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deadsetobsessions · 11 months ago

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Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

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themultifandomgal · 23 days ago

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From 2010- On Tour With Justin Pt2

Part 59

2016

11/10/2016- London

“How are we doing O2?” I shout into the mic causing everyone to scream “it’s good to be back here, it’s been a while. I told Justin how you guys are so loud so I want to play a little game. Justin is backstage getting ready and I want him to be able to hear all of you. So…” I walk to the left side of the stage “this side of the arena I want to hear you go wild on the count of 3. 1, 2, 3” I point the microphone to the left. I do this with the middle of the arena and right side “wow I’m not sure who won there, but I’m pretty sure Justin heard you. Ok so the next song I’m going to sing has become one of my favourites on my album. I know it’s also a fan favourite, this is True Story” I walk to the back of the middle of the stage as I start to sing acapella “this is a true story about all the lies you fantasized 'bout you and I. This is a true story about all the games I know you play. No, this is not what I need. Gimme love, love, gimme love. Not what I want. Gimme love, love, gimme love. Ain't gonna happen to me. Gimme love, love, gimme love, love. Love, gimme love, gimme love, love love, love, love” music begins. After True Story I sing Bye and the Break Up.

“Thank you so much O2! See you tomorrow!” I then blow a kiss before the stage lowers me down. I’m handed a bottle of water and towel. I’m taken to my dressing room where Charlotte is sat with Cookie who jumps off her lap and over to me. I pick her up and snuggle her

“Another fantastic show YN”

“Thanks Char” I place Cookie down. I pick my phone up and go on Twitter. More rumours about me are being spread about. Apparently Liam has said something else about our relationship that’s a complete lie “ughh” I groan throwing my phone down on to the sofa “I’m sick of this. I just wish I could just tell everyone to shut up”

“Maybe you can” I frown looking at Charlotte “write a song about telling people to shut up. You can tell Liam to shut up and the media to shut up, but not directly if you get what I’m saying. You don’t have to actually release it”

“Maybe” I shrug

16/10/2016

I’m sat in my hotel room with a pen in my hand and my note book on the desk. All I keep writing it the word shut up over and over again. There’s a knock at the door and Justin comes in with a smile and a brown paper bag

“Thought you might be hungry” he says holding it up. I give him a little smile

“Thanks”

“How are you holding up?” Justin closed the door behind him

“Eh” I shrug my shoulders

“What are you writing?” Justin asks peering over my shoulder

“Just things I’d like to tell the media and Liam” Justin laughs seeing just the words shut up over and over again

“I think you could turn this into a song”

“What? Maybe you should shut up. If only you would shut up. That's right you should shut up” I joke but Justin looks like he’s got an idea he quickly leaves my room. Not even 2 minutes later he’s opening the door with his guitar in his hand. He sits down on the bed and starts strumming and singing those words in a tune. I write the words down but frown looking at Justin as he sings “my presence sweet and my aura bright diamonds good for my appetite guess it just fuckin clicked one night” I think about it for a second before quickly scribbling down ideas. Before I know it I have a short song.

23/10/2016

“Do you think it’s too soon to release another album?”

“Huh?” Justin frowns as he looks up at me pausing his dinner “you want to release another album?”

“Not like tomorrow, I don’t actually have anything, but maybe sometime next year. I feel like I wasn’t quite finished with Break Up Season, like I’ve got more to say. I have some songs that I love that didn’t end up on the album”

“Well I think if you want to record another album then go for it”

“Will you help?” I ask Justin

“You know I would”

“Thanks”

29/11/2016

“Tonight was YNs last show on the purpose tour” the crowd all shout ‘aww’ “so O2 I want to make tonight special, please welcome back to the stage the very talented and beautiful YN YLN!” I walk back on stage over to Justin

“I’ve had so much fun on this tour, thank you Justin for this opportunity. This is as long as you love me” the music starts. Justin sings the first verse then I come in joining him in the pre chorus. We sing to each other, Justin taking my hand in his. After As Long As You Love Me we sing Sorry together.

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles

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sandwichfordinner · 2 years ago

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First glance (Ithaqua oneshot) (platonic mostly)

The reason I did teen reader it’s because people told me that I should write only platonic for him but idk I feel like I wanna write romantic too but I am about to get cancelled 😍🔥🔥 I wrote this like 2 weeks ago and I was too lazy to edit it so I hope you enjoy it 😭

Also at the end can be a little romantic or just platonically idk

art by pipll15 on twitter

Outside was snowing so badly during this night. It hasn’t stopped for the past 4 hours but you didn’t mind it because you were inside the manor.

The air here wasn’t that warm but it was still nice, at least it wasn’t freezing like outside.

You were walking down the hall after you had dinner with the others, well your teammates from the ‘game’ so called you played with them. It’s not pleasing and not even fun at all.. Wonder how haven’t you died yet.

But now you didn’t want to have those gloomy thoughts in your head, so you continued walking. Honestly.. you didn’t want to go to your room. It was boring, but what can you even do after dinner at this weird looking place. Especially when it’s snowing A LOT. The only answer that you hate: Nothing.

Doing the same thing over and over is so stupid-

You stopped walking as you felt like your eyes saw something down in the garden. You tried to look more clearly through the big window.

It was.. a figure?? Wait isn’t this the new hunter that they announced??

The figure looked up and saw you.. (Eye contact…) You quickly hid under the window , holding your breath for no reason at all. Sweat started to form on your face. They looked, terrifying. Those blue glowing eyes staring back at you. It sent shivers down your spine when you remembered their look.

‘Waiting 2 more minutes’ you thought, I mean come on you were startled and couldn’t move .

❄️

You slowly got up from your old position and carefully took a peek to see if they were still there.

No? Where did they go?! OH NO THEY ARE PROBABLY GOING TO KILL ME. You stumbled and started walking faster, going back to the dining room.

Some people have left. Last time you were there which was like 10 minutes ago there was almost everyone. But now there are 7, which you still didn’t mind,, as long as someone is here you’re okay.

,,Oh hey Y/N! Do you need something?? Are you still hungry?’’ Luca smiled at you as he ate the last spoon of food, chucking it in his mouth.

,,Awslo whhats witwht the face-??’’

,,Luca don’t talk with your mouth full of food, you may choke..’’

Luca ignored Emily’s comment and continued eating, still looking at you waiting for an answer. That made you nervous, you weren’t really open here to the adults around you because some of them are mean for no reason, weird and creepy..

,,Come on kiddo, you look so worried, what’s the matter?’’ He gulped the food. He looked like he was in hurry..

,, Its uh,, I thought I saw something and I got scared and now I am here because i wanna eat a fruit.’’ You quickly said as you were shaking a little bit. Luca raised an eyebrow and stared at you confused but quickly shrugged it off.

,,Whatever you say.’’

You quickly took an apple from the table and left the room once again. Munching the fruit you thought about going to the library.

Your pov

The library that hunters and survivors shared…….

FUCK!! Wait what if they don’t know about the library?? Yeah! They probably don’t. I usually don’t read the books especially in this library, because there is just a bunch of old boring information. But still I wouldn’t mind reading one there.

As I opened the big library doors, I stopped walking. Yum the smell of old books filling the air 🤞

Looking around for something to read I stopped on the travel books. Not gonna lie I found these type of books interesting, exploring and learning facts about the world around you, too bad I can’t even see it here.

Focusing on the shelf of books I finally found the one to my liking.

‘A guide book to the 1915 Panama–California Exposition’.. Eh I guess that should do it. I tip toed to get the book since it was a little bit high, I successfully got it and made my way to the big sofas.

No one’s pov

Looking through the pages while walking there you looked up so you know where you’re going and… You suddenly made an eye contact with a black sclerae and dull blue pupils that were staring at your soul at the moment.

,,AH! You were that person or thing that I saw not so long ago! Uh,, please don’t kill me I would do anything I promi-‘’ a sigh was heard behind their mask making you more nervous that even made your words stuck in your throat. It was a guy.

He positioned himself in a more comfortable position, closing his eyes and relaxing his body. He looked like he didn’t want to talk at the moment.

,,I uh.. sorry for my scream I just got scared and uh.. yeah I will go sorry for disturbing you.’’ Your shaky voice could be the only thing heard in the library.

You started walking quickly to the exit but you stopped when he spoke..

,,Wait…’’ stopping your tracks you looked behind you.

,,I… do not mind you staying..’’ his thick British accent was heard behind his mask.

You didn’t really know what to do now. He sounded shy but looked like he needed company. So.. why not then.. even if he scared the absolute shit out of you two times now. I guess he is trying to be kind.

,,Really??’’ You earned only a nod in response.

,,Alright then..’’ Sitting to the next sofa you opened your book to read from it a little. You positioned yourself and started flipping the pages.

,,Where are you coming from?’’ You broke the awkward silence while you were still scanning the old pages.

,,I… uh.. . . . I don’t want to talk about it right now..’’

You stopped reading and looked up and saw him fidgeting with his hands. He’s nervous.

,,Ah.. I am sorry for asking.. well then what is your name..?’’

,,Ithaqua..’’

,,Oh that’s a nice name, never heard of it but its pretty nice’’

,,Thank you’’

,,What about you..?’’

,,Oh my name is Y/N’’

,,You have a pretty name..’’

,,Thank you :)’’ This can’t get any awkward.

. . .

Oh not the social type.. not like I am really too…

He still looked really nervous, you don’t really know what to do.

,,Hey.. are you nervous? Is something bothering you? You can sleep here if you want I can bring you some blankets and-‘’

,,No I am fine..’’

,,Oh well then.. okay. Are you still sure? I could even make you something to drink like hot cocoa.’’

Now he stopped what he was doing and thought for a little.

,,Yes please, can I?’’

,,Of course. I will be back soon you just wait here.’’

‘He seems nice’

❄️❄️❄️

Getting back with two hot cocoas in your hands you handed him the drink and he took the cup with his cold hands. He quickly muttered a ‘thank you’. He removed a little his mask and drank from it. Only his mouth could be seen nothing else. A satisfied sigh left his lips after he drank the hot sweet liquid, and thanked you again but this time you could hear him clear.

You smiled in response and sat on the sofa once again as you drank your hot drink.

. . . .

,,This is the third time saying that but.. I have to thank you again.. but this time for the nice welcome.. I appreciate it..’’ You could see his little smile under the mask that was covering almost his whole face.

,,Hey it’s no problem, If you need someone to talk to you can always chat with me ’’

His pale cheeks reddened a bit which he quickly pulled his mask to cover his face now. Behind it he smiled, which you indeed did a great job getting rid of his anxiety.

,,Can we see each other more often here.?’’

#idv ithaqua #identity v ithaqua #identity v night watch #night watch idv #identity v x reader #idv x reader #identity v x you #identity v headcanons #identity v oneshot #identity v

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themswritinwords · 11 months ago

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Past/Current/Next WIP Game

This looked way too fun, so I'm hopping on an open tag from @blind-the-winds. Gonna no-pressure tag @northernrosewritings, @hayatheauthor, and, of course, passing on the open tag! (That means you!)

Rules: past is a WIP you stopped working on/finished; current is a WIP you're currently working on; next is a WIP you want to write

Past

I was gonna go for Ethan Ellis, since it's the only one that's officially done in the sense of "in a publishable shape and currently being queried." But then I thought about my first love, Shadows of Flame.

It's post(-near)-apocalyptic high fantasy, wherein the King's right hand man, Ayris, is living a lie. For his own safety, of course, but a lie nonetheless. See, Ayris can do magic. If he'd been around 20 years ago, this would have made him one of the Irriman. Only around 20 years ago, one of the Irriman went off the deep end and tried to take over the known world. She nearly succeeded, too. After having murdered, subsumed, mind controlled, or otherwise squashed all opposing Irriman voices, stealing all their magic for her own in the process, she marched her army of unfailingly loyal supernatural freaks across the continent, steamrolling everyone and everything that wouldn't submit to her rule. An alliance between the three largest and strongest nations managed to stop her. By stop her, I mean kill her. Which is great news, unless you're Ayris. Because not only has he lived his whole life having to hide his powers for fear of getting murdered as a potential threat, it turns out it didn't work. She's back, and she's got her sights set on revenge-- and Ayris.

If we go back to the earliest iterations, I've been working on this one for 15 years. Of course, I don't want anyone going back to those earliest iterations, and I will start torching old notebooks to make sure that doesn't happen. But my point is that I have a special place in my heart for Ayris. I was working on this one in its current unfinished iteration when I had my child 4 years ago, but put it on hold just after covid lockdowns when I realized the pacing I'd had set out just wasn't working. There was more to it than that, but that was the biggest issue I couldn't seem to get past. So I shelved it. But you can't keep a good WIP down, so it'll soon be out of "past" and into "present," and I'm so excited! I've figured out what needs to change, I have a plan, and I even have most of an outline. (Amazing what 2 years on the shelf will do, eh?) But it's gonna have to wait, because....

Present

The Rockbridge Experiment. Urban fantasy meets Southern Gothic, with just enough "dude that's messed up" to toe the line of horror crossover.

Evan Grant is a detective. For now, anyway. She was pretty close to quitting altogether, especially when she got this assignment. Fae in the human district. What could possibly go wrong? A lot, as it turns out, and none of it in the way she expected. When she's paired up with a half-dwarf and a dying elf to solve a string of kidnappings and murders, Evan's whole belief system gets put to the test. The elf just so happens to be able to see the future, which might be handy if they weren't living in a world where magic was hunted to extinction several thousand years ago. Worse, those kidnappings and murders are starting to smell an awful lot like a drunken uncle's favorite dinner table conspiracy theory- that there's folk out there running horrible experiments to try and bring magic back. Evan and her new partners have to solve these cases quickly and quietly, or risk upsetting the delicate balance of human-Fae relations, quite possibly unpausing a particularly uneasy cold war. Add in an undead (maybe possessed) terrorist, the literal monsters in the shadows, and a millennia-old, quite-possibly-all-powerful baddie pulling strings they didn't even know existed, these kids are about to have one heck of a time.

"But wait!" I hear you cry. I thought that was one of the finished ones! And to that I say, "you're right! But I'm rewriting it!" Not editing, rewriting. Why? Because the first draft was, I kid you not, 365k words.

And yes, I may have had three separate alpha readers binge it in less than 3 days and come back asking where the sequel is, and yes, I spent a long time crying in the shower about how much I didn't want to change a dang thing because do you have any idea how long it takes to write 365000 words??? But as much as I love my slow-burn, takes-its-time, thoughtful-exploration-experience version, it's never getting published like this. Hard stop. It's just not. It took a lot of shower tears, but I've accepted that.

I've also learned a thing or two about the craft of storytelling since finishing it the first time, as well as over the course of finishing it the first time--- my writing style matured a lot from the front half to the back, and it unfortunately shows. So did my understanding of story structure, my characters, my own worldbuilding, etc. So I know now what's extraneous and where I want these characters to go, and I had just enough alpha reader feedback to know what landed the way I wanted it to and what didn't. I know what I need to do to make it as tight, coherent, and impactful as possible. So rewrites are underway, and we're not stopping til we've chopped this sucker at least in half! Which isn't to say it's gonna become a novella, not by any means. My best estimate right now is still sitting around 120k, but at least that's within the realm of "non-debut normal-ish" for the genre.

Future

I could cheat and say Shadows of Flame again, because I'm gonna start working on that one as soon as I get Rockbridge settled. But I like having two or three active non-editing WIPs at a time, so I'll also put in a plug for my next brainworm hyperfixation, which I'm currently calling "Fantasy Escort Mission, but with Babies, Goats, and Demons."

Okay, there's only one each of those, but our protagonist Ayla Severin, gets saddled with all three. She only knows about the baby and the goat, though, because the demon is bound to the baby's bodyguard. Why does the baby have a bodyguard, you ask? Because it's the infant prince of the neighboring kingdom. With whom Ayla's country is at war. Because a rebel faction framed Ayla's nation for the murders of the entire royal family. The baby, however, escaped (thanks, bodyguard!), and is living proof of the framing. If Ayla's team can get the prince back to the members of government who weren't part of the coup, they might be able to stop the war and bring the rebels to justice. Unfortunately, the only possible way they're getting across enemy lines without getting caught is through a wilderness so inhospitable that both countries gave it up as hopeless decades ago. That would be hard enough for an elite force of highly-skilled commando soldiers, but this is a baby we're talking about. An orphaned baby, and orphaned babies have to eat, so along comes the milking goat. And the demon? Well, it's certainly not going to be making things any easier, but just what it is up to is anyone's guess. Ayla gets to sort all of that out while also battling her own, less literal demons-- the grief of losing her little family, and the guilt that comes along with it.

So keep a look out in the next few months for early brainrot re: my many Plots, Schemes, and Homemade Blorbos, because I'm super excited about literally all of these!

#writing #wip games #writing games #ocs #wips #writeblr

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variousqueerthings · 3 months ago

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OK we finished the episode

idk if it's better to do this before watching the final episode, because i assume it'll contain REAP-RRRR-CUSHNS but I'm gonna do it now

um. idk. bro i think you misread trauma bonding and guilt as love? literally gets triggered into seeing snow falling when he thinks about her 🤪😩

ANSWERS TO THE QUESTIONS:

why was she there? TO FUCK HIS SHIT UP THAT'S WHAT (woo). Ok, no seriously, she is there to have her cake (frame fraser and get her revenge) and eat it too (keep that sweet canadian cutie with her). she's a fucked up lil gal and I do like that (but i will get into some of the bits that made me hmmmm) (her fucking shit up is great tho!)

why was she so quick to fall into his arms after he put her away?see above. she genuinely did want to get him. the other pertinent question is "how does this work with the ways in which i read fraser's state of mind and how she uses that against him GIRL TRIED TO KILL DIEFENBAKER??? FRASER WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

what is she hoping to get out of him in part 2, considering how part 1 ended? bonnie and clyde situation. actually most of my Stuff with this episode doesn't have to do with her writing (except for the last scene, i was a bit eh on that, tbc)

will we get more context for their emotional connection outside of the story about the snowstorm? no. it really is that. i should add actually that there is also the guilt of him giving her up afterwards and that sets up a lot of her both Wanting him (he's a fucking specimen + mythical being wrapped up in a cutie-patootie overly earnest packaging) and Hating him (he put her in jail/he's also just... fun to poke at) so will leave it there for a second, because that is Her... now what is up with Him?

THE OTHER QUESTIONS:

how do i feel about the pacing? so episode one improves with episode two, and there are hints in there that things are Off, but mainly. MAINLY I'm talking about the sex scene (ofc i am). so a lot of this is related to fraser-Thoughts about how he feels OOC (unless he doesn't 👀 because she's fucking with him and his feelings and manipulating him into feeling real bad about everything), but it's the difficulty in establishing a real bond between these two that feels real, and while it was obviously important for her to be in his apartment, i think they fell for a classic tv-laziness of "if we just tell the audience + show a little easy montage of them idk. watching tv and play some sexy feely 90s music to do the shortcut" and it's not that I'm against a sex-scene per se (i read asexual aromanticism into waaaay flimsier texts, this one is still pretty darn solid) if she'd come in and been vulnerable and they'd made dinner and she'd given the sob story and he'd fallen asleep and then she'd washed her prints and left and in episode two, when she's at her most "fragile" (or so he thinks) she pushed that into sex.. I think that would have been stronger. played more into her manipulative plan, the ways she has him on a string, the mixed up feelings of trauma and guilt and naivety and hope he has also it would have evened out the episode lengths

how do i feel about how this interacts with previous text vis a vis fraser's emotional internality? ha so, i hmmm... on the one hand the OOC'ness feels like it wasn't totally intentional -- that is the writing also wanted the whole cake + eating it situation, in that it wanted to explore him being used and manipulated by this woman in a way that also kind of wants the whole thing to have an air of "pure love" to it that doesn't gel entirely with the actual text. that is, there could have been more ambiguity to some of it and it wouldn't have weakened anything, it may have been more obviously an abusive/manipulative Thing, but... it kind of already is on the other hand that's what's really fun to read into this dynamic. she really genuinely wants this man, but entirely on her terms. and meanwhile fraser is totally turned around and doesn't know what he wants, so she calls the shots, which is why she's in control of the narrative for so long. she fucks with him by appearing over and over and disappearing in order to stir up all those old memories, that shit is targeted to get to him (and the snow! the snow OH MY GOODNESS that was FASCINATING - bro that reads like a fucking trigger, not love) and to add to that, there's the speech to his dad (which again, part two being what ties it all together) about how his dad never knew his mother and how that ties to love, and I've gotta rewatch that scene, because I think that's what ties it together. his dad asks if it's snowing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I've connected the dots, but I'm not 100% sure if it's all the dots intended but. I have a bias duh) (the dots are that fraser and sex still don't mesh, and fraser was never in love with her) (we'll get to The Train)

how do i feel that this progresses the wider story thematically? I actually cannot answer this until the next episode at least

what do i take from the victoria and fraser relationship? see all of above points, but mainly: I like it. there are a lot of ways one can take it, but mainly I was very happy about her being genuinely quite a nasty person. she tried to kill diefenbaker, she was willing to put ray in prison, she wanted to take everything away from fraser in order to make him totally dependent on her. that's exactly what i wanted -- do I think they reneged on that a bit at the end with the train and made it kind of... try Not to be the fucked up thing that it is, but more of a tragic doomed love. that shit is only doomed and tragic because this woman is a terrible terrible person + manipulative bastard (which is based) (and also because fraser is aroace) (theres a dark!fic in there where she somehow gets fraser with her -- maybe he does get on the train and ray misses and she just. completely destroy him. because that's what she likes to do with him) (it kind of speaks to "the wild bunch" -- if that was civilisation trying to destroy his soul, this was a literal person trying to do the same. and he has so little idea of his own internal self that he has no idea how to stop her or even to stop her. ray was right to try and shoot her)

best parts - fraser confronting his dad. actually all the fraser and his dad scenes, also when he cries - ray. everything ray. ray forever. ray feeling sad and abandoned. ray threatening to kill her. ray putting everything on the line for fraser. ray in part two never doubting fraser for a second. ray knows fraser dammit!!! your own thesis about knowing and love is right there (ok i'm chill) RAY SHOOTING HIM!!!!! ARGH!!!!!! - the story fraser tells the priest. that was all soooo the Dynamic i wanted. the fear and conviction that they were going to die, the kinkiness of putting the hands in the mouth to keep her warm, the guilt that they had this intense moment and he still gave her up, the half-remembered poetry he'd mentioned before, the way he feels kind of crazy thinking about her (because she's out to drive him crazy), i definitely want to listen to that again - the whole bit when she's talking to him through the peep show window up to her kicking him out of the car, everything ramping up is Great and it really solidifies her and her relation to fraser and how she uses him

weakest parts - sex scene just a bit silly and not quite believable in terms of structuring - i just don't buy that ray's reaction to fraser missing work because of a woman would be elation, not because of queer reads, but because it's so blatantly out of character for fraser that it should have provoked a bigger reaction of disbelief, either for positive or for negative. we do get a bit more of that in the second part (when he threatens her), but yeah, it just feels a bit too much like it's playing into the heteronormative shorthand that having sex (with a woman) -- no matter how abnormal for a specific individual -- is the normal thing to aspire to/has created a normalised state of affairs, even though it... obviously hasn't, as witnessed by the whole rest of the episode (and the fact that he didn't go to work is a red flag that something is wrong) - there is some wishy-washy stuff the whole way through in terms of failure to Commit to just how fucked up everything is, as witnessed by ray's initial reaction. at heart, the show does think that sex/romance is normal, and so, fraser has been abnormal the whole time and it wants to create some kind of core of explaining that through a True Tragic Love, while also wanting to play around with some quite fun "what if the villain is into the hero, but is still, inherently, the villain" which we also saw done very well in shows like elementary (not quite like, say, x-men, where magneto believes in a cause, I mean a villain who Is Just Bad) - this mostly evidenced by the train at the end, it's just a bit weak. either she's trying to manipulate him by returning to "sweet and vulnerable" which i truly just don't think he should've fallen for again, (that's the "normalisation" part of it all, it really is love, blablabla) or like. she should've tried to force him on somehow. or a mix of the two, depicting her honest desperation, and also her ruthlessness to play with his feelings in order to get what she wants, because like. she shot diefenbaker. she framed ray. she almost destroyed fraser's whole reason for being

CONCLUSION: I'll wait and see where the next episode goes, but there's a lot to play with in this

i will obvs still be reading him as aroace. now he's just super super traumatised about it, oh well. that's so sad, i need to read/write fic about it

#due south #im watching due south #im watching tv #did i edit any of this? no. unfiltered thoughts only lets go

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aonoryuhei · 4 months ago

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Aug 9-11 2024

i meant to write this on monday but tehepero... anyway this weekend was a big moment for me!! first, it was my first trip somewhere completely alone! no friends, no parents, just me and my car for a couple of days (my parents joined me via train on the last train but all the big stuff happened before then so it still counts!). second, i got a p cool award ehe...

day 1 was mainly me leaving my house later than i expected because it was STORMING!! and then driving for a few hours... the drive was a bit meh cause i kept getting sleeping -> forced myself to sing loudly to a playlist my friends collabed on -> would relax -> GET SLEEPY AGAIN... also the last 40 minutes were eternal?!!? i kept driving and driving and driving and it's not like the estimated arrival time changed but it felt like time kept dragging on 😭 i was literally so tired when i finally arrived to the hotel (actually resort... i splurged and decided to treat myself by staying at the hotel where the conference was at LOL) i accidentally replied to a worker greeting me by saying "welcome!" PFFT... i was dying by the time i got to my room. i managed to drag myself to registration and went to the free dinner they had. which was awkward because i knew nobody there and there weren't enough tables so i ate standing up.... BUT IT WAS STILL YUMMY!! i ate some french chicken (?) with some delicious carrots and potatoes. for dessert they had these tiny carrot cakes (delish) and these... decadent... pistachio cookies.... i should've had more of those lmfaoooo

day 2 was off to a good start because i went to bed EARLYYYYY like earlier than i ever have. breakfast (featured) was so yummy and filling!! i had a couple cups of tea and also POG juice LOL i was so shocked when i saw the label for that. honestly this conference was really clinical and kinda out of my league so after looking at some exhibition posters i went back to my room and napped 😴😴😴 LMFAO. i woke up in time to pick up lunch and went to a breakout session which like. was cool but not very helpful ig to me... i just watched tv the rest of the day until it was time to get ready for the awards dinner. i was sooo nervous going to this dinner and also we unexpectedly had to walk a lot?? and it was so HOT AND HUMID i was dying... but anyway i sat with my prof's family and some very kind (and really funny??) attendees that had some hilarious chats about being parents LOL i was there eating and sipping my drinks like i was watching tv. even though i was nervous i knew it was gonna be a good time cause 1. saw a deer on the way to the dinner 2. THERE WAS A RAINBOW!!! 🌈🌈🌈 i swore it was gonna rain but instead we got a rainbow! i ended up getting a very cool engraved pen/pencil case!! it's wooden!! and the pen(cil)s have my name on them!! i felt like a really accomplished adult seeing that lol

day 3 was me fighting for my life to leave my hotel room in time to check out.. i was SO tired and had to finish packing.. my parent's train ride got delayed so i took advantage of this to finally free myself of the disney area!!! cause bro why is everything disney SO far away from the rest of the city!!!! i went to this really cool coffee/comics store! the lavender/white choco coffee i had was SOOO yummy and it was so cool to be able to have ur drink and just peruse the store... it honestly made me miss reading comics as messy as those are lmfao i got some fun stuff INCLUDING... WAIT FOR IT.. A GREEN LANTERN ZERO HOUR ISSUE LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. AND IT GETS BETTER. IT'S THE ISSUE THAT HAS ALAN SCOTT IN THAT POSE.... to think i would get to get my hands on a physical copy of theeee "why'd they draw this old man like that!" issue... unreal... there were actually a lot of kyle issues there which was nice ^0^ i missed him sm... 💚 i wanted to maybe get a superman issue too but i couldnt recognize any of them and got overwhelmed LMFAO. anyway this was super fun and i loved the vibes here- i would loveeee to go again!! and i would love it even more if i could find a nearby place like it (i gotta investigate)! afterwards i picked up my parents and we waited out a nasty storm at a japanese restaurant and i had the yummiest food dudes... we shared some karaage chicken and takoyaki, my mom had some ramen n my dad had some fried rice. i got the omurice and it was. so. yummy. im still sad i couldnt finish it all 🥲 OH and we had some incredible thai teas!! we stopped at a cute park on our way home which was really nice to stretch out our legs! and we saw BUNNIESSSSS they were so cute!!!

i think it was a weekend for the books yall! i really am proud of doing all this alone! as for the award... i still kinda cant believe i got it AND that the folks from the organization remembered me from last year's application... but instead of doubting myself, i think i'll use my energy into working hard and catching up this next academic year! it won't be easy, but maybe if i catch myself being too hard on myself i'll look at that pen case and remember there's people that believe in me and my work

btw i took that welt yang charm EVERYWHERE with me... emotional support old man also got to learn about the heart lol

#diari #a long post but i wanna remember these days!!

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hotnspicychiknwings · 2 months ago

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19/10/2024 - SATURDAY

I know it's midnight already and it's considered sunday but eh, Ill consider it a saturday. My parents returned from Japan yesterday. I got a Gengar backpack. This morning, my mom brought me and my sister out to eat breakfast. I thought we were gonna go to some typa kopitiam but we ended up going to Extraction. I was surprised to say the least. I got a pulled pork sandwich with the bread changed to sourdough and oh my gosh was it so good. No regrets man. The place was really cold though so I had to go outside the cafe/restaurant twice to embrace in the warmth of the sun. After that we went home, I took a really long nap. In the middle of my nap it started raining. That was the best nap I ever had. Then me and my mom went to pick my sister up from her Singapore Math tuition. It's not in singapore, it's literally called singapore math. Is it because Singapore math is more complex? I guess so. We then went to 1U and went walking for a little. We went to Street Churros and well, ate some churros. I got chocolate churro bites, my usual. We then went to Popular Bookstore to get stuff for my small business (S.S.S). I found a paper cutter for RM48.Crazy. It's usually priced at RM100 or more so I was shocked. It's B5 Size tho. After that we went walking around the H&M and whatnot since my sister was searching for clothes to buy but she didn't find anything that interested her. The one skirt that she wanted to get my mom said wasn't worth so she put it back.We then went to eat dinner at Boat Noodle. I got my usual, 2 bowls of the non spicy beef springy noodles. My mom ordered a plate of chicken along with our noodles so I ate most of it since they couldn't finish. We then went to Daiso on my request and I got some more stuff for my small business. Well 2. A book holder and a mini box. Eventually, we went to Jaya grocer and got Japanese cucumber, 2 other types of vegetables I forgot the name of and a carton of milk. We all then scurried home and settled everything back. My mom suggested we go to the neighbourhood park and whatnot but after awhile we decided not to. Timeskip to nighttime I'm working while watching kuroko's basketball and I was hungry so I heated up the leftovers from yesterday. (Pasta with abalone) (Fusion as my sister calls it). Well now I'm writing this.

Today was a good day.

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venelona · 2 months ago

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Chapter 2 - Turns out I have a LOT of stuff to say:

I didn't mention in part one but this fanfic was written with no outline. Only plot points I had in mind and pushed the story forward were 'Every full moon inches closer to one bed trope, they gonna visit Odasaku, its gonna end with Atsushi accidentally revealing his ability in front of people when he protects Dazai [from who? what? figure out later], they'll run away to ADA'. That was all. Everything else was born and decided on the go

The fanfic turned out as long as it is because I like slice-of-life stories and most of this fic was just... that. Atsushi learning and growing to be a secretary while he and Dazai fall in love. I literally only had plans for these parts. Actual plot came in on the go

'And, whenever [Dazai] was in the office with him, Atsushi felt… safe. Like he was in a normal office and doing a normal job, and not sitting in the mafia den and being an accessory to countless crimes.'

Always like me the 'oh no Dazai you're covered in blood are you okay D:' 'That's not my blood :)' moment

'"My-my, Atsushi, I didn't expect you to be so eager to get my shirt off."' later followed by '"Dazai…" Nakajima sent him a stern look. "If you don't, I will take your shirt off myself."' Dazai didn't expect kitty to have claws~

Did Dazai drag Atsushi to dinner after Atsushi cleaned his wounds because he was grateful/touched? Yes . Yes he did.

'No matter how many times it happened, Atsushi was always startled when Chuuya would kick the office door open. At least this time he hasn't fallen off his chair.'

'[Atsushi] hasn't seen Dazai in three days now. He couldn't say he wasn't worried, but then he'd remember that Dazai is a grown man and one of the bosses of the Port Mafia, who could protect himself and make smart decisions. And then he'd remember their first meeting and man's suicidal tendencies and start feeling worried again.'

I love writing Chuuya so damn much. I feel like the way he talks is the way I talk so sometimes I feel like I'm pouring too much casualness into him, but... that's my writing

Chuuya interrogating Atsushi why he works for Dazai is because Chuuya believes all Dazai is doing is toying with him [correct], but he can't understand what got Dazai so interested in Atsushi in particular

Atsushi saying 'maybe Dazai hired me to do his paperwork as a revenge for me saving his life so he has to go back to his paperwork'

Edits Dazai saying 'At-shu-shi' to 'A-tsu-shi' because Zinder told me that that makes more sense with how the name spelled in japanese

I think apart from this chapter (and the last?), Atsushi never uses his gun again. It wasn't Chekov's gun, it was just 'he's in the mafia, so Dazai gonna give him a gun' and a sad reminder for Atsushi that he's a criminal

'"Atsushiii!" This time the man flung his arm over his shoulder. "You're a lifesaver!" "I did pull you out of that river…" "That was nothing in comparison to this!"' - Yes, I love this joke. That's why its in the summary lol

I think this may be the only chapter containing a reference to crab (Dazai doesn't say its his favourite, just says they can grab some on their way back to the base)

'"Eh, [the bag] can wait." The mafioso brushed it off, before adding. "It won't explode unless somebody else touches it anyway." "Its WHAT?!" "Kiddiiiing!" Dazai smiled innocently, opening the bag. "See, it's just lemons inside."' - Yes, the bag is full of bombs. Atsushi doesn't know. Why did Dazai have to carry it somewhere? Not important. It was funny. - 'Much later, only when he already closed his eyes to sleep that Atsushi was hit with a though of why the Port Mafia needed lemons exchanged in an alleyway.'

'Dazai turned his head, staring at Chuuya like he just said something stupid. In hat rack's case, it was the default stare.'

Dazai calling Chuuya 'a short straw'

'"My-my, Chuuya, you never asked me about Akutagawa before, but now you're suddenly interested in a subordinate of mine? I'll have you know you cannot steal him from me - I hope you choke on that paperwork of yours."'

I googled typical bar names in Japan and it said 'Izakaya', so I wrote that Atsushi works at 'Izakaya bar', but since then I think I just said that he works at a bar bar?... It's fine

Dazai actually did not know Atsushi's birthday before Chuuya told him in his 'I got a background check on Atsushi' speech. - '"And now that I know I have to think of what to gift him! Thanks, hat rack."' - He did not intend to actually gift him anything back then

Dazai thinking @ Chuuya 'Oh how I wish I could shoot him like that man back at the bar.'

Chuuya believed in the whole 'Atsushi is a bait' only for a couple of months lol By the time they returned from visiting Odasaku he full-on believed they were shagging the entire time

'He doubted Port Mafia would actually punish him if they ever found out he was sheltering the tiger - he held too much value in the organization, enough to forgive a seven billion yen oopsie. Well, Mori wouldn't forgive. But he knew his secret, and so he could do as he pleased as long as he held it.' - reffering to how Dazai was a witness to how Mori became the boss of the port mafia

'"But doesn't hiring other people to do your work makes it easier?.." Atsushi frowned. "You'd think so, but I hired you, and look at me now, busy explaining things."' - Dazai meant it in more of a joking tone but mr-negative-self-confidence-Atsushi took it completely seriously

Take a shot every time Atsushi apologizes and you'll die of alcohol poisoning. I tend to write him more on the soft side than sassy, but in this fanfic Atsushi doesn't clash with anyone too often, so there's way less chances for him to unleash his sass. He mostly interacts with Dazai, but considering that Dazai is his boss he is more reluctant to sass him often

Dazai blatantly cheating with his game show predictions because he saw it before solely to impress Atsushi is so petty of him and its so funny to me

'"…why did you need to make an exchange for a bag full of lemons? Can't you just… buy them at the store?"' (c) Nakajima Atsushi

Their second full moon together (not counting the one when Atsushi was told he was the tiger) ends with Dazai being weirdly somber solely because I thought that piece of writing sounded cool and I kinda popped off. No real reason

Dazai caressing waitress's hand:

Dazai almost ordering a rope just like he tried to order from Atsushi in the beginning of the fic

Atsushi matter-of-factly stating that he thinks Dazai can pull in any woman if he stops being weird and Dazai just drinking in the compliment - '"Are you trying to talk me into raising your salary? Giving you a day off? Or paying for your tea?"' - That man loves being praised

'"Have I not mentioned we're here for work?" "You said 'a break'!" Nakajima pointedly whispered. "Atsushi, who has breaks at nine in the morning?" Dazai smirked.' - Dazai is such a teasing ass and I love him

Dazai saying 'You have such a high opinion of me', Atsushi saying 'not really', and then Dazai pranks him and Atsushi going 'Okay maybe I DO have too high of an opinion of him'

The whole '"… please don't tell me you jumped into the river again."' scene happened SOLELY FOR THAT OPENING JOKE TO EXIST

'"I don't want my death to be snotty."' (c) Dazai Osamu

Dazai-only-doing-paperwork-on-rainy-days headcanon was born on the spot. This spot. And yes Dazai does have weird six sense thing of knowing it rains outside even though the office has no windows.

'"Are you- working?" Atsushi couldn't help but raise his voice in disbelief. The man looked at him with a pokerface. "Maybe you do have a too-low opinion of me."' - This bit + the comeback of the 'you have such high opinion' thing again

'"Like once every four or five months he leaves to who-knows-where. And always at the worst time possible." [Chuuya] growled. "But don't bother worrying about that mackerel. He always comes back after two weeks."' - That's the times Dazai goes to visit Odasaku. Dazai later says '"Yeah. I was just visiting an old friend of mine."' meaning him

'"Like do I use form four-four-two-B for alcohol tax, or does it fall into four-three-point-nine-S?" "...it's actually form A-two-two-eight."' - Nier Automata reference with 2B, 9S and A2 and 228 is just an old reference to I thiiiink drugs? Was just a number people threw around a lot when I was young

Like I said I have no idea about anything paperwork, so this 'forms' for documents bit is taken from one episode of a sitcom around doctors where main doctor was learning document forms for paperwork and they have some names like that

The misdirection of 'Atsushi asking Dazai work questions, asks if he can ask one more and asks if he's okay' Yes Atsushi SO SMOOTH

'"The saleswoman at the local pharmacy rejected my offer of a double suicide, so all my plans for today were cancelled." He let out a too-loud sigh before dropping on a chair. "And after she told me about their selection of pills!" "That sounds… terrible." Atsushi winced. "I knooow! Who rejects someone after they lead them on like this!" "That's not what I meant…"' - Atsushi feels very sorry for that saleswoman

I hc that Dazai skips meals all the time. Maybe I'm projecting but I also hc he doesn't eat a lot in the first place, either. It just feels to me that as someone who feels detached from his humanity doesn't think a lot of his basic human urges

Atsushi thinks Dazai haven't had dinner because Dazai waited for Atsushi with the full moon and all and blames himself because when doesn't he. He blames himself for making Dazai waste his evening on Atsushi overall, but it's their deal

Shout out to Yamato, the only guy I had to invent for this story because I needed Atsushi to talk to someone that handles paperwork as well. They mention another clerk named Namiko, but she never shows up in the story herself. One of the scenes I had idea for but never wrote was 'accounting department closes a huge deal and they have a party, Atsushi invited as well'

Akutagawa attacks Atsushi for the same reason he attacked Oda in dark era flashback - Dazai is nice to them and Akutagawa thinks that's undeserved lol

Canon parallel - Atsushi shooting at Akutagawa and Akutagawa explaining his ability

For the longest time Akutagawa just assumes Atsushi must have an ability to heal others or something, since the only glimpse of his ability he saw was self-regeneration'

Canon parallel - Dazai telling Akutagawa that Atsushi is better than him. Except he has vastly different reasons

'If he looked at Akutagawa for one second longer, he wasn't sure he wouldn't do something that would leave a scar beyond repair. The boy might've been a tool he crafted for his purposes, but even he had a breaking point, and Dazai couldn't break him. He was a piece of the puzzle that held the power to rival Double Black but was yet to be completed. He was still useful. Even if his actions made Dazai want to shatter him.'

Dazai trying so hard to justify to himself why he got mad at Akutagawa for attacking Atsushi. This man will choke sooner than admitting that he likes to hang with that guy actually

Dazai salty at Atsushi for not telling him Akutagawa attacked him. Dazai wants Atsushi to tell him things :(

The end of chapter 2 is a bit too soon for Dazai to realize he likes having Atsushi around, but I couldn't resist. I just really wanted him to slap Akutagawa and he would do so immediately because he immediately knows who attacked Atsushi

Write My Report author notes

Today is one year since I first posted my Dazatsu fic 'Write My Report' (PM Dazai x PM Atsushi, Atsushi works as Dazai's secretary), so as I edit through all 100k+ words of it, I bring you author notes - include my favourite things about the chapters, thoughts behind some moments and fun (?) facts.

!SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE FANFIC!

(fanfic quotes will be in italics, bold italics are just the words that were italics in the quote- it makes sense- i promise-)

Starting with, of course,

Chapter 1:

I think the whole premise of the fanfic was born by that one time Dazai asks Atsushi to write his report for him after Dazai returns from his mafia kidnapping. Second half of the plot with him helping Atsushi conceal his tiger ability was an excuse for them to hold hands every full moon. I thought it would be a shortcut to my beloved 'one bed' trope. And then it didn't shortcut shit because I slow burned the hell out of it

'Great - now he was alive and uncomfortably wet.'

"I… I- I can't believe I'm going to get fired because of a guy who wanted to drown himself over paperwork." - Sweet sweet irony 😌 You want Dazai to live, Atsushi? Get to paperwork then

'Great - now he was alive and uncomfortably wet.'

"I… I- I can't believe I'm going to get fired because of a guy who wanted to drown himself over paperwork." - Sweet sweet irony 😌 You want Dazai to live, Atsushi? Get to paperwork then

I never described Atsushi's waiter uniform but this is kind of how I imagined it looking. No I don't have explanations. Literally just 'the vision.'

I guess I never described Atsushi's secretary clothes, tho it's been referenced that he has a jacket. Its also drawn on the cover lol

'He briefly contemplated drowning himself, but he didn't want his last day to be so full of Chuuya, so he decided on another kind of drink tonight.'

Dazai mercelessly shooting the guy in the bar who saw Atsushi transform was one of the things that were supposed to back up that 'Dark Dazai' tag. And then I kinda forgot to make him do more evil things later on lol He kills more people but more off screen and I kinda fumbled that tag ngl

COOL FANART COOL FANART LOOK AT THE COOL FANART something made me hate that scene but then zinder came in and made me love it 😭💖💖💖

'"Ah, you're awake." A vaguely familiar voice called from the doorway.' They caught Atsushi trying to cross the boarder-

The section where Dazai explains Atsushi about how he's the tiger and offers the deal is the only section where one POV breaks and you can see the other, but I decided to keep it. It was written this way because I didn't plan on keeping their POVs very separate, but then they never broke again lol

"Close your mouth, Atsushi, I already saw plenty of your fangs today."

Atsushi never, for even one second, regretting helping Dazai and saying so to him every time 😭🙏

I love writing canon moments altered by whatever the premise of the fic is - in this case, PM Dazai and Atsushi. Canon parallels - Dazai blackmailing Atsushi into the job.

Never really described but Dazai's office is on the first floor in part of it where not a lot of people pass by. All executives have more proper offices but Dazai really just took a room he didn't need a lot of time to get to. That makes Atsushi's work a bit annoying because most mafia clerks work on other floors together and he alone gotta run back and forth

It probably shows but I know nothing of the ways of office paperworks

"Eh, you're doing fiiine." His employer waved from the couch. "You're doing a way better job than I ever did, Atsushi." "How?.." "You're looking at the papers." Dazai smirked. "That's more than I usually do."

Initially one big point of conflict was supposed to be that Dazai holds a very high position in the mafia, so the papers he handles is full of very valuable information. And the fact that he let Atsushi into all of that information gives Atsushi some degree of power in the mafia, but also makes him a target for others... and then this never really came up lol

I don't think this was ever outright stated but Dazai's apartment is on a very high floor - not last one, but still high up. Like, twenty or something. The whole building inhabited by mafia workers, but he's really the only big fish in it

"I can't just make something up! Besides, from the amount of complaining notes-" Atsushi pointed at the hefty pile of papers Dazai was sitting right next to. "People do read your reports." "Oh, you actually read these?" Dazai picked up a few papers from that stack. "I usually just throw them away." "It's not even all of them?!" "Oh, it's probably just from the last three days."

Dazai saying 'Chuuya probably wrote half of the complaints and that's why I am not reading them' is just an excuse. He's just too lazy to read them

Something about Chuuya being described as 'The hat man' is sending me

[Dazai and Chuuya] '"When was the last time I made a wrong decision, hm?" "I don't know, yesterday? In the morning? Five minutes ago?"'

'"Atsushi, you should visit more places." Dazai shook his head. "Do you even go anywhere on your days off?" "I don't have days off." Atsushi blinked at him. Dazai blinked back. "Really?" "You never told me I have any."' - Atsushi never even asking if he has off days for like two weeks 😭 He'd work without them too, that poor man. Dazai gave him Thursday off because that was the only day Dazai himself actually occupied his office before he hired Atsushi. Dazai was fine without an office (he'd find a place to laze around), but people were complaining that he's hard to find when someone wanted to talk to him, and so he told everyone he can be found on Thursdays. After he hired Atsushi he started spending like 50% more of his time in the office because when he wanted to laze around he was like 'might as well do it in the office, I can occupy the couch, I am not alone and people will shout at me less and even praise me for being at work)

'Atsushi shook his head again. He needed to distract himself. "So… that was Akutagawa, huh?" That was probably the worst topic he could've picked for a distraction, but anxiety hasn't let him think of any other at the moment.'

Never elaborated on but in this story other executives have a lot of people that are under their command specifically. Dazai still orders people around and gives them work and stuff, but the only person he hired himself before Atsushi was Akutagawa. So that's why Atsushi is kind of treated like a big deal by other mafia members. Also half the reason why Akutagawa was angry at his existence

Dazai telling Atsushi 'I think you and Akutagawa would work great together' was a nod to New Double Black. He was still envisioning it in his mind even though Atsushi was working as his secretary and didn't use his ability at all, but later on when he started caring for Atsushi he kind of waved that idea off because he didn't want Atsushi using his ability at all

'"Atsushi, I didn't give you a day off today so you could spend it calling me at eight in the morning."'

If you're wandering why I always juggle how I call Dazai (the brunet/the mafioso/the bandaged man) and others is because in school during language lessons one lesson that stuck to me was that you can't use the same word in two sentences in a row, or it'll sound bad. So half my writing comes from me trying to juggle the same words back and forth. h e l p

Never described but I like to imagine that Dazai got panorama windows in his living room. I never stated this because I don't think he would - something like that would up the chances of his enemies finding where he lives and Dazai wouldn't bother risking that. But... that's what my cinematic imagination wants

'"If you planned on holding hands all night, I regret to inform you that I have no habits of flirting with men."' - canon parallel + THAT WAS THE PREMISE OF THE FIC AND I BARELY DID IT 😭😭😭

'"Or you wanted to watch me sleep the whole night? I didn't think you were such a pervert, Atsushi."' - a set up for a joke in chapter 6. Yes. I thought of that stupid joke this far back.

'And, he supposed, watching Atsushi struggle with the paperwork made it a teensy bit more enjoyable to do. By which he meant it was still a nightmare and he'd rather throw himself off this very building than work on it, but still. A little bit more enjoyable.'

I got SO many comments on SO many chapters about 'when Atsushi will tell Dazai about his tragic past'. Either they missed the 'Probably had to do with that orphanage he talked about earlier, but Dazai didn't care for sob stories about the past.' line, or wanted something more- Dazai KNEW, he connected the dots, he just didn't care back then

Dazai was supposed not to care for Atsushi in these earlier stages but I kind of fumbled it and made him too caring a bit too quickly but. Whatever can you do.

#i wanted to do more than one chapter per reblog but i forgot that chapter 2 is ginormous #reblog #self reblog #bsd #bungou stray dogs #dazatsu #dazai #atsushi #dazai x atsushi #atsushi x dazai #bsd dazai #bsd atsushi #dazushi #write my report #write my report author notes

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heyhihellosworld · 2 years ago

Text

𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴

Mason Mount x reader

Word count: 1k

Summary: Mason's sour after a bad game

Warnings: Fluff, a little angst, Hotspur vs Chelsea should be a warning in itself

Notes: Just a very simple, basic short one-shot tbh but I just had to write about this match. I'm still reliving it and get just as angry all the time. Like how, just how.

You could see how he was fuming, anger and disappointment just oozing off of him as he walked off the pitch. Clapping a few claps as a thanks for the supporters before walking down the tunnel with his head down just as his teammates.

It wasn't a bad game for Chelsea, having made two perfect goals but the frustrating and disappointing thing had been the referee.

Two goals for Tottenham, both who should have been denied because of faults but no, nothing judged and the goals stood.

You thought you were almost more fuming than Mason at that moment. Screaming at the tv-screen as Cucurella was dragged down and screaming even more when nothing happened as a result.

It was a little funny actually how you never cared about football until you met Mason. After he had taken you to your first game, United vs Arsenal you had been stuck. Watching every game and every league possible. Just this evening you hadn't been able to go to the actual game because of a late meeting so instead opted to have it on in the background. It was probably better anyway because you were sure you'd stormed the pitch if you'd been there. Not so good for your career though.

When Mason came home you had calmed down a little bit, stood cooking dinner when he announced he was home with a flat voice.

You met him in the hallway with a hug that he immediately welcomed, pulling you close to him and wrapping his arms around your body.

"I'm sorry for the game, you deserved those three points" you said lowly against his ear, hearing him hum in response.

"Wait you watched?" he questioned, pulling away a little bit while you shrugged "Well of course"

"Didn't you have a meeting?" he questioned confused.

"Well yeah, I had it on in the background" you said like it was obvious. Mason cracked a grin at you, chuckling as he pulled you into his embrace again. "Bet that was really popular in front of your bosses huh?" "Eh, they barely noticed. I accidentally screamed once but I blamed it on the cat"

Mason laughed, kissing your temple "Babe we don't have a cat"

"I know but they don't" You grinned back, untangling from his grip to stir around in your pasta sauce. "What if they come here some day?" "Well, then i'll just say it ran in front of the bus or something" you shrugged again, delighted with his laughter as he moved into the house.

"You're really lovely, aren't you"

"I can be" you grinned back, turning around to peck his lips. He was already in a better mood which made you in a better mood too. "It smells really good" he said sweetly, pecking your temple again before pulling away, walking over to the hallway to pick up his wash bag. "I'm gonna go shower"

"Do that" you nodded, continuing to cook as he showered quickly, soon emerging from the bedroom in a comfy hoodie and sweatpants.

He looked really tired and you knew he was, it had been a real busy time this far and it was going to get even busier. Training and training and traveling around England non-stop. It was what he loved, his dream but of course it could still be exhausting.

"You wanna talk about it?" You asked softly as you stirred down the pasta in the pot.

"Not really, just disappointing. Like we did play well I think, it was a good game for us but the goals are just really disappointing and to know that it was supposed to be 2-0 but still only go away with one point is rough. I think we deserved more of that game" he huffed, venting off.

"Well, you're right, it is disappointing but at least you can go away with the feeling that you played a good game and that you are in a good place. You got robbed of those points, sure but you're in a better place and there are a lot of points to come. At least you weren't the one getting a cheap win and the ones robbing" Mason chuckled at your metaphor, grabbing two plates from the top cabin. "Well you're right about that"

"But to be honest it's kinda rough overall right now"

You raised your eyebrows at him, never having heard of it before. "What?" "Well" he sighed, leaning back against his palms on the counter. "We haven't started good have we?" "No, maybe not good but not horrendously either"

"Well it's just a really nervous tension in the group. Nobody knows what's gonna happen with the transfers and we haven't been able to adjust to the new group at all. I-I guess i'm just worried something huge is gonna happen"

"Well, I get that but you have to give it some time, it hasn't gone many games yet and you will get together in the team. And if something big happens.... well then we deal with it then. Don't go around worry about it know, just focus on getting in shape"

Mason smiled through your sentence before letting out an over dramatic gasp. "What?! You're telling me I'm not in shape" he said in a mock hurt, clutching his chest which made you laugh, handing him a plate of the pasta and kissing his cheek. "Well, we all know you can be better and even if it shouldn't be like that Chelsea isn't on it's best if you aren't on your best"

"Awwww" he grinned, making you laugh again while you grabbed your own plate. Walking towards the living room. "Let's watch some trash-tv" you announced, seeing his smile as he followed you out to the living room and dimped down into the couch.

"Gladly"

#mason mount #footballer imagine #footballer fanfiction #footballer fanfic #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagines #england nt #mason mount fanfiction

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sychosid · 2 years ago

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baby, don't deny what your poor heart needs

trans! 1-2-3 Kid/Razor Ramon

hi! On my bullshit again but god I've got Kid/Razor on the mind and I wanted to write something purely self indulgent between commissions. So here's some absolutely dripping in personally inspired trans narrative Kid.

Anyway I got to talking with Scotty and we talked about how getting your first suit as a trans man is such a big thing, and I thought it'd be sweet if Razor bought Kid his first suit.

I have a whole list in my head of headcanons for this version of Kid I may or may not post?

Also loosely related to Xentex's lovely standalone fic for his trans Diesel muse.

TWs:

needles/injections in the first part, nothing descriptive, internalized and mentioned transphobia, NSFW content.

[Ao3 Link]

Kid was laid flat on his stomach on the cushy hotel bed as he watched Razor tapping away air bubbles from the syringe in his hands. Ever since he began running with the Cuban, he insisted on doing Kid's t-shots for him. He had said it was something nostalgic for him. Kid was a little annoyed at first, but he was quick to relent given that Razor was a hell of a lot better at injecting him than he was. It sucked to have to do his shots in his thighs, and having to wrestle right after usually would put him in a ton of pain.

Instead, having the shot done by his hip was just more comfortable.

"What're you wearing to the charity dinner?" Kid asked, smushing his cheek against the pillow he was resting on as he caught Razor's eye.

"Eh, maybe just gonna throw a white suit over the usual on and call it a day." Razor shrugged. He was already replacing the needle. Kid didn't know how Razor had it all memorized. It basically took him half an hour to get through all the steps, having to consult the worn out instructions sheet he kept with the vials. Sure Razor had a good memory, but he did it with so much ease.

"Man, even you're wearing a suit?" He pouted. He'd basically asked every wrestler what they'd be wearing at this point. Shawn was gonna be in a suit, Diesel was going to be doing just a button up with a sportcoat, hell even the Bushwhackers had suits! Kid didn't even own a button up. Most events Vince made them do were casual enough he could get away with a t-shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket. But this one was all fancy, way more formal and stiff than anything Kid had attended. The last time he wore a suit must've been…never. He frowned more, realizing he'd never owned a suit.

Razor ruffled his hair, taking him out of his thoughts as the taller man rounded the bed. He pulled Kid's waistband down, wiping the injection site down with an alcohol pad.

"What, you're not?" Razor asked, waving his hand over the alcohol to dry it off.

"I don't have a suit, Raze. Never did. Always had to wear dresses to big stuff." Kid sighed. He couldn't help the way it made him feel. His mom had always spent so much on those dresses, he never had the heart to tell her he didn't want to wear them. He knew how important having a daughter was to her; for a long time he was worried he'd just break her heart so he kept quiet.

He was thankful puberty never hit him too hard, though. A loose enough shirt usually got the job done to hide his body.

Kid came out to his mom when he first broke into wrestling. He couldn't make himself wrestle the women's division, or in any women's promotion. His mom had struggled with it. They fought. He moved in with his grandparents who were somehow more understanding.

The King had helped him out a ton, too. He owed him for being the reason he got to wrestle in the men's divisions.

"Ready?" Razor's voice brought him out of the past. He nodded, the slight sting hitting him as Razor pushed the needle through the skin he held taut. "So you never had a suit? Never been fitted for one?"

Kid shook his head as Razor pulled his hand away, depressing the plunger. "Never Raze. Makes me kinda nervous, going to buy a suit. I mean I can get one off the rack at Macy's or something I guess, but I can only afford the discount stuff and all that's too big on me. I'll look like a kid playing in his dad's clothes."

"Then get one tailored, chico."

"I don't think I need to tell you why that makes me nervous." Kid scoffed, rolling his eyes as Razor pulled the needle out, replacing it with an alcohol pad held gently against his skin. "Like, y'know what if they take inseams and they like…notice."

"If you pack they won't." Razor took care of disposal as he spoke, gently pulling Kid's waistband up.

"I don't know man…you know I usually don't anyway.

"Oyame, chico. I'll take you to my tailor. He won't say shit to you, he made suits for Vinnie. Does suits for dykes too. I'll explain it to him, okay?" Sharps disposed, Razor sat on the edge of the bed with a smile as he looked down at Kid.

The young man wouldn't admit it to his face, but he loved when Razor actually smiled. Not that slimy smirk of his, but a real smile. He couldn't help himself from smiling back.

"Alright Raze, but I don't know if I can afford that."

That got him a smack to the back of the head.

"The fuck you think I am? I'm gonna make you pay for this? It's a gift, niño. From me. You wear that shit and if anyone asks, you tell them Razor Ramon got it for you, got it?" He had pulled the toothpick from his mouth, pointing it at Kid as he spoke, making him laugh.

"Yeah I hear you big man. Mr. Ramon so kindly bought me my suit."

"Damn straight." He leaned down, pushing Kid's curls back as he placed a kiss to his forehead. Kid stuck his tongue out in response, before sighing.

"Thanks Raze."

"You're running with me. That means you get the best, or nothing." Razor patted him on the back, "we'll go tomorrow, all right?"

"Alright. You're the boss, Mr. Ramon."

"Damn right I am."

—

Razor managed to pull off a pretty comfortable experience for Kid's first time getting fit for a suit. Measurements weren't any different from when he would get fitted for wrestling gear, there was just a lot more to measure. Thankfully, his tailor offered private rooms so Kid didn't have to deal with any of the anxiety provided by someone potentially walking in.

He also couldn't deny the way it made him feel a lot more like a man to even go through the experience of getting fitted.

To save time, they had picked out a premade suit to be altered, given the charity dinner was that weekend. Razor had been pretty upset he couldn't pay for a suit to be made for Kid, but Kid reasoned that he didn't even need to wear them all that often in the first place.

Come Friday morning, the suit was ready.

Razor had picked it out, not that Kid had a problem with that. It was navy, with a black trim on the inside. According to the big man himself, he chose it because cool colors suited Kid more than blacks or anything warm.

For the most part, Kid had no idea what Razor would be going on about so he just nodded along and agreed.

Still, trying it on was something different. Razor had pretty much picked out everything else: the dress shirt, shoes, tie, belt…

“I’m worried I’m going to look stupid.” Kid was frowning as Razor was tying his tie for him.

“Ay niño, you look handsome. You look like the man you are.” The taller man chided him, speaking with a cigar in his mouth as he tightened the tie up to his neck. “That comfortable?”

Being called handsome by Razor of all people always made Kid’s chest swell with joy. “You really think so?”

“Don’t be stupid. The fuck would I lie to you for?”

Kid grinned as he was scolded, putting on the coat jacket as it was handed to him.

“There’s three buttons, you just button the top two.”

“Got it, boss.” Kid rolled his eyes, secretly appreciative of how much Razor gave instruction. If it wasn’t for him, he’d end up going to the dinner looking like he rolled in right off the street and Vince would’ve had his head for it. Slim fingers worked on the buttons before straightening the jacket out. He had to admit, it was a lot more comfortable than he expected. There was something nice about having the layer of the jacket to hide any awkward bumps the dress shirt wouldn’t.

“Alright. Now that’s a handsome guy. Turn around.” Razor was grinning at him pulling his cigar out of his mouth as he looked down at Kid. With one hand, he gently turned Kid around to face himself in the mirror.

Kid normally tried not to let his emotions really get to him in any big way, but this time he couldn’t help it. There was just a prick of tears in his eyes as he looked himself over in the full body mirror. Head to toe, he looked like he actually belonged in men’s formal wear. The pants gave enough of a drop near his crotch he wouldn’t be too uncomfortable even if he did pack, the jacket drew away from his chest and gave him a boxier looking frame instead of emphasizing how petite his body usually looked. Even his shoes didn’t look too small. He couldn’t help but smile as he checked himself out in the mirror.

“That’s not all. Here.” Razor pulled a small box out of his pocket, giving it to Kid. “Open it, c’mon.”

“Geez man, just like wait a second.” Kid huffed, pulling the golden cover off of the small box. Inside was some actual gold; two gold cufflinks and a chain. He was stunned, mouth slightly agape as he looked down at the gift and then at Razor.

“It’s real gold, chico. We’ll have matching cufflinks. And I figured you can wear the chain with just the shirt sometimes. When I take you out, I mean. You’ve been rolling with me this long. I can't have you without at least some gold, yeah?” Razor looked real proud, moving closer to Kid, pulling the cufflinks out of the box and affixing them to the ends of the sleeves of the jacket.

“Raze, this is too much isn’t it?”

“What, you stole my money and now you’re too good for my gold, huh? This shit is as real as it gets, chico.”

“Okay you like, already got over that. And I mean, this is different. You bought this for me. This must’ve been expensive.”

Razor took a puff of his cigar before he pointed it at Kid. “Nothing is too expensive for Razor Ramon, comprende?”

Kid huffed, before grinning. “Only because it’s you Raze, am I even worried that you spent money like this on me. I’d be out the door with anyone else.” He looked at the cufflinks, admiring the way they complimented the deep blue of the jacket.

Razor just shook his head in response as Kid looked himself over again in the mirror.

“I almost don’t want to take it off.”

"Mm. I can help you with that niño."

Kid watched as Razor put the cigar out in the ash tray. The larger man stepped in closer, pressing himself flush against Kid's back. He rested his chin on Kid's left shoulder, clearly scheming something.

Kid watched the two of them in the mirror. For once he didn't feel like he was fighting to look like a man, especially next to Razor. Not that anyone said shit to him ever since they started rolling together. Anytime some jobber even whispered that Kid looked "girly" in the locker room, they'd suspiciously have some injury and never end up on any of the shows.

Razor's rough hands began wandering around Kid's body, undoing his belt buckle as he watched the reaction of the younger man. Kid squirmed, feeling his face get hot.

"Razor…" He huffed, watching his belt being tossed aside as his dress shirt got pulled out. His coat jacket was pulled off next, laid gently on the ottoman to their side, and Kid wasn't sure if he wanted to be transfixed on the image in front of him or look away. "I can undress myself, c'mon. You know I don't like looking at myself like this."

"Kid." Razor's voice was stern, and the lack of a nickname made the slimmer man stand up a bit straighter. "You look so fucking handsome. C'mon, look." He grabbed Kid's face, turning him towards the mirror.

Kid's eyes met with his own, struggling to face the feelings stirring inside him. His eyes wandered down as Razor's deft hands undid his buttons, one at a time. Exposing skin. Before he undid the last few buttons, Razor slipped a hand in to cup his chest, calloused fingers rubbing at his nipple. Kid bit his lip, trying to stifle a moan as he looked away. Quickly, a rough hand turned his face to the mirror.

"Don't look away." It was a command.

The reflection was uncomfortable. His clothes were the only thing that made people see him as a man. Some days he didn't mind looking at himself. Hell, usually he didn't, but it wasn't like he spent time checking himself out in the mirror naked.

Kid watched his flushed face, the way he kept biting his lip, the lazy but hungry look in Razor's eyes as he fondled him. He kissed up Kid's neck, sending shivers down his spine. Wet, sloppy kisses to his ear made his knees nearly give out.

"You look so handsome, niño." He was practically purring into his ear. That low, rumbly voice was made of wet dreams.

"I look–"

Always a little dramatic, Razor pulled the dress shirt apart, fully exposing his torso. "Like a man."

The shirt was discarded as Kid looked on at himself. The way his chest curved. Razor grabbed at each pec, squeezing them, playing with him. Kid whined, leaning back against the broad chest behind him.

"Remember what I told you. If anyone tells you you ain't a man, you come to me?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I remember."

"That counts for you too. Cause you've got more machismo than half the guys we work with. This chest? This face? These hips? All a man's." With each body part, Razor put his hands there and gave a squeeze.

Kid was happy he wasn't prone to tears, because he'd be crying just about now. He knew he was a guy. A man. Not just some boy. And he knew his body was a man's body, but being around a bunch of cis guys who were bigger than he'd ever be, comfortable being nearly naked in a way he'd never be; it would give him some pause sometimes. Maybe Razor noticed. Maybe he saw how Kid had been lately and knew he needed his.

"Alright don't get a big head about." There was that smack to the back of the head to ground him. He shot Razor a nasty look, getting a slimy grin in return. "Sit."

He was gently pushed back onto the chaise chair, until he sat down on it.

Razor kneeled in front of him in a sight that Kid wished he could take a photo of. He watched as the man at his feet undid the laces on the oxfords, slipping them off his feet and placing them to the side. He lifted Kid's heel up to his mouth, kissing his ankle.

Kid wanted to squirm at the sensation. He held his breath watching Razor, who looked up at him and gave him a wink. He pulled the dress socks off before moving up, kissing at Kid's thighs through the fabric of the pants. His hands snaked up the outside of Kid's thighs until he was grabbing a handful of his ass, kneading his fingers into it.

His lips made it up to Kid's stomach, before kissing back down to his happy trail. His hands slid around to undo the fly as he looked right at Kid. Razor pulled his pants down, until they were completely off, and laid them next to where Kid sat.

The Cuban firmly pressed his lips to Kid's crotch, eliciting some small moans from him. His fingers snuck into the waist band of his boxers, pulling them down to expose Kid fully. Razor tasted how wet he was, his tongue licking through his folds and up to his clit before sucking on it.

Kid couldn't keep himself from moaning then. He panted, Razor working him up quickly. His hand found it's way to that slicked back, curly hair as he pulled Razor forward. It didn't take long for Razor to make him come, fucking him with his tongue and sucking him off like he was.

Climax overwhelming him, he tried to wriggle away from the overstimulation but strong arms kept him in place. Kid bit down on his own hand to keep himself from nearly screaming. He collapsed backwards, feeling his muscles twitching as they tried to relax, not even noticing that Razor had pulled his boxers back up.

Breathing slowly, Kid slowly sat up. He didn't know when Razor had grabbed his cigar and relit it, but he sure had.

"Gotta say of all the guys I've given head to, you're my favorite." Razor teased him, taking a puff of his cigar before blowing the smoke in Kid's face.

The smaller man frowned as he waved the smoke away. "Oh shut up."

He stared down at his legs for a moment.

"Thanks Razor."

"No problem niño." Razor ruffled his curly hair, before stepping away. "Get dressed, let's get outta here."

"Sure thing, Mr. Ramon."

#d is writing #razor ramon #123 kid #the 123 kid #wwf #wwf fic #this was probably the quickest ive written a fic to be posted in a while!#trans!123 kid

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

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(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Tuesday

Monday Wednesday�� Thursday (Part 1) Thursday (Part 2) Friday Saturday Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: anxiety, doctor’s offices, taking pain pills (not sure if I need to tag that, but just in case), stalkers, blackmail, swearing, non-consensual taking pics of nudes, slight body dysmorphia, self-loathing, toxic friends

Word count: 5,326

(A/N): another long chapter, my little wlw heart loved writing this chapter! Also holy shit I was not expecting the first part to blow up, thank you to everyone that read it! Gosh, it’s enough to make a grown woman cry :’)

You cracked open your crusty eyes to Wilbur poking his head into your room. “(Y/n), Dad wants you.”

You groaned rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out of them. “I’ll be down in a sec.” Your voice was scratchy and thick with sleep.

He closed the door silently and you heard his socked feet thumping down the hallway. Your pain faded slightly into soreness, but your shoulders and upper back were slightly stiff. After you drug yourself out of bed, you shambled down the stairs to see your family at the table eating breakfast. Your stomach growled loudly, making you blush slightly in embarrassment.

Your eldest brother snorted. “Hungry (y/n)?”

You slumped into your seat next to him slowly shoveling food into your mouth. “You have no idea.”

“You wouldn’t be that hungry if you ate dinner when you got home like I told you to do last night, young lady. You better eat every single thing on that plate.”

There was no arguing with a stern Dadza, so you reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, Tommy and Tubbo were telling Wilbur about your match animatedly.

“And the ball was like fwoosh and she- the ball and-and-”

“And she hit it and Haley hit it to the other side! It was so cool!”

Wilbur merely smiled listening to them ramble about how badass you were last night. They made you feel genuinely happy that they admired your volleyball abilities; they were probably your biggest fans and that made your day most of the time. You remembered the first match they came to during your freshman year, they had run up to you right after the end-of-match whistle blew to spew about how good you were on the court. They met the team that day. Your team adored having them at your games, over the years they slowly replaced your school’s mascot. They played a huge part in morale boosts before and during matches.

He looked over to you, “I didn’t know my little sister could be so badass.”

You felt your cheeks flare up. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. It really wasn’t anything special.”

“(Y/n),” Philza pursed his lips, “you did all that with a bruised back, I’d consider that something special.”

“Wait (y/n), you’re hurt?” Tommy and Tubbo looked at you with wide concerned eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s not that bad. I can still move and stuff.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “it’s bad if you’re going to the doctor for it.”

“Eh, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday, so I’m not worried.”

“You’re deadass wincing everytime you move your arm,” WIlbur deadpanned, “it clearly still hurts.”

“Well yeah, I didn’t say the pain went away completely. Fuckin’ dumbass.”

“Language,” Philza glared at you two, gesturing to the two fifth graders watching the exchange with interest.

You and Wilbur resumed eating and murmured out a defeated “sorry Dad.” You both glared at Techno when he huffed in amusement.

“If you three keep bickering, you’re going to be late to school. Remember, you two have to drop off Tommy and Tubbo today cuz I’m taking your sister to her appointment. Now go get ready, I’ll take care of your dishes.”

Your brothers took off up the stairs, each competing to get to the bathroom first. Occasionally, you would hear shouts and slapping noises. You felt glad you didn’t have to deal with that today. Judging by Techno’s gruff voice laughing and an explosion of loud complaints from the rest, you assumed that he won today. “I swear, they’re gonna put me in an early grave.”

“You and me both Dad, you and me both.”

You went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of pain pills from the junk drawer. Various bottles of Motrin and Advil were scattered around the house because when you live with a rambunctious family like this one, people are bound to get hurt and headaches are common. Popping three into your mouth, you washed it down with a glass of water. The sound of the running water faucet and the slight splashing of water filled the silence of the room.

“How’s your back? Does it feel any better?”

“Kinda, today it just feels more sore than throbbing, my headache went away mostly, and my shoulder doesn’t feel any worse, so that’s better I guess.”

He shut off the water and reached for a towel to dry off his wet hands. He moved over to the freezer and grabbed a frozen package of peas that your family never ate. You all used it whenever one of you would get a bruise. He moved behind you and held it against your back without warning. Flinching forward from the unexpected temperature change, you winced with the wave of pain moving brought you.

“Shit, sorry.”

“You’re good. Just give me a little warning next time,” you chuckled. He gently placed it back on your back and you sighed from the slight relief that it brought you. You leaned into the peas and closed your eyes. “That feels amazing.”

“I bet. That bruise was pretty bad yesterday, can I look at it again?”

You reluctantly left the sanctuary that was the medical grade frozen peas and leaned forward, moving your hair out of the way for him. “Knock yourself out.”

He made a hissing noise as soon as he moved your shirt out of the way. “Dad, it probably looks worse than it feels.”

“...Have you seriously not looked at this yet? It looks pretty bad, hun.”

“Well, sorry I can’t move to look at my back without being in pain. I’ll try harder next time.” You snarked him.

“Hey, watch the attitude. Here, I’ll take a picture so you can see how bad it is.”

You heard the rustling of fabric as he fished his phone out of his pocket and the obnoxiously loud click of his camera app. You turned around to look at the damage. You squinted at his bright phone screen. Your entire back was swollen in some areas and was covered in ugly reds, blues, blacks, and purples. You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and cringed away from the screen. You always got nauseous seeing injuries.

“Yikes.”

“Yikes isn’t the only word I would use, it’s bad (y/n).”

“It looks worse than it feels, I promise. I’m gonna go get ready so we’re not late to my appointment. It sounds like the boys are finally done with the bathroom.”

You hobbled up the stairs slowly and made your way to the bathroom. The door was wide open ready for you to use. Turning on the light, you closed the door in a hurry so that your brothers wouldn’t try to get in again to hog the bathroom like they usually did. You frowned at your appearance. Your hair was sticking up in every direction and you had dark eye bags around your dull looking eyes. A few pimples dotted your skin like constellations in the night sky, but much uglier and more out of place. Turning your body, you scanned your figure. Your eyes watered as you realized that you had gained some weight. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were right, you looked like garbage all the time.

You ripped your eyes away from yourself in the mirror with disgust etched deep into your features. You were disgusting through and through. Ripping your brush through your hair, you winced at the pain emanating from the back of your head. You deserve the pain for letting yourself go. Once you were slightly more satisfied with your appearance, you stepped out of the bathroom and quickly changed into the clothes you would wear today. You decided on a hoodie and a pair of tights. You didn’t feel like dressing yourself up.

You once again walked down the stairs and slipped on your shoes to meet your dad in his car. You idly scrolled through your phone while you waited for him, looking at your notifications for the first time that day. You had ten texts from the group chat that you were in with Adrian, Annie, and Sammy.

Sammy <3

(Y/n) where the hell are you?

Adrian <3

Do you guys think she ditched us?

I knew she was ignoring us

Sammy <3

Who ignores their friends?

Annie <3

(Y/n) apparently.

She has more important things to do ig

Oh my god

Do you guys think she skipped school?

Adrian <3

I wouldn’t put it past her

Maybe she finally gave up

(Y/n)

I’m sorry guys, I just have a doctor’s appointment today

I would never ignore you

Sammy <3

Yk, it’s hard to keep defending you when you keep ditching us..

(Y/n)

I’m not ditching you!

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about my appointment

I’ll make it up to you guys

Adrian <3

How?

You’ve already skipped out on us enough already

Annie <3

Oh ik!

She can write our final research paper for us Dri!

I haven’t started it yet lmao

Adrian <3

Saaaame lmaoooo

Sammy <3

Guys, what about me???

Adrian <3

Idk, figure it out yourself

Sammy <3

Rude!

Uhhh

Ur gonna put together my final presentation for us history

(Y/n)

Alright, I can do that for you guys

Sam can you pls send me the rubric?

Annie <3

Thanks love ;)

(Y/n)

No problem, I like doing things for friends

My dad’s coming, I gotta go

Talk to you guys later

Adrian <3

Byeeee (y/n), ur the best!

(Y/n)

: ) <3

You put your phone down as your dad started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was quiet as you stared out the window and thought about how much work you now had to do. On top of your own classes, you had two more to write and a presentation to make in a class you hadn’t taken since the first semester in your sophomore year. The research papers had to be at least four full pages long with a minimum of ten sources each due on Friday and you had no idea how big Sammy’s US history presentation has to be or what it’s even about. But that was fine, you’d do anything for your friends.

“So, who were you texting? Your boyfriend?” He asked jokingly.

“Oh, just Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. I don’t have a boyfriend Dad,” because you were a closeted lesbian, but you wouldn’t tell him that anytime soon. “You know that.”

“I know,” he chuckled, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen them. How have they been?”

“They’re good. Adrian got a job at the diner, he’s a host. Sammy and Annie have been focusing more on raising their grades.”

“Good for them! You should invite them over for dinner sometime.”

“I was actually thinking that I could maybe go hang out with them on Halloween...?”

“(Y/n), the family was going to take Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating.”

“I know, but there’s always next year. Plus, we haven’t been able to hang out in so long! We’re always free at different times.”

“I don’t know (y/n), what if they don’t want to trick-or-treat next year? What were you planning on doing with them?”

“We were just gonna hang out at Annie’s house and watch some horror movies,” you lied. He would never let you go if he knew you were going to a party. Especially one where alcohol would be involved and hormonal teenage boys ran rampant actively scouting for an easy lay.

“...I’ll think about it.” The car pulled into the doctor office’s parking lot.

“Thank you Dad! It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out together.”

He chuckled as you both walked into the lobby, checked in, and waited for your name to be called. About ten minutes later, you were summoned by a nurse so you went into the back leaving your dad to wait in the lobby. The nurse recorded your height and weight (much to your dismay, you gained four pounds) and asked you the standard questions about your injury and uncomfortable questions about your overall health. The clacking of her acrylic nails on the plastic keyboard filled the awkward silence.

Once that was done, she left and you had to wait a little bit for the doctor. After slipping into the backless gown the nurse left, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Jumping when someone knocked on the door, you looked up to see your family’s doctor smiling at you.

“Hello (y/n), how are we feeling today?”

“I’m alright.”

“I hear that you had quite the fall onto some concrete, is that true?”

“Yes, I landed on my back and the back of my head.”

She reached over and squirted hand sanitizer onto her hands, rubbing it in and looking back at you. “Can you please lay on your stomach so I can take a look at your back?”

You nodded, shifting on the uncomfortable paper covered cushioned table onto your stomach. You felt her cold hands gently graze your bruises before she pulled out her stethoscope. “Can you take a good deep breath in for me?”

You complied and she instructed you to let it out. Doing this multiple times along your back, she put her stethoscope away and continued prodding at your exposed back.

“There’s definitely some swelling in multiple areas… It doesn’t feel or sound like you cracked or broke any ribs, which is excellent… Do you have any pain deep in your shoulder when you move it?”

“Yes, I landed on it wrong last night at my volleyball match.”

“How would you describe your pain? Stabbing, sore, throbbing…”

“More sore, but a little stabbing pain when I move my arm.”

She moved her fingers to examine your shoulder. “It doesn’t sound like a sprain or fracture, can you move it up and down for me?”

You moved your arm up and down, front and back, and side to side. “You still have a full range of movement, that’s good. Can I have you sit back up again?”

You sat back up and she started testing you for a concussion. After passing her tests, you were cleared of having a concussion. “Alright (y/n), it appears that you only strained your deltoid and teres muscles and you have severe bruising along your back. Make sure you ice your back and, if you have one, wear a shoulder compression sleeve. Anti-inflammatory medications such as Ibuprofen will help with the swelling. Other than that, you have a clean bill of health! You can still participate in volleyball practices, but you need to take it easy. Don’t do anything that will strain the muscles any further.”

“Thank you Dr. Samson,” you smiled at her.

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to change back into your clothes and you’re free to go! You may leave the gown on the table.”

She left the room and you redressed yourself. Walking out to the lobby, Philza’s head perked up when he heard the door opening. He stood up and walked over to you with a slightly worried face. You both walked back out to the car.

“So?”

“Dr. Samson said that I don’t have a concussion, sprains or broken bones. She told me that I just strained my shoulder muscles and I need to keep ice on my back.”

He visibly slumped in relief. “Thank god. What’d she say about volleyball?”

“She said that I could keep playing, but I have to take it easy.”

“Good, wouldn’t want you missing finals on Thursday. Do you know if the team you’re playing is any good?”

“Dad, of course they’re good, we’re the top two teams in the area.”

“I bet their setter is nowhere near as good as you are and I bet the setter and spiker aren’t as synced as you and Haley are. You two make a good pair.”

“Yeah we do, don’t we?” You looked out the window and smiled a little and felt your ears turn red. The very mention of Haley’s name was enough to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. The car fell silent again as you neared your high school.

In your AP world history class, the class was looking at the test you had taken yesterday. Surprisingly, you got a 74% on the multiple choice part and a 50% on your essay portion, so that landed you with a just below passing grade. You thought you completely flunked that test yesterday, so that was a pleasant surprise. It took a good portion out of your overall grade in the class, lowering it from a comfortable A- to a slightly alarming B. You supposed it could’ve been a lot worse. Besides reviewing your tests, the class didn’t do much except starting the reading for the next chapter.

Your psychology online class went like it usually did, however your phone blew up with texts about midway through the block. Glancing down, you saw that it was Haley. Shouldn’t she be in class?

Hales : )

(Y/n) meet me in the locker room right after school

I need to talk to you before practice starts

It’s an emergency

(Y/n)

What’s going on?

Hales : )

I’ll explain after school.

Can’t talk about it over text

(Y/n)

Alright, see ya then ig

You felt your gut twinge. Something’s wrong, but you didn’t know what. You were worried about Haley, usually she was really bubbly. You’ve never seen the senior act so strange before. You could only wait the block out until the bell would release you from the confines of the library and into the locker room. After sending a quick text to your brothers that you were going to stay after school for your practice, you stared blankly at your laptop’s clock as you counted down the minutes left in the class period. Ten minutes. Eight minutes. Four minutes. Two minutes. Thirty seconds-

You shot up from your seat as the bell rang. Pushing past some groups of freshmen that congregated in the hallways, you made a beeline for the locker room. In the locker room, you found Haley sitting on the metal bench on the opposite end of the locker room with her back facing the last row of lockers and facing the brick wall. She was clenching her phone in her hand with an iron grip. You hurried to sit next to her.

“Hales, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s bad (y/n). Like, really bad.”

“What’s bad? You’re worrying me.”

Wordlessly, she unlocked her phone and handed it to you. On the screen was something that you weren’t expecting to see. You scrolled through the contents and felt your stomach drop with each scroll; someone took pictures of you and Haley throughout the match last night. Every picture was a violation to yours and Haley’s dignities, they had gotten zoomed in pictures of your boobs and asses. Deeper, there were even pictures taken of you changing into your volleyball uniform through your open window. You were only in your underwear. Haley had a similar picture that you scrolled past as fast as you could. Scrolling to the bottom of the text message thread, the person that sent Haley the pictures added a caption to the last picture. It was a picture of you and Haley together celebrating your match, her arm slung around your shoulder with your mouth open mid-laugh.

Unknown

I’m sending these out to the entire school unless you stop hanging around her.

If you tell anyone, the pics will be printed off and put in every single locker and bathroom the school has.

You’ll be the sluts of Klinkver High.

Cut all ties now. You have two days.

Do not try me.

“Jesus christ Haley. Who the fuck would do this? This is sick.”

She took her phone back and locked it without looking at the screen. “I don’t know (y/n). I wanted to tell you not to openly talk to me for a few days. We don’t know who took these, we don’t know what they’re capable of. I don’t wanna risk angering them.”

“We can find them! If we look close enough, we might find a few clues where they were sitting. Do you remember seeing anything suspicious last night?”

“(Y/n), our best option is to leave it. We just can’t talk in person anymore; we can still text each other.”

“Hales, how are we gonna not talk? I’m your setter.”

She ran a hand through her thick black hair. “I don’t know (y/n). Just-just don’t talk to me anymore, I don’t want your pictures leaked.”

“I don’t care about my pictures. My name’s been drug through so much shit this past year that it won’t affect me. I don’t want your stuff leaked.”

She gave a watery laugh, “you care too much, I love that about you…” Glistening eyes turned to look deep into your own. “I’m so scared (y/n), I don’t know what to do.”

You pulled her into a hug, wincing slightly when she squeezed her arms around your upper back. She buried her face into your shoulder and started shaking with muffled sobs. “Haley, I promise I’ll catch whatever sick bastard is doing this to you. You don’t deserve this.”

She said nothing as you rested your chin on the top of her head and started to rock her back and forth slowly. You two stayed like that even after her sobbing resided, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Glancing at the clock, you realized that you two have been in the locker room for an hour. Practice was set to start in fifteen minutes, people were going to start coming into the locker room soon.

You reluctantly pulled away from the hug and looked Haley in her bloodshot eyes, “I’m not going to let those pictures of you get leaked. I swear on my-”

The door to the locker room swung open and loud laughter echoed throughout the room. Haley pushed you away and speed walked off to a bathroom stall, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Damn (y/n), what’d you do? She’s pissed.”

“It’s none of your business, Zara.”

“Oh, so it’s a lover’s quarrel then~” She cackled, her hair bouncing slightly with each heave of her shoulders.

“For the love of… Haley and I aren’t dating, we’re both straight.” She’s straight.

“Mmhm.” She brushed past you to go to her locker. You followed her, your locker was in the grouping next to hers. You shared the area with Haley. You changed as fast as you could so that Haley would have time to change before practice starts. Speed walking into the gym, Zara was hot on your trail wearing a shit eating grin.

“Why are you in such a rush? Giving your girlfriend the silent treatment?”

“Zara. We aren’t dating. For the last time, we’re both heterosexual, not homosexual!” You wildly gestured with your hands to emphasize your point, your voice being amplified by the vast gym. Coach Williams gave you a confused look from across the gym.

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious.”

“Hi serious,” a soft voice replied from behind you, “I’m Jazzy.”

You groaned at the pun at the same time Zara started cackling, giving the short libero a high five. “Nice!”

“That was so bad, Jaz.” You couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto your face.

Zara poked your cheek with a wide grin. “C’mon, you’re smiling!”

“I am and I hate it.”

Your bickering continued with Jazzy watching you two with a content smile. The remaining members of the team (Haley, Marlene, and Zuri) filed into the gym right as Coach Williams blew her whistle.

Practice went by slowly without Haley talking to you. Sure, you had the rest of the team, but it didn’t feel the same with you guys ignoring each other. If the team or Coach Williams noticed you two not talking to each other, they didn’t say anything. By time practice was over, you all went to the locker room to change. After slipping into your fuzzy pajama pants, you sat on the bench and texted Wilbur to come pick you up. He was supposed to pick you up after practice today because he and Techno took the car home after school. Five minutes passed and he still didn’t reply. He probably won’t see the text until you got home from walking.

You sighed, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned forward. One by one, the girls left the locker room until it was only you and Haley left.

“Do you need a ride (y/n)?” She asked gently.

“But what if the person sees us together? I can just walk home, it’s not really a big deal.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “It is a big deal. It’s cold and dark out. You could get kidnapped or something. You don’t even have a coat with you. I’m giving you a ride whether you like it or not.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and stood up to walk next to her, “okay, mom.”

“Don’t give me that attitude young lady.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real mom!”

She gasped and lightly smacked the back of your shoulder, “I married your- are you alright? Shit, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, you’re good. It’s just this damned bruise.”

She moved her hands and frantically turned you around to pull the neck of your shirt down. You two stood in front of the school’s main entrance with the nauseatingly bright fluorescent light bouncing off the reflective surface of the tiles. The orange tinted street lights lit up the sidewalk outside.

“(Y/n)-”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

She scoffed, “oh really? What am I gonna say then, o wise one?”

You turned around to face her, “‘oh, this is bad, yadda yadda yadda.’ Everyone’s been saying that about it. Honestly it looks worse than it feels. Tis but a scratch, m’lady.”

She snorted and covered her mouth, “never call me ‘m’lady’ ever again.”

You started to walk to her car in the empty parking lot. “Or what? What’re ya gonna do?”

“I swear to god, (y/n), I’m gonna leave you here.”

“Do it, pussy. Bet you won’t.”

“You really wanna bet?”

You grinned at her, “hell yeah.”

She broke off into a mad dash to her car, laughing freely into the night sky. You chased after her trying not to move your arms much, your laugh mixing with hers like a perfect symphony composed of the world’s best musicians. The sound of your rubber soles slapping the pavement resonated throughout the parking lot as you quickly gained on her. Reaching out to grab her shirt, she smirked at you and sharply turned to the right into the grass.

You grinned as her pace slowed down slightly. You’d be able to catch her at this pace. You pushed your legs to move faster as she looked at you from over her shoulder and shrieked in surprise at how close you were to her. You cackled at her reaction, reaching out once again, you grabbed her hand. She was stopped dead in her tracks as your shoulder was yanked with the sudden momentum, making you hiss in slight pain. Despite that, you didn’t let go of her soft hand.

You both stood there under the moonlight and the soft orange street lamps trying to catch your breath. The slightly damp blades of grass tickled your ankle as you shifted to face her better. Through gasping breaths and a dopey grin, you said “you… lost, pussy.”

She let out a breathy laugh as she pulled you to her car. “Shuddup.”

“Make me~”

She opened the passenger side door for you and got into the driver's seat. Her car smelled like vanilla and citrus. “Oh, you will later when I make you do more sets in weight lifting tomorrow, hurt shoulder be damned.”

She turned on the ignition and the car revved to life, soft indie pop wafted from the speakers. She backed out of the parking space and sped off to the main road. “You wouldn’t…”

“I’m your captain, (y/n). I can make you do whatever I want.” You felt your cheeks heat up a tad. You were happy that she couldn’t see you.

“Naw, you’re too much of a softie for that. Admit it, I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”

She chuckled as she pulled into your driveway and put the car in park. “...Alright, maybe you do. Just a bit.”

She turned to look at you. She looked stunning with the shadows accentuating the contours of her face perfectly. You found yourself glancing at her lips and leaning slightly towards you. To your surprise, she started leaning into you as well. Before your lips could finally mesh together, she pulled back with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. You felt a rush of disappointment and fear course through your veins. She didn’t like you like that, you should’ve known better. You were so stupid. So, so stu-

“I can’t (y/n). I want to kiss you so bad, but we can’t. Not yet at least. Not until we find the pervert that took those pictures of us.”

You sighed, “right.”

The car was filled with awkward silence. Not even the soft music streaming from the speakers could alleviate the awkwardness. God, you really screwed up your friendship, didn’t you? Sammy, Adrian, and Annie were right; you messed up everything you touched.

You coughed, “I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah…”

You grabbed your bag and walked into your house, the smell of chicken slapping you in the face instantly. Without checking in with your dad, you hurried up the stairs, desperate for the warm comfort of your bed. That, and if you wanted to get Sammy’s presentation and Adrian’s, Annie’s, and your research papers done by Friday, you had to start as soon as you could. You were going to skip dinner for tonight, you’d just grab more breakfast tomorrow morning.

You plopped on your bed and got started on your research paper. Luckily, you already had all of the sources you were planning on using and the rough outline of each body paragraph, so writing the actual paper wasn’t going to take long. You worked until you heard a knock at your door.

“(Y/n),” Techno’s monotone voice called out, “dinner’s ready.”

“Tell Dad I’m not hungry. Practice’s got me beat, I’m going to bed soon.”

He grunted, “you know he’s not gonna like that right?”

You felt frustration start to swim circles around your chest, “Techno, just tell him that I’m not hungry right now. Please.”

“Damn, you don’t need to be like that. I’ll tell him.”

You heard his stomping footsteps thumping down the hall. Shit, you pissed him off. You were a terrible person, he was just trying to get you to eat something, Pushing back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, you forced the panic that was starting to swirl around your body in laps deep into your being. You didn’t have time to deal with your failures and stupid emotions, you had to get this done. You didn’t have time to think about Haley’s warm breath ghosting across your lips. You didn’t have time to think about how she probably regretted almost kissing you. You didn’t have time to fall into an anxiety spiral, you needed to focus if you wanted Adrian, Annie, and Sammy to forgive you. You ruined yours and Haley’s friendship and did the same to yours and Techno’s. They were the only ones you had left. You needed to be a better friend.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added or if I missed you, it won’t let me tag some tumblrs :((( ):

@immadatmostthings @thaticecreambish @hee-hee-haw @dearnataliealoveletter @wasteofspacze @dcml04 @bbigbbrainn @dirtydiavolo @vanhakirja @rinzyx05 @misselsbells06 @ialexabsuniverse @im-a-depressed-gay @energy-drinkk @mothra-main @i-need-hugs @dragons-lurk-here @katj733 @m4r-s @vievi @dykeragee @waterstrawberry @aplaintart @kakamiissad @myunfinishedsymphony @nagitokinnieissad @autumnpleaves @justanothergirlwithdemons @zachariethememerie @moon-asia @m0on-blue @strawberrysodababy @akikko-yataro @haikkeiji @shiningsunrises @cinnamonmochi @queen-turtle-boiii @imanewsoul @sparkling-gayyyy @angelicaschuyler-church @vixenfoxpup @ella-ivanov @shio-yuki @mosstea-png @ijustshatbricks

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nextdoorharry · 3 years ago

Text

imaaaaagine a world like that..can you?

in which you and harry are exes, but still remain good friends when you’re always there for each other. both of you can’t help but reminisce…in your head.

a/n: super sorry i haven’t written in FOREVER!! been crazy busy with school (still am) and i will get back to the writing grind when i’m not as busy, with that being said this is just a quick thing i was thinking of. also, no hate to olivia and harry’s relationship at all. pr or not, both deserve respect and anything written in this piece is solely for writing purposes only. no hate will be tolerated toward an individual. we’re all human.

it happened when you were on your way home from dinner with your friends. a call from harry. this wasn’t out of the ordinary for harry to call you, being exes and all. you both apologized after the breakup and agreed that you both couldn’t let 5 years of love, being close with each other’s families, and a pet cat all go to waste. you agreed upon being friends with him. still hang out here and there after the breakup, acting all platonic. you can’t help but have a glimmer of hope its a call wanting to start a relationship again.

“hello?” you said, one hand on the wheel, other holding your phone.

“hi love, sorry s’a bit late, was wondering if i can come over. it’s about olivia.” harry says. still sending you butterflies when he said the simple yet warming term of endearment. but once he said olivia, your heart dropped.

she’s beautiful, confident, and makes your harry happy from what the tabloids portray. the last time you and harry spoke was before he went off to LA, filming for don’t worry darling, a movie his new lover produced. still a few texts since then like “happy birthday!” “congrats on the grammy,” or “how’s the cat?” you two always saved catching up for in person. it was just your thing you kept during the 5 year relationship and after. it keeps things more meaningful at the time, rather than texting or quick phone calls.

“ah, olivia. isn’t she my replacement?” you teased while laughing. you hear a burst of giggles from the other end of the line. god you missed hearing that everyday.

harry on the other end of the line, heart aches a bit hearing you say that. no one could ever replace you. ever. you are so special to him. if only it wasn’t for his team making it difficult for him to ease down on touring for a bit for you. you asked for one thing from harry, which was to start settling down. you both were only getting older and the talks of marriage and kids were frequently becoming the topic of discussion with family. a year and some after the breakup, which happened to be during quarantine, where he had so much time on his hands without you, he reflected on what could’ve been and how stupid he was for letting you go. you were always so patient with him. going to his shows, god awful dinner parties with industry people, changing your work schedule just to fit into his. you asked for one thing. and instead of fighting for you with his team, he instead sided with them, and let you go.

teasing not dying down, harry goes, “someone keeps up with me in the tabloids, eh?”

it’s the fact that he’s not wrong. you remember that tabloid very well. when the first pictures of harry and olivia came out in an article titled, “harry styles and olivia wilde new romance? is y/n replaced?”

your heart was hurting.

“of course i am. keep having to make sure my name is finally out their mouths.” you joke. “i’ll be home in about 15 minutes if that’s okay?”

you pull into the driveway already seeing harry sitting on your porch chair. he waves at you and you get out of the car, walking up to him. he stands up and greets you with a bear hug.

“missed you, y’look nice. where’d ya head out to?” he asked, hoping and praying you weren’t out on a date looking like that. he knows you only wear a red lip when its date night. his mind filled with jealousy at the thought of you with someone else. whereas he has no right being there are pictures of him kissing, cuddling, and whispering to olivia on a yacht in italy. all for the cameras. his stomach turns. that was supposed to be you and him. on a yacht on italy. except leaving the display of affection for the bedroom.

“on a date” you say blatantly.

his heart drops. and lets you go from the hug. lying through his teeth he says, “ah really? happy for ya, you have to tell me about it, hope it was with a good bloke.” he says lightly.

“i’m kiddingg, was out for dinner with friends. mel got engaged by the way! was celebratory dinner for her.” you say, unlocking the door, letting harry in.

harry sighs in relief. “that’s good! m’happy for her, pass on my congratulations.” harry follows you into your kitchen, sitting down on the counter stool, watching you making his favorite “calm down” drink, loving that you remembered how he likes it. he didn’t even have to ask you to make it. you just know its what he needs right now. he can’t help but ponder that it should have been you. it should be your friends out for your celebratory dinner for your engagement with him.

you pass him his tea, knowing he’ll only take a few sips of it yet keep it in his hold for warmth. you were on the other side of the counter across from him, making a mini cheeseboard you two can snack on while talking.

“so..what happened?” you ask, heart not ready if you can handle what he’s about to say about his new lover.

“s’just so complicated. originally it was supposed to be a pr stunt for the movie. but now i don’t know how the pr team messed up so badly but they did. no one is really believing it. everything was executed poorly. it sucks because it’s her team conducting everything which means i barely have a say in it. i look like the bad guy being portrayed as a home wrecker, and she’s not doing anything about it! s’like she’s enjoying it. the kissing, the night outs, etc. she knows that if my team did have a say, it would have been over a while ago.” he breathes out. he’s been wanting to rant to someone for so long about this. he also just wants you to know that he’s not into her. it’s all for show. he’s still all about you. he wants to make that crystal clear.

you nod your head listening to everything he’s saying. body feeling uneasy filled with jealousy when harry says she’s enjoying the intimacy they have to do for show.

“well, did you talk to her about it? or talk to jeff at least? there has to be something he can do..?” you ask.

harry sighs, “i’ve tried so hard. jeff said nothing they can do about it. and he’s telling me not to mess with olivia because her team can do more damage than good with my name. not that s’already ruined.” harry rubs his face with his hands, feeling stressed.

the way he’s acting is familiar to you. early on in your relationship, when you two were a freshly new couple, you guys wanted to be completely private. during that time, with harry and the band’s album coming out, his management made him do pr stunts like these. he was as stressed as he is now. you were so new to dating something in an industry. he didn’t want to scare you away. but you understood. you get it. and you still get it as he’s speaking.

“hmm..if i can recall, back when you had to do a stunt with kendall on the yacht, m’pretty sure it was the same situation. with kendall’s team being difficult, your’s not having much of a say. do what i told you back then, stand your ground, harry. tell olivia like you did with kendall. also kendall’s team at the time played dirty, yet they still were understanding with you and got someone new for a stunt. olivia’s team will probably get someone new as well. and how badly can they ruin your rep? everyone knows you’re the nicest person who wouldn’t kill a fly. and tabloids are tabloids. would you rather have a few bad headlines about you or would you rather deal with a stunt for what? another year now? that you feel uncomfortable with?” you state. smiling a bit because you know harry knows your right, he’s smiling a bit too. he knows you love being right and debating, pulling out facts. that’s what you always did during an argument. which is why you were always right.

man. why couldn’t he stand his ground with his team. why didn’t he take your advice back then? he should’ve sided with you. not his team. why is he always so scared of them?

self-loathing, harry breathes out a laugh, “always have to be right don’t ya? you know what to say every damn time,”

“what can i say? the lady is always right.” you say, smiling proudly while cleaning up the remains of the cheeseboard you and harry snacked on.

“thanks y/n, really, i know i can always come to you with this stuff,” harry states. looking at you with his piercing eyes, meaning every word he said.

you smiled and nodded, cleaning the kitchen a bit. it started to pour early on when you guys were having a chat about his situation, hoping silently it would come down faster so harry has an excuse to stay, you offer nonetheless. “why don’t you stay back for a bit, hm? s’pouring out there, only gonna get worse. we can watch something?”

“love island?” harry suggests.

“thought you’d never ask.”

few gasps and scoffs at some of the islanders and their drama later, you slowly were drifted off to sleep. harry, sitting on the other sofa from you, peaks to see if you’re still watching. his face was in awe. he misses this. domestic nights with you, chatting away eating in the kitchen, then watching something afterwards. only difference is that you two are on different sofas. whereas before you’d be coddled under his embrace. he slowly drifts off to sleep as well. rain still going on, technically he can still go home. driving in the rain was never an issue for him. but he’ll always use an excuse just to be with you.

iMessage: Olivia Wilde

1:34 AM - I miss you, and our casual hookups. Can’t stop thinking about it.

that was one part harry left out of the story. he hooked up with her.

ahhhhh!!!! lmk if you guys want a part 2!!!

#harry styles #harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry talk #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry concept #harry styles fic

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matbaerzal · 4 years ago

Text

Like This Pt.1 | T. Jost

Summary: Tyson is the best roommate you could ask for, you can't imagine ever living with someone else... no- no not like that, your relationship is purely platonic! > (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) A/N: First fic of the year hafsjkhf.... The reader studies Special Education, which will play a small part throughout this fic. Warnings: A short mention of sexual dreams Reader pronouns: she/her Words: 2,4K Tagging: @konecny-s @vitekvanecek @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 @ricohenrique @notaccurateornice @tysojost @justjosty ... lmk if you want to be tagged ❤️

As you reach the door to your apartment you shift your second grocery bag into your left hand before fishing your keys out of your pocket. You hurry to turn the key in your lock as your arms are tired from the heavy weight of the amount of food you’d bought. You huff out as you open the door, absent-mindedly throwing the keys on the side table as you set the groceries down on the floor.

“I’m sorry, can you give me a minute?” you hear Tyson speak as you take off your coat and shoes. In the corner of your eye, you see him put his phone down before pushing his chair back, standing up, and walking over.

“Hey, how was work?”

You huff out a breath in reply, and when you see him grab the groceries you almost try to object, but relief washes over you before you can. You follow him to the kitchen with the intent to sort the food so he can get back to what he was doing, but he brushes you away.

“Go sit down - relax” he gives you a pointed look.

“Thanks” you smile, hesitantly making your way to the couch.

“You hungry?” he speaks over his shoulder as you sit down.

“Very” your stomach grumbles as if on cue.

“I made some dinner earlier, want me to heat it up for you?”

“Don’t you have an interview” you shout back.

“Eh, they can wait” he shrugs

Without waiting for you to reply he takes out the tupperware from the fridge before putting it in the microwave. Once it’s heated up he brings it over to you, along with a glass of water before he gets back to his interview, apologizing profusely to the journalist on the other end of the call for keeping them waiting.

Living with Tyson had its ups and downs, but all in all the two of you fit together well as roommates. You’d met him during his first year in Colorado, back then you were living on campus. You’d planned to move in with a friend of yours, but after she graduated she got a job offer in another state and decided to move, leaving you practically homeless as there was no way you’d be able to afford to live on your own at the time - and there was no chance that you were ever moving in with your dorm room roommate again. Tyson offered for you to stay with him for at least a little bit until you figured things out. Then he realized he really liked having you around. You’d hesitated, thinking he was just trying to be nice, before he practically begged you to stay.

Hundreds of comments from friends asking if you’re dating or having sex later, you’re still living with him - not dating, not having sex, never even having kissed, and neither of you wanted to cross that line. With the way you and Tyson clicked, there were a lot of people who had trouble believing you were just friends, but at this point, you felt like you knew each other too well. All your dirty laundry had been aired out between the two of you - both literally and figuratively. The smell of his week-old workout sweat in the laundry room was enough to put you off. It wouldn’t be fair to say it hadn’t crossed your mind though. Objectively he is very attractive - you can’t deny that - perhaps, maybe your mind traveled places as he walked out of the bathroom after a shower with only a towel wrapped around him. You knew for a fact that he’d thought about you too, having drunkenly admitted to you that he had a dream about you once - which explained that one morning where he wouldn’t meet your eye and couldn’t have gotten out of the door quicker.

But neither of you ever acted on your attraction, it was pushed into the back of your minds - ignored completely. Because that’s all it was, an attraction, and nothing more.

You watch him as he continues his interview, zoning out as you eat your food. You hear every tone of his voice, completely focused on him but at the same time not registering a single thing he’s saying. It’s only when he looks over at you that you’re shaken out of it.

“Is it alright?” he whispers, covering the microphone.

You shake your head as you're brought back to the real world, it takes your brain a few seconds to catch what he said and your cheeks feel warm as he chuckles - “Hm?”

“The food? Is it alright?”

“Mm, yeah” you take another bite, resting the fork in the food container as you reach for the TV remote to distract yourself.

You’d been swamped with work lately, between your studies and your part-time job as a teaching assistant, you barely had time to take a breather. Your third year studying Special Education at the University of Denver was hectic, any time not spent at work or on campus or studying at home was spent either eating or sleeping in your bed. Tyson could see how tired you were whenever you came home, he always cooked a little extra for his dinner so you wouldn’t go to bed without eating first. His mediocre pasta meals always tasted like heaven after the long days you had.

By the time Tyson plops down on the couch you’re finished eating and zoned out on an episode of New Girl.

“Do you have any plans on Sunday?” he asks and you shake your head - “just studying, writing”.

“Wanna come to the game? I completely get it if you just want to stay in-”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to” you perk up, you hadn’t been to a game in who knows how long and you’d put aside your assignments at least for a little while if Tyson ever asked you to. He never had to ask before, you’d come whenever you had time, but it’d been seven weeks now - Tyson kept count.

“You sure?”

“Yes, Tys, really” you pat his thigh - keeping your hand there a touch longer before removing it when you meet his soft eyes.

You wake up late on Sunday, head stuck to the pillow, body hesitant to leave the bed. You’d already woken up once and decided to sleep longer so you force yourself out of bed, put some clothes on and go to the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal. Just as you get the milk from the fridge your apartment door opens, signaling that Tyson’s home from his morning skate.

“Good morning” he smirks at you, his eyes running over your thrown-together outfit and noting the remnant of sleep in your eyes.

You nod, trying to speak through the mouthful you just took, making Tyson squint his eyes in a laugh. He waits patiently for you to finish so you can repeat your question to him - “how was the skate?”

“It was alright, easily gonna have a nap after I eat though”

“Want some cereal?” you arch your brow. He stops and thinks for a second, contemplating if he should say yes, or make his usual scrambled eggs - “you know what? Yeah” he decides. You raise your brows at him, about to make a comment but he interrupts you. “Yeah, yeah pour me a bowl before I change my mind”.

You hold your hands up - “wasn’t gonna say anything” you try, but he doesn’t look convinced. You rush to get him a bowl and a spoon, setting them down for him, pouring in some cereal as he comes over to sit next to you on your kitchen island. He pours the milk himself before lifting the bowl to clink against yours, muttering “cheers” before taking a spoonful into his mouth.

You sit in comfortable silence as you eat your food, moving around each other as you put the bowls in the sink to worry about later. You walk to the couch and open your laptop to get some work done before you have to get ready for the game.

“Do you ever take a break?” Tyson yawns, laying down on the couch next to you, his head landing on a pillow close by your thighs.

You figure his questions rhetorical, but his eyes stay on you as you start typing away on your essay. “I’m taking a break later, y’know, at the game”

“No, I mean like a real break, like flat out on the couch, books closed-”

“You’re funny”

“I’m serious”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have time for breaks Tys”

He goes quiet after that, a thoughtful look on his face as he settles into the couch, your eyes linger on him for a moment before you go back to writing your essay. It doesn’t take long for his breath to get heavy, the small snores escaping him making you smile. As you skim through an article you might use for your essay your free hand finds his hair - his curls too soft to resist running your hand through. His snoring stops as your hand first makes contact making you freeze, but he’s nuzzling into the pillow and snoring again before you know it.

Even after you’ve read the article your hand stays in his hair and you do your best to type with one hand, only opting to use your right hand when absolutely necessary. You were in tweaking stages so luckily you could keep one hand planted in his hair most of the time. You’re checking the clock here and there, knowing he didn’t set an alarm and that he didn’t like napping too long on game days, but just as you’re about to wake him he leans into your touch, eyes slowly blinking open as he hums, absentmindedly you brush his hair away from his forehead - “sleep well?”

“Like a baby” he smiles, “what time is it?”

“uh, two-thirty” you glance over at the little clock on your computer.

He leans into your hand one more time as if to savor the feel before he starts to get up, once on his feet he stretches his arms above his head, you can’t help but look as his t-shirt lifts to reveal his stomach, but you avert your eyes quickly and hope he doesn’t notice. If he did, he doesn’t comment, “want me to make dinner for you too?” he throws the words your way over his shoulder as he makes his way to the kitchen. “What’s on the menu?” you tease, fully well knowing the answer, even saying it with him once he replies - “chicken and pasta”.

You turn your head to look at him, and he can’t bring himself to be annoyed at you when you smirk at him.

“Yeah, yeah” he brushes you off - “do you want some or no?”

“Yes, please” you smile.

He quickly makes the food, the recipe burned into his brain from making it time after time. He puts a little extra cheese on your plate, coming over to the couch with both plates once he’s done. You close your computer, place it to the side, and take the plate he hands to you with ease. Once your plates are scraped it’s time for Tyson to get ready, change into his suit and leave for the arena.

He walks out of his room wearing one of his three-piece suits and if you didn’t have the restraint you’d built up over the time you’d lived with him you’re sure you would’ve drooled at the sight. You’d think he was doing it on purpose, but you’d never let your weakness for the vest-jacket pairing slip, and he looks oblivious as he meets your eyes. The little spin he does for you does nothing to help and you have to give yourself credit for being so collected when he raises his brows as if to ask: “Is this alright?”.

“Looking good, Tys. I’ll see you after the game” you get off the couch as you speak and give him a quick hug, his phone pinging with a message signaling that JT is waiting for him downstairs as you break away.

“See you later,” he says.

“Kick some Dallas butt.”

He laughs as he walks through the door leaving you to yourself. You don’t wait long until you start getting ready yourself, not being able to focus on your writing with the anticipation of the game in the back of your mind. You put your lucky Avalance hoodie on, grabbing your coat before leaving with more than enough time to catch the warm-ups. There’s a couple of familiar faces there when you arrive. You’d met the players’ girlfriends a few times, mostly in this exact setting and you fell right back into the group again. You felt for them, having to watch their boyfriends play such an unpredictable sport. You guess you could imagine how it felt at least a little, living with Tyson and all, but the energy they brought to every game was admirable.

The game was tight, the boys fell behind in the first period but in the second and third they were no doubt the better team, but the puck just wouldn’t go in the net. With ten minutes left they manage to tie it and with 5 minutes left Tyson takes a tripping penalty. They killed the penalty and scored not long after to secure the win, but you could see Tyson beating himself up over the penalty that could’ve cost them the game. The look on his face as he sat in the penalty box is something you keep in the back of your mind as you leave with the girls to meet him.

He’s one of the first ones to come out of the locker rooms, head hanging low. Gabe pats him on the shoulder before he greets his wife, Tyson throws a forced smile towards his captain that seems genuine to anyone that doesn’t know him the way you do. The smile reaches his eyes once he sees you though and he drapes his arm over your shoulder when he reaches you, leading you towards the garage - “Let’s go home”

To be continued...

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #nhl imagine #op:w #nhl fic

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chaeiimimi · 4 years ago

Note

HEY BUBS! I HOPE YOU’RE DOING GREAT, PART TWO WAS SUCH A BOMB AS WELL ALDJAKDJA I’M LOWKEY GETTING BABY FEVER ALREADY AT THIS POINT LMAO JK AKSJAKS IF YOU HAVE TIME, I’D LIKE TO REQUEST OSAMU / SUNA / OIKAWA / AKAASHI ALDHAKS ANY OF THEM WOULD BE FINE UWU 😫

HEY BUBS I’M SO SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY BFIWBFIWBF MY LIFE’S BEEN PRETTY CRAPPY LATELY, I’M GLAD YOU LIKED THE SECOD PART AAAAA STAY HAPPY AND HEALTHY BUBS ILY <3

Haikyuu Boys and a Single Mom Pt. 3

Featuring: Suna, Bokuto, Kenma

Suna Rintaro

despite being a professional volleyball player, Suna was still a university student, he evenly splits up his days to go to volleyball practice and university

he was always dreading to go to university, but he knew he needed it, and you, being his seating beside you in three classes, made university bearable

you had this amazing aura, always so gentle, and kind, you had a soft smile plastered on your face almost like a motherly smile, your voice was always calm and soft, you were just so breath-taking to look at

although you two never talked that much, Suna already knew a lot of little details about you, he once drove pass you walking to the kindergarten just one street away from your university, he knew that you carry a container of fruits in your bag, you always left as soon as classes for the day was over, and that was only a few among a hundred of little things about you

Suna admired you from afar, as much as he likes you so much it physically hurts him, love just wasn't his priority, his priority was volleyball and his career

or at least he thought

life surely has a great sense of humor because somehow you guys ended up being partners for a thesis paper

"I look forward to working with you Suna" you smiled

"likewise" he says with his usual blank face

Suna didn't want to admit it, but he was excited

"so, where do we work on this?" he asks looking at the notes he took for that class

"well, we can work on it at my place" you say casually while also looking at your notes

"are you sure it's okay?" he asks again to make sure, this girl, the person he's been crushing on for his two years in university is now inviting him to her place

"yeah, i can't really spend a lot of time outside, my son hates it"

and just like that Suna was having a mini heart attack, you were married? you have a son? what-

“hey, you alright?” you asked worriedly

Suna quickly composed himself

“uhh y-yeah, won’t your husband get angry?” he asks

“oh don’t worry I raise Kiro by myself” you smiled

Suna looked at you strangely, unable to keep up

you chuckled at his dazed look “I’m a single mother”

Suna almost breathed out a sigh of relief, thankfully he was able to stop himself or else you would get the wrong idea

“yeah, yeah sure, let’s work on it at your place” he snapped out of it, did he sound too happy to hear that you were single? yes, but we ain’t gonna talk about that

what was your ex thinking? he was pretty sure your kid was cute and you were so breath-taking to look at, what a stupid guy

“what does your son likes?”

“hm?” you asked him to make sure you heard him right

“what does your son likes?”

later in the evening, Suna showed up at your place with chocolate chip ice cream and the most expensive sushi he could find

you worked on your project for a good two hours, finalizing the outline of the thesis, while Kiro sat on Suna’s lap, your son immediately liked him, maybe because of the ice cream and sushi , but Kiro was very fond of him

“Kiro, baby, get off of Suna’s lap please he might get tired” you said to your son while you were keeping the things you used

“I don’t mind, he’s surprisingly light” Suna says as he bounces Kiro on his lap

“alright, if you say so, I’m going to prepare snacks” you made your way to the kitchen and left the two in the living room

“mister rin-rin” Kiro whispers while tugging on Suna’s shirt

“hm?” he answers looking at the kid, he was right, Kiro was extraordinarily adorable, it felt like he was looking at a smaller boy version of you and it was making her heart go feral, making him break his rules and try his best to get the both of you

“i want you to be my daddy” he whispers while fiddling with his fingers shyly

please this man is about to combust

he pats the boy’s head “sure bud” he said with a smile

“then can I call you dad?” he asks , eyes sparkling

“well it’s better to start early right? sure you can bud” he says, a full-blown grin plastered on his usually stoic face

Bokuto Koutaro

the flashing and clicking of cameras occupied the whole room where the MSBY Jackals were holding their post-game press conference, they won the game by the way and Bokuto was in high spirits answering questions thrown at him by the reporters

it was your turn to ask a question to the players and you stood up “Bokuto-san, your fans are always wondering why you’re always in high spirits, what is your secret?”

Bokuto has never seen you before, were you a knew reporter? because damn he would’ve noticed you immediately if you were on their past press conferences, you looked like a celebrity to be quite honest

“I’m playing volleyball, there’s no room for me to be unhappy” he simply says

it was you first day at your new job, quite frankly, you’re glad you quitted your old one, they forced you to stay behind the camera and write scripts for anchors when you finished a bachelor degree on broadcasting

“Can’t blame him, I’m also happy when I do my job” you mumble to yourself as you remembered Bokuto’s answer to your question

“mama!” you looked at your son who was in the arms of your cousin Kuroo

“hey thanks for doing this for me couz” you say as they stopped right in front of you

“mama! have you seen the game?! they were so awesome! Uncle Tetsu promised me to go meet MSBY!” your son happily jolts in his Uncle’s arm

you looked at him with a motherly smile, happy that you’re son enjoyed the game

“you coming with us?” Kuroo asked

“you two go ahead I’ll just rest for a bit” you were tired with keeping up with the game and asking questions

the two nodded “alright, just show this to the guard and they’ll let you enter” Kuroo says, handing you a pass

you mutter a small thank you as you watch them walk away

let’s just say Gen, your son, was liked by every single member of the team, I mean, who could ever dislike such an adorable kid?

“MSBY cool! Shoyo pwaaa! Boto bam!” he says while jumping up and down, while Kuroo watched his nephew smiling

Bokuto was particularly very fond of him, was it because the kid was unbelievably adorable? or was it because the kid reminded him of a certain reporter? He’d like to think both

“Gen-kun who’s yer fav’rite player eh?” Atsumu asks the kid

the kid looked at eight full-grown man looking at him expectantly, his eyes stopped on the black-and-white haired spiker and made grabby hands towards him “BOUTO! BOUTO!”

the members were disappointed but not surprised at all, kids tend to go to Bokuto or Hinata since they have the friendliest faces

“HEY! HEY! HEEEY!” Bokuto did not hesitate and lifted the boy up in the air, as they both giggle

“Tetsu?” your voice interrupted the commotion inside the room

Kuroo went to the door and opened it for you and the first thing you saw was your son giggling with the person stuck in your head for about twenty minutes now

“Mama!” your son screamed as soon as he saw you and asked to be put down to run towards you giving you a hug on your leg you looked down at him and patted his head gently

Kuroo cleared his throat “this is Y/N L/N my cousin, the mother of adorable the adorable Gen, she is single and ready to mingle, 2 in 1 you get an adorable son and a lovely wife, contact me for more details, the price can be discussed”

you deadpanned at your cousin, why tf was he selling you like an auction, you shook your head

you were hyper aware of the intensity of the owl-eyed spiker, making you blush

while Bokuto was over here thinking, damn he hit the jackpot an adorable son and an absolutely gorgeous wife? you bet he’s in and he’s gonna do everything he can to win you and make you and your son happy

“I’m sorry about him, please excuse me, my son and I needs to leave” you said politely and bowed as you take your son away

unbeknownst to you, Bokuto was in the middle of business with your cousin

“hey, how much for the details?” Bokuto whispers to his bestfriend as if they were in the middle of an illegal transaction

Kuroo looked at his friend with eyebrows raised

“I’ll pay any amount” Bokuto was very serious, which made the former Nekoma captain burts out laughing

“well, since you’re my good friend, a few drinks will do” Kuroo after his hyena laugh session

“Hey! hey! hey! thanks Kubroo!” Bokuto says in his usual cheery voice

later that night, you wondered why you were having dinner with your son, your cousin, and the former captain of Fukurodani, how he managed to get you flowers in such a short amount of time and this late at night was beyond your knowledge. But you weren’t complaining though, how could you when he looked adorable with a flushed face asking for your number after driving you and your son home.

Kenma Kozume

Kenma wasn’t fond of kids, he didn’t disliked them, he just preferred hanging out with adults who were less hyper, proceeds to hangout with Bokuto, Hinata and Kuroo

but he was a gamer and it is inevitable that some of his fans were kids, he didn’t mind it though he is thankful to each and everyone of his fans

being the twenty-eight year old youtuber/CEO that he is, he barely have time to go out and it happened very rarely, and today happened to be one of those rare occasions as he got out to get some ice cream in a very hot summer day

but he was in a for surprise, at an empty alley, he heard a ruckus

“give it back! please give it back!”

it was never in Kenma’s personality to pry, but something was pushing him to go check out what was going on

he went inside to the dark alley and saw four boys, about eight years old, one was in the middle, his clothes all crumpled and dirty, his bag empty, his things sprawled out, scattered in front of him

“you want this thing? it’s not even the latest model, you think kodzu-”

Kenma cleared his throat, already able to register what was happening

“ken” the bully continued

“you know kids, I don’t really like bullies” Kenma starts as he walks towards the little boy, picking up his scattered things one by one and putting it in his bag

“leave, before I report you to your school” Kenma says stoically which made one of the boys drop the game console in his hand as the three of them scramble to get out of the dark alley

the little boy picked up the game console and tried to open it, but to no avail, it was broken

Kenma went closer as he handed him his bag

“are you okay?” he asked as he crouch down to the boy’s level, it was obvious that he was not okay, his face had little scratches and his clothes were all dirty and slightly damped

but the little boy meekly nodded and looked down on his game console, which Kenma noticed

“I can get you a new one” he says in attempt to cheer up the little boy, he didn’t know what was pushing him to do so, but his heart broke at the sight of him broke his heart

“mister Kodzuken, can you please get this fixed for me instead?” for the first time, the boy looked at him with sad eyes

how could he say no to that face? he took the game console and looked at the boy

“is there a reason why you want me to fix it?” he asks

“my mom worked hard to get me that on my birthday, she didn’t buy her favorite coffee, her favorite bread, she patched up her shoes instead of buying a new one, she even lied to me that she wasn’t hungry when we ate out, I don’t wanna make her sad” the boy sadly said and wore his bag

Kenma was in awe, no wonder this boy was so polite and respectful

“alright, how but I’ll call your mother now, she is needed in this situation” Kenma says as he takes out his phone

the boy slowly dictates his mom’s phone number, and when he was done, Kenma was speechless, the number was already registered as his secretary’s number

Kenma shakily presses the call button

“sir?” your voice from the other line, never seize to make his heart skip a beat

“Y/n do you happen to have a son?” his voice was still calm

“yes, how did you know sir? i have a son he’s name is Eiji, he’s eight” you happily told him

“well, I kinda caught some kids bullying him, I think that you’re needed here” he says calmly

“oh no, my baby, i’ll be there ASAP sir, please do send the location”

“I’ll send the location to my driver, he’ll pick you up” Kenma says and hangs up as he send a quick messege and the location to his driver

Kenma was supposed to ask you out tomorrow, that was the reason why he didn’t go to the office today, he was going to surprise you at his place because he didn’t want you, the girl he liked to the horrible people of the internet

you were too pure, too kind, you always made sure to get him something to eat despite his resistance, made sure that he doesn’t overwork himself and even going to the extent where you do some of his workloads, of course he trusted you enough to do so and you’ve been working with him for four years now

but you had a child? did you have a husband? but you’re resume said that you were single? is it a boyfriend?

“you know mister Kodzuken, mama always talks about you when I ask her about her day, I think she’s got a little crush on you” Eiji smiled softly at him

which almost made the former setter melt into a puddle, the boy was adorable, and even if his original plan was to just date you, he was more than happy to have Eiji, having a mini you around made it all even better, he wasn’t fond of kids but the little boy infront of him was an exception

“I think, I can make that happen” he smiles softly

the day after you appeared looking distressed, talked to your son’s bullies and their parents at the school’s principal office with Kenma and Eiji seating beside you, you were now inside your boss’ house, he was asking you to be his girlfriend, your son happily jumping up and down beside him

how could you say no, when four years ago, you were only dreaming of this moment?

#kenma x reader #bokuto x reader #suna rintaro x y/n #suna x reader #kenma kozume #Bokuto Koutarou #suna rintaro #haikyuu scenarios

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breanime · 4 years ago

Text

Intentions

Okay, here’s my shot at a Tommy Shelby fic... Let me know what you think, please!

Prompt: “You think I would do this for just anybody?”

You weren’t entirely sure what possessed Tommy Shelby—the Tommy Shelby—to assist you, but you decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and just appreciate it. Ever since he’d overheard you telling Ada about the men who harassed you on the streets, Tommy had taken it upon himself to make sure you always had an escort home.

And for the last five days, that escort had been him.

“Really, Mr. Shelby—” you began, holding your purse in front of you as Tommy locked up the office.

“—Tommy,” he corrected you, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Tommy,” you repeated, “you don’t have to keep doing this, really. I can just walk.”

“You live 45 minutes from the office,” he said back, “and that’s not counting having to stop for fucking protests or some pieces of shite trying to pick you up. Then it’s around 56 minutes if it’s raining or snowing,” he went on, “More if it’s doing both at once,” he led you to his car, opening the door for you, “You work hard; you ought to have your boss make sure you get home safe.”

You bit your lip, trying to keep your growing smile in check. Tommy had no way of knowing that—the time it took for you to get home—unless he walked the walk himself. “Well,” you said, climbing into the car, “I really do appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well just appreciate it quietly, eh? Don’t need the other girls thinkin’ they can get a free ride out of me,” he glanced at you, giving you a small smile that made your heart flip in your chest. You watched as he started the car, and he turned to you, “Why do you stay in that neighborhood, anyway?” He asked you. “It’s so far from town, the buildings are old, the landlords are pricks…”

“It’s the only neighborhood that houses Blacks,” you answered, “Or at least it’s the only one that houses us at an affordable price.”

“Hm,” he nodded, looking ahead as he drove, the smoke from his cigarette billowing from his lips, “Am I paying you that poorly?”

You laughed, and you didn’t miss the way his lips twitched upwards as you did. “You pay me well above the usual rate. I’m just saving it up, is all. I can’t have you driving me around forever, Mr. Shelby—”

“—Tommy,” he corrected you.

You rolled your eyes, making him chuckle, “Tommy,” you amended yourself.

“I don’t mind it, you know,” he said, turning the wheel, “driving you. These last few days, it’s been… nice,” he paused, “I don’t get a lot of time for good company or conversation on me own.”

“Oh, so I’m good company, am I?” You said with a grin.

Tommy turned to you, those diamond blue eyes staring right into your soul, “You’re a smart girl,” he replied, “Loyal, Trustworthy. Hard working. And you’re bloody gorgeous so. Yes. You make for good company.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and your eyes darted down to your lap. You’d heard that Tommy Shelby was a charmer, and that he’d had pretty much every woman who’s worked for him—minus his aunt and his sister-in-law, of course—but you’d never seen him so… forward.

You liked it.

“Have I made you uncomfortable?” He asked casually, as if he was asking about the weather.

“No,” you answered, looking over at him, “You make for good company too.”

He gave a wry smile then. “Fishin’ for a raise, eh?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Either I’m loyal and trustworthy, or I’m bootlicker. Which is it, Tommy?”

He laughed, and the sound made you warm all over. Tommy didn’t laugh nearly as often as he should. “Fair enough,” he nodded, “You’re not a bootlicker, that’s for sure,” he glanced over at you again, “I haven’t figured out what it is you are yet…”

“I’m a girl who isn’t gonna let you fuck her just cause you’ve given me a few rides,” you said back, speaking before you could stop yourself.

He raised his eyebrows, nodding. “Is that what you think is going on here?” He asked. “My driving you home from work? You think I’m doing this for sex?”

You licked your lips, nervous now. “Well, I mean no offense, Mr.—Tommy—but I’ve worked for you for three months now, and I think I know you well enough to know that you never do anything for nothing.”

Tommy smirked. “That’s true,” he stopped the car, letting a mother and her kids pass in front, and looked at you, his eyes staring into yours brazenly, “So, let’s have it. Give me your theories,” he started the car again, glancing back at you as he spoke, “Why, then, do you think that I do this?”

You paused. Maybe you were being presumptuous. Maybe he didn’t want to sleep with you. Just because he called you gorgeous, didn’t mean he wanted to fuck you, after all. Maybe he didn’t mean what he said—although Tommy always meant what he said. Maybe, though, he really was just concerned about your wellbeing. A woman walking home alone at night could be vulnerable to all kinds of dangers, and given the amount of enemies the Shelbys had… You looked over at Tommy. “You do this for everyone,” you surmised.

Tommy turned to you, an eyebrow raised. “You think I would do this for just anybody?”

Again, you paused. “Yes?”

“Well, I don’t,” he said back, “I’ve never driven any of the girls home—except for Lizzie, but that’s only because I fucked her,” he went on, blunt as ever, “This takes up a portion of my time, and I’m not a man who has a lot of time to waste,” he looked over at you, “I like being around you,” he confessed, “I like the way you talk. I like the way you think, and when I think of you alone at night… I can’t sleep. I can never sleep, but still…” He took his cigarette and tossed it, giving a humorless chuckle. “You make me ramble,” he went on, shrugging one shoulder, “I don’t ramble, least not since France...” He paused for a moment. “When I’m busy, and one of the lads takes you home instead, it ruins me night. It irritates me that I missed out on that time with you, and that another man got it instead,” he glanced at you again, “Is that alright to say?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “I prefer it when you drive me,” you admitted, “Not that the others aren’t nice and all—they are—but… I do like this time with you, being alone with you…”

Tommy looked at you, his sky-blue eyes staring into yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Wordlessly, he pulled the car over, turning to face you fully. “Tomorrow is Friday,” he said, and you blinked, confused as to why he was telling you something you already knew, “Pay day. I’d like to take you out to dinner. Maybe see a picture after. Would that be alright?”

You felt your lips spread out in a smile, and Tommy smiled back, chuckling a bit at the excitement in your eyes. “Yes,” you answered, “yes, that’d be alright.”

“But I want to be honest with you,” he went on, “I respect you as an employee, and you’ve been a good friend to me these past months, and regardless of what happens tomorrow night, I will still make sure you have a safe way home after work,” he leaned forward a bit, his voice low and deep, “but I want it known that I very much do want to fuck you.”

His words sent a flush of heat through you, and you had to remind yourself that you were a lady, not a whore…no matter how much Tommy Shelby’s glimmering eyes and sharp jawline made you want to be… Biting your lip, you smiled at him, “I’m not going to open my legs for you on the first date, Tommy.”

He laughed, taking out another cigarette and lighting it, the flame reflecting in his ocean-colored eyes. “Mm, we’ll see,” he murmured, “So it’s a date then?”

“It’s a date.”

The rest of the drive passed quickly—too quickly for your taste. The two of you discussed work and your families and what movie you’d like to see, and before you knew it, he was parked outside of your building.

He opened the door for you and walked you to the front door like a gentleman. And you thanked him—

—with a kiss.

If the kiss took him by surprise, Tommy didn’t show it. As soon as your lips touched his, his arm was wrapped around you, keeping you close. The kiss was soft, but firm, and Tommy’s slender body felt magnificent against yours. You wondered, at the back of your mind, what your neighbors would think, seeing you necking with Tommy fucking Shelby of the Peaky fucking Blinders, but you couldn’t be bothered to care about what the gossips may say.

You were too busy trying to keep yourself from floating off in a haze of bliss.

You pulled back first, and Tommy let you. You couldn’t keep the smile off of your face. “I’m not letting you up, Tommy.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Like hell you didn’t,” you smirked, making him laugh.

“I’m a patient man,” he said back, taking a step back, “I can wait until tomorrow.”

You laughed at that, but the truth was, you were quite certain that tomorrow night, when Tommy pulled up in front of your apartment, he wouldn’t be driving off until the sun rose.

In fact, you were counting on it.

You watched him drive off from your window, a sigh escaping from deep in your chest, the taste of him—mint and smoke and a hint of whiskey—fresh on your lips. Tommy fucking Shelby…

…what had you gotten yourself into?

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

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! You guys know how I get when I write a new character; I always think it’s shit. So if it is, tell me! And if it’s not, tell me why, please! Should I write for him again, or nah? Cause I kind of have an idea for a Part 2, but IDK if anyone would be interested.

And if you really enjoyed it and you can send in a tip here, I would greatly appreciate it!

Everything Taglist: @sweetybuzz25 @mrsjaxtellerfan @rhabakoli @encounterthepast @realduckvader @justvnash @knowles-morgan @ateliefloresdaprimavera @evanlys19 @nyxxnoxx @carlaangel86 @luminex3 @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @otomefromtheheart @lexxierave @amethyst09 @falsehopesndreams @a-dorky-book-keeper @witchygagirl @glimmerglittergirl @fvckthisbxtchup @ben-c-group-therapy @felicity-x0 @amirra88 @yourfellowangel @vibranium-soul @xserenax-13 @woahitslucyylu @gemini0410 @ktiz90 @theoceanhathsolace @starrynite7114 @my-rosegold-soul @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @abbiesthings @peaches007 @ifoundmyhappythought @tegggeeee @bisexual-space-slut @mariaenchanted @thesandbeneathmytoes @sheeshgivemeabreak @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @venusis-inretrograde @shaelivia @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @yourwonkywriter @fear-less-write-more

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby x black reader #black reader fic #tommy shelby imagine

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