This weird ass lil ending

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And the funniest bit is, the next two stories involving this creepy ass motherfucker is literally going to be cute n fluffy <3 so enjoy the horror, peep the horror if you will =)

#spamton #spamton g spamton #spamton sweepstakes #not fully canon compliant #tw unreality #tw vomiting #tw blood #tw gore #tw death #tw violence #tw strangulation #The Cryptid's Writings #happy spooky month everybody lmao- enjoy this weird fucked up shit

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noodlegirl-googlyeyes · 2 years ago

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hey! im noodle, or Ellie, and i was tagged to answer some questions abt myself by the wonderful and very rad @theprocfilesystem, thank you so much!

relationship status: single and not at all looking. i don't know if i ever will be, tbh, mostly just because i don't see myself as the kind of person who would want to. but, since it's late, i'll go ahead and overshare that i do have a regular hookup going with my main gal lliJ (im left handed) that meets my needs for sexual expression quite adequately

favorite color: for a long time it was deep purple! it was my sadboy color for sure. now that im a girl, though, it just feels sad, so i decided my favorite color would be yellow! so, yeah, its yellow :>

favorite food: carne adovada, a New Mexican dish made with Hatch red chile and (usually)pork! red chiles are dried and ground, as opposed to the green variety, which is usually roasted fresh. sauces made with red chile tend to have a very dark, smoky flavor, and have a particularly exquisite spice to them. there are many varieties of a protein in a sauce eaten in/on some carbs, but a carne adovada burrito really stands alone, for me <3

the song stuck in my head: unfortunately, it's 'Hip to Fuck Bees'

the last thing i searched online: i had to start typing in the word 'etiquette' because i couldn't remember how to spell it, but the last actual search i made was 'wired switch controller'(im just gonna get the gamecube style one probs)

the time right now: 11 pm exactly

dream trip: honestly it's less about the location and more about me being somewhere with someone who knows the area and culture well. partially it's because i won't enjoy anything if i don't feel safe, and/or if i feel alone, and partially because i hate being a tourist. i just wanna be there.

something i want: ive wanted to get a PC for awhile, it's been years since i had one. it doesn't have to be super fancy, just something that can handle a half-decent DAW and, like, be able to play my metroidvanias (lone fungus is out now btw and it looks amazing!) cherry on top would be someone to help me get started using linux, bc windows and apple can both go fuck each other.

thanks again for tagging me UwU i appreciate u! i would like to nominate @star-crossed-animals , @spoopyscaryalien , @dominoscarsidedelivery and @zoeadrien but u dont have to if u dont want to! also if u wanna do these kinds of games but no one ever tags u, u always have my permission to say i tagged u :>

in addition i'm adding another question: whats a piece of media(book, movie, show, album/song, etc.) that you feel represents you or an aspect of you that you haven't seen a lot of representation for? i know it's kind of wordy, sorry. but for example, mine is bojack horseman. when i was deep in my dark times, there were so many things about myself i hated. i started watching the show around season two, and i saw some of those parts of me in bojack in a way i'd never really seen before in media. in diane i saw some too, as well as some of the things i'd forgotten i loved about myself, but it was mostly bojack. he is not a good character, or role model, and the fact that i related so much to him was disturbing, sure, but also strangely comforting at the time. as the show continued to air, i grew as a person. i never finished the last season. by the time it came out, my values had diverged so much from his that it was kind of hard to watch. and for all my mistakes, i'm so proud of who i am today compared to that lost, lonely, angry figure slowly torturing himself to death.

like i said, its late so im oversharing lmao anyways ty again and peas and love on planat earf ✌️

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i-make-fun-of-spn-characters · 3 years ago

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i actually did think you didn't like sam and cas for the longest time, but it's more than your bias for dean is evident. it took awhile to see through that and understand you are coming at sam and cas out of love and in a fun way and just happen to like dean more. there are a lot of other blogs that make digs at characters (esp sam and cas) in a NOT fun way, but pretend they "love all of TFW" and that's on me for lumping you in with them.

You know Anon, back when I used to post absolutely NOTHING except for memes, and also had a Sam banner and icon, someone asked me who my favorite character was, and I made it a poll because I was curious how good of a job I was doing keeping my content even. Lo and behold—they chose in order by vote percentage:

Sam

Cas

Dean

Jack

Then as the poll has stayed up ever since, I think Dean and Cas have traded places in the voting (but by now everyone knows Dean is my favorite). But a very large percentage of people did not know Dean was my favorite starting out. I was surprised, because I do indeed love Dean very VERY much. It isn't that I don't like Sam and Cas—but to me, Dean is possibly one of the greatest characters of all time. I could not possibly put into words how much I enjoy his character and all of the reasons why he's touched my heart. There is just no one out there quite like him in my mind. I think my bias for Dean has come through more in recent times—especially since the finale, because I miss him very much and his shitty death gutted (DON'T) me.

I think watching the show, when you look at the story only through one characters' lens, it's very easy to resent the others for not being perfect friends/family/brothers. I have even seen someone voice the sentiment before, "To some degree, to love Sam is to hate Dean, and to hate Dean is to love Sam" (paraphrasing). The thing is, when you genuinely look at your favorite (whether that's Dean or Sam or Cas) and look at their motivations and feelings and actions, it's clear that they love each other very much. That's an unavoidable fact in my mind. Both the best and worst things they've done have been at least partially motivated by the love they have for one another. I cannot, ultimately, dislike Sam or Cas knowing how much Dean loves them. To hate them would be to hate a part of Dean that is innate to who he is—his love for his family—and the choices and sacrifices he has made due to that love. It would be to say that there is something broken inside him that makes him unable to make the right choices about who should and should not be in his life. It would be to say that the foundation of the show, at the center of which is Dean's heart and how people around him are pulled inside of its orbit, is something tainted and unworthy.

It would also be to say that Dean's mistakes are okay and theirs are not, because you will find countless parallel events and threads tying their different actions together in ways that are different but also are often very much the same, if you get their motivations.

I think, for every stan out there of any main character... it would be a good idea to watch through the show trying to see it through a lens besides that of your favorite. I did this with Sam, and I am currently doing a rewatch where one of the goals is to focus on Cas's point of view more. Nothing can give you greater compassion and understanding than trying to step inside someone else's shoes, and having done this is one of the primary reasons I can't bring myself to follow many SPN accounts I have come across on Tumblr, because resentment runs rampant in many places, over characters or ships, and I don't care for that negativity. It's also the primary reason I started this blog to begin with. I wanted to carve out a positive space, where I didn't completely refuse to engage with the characters flaws (god knows fandom won't shut up about them anyway), but a place where I pointed out their flaws only to say those flaws are okay, don't make any one of them more unworthy of love than any of the others. Those flaws (at least—the ones I agree exist... there's a lot of flaws attributed to Sam, Dean, and Cas that I don't agree with at all) are what makes them human (err... or angel, respectively). I am not interested in Mary Sues (and I am definitely not interested in fans who sand down characters into Mary Sues to escape any semblance of their favorite being "problematic"). Just show me why they make the choices they do, even when those choices are broken, and I'm compassionate and I'm fascinated. I dare anyone to do better than the characters did with the cards they were dealt—with the lives they lived.

I can't say I've had the same experience on Tumblr as you with blogs pretending to like Sam and Cas while having a clear bias for Dean... I've tended to see quite a lot more of the opposite or worse. There are, after all, several blogs dedicated to absolutely nothing except trying to spread outright hate for Dean, and there was a time not long ago that you could not even go in the Dean tag without seeing countless ugly posts spewing vitriol about him (that has faded significantly since the show ended). But I think we're all bound to be most wise to the bias against our favorites (hell—I have picked up on someone's dislike of Dean from a gif blog before... and it was later confirmed that I was right). This is also part of what feeds the culture of anti-ism in the fanbase. People watched these characters for 12-15 years, and they latched onto one of them, and they know that character, and in many cases find identity and comfort with that character, and they see that character accused of terrible things that really aren't accurate at all, and the kind of innate human response to that is to want to do the opposite—hate their favorite because they hate yours. I think it's clear that that isn't what we're really supposed to get out of SPN. I don't think the intended narrative is that Dean hates Cas or Sam or that Sam hates Dean or that any one of them is unworthy of love and acceptance or is perfect or is too flawed. People can choose the narratives they want, but I'll continue vehemently disagreeing with them and making fun of them with the tag #don't feed the stans after midnight.

#being serious for 5 seconds #spn finale poo poo #mail #don't feed the stans after midnight

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yoshichao · 3 years ago

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the Smashers and their Host - Chapter ??? Preview

Series: Super Smash Bros.

Characters: Reader, Literally Everyone In Super Smash Bros Ultimate

Summary: You’re an inter-dimensional being that owns a huge estate situated on the cusp of spacetime. You’ve been asked to rent out your mansion for the upcoming Super Smash Bros. tournament. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Reader-Insert, Romantic & Platonic Harem, Comedy, Fluff, No Smut

Read the fic here!

[hi a year ago i was writing a chapter about characters getting sick but then a pandemic happened, making this no longer as fun to write. as a result i’m not going to be posting this one for awhile... but i’m going to share the beginning portion of it anyways. hope you enjoy?]

"Room service!" you call out, peeking into the room with a friendly smile and a tray in your hands. Upon your arrival, Marth sits up in his bed and tries to offer a smile in return... but it is visibly weak, marred by puffy eyes and a flushed face.

"Well this is a pleasant surprise." The Altean prince's voice sounds different from what you're used to. It sounds like he has a stuffed nose... which he does, of course. "If anyone was to be bringing me soup, I would have expected it to be Peach."

You step fully into the room, nudging the door shut behind you with your hip before making your way over to the bed where the prince lies. "It was Peach's idea to make soup for everyone," you confirm, "but after we started delivering it to people, I think the full brunt of the illness hit her too and I told her to go lay down."

Upon discovering that over half the Smashers residing in your mansion had come down with a cold, you took it upon yourself to be a good host and play a part in helping everyone make a full recovery. Of course, having lived alone and illness-free for god-knows-how-long, you were a bit at a loss at what to do... and thankfully Peach was all-too-happy to lend a hand. You recall she seemed tired from the beginning but did her very best to hide it, and an hour and a cauldron of hot soup later, the exhaustion seemed to hit the princess all at once. It took some doing, but you eventually managed to convince her that you and the rest of the team could take it from there. She (and Samus, who was rooming with her while mansion repairs were still being done) was one of the first people you delivered to, and her warm, grateful smile was enough to convince you that you could do this. You can trek across the mansion for hours to deliver supplies to forty or so different people all day.

Even with your handy "shortcuts", it's more draining than you thought.

"Oh dear." Marth chuckles weakly at your explanation. "Thinking about it... for as long as we've been in Smash together, I don't think I've ever seen her fall ill before... I suppose I didn't even imagine it happening to her."

You have a feeling that Peach has gotten sick in the past - she is just very good at hiding it and powering through it. You're certain she would have continued doing that this time as well had you not convinced her otherwise. However, instead of saying any of this, you simply shrug while placing the tray on the bedside table.

"Well, she is a princess. You can't have royalty looking all unkempt and snotty - that wouldn't be right at all."

Marth needs a moment before he realizes… you are making a jab at him. The prince is flustered for a moment before he lets out a laugh, which you respond in turn with a cheeky grin.

“Do I look that bad?”

He is visibly unwell, but you feel inclined to soften the blow to his vanity. “Nah, I’m just teasing. Anything else you need before I go?” You can’t help but glance around Marth’s room under the guise of checking if anything in particular is missing. You respect your guests’ privacy, so you haven’t been in many of their rooms after the move-in - including Marth’s. His room is fairly plain and orderly - the only thing that really screams “Marth” in here is the mannequin that is adorned with his familiar Smash garb. Said mannequin also holds his sword, Falchion. You suppose storing an outfit with armour on it in this fashion is easier than trying to keep it in the closet or in a drawer. Though considering you don’t see any other articles of clothing lying about, perhaps the closet is just full?

...How many clothes does this guy have?

You’re curious now, but decide not to pry.

“Thank you, but I should be fine,” Marth replies, bringing your attention back to him. “You’ve done enough already. Merely visiting me was plenty - you’ve certainly been a sight for sore eyes.”

For a moment, you’re flustered… but then you remember this man is currently sick in bed. His thoughts are probably a bit jumbled and unfiltered. And really, who wouldn’t feel better knowing there was someone bringing them soup? Beauty comes from kindness and within, et cetera et cetera. All these excuses and more fill your head as you effortlessly wave away Marth’s silly words - you, a sight?! Ha ha! Why, isn’t that saying often used platonically as well? Yes? Maybe? You are drawing a blank.

You’re so lost in denial that you forget to respond aloud. Marth seems to take your silence and (unbeknownst to you) goofy smile the wrong(?) way and starts stammering out an apology, possibly growing even more embarrassed than you are.

“I-I didn’t mean… What I meant by that was… Well, it’s not that I didn’t mean it, but I mean, I find you… quite… um…”

“If you want a sight, next time you need something I’ll be sure to send in the cutest maid we have on staff,” you joke, easily shifting the conversation to more comfortable territory. Marth relaxes at the topic shift and chuckles lightly, still looking a bit embarrassed.

“I’ll never live that moment down, will I?”

“Nope!” Your first embarrassing encounter with any of the Smashers has been so diluted by increasingly hectic and bizarre moments that you find it more funny than embarrassing these days. Well, you say “these days” like it wasn’t just a couple weeks ago that that happened… So much has happened since then that it feels like it has almost been two whole years! Really, it feels like the tournament should have started by now. Crazy how time works like that, huh? Ha ha.

Anyways.

“Anyways,” you say aloud, not sure where that oddly guilty train of thought came from. It was almost like someone was trying to speak through you to express their feelings. But that’s ridiculous! Best not to think about it anymore. “I’ve got more soup deliveries to make, so if you need anything, just…”

Oh. Oh wait you don’t have a system in place for this, do you? And you’re pretty sure most of the Smashers don’t have cell phones… Gah, you knew you should have implemented an internal phone line! Maybe you can ask Master Hand to sneak it in there while doing mansion renovations for future needs. If you do it, you’d have to do it in every single room one by one, which sounds exhausting. You already have a lot on your plate today!

“Don’t worry,” Marth says, “it’s only a cold. If I need anything, I have enough strength to get it myself.”

You open your mouth to protest but… actually, he has a point. It’s not like anyone seems to be sick with the flu or anything. And most of the Smashers are adults - they are all perfectly capable of getting up and retrieving anything they may need or want. Well, R.I.P. to anyone staying on the top floor because you still don’t have an elevator, but… they can at least leave a message on the door or something. Whatever.

This is already proving to be a very good learning experience at how unsuitable your mansion is in its current state for hosting this many people. You’ll have enough experience and knowledge by the end of this that you could run a rental business in your realm if you wanted.

“Well, if anything changes and you start having trouble, just leave a note outside the door,” you decide definitively. Going door-to-door to check on people would be tiring (and you’d also risk disturbing people who are sleeping) - but taking a walk through the halls every couple hours to check for notes or whatever? Easy. Even your shortcut-less partners could manage that.

Speaking of your partners, you should really be getting a move on.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Marth replies, wordlessly giving you the go ahead to skedaddle on outta here. “Thank you again for this.”

And he gives you such a kind and warm smile despite his ailment that you are practically stumbling out of the door, unable to figure out why it feels like there are butterflies inside you.

...Helping people out is good. That’s all.

Shaking away the strange feelings this encounter brought, you pop yourself back into the kitchen, where you are instantly greeted with the smell of hot soup. The room is warm thanks to the literal cauldron y’all made a day’s worth of soup in with Peach’s help, which remains on perpetual heat. There are only two Smashers in the room right now: femme Robin, who is using a laddle to scoop the soup into bowls and prepare the trays for delivery, and R.O.B., who is just on his way out with a tray balanced on his metallic arms. He stops when he sees you appear from nothingness, staring silently at you for a moment before turning his head back to a neutral position and rolling out of the room. Shrugging off the encounter, you approach Robin and the table of food trays.

“A couple more down - how many are left?” You spot the stack of trays that haven’t been prepared yet, each with a Smasher’s name stickied onto them. “Oh. That’s how many…”

“You work a lot faster than the boys do,” Robin chuckles, her voice notably different-sounding than usual. You’re pretty sure she’s sick too, but unlike Peach, she hasn’t been overwhelmed by it yet and waves away any concerns you’ve thrown her way. “R.O.B. can only carry one order at a time, and the Pikmin keep spilling or dropping things… or eating it. Shulk is… well, I think the stairs are too much for him.”

“That’s understandable,” you chuckle. Yeah, your team is not the greatest for this job. But you’re still thankful for the help. “You are giving him orders for people on the lower floors though, right?”

Robin gives you A Look before gesturing to the soup and the pile of crackers and bread… among other world-specific foods that are apparently good to eat when sick. “Hey, I’m busy putting everything together here! I don’t have time to tell everyone where to go! Just pick up a tray and go, that’s what I’ve been saying.”

Oh geez, not even you’re completely familiar with the rooms that the Smashers chose for themselves. You can imagine Shulk having to search every floor just to find the name he’s been looking for is on the top… Thankfully Peach managed to round up any and all roommate scenarios before leaving to rest, or else this could be even more hectic.

“Fair enough,” you relent, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the others’ hardships. It is admittedly funny to think about, but you intend to work hard enough so no one tires themselves out at what would otherwise be an endless task. You’re hoping that after this first round, you’ll all have a break when you only have to deal with specific orders… until dinner time, of course. Then this chaos will begin again.

“Ugh, and no one has even delivered food to my poor, sweet Lucy yet!” Robin groans dramatically, hand to her head like she’s acting in a movie. “Here I am, selflessly toiling away for the sake of everyone else, while my only daughter continues to suffer! Oh, won’t somebody deliver this soup to her in my stead?”

“Uh… Yeah, sure, I could do that. Or if you’d want I could stay here while you--”

“Oh you will?!” Robin cuts you off before you can finish, grinning as she scoops up the tray with Lucina’s name taped onto it and forces it into your arms. “You’re a lifesaver! A knight in shining armour! I’m sure she will be SO happy to know someone as sweet as you is looking out for her…”

With an awkward (but amused) hum, you accept the tray and adjust it so you’ll be able to grab a couple more. Before you can start browsing the selection though, Robin starts coughing - first soft, but then she’s leaning over and hacking into her arm. Uh oh. “Robin, why don’t you go lie down? I think the rest of us can take care of things from here.”

“No no, I’m fine. Really,” she says, considerably less bombastic than before as she manages a smile. You can tell that it’s forced. “Someone has to prepare all this food and look after the kitchen!”

She’s… not exaggerating. Olimar’s Pikmin tend to sample the selection any time they’re in here to pick up another delivery. And then there was the one time Kirby came in today…

...Best not to think about that nightmare.

“Well… maybe you can at least take a break?” you suggest, not wanting her condition to get any worse via pushing herself too hard. You all may need the help, but… you’re sure you can manage! “There aren’t too many trays left to prepare--” Ten isn’t much, right? How much work could it possibly be to put food on a tray? “--and we could just have Shulk or R.O.B. watch the kitchen.” You’d volunteer yourself, but like Robin said, you kind of are the most efficient person on hand right now. Even Palutena has this cold - there’s no one with teleportation powers well enough to lend a hand.

Robin puts a hand to her face, clearly considering your offer. You notice how tired she looks now that she’s not overcompensating her energy to hide it. “Oh, but…”

“You could bring a tray with you,” you tempt. “Go lie down, eat, maybe read or watch a movie? Then maybe in an hour if you feel alright you can come back…?”

The tactician is silent, envisioning the possibilities you are proposing. Finally, she nods and steals a random tray, ripping off the name and sticking it on one of the empty ones. “Alright, you got me. I’m convinced. Say hi to Lucy for me, okay?!”

With a cheeky grin, she leaves the room with food in tow. Briefly you wonder if she had been looking for an excuse to go sit down for a while now…

After Robin is gone, you start browsing the trays so you can deliver more than one order in a single trip. Should you try for a bunch on the same floor as Lucina, or should you grab some for higher floors instead so your partners can catch a break? Just as you think you’ve made a decision, a certain Monado Boy enters the room with an empty food trolley.

“I ran into Robin on the way here,” Shulk says in lieu of a greeting. He looks tired, but devoid of any cold symptoms that everyone else seems to have. “She said she was taking a break but seemed rather… excited about it. I don’t suppose that means we’re down another member?”

“I guess we’ll find out if she comes back or not,” you chuckle. You’re pretty sure Robin is a fairly reliable person but… she can be rather sneaky about her true intentions. “Either way, I think we’ll be fine! We can do this!”

Your positivity is infectious; Shulk returns the smile, albeit weaker than yours. While you’re certain he’s probably just tired from running around so much to help people, you can’t help but ask him again:

“Hey, are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re not sick too or anything?”

Shulk shakes his head. “I told you before, I don’t seem to have it. Really, I don’t feel sick at all.”

When you asked him earlier, he told you that he had a weird history of never getting sick at the same time as his friends. He just never seemed to catch the same bugs as them. His explanation for it was as good as yours - which was no explanation, because he doesn’t know how it happens either. Just luck and coincidence, probably. When you try to imagine Smashers with strong immune systems, Shulk would have never been at the top of the list. He just… he looks so frail! But you can’t fight the facts: he’s one of the only human Smashers who is still perfectly healthy right now.

“How about you?” Shulk asks, returning the question. “You haven’t started feeling sick, right?”

He must be worried that you are going to ditch him too. “Nope! Like I said earlier: I don’t get sick. Like, at all.” You honestly can’t remember the last time you had gotten sick. Certainly not since you “moved into” this world, which was… well, it’s been awhile! Assumedly, it’s just one of the many perks of who you are and the realm you live in. Regardless, it’s been long enough that you’re convinced that “virus immunity” is one of your many undefined abilities.

Unfortunately for you, “not being a clumsy fool” is not one of your cool superpowers.

“Oh no!” You let down your guard for just a moment and accidentally let the trays in your hands tip, dumping all the food and utensils onto the ground. Man, you’ve been doing so good today! Shulk helps you clean it up, but a certain issue remains.

"Ugh, what if specific foods were on those?" you bemoan aloud. "I can't remember what came from each tray…" And you don't know anyone's tastes well enough to remake them. Though you suppose you could just leave the soup plain… put a bit of everything on the side…

"Who were they for?"

"Lucina, Yoshi, and Villager."

"In that case, I think…" Shulk picks up a blue-and-white bag among the mess. "...this is for Villager."

This makes perfect sense. "Now for Yoshi… probably all the fruit?”

Shulk ponders for a second, then nods. This also makes perfect sense. The two of you put all the bananas, berries, and peppers onto Yoshi’s tray.

“That just leaves the soup for Lucina!” You grin and rush over to the still-warm soup pot and fill a new bowl. “That was easier than I thought.” You are pretty sure you didn’t make any mistakes whatsoever. Except… wait a minute.

“Didn’t I deliver this earlier?” At your query, Shulk glances over to the particular tray you’re pointing at. It’s labelled for Peach and Samus, but you’re certain that this was one of the first deliveries you made!

...Wasn’t it?

“Um.” Shulk seems just as puzzled as you were. “Honestly, I’m not sure…”

You try to reach further back into your memory, but it seems to get further and further the more you try. Today’s events have been a blur of chaos and confusion. “...I guess I’ll just do it again??” It doesn’t matter if you can’t remember doing it, if the tray is here then that means you have to deliver it! You pick up the tray and put it on your trolley, then start loading the trolley up with more and more trays until it’s full.

“Oops, I almost forgot…” You turn and look at Shulk, who is also loading up a trolley. “Shulk, can you take Lucina’s? Robin asked me to, but I’m out of space.”

The two of them seem like good friends anyways, you’re sure Lucina will be more happy to see Shulk than to see you.

“Sure thing.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you start pushing your food trolley out of the room. As soon as you’ve exited the kitchen, you warp to the second floor of the mansion. Static dances on your skin from the instant transmission, but you ignore it as you approach Peach’s room.

[hello again its me, this is the end of the preview. there wasn’t much to it and it ends on such a Nothing note but i hope you liked it regardless. one day this will end up in the fic, but not anytime soon i think lol. i hope you have a good day/night.]

#the smashers and their host #fanfiction #super smash bros fanfic #tsath #super smash bros #fanfic preview

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years ago

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Heavy in Your Arms

Prologue

Summary/Author’s Note: Back from the service and hell bent on drinking his way through Southern California, Tig Trager is a rambler. He's alone, he's lost, and he likes it that way. He stumbles into Charming, a quiet town with a large presence in the form of the motorcycle club. Here he finds more than he bargained for, and something else he never thought he would deserve.

I got a message about this story awhile back and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. This is the story Tig fans begged S*tter for and he never delivered. I have really been missing Tig lately so I edited this from its original form that I posted seven years ago. I originally posted this as an OC under the pen name thatlassiegotglassed - Which was my original AO3 back when I was foolishly ashamed of my fic. Now I don’t give a fuck.

Pairing: Tig Trager x Reader Word Count: 1624 Rating/Warnings: Language, death, violence, blood, typical SOA stuff, eventual smut

[Masterlist] [One Shots/Drabbles]

"Yeah, I dumped an FXR on the I-5 and the poor bitch slid right in front of oncoming traffic...Found out she was pregnant. Really loved that one..."

June 21st, 1993

The roar of the big trucks and the swishing of the smaller cars blazing down the freeway filled his ears and would have been calming, but they were out of place. He had been asleep, safe in his own bed, the cars from the road had never been this loud. He shifted slightly and instead of cool sheets under his hand, he felt the grit of the blacktop and the wet clumps of side-road sand, rough against his skin. He did what he did every morning and slid his hand down, looking for you. You would hum contently as he wrapped his big hand around your hip and pulled you back against him so he could smell your hair, nose you awake--but he wasn’t in bed.

He had had a dream, a wonderful dream, that he had been riding. His hands had gripped the handles as the sun played hide and seek with the oncoming rain clouds. The crisp smell of the spring air had tickled his nose and filled his lungs as trees and the tall grasses of the fields outside the city whipped passed him. You were a comforting weight at his back, and every time you squeezed your arms around his middle it brought a smile to his face.

The weight on his head let him know he was still wearing his helmet. With slow movements, he reached up and unclipped it, shoving it off and letting it bounce against the road.

Everything hurt. Fuck. He coughed, the movement pressing his cheek back to the cool blacktop, the air from his mouth blew dust particles up and made him shut his eyes.

Except this was no dream. And you weren’t next to him.

Shit.

He had been riding and it started to rain, and the semi cut him off and--

“Doll?” he said, his voice feeling like razor blades down his throat. He repeated but with your real name, hoping it would get your attention more than any of his terms of endearment.

When you didn't answer, he knew something was wrong. A silence had fallen around him, all he could hear was the ringing in his ears, as he saw your body laying twenty feet from him. Your helmet had fallen off, hair spilled to the side, blood flecked your temples and down your cheeks.

He started crawling, using his forearms to drag himself closer to you as other cars came to a halt and people started yelling. If he got to you, if he reached you--everything would be okay. You would be okay.

You had to be.

January 1st, 1991. Somewhere in Southern California

He had met you on a Friday. A pretty calm day, where the world was relaxed in a way that he was not. How could he be? Alexander 'Tig' Trager was, how did they say, 'fresh off the boat', back from his service, he had made it. But, he wasn't concerned with doing it ever again.

The whiskey burned his throat. It was cheap but it was plentiful and he had no plans on stopping. He would take that pathetic government check and he would put it in the pocket of the first shitty dive bar he found.

“Hey, doll!” he said, raising his empty glass at a leggy blonde standing by the bar and shaking it slightly.

She gave him a scowl, turned her nose up and quickly walked back over to a different table to sit down with her small group of friends. Apparently, she didn't work here. Shit. He almost felt like an ass. Almost. The feeling quickly went away and he contemplated getting up for a refill.

“Hey, if you're not using it, then get off.” A gruff voice said from behind him.

Tig looked over his sun glasses at a large man. The man was obviously referring to the fact that he was sitting on the pool table. With a neck that seemed to thick for his face, and large, ape-like arms that dangled worthlessly at his sides, Tig knew if it came to blows, this asshole was toast. He hadn't had a good fight in awhile and just one look told him that this could be the itch he needed to scratch.

He put a cigarette between his lips and took his time lighting it. With a lazy hand, he pushed his glasses into his short, black hair. “But I am using it, man.”

“Move.”

“Nah--”

“Listen, pretty boy--”

“Pretty boy?” Tig said. His blue eyes flashed and he smiled. The second was one of his true talents, he could twist his lips and flash his teeth, in a way that made men run for the hills and made women fall out of their skirts...or so he had been told. “I've been called lots of things, brother. But that?”

“Just move your ass, okay?” the ape-man said as he jerked a thumb back towards the bar.

Tig didn't like being told what to do. It was one of his weaknesses according to his higher-ups in uniform. They had tried to break him, get him to bend and take one in the ass for Uncle Sam, but he refused. He wasn't about to do it for some low life in some shitty, middle-of-no-where bar.

He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke over his shoulder. His pulse evened out, his breathing stayed calm, his subconscious entered that special place right before he spilled someone's blood on the pavement.

“Alright, one,” the guy started to count.

“Oh, you’re counting, now?”

“Two.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Two and a half.”

“Three,” Tig finished for him and pressed the lit end of his smoke into the man's forehead. He may have looked like an ape, but the bastard squealed like a pig. He brought his elbow down in the middle of the man's back as he doubled over and clutched his face. Tig shoved him to the side as one of his friends came at him at a run.

“Fucker!” the second man yelled and managed to land a solid right hook to Tig's cheek.

The prick was wearing rings and Tig knew there would be blood without even looking. As he fell back against the pool table, it screeched across the hardwood floor and a few patrons jumped out of the way. His hand landed in a puddle of beer as he knocked a glass over on the felt and his brief moment of mourning was cut short by another blow to his face. That did it.

With a growl, he headbutted the other man. Skull connected with skull and he gripped his shirt, jerking him towards him before he could fall and sunk his teeth into the man's ear. Tig dug his hands into his hair and shoulder, kept his neck at a ninety degree angle and didn't stop till he felt the skin split between his teeth.

“Fucking psycho!” the man stumbled back and the ape man was back on his feet, yelling, arms stretched out and headed for Tig's neck.

Tig met him head on, bringing a firm right hook into his gut and bringing his knee up to collide with his face as the man doubled over in pain. He reached back and grabbed one of the pool balls, twisting around until it connected with the ape-man's temple. The sound was sickening and he dropped like a brick.

Tig raised up and could feel the first drop of blood slide down his cheek. He reached for his beer and pulled up an empty bottle. Dammit. What a waste. He flung it lazily over his shoulder and grit his teeth when it smashed against the wall.

“You owe me a beer,” he said, giving the man on the ground a kick. He didn't move. The fucker was out cold. He looked at the other man, still holding his bleeding ear and looking at Tig like he was about to start foaming at the mouth. “You gonna pay for it?”

The man just stood there, mouth open like a fish. Tig stooped and dug around in ape-man's pocket until he found his wallet and snatched a twenty-dollar bill from the main compartment. It'd have to do.

He heard the distinct sound of a shotgun being cocked and he looked up just as the bartender and apparent owner of the place was pointing the barrel at his chest.

“Get out, Mister,” he said, firmly. “I'll call the cops.”

“They started it,” Tig said, stuffing the money in his back pocket.

“Well, I'll finish it,” the owner answered, jerking the end of the gun towards the door. “Get out.”

“Gladly,” Tig said, grabbing his leather jacket off the end of the pool table. “This place is a fuckin' dump, anyway, man.”

The man with the ear, or well, lack thereof now, gave him a wide birth as he pushed through the double doors and onto the dark street. He pulled his packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket, only to flip the top open and find it empty.

“God dammit,” he cursed, tossing the box across the lot. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. It looked like he'd have to make a stop on the way home.

He threw his leg over his motorcycle and turned on the headlight. A deep glow lit up a small section of the dark parking lot as he kicked it to life and left the pathetic excuse for a pub in the dust.

Tell me if you wanna be tagged. I didn’t tag my Perm Tag List because I know you guys are all here for my Pedro Pascal character Fics so---I was not sure if anyone would wanna be tagged in Sons stuff.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfic #tig trager #alex trager #alexander trager #tig trager x reader #tig trager x you #tig x reader #tig x you #tig trager fanfic #kim coates #kim coates x reader #kim coates x you #kim coates fanfic #heavy in your arms #HIYA

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sebspocketsquare · 5 years ago

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Quarantine 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (online)

A/N: Heya guys! Here’s part 5, sorry it’s been a little bit. I had some trouble with this one because I really just wanted to get to part 6 LOL. Anyway, i hope you enjoy it! -T

Warnings: Flirting, language, quarantine, feels, fluff

The next morning, a string of texts wakes you.

It’s J, letting you know his friend will be by in a couple of hours to install your security system and bring by groceries.

He tells you to double check who’s on the other side of the door before opening it, and informs you that his friend's name is Sam.

Seems simple enough.

You get dressed, deciding to wear something a little nicer than the pajamas you’d been wearing lately. Makeup finds its way to your face and you even manage to brush your hair.

You could at least make yourself look human today, especially since you didn’t know how good of friends J and Sam were.. what if he went right back and told J you looked like you hadn’t bathed in weeks?

That wouldn’t be good for your blossoming relationship…. friendship? Whatever it was.

You’re getting yourself a glass of water when someone knocks at your door.

The couch had been moved back to its original position, and you look through the spyhole on your door to find a man standing there in a doctors mask with a backpack and bags of groceries in hand.

“Can I help you?” You ask through the door.

He makes eye contact with you through the spyhole. “I’m Sam, J’s friend. I’m here to install the security system for you?”

That was convincing enough for you. Opening the door, you offer a small smile. “Hi.. I’m uh.. I’m Clair.”

You can’t tell if he’s smiling through the mask, but he makes his way inside and sets the bags on the floor.

“You mind if I take this off now? I promise I’m not sick.” He motions to the mask and you laugh softly. “No, go ahead. It’s fine. Just uh.. Stay six feet away.”

He removes his mask with a sigh of relief before flashing a pearly smile at you, “I’m Sam. Nice to officially meet you.” He looks familiar for a split second, but you convince yourself you’re merely imagining it.

Sam gets right to work with the install, and you take that time to put away the food and wine he’s brought. It’s too much for just you, it’ll last you months, but with everything that’s going on, you don’t know if you’ll even be ready to leave the house again anytime soon.

You make sure to shoot J a text telling him thank you.

Sam puts a device on each window and in each doorway of your apartment. A keypad is put right by your front door, and a panic button right beside your bed. He helps you set up a 4 digit pin that you’ll need to enter any time you come or go, and shows you how to set the alarm when you go to sleep at night. It’s so simple, but so secure.

J was right. It made you feel better. Safer.

Once everything is completely set up, he pulls a piece of paper from his back pocket and hands it to you. It’s an order form. For your computer and television. You’d made the decision to not let him replace your tablet. He was already doing too much.

“Oh..” is all you can manage to say as you look it over.

Sam chuckles in return, “He um.. he really cares about you, you know..”

Meeting his eyes, you risk asking him a personal question, “What’s your opinion in all of this..? How he feels about me?”

He looks taken back for a moment, but smiles fondly before he answers. “I’ve known him for awhile now, and.. He’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him when he’s talking to you.”

You can’t help but smile at that knowledge.

“And Clair?”

You meet his gaze one more time.

“I know it’s probably weird for you, that he wants to take care of all of this for you, but.. let him. He’s a good man. He doesn’t have any ulterior motives. He just.. when he cares about someone, he’s all in.”

Your heart warms at his words and you nod slowly.

He smiles again before picking up his backpack and heading for the door.

“Hey Sam?”

He turns to you just before he’s out the door.

��Tell J I said hi.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Will do… and don’t tell him what I said about him being a good man and all that… he’ll never let me live it down.”

HIM

I know as soon as the system is installed because a crude outline of her apartment appears on my computer screen.

I set alerts to let me know anytime someone approaches the vicinity, when she leaves and when she sets the alarm for the evening. If she presses the panic button, it alerts the authorities first and then me.

I have to take every precaution to keep her safe.

I’m closing the window on my computer when Sam returns home. I hear him kick his shoes off and set his bag down before heading straight for the shower. He pokes his head in my room on his way there. “System is installed, also.. damn she is way out of your league.”

His observation makes my heart rate increase. “Wait, what? What does that mean?”

He laughs and shakes his head, leaving it at that as he continues on his way.

I find myself suddenly jealous that he’s gotten to see her with his own eyes and I haven’t.

“You could at least describe her for me!” I call after him, to which he just cackles.

My best friend is an asshole.

HER

You’re sitting on the couch watching random videos on your phone when a new message comes through from J.

[Sarge:] Everything go smooth? :)

You’re sure he already knows the answer, and you’re positive that Sam already told him all about you, but you decide to humor him anyway.

[clairv0yant:] Yes. :) Thank you again for everything.. I really appreciate you. I checked the tracking on the form that he gave me and everything should be here by the end of next week.

[Sarge:] Doll, I promise you don’t have to thank me. I’m happy to be able to help you out. :)

[Sarge:] It will be strange not gaming with you every night for a while, but.. We’ll just have to find another way to spend time together.

His words only cause the smile on your face to grow. He’s so sweet. So considerate. So genuine and unfathomably selfless. You weren’t sure what you’d done to earn the affections of such an amazing person.

[Sarge:] By that I mean.. expect phone calls every night ;)

[clairv0yant:] That sounds perfect to me. :P

xxx

You spent more time on the phone with J over the next week and a half than you’d ever spent in your life. Constantly exchanging texts and making phone calls, but never once asking the other for a photo. Not that you weren’t curious, because you surely were, but you were afraid of what he expected you to be like. Did he already have an image of you in his head? An ideal Clair?

You’d tried to picture him several times, but failed at each attempt. He still remained a mystery to you.

When your new tech finally arrives, you nearly jump out of your skin with joy. You make sure to lysol the holy hell out of the shipping boxes before touching them, and once the product inside is removed and placed in the safety of your apartment, the useless cardboard goes into the recycle bin outside.

It takes you an hour and 45 minutes to get everything set up, but of course as soon as you’ve finished, J is insistent about playing.

It’d been so long, there was no way you were denying him.

You missed it just as much as he did.

“You know what I miss most?” You speak into your mic, keeping your eyes trained on the battle scene happening on the screen before you.

J hums a soft, “hmmm?” in response, trying to keep his focus too.

“Mexican food.”

He can’t help but let out a bark of laughter, obviously shocked at your most missed thing while locked away.

“Mexican food? Really?”

It’s your turn to hum a soft, “Mmmhm”.

He’s quiet for a few moments except for the sound of his keyboard clacking as he fights, determined to win this round.

When the word Victory appears on your screen, he speaks again.

“You know I um..” He pauses, and you can feel his anxiety seeping through the internet connection. “Nevermind, heh..”

“What is it?” The first emotion you feel is concern. What could he not feel comfortable telling you?

“Promise you won’t just laugh at me?”

That’s a promise you know you’ll be able to keep. “Of course, J. What’s up?”

There's a bit of silence on his end, and then you swear you hear his adam's apple bob in his throat in a gulp for courage. “When all of this is over, I.. I’d really like to take you out on a date..”

You’re stunned into silence, thankful that a new game has yet to start.

He must take the quiet as a negative response, because he immediately backtracks.

“I-I mean, that’s stupid right? You wouldn’t go on a date with some guy you met online.. Hell, I could be some cree--”

“I would love to.” You cut him off before he can ramble on too much.

“You-really?” You can hear the smile in his voice and it brings an even bigger smile to yours.

“But only if it’s mexican food.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, the rumbling of the sound making your heart flutter.

“I wish..” He stops himself again, letting out a little sigh, “I wish I knew when that would be though.. When all of this will be over.. I just.. I really want to spend time with you, Clair.”

A new match begins in the game, but you’re so distracted by his confession that you almost miss your window to pick your character.

“We’re spending time together right now, aren’t we?” You joke, but there’s a falter to your voice, a doubt. You know what he really means.

“You know what I mean, I.. I want to be there, with you.”

It’s your turn to exhale a sigh.

“I know what you mean..” A funny image comes to your head, and you find it slipping from your tongue before you can stop yourself. “What would a quarantine date consist of anyway? You sitting on the opposite side of my front door drinking beer, while I sit inside drinking wine?”

He’s silent.

Not even a laugh.

It’s a whole two minutes before he speaks again.

“You know.. That could work.”

TAGS: (I wasnt sure who to tag, so if you dont want to be, I’m sorry!! Just trying to get this out there. ALSO if you wanna be tagged INBOX ME! I tend to miss people in the notes :( ). @mindingmyownbusiness @plumfondler @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @loricameback @tinaferraldo @geminimoonbeamx @preserumsteverogers @moderapoppins @lowkeysebby @buckyshattergirl @jayattemptstoruletheworld @the-observant-fangirl @moondancewrites @moonbeambucky @trinityjadec @stevieang @bionic-buckyb @eyecandybarnes @propertyofpoeandbucky @promarvelfangirl @ballyhoobarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @cate-lynne @witchymarvelspacecase @imaginingbucky @theimpossibleg1rl @babygurl8840 @wonderlandmind4 @buckysthing @formulafun @curvybihufflepuff @fanficsformarvelkillme @shadyskit @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @reading–mermaid @fuckmestan @siliverin @verygraphicink @sallyp-53 @thatsbucknasty @steadyphantomcat @booktease21 @kiki5283 @lostinspace33 @drayshadow @theperditioncrasher @mmyepic @feelmyroarrrr@alien-beans @heartsaved @sideeffectsofyou @dreamingofonceuponatime @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @bluerorjhan @tarynsnotokay @jamdropx35 @turquoisekokiri @pinknerdpanda @starkrobb @marvelgirl7 @unscriptedtimetraveler @fangeekkk @wonderlandmind4 @pinkisokay @mrsdaamneron @rynabarnesrogers @wish-i-had-something-better @stanning-seb-stan @oilersgirl35 @vaisabu @paranoid-borderline-insane @bonkywobble @vikki-rogue @witchymegg @a--1--1--3 @margetastic33 @stuffandstuff-stuff

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #online au #quarantine #sebspocetsquare #sometimes i write #series #bucky barnes

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troybarnesbucky · 3 years ago

Text

tagged by @sabitchhh :)

Why did you choose your url?

troy barnes (community) and bucky barnes (mcu) are two of my fave fictional characters who happen to share the same last name!

Any side-blogs? If you have them, name them and why you have them

i do but I will not elaborate because I dont use it anymore and its a cringy fandom. the account was weirdly popular and I hate it lol.

How long have you been on tumblr?

on and off since like 2012-13, but ive had this account since 2018 or 19, I dont remember.

Do you have a queue tag?

nope, too lazy to start one and dont care enough to.

Why did you start your blog in the first place?

I was lonely, didnt have any friends and needed a vacuum to scream into about my dumb fandom things.

Why did you choose your icon?

donald glover is hot... next question.

Why did you choose your header?

was too lazy to make a cool one and I found this edit that went well with my theme so.

What’s your post with the most notes?

nothing fun lol its my post about sarah halimi and how antisemitism is ignored by everyone.

How many people do you follow?

303 but I'm constantly unfollowing and it seriously went down after the increase in antisemitism on here. also most of them are inactive anyways.

Have you ever made a shitpost?

I don't know what counts as a shitpost but probably?? I would say I used to on my side blog but I mostly reblog or vent on here.

How often do you use tumblr?

sometimes I'll go a day or two without checking, but I deleted insta and tik tok on my phone so I've been on tumblr a lot more.

Did you have a fight/argument with a blog once? Who won?

actually yeah I have but it was awhile ago, it was about antisemitism and I reckon I lost because I essentially left the fandom because of it.

How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this post’?

fucking annoying, a symptom of this performative activist mentality that has been so pervasive online in the last few years and I hate it.

Do you like tag games?

yeah I love talking about myself im a jewish virgo, but I always feel so embarrassed when I do them and tag other people bc I feel like im bothering them :/ if I ever tag you and you dont wanna be tagged anymore pls lmk !

Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

a few ! but also I had a lot more mutuals that I unfollowed bc antisemitism that were pretty popular accounts.

Do you have a crush on a mutual?

I haven't had a crush since 2013 lmao but lowkey yes, on a few <3

Last song you listened to?

45 by bleachers ! psyched for his new albummmm.

What’s your phone background/lockscreen?

a collage my friend made me that matches my phone case, it’s cute but a bit cringy and I'm never getting rid of it.

tagging @pointeful @smores100 @labelma @kosher-catboy @officialhannahmontana @malka-nediva @moodyyehudi @afterafternoons @gfbucky and of course anyone who sees this and likes talking about themself as much as I do lmao

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smearsyd · 4 years ago

Text

Day Again | Sehun | Part Two

Kim Haru knows loss. She knows what it means to miss someone, to find out what isolation looks like in the flesh. These things, she expects them and she patiently waits for the day she may wake up and greet them as griefs of the past.

What she does not expect, is the same grief reflected back in another’s face. She doesn’t expect to find solace through this person either, nor does she expect to cherish her days with him, rather than wait them away.

characters:

+ oh sehun (exo), you as kim haru (because names are important)

what to expect:

+ christmas + friends to lovers + fluff and romance

warnings:

+ mentions of death, grief + sensitive topics

length:

+ five parts + 30k plus total

read it here: (updating… stay tuned)

+ masterlist + part one + part two + part three

author’s note:

+ this chapter was very sweet to write, i hope you enjoy ☀️

if you want to be tagged, please reply to the masterlist!

Thanks for dinner last Sunday… I can’t remember if I said that when I was with you so I thought I would message 1:21 AM

Wow I just realized how late it is, I hope these don’t wake you! 1:22 AM

Give me a call when you feel like it… I am here if you need me 1:24 AM

Sleep well, Haru-ya 1:30 AM

I clung the phone to my chest, a yawn creeping through the small smile that had worked its way onto my lips. I had forgotten that I had saved his name as Sehunnie Oppa~ in my contacts with two hearts following, but it was a pleasant surprise to wake up to, nonetheless. It feels like just yesterday that I had been gifted this phone for my sixteenth birthday; Sehun’s number was the first one to go in— right after my brother, of course.

We used to stay up late messaging one another in a three-way group chat that consisted mostly of me sending outrageous photos of myself that I knew would only be used as collateral damage in the future. I sent them anyway, though, just so I could get equally outrageous photos of the boys back. Never once did they fail in making the next worse than the last, nor at making me laugh until I felt like my head would explode or I might pee myself.

The morning light was peeking in through the soft, white curtains and basking the room in its warm yellow tones. The window across my bed has always faced perfectly to the rising sun, not too bright to be a nuisance, but not too soft that I couldn’t enjoy it. I realized with a pang against my chest that this would most likely be the last time I am able to see it; the last time I can stare at these walls and the small nuances that have grown into the roots of this house.

My height inscribed on the closet door of the pantry, as if he had written it only days ago; the small dent in the living room wall from the one time a Wii Remote was chucked across the room; Haru and Oppa written in permanent marker in the bathroom (I had gotten in quite the trouble for that one); everything that made this house so familiar, so filled with memories, I would be leaving behind.

A big part of me was in-denial that I would allow myself to walk away from what this house offers me— all the memories that are not just mine to remember. The even bigger part of me, however, knows that it’s time to make new memories and I can’t do that if I am being suffocated by that in which lost its heartbeat long ago. I know Sehun was right too, Oppa would want me to be happy and he would want me to do what’s best for me, even if it is hard or uncomfortable in the beginning. In the reverse of feeling, he still gives me strength as if he has been here, guiding me along the whole way.

Sehun too, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

A week? Is that how long it’s been since I last saw him? Even from the short time he was with me, the warming comfort of his arms seemed to have engrained themselves in my memory. That smile too, was it always so bright? I can’t remember anymore, but those feelings he leaves me with, they haven’t changed.

I miss him.

I clicked my phone on, the time stamp reading 8:49 AM— it’s almost nine. Is that too early to call? My finger hovered over his contact in anticipation and I felt as if I were suddenly blooming petals in a sea of butterflies.

What if he is sleeping still? And if I wake him?

I shook the nervousness from my mind with a calming breath. He told me to call, so why wouldn’t I? I hit the green dial button and waited as the tone rang quietly in the background, placing the phone delicately to my ear. Two long, infinitely long rings passed and somewhere in the middle of them I had curled under the plush comforter, rising it to cover my mouth as if I was a child embarrassed about calling their cru—

“Hello?”

I snapped up, the comforter floating down around me as I quickly whispered back, “Did I wake you?”

Sehun’s breathing halted for only a moment, a light chuckle gracing my ears as it passed. I found that my shoulders relaxed from the soothing sound. “No good morning Oppa? Not even a simple hello?”

I grumbled on the outside, but a wave of heat attacked the rounds of my cheeks, nonetheless. I played it off the best I could.

“Pshhh, who says that anymore? Just answer the question.”

He seemed content with my answer, an audible snort being heard through the phone. “Haru-ya, sleep alludes me even now…” He hummed like a sigh that spoke of giving up— I understood the notion all too well.

I can almost picture the small smile that would be sitting on the bend of his lips, his hand curled around the edge of the phone. I wonder what he has been doing. “Did you get my texts? It’s been awhile since we messaged last.”

I hummed into the phone, fiddling with a loose string of my blanket that was somehow more interesting than it was a second ago. “I read them when I woke up… You know you don’t have to thank me for that kind of stuff.” Another moment of silence passed, but I could feel his steady presence as he listened, as if he knew I called for more than to say that.

“Sehunnie,” I murmured against a gulp of hesitance, “I signed the lease on the new house. I am moving out this weekend.”

It was with this that his breath hitched, stopping completely for a second, or maybe even two, before finally going back to normal. And when he spoke, his voice became somewhat gravely, like perhaps he had been sleeping and was just hiding it up to this point. The thought dipped me in a honey-like feeling of sweetness.

“And you’re alright?”

The question was simple, the answer though? I’m still trying to figure it out myself. “Maybe. I know that it will be hard to leave, but I feel ready, I think.” I settled on what felt safe, what I knew he could understand. “I just have to worry about packing all of this stuff up now. And in two days at that.” My voice filled with slight humor and a short chuckle fell from my lips, but when he didn’t laugh too, I knew he had seen through me.

“You’re packing by yourself?” He questioned, dropping the heavy questions I knew he itched to ask; I was grateful, for I didn’t know how much of that I could handle before deciding it wasn’t worth it. “That seems like a lot to take on with just you.”

“Girls can get things done too, you know.” I grumbled into the phone as a desperate distraction, my eyes burning from the softness of his voice and the pressure of trying to always hold everything in. “It won’t be too hard, just might take me a few more days that a manly tree hauling guy like you.”

Sehun snorted, again, and for a second, it sounded so relieved that whatever tension that had been slowly encroaching into us was banished just as easily as it was formed. “Yah, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Do I?” I teased, pretending not to let on— in which he let out a small groan that I could practically feel in my own chest. I had to hold in indulging giggle from spilling out through the phone. “Go on, repent your sins. Did getting a degree make you feel superior to women?”

Sehun’s groan was even louder this time. “Right, because getting a degree in basically trees makes me feel so confident.”

“Oh wow, so what you’re saying is that Environmental Science isn’t manly enough for you now?”

“Forget it, I’m hanging up.”

“Have a good day Oppa~” I teased, catching the tail end of playfully frustrated chuckles. Then the line went quiet and I was alone once more. The room, though, felt somehow lighter than it did before, as if the house had absorbed some of our laughter and distributed it throughout the space.

I fell back onto the bed and took in the curves of the ceiling, the peaceful silence of the empty rooms, and all of the memories that lived in it. Then I breathed it out.

It’s time.

…

“Finished!” I exclaimed in satisfaction, wrapping the box up tightly and moving it to the side. Five hours later and I have finished… just the kitchen? An exasperated groan escaped my mouth as I took in the whole house that was completely and utterly, untouched.

I slumped against the cooled material of the kitchen counter and rested my eyes shut. A part of me knew that I was only dragging my feet because the kitchen was the only space that wasn’t a danger. In here, it was filled with me. The pots and pans were ones I had bought. The pantry was food that suited my taste. The dishes were only ones I had eaten out of.

The rest of the house, though, was ridden with him— maybe even more so than me. His blanket lay untouched on the back of the couch as a lingering scent. His favorite book was resting, eyes closed, on the coffee table half unread where he had decided to start it once more. The walls formed a skin of pictures he had taken, and he had hung up.

He was everywhere I turned, buried in this house as a sunken display of time’s cruel expression. I was nothing more than encroaching in a mausoleum that was once breathing and ours, rather than mine or his. Uprooting myself, felt like uprooting him.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I waited.

It was then that the doorbell rang.

I jumped what felt like three feet in the air out of pure surprise, a gush of goosebumps raising the delicate hairs on my arms and neck to a standstill.

“Okay,” I muttered. “I hear you.”

I took a calming breath and collected my shaking fingers as I made my way over to the front door, squeezing through a few boxes on the way. The curtains were cool against my touch, and as I pulled them back, four familiar faces greeted me as if time itself had restarted.

My head, or maybe that was my heart, felt as if it were spinning in excitement, my hands not fast enough to open the latches and throw the thin barrier open between us. And then the door was open, and I was jumping into the gentle embrace of the closest boy towards me.

“Yixing!” A shocked exclamation spewed from my mouth as he caught me mid Surprise! Strong arms twirled me around like a cashed-in year old hug and something in me felt like I was ten again and being doted on by my brother’s older, handsome friends.

“Your reaction was priceless!” He chuckled with that endearing dimpled smile, setting me down and immediately coming to cup my face between his big palms. “Haru-ya, it’s been too long. When did you get so cute?”

A flurry of emotions ran through me and I felt tears threatening to spill over. “Every time you looked away,” I joked, my voice thick as a single tear fell down my face.

Yixing sent me a small, sympathetic smile, but before he could respond, a playful gasp was heard from behind him and he was suddenly pushed aside. Minseok’s widened, panicking eyes filled my vision as he wiped my tear away, pulling me into his chest with protective arms.

“Oppa,” the tears didn’t seem to stop, even when I willed them too. Minseok still smelled like brewed coffee beans and his usually wispy black hair was freshly cut.

“I missed you too, pumpkin.” He kept me close, his hands soothing against my back. “You can be mad at Oppa for not visiting, but you can’t cry. Your brother would kill us if he knew we made you cry.”

I pulled back, nodding slightly as he brushed my tears away. “I am mad at you,” I huffed like he was the best remedy for a poor sight, his sly lips curling on the ends as he took in my best attempt to be cute.

I shook my head and pushed him aside, feeling like my composure was somehow sliding back in place. That was until I took in the steady gaze of Kyungsoo. His head was turned slightly to the side and the most calming smile was titling his lips up on the corners. My eyes started to water again, and his already round ones became even more rounded.

“No,” he half-threatened. “I’ll walk away right now and not come back for another year if you start again.”

I straightened right away, saluting him as if he were my captain. He let out an endearing grunt before his guard fell away, taking a step forward to wrap me in a hug that was as equally as tight and protective as the two before him.

I eyed Sehun standing shortly behind us, his stormy eyes gazing at the four of us before landing quietly on me. I mouthed a messy thank you, a swell of appreciation filling my heart as he merely shrugged his shoulders before looking down at his feet.

“I can’t believe you are all here,” I gaped, gazing between the four boys, men really, who I had always looked up to. It’s been a year since I have seen all of their faces, and even then, it wasn’t a day that I wanted to remember clearly. The feelings, rather, was what stayed.

“Well,” Minseok quirked his eyebrow at Sehun, “someone practically begged us to come over. And how could I refuse a visit to see you?” A small smirk took over his face as we filed through the front door. I pretended to gag, turning my nose up at him. The boys broke out into a hearty laughter and before Minseok could defend himself, Yixing was smacking his back with a resonating pop.

“The best part is that we bought pizza and plenty of boxes!” Yixing gushed. “Oh, and beer too!”

Sehun lugged all of the food and drinks he bought onto the kitchen counter and the boys instantly dug in as if they were in their own home, which in a way, is true considering how much time they spent here with Sehun and Oppa growing up. A pang went through my heart as I watched them laughing casually and kidding around with one another like they always had.

A space was missing, an important puzzle piece to the picture of five that had been reduced down to a portrait of four, but they managed. Somehow, it seemed that they had all consumed a little of him inside of themselves.

I could see his look of quiet, but kidding, judgement for all of the stupid remarks they would make blooming into Kyungsoo’s eyes. His bright smile and goofy, overly loud laugh morphing into Yixing’s own. His snarky remarks and mischievous antics bubbling out of Minseok. And then in Sehun, it seemed that they had always been one in the same. But when Sehun looks at me, sometimes it feels like he was gifted all the love my brother had, to keep for himself in his heart. Together, I could feel him alive again, living alongside them and laughing like he had never left us.

At some point, Yixing had turned music on and the house filled with their singing and the upbeat pop that seemed to fit their personalities so well. Without a word to me, they started to put boxes together and pack up the things I was not strong enough to.

I watched his name get written on a few boxes by Kyungsoo, everyone stopping briefly to glance before Yixing made some silly joke and then the blanket was folded neatly in there, along with the book and his other items I had failed to put up. With every box they closed tightly shut and placed by the door, the house seemed to sigh in relief.

The air was clearer, and the music was brighter.

The day had somehow escaped us, and all the beer magically disappeared, but we worked hard enough to actually pack everything up into neat boxes in the living room. All except for one room.

Kyungsoo sighed. His face, like everyone else, was flowered red and puffy from the beer. We had been messing around for some time, dancing to the music and reheating cold pizza as if we had finished the job. I think we all knew what we were doing, but it seemed like Kyungsoo was the only one with enough courage to say it.

“We do have to go in there at some point.”

Yixing looked down at his feet, clearing his throat. Minseok too, who was casually hugging me from behind and getting dirty looks from Sehun, pulled me a little closer to him. I knew that it couldn’t be avoided; I didn’t want to avoid it. But there was something unspeakable, a wall of silence, per say, that stood like a translucent barrier of water around his door. That space, for so many reasons, was something I cut myself off to a long time ago to soften the blow of his absence. I could handle the nuances of the house, but his room, that was a different kind of weight that sunk into your skin and pulled the air from your lungs.

Sehun’s stormy gaze fell upon me with a shade of tender grey— his way of asking a question. I nodded silently and then he was opening the door and the barrier was washing away. All of us stood a little taller and the music disappeared from the background as we slowly made our way inside.

It was just as I remembered it, untouched and so, so filled with him. The bed wasn’t made, and the closet was open with a fresh pair of clothes sitting on the edge of his desk as if he was planning on changing into them the next morning.

I felt stuck in place, my body numb as I stared at the bed in trepidation. It was deadly silent then, and even when Yixing sniffed, reaching up to brush his face, I paid no attention. There seemed to be a valley between where I stood and the spot where he last rested, the space growing with every second we stood. My ears were ringing, and my chest was burning right down the center, and I no longer felt that I was breathing or that I even needed to.

Why?

Why did you have to go?

Where did you go?

Where things too hard?

The void I had been staring into became filled then and warm hands enveloped my frozen ones in their own. Sehun. Sehun radiated a yellow orange that penetrated the overbearing black, his bright dawn blotting out what had become blurry and guided me back into focus.

I peeled my eyes from the bed as if they had been stuck to a string of tacky glue, to finally land them on those brooding eyes of his. They drew me in and breathed me out.

“We can do this,” he whispered like a promise, his hand rubbing soothing circles on the back of my hand. “Remember, one day at a time, like you said.

“Just tell me what to do, and well do it together.”

I swallowed it all down and found myself at the top, nodding, nodding to all four of them which had been waiting for my approval. I stepped aside and watched as one by one they entered on their own and swallowed it down too.

Kyungsoo let out a long sigh that had everyone looking at him. He seemed to be doing that quite often today. I tilted my head in question.

“You know…” he started around a small, slowly building heart-shaped smile and nostalgic, wandering eyes. “He would think we are being so stupid right now.”

Yixing picked up Oppa’s guitar and brushed the thin layer of dust that had settled on its strings. “You’re right,” he added. “He would probably say something to the extent of you dumbasses are really going to hesitantly walk in here when every other time you would barge in and fuck everything up!?” He impersonated, his hands going around in circles just like he used to do.

His remark cut the tension in half and all of us let out small chuckles of our own. “You guys really did used to fuck everything up,” I remarked, leaning against the door frame with a shake to my head.

Minseok’s lips thinned as he tried to stop himself from laughing. “Remember when we broke his bed on accident?”

“First of all, there was no ‘we’ in that and secondly, on accident?” Kyungsoo asked in exasperation. “If I recall correctly, which I am positive I am, you were the one who said, ‘I wonder how mad he would get if we broke his bed,’ and then proceeded to catapult yourself onto his already creaky bed until it literally broke in the middle.”

“Look—” Minseok started with that don’t disrespect your Hyung voice, “you can’t talk to me like that.”

Kyungsoo snorted and somehow, we all ended up evolved in laughter. The amusement rang through us and coated the walls in orange and yellow. Maybe we were only laughing to fill the gaping hole, or maybe we truly were happy. Happy to be in here, happy to breath in here after so long.

The boys began packing up the individual things they wanted to hold on to. I let Yixing, who would always come over and make up random songs with Oppa, take his guitar and collection of vintage albums home.

I let Minseok, who Oppa always called to ask what book to read next, sift through his over spilling collection for the ones he always secretly wanted.

I let Kyungsoo, who never failed to buy Oppa a journal so he could figure out his crazy ass mind, take them all back home to read through, or simply have— even the ones that were mere doodles and torn up grocery lists.

I didn’t ask Sehun what he wanted, though. I knew that would be too hard of a question, for I knew he wanted everything, anything, to hold onto. Instead, I squeezed his hand and we entered the room together. We gravitated apart, but that was only natural.

For the next few hours, we cleared his room into five piles. What was left, I had to let go of.

At some point, Kyungsoo had changed into one of Oppa’s old t-shirts and Yixing had passed out on his bed, his mouth gaping open in a picturesque look. Everyone was yawning and on the brink of exhaustion, but we had gotten it done and that was a feat in of itself.

We helped move their boxes into Minseok’s car before Kyungsoo hauled a half asleep and definitely unhelping Yixing into the car, only waking slightly to promise that he would come over when I set my new house up.

“Thanks for everything, I suppose.”

I breathed out into the cool sky, smiling lightly at Minseok and Kyungsoo as they leaned against the car. “You have to visit me every once in a while, okay? No more of this prolonged exile.”

Soo nodded in agreement, pulling me in for a tight hug that was mixed in the comfort of his own presence, but also my brothers. I squeezed him tightly before muttering a lingering goodbye and watching him get in the car.

“Minseokie Oppa,” I whined, not wanting him to leave. He was the only person who could make me act so childish, but sometimes I was thankful for that and I think he was too.

“Aw pumpkin, I know.” He embraced me in his arms, patting my messy hair down. “Oppa loves you and if you ever need anything, you know I am only a phone call away. Although,” he quirked his eyes behind me as he pulled back to whisper in my ear, “I think you’re in good hands.”

He gave me a quick peck on the forehead before stepping into the car.

I somehow ended up leaning against Sehun’s chest as we waved goodbye to the trio, my frame fitting perfectly in his. It wasn’t until they were completely out of sight that we slowly made our way back inside.

We fell down onto the couch in a huff, looking around at the emptied, unrecognizable space before coming to rest our eyes upon one another. Our heads were barely apart and although I felt only moments from falling into what I hoped would be a pleasant dream, those stormy eyes almost willed me to stay just as we are, gazing, truly looking.

“Thank you,” I murmured, coming a little closer to his warmth. “Thank you for everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me for these things,” he repeated my line from this morning, an upward bend gracing his lips. His hand came up and pushed a lock of hair from my cheek, twisting it lightly around his finger before tucking it away. “I’m here for you, just like I know you are for me. So, when you need help, or you just want someone to talk to, come to me.”

“Only if you come to me too.” I set my stare straight and he took a long breath through his nose, his eyes falling for a second before coming back to mine in a lingering gaze. He always seemed to convey so much in those eyes. He’s not so strong on the inside, I know that even if he wishes I didn’t, but when he looks at me with that light grey of vulnerability, I swear I melt out and into him.

His eyes speak, even when he won’t.

My body moved before I did, naturally pulling him into me as if we had always meant for things to be this way, for it to feel this way with one another. His head sunk into my shoulder and my arms went around his torso, binding us together like satin and silk. I imagine that he was tired of pretending to be okay when his heartbeat slowed to reach the pace of mine, as if conscious that we shared even the deepest of locked away secrets.

I shut my eyes and rested against him until nothing else existed. Not the house, or our friends, not even our bodies, maybe not even our minds. We simply existed, heartbeat and heartbeat.

That was enough.

It felt like a lifetime had passed when I was lifted lightly into his arms and carried away. He set me in the plush bed and brushed a delicate kiss against my forehead. Half asleep, I grabbed his slim fingers in mine.

“Stay.”

And then he was holding me once more, shaping me like molten shatters of the sky to fit into the dawn of his side.

“Always.”

thank you for reading

please like and reblog if you enjoyed :)

please remember:

+ do not plagiarize

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#smearsyd writes #fanfiction #exo sehun #sehun scenario #sehun fanfic #oh sehun #exo scenarios #exo series #sehun x oc #exo romance #exo fluff #exo angst

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years ago

Text

On or Off

Characters: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: PLEASE DO AN ANGEL X READER WITH THE PROMPT ‘rings on or off baby’ CAUSE ITS A VISUAL I NEED💛💛 Requested by: @cocotheclown

Warnings: Smut and language

A/N: Look at me finishing a request and its under 1000 words! Anyways don’t be afraid to send in any requests. Prompt in bold.

Gif credit: @angels-reyes

You and your girls pulled up to the driveway, just to see Angel’s motorcycle parked on the other side.

“You sure you want us to stay for more drinks? We know its been awhile since you’ve seen your man. He’ll probably wanna break you off as soon as you walk through the door.” Kory wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Waving her off, you jumped out the car. “Girl, its fine. I didn’t expect him back so early. Plus, the waiting makes the sex that more explosive.”

The house was dim except for one light. It was shining on Angel as he sat in his chair in the corner with one leg crossed over the other and smoking a cigarette.

“Uh, girl we’ll catch you later.” The ladies retreated out the door soon as they saw Angel’s pissed off face. “Glad to see you’re back in town. See you later, Angel!” Addie yelled, closing the door, silently praying for her friend’s walls.

Angel smiled and waved goodbye to your friends, but once that door closed his scowl returned.

“What crawled up your ass?” You straddled his lap. “Bad run?” A kiss to his cheek. “Mad you came home to an empty house?” Another kiss to his other cheek.

Still he had not spoken one word since you stepped foot in the house. You didn’t have time for one of Angel’s mood swings, so you moved to get up, but Angel held you there.

“Where you’ve been, querida?” He exhaled the smoke to the side to ensure you didn’t get the full force of it.

“To a party.” The nervousness slightly crept up in your voice. There was no way he could know; he was on the road the whole time.

Angel leaned up to pull out his phone. “This party,” he asked, playing a video for you. It was you in the wet t-shirt contest. Louie was spraying the water hose on you and even from the video you could see the pervy looks you were getting.

“Okay, I know it looks bad, but I can explain.” You stumbled over your words as soon as the video ended.

Angel quirked an eyebrow at you. “Really? Because it seems simple to me. First, you went to a Dogwood party without me and then you made the smart decision to get in a wet t-shirt contest.”

“But I never been in one.” You blurted out, senselessly hoping he would see reason.

He scoffed, already pulling your jeans down. When you had to bend down to undo your shoes, Angel took a small bite of your ass cheek.

“Panties too,” he ordered taking another drag of his cigarette. You resisted smacking your lips and complied. You laid across his lap, prepared for your punishment.

“Rings on or off, baby?” His voice a little bit raspier than usual because of the cigarette, sent shivers down your spine.

“On.” Spankings may have hurt more with the rings, but they weren’t as long.

Angel was pleased with your choice. The sooner he gets the punishment over, the sooner he gets to be inside of you.

“Look at you taking this like a good girl.” His fingers slid into your core so far that you could feel the coolness of his rings. “Fucking wet ass pussy. This shit turns you on, mi dulce?”

“Yes, Angel. Just please fuck me already!”

“Nah, I’m not done yet.” Angel sat you upright, positioning you between one of his thighs. “Ride me til you soak my fucking leg,”

Slowly, you rock your hips back and forth until Angel smacked your ass and told you to go faster.

“Please, baby. I’m sorry, please put that fat cock inside me,” you desperately cried out.

Angel squeezed your neck, his cold rings contrasting his warm hands against your skin. “This is not a democracy, sweetheart. This is a dictatorship. Now make yourself cum on my thigh or I’ll edge you all fucking night long.”

You continued to do as your told out of fear of no release, while Angel pulls down your tank top along with your bra with his teeth. He latched his mouth around your nipple harshly sucking and biting it.

“Shit! I’m cu- I’m cumming!” Wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, you rode out your high.

Angel held you as he stood up. “Now you can get all this dick and there ain’t not tapping out, mami.” He carried you to the bedroom and made good on that promise.

Tags: @briannab1234 @starrynite7114 @marvelmaree @thickemadame @chaneajoyyy @sparklemichele @mrsamaroevans @titty-teetee

#black!reader #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #mayans ms #mayans #mayans mc fanfic #mayans fandom #mayans mc fandom #mayans mc fanfiction #angel reyes fanfic #frizzlewrites #frizzlesfic #frizzlefic

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johnshelbysgirl · 4 years ago

Text

Honey Don’t Feed Me... PT. 3

Part Two

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters, setting, etc. are the property of their respective owners. All original work is my own.

a/n: Been awhile I know, the world’s collectively going through it and I feel it. But I haven't given up on this story so, Enjoy!

warnings: none.

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!) : @xxdearlybeloved @woahitslucyylu

‘Sorry love, I got held up.’

The ticking of the clock pounded in her eardrums. The ink scribbled messily on the page made her eyes weary. She was trying to focus on organizing Polly’s diary but for every few words she wrote, her mind kept replaying running into John at the Tailors.

Ella’s eyes widened like saucers, after days of no sightings he appears here of all places. John stood tall in a nicely fitted suit, with a blue vest matching his bright eyes; one slightly hidden behind his cap that was tilted precariously on his head.

‘You alright?’ he asked, smirk still intact.

Ella felt her skin prickle at the sight of it.

He’s caught her off guard once she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a second time.

‘Yes,’ she coughed, ‘I’m just waiting.’

Clara hadn’t been gone long and was surely going to have a fit when she saw them together.

He tilted his head to the side, ‘On what?’

‘My friend,’ quickly looking over his shoulder for Clara.

‘This friend getting a suit too?’

It was an innocent enough question; Afterall they were at a Tailors, but it sounded odd on his lips. Almost strained even. She focused back on him, though his face showed nothing his shoulders were hunched over and his hand was clenched tight in his pocket creating a crease in the lines.

“No, she prefers wearing dresses.’

A dazzling smile crossed John's face and seeing him relax emboldened her. ‘I’m also waiting for you.’

He raised his eyebrows, ‘Is that right?’

‘Uh-huh,’ she nodded, ‘to explain yourself.’

‘What have I got to explain myself for gorgeous?’

Ella tried her best to keep from smiling but felt her lips rising at the corners in protest. She quickly looked down to compose herself and pulled an imaginary string from her skirt.

‘Well for all your big talk, this is the first I’ve seen you.’

He grinned from ear to ear, ‘Did you miss me?’

She smacked her lips, ‘You see, that’s not an explanation I here, is it?’

‘You don’t let up do you?’

‘I’m just picking up on the slack.’

‘Well,’ he shrugged, ‘I think I’m off to a good start.’

‘Oh, really?’ she laughed, ‘And why is that?’

John stepped close and whispered, ‘I saw you smile.’

Chills ran up her spine as the words tickled in her ear.

‘I count that as a win in my books, don’t you?’

She’d never admit it.

Ella knew she shouldn’t want to be around him, but she’d be lying if she said that a small part of her wasn’t hoping for him to find her and that she secretly enjoyed the fact that she had his attention; for however long it lasts. So why should she not enjoy it?

A tight voice called out, ‘Ella?’

Startled at the sound of her name being called, Ella unintentionally stepped away from John. She turned and faced a blonde girl probably no older than her she was.

‘You’re Ella, right?’

‘Yeah, that’s me.’

‘Clara’s helping Mr. Martin finish up some measurements, so she asked me to tell you that she’ll see you tomorrow.’

Relief flooded over Ella’s body and she thanked the girl for the message. Once she left, ‘I should go, Polly’s probably wondering where I am.’

‘I can walk you back,’ he offered, ‘just got to pay first.’

Ella was about to say yes when a realization struck her. Her cousin was outside waiting for her, she’d almost completely forgotten about him.

‘No, it’s okay,’ shaking her head, ‘besides I don’t want to be a bother.’

He leaned forward and caught her gaze, ‘You can bother me as much as you like.’

A grin slowly spread across her face and this time Ella didn’t try hiding it.

‘It’s alright, really,’ she said sadly, ‘Jeremiah’s waiting for me anyway.’

Ella glanced outside to see Jeremiah’s back towards the window, a cloud of smoke from his cigarette circled him. When she turned back to John, his jaw was clenched, and his face was flushed.

‘Are you okay?’

His lips were pressed tight into a thin line, ‘I’m fine.’

Ella glanced at him sideways.

‘Have a nice walk,’ he muttered.

Before she could say goodbye, John briskly walked away from her; Leaving her stunned.

Ella closed the diary shut and dropped the pen to massage her temples. She had left the Tailors even more rattled by John Shelby than she was before and it was still wearing at her. The creaking sound of the back-office door opening and Polly’s voice made her straighten up.

“Now add a few drops before you get into the tub and you should be fine.”

“Thank you, Ms. Shelby.”

“Of course.”

The last customer of the night left the shop and shortly after Ella went behind them to lock the door. She was on her way to finishing closing when Polly’s voice stopped her.

“Leave it,” she said, looking over papers. “I’ll get it tomorrow.”

“Are you sure Ms. Shelby?”

She stopped and looked her dead in her eye, “What have I said?”

Ella grimaced, “To call you Polly.”

“That’s right,” she resumed, “now go and enjoy the rest of your night.”

Her plans lacked their appeal now, she’d rather stay at home than run into John and his ever-changing mood. Clara would be disappointed, but she’d understand if she told her she wanted to spend time with her mum. She has been a bit lonely since her father passed.

Ella glanced outside and sighed, “I’ll probably just end up at home, maybe read a book.”

“Something wrong dear?”

Polly looked at her with keen eyes. Eyes that could see into people’s souls.

“Nothing,” looking away, “it’s nothing.”

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Alright then.” She reached under the counter and found the spare deck of tarot cards that Ella used to practice.

“Oh, please don’t,” Ella groaned.

“If you won’t tell me I’ll just have to see for myself.”

She did want to talk to someone about John, Clara wouldn’t understand, and Jeremiah was Jeremiah. When she first asked him about him hanging out with Tommy and the rest of the blinders, he teased her about becoming one of their groupies. And of course, her mum was completely out of the question, she may be desperate, but she wasn’t going to talk about John with his aunt for Christ's sake.

Seeing no way out of it, Ella dragged her feet over to Polly. She’s never had a reading before, but she’s seen Polly do plenty of them that she didn’t need any instruction from her. Instinctively she chose the deck that resonated with her. Then shuffled and cut them before handing them back to her.

Polly raised her eyebrows before taking them, “Someone’s been paying attention.”

She smiled down at her feet and Polly laid out the cards in front of her and studied them before showing her the first one. The card showed a group of people with weapons in a struggle, in small script at the bottom Ella could see the name, the five of wands.

“You’re doubting yourself, concerned with other people’s opinions. Let people think what they want and do what will make you happiest.”

Ella leaned against the counter and rested her check in her palm, dubious look on her face.

“Eh,” waving her hand dismissively, “it’s not my fault the cards can tell too.’

She snickered softly behind her hand while Polly moved hers to the next one. A picture of a man and a woman holding out cups, floating above them were two entwined serpents and a lion’s head with wings at the top.

“Ah the two of cups,” waggling her eyebrows, “you’re interested in someone.”

Her snickering stopped as dread entered her body. There was no way she could’ve known about her and John.

There wasn’t anything to know.

“Don’t fret darling,” squeezing her arm, “he’s interested too, give him an honest chance and it could grow into something more.”

After how he left things yesterday, she couldn’t be more wrong. When they moved on to the final card without any further comments, she was content that Polly knew nothing and let herself relax; focusing on an image of a bearded man on a throne holding an orb in one hand and the other holding a cross with an oval loop on top.

“The emperor,” Polly spat, “You must step into your power, otherwise you’ll be stepped on.”

“Easy,” Ella scoffed.

“This world was not made for women and its draining,” nodding her head, “And I suspect that its harder on black and mixed-raced women like yourself.” Placing the card down. “But when the time comes,” she continued, “don’t let that stop you because you deserve to become the brilliant woman you’re meant to be.”

Ella found out early on that people never say what they mean, but Polly never minced words and she admired that about her.

“Thanks, Pol,” she smiled shyly.

“Anytime dear,” eyes shining, “now go on and have fun!” slapping her palm on the counter.

After exchanging goodbyes with Polly, she headed home. Pushing down her fear at the uncertainties and mentally preparing for the night ahead. Focusing on the opportunity she had instead. John Shelby owed her an explanation and she was going to get it.

Part Four

#Peaky Blinders #PEAKY FOOKIN BLINDERS #john shelby #john shelby fanfiction #John Shelby fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fandom #polly shelby #black fandom #black fanfiction #black!oc #John Shelby x black!oc #jeremiah jesus #tommy shelby #mine

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merigreenleaf · 4 years ago

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Unexpected Inspiration Location: The Place of Shadow

Etri reached out to grab them as they ran past, catching Adair’s shoulder and Blythe’s wrist. Between the span of one breath and another, they were in the place outside of time that Etri considered a secondary, if lonely, home.

His friends were justifiably disoriented. Adair stumbled as he stepped closer to Blythe, whose eyes narrowed as she sought out the potential threat that had brought them here. In a voice barely above a whisper, but which reached Etri's ears in a place so empty, Adair asked, “Where are we?"

Etri had been equally fearful on his first trip here. It had been an accident, a touch to one of the elemental traps in his home temple that he noticed all too late. It had banished him as though he himself were a shadow and he might still be caught here if not for an unusually curious and friendly elemental leading him back. Over the years he had learned that he could cross back and forth at will, with no danger so long as he took care to leave precisely at the time he had arrived. That had taken some calculations and experimentation. His friends would be safe if they remained with him, and since the shadows hadn't noticed them yet, Etri took a moment to pull a timer from his bag. With luck, they'd be able to return before they had left and miss the guards entirely.

As the grains of sand began to fall, Etri walked over to join them. “I apologize for not first gaining your permission. I took the opportunity before anyone could see you vanish from the street.”

Adair spun around with a grin on his face. “Etch! You brought us here! I'm so glad you're here. Where is here?”

Etri glanced down at the small hourglass to hide the smile that came so easily around Adair. He used this opportunity to better calculate how much time remained before they could again cross. “To my knowledge, there is no name for it. I have only thought of it as the 'place of shadow.' Please, we must get through the city soon. We cannot stay here long.”

“Why not?” Blythe asked as they hurried through the eerily silent streets. "Not that I want to stay. What's with this place, anyway? I know there were more buildings here before. Addy dragged me into a bakery I know was on that corner."

Adair waved his arms vaguely to the left. "And over there was the greenhouse we were in for like an hour."

If the two were back to teasing each other, it meant that they felt safe. Their trust in him made Etri's head swim just as surely as his friends must have felt moments ago. “This place is but a reflection of the real world and time does not flow as we perceive it. If we are not careful, we could be caught here for a century or return into the past. As for your second question, it is because temporary objects do not exist here.”

“What, like ice sculptures?”

Adair's comment made Etri chuckle, but Blythe was less amused. “Sheesh. You've been hanging around Sol too long. Think, art-boy. He probably means like people. Plants. The traffic we're not getting run over by."

Adair recovered before Etri could further explain. "I had noticed the lack of squash, which makes this better than the hour I spent hanging out with the vegetables."

Blythe groaned. "Etch, do us a favor and get us out of here. I don't think I can deal with a century of his bad jokes."

-An excerpt from Colorweaver (book 1) switched to Etri’s POV

[Facts about the Place of Shadow below!]

-As far as Etri knows, he's the only living human who has visited, besides the friends he brings later. He's never heard anyone else talk about it or found any records of anyone else visiting. The creatures from this place that are capable of communicating with humans have never revealed that this is where they come from. For instance, the priest/esses in Montglace who summon shadow elementals know that they're coming from somewhere, but have no idea what this somewhere is. -The place of shadow isn't as creepy as you might expect, despite it being the home of ghosts and shadows. It's simply an empty and grey monochrome. Since it's only borderline real and there is no weather, the sky will always be dull, vacant grey, with no stars or planets to be seen. The air is breathable, but it's stuffy and you probably wouldn't be comfortable breathing it for long. -This is because it isn't so much a world of its own as a reflection of the main world. The only things you'll find in this place are things that have existed in the main world for an extended period of time. This means geographical features, such as hills, mountains, and caves, but nothing like trees or plant life because nothing living exists there. In Etri's experience, rivers and lakes have been empty or missing. There may be oceans, but if so, he hasn't explored far enough to know. -Towns and cities are ghost towns, but not in a dilapidated, creepy way. Only the oldest buildings and architecture echo over; these are all empty inside but otherwise solid and in new condition. The buildings are never furnished because anything that can be moved around counts as temporary. -On the flip side of this, if a building has been recently torn down in the real world, its mirror will still be standing until it eventually begins to fade away. You're also unlikely to find ruins here-- old buildings will begin to vanish rather than fall apart. -Nothing lives here because nothing native to that place is technically alive. This doesn't mean the place is unpopulated, though! One type of elemental that exists here are shades, which are echos of strong memories and emotions from the main world, vague blurs without much sentience. -Once in awhile Etri will run into a ghost, which are usually the spirits of those who possessed magic and were killed in a way that didn't fully dissipate this power. Usually, these don’t remember who they once were, and they vary in intelligence and communication skills based on how long they’ve been ghosts, how strong their magic was to start, and how they were killed/ended up as ghosts. Some can move around and cross to the human world if they choose to, but many are echoes not much stronger than the shades. -The creatures I often refer to as shadows are the most common type of elemental here. These are the ones capable of communication (via telepathy/feelings) and their intelligence level is somewhere around that of a smart dog. These can go wherever they wish but are easily controlled or summoned by certain humans. Shadows are mostly intangible when in the human world and are generally mistaken for a normal shadow if they're noticed at all. On their home world, and to any human with the magic to see them properly, they look like a plume of smoke. -Through trial and error, Etri has worked out how to calculate time passing in the main world while he's here in the place of shadow. Time doesn't flow linearly; instead it ebbs back and forth, almost like waves. Sometimes the waves are strong and will make "time" rush, meaning that you could step back outside into the far past or the far future. Sometimes it's weaker and almost no time has passed at all in the main world. Hourglasses are the only timekeeper he's found that work because gravity functions here even if time-- and watches-- do not. Between the hourglasses and carefully observing the waves, he can predict when he'll step back out again. The shadows and ghosts have less restriction than he does because Etri is human and has a chronological mindset at navigating this. The elementals can just pop out anywhen, but to be fair, they don't really understand what "now" is. Time has no meaning for them.

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

@homesteadchronicles stumped me good this week for a theme of "magic" since I used the recent "craftsmanship" theme to talk about the art magic in my series (you can find that here) and I've talked a bunch recently about the shadow and light magics that my Montglacian characters have. (Etri, Sol, Rosalie, and Camille.) Then I saw he had mentioned elemental planes and bingo! There are multiple worlds and planets in my series besides the main world, but the only one that comes up in my current trilogy is this one.

Tagging my series list! Let me know if you want on or off the list, it’s all good. And as always, please add me to any writing tag lists you have, whether you’re on my list or not. I love reading about writeblr projects. :)

@homesteadchronicles @ageekyreader @lynnafred @the-gay-hufflepuff @oceanwriter @desperatlytryingtowriteabook @muffindragon227 @theguildedtypewriter @toboldlywrite @wchwriter @dreameronthewind @shadow-maker @pen-for-sword @loopyhoopywrites @emptymanuscript @madmoonink @perringwrites @megan-cutler @elliot-orion @thatwriternamedvolk @indecentpause @writer-on-time @ravenpuffwriter @siarven @musicismymoirail @lady-redshield-writes @bluemartlet @reeseweston @worldbuildingwren @hiddswritingrefs @cay--scribbles @focusdumbass @enasroterfaden @missrobinswritings @joshuaorrizonte @zofiehelen @kainablue @kalis-scribbles @inspirited-goddess @nightmares-and-fireflies

#writing #writeblr #world building #about my world #worldbuilding #fantasy series #moodboard #moodboard monday #unexpected inspiration series #unexpected inspiration aesthetic

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bittysvalentines · 5 years ago

Text

You Can’t Hear My Soul

From: @eatallofthepumpkinthings

To: @corgiberus

Rating: T

Tags: Soulmate AU, Angst, mentions of anxiety, mentions of loneliness, mentions of defamation of character, mentions of paparazzi being rude, OC, ASL/RSL/Sign language, NHL Chowder, NHL Whiskey, Open Ended, mentions of Zimbits

Note: Sorry I can't write fluff! I hope you like it anyways.

Alexei wakes up groggy. The night before he'd tried to stay up until midnight, his heart racing with anticipation, yet he'd fallen asleep at some point. As soon as he is awake enough to realize why he's so groggy, his heart starts running again and his face splits with a grin. Immediately he feels for that space in his head where the connection to his soul mate should exist. When he finds it, nestled just behind his eyes, his heart sinks.

There is wind blowing past his ears and he knows he won't be able to hear his soulmate. He'd hoped that they'd fall into that small statistical chance and have the same birth date. He knew it was unrealistic, but he still had hoped to hear his soulmate. He often stayed up at night wondering if their voice would be airy and melodic or deep in soothing. Would they be Russian like him, or would they be foreign and the translation weird and distressing. Of course, it wouldn't matter if his soulmate was foreign, living half way across the world even – but it would be so much easier if they were Russian. If they were, then the likelihood of them being close by would be higher. They could be together sooner.

His daydreaming didn't matter now. The connection was open. He could tell his soulmate all about himself and maybe they'd come and find him before their 18th birthday. Even if they didn't come and find him – he had to stop himself . There were only 24 hours in the day and he'd already wasted several sleeping.

“HI! I'M ALEXEI!” He shouts into the connection. His cheeks heat. Why am I shouting? I'm going to sound desperate. he thinks.

He tries to reign himself in, but he knows its going to be difficult. “Uh sorry for shouting. I'm just really excited to talk to you. I've been dreaming about this day for a long time. I can't hear you now. But I'm sure in no time I will be able to hear you. We will talk non-stop on your birthday. I just know it.”

He stays up until midnight telling his soulmate everything about his life.

********************

Months pass and Alexei's hopes fade. He throws himself into his hockey career again. His father is right, if he's going to transition to the NHL he should do it now. He's been working with agents and talking to teams. By the end of the regular NHL season he's secured his spot with Falconers.

********************

Nervousness sits in the pit of his stomach everyday. Without any games to play, he refocuses his energy into learning English. It's profoundly frustrating. After a particularly disastrous lesson, he decides to take out his feelings the only way he knows how – on the ice. He's laces up and heads onto the iced over pond behind his family home.

Who knows when I'll get to do this again, he sulks.

He's skating laps, pushing himself as fast as he can. Suddenly he's tripping over himself. There are words flashing behind his eyes. As he falls forward, he becomes aware that the room where his connection lives is open and the wind rushing past his ears is just from the fall.

“Hello, can you hear me?”

“Are you awake? I hope I'm not waking you.”

“I'm really excited to talk with you Alexei.”

As he catches his breath and tries to push up off his knees, his mind is racing. After a few minutes he realizes he hasn't said anything back and he probably should do that.

“OH, HELLO... Hi. Uh... Happy birthday!” He replies awkwardly.

“Thank you! I'm so happy to finally talk to you.”

Alexei is excited but he is so very confused.

“Why can't I hear you?” he asks.

“WHAT?” his soulmate replies.

“It's like I'm seeing your words. I... I don't hear them. Is there something wrong?” Is he sick? He's heard that colds can sometimes mess up these conversations. Or maybe it's because of his concussion. He hopes that that isn't the case. Concussions have all sorts of long term affects, and in his line of work, its likely he'll have another if not more.

Suddenly he feels a door close. He frantically feels behind his eyes for that space where his soulmate just was but its gone. The void is overwhelming and he's back on his knees. What just happened?

********************

Alexei's 19th birthday couldn't come sooner. He's managed to stay up all night this time. Midnight finds him sitting up straight as a board, staring out the window of his senior teammate's guest bedroom. The city lights are stunning. He feels the connection open and he's speaking as fast as he can. Every question that's swirled in his head for the last few months spews out of him. He gets silence in reply and in just a few minutes the door is slammed closed, the connection lost. He cries himself to sleep.

********************

When he decides to put his mind to something, Alexei always manages to see it through. Going into the NHL, learning English, making friends with his teammates, becoming rookie of the month – he set his mind to those things and he did them. He makes his mind up to be as positive as he can about his soulmate. He may not know why they've hung up on him, why they've not talked to him, why they haven't tried to find him, but he knows he can't control what they do. He can only control himself.

With his mind set on positive, when his soulmate's birthday comes back around, he keeps it casual and light. He talks about his life. He talks about hockey. He talks about his teammates and friends. Every birthday flies by like this. His soulmate never speaks, but the connection stops closing right away.

********************

A few years go by. The Falconers win the cup. But his soulmate never talks to him.

********************

There is a movie playing on the plane. It was a tough game against the Capitals and every muscle in Tater's body is beat. He thinks that the movie is a romantic comedy, but he isn't really sure. The actors all seem to be mumbling or talking too fast. Lulling his head to the side, he asks Poots to translate again for the 5th time.

“Dude, Aren't you paying attention?”

“Yes, I'm just very tired.” He gives him his best puppy dog eyes.

Poots smiles. Tater sees a light go off in Poots head and suddenly Poots is climbing over him and stumbling towards the front of the bus.

“Hey who has the remote.” Someone produces the remote up front. Tater watches Poots struggle with it. Eventually Snowy gets up, rather reluctantly, and helps Poots with whatever he was doing.

When Poots returns, Tater turns back to the movie and is amazed. There are words steaming at the bottom of the screen, highlighted in black, and in Russian.

“Now I don't have to translate.” Poots says victoriously. Tater nodes dumbly. This is what my soulmate's voice looked like.

********************

Its been awhile since he's thought this much about his soulmate when it wasn't his or their birthdays. Stewing on this new information is easy. Making any sense of it, that isn't easy. He tries to Google for some answers but he must not be using the right search words because none of the search results make much sense to him. Once again he finds himself wondering if there is something wrong with him.

After a couple of weeks, he decides to talk about it. He trusts his friends, and the old guys have worldly experience. Maybe one of his teammates will know something that can help.

He's hanging out with the guys, having a few beers when he musters up the courage to bring it up. They're all silent for a few minutes. It unnerves Tater. Am I the only one this has ever happened to?

“Maybe they speak a different language?” Poots says.

“If they speak a different language he should just hear them in Russian. That doesn't explain why he sees the words and not hears them” Snowy refutes.

“Oh right”

“Ive never really heard of anything like this before” Marty says. A couple guys nod in agreement.

“Maybe they're sick all the time?”

Thirdy brings up, “I read a story once that a guy started hearing his soulmate's voice in a whole different language than either of them knew and it turned out he had a tumor.”

“I just had a scan when I had that minor concussion” Tater replies exasperatedly.

“Maybe they're deaf?” Jack offers.

“What?” Everyone turns to Jack.

“I read a book on historical figures with disabilities and it explained that many deaf people and their soulmate's see each others thoughts.” That makes sense.

He goes home and googles some more.

********************

On his next birthday he tries to casually slip in “Are you deaf?”

It doesn't come off casual. Thankfully his soulmate responds.

“Yes”. Then the connection drops.

********************

His family and friends start to worry about him as the years go by. Its not uncommon for people in their early 20s to be single or dating around. But when you're close to 30, people notice. His parents set him up with a Russian National figure skater. She's nice enough but they don't last long with their mismatched schedules and distance between them. He hooks up regularly with a goon on the Bruins for almost two years before he gets traded to the Lightning and meets his soulmate.

On home game nights, when his teammates head home to their soulmates, he returns to his empty apartment. The silence is overwhelming. When he feels like the loneliness will crush him, he turns on ASL and RSL tutorials and clumsily signs along.

********************

It's the off season. Usually he tries not to schedule anything on his soulmate's birthday. But admittedly he's starting to give up hope. When Jack invites him to his summer home for a cookout and a friendly game of hockey with friends, he accepts. Its made easier by B's promises of pie and jam. He's pretty excited until he gets there and is slammed with regret.

Milling about and taking pictures are several PR people from the Sharks, the Aces, the Baby Penguins, the Belleville Senators, and of course the Falconers.

“Sorry guys, I was just so excited.” He overhears Chowder saying. A few Samwell alumni and Falconers are huddled around Chowder and the keg.

“It's alright Chowder. This is good PR.” Whiskey assures him aloofly.

“Yeah and its not like they are staying the whole party – right?” Poots asks.

They all shrug.

Tater makes his rounds. He gives crushing hugs to his teammates, the wellies, and the players from other teams that he has grown to care about. He shuffles in and out of the house. He helps Bitty keep the tables full – and subsequently helps to empty them of their contents. He plays games on the living room's Nintendo Switch, pongs it up with the Pong Master, and gives piggyback rides to the various little ones. He's enjoying himself, but he can't shake the feeling that he's being watched.

He's pouring himself another beer when he glances up and catches the stare of a Shark's photographer from across the room. The guy is lean, with broad shoulders, and flaming red curls. He's also wearing a serious expression aimed right at Tater. His unnerving blue eyes bore into Tater and suddenly Tater feels very self conscious. He trains his eyes on his cup as he takes a drink. When he looks back up, the photographer's face is buried by his curls. The guy is looking down at his camera. Tater is suddenly filled with the fear that he'd just had his picture taken. For years tabloids have tried to make him out to be a heavy drinker. It wasn't true and he didn't need a photo of him chugging a beer to stoke those flames.

He makes his way across the room and stops a few feet from the photographer. “Hey” he says lamely. He was upset a moment ago but now up close, with the man's pale face turned towards him, he can make out the freckles on his nose. He always had a weak spot for freckles.

He was hoping the guy would at least say hello back. Instead it seemed like Tater had returned the favor and unnerved the guy. His eyes were wide and frantically searching around the room, looking everywhere but at Tater. Finally they seemed to settle on something behind Tater. Turning Tater sees Chowder and his soulmate chatting with another couple.

“Uh, hey Chowder” Chowder turned to Tater and Tater pointed his thumb at the photographer. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out movement behind him, but by the time he had turned back to the photographer the movement had stopped and Chowder had materialized between them.

Then Chowder started introducing them and signing.

“Hey Tater, this is Cody. He's one of our team photographers. Cody this is Alexei Mashkov.”

“Nice to meet you” Cody signed. He offered a handshake.

Tater shook his hand, then he signed back “Its nice to meet you too”

“Oh you know sign language?” Chowder asks exuberantly.

“Yeah, a little” Tater replied sheepishly.

Cody's expression relaxs somewhat, but he still looks apprehensive.

“How do you know sign language?” he asks.

Surprisingly without hesitation Tater responds “I learned it for my soulmate.”

He regrets it almost immediately. He had almost managed to forget that it was his soulmate's birthday. It felt like he just dropped himself in an ice bath. Cody looked about how Tater felt.

Chowder doesn't pick up on the tension.

“Is your soulmate deaf?” He asks.

“Yeah”

“I didn't know that! Are they here with you? I don't think you've ever introduced us! I know Caitlin would love to meet them too!”

“Well I haven't met them myself so.”

“Oh”

Tater wishes the floor would open up and swallow him.

“I'm sorry” Cody signed. His face looks pained, like he felt what Alexei was feeling.

Chowder offers an escape. “We should probably get padded up for the game. I think I overheard a couple guys talking about starting it soon.”

Tater was about to agree, when Cody cuts in. “Wait, can I get a picture of you both before you're all sweaty.”

Tater chuckles at that. “Sure”

Cody maneuvers them to stand beside some of the Zimmerman's tall houseplants and underneath one of the living room's skylights. Tater is a bit disappointed when Cody takes a few steps away to take their picture. Up close he could see the sun bouncing off of Cody's curls. He even got to see his eyes light up when he joked that Chowder and himself should pose like a falcon and a shark respectively. He's still smiling when he aims the camera. Tater is smiling too.

Cody raises his hand and counts down from 5. With the click of the camera shutter Tater sees words flash behind his eyes.

“Wow he really is a sweetheart isn't he.”

Tater's heart jumps and flutters wildly. He watches Cody's face transform from embarrassment to terror, flaming red cheeks turning to ghostly white. They both stand still, staring at each other.

Finally, Tater asks “It's you isn't it.”

“Yes”

#tateroc #bv2020 #bitty's valentines #omgcp fandom #omg check please!

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iamanartichoke · 5 years ago

Note

Why do you feel that way about fandom? (In regards to your latest reblog)

Ah, I’m not sure if I know how to explain it, but I’ll try. (This got long, so I’m really sorry.)

The thing is, I first got into the Loki fandom early in 2018, so I’m coming up on about two years of being active here. That first year was so fun and exciting; I was elated to be able to discuss my Loki theories and meta with like-minded people, and I was so happy (and surprised!) at the attention my fic was getting.

I was also still at a point where I believed IW was going to blow our minds, so there was that extra kind of thrill of suspense (and a bit of fear but, when you believe in the MCU and haven’t yet lost faith in its writers/directors, the fear is surface-level and adds to the thrill - there’s not really the accompanying dread and despair).

IW was a crushing blow to that, of course, but even though we were all devastated, we were all devastated as a fandom. We were still in it together; we had one another to vent to and cry with and share fic with. “Loki is alive bc reasons” became kind of an unwritten rule in most post-IW fics; we all agreed that Loki deserved better.

In 2019, two things happened: one, I was underemployed and dragging my feet on finding better employment due to my mental health, which ruined my life for a little while. I had to move back in with my parents, which (I love them and am grateful they were willing to support me, but) was a toxic environment. I was too depressed to indulge in my escapism the same way (fic and fandom) and my progress on my stories slowed way down. I’ve never quite been able to get back the momentum I had when writing Sanctuary, but that’s another issue.

The second thing that happened was, obviously, Endgame came out and whatever theories and hopes the fandom was collectively holding onto about Loki were crushed. Not only that, but the portrayal of Thor seemed to amplify the divide in the fandom between the pro/anti Ragnarok argument.

It seems, to me, that what was a series of battles or skirmishes only became an all-out war after Endgame. That’s only my perception, of course, but I do feel that the latter part of 2019 saw the divide grow larger and larger. Everyone had opinions on what the “correct” portrayal of Thor was, and how it related to Loki, and whether fanon Thor and Loki’s relationship was founded in canon or not. Everyone was defensive of their own point of view; bullying and name-calling and anon hate became more widespread.

Again, this is just my observation. Those who’ve been on the front lines since Ragnarok came out probably have a much different perspective; I’m only talking about what I observed bc it directly impacts how I feel about fandom these days.

So here we are in 2020; like I said, I’ve been here about two years. I haven’t rewatched any of the Thor movies in ages (although @delyth88 and I are talking about it), because they make me so sad and also so angry. Sad for what we had, angry for what could have been. So much wasted potential. Loki’s horrific end hangs over everything, as does Thor’s radical character change, and I don’t have the same excited outlook about the characters and the meta potential anymore.

Not having watched the movies in a long time, along with that feeling of “ugh” around them, impacts me creatively bc I’m not actively feeding my writing inspiration. For me, fanfic writing comes from being so full of feels about the source material that I just can’t get enough and I need more. I draw my inspiration from things like watching Loki’s facial expressions, catching subtle moments between Thor and Loki, analyzing the way they speak, thinking about the story choices happening, and so on, and so on.

My source of inspiration has dried up, in other words, which has made it hard for me to keep a good writing momentum going. I was feeling great when I rewrote Sea, and then my inspiration kind of plummeted again - this time, bc I felt that I did such a good job rewriting and the response was so positive, I didn’t know if I could finish the rest of the story as well. Like I was already setting up the second half to fail, bc it would be much more “rough draft” than the first - revised and polished, yes, but not gone over with a fine-toothed comb the way the first part was.

The truth is, I carry a lot of stress and anxiety around my writing. I am always incredibly anxious that no one actually likes my fic, that no one is reading my fic, that people think it’s stupid or pointless, that my quirky humorous touches are ooc, that my plotlines are convoluted and boring and my sex scenes awkward and non-existent.

I’m having trouble with the Valki relationship bc I haven’t watched Ragnarok in so long, I’ve forgotten how much chemistry was between them and how it made me feel. I’ve forgotten why I chose to pair them up in this ‘verse in the first place. And I worry about that, too - that the people who read my stories for the Valki are walking away unsatisfied.

So that’s where I am with fic writing - slow and steady, still trying to find my footing, still secretly assuming what I write is shit.

This is on top of feeling more and more isolated on tumblr, mostly because of the aforementioned tensions and overall negativity that’s erupted in the fandom. I have been unfollowed and blocked by people who were once mutuals; I have been blocked by people I’ve never spoken to before.

There’s so much stress surrounding the things I post now - I’m constantly thinking, have I worded this correctly to convey my meaning without shitting on someone else’s opinion? Is this post going to be the one that makes this or that mutual unfollow me? Am I tagging correctly so my pro Ragnarok mutuals don’t see my criticism, and vice versa? Can I still post pictures of Chris Hemsworth, who is possibly the only man in the world I am definitely attracted to, which is a shame bc I agree that he’s kind of a douche now? But he’s so beautiful, but I have to disclaim that it’s just his face I’m attracted to? If I reblog this post about Loki that I think is hilarious, but is also founded on the flat stabby villain characterization, will I alienate my anti friends? Does it imply I don’t understand or appreciate Loki and that, by reblogging the thing, I’m endorsing a shitty characterization?

And so on. It makes scrolling my dashboard uncomfortable and un-fun, bc I end up saving tons of posts to my drafts without reblogging them, and after awhile I am not enjoying myself, so I stop scrolling.

But this means I miss tons of mutuals’ posts, and I was trying to check individual blogs for awhile but I kept falling further behind, and there were more and more posts I’d missed, and I’d get overwhelmed and then feel like they probably hated me anyway at this point for being a shit mutual, so I might as well just keep lurking on the dash for ten minutes and call it a day.

On top of that, I haven’t read fic in awhile bc of this mindset, so I haven’t commented, and then when I don’t get comments it’s like, well, maybe the story’s not shitty but no one’s reading it bc what do I expect when I’m not reading theirs? You’re not special, Charlotte.

The worst part about all of this is that none of it should diminish (and hasn’t diminished!) my love of Loki as a character. I am excited about the series, but I am also very anxious about it - about the story not being good, yes, but also about the inevitably divide that will further split the fandom.

No matter how the story goes, someone’s going to be upset. You can’t please everyone, and trying only makes for worse storytelling. So the wank will continue.

But I love Loki. I love everything about him. I am interested in writing about him and reading about him and thinking about him. I am invested in him and always will be. It’s just that, right now, I’m kind of falling further and further out of fandom and I find I have less to say.

And so I either have to wait it out, or work on my own mindset, or keep on keeping on. I just don’t know how long that will take or if I’m even liked enough here to try to bother.

tl;dr: Fandom has made me cynical and jaded, and it has dampened not my love of Loki, but my love of interacting with the Loki fandom.

(I know you didn’t ask for this hot garbage pile of my feelings, anon, so I’m sorry.)

#charlotte replies #a nonny mouse #fandom wank

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therangersmistress · 5 years ago

Text

My first go at this thing called writing.

Ok, so, I’ve been reading fanfiction for probably too long considering my age (what can you do?) and I’ve finally decided to try writing my own. I apologise if it’s terrible, but I really enjoyed this. I could’ve written more, and it ends kind of abruptly I know, but I’m dead tired and kind of anxious to get this out there before I keep going with it. Let me know what you think, and if anyone wants to send me asks, please do! :-)

Characters: Bill Skarsgård/Female Reader

---

You hadn’t planned on coming. Your main concern when the invitation arrived had been more how much time had managed to pass without you realising than anything else. Ten years. Ten whole years since you graduated, since you left this town for good, left him. And now you’d somehow been roped into going home, all for a little high school reunion. Who even goes to those anymore? Well, you supposed, apparently fools like you.

When you were younger, you’d had this silly notion that one day, when you’d see everyone again, you’d be that woman.

The beautiful woman, with the amazing career and committed partner–the one you see in films. But that wasn’t your reality. Sure, you had a decent job. Your boss was a bit of a dick and the hours could prove tedious but it was something, and it put a cosy roof over your head. You had friends, family you loved, you’d grown into yourself. No longer were you the gangly, coltish looking girl in too-short trousers, a fact of which the men in your life were aware. You just couldn’t help the nagging feeling that something was missing, nor could you admit to the small part of you that whispered it was him.

As you trudged hesitantly up the path to your alma mater, the redbrick entrance looming over you like a warning, all you could do was curse your friend for forcing you into this.

It had taken some heavy bribery, and not a small amount of guilt tripping, but eventually you’d caved when faced with the sad, concerned-eyes of your closest friend. It was a look you’d been getting a lot lately.

Supposedly this trip would be good for you, bring closure. Yet you weren’t so sure. As you stopped at the foot of the entrance’ steps, you closed your eyes, letting out a deep puff of air. This was it. This was the moment you’d been waiting for. The gnawing pit of anxiety you’d felt in the months since you received your invite was almost worse than the sudden realisation that you couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t you breathe! It wasn’t like he would even come to this. No, surely not. Not with who he is now. And the rest in there, well, it’s not that you particularly disliked them, although sure there are a few arseholes you’d rather not see again, it’s just that you’d tried so hard to put this town behind you after everything that had happened, to move on, that being here felt like rubbing salt into your already deep wounds.

You also really didn’t want to see Paulina fucking Engberg’s smug face say “I told-you-so”.

You were jolted out of your impending hysteria by the sound of partygoers. Looking around, you realised the noise had come from inside. Going off of the full carpark, the night air otherwise still and quiet, you assumed you must be the last person to arrive.

“Fuck. I’m late. OK... Stop stalling. You can do this. I’m almost certain he won’t be in there but even if he is, you can fucking do this.”

You took one last moment of peace before the mayhem, straightening out your midi dress, before glaring at the garish blue and yellow banner ahead and marching inside.

Welcome back indeed.

The first thing you noticed was the music.

Why is it that every DJ at every prom, wedding, and apparently high school reunion, plays the same god-awful pop music?

Hovering by the doors to the gym, you glanced around as subtly as you could for any familiar faces, namely one in particular. With your third pan around the room you decided it was all clear and made a swift beeline for the drinks table. You weren’t above accepting help where given, and this kind of night called for it. With a hefty swig of champagne in you, and a careful eye on the crowd, you ambled over to the main table, spotting a stack of labels and pens placed out. Scribbling down your name, you couldn’t quite swallow the chuckle at the irony of having to remind people who you are, at an event that’s sole purpose is to reminisce in shared memories.

Sighing, you resigned yourself to at least attempting conversation with someone, deciding to stick it out for a couple of hours out of courtesy and then getting the hell out of here. You had a lovely bed awaiting you in a hotel downtown after all, and you figured you’d treat yourself to some room service and perhaps a drink or two more as a reward for showing.

After several intensely awkward introductions with old classmates and teachers, you had the uncomfortable realisation that almost everyone here had a plus one but you. You knew you should have brought someone, but after the third friend had denied availability you’d decided that perhaps it would be best to come alone anyway, just in case he did show. Better to keep that train wreck from as fewer eyes as possible.

As the person before you (Megan was it? No Maxine. Perhaps these name tags were good for something) finished their long boasting account of their marriage and how many children they had (“Oh do you want to see a picture? Here. Aren’t they so sweet? You know we always thought you and...”), you could stomach it no longer.

Whipping out your phone (thank god for dresses with pockets), you excused yourself, claiming you needed to make a call, then bolted towards the back door–but not before snatching two flutes of champagne from a startled waiter. Just the quiet of the closed hallway was enough to calm you somewhat as you breathed deeply in and out.

Feeling more relaxed, you decided to head home, your fluffy down comforter calling you, when from the corner of your eye you spotted an old display case shucked up against the wall. Curious, you found a collection of framed photos from across the years. Placing your drinks to the side, you leaned in for a closer look. Basketball, volleyball, football, it was all there. And at the very back, one you hadn’t seen in years. In the middle of a group of boys, he stood. Impossibly tall, impossibly beautiful, even then. With his floppy hair and his big earnest eyes, not to mention that smile, he was the picture of youth. And he was yours.

Not anymore, you thought.

So focused on your reminiscing, you didn’t notice until you caught those same eyes in the reflective glass, that you were no longer alone. Your breath caught in your chest, as you choked out the name you hadn’t spoken aloud in years.

“Bill?”

“I thought I’d find you somewhere around here.”

He leaned down towards you, his breath ghosting over your ear forcing you to shudder.

You stumbled around, heart racing, almost smacking right into his chest before he caught you, his large warm hand stretched over your shoulder. “Woah, easy there”, he chuckled.

God, you forgot what his presence did to you.

You weren’t a hugely tall woman by any means, but it was still a rare occurrence that a man could truly make you feel small. And did he get even more attractive?

As your eyes drifted from his slicked back hair to his sharp angular jaw, his slightly receding hairline that reminded you fondly of his father, you thought he might’ve. The years had certainly done him well, even the faint lines pinching the corner of his eyes suited him.

“Bill”, his name the only thing you seemed capable of saying.

Your mind felt like it had dropped through your throat and into your stomach. It was like being parched, like missing something for so long that when it’s right there in front of you again, you can’t believe it.

“Hello sweetheart. It’s been awhile.”

Some awful sound halfway between a scoff and a snort found its way out of your mouth before you could stop it. Blushing, you tried to recover from your mortification.

“Just a bit, yeah.”

“How’ve you been?” he asked, as he stared at you as intensely as he did ten years ago.

Bill had this way of making you feel like you were the only thing that mattered when he looked at you. It was those Swedish values of his, or maybe just those huge bug eyes you used to tease him for.

“Umm”, you stumbled nervously. You’d prepared yourself mentally for this moment, knowing it was a possibility, yet everything you’d thought you would say had left you.

“I’ve been good thanks, works been good, everything’s umm good. And you?”

Oh god. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Everything’s good here too”, he said with no little amount of amusement at your loss for words. It had never been a problem when you were younger. If you remembered right, it was quite the opposite, Bill finding many a creative way to silence your constant talking.

Great, so not the time to think about that perfect, fucking full mouth of his.

Ripping your mind back to the present, you realised you’d been staring precisely where your thoughts were for some time now, Bill’s expression far too warm and kind for your comfort.

He had no right to look at you like that. Not after all this time.

Realising he still had his hand on you, thumb softly rubbing your upper arm, you staggered away, searching for those cursed drinks of yours.

Sculling down the rest of the champagne, back faced to him, you scrambled for something to say.

“So, I hear the acting is going well?”

Bill, still so modest, looked down, “it is, thank you. I’ve just finished filming actually, so I’m happy to be home for a bit.”

He paused. “Are you here for long?”

As you went to deny, you couldn’t help but be shocked by the hope you could see in his eyes, hesitant as it was.

You didn’t want to think too much on it, hope was a dangerous thing after all, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. That treacherous part of you that had held onto his memory all these years roared in agreement. It was getting harder and harder to quieten it these days and this just might break your resolve.

“I’m not sure yet, I hadn’t planned to stay past tonight, but I suppose it could be nice to see the town again.”

Smiling, he walked over to you, every step giving you a better look at his tall frame. Broad shoulders, tapered waist, legs for absolute days. That suit must cost a fucking fortune, you thought.

He snatched the second glass from the table, gulping it down, his Adam’s apple throbbing so enticingly, you wanted to suck your own mark onto it. Licking a drop of champagne off the corner of his lip, he smirked, “I’m so glad”.

Shit, you thought. You don’t know if this is the closure she meant.

---

Awesome people I’d kill to have read this:

@lihikainanea

@dreamtherapy

@ill-skillsgard

@skrsgardspams

@elisabethwise

@bae-roman

@inkblotgalaxies

#sigh #Adam's apples though #stay tuned for smutty goodness #bill skarsgard drabbles #right place wrong time #part one

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caps-lockdown · 5 years ago

Text

Operation: Man Flu

Alright guys here it is the first part of my new series! I thought of this awhile ago but my life has been absolutely bonkers lately and I didn’t have a chance to get started on it til now! I hope ya’ll enjoy this insane and (hopefully funny) romp I’ve come up with.

Tagging @kaytizzle and @cuffski for now, let me know in the comments if you would like to be tagged for future parts!

Summary: As a hacker nobody agent of S.H.I.E.L.D you get roped into what might possibly be your worst nightmare come to life. Will you survive the long weekend? Will you have a chance to get closer to a certain reserved Captain during this extremely stressful (and hilarious) situation?

Pairings: Steve x Shield Agent Female Reader!

Words: 3,397

Ratings/Warnings: I’m going to put hard R here for the whole thing because there’s going to be cussing, mentions of sickness, alcohol consumption, physical fights, mental breakdowns. Jealousy, love triangles (sort of), angst, drama, and lots of crude humor. Just strap in.

Also no Beta so my mistakes are my only thing to claim, I don’t own any characters either, with the exception of the reader, a doctor, and some random characters here and there.

It is in Y/N (Your Name) L/N (Last Name) format. Enjoy!

Part One

“Y/N I need more water!”

“Y/N my eyes hurt!”

“Y/N can you tell Bucky and Tony to shut the hell up? I’m trying to sleep off this headache!”

“Shut up Wilson!”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, nostrils flaring, you released a slow and irritated breath. The shouting was coming from the makeshift quarantine section in the Tower. Never in a million years would you be able to guess that this was going to be your job at some point. In fact, you would have laughed in anyone’s face if they told you that at some point in your life you would be stuck in Stark Tower taking care of a bunch of sick and over dramatic man children. This was supposed to be your weekend in. You were supposed to be comfy and cozy surrounded by happy things, not a bunch of sick cry babies. You were so getting a raise when all of this was over.

You looked to the ceiling praying to anyone upstairs for just a small moment of peace. The moment of peace could come in the form of a giant mallet to knock all of the whiny men in the next room unconscious. Perhaps a dart gun with Nyquil loaded ammunition? Anything to help you cope with being stuck with this lot of ill idiots for the next 48 hours. Why of all people did it have to be you? You were not someone that saw The Avengers in close quarters, you were sort of work friends, but you never thought your friendship would be put to the test quite like this. Who were they to ask this of you anyway? It’s not like you have any medical experience. Hell you get squeamish just thinking about blood. You rarely got sick. You cried watching Grey’s anatomy for cripes’ sake! You must have been cursed by some otherworldly power. Loki was messing with you. That had to be it. You were sure that had to be the reason behind this cruel and unusual punishment.

“Y/N BUCKY KEEPS STARING AT ME!”

“Well you keep sounding like you’re gonna puke Stark! And if you puke I puke! So don’t puke!”

“Damn I need a drink.” You uttered before squaring your shoulders and heading back into the fray. When did it all go to hell in a hand basket?

~~Friday Morning~~

0600

The crisp early autumn air made its way into your room from your half opened window. The birds chirping slowly woke you from your slumber as your eyes opened to take in the leaves changing colors on the trees outside. The smell of coffee starting to brew at your small desk invaded your senses and you smiled out to the rising sun in a good mood.

Your alarm clock went off which caused you to scream and nearly throw it out the window, groaning as you heard the rumble of the Quinjet touching down a few floors up. So much for a quiet, easy day. They were back early.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you hastily threw on your uniform and secured your hair up, reaching for your travel mug to hold your life juice as you sloshed it into the container and headed out the door.

Life hadn’t always been this fast paced for you. You were never a morning person, and even though it had been years that you have been with S.H.I.E.L.D, these caffeine fuelled mornings were something that never got easier with time. Being an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D just wasn’t a picnic for you most days, but you certainly had it better than some of the others in your line of work. You weren’t one of the people willing to put their life on the line out in the field. In fact it was the complete opposite. You were behind the scenes, knee deep in technology. Hacking files, constantly bypassing security, you name it. You never had to leave the comfort of your own country. It was hard work, but it was also your calling. It had been since you were a teenager in high school. It was a habit that got you caught several times breaking into the school security systems, changing when the bell would ring so you and your friends could get out a few minutes early. Especially during Geometry with Miss. Wilkins.

You had been given a scholarship to New York City College of Technology after you graduated high school and you packed your bags and moved from your small town in Ohio to the beautiful state of New York. After graduating in record time with high marks you were recruited by Agent Coulson to join S.H.I.E.L.D. You accepted without any hesitation (Along with constant reassurance to your always worried mother that you would not actually be in the field. Ever.)

After a few years, and more importantly the battle of New York, Nick Fury created a small unit specifically trained to work alongside The Avengers. It was truly amazing getting to move into the Tower, always being there in case of emergencies. Which there often were plenty of. You were under the command of Agent Keaton, your unit possessing a mere ten agents total. No one knew who you were, or what you did, except The Avengers and a small number of others. You were shadows, able to breach the toughest security, get what you needed, and get out without a trace. Or in most cases, get Earth’s Mightiest Heroes into places they previously didn’t have access to. Everyone called you “The Ghosts of Stark Tower”. The hours were sometimes long, missions often stressful, but it suited you just fine. One of the many upsides was knowing that you were making a difference in this messed up world.

The down side was these way too early mornings. At least it was Friday and you could look forward to the three day holiday weekend ahead of you. It was Labor Day weekend which meant that after today you wouldn’t have to return to work until the following Tuesday, unless an earth shattering catastrophe happened. Trudging your way down the hallways your mind drifted to the future that awaited you at 1800 hours. All you had planned was a giant fort of blankets and pillows to call sanctuary as you caught up on the six books that sat unloved in a box by your bed. They were feeling extremely neglected since you had gotten most of them as birthday gifts, which had been some time ago now.

Stepping into the elevator you let out a wistful sigh as it began to climb the few floors leading to the floor that held the landing pad for the Quinjet. Smiling to yourself as you day dreamed about being nestled in a blanket cocoon and not seeing a soul for 72 hours, you couldn’t stop in time and ran smack into Sam Wilson as you exited the elevator and took a sharp turn. His back of toned muscles acted as a wall as it threw you backwards and onto the floor with a loud and ungraceful oomfph.

“Shit. Sorry Y/N. My head isn’t on straight today.” He offered a hand to help you up which you gladly took, pulling yourself up and pretending to brush yourself off.

“It’s fine Sam. Ya miss Bucky that much?”

“Ha. Ha. Ya I missed him like a hole in the head.” You snickered as the two of you made your way down the hall together.

Sam Wilson and you went way back. Back to before you were working (usually) with the Avengers. Back when you were just starting out and he wasn’t cleared for all the “fun” missions, as he called it. Those were the days when you trained together, ate together. Hell you even shared a bed together. It was only once, and nothing romantic happened, but you two only got closer because of it. You didn’t know where you would be without him in your life. He always seemed to know what to say to make you feel better after a hard day, and he always had you laughing. It usually bummed you out when he went along for missions, so you were extra thankful he opted to stay behind this past week when they announced a new mission would take place. It had been nice spending time with each other outside of work hours, catching up, shooting the breeze.

He was one of the only people here that seemed to see you for everything that you were. With the exception of today of course.

“Any issues with the mission? Why are they back two days early?”

Sam raised an eyebrow as you reached the double doors that lead outside to the landing pad.

“Now how did you know they were supposed to be back in two days? That was classified information L/N.” You quickly shot your eyes to the ground, releasing a heavy sigh.

“I…I may have hacked into the mission details…”

The look Sam gave you made you bite your lower lip in embarrassment before he merely shook his head in response.

“Damn Y/N, you should have come with a warning label. If you missed Steve that much you could have just called him.” You swatted his arm as he pushed the door open for you, the fresh air hitting you in the face and causing your eyes to water.

Sam had known about your small crush on Steve Rogers, otherwise known to many as Captain America, since the first time you had met the larger than life super soldier. He pegged you as a giddy school girl from the gate and you found yourself threatening his life on a weekly basis to keep his mouth shut about the whole thing. Steve and you had a professional work related friendship, nothing more. It’s not like what you and Sam had, and you had come to accept that it never would be that. Or more, no matter how often you caught yourself thinking about it.

“Why would I miss Steve Rogers when Sam Wilson has been here to keep me company?” You batted your eyelashes at him, causing the man to chuckle as you neared the group of fellow agents that were gathered around the jet.

“Nice try slick, but I’m still telling Tony you broke into the mission files. Again.”

You pouted at him but he only clicked his tongue at you.

“I swear Tony just needs to give you a raise already and put you in charge of that tech stuff here. His old ass mind is clearly slipping.”

“You suck Wilson. I was only worried.”

“Worried ol’ Blue eyes was gonna take a dirt nap? Come on Y/N, he’s stronger than that.”

“Actually I was worried for Tony and his,” you made air quotations “Old ass mind”

You and Sam’s laughter was quickly silenced as the jet ramp lowered and you watched Steve Rogers exit, a deathly pale Tony leaning on him as they disembarked.

“Shit. He looks worse than normal. Pepper is gonna pitch a fit when she sees him.” Sam remarked, the team headed towards you.

Your eyes couldn’t help but dance across the Team’s faces. They all looked beat. Thor and Bruce seemed deep in conversation, their hushed voices angrily biting at each other. Clint kept quiet, focusing his vision forward and not looking at anyone. You noticed Nat and Wanda were missing, only for a moment before you realized they were on a separate mission elsewhere. They were slated to come back sometime next week.

Your vision drifted over to Tony, taking in his sickly appearance. The color was drained from his face, the area around his eyes dark and his body too weak to walk very far. Bucky walked to his left, his worried expression evident as they neared you and Sam through the crowd.

You quickly snapped your line of sight to Captain Rogers, your pulse picking up just a little at the sight of him. His uniform was still in really good shape considering how ragged he was looking. Apparently he had forgotten his razor or something because his facial hair had grown a considerable amount since they had been gone. His strong jaw was set tightly, his lips in a thin line while his large intimidating frame effortlessly helped the injured billionaire along.

“Why do I have a feeling my weekend plans just got cancelled?” You grumbled, clearing a path for the Captain as the rest of the team followed behind him, none of them sparing you a look. You were used to it by now.

“Wilson, debrief. Now.” Rogers’ voice boomed with authority and you couldn’t help but grimace in Wilson’s direction.

“Sorry Sam, tough luck.”

“L/N you too.”

Jumping at the acknowledgement you cast a worried glance to Sam who merely shrugged before picking up his pace to catch up to the group headed into the building. That could not be good at all. You followed after him, struggling to keep your mind calm with all the questions currently swimming in it. It didn’t take you long to reach the small conference room, paramedics cutting off your journey about halfway to take Tony into the medical bay to run tests.

You quickly took a seat next to Sam, everyone at the table looking to Steve for answers you were fairly certain he didn’t have. It didn’t mean you couldn’t admire his tall, gorgeous body though as he stood in front of all of you. Nope, you’d drink in the sight of him any day and any time you could. It wasn’t illegal to look after all, even if most of the time he saw right through you. Just like a ghost.

“Look L/N, I’m going to give you the extremely short version,” Steve started, blue eyes staring into yours and you could only bring yourself to nod. His voice was hard, short, he was clearly on edge with worry.

“Might as well shorten it even more Rogers, L/N here already hacked the mission files. She knows the mission.”

You could only give Sam a “What the hell?” look, trying not to let the disappointed sigh that came from Steve’s lips sink into your stomach like a boulder of guilt.

“As much as I want to be angry with you L/N, I need to know how much you know. It might help speed things up so we can get to work faster.”

All eyes seemed to shift to you as you began to fidget with the edge of the table, training your eyes to stay focused on the smooth wood surface as you recalled the details you briefly scanned last week.

“You were all sent to Tal-q’eiek to retrieve an energy source for another planet…Mon…mon something..who’s current environmental health is unstable. The planet’s self defense measures made most of the planet toxic to keep predators from other neighboring worlds away.” You started, looking up at the people around the table as they all nodded in agreement.

“ You were made special suits and would split up into teams to search the planet for the energy source. You were sent out of your element considering Danvers was unavailable to join you, as well as Quill and his team being currently MIA as well.” Taking a deep breath you couldn’t help but notice the smallest of smiles on Steve’s face as you finished divulging what you knew.

“Correct L/W, I’m always impressed by your sharp memory.” Steve complimented you and you had to grasp the chair to make sure you wouldn’t fall out of it. It was the first and so far only time Captain Rogers had made a positive comment in your direction. Usually he was far too busy to pay you or any of the other Ghosts of Stark Tower any mind. Not that you could blame him. If you were being honest, you didn’t even think he knew your first name for the first two years you worked together.

“So based on your knowledge, what conclusion can you come to on your own?” Thor pried, your gaze moving to catch his.

“ My assumption is that Tony was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time and managed to inhale some of the toxic air of the planet, and that’s why you had to come back early. Because he’s showing symptoms of a sickness and you didn’t know what to do.”

“Two for two L/W, well done.”You felt a swell of undeserving pride at Steve’s words, wondering if this was to be your Christmas gift or something. Two compliments in one day? Within minutes of each other? You most certainly weren’t complaining but it did make you a bit nervous, especially when those beautiful blue eyes weren’t leaving yours.

“So now what? We just wait for the doctors to come back and tell us Tony is going to be ok?” Sam’s voice broke you out of your trance, Steve clearing his throat and Thor nodding in agreement.

“Unfortunate, but until we know more there isn’t anything to be done.” The other blonde’s deep voice boomed and you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread.

“I don’t understand why I was needed here…” You trailed off, Bruce chuckling at your statement causing you to blush with embarrassment.

“You never know when we may need a Ghost on our side Y/N.” Bucky smiled at you, giving you a small wink.

“Yea besides,” Clint continued, “We actually like you. You’re not some stuck up, loud mouthed, cocky know it all like some of the others.”

“You shouldn’t talk about Tony like that, after all he’s the one sick right now.”

Your comment earned you a chorus of laughter.

“I’m gonna put that in Stark’s Christmas card this year.” Sam got out in between laughs, patting you on the back.

“That’s my Y/N, always one with the fast quips.”

His statement caused you to beam in response, allowing yourself to be grabbed in a small side hug. The expression on Steve’s face was a bit puzzling to you as you looked at him, but no sooner had it appeared, it was gone.

What seemed to be hours passed, but your eyes shot up at the sound of one of the doctors on standby walking into the conference room, her HASMAT suit creating a hideous scratching noise against the floor as she moved. You recognized her as Doctor Kelly Hooper, she had been working for Stark for years. She was a short and stout woman, with dark blonde hair that was always up in a tight bun on top of her head.

“What’s the diagnosis Doctor?” Clint tried, his voice humorless despite the poor attempt at a joke.

“Firstly, you should know that Mister Stark is going to be alright.”

The entire table collectively sighed in relief at the Doctor’s news, a huge weight seemingly being lifted off of everyone’s shoulders. You and Tony didn’t always see eye to eye on things, but you still respected the hell out him, and definitely didn’t want him dying anytime soon.

“However, there is some bad news.” The older woman continued, turning her attention to Steve.

“He’s going to be sick the next forty eight to seventy two hours, and will need constant care. He’s going to experience the worst equivalent of the flu we’ve seen in years. Fever, vomiting, dehydration, chills, extreme pain, and maybe even hallucinations. What’s also troublesome is we don’t have the proper staff to take care of him, as most of the day and night crew have left for holiday, and we can’t risk taking him to a hospital where it might spread.”

“Got it, can it get any worse than babysitting a sick Tony?” Bucky groaned out, his head hitting the table.

“Actually it can Mister Barnes. I’m afraid the illness he has contracted from the foreign planet is very peculiar in the fact that it only seems to attack beings with the combination of XY chromosomes.”

“Doc, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Bucky suddenly looked up at Doctor Hooper, who had now locked eyes with the winter solider before nodding her head.

“That’s right Mister Barnes, any male who has come within contact with Mister Stark within the last twenty four hours has a seventy five to eighty five percent chance of falling ill as well.”

#steve rogers x reader #the avengers #captain america #fanfic

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