#guess what. the next one is way too ambitious. again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thepixelelf · 11 months ago

Text

Oh Baby, You Part 42 - Recovery Mission?

prev « masterlist » next

Wonwoo turns the small bundle of forget-me-nots in his hands. He knows flowers alone aren’t enough, but he grazes his fingers over the bit of white ribbon holding the posy together. You’d always loved the little bits and bobs you could collect over time. There was once a red ribbon wrapped around a gift he bought you back before he left for Mongolia — courtesy of the store’s gift wrapping station — which you saved and tied in a cute little bow on one of the drawer handles in your old apartment. While he was gone, he would look forward to seeing it in the background of video calls. Like it was a part of him that he left behind to stay with you.

Shit. He feels like an idiot.

In the elevator mirror, he meets Chan’s eyes. “Are you sure about this?”

He shrugs. “Are you?”

Looking back down at the flowers, Wonwoo lets out a long breath. “What if they don’t want to hear it?”

“Well…” Chan gives his head a pensive tilt. “Don’t you think you owe it to them to try? Even if they turn you away?”

“You’re…” Wonwoo doesn’t get to finish. The elevator door opens, and even though his apartment — and yours, by association — is around a corner and hidden from sight, he hears your voice. And someone else’s.

Stepping out of the elevator, Wonwoo stops just before rounding the corner and peeks for a half second around it. A vaguely familiar man is standing right in front of you, holding a bouquet of white flowers, while you linger in your doorway. Though Wonwoo quickly ducks back behind the corner, he knows you well enough to tell that you’re tired, and you don’t really want to be talking to that person.

Chan follows a little too quickly. “What’s—”

Arm shooting out, Wonwoo stops Chan from revealing himself in the hallway. “Who is that guy?” he whispers.

Chan peeks around the corner. “Oh, that’s Choi Seungcheol.”

“Mingyu’s rival?” The corners of Wonwoo’s lips quirk downward. “Why would he be…?”

“Remember when I made you take me to the hospital? They went on a date that day.”

“A date?” Something bitter settles at the bottom of Wonwoo’s stomach. He risks another look around the wall. Damn. The guy does look good in a suit.

Chan shrugs. “MT didn’t really seem into it. My money is on him trying to dig into the whole baby scandal. He’s totally got that ambitious business villain from the dramas vibe.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“I think he’s trying to get information on them so he can dethrone Kim Mingyu.”

Wonwoo frowns. “By dating them?”

Shrugging again, Chan leans against the wall with his arms crossed. “It’s just a guess. I’m trying to not snoop anymore.”

Wonwoo gestures a finger between them. “What do you call this, then?”

“Recovery mission?”

“You—”

“Look,” your voice comes from down the hall, slightly louder. “Seungcheol. I already told you. I know what you’re after.”

“I won’t try anything from now on.”

“Sure, sure. And I’m just supposed to think you want me because— what? My dashing just-made-a-microwave-meal-for-dinner-after-not-sleeping-for-twenty-two-hours looks? My abandoned bachelor’s degree? My complete disinterest in diffidence?”

“Dividends.”

“Exactly, Seungcheol. You’d never convince anyone you could want anything from me except for information on my child. Which will get you nowhere, by the way.”

“I’d like a chance to try again. To show my better side.”

“And I should give you that chance because…?”

Wonwoo peeks just in time to see Choi Seungcheol throw you a disarming smile and hold his bouquet out.

“Tulips?”

His feet start moving before he realizes it, and Wonwoo steps between you and Choi without a second thought. “They were saying no,” he asserts.

“What the...” you whisper your surprise.

Choi just furrows his brow. “Who are you?”

“No one,” you answer for him, slightly brushing him aside even as he glares down Choi. “Listen, I think you should—”

“The name’s Wonwoo.” And because he’s stupid, he goes on to say, “I’m Orion’s father.”

prev « masterlist » next

oby tagging 1, 50/50: @shiningstar-byulxx @shuabby-woowoo @90s-belladonna @xavi-in-kpopland @kachren @xmessaroundx @chwevernonlover @kwanisms @dalamjisung @1ntaktak @crazywittysassy @butterfliesinthenightsky @ddaengpotate @dorrysstuff @ckline35 @vanishingboots @potatofrieswithketchup @minhwa @oncecaratorbit @sugacookees @royal9 @doodlelibrary @myjaeyunn @yksthings @jundundun @amosmortese @jaeskz @seungmintree @woozarts @my-chaos-in-stars @yoonychoik @ksywoo @kellesvt @candidupped @sharkipoonis @wooahaeproductions @capsiclesworld @hellodefthings @sunshineshouchan @calumsfringe @caratinluv @pinkysinnerbaby @winterwallacehenderson @jvhoons @woo8hao @sxftiell @wondering-out-loud

#seventeen smau #seventeen social media au #svt smau #svt social media au #wonwoo smau #wonwoo social media au #jeon wonwoo smau #jeon wonwoo social media au #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

362 notes · View notes

squinch-depraved · 19 days ago

Note

pls pls pls pls pls schlatt with single mum reader

so. i'm in love with this idea and if this does well enough i might turn it into a series but for now here's how you meet plsss let me know if you guys want more of this omg

he met you doing interviews for a video on the street

normally this was the worst part of the job, only redeemed by the fact that he got to see women like you walk by every now and then

he didn't plan on stopping you, you had a kid with you so of course he understood that you didn't want to be bothered, let alone filmed

but you literally waltzed up to the microphone and just started bantering with him??

schlatt was so caught off guard he could barely keep up with your witty remarks as you debated the best toppings for a hot dog

no matter what he said, you retorted something better

until you turned to your daughter and asked her what she thought

and he lowered the mic down to her only for her to whisper,

"chechup."

schlatt broke out into a grin and turned to the camera, repeating the word and wrapping up the shot

he was so glad you stuck around until he could talk to you again, hoping you found him at least half as attractive as he found you

but you just wanted to know where you could find the footage once it was done

"lemme do you one better, i'll send you the unedited stuff of you, too! can i get your email?"

you rolled your eyes, smiling slightly and taking his phone from him to type your contact information

his eyes light up when he scans the screen once you hand it back; you left him your number as well!

"just blur daphne's face and shoot me a text before the video goes up. nice to meet you...?"

"uh. schlatt! it's schlatt," he replied, sliding his phone into his pocket and reaching to return your handshake

"y/n. thanks for letting us talk to you, daphy wanted to be on camera really bad. she wants to be a movie star one day, right daph?"

"yeah..." the girl whispered again, a bit louder than before

"but also a singer and a dancer." she spoke at a normal volume this time

"wow, that's ambitious. what kind of movies are you gonna make?"

you opened your mouth to answer swiftly and then leave, but daphne started babbling

"mama always tells me i should make funny movies because i'm funnier than i could ever know, but i really wanna make scary movies, because, guess what? i can scream really loud, listen-"

you clamped a hand over her mouth just in time, and schlatt laughed

"i am- i'm so sorry, she literally never talks to people, we're working on it, daphne you cannot just scream like that!!"

he was still laughing

why was he not disturbed?

"sorry, no, you guys are fine! she's hilarious, man, your mom's right."

you relaxed a bit, not used to this kind of reaction, and eased into a conversation with him

he ended up taking you two to get hot dogs and tried daphne's order

even pretended to like it for her

once it was time for you two to get going, he got you into a cab and waved bye to you both through the window

walked back to his friends unable to stop thinking about you

little did he know you were thinking about him for the rest of the day and all night

you would never trust someone like him around daphy, but he actually got her to talk??

you can barely get her to talk sometimes

and he was really cute...

he didn't seem overly interested in her, it looked more like he was there for you but didn't mind that you and your daughter came as a package deal

so maybe you should text him. at the very least, sleep on it

it had been a while since you had let yourself try to be happy in this way, and you already knew he got along great with daphne

you fell asleep thinking about what you would wear next time you saw him

#x reader #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x you #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff #jschlatt smut #schlatt smut

127 notes · View notes

szynkaaa · 1 month ago

Text

Not My Circus, But Unfortunately That Is My Monkey

Next Chapter ✦ Read it on AO3

Guess what, I wrote a one-shot for my disaster children Sun Wukong and OC. I plan to write more, whenever I have some ideas that I need to get off. Not a writer, and English is not my first language! This is mostly self-indulging crap.

It is written in 1st POV, from my OC's, but I also use 'you' (2nd POV??) when she is referring to the Destined One/Sun Wukong. Imagine basically all the one shots are diary entires or letters she wrote addressing to him. Books that inspired me to write in this style: Cat and Mouse by Günter Grass, Stolen by Lucy Christopher and You by Caroline Kepnes.

Here is my OC tag with art and backstories that I am making up for her which may or may not get mentioned in my one-shots.

Stories will not be written in chronological order of their adventure, I will write whatever comes to my mind. It's also posted on my AO3

In Which There Was Only One Bed (There Wasn't, They Are Both idiots)

It was around the hours of the Ox when I heard light footsteps pacing outside my room. The door to my room in the Stone Palace on Mount Huaguo was not fully closed. I liked to leave a bit open, just wide enough for me to hear more clearly if there is anything happening outside the door and I need to get ready to fight for my life – habits I picked up from my travel with you that seemed to not be going away any time soon.

I laid bundled up in three layers of blankets on a thin mattress on the ground close to nearest exist in the room: a window with no glass panels. A peach tree grew right outside said window, with the nearest branch to the window close enough for me to jump from the ledge over and climb down the tree to run away if needed. Even though you assured me that the Stone Palace is a safe place, and no harm can happen to me, after months of traveling with you and having far too many close encounters with death, I was not able to sleep anymore with all the doors and windows shut tight. It’s funny because before all of this, I couldn’t fall asleep before making sure that all doors were closed – and that included wardrobes too. I was so sure that if I left a wardrobe open, something was going to crawl out of it and drag me away as a kid. Now I fear that if I keep all doors closed, I will be trapped inside with whatever was already hiding in the room before even being able to escape.

The pacing in front of my door stopped. Logically, I knew that it was you outside, and yet my heart pace still picked up, thinking that maybe, just maybe some yaoguai managed to get pass you is now to finish me off. There weren’t many creatures living in the Stone Palace. So far, it’s just you and me. You told me that while there are still some monkeys living on Mount Huaguo, there were still many things you needed to get sorted out before things would go back to the way it was before - before the Monkey King retrieved the scripts from the West, before he embarked on a long journey of sixteen years, before he was buried under the Five Element Mountain for 500 years, before he wreaked havoc in heaven. Back when the halls and mountain was filled with joyous laughter and mischief and happiness. A simpler time, you said once. But you were greedy and ambitious and wanted more.

The pacing stopped.

Keeping my eyes shut and pretending to be still asleep, I slowly reached for the dagger (a gift from the 4th Spider Sister) under my pillow. I opened one eye and glanced at the door. The door creaked slightly, indicating that whoever was standing outside was pushing it open now. And then the pushing stopped briefly, like they were hesitating. I slowly moved the dagger to under my blanket, heart beating wildly, praying that I will not have to use it. Did I even know how to swing a dagger? I didn’t, but better to have a weapon than none. I closed my eyes again, pretending to be asleep.

This time, I heard someone knocking on the door.

“You’re awake.” came a voice standing outside. It was you, Sun Wukong, stating facts rather than asking if I was awake at this ungodly hour.

I released a relieved breath, not knowing I was even holding it and opened my eyes again. “Yeah, I am. What’s up?” I asked. I didn’t need to see your face to know that your eyebrows briefly furrowed at my ‘what’s up’. You got good at understanding the unusual way I talk, but there were still times where you couldn’t understand what I was trying to say.

You pushed the door open and walked in, your eyes wandering from the empty bed and then to my form laying bundled up in three layers of blankets – due to the chilly night air - on a thin mattress on the floor. Confusion was written all over your face. I sat up from and put the dagger aside as you walked towards me, and then crouched down.

“Why are you sleeping on the floor? Is the bed not to your liking?” you asked. There was worry etched into your face, your tail lowered to the ground. You were out of your armor, wearing a simple hanfu top and loose pants. The hanfu was not properly tied up, giving me a good view onto your fur-covered upper body – the only part showing some skins were your chest and neck. It’s very likely that up until few minutes ago, you were also in your own bed, trying to sleep.

I wrapped my blankets around my shoulder and leaned back against the wall. “The bed is fine. It’s just...” I trailed off, suddenly feeling very silly for sleeping on the floor.

You noticed my hesitation, and sat down on the floor opposite of me, legs crossed. I knew that this usually meant you were waiting patiently for me to find the right words to say what I wanted.

Ah fuck it. You have already seen me at my worst, what is one more silly confession? “The bed is too soft.” I blurted out.

One of your eyebrows perked up. “Too soft?”, you repeated gently. I half-expected you to mock what I said. The stories I read about the Great Sage Equal to Heaven were running through my head, how the Monkey King would easily mock and tease others for their weakness. But then I silently berated myself for even thinking like this about you – you’re not like this anymore. That was you long in the past. I was still getting used to the ‘new’ you. The you that inherited Sun Wukong’s relics and minds and memories.

“I think I’m just too used to sleeping on the cold hard ground outside. I’m having hard time falling asleep these days on the bed, so I just move all the things down here to get some sleep. It’s silly, I know. We are not traveling anymore and I know this is a safe place but-”

“It’s not silly.” you interrupted me, and looked me in the eyes with an intense stare, making my breath hitch. “I want you to feel comfortable here. And if this means you need to sleep on the floor, then so be it. If you need ten blankets to sleep with,” you continued, patting my three blankets, “then I will find you the best silk blankets in the three realms.”

A smile hushed over my face at that statement.

“Please do not run away again.” you finished, and a heavy silence hung over us. Again. I lowered my eyes, thinking back about the time when I could not accept that you, the Destined One, have fully reincarnated into Sun Wukong. At that time, it seemed to me like I lost a best friend and they were replaced by a look-a-like with a different personality. Toppled with the fact that finding all six artifacts did not send me back home, it was too much for me to handle and I ran away, hiding in the Zodiac Village for a few weeks processing everything. You went from not talking a single word to suddenly being able to say anything that came into your mind – it was new and foreign and just felt so wrong at that time.

My actions at that time hurt you deeply, but you didn’t give up and came to visit the village every day, talking to everyone and just checking up on me while I was hiding away in the blacksmith’s cottage, like the coward I was.

Things were not back to the way it was before between us, and I don’t think it ever will be – and that’s okay, I realized. Just because some things have changed, it did not mean it was for the worse. It was just different, but not in a bad way.

Wiggling a foot out of my blanket layers, I gently nudged your leg. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Your shoulders visibly relaxed, and then it was my turn for asking questions. “Why are you awake at this time pacing in front of my door?”

“I could not fall asleep either.” you replied, arms crossed like it was the most obvious answer. Duh.

“Okay, yeah. I figured out that much.” I rolled my eyes. Typical monkey, not giving me a straight answer. “What is keeping you awake?” I rephrased my question.

At that, your shoulders stiffened up and you avoided looking at me. It must have been something bad if you swallowed your pride to come over this late at night to see me. I pressed my lips into a thin line and nudged you again with my foot, to which you then simply grabbed hold of it. “Why is your foot freezing cold.” You asked instead.

“I’ve been dead for seven years.” shot out of me sarcastically, as I tried to tug my foot back into the blanket, but you were holding onto it with an iron grip, and then you started to massage my foot with both of your hands to get some warmth into them.

I felt the heat creeping up into my ears and tried to stay focused. “You’re avoiding my question.” Still holding onto the three layers of blanket, I shuffled a bit closer to you. You were still massaging my foot, putting all your attention into it to make sure it was warm.

“You should be grateful the Great Sage is massaging a mere mortal’s foot.” you snipped back.

Stupid rock monkey.

Using my other free foot, I tried to kick you for that sassy comment, but of course you saw it coming and caught my second foot in your hands too – which was also freezing cold, and you started massaging that one too, very focused on the task at hand.

I let you do it for a couple of minutes, till I could feel my toes again.

“Hey Wukong...” I started; you didn’t pause what you were doing. “Please tell me why you couldn’t sleep?”

Your movement briefly stopped, and then continued, your eyes avoiding mine. I bent forward a little bit and then grabbed your face with my hands, gently gripping the hair on your face and tilting your head up so that you were looking at me. You looked haunted, as if your head has been replaying some bad memories on repeat in your head like a broken record. You stopped massaging my feet, and moved your hand to grip mine that was holding your face, but you didn’t remove them from there.

“I... I can feel it.” you started, eyes drifting off again.

I moved my fingers a bit to massage your face, knowing that you loved it when I did this. “Feel what.”

“When I close my eyes, I am back in the battle field. Fighting against his- my sworn brother. Against the Yaoguai I fought at my travel. The three-eyed bastard and his mutt. The anger of the Court killing my kin, and how terrified I was gambling with my life-” you spoke, your hands gripping my hands so tight that I winced slightly, to which you immediately loosened them and then ran your finger up and down against mine as a form of apology.

I knew that by obtaining all six artifacts you would also gain Sun Wukong’s memories. However, it didn’t cross my mind that it also means you would have all the bad memories too, including the one where you had to kill yourself in order to be completely free.

I was never really good with words, or knew what to do to make a friend feel better. But I knew I did not – could not – let you walk back to your room alone after what you just confessed.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” From the corner of my eyes, I saw how your tail slightly perked up at that.

You hesitated, before replying, “I do not want to cross any boundaries and make you uncomfortable.”

My eyes softened at that, knowing that you were referring to me still adjusting to the new-old you. “I mean. It’s not like it would be any different from when we shared a bed or bedroll when we were traveling.”

Your tail was now up from the floor, swishing left and right, a sign that you liked the proposal. Sometimes I think that you didn’t even know your tail was moving on its own, giving away what you were feeling.

Your hands stopped gripping mine, and then you scrunched your nose and said in a very distasteful tone, “The Great Sage does not sleep on the floor.”

I see, back to the snobby dignified king act. I knew that this was your attempt to cover up for the honest moment we briefly shared few seconds ago

Say what you want, the Monkey King is a bit of a tsundere.

Slapping your face lightly with both of my hands, I then proceed to lay back down and closed my eyes. “Suit yourself. You can carry me to the bed cause I ain’t movi-”

Before I could finish that sentence, something lifted me up along with my three blankets and then I was placed over a shoulder like a sack of potato. All I could see was a monkey tail swishing left and right before the room turned again and I was deposited ungently onto the bed, still cocooned up in my blankets. You motioned me to scooch over to the far end of the bed and then laid down next to me, with one arm under your head and the other resting on your stomach. “I need a blanket. Why do you have three of them?” You asked.

I stared at you, and you stared back, slowly raising an eyebrow. We both knew that the raised eyebrow meant ‘Are you really going to make this hard because this is a fight you will not win but I will indulge you if you want to’. Then I smiled in surrender, and shuffled around a bit so that I was out of my blanket cocoon and held up half of the blanket as a silent invitation for you to come closer and get under the blanket with me.

You did not need to be told twice. I lifted up my head so that you could put your arm under my head while I moved also closer to you, staring at the two moles on your exposed neck. You then moved the blanket over to us and placed your over arm around my body. I instantly felt much warmer, warmth that three layers of blanket could never provide. Wiggling my arms, I moved a bit back to make some space for my hands, before placing them on the exposed skin on your chest that was not covered by fur.

Just like my feet, my hands were also freezing cold. You knew I had bad blood-circulation, and yet for some reason you never seemed to be prepared for whenever I decide to use your body heat as a personal hand-and-feet-warmer. Or maybe you did but didn’t mind it that much.

“Why are your hands freezing cold mortal,” you hissed, but instead of pushing me away you grip around me tightened. Before I could give a reply, you said “And do not tell me it is because you have been dead for seven years.”

I grinned, feeling my hands warming up, and then proceed to tuck my cold-again feet between his fur-covered legs. You let out a defeated sigh, and then rested your chin on top of my head. “The Great Sage, reduced to a mere warmth comforter for a mortal.”

“Mhmmm.” I mumbled out, sleep finally catching up to me. ”Night night, Kiwi.” I said drifting off.

Something that felt like a pair of lips brushed my forehead.

Do you still see flashes of red, and feel the burning sensation of pain on your chest when you close your eyes? Do you still hear the sound of your Jīngū Bàng clashing with Erlang Shen’s spear, or when you laid in your sworn brother’s arms, taking your last breath before you crumbled into ashes, the wind carrying it away? You told me that the nightmares stopped whenever I was sleeping next to you.

Now I wonder if you are having them again, sleeping alone in your bed that was too big for one lonesome Monkey King.

#the ham writes #cepheus baskerville #black myth wukong #not me hinting that there might not be a happy ending after all for those two idiots #love me a good tragic sad story lmfaooo #black myth wukong oc #sun wukong #sun wukong x oc #Not My Circus #But Unfortunately That Is My Monkey

72 notes · View notes

mangoisms · 1 year ago

Text

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter one: on my way to circle k

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.3k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

The Slurpee machine is broken again.

It isn’t that big of an issue, not particularly world-ending, no, especially since you get regularly held at gunpoint (or knifepoint) and occasionally used as a hostage.

But for you, working the night shift from eleven PM to seven AM, you kind of need the sugar boost. The Slurpees are easier on your stomach than the coffee is. Even if they do stain your mouth.

You sigh, continuing to stare at the machine; it whirs and sputters strangely and you set aside the cup to shut it off. You’ll also need to file the paperwork for it to be fixed. That seriously blows.

You get it unplugged just as the gust of wind hits.

You stumble. Shelves groan in protest. Several rows of granola bars and trail mix are sent flying.

Oh, great, who is it now—

You hear your name in a question, from a very familiar voice.

You spit out a mouthful of your hair. “Flash?”

Sure enough, in the flesh, the Flash grins at you, blue lightning fading from his body. He spreads his arms as he exclaims your name again.

In a blink, he is there, arms wrapping around you, lifting you off the ground as he squeezes the life out of you. Another blink and you’re on the ground, looking at him, his hand on your shoulder.

“Look at you, kid. It’s good to see you. I can’t believe you’re still working here.”

A stupid grin forms on your lips. “It’s not the same here without you eating up our inventory.”

He laughs. “I bet!”

You shake your head, fixing your hair and your shirt. Flash notices the state of the granola bars and trail mix, sends you an apologetic smile, and in the next blink, they are back on the shelves, neatly arranged.

“So, what brings you here? If you can answer that.”

He waves a hand, flitting around, emptying the sausage grill and making himself several hot dogs.

“One of the rogues got a little, shall we say, ambitious and wanted to try his luck here. Just trying to snatch him up before Batman finds out.”

“Let me guess—Trickster?”

He points a hot dog loaded with mustard and ketchup at you. “Bingo.”

“It’s dripping.”

“Aw, shit.” He shoves the rest of the hot dog in his mouth, grabs a napkin, and starts dabbing at the spot of mustard on his suit.

You watch him, amused, but also morbidly fascinated as usual at seeing him eat so much. When he finishes the hot dogs, he goes for the pizza. It makes sense when you think about it, that a guy who can run faster than the speed of light should need to eat so much, but it’s been a while since you’ve had the pleasure of watching him refuel. Six months, actually, since you returned from Keystone City.

You scratch your head. “I’m not sure why Trickster would want to come here. Batman, I think, is a worse punishment than you—”

“Agree, even if that’s also a little insulting to me.”

“Oh, you know what I mean. You’re avoiding him, aren’t you?”

Flash nods. “This is true. Carry on.”

“Well… Gotham already has a joke-themed guy. I don’t think Joker is going to take too kindly to someone encroaching on that. Unless he’s back in Arkham. Though he might’ve escaped again…”

“Y’see, that’s what I thought. It’s gonna sound bad, too, but I’m kinda hoping those two take care of each other, then I can get Trickster back to Iron Heights without any issues. But—”

You crack a smile, guessing his next words immediately. “When is it ever that easy?”

You had once believed the Flash to be just about infallible. After all, he is the Flash. This is the guy who, like you said, can run faster than the speed of light. He can canvas a city in under a minute. That’s how he takes care of Central City and Keystone City. (Well, the addition of the other Flash and Kid Flash probably help, too, but you know.)

But it’s not that easy. It’s why, you think, Metropolis has issues, even when they have Superman.

No rest for the wicked and all.

“Well, it’s still good to see you,” you say, a tad more hesitantly this time. Unsure if you can say that.

Flash looks back at you, sending you a warm smile. “It’s good to see you, too. How’s school?”

“No classes now. Financial aid doesn’t cover the summer, so.”

He frowns. “You’re still on track to graduate next year, though, right?”

You pause, surprised he remembered you saying that. “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

Flash nods, worries assuaged, then his gaze strays to the Slurpee machine, its lights turned off. “Aw, it’s not working?”

“Not today, sorry.”

He purses his lips, head tilting as he looks at the counter where the machine and your abandoned cup are.

“Wait a second,” he says, then the food that was in his hands is on the counter and he’s gone with arcs of blue lightning following him, a tingly feeling spreading through your fingertips and toes, like when you used to be a kid and dragged your hands across those old TV screens, feeling the static.

True to his word, in the next second, he is in front of you, two Slurpees in hand. One blue raspberry and another cherry.

You grin as he proudly presents the blue raspberry Slurpee to you.

“Thanks.”

He winks. “My pleasure.”

He collects his food again then gestures to the front with his head. Sipping at the ice-cold Slurpee, you follow him, sliding behind the counter.

“Time to head off?” you guess, ringing up the food he already ate, then the rest of the stuff.

He slips out a few bills from a hidden pocket at his hip. “Yeah, I need to go before—”

“Flash!” The door opens roughly. You balk as you see who it is. “Seriously? You can’t just run off. You’re just as bad as Impulse sometimes, I swear.”

Red Robin stands there, hands on his hips, scowling, doing a good impression of a teacher scolding a student, which is really weird for you, since you’ve always held a good dose of fear and respect for the Bats and this doesn’t really… go on par with that. And also, you’re pretty sure Flash is older than him.

Flash frowns. “Now that’s seriously uncalled for. I’m much better than he is. We were done talking, weren’t we? You’d call me if you found anything and it’s not like it would take me time to get there, would it?”

Red Robin doesn’t respond to that, mostly because he’s looking at you now. You’ve never seen him up close — any of them up close. Black fair falls sharply over his forehead, a black domino mask hiding his eyes. Not like a normal one; this one allows for more coverage under his eyes, going down to his nose, the end of which curves in a way reminiscent of a bird. But under the bright fluorescents of Circle K, everything else is easy to make out. Pale skin, a sharp jaw, a soft-looking mouth.

Great. He’s hot. And something else… something that niggles at you. Familiar in a way that bothers you because you’ve never seen him in person. Not like this.

You swallow nervously, giving him a half-hearted wave. The action jars him and he looks away from you quickly.

“Hey, don’t be mean to her,” Flash chides. “Seriously. Look at her. You’ve made her nervous.”

“Flash.”

He shoots you a troublesome grin. “Nah, don’t worry about him, kid. He’s harmless.”

“Flash,” Red Robin hisses out, his voice sounding stranger than before, modulated, in a way.

You compose yourself, giving Flash a look. “You know better than that. Perception means everything.”

“That is true,” he says. “But believe me. If fear worked as well as they’d like it to, Gotham would be the safest city in the country.”

A long-suffering sigh. Red Robin is turned away now and by the movement of his arm, pinching the bridge of his nose, exasperated.

“Hey, I’m not wrong,” he says to him, even despite you silently waving for him to drop it. “Look, fear is fine and all. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with nurturing relationships with the people you protect. That’s what I did with you, isn’t it, kid?”

“Yeah, but I’m also not, you know, from there…”

He collects his change. “Which is why it’s even more embarrassing that these guys make you nervous and I don’t.”

Red Robin huffs.

Flash shrugs, smirking. “Just food for thought. I’ll see you around, yeah, kiddo? Gotta get going before this guy gets annoyed enough to just tell Batman about me and then I’ll really have problems.”

Then he’s gone, blue lightning arcing in his wake. Red Robin sighs again and leaves without a word or backward glance.

You stand there for a minute, unsure if that really happened. But the signature Slurpee cup of blue raspberry, already sweating because the June heat in Gotham is unbearable and the AC is not up to task, assures you very much that that did just happen.

A little unsteady, you take a seat on the stool, shaking your head and dragging the cup to you.

At least you got to see Flash again.

You don’t see him again, which is what you expected.

What you don’t expect is the appearance of Red Robin the next night.

You’ve grown up in Gotham City. Like anyone else, you have a healthy dose of fear and respect for the vigilantes that prowl the shadows. You also, unlike Vicki Vale or any journalist or obsessive conspiracy theorist, have absolutely zero interest in interacting with them.

Usually, interacting with them means you are in grave danger.

(You had to unlearn some of that during your brief tenure in Keystone City; the Flash was a little bit different from them. Maybe more than a little bit…)

So, when Red Robin shows up at Circle K at half past one in the morning, you are… a tad wary.

It doesn’t help that he seems awkwardly frozen, too, as your voice catches in the middle of your perfunctory Hi, welcome in as you realize who it is.

For a minute, it is painfully, painfully quiet.

“Is there something—”

“Do you have any—”

You both stop. You purse your lips. Red Robin is… blushing a little bit? Holy shit.

“Go ahead,” he says, clearing his throat after. His voice still sounds off like yesterday—modulated.

You grimace. “Sorry, I was just asking if there was something going on? Should I lock down the shop or hide or something?”

He looks briefly confused. “No? I mean, no… Everything is fine. I was just wondering if you guys had any, uh—” he seems to falter, scrambling a little bit “—hot… chocolate?”

Hot chocolate in June? What a weirdo.

You keep your face straight, though.

Flash might’ve let you off the hook when it came to formalities but you’d be an idiot to think you could get away with that with these guys.

He exhales the briefest laugh at something, then—you, you realize, your expression, which should be perfectly polite, what the hell. He turns his head away as a smile curls his lips. That niggling feeling—which began as soon as you realized he was here—strengthens. You push it away for a second.

“I know. Late night. Don’t like coffee, so it’s a good alternative.”

How did he—?

Must be the detective thing.

You apologize anyway.

“Sorry. My, uh, friend’s like that, in a way,” you say, your tongue again moving faster than your brain can grapple with. He won’t care about the fact that your friend, Tim, is like that, too. Well, Tim likes the occasional energy drink if he’s staying up late because he doesn’t like coffee. Not this hot chocolate business. But maybe? Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually. Probably better than Red Bull, even if he doesn’t drink it often, maybe once or twice a month. And, anyway, it’s not the point. This guy doesn’t care. He probably couldn’t care less. You’re just trying to show him—oh, it doesn’t matter. This entire thing has gone straight to shit. All because he managed to read your judgment.

“Oh?” It’s a question but it’s a bit strangled. See? He doesn’t care. Poor guy. Probably trying to think of a way to get out of this. Well, you’ll do him one better.

“Uh, yeah… he’s—well. Doesn’t matter. Yeah, the machine is working. It’s over there.”

“Thanks.”

You nod and glance away, leaving him to cross to the other side of the store. You can’t help but watch him go, watching the way the heavy black cape swishes with his movements, boots soundless on the shitty tiled floors. He disappears behind the shelf, but his head is visible. A head of dark, dark hair that seems… familiar to you.

Ugh. What is with you?

It’s Red freakin’ Robin. You’ve glimpsed him and the others briefly. Shadows in the night, swinging from buildings, jumping from rooftops. Anybody who lives in Gotham long enough has seen the same. Doesn’t mean you know him enough to be this way, to be so bothered by something that won’t even come to mind.

You shake your head briefly.

You should think more on why he’s even here.

Though, it seems obvious, given what happened yesterday night.

Flash has a way of getting beneath your skin and inciting the most childish tendencies. You imagine his little comment about trust between vigilante and citizen bothered Red Robin.

Well, rest assured, you understand the position they are in. You enjoyed the way Flash visited you but they can’t afford that. Perception is gold. It is true, in some ways, that if it were as effective as they wanted it to be, Gotham would be less crime-ridden than it currently is.

(But that was also a conundrum with the corrupt government. So long as the systems were in place, crime would always happen, and it would take more than the Bats to fix that.)

Either way, they cannot afford for that mask to slip—metaphorically and literally.

There is a level of trust, you think, between the Bats and the people but… it’s not the same kind Flash fosters with his own.

You feel obligated to let Red Robin know that, with that, he has no obligation to do anything out of the ordinary.

So, that’s what you do when he comes back over to the counter, two small cups of hot chocolate in hand.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He turns forward with a five dollar bill in hand. “I can’t just not pay—”

“I’m not talking about that.”

He is paying. You are moderately appreciative of what they do but not that appreciative.

“So, what else is it that I don’t have to do?”

You gesture between you two. “This. Come here to try and prove the Flash wrong.”

“I’m not—”

You try to level with him.

“It’s cool, man. He can be annoying. Annoying enough that he could make anyone want to prove him wrong. I get it. But he’s also a little bit of a doof when it comes to matters of the public. Though I’m betting he was trying to aggravate you more than anything. Either way, I get it. You have an image to keep up. Do what you have to do.”

“So, you don’t want me to come back?” Not an accusation. A genuine question.

You blink. “That’s not what I said. I don’t mind. I’m just… letting you know.”

“What do you know about it, anyway? Upholding an image? You seem very confident on the do’s and don’ts, despite being a civilian.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You guys actually refer to us non-vigilantes as civilians? Like, unironically?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you with the emotionless white lids of the domino mask, lips pressed in a line.

You smile and roll your eyes, finally taking his five and opening the register. “I’m majoring in communication with a concentration in PR. Did an internship at Quickstart Enterprises last semester working with their PR department. You can say I know a thing or two about it.”

“What year?”

“Just finished my third. Starting my final in the fall. Look, I’m not saying you have to take my advice, I just wanted you to know. That’s all. I’m not holding it against you.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

You slide his change to him. “That’s all I ask.”

He picks up the cups, says, “Keep the change,” and then, he’s gone, dark cape fluttering, his figure swallowed up by the darkness of the night.

The only traces of his presence is the door slowly closing and the change still sitting on the counter.

These hero-types and their dramatic exits. Honestly.

You meet the Flash in your second week of work at Circle K.

The stipend from QE covered your housing and groceries but didn’t allow for much options regarding the latter. At least not the fresh produce kind.

So, you picked up a job at Circle K. Part-time only, which worked well with the schedule you had at QE. You typically worked evenings—not the graveyard shift you do now, which you took only because it paid better during the night—so from seven to eleven.

The Flash was different from the Bats in that regard. While Signal worked during the day, the rest of them worked during the night.

Flash told you he liked sleep, so he would take care of things during a reasonable hour in the evening to accommodate that, which meant you were beheld to his presence.

Frequently.

And the first time…

You have no idea what to make of the superhero currently raiding the sausage grill.

A larger part of you is suspicious, hoping that the Flash isn’t about to come up to you and say something arrogant about not being required to pay. A lot of the cops you get say something to that effect. It takes so much willpower in you to not roll your eyes.

But another part of you right now, the Tim part of your brain, is fascinated. Wants to ask some geeky questions about his power. Presumably, the fact that he is the fastest man alive means he has to eat a lot to sustain it, right?

Well. That one is a bit self-explanatory. At least if the way he’s stuffing his face tells you anything.

Suspicion wins out, though.

Keystone City is a nice enough city. Central City, across the river, is the same. They aren’t Gotham, that’s for sure, and sometimes you don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse.

It’s mostly that Keystone City is situated in Kansas and across the Mississippi, in Mississippi, is Central City. These regions of the country, historically conservative, make you a bit tetchy. Not at all helped by the fact that for a very long time, Keystone City was suspended in the fifties. Or rather, what they thought were the fifties. Time passed normally outside of it until the Flash fixed everything.

It gives Keystone an aesthetic old-timey vibe to it but with all the modern luxuries of the late 2010s, like phones and, you know, civil rights.

But things have been okay, for the most part. The people you encounter here at Circle K are amiable enough. (Well, except for the cops you get. You could go without dealing with those idiots.)

Though, admittedly, between work for QE and here and trying to keep yourself fed and (mostly) rested, you haven’t gotten out much.

The Flash, though… you haven’t directly encountered him. Not in your few weeks here. Sometimes when walking to the subway, you feel the sharp gust of wind, commonly associated with him as he makes his way through the city faster than a speeding bullet, glass windows and cars rattling dangerously in the aftermath of his path. On the news, when he takes down whichever rogue woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and in the newspaper. But nothing beyond that.

People speak fondly of him, for the most part. Rumors are solid sources of information but you just can’t help but be a little bit suspicious. There is such a thing as too good to be true, after all…

You reach for your half-empty cup of blue raspberry Slurpee. Though it’s the beginning of September, summer takes longer to leave the midwest, you’ve learned, and the summers here are loads worse than ones you’ve experienced in Gotham.

Before you can even get your mouth around the red straw, a breeze hits and you blink, finding the Flash in front of you, depositing mostly empty cartons of hot dogs onto the counter, with a few of them still full. On their way to being empty, though, as he crams more into his mouth. A cup of cherry Slurpee finishes it off.

The Flash points a half-eaten hot dog at you. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“No, no, not like that. You’ve just got this suspicion to you. This… paranoia. A paranoia that can only belong to someone from Gotham,” he says, nodding to himself.

Well, that’s—

Hm.

A bit embarrassed to be caught out like that—because it isn’t the first time—you attempt to make up for it.

“I’m from Metropolis, actually.”

Best to stay on the east coast. Even you couldn’t pass as someone from the west coast, like Star City or Coast City or something.

Flash grins at you. “Liar.”

You aren’t used to this kind of playful banter. Certainly not from a literal superhero, from someone who regularly saves the world with the likes of Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman and more. You don’t think you expected the cold brutality the city gets from the Bats back home but… you didn’t expect this, either.

To get a much-needed sense of normalcy, you scan one of the hot dog cartons, adding them up on the screen.

“Was it that obvious? I wasn’t trying to be… I mean, I was, but, you know, I didn’t, um…”

You stop, cringing. Very eloquent and more than a little annoying, given your career choice. Can’t be like that when you get put on the spot. Even if it’s by a superhero. Especially if it’s by a superhero. Journalists are even worse, anyway…

“Relax, kid,” he laughs. “To tell you the truth, it was hard to miss but I’m sort of geared for that kind of thing, what with my choice in career.”

“Right.” You scan the Slurpee and take a drink of yours while he fiddles with some zipper in his suit. A deep red, with a purple tinge, a silver Flash symbol on his chest, and a cowl, but with the top free, showing off a shock of red hair, and his eyes still exposed. Pretty green.

“But I do have an unfair advantage,” he goes on. “I see a similar look every time I have a League meeting.”

You blink. “The League…?”

“You should know. Your caped crusader, Batman. Of course, that’s also because he doesn’t like me—and the feeling is mutual, trust me—but, you know. Schematics. He sits right across from me and that’s all I get, this classic brand of Gothamite suspicion on top of the usual wordless Batman disapproval.”

“Should you be telling me that?”

He hands you a twenty. You pop open the register to break it. Another breeze hits and the empty cartons of hot dogs are shoved into the trash, with him eating the last one and on his way to finishing the large cup of cherry-flavored Slurpee.

“I mean, what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” you say lightly, calculating his change. “I could go to the press. Breaking News: Strife within the League. Tenuous relations between Batman and the Flash.”

“Oh, really?”

“That’s the press. A common dislike will absolutely turn into that in their headlines. They would take it and run.”

“That is true. You a journalist?”

“Oh, no. Communications, with a concentration in public relations.”

Flash thinks on it for a second, finishing his hot dog, then the Slurpee. You partially expect him to get angry. It would be a justified reaction. He doesn’t know you and you don’t know him. You can admit that some of what you just said is a bit… imperious. Who are you to lecture him, right?

“You aren’t wrong,” he finally says, repeating his earlier words as the last hot dog carton and Slurpee cup disappear from the counter—thrown in the trash.

“But,” he presses, accepting the change from you—a few dollars—then dropping it into your tip jar. “I know you aren’t going to take that to the press.”

“How’s that?”

He points at you. “Because I don’t think you’re the kind of person to do that.”

“You’re appealing to my morals?”

“Yes. Is it working?”

“Not much work to be had,” you admit. “I was never going to. I was just…”

“Being nice and telling me I should watch what I say,” he finishes, grinning. “Which is true. All true. I just couldn’t help myself. What’s your name, kid?”

You tell him. He extends a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. Welcome to Keystone City. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

A bit bemused, you nod politely and say, “Thanks.”

Before he can say anything else, he visibly tenses, lifting a hand to the Hermes-like wings at his ears, then, in the next blink, he is gone, off to stop someone or something, leaving you with a sharp gust of wind that rattles the windows and knocks the candy from the shelves under the counter onto the ground.

Well, then.

Talk about a first impression.

reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @peachesona @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @kikis-writing-service @sweetistic @soundsfunbutno @ginevraxrogers

[if you'd like to be added to the taglist (or removed), let me know here or in my inbox! ^_^]

#tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #dc comics imagine #tim drake imagine #red robin imagine #dc comics x reader #tim drake x you #red robin x you #tim drake x y/n #red robin x y/n #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #batfam x you #batfam x y/n

684 notes · View notes

sarawritesfics · 2 months ago

Text

₊⊹ his favourite engineer | CL16

✧.* summary ; can the monegasque ferrari driver fix the shy workaholic?

✧.* authors note ; my first ever fic! vvvv excited about how this ones turned out - *written in the third person*

Chapter One

It was silent in the Ferrari garage. Apart from the slight clicking of keys in the office sector.

She was the only person in the building, the bright screen illuminating her light skin and and emerald green eyes as her slim fingers clicked rapidly against the keyboard on the desk in front of her.

Olivia took great pride in her work. Not only was she an engineer for the Ferrari F1 team, but she was one of their best. And she solemnly believed that it was because she worked as often as she possibly could.

She would spend as much of her time as she could working on bits that needed finishing or making adjustments and tweaking things. She was all too aware that by working 24/7, her private life barely existed.

Work, drink coffee, work, maybe sleep, repeat.

But she sort of liked it that way. She was a very timid girl growing up and she carried that shyness into her adulthood. But enjoying being alone most of the time didn't mean that she wouldn't like to find a hobby that she actually enjoyed. (but she very much struggled with that as she was always too tired)

Olivia was at peace when she was at work. It was her happy place. Mainly because she didn't have any hobbies and therefore was utterly bored when she wasn't working.

But she was ambitious, and she adored the fact that it seemed impossible for her to get burnt out or for her excellent work ethic to ever slow down.

She never failed to lose track of time.

"I won't be as late out tonight!" she'd tell her colleagues when they left the building at a reasonable 5pm.

But of course, that never happened.

It was 8am when she arrived to the garage that morning. A Thursday, in the humid Canada. But now she'd lost track of time as per. And the clock she hadn't bothered to check read 1am.

As well as failing to notice the clock, she also failed to notice the whole other person whom had entered the office. It wasn't until she heard a voice behind her that she paused her work for a moment.

"Isn't It too late for you to be working?"

She recognised that deep french accented tone.

It was Charles Leclerc, one of the two Ferrari drivers. Her and him had never really crossed paths, but they had spoken once or twice at team meetings and to her, he seemed pretty alright. To him, she was beautiful.

Olivia carefully spun around in her chair as she glanced at the clock, finally noting the late time.

"Guess I lost track of time," she sighed.

Charles chuckled and shook his head lightly as he moved to lean against the wall next to her, "As always," he crossed his arms over his chest, "You know, It's late. You should be back at your hotel by now. You should've been back ages ago."

"I just need to finish a few things." she replied to him as she fiddled with her hands in her lap.

He rolled his eyes, "It can wait, you know." he said as a small smile grew on his face.

"But what If It can't?" she replied quietly. She always was paranoid that If she decided to skip out on even the smallest of tasks, she would come in the next day and the team would need it desperately.

He dropped his voice a tad lower in slight concern, "You need to take care of yourself at some point. When's the last time you slept?"

Olivia stayed quiet as she had taken a pen off the desk and was fidgeting with the lid.

Charles was silent for a few moments, studying her face before he spoke again, "Seriously? Don't you think It's time for you to call It a night? You must be exhausted."

"I have my coffee to keep me going." she reassured the man in front of her as she softly gestured towards the cup of, now lukewarm, coffee on her desk behind her.

He laughed softly and and reached his hand out, carefully taking the cup from her desk and holding it tight. "Aaaand I'm cutting your caffeine sources for the night. How many have you had?"

"More than three."

Charles' eyes widened slightly in disbelief, a hint of concern crossing his face at the same time, "In total today or just tonight?" he questioned.

"Just tonight. Since everyone else left, and that was around five ish." Olivia replied, looking back down at her fidgeting hands. Unable to meet his gaze.

"You're telling me you've drunk more than three cups of coffee tonight alone? Olivia that's insane! Are you trying to develop a caffeine dependency or something?" He replied, concerned for her well-being more than ever at this point.

"No, I'm staying awake. That's what I'm doing." She said In her usual shy manner, although she was confused as to why he cared so much.

"By pumping yourself full of caffeine? Seriously, do you think that's healthy?" Charles asked her in a gentle yet concerned tone.

Olivia sighed lightly before moving her gaze up to meet his, "Look, I know It's not the healthiest thing ever, alright? But I need to get this work done so If you could please leave me be."

He huffed faintly at her persistence and delusion, "You always put your work above yourself. When was the last time you had a decent night's sleep?" he questioned, crossing his arms again after he put the coffee cup on the desk beside hers.

"Last night, now go." Olivia said quickly as she spun back around in her chair to continue working.

Charles wasn't buying it for a second and knew she was just trying to get him to leave quicker, "Last night? You expect me to believe that? The bags under your eyes tell a different story." He stated, not moving from his spot despite her request.

Olivia ignored him and continued to work, tapping away at the keys in front of her. She couldn't understand why he cared so much. She was just an engineer. Right..?

He let out another huff, annoyed that she wasn't listening to him. He pushed himself up from leaning on the wall beside her and stepped closer, gently grabbing her arm, "Hey, I'm serious. This needs to stop. You're going to work yourself into exhaustion."

"I'm not doing such a thing." She replied without looking up from her computer screen as she typed in all sorts of information and formulas.

"That's exactly what you're doing. You're a workaholic, and it's not healthy," Charles replied firmly, not letting go of her arm, "You're going to burn yourself out if you keep going like this."

She sighed, why was he so persistent? "You aren't even supposed to be in this sector of the garage. Drivers aren't supposed to see engineer workings until they're official plans."

"Right now, that's the least of my concerns," his tone was gentle but firm, "Listen, I care about you. You're constantly working, barely sleeping or eating, it's not healthy."

Olivia's tone was surprised and tinged with slight disbelief, "Why do you care about me? I'm just one of the engineers. I'm no different to the rest."

Charles rolled his eyes, slightly frustrated by her dismissive tone, but his tone remained gentle, "Come on, stop acting like you're just some random employee. You're an engineer, sure, but you're also an important person. We wouldn't have achieved even half of our successes if it weren't for your work."

"Exactly, that's why I'm working now." She replied calmly as she continued to type things into her computer with her free hands, despite his hand being on her arm.

A third huff left his mouth, fed up with her stubbornness. "No, that's not what I meant and you know it. You're working yourself to the bone and it's not sustainable." She turned to look up at him, making his arm drop back to his side. "You need to take a break. You are not a robot, you have limits." He added.

Olivia sighed faintly and after a few moments of consideration she realised this was not a battle worth fighting during her current level of weariness. "Fine. I'll go back to the hotel."

Charles was pleased that she had finally agreed to leave for the night, but his concern didn't diminish. "Thank you. At least that's a start."

1.4k words CHAPTER TWO

ooooh!! what do we thinkkkk??? i'm so happy with how this first chapter has turned out. so excited to see what you guys think!<3

feedback and constructive criticism welcome!

navigation

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #charles leclerc #leclerc #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 x you #ferrari f1 #sarawritesfics

63 notes · View notes

rulerofstars · 1 month ago

Text

they both (have feelings) reached for the gun

oneshot: chase has always known how to push your buttons back in med school, he loved to get under your skin. but now, working together at princeton-plainsboro, things got a bit. . . different. the rivalry cools, and something warmer takes its place. based on the song we both reached for the gun.

pairing: robert chase x reader

tags: slowburn, enemies to lovers trope, fluff (?)

You were used to coming out on top in med school. For as long as you could remember, your academic achievements defined you, and nobody threatened that more than Robert Chase. He was just as competitive, sharp, and ambitious—always one step ahead or right beside you, depending on the day. But unlike you, Chase seemed to coast on some innate charm, always managing to make his successes seem effortless.

It irritated you to no end.

“Another perfect score, huh?” Chase’s playful voice pulled you from your thoughts as he slid his exam sheet onto the desk next to yours. He flashed that casual, smug grin that you had come to know all too well.

You clenched your jaw. “Looks like it,” you said, glancing at his score. Of course, he had aced it too. “Though, I wouldn’t call it ‘perfect’ just yet.”

“You always have to find a flaw, don’t you?” Chase leaned back in his chair, his Australian accent making his words sound more laid-back than they deserved. “Not everything’s a competition.”

“Only with you,” you shot back before collecting your things and leaving the lecture hall.

You didn’t expect to see him again years later. After graduation, you went your separate ways, and frankly, you were glad to leave him in the past. But fate had other plans.

The first day at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital was already nerve-wracking, and when you saw Robert Chase’s familiar figure walking down the hall, your stomach did a flip. He looked older, sharper even, with his blond hair slightly disheveled in a way that made him look more approachable, yet just as infuriating. His eyes landed on you, a flash of surprise crossing his face before it softened into something more unreadable.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Chase said, stopping in front of you with a small smirk.

“I could say the same,” you replied, trying to keep your cool. You were not going to let him fluster you. Not now.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence. You shifted, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you both waited for the other to say something. Finally, he broke the ice. “So, how’ve you been?”

“Fine. Busy,” you answered vaguely. “Looks like we’ll be working together now.”

“Looks like it,” he echoed. There was a brief pause before his eyes flickered over you. “I’d say it’ll be just like old times, but somehow, I think things might be a little different now.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

Chase smiled—a softer, less smug one this time. “I guess we’ll find out.”

Working with Chase was exactly what you expected: maddening. He was still brilliant, still effortlessly charming, and still found ways to get under your skin. But this time, something was. . . different. It wasn’t just rivalry anymore. There was a strange tension between you, the kind that made your heart race when he stood too close or leaned over your shoulder to point something out during rounds.

“You’re overthinking it again,” Chase said, pulling you from your thoughts as the two of you reviewed a patient file one evening. House, has once again, left his paperworks for the both of you to finish. You glanced up, your eyes meeting his in the low light of the office. He was standing closer than usual, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, you could smell his cologne— God, you could feel him.

“I’m not overthinking,” you protested, though the slight waver in your voice betrayed you.

Chase chuckled softly, the sound low and intimate in the quiet room. “You always do. It’s one of the things I… admire about you,” he said, his voice dipping at the end, almost as if he hadn’t meant to reveal that last part.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “Admire?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze dropping to the file in your hand before looking back at you. There was something unspoken between you, something that had been building for quite a while now. And in that moment, it felt like everything hung in the balance.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Admire.”

Your breath hitched slightly, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to fire back with a sarcastic retort. Instead, the room filled with a quiet tension, one that was as familiar as it was new.

Chase’s eyes lingered on yours a second too long before he cleared his throat and took a step back, the spell broken. “Anyway,” he said, his usual demeanor slipping back into place, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late.” He flashed you a quick smile before heading toward the door, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest.

The next day, you found yourself back in the break room, pouring a much-needed cup of coffee. You were still trying to process your feelings about Chase when he walked in, a lopsided grin on his face.

“Look who it is—Miss Perfect,” he teased, leaning against the counter. “You’re up early today.”

“Please, it’s called being responsible,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone light. “Not all of us can coast by on charm and good looks.”

Chase raised an eyebrow. “That’s rich coming from the person who aced the last exam while I was busy trying to save a patient.”

“Are we really going to do this again?” you sighed, setting your coffee down. “Can’t you ever just let it go?”

He leaned in, his expression turning serious. “Not when you keep insisting on making everything a competition. Maybe it’s time we talk about it instead of arguing.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Talk about what? Your inability to accept that I’m better than you?”

“Or your inability to admit that you actually enjoy the challenge,” he shot back, crossing his arms. “You thrive on it, just like I do.”

The tension in the room escalated as you both squared off. “You think I thrive on competition? I’ve worked hard for my grades, Chase. You think it’s just a game to me?”

“No, but you treat it like one,” he retorted, frustration creeping into his voice. “You’re so focused on beating me that you forget we’re supposed to be on the same team now.”

“Don’t act like you’re some sort of saint,” you replied, frustration bubbling over. “You’re the one who always wants to one-up me.”

“Maybe because I want you to see that I’m not just some arrogant jerk. I actually want to work with you,” he argued, his voice rising slightly.

“And what makes you think I want that?” you challenged, crossing your arms defiantly.

“Because deep down, you know it would be good for both of us,” he said, his tone softening. “And because I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t care.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the air thick with unresolved tension. You both stood there, hearts racing, the realization of unspoken feelings hanging between you. Finally, you broke the silence. “You know what? This is ridiculous. We’re colleagues now, not rivals.”

Chase stepped closer, his expression earnest. “I don’t want to be just colleagues. . .”

Your heart skipped a beat. You hesitated, the walls you had built around your feelings beginning to crumble.

You knew exactly what Chase meant.

You knew because you both were holding onto a thin thread for quite a while. And neither one of you has ever had the courage to break free and see how everything will unravel.

A smile slowly formed on your lips, Chase won in this one.

Before you could respond, House strolled in, as nonchalant as ever. “What’s this? A soap opera I didn’t get the memo about?” He glanced between you and Chase, a knowing smirk on his face. “Are you two finally admitting your feelings, or are you just going to keep throwing insults at each other like five-year-olds?”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile crept onto your face. “What do you want, House?”

“Oh, just making sure the hospital doesn’t turn into a high school drama,” he replied, clearly enjoying the moment. “I need my team to be functional.”

Chase crossed his arms, unfazed by House’s jabs. “And yet, you’re here, interrupting an important discussion.”

“Important discussion? More like a public service announcement for the clueless,” House shot back. “But fine, carry on. I’ll just be out here, waiting for the inevitable awkwardness that’s sure to follow.”

You shot Chase a glare, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement at House’s timing. “Thanks for the support, House,” you said sarcastically.

Chase chuckled, the tension breaking as he leaned back against the counter. “Well, at least he keeps things interesting.”

“Interesting is one way to put it,” you replied, shaking your head. “But this doesn’t change the fact that we still need to talk about our work.”

“Fine,” Chase said, the playful glint in his eyes returning. “Let’s focus on that, but can I at least take you out for coffee afterward? You know, to celebrate our newfound ‘colleague’ status?”

You chuckled then considered it for a moment, the thought of sharing a casual coffee with him igniting a flutter of excitement in your chest. “Okay, but only if you promise not to let it turn into a competition.”

Chase grinned, that familiar spark of mischief lighting up his eyes. “No promises. But I’ll try my best.”

As he leaned closer, a playful banter started anew, the air filled with the kind of electricity that only grew with each exchanged word. In that moment, amid the laughter and jabs, you realized you were finally allowing him in—rivalry and all.

#rulerofstars #gregory house #housemd #robert chase #robert chase x reader #robert chase fanfiction #robert chase fanfic

96 notes · View notes

earthnashes · 1 year ago

Photo

Melon slows his gallop to a halt once he reached the break through the trees, and feels a strange sense of Déjà vu; he stood on this particular cliff edge of the island in what feels like ages, but familiarity settles in all the same. He looks out over the horizon into the vast open expanse, down at his map. Up, down, then up again.

As marked, the little human village is merely a day's trip away. Unlike the first time he searched for it on his favorite cliff-- with the jungles and valleys and caves and foes as obstacles-- the only thing between them and the end of their long journey is nothing but the calm sea.

Melon takes in a deep breath. This is it. All of the danger and hardship, finally coming to a close. He feels a sense of relief in it, but as he gives a playful trot in place--and hears the familiar squeal of laughter from Mario as the boy hugs his neck, just like the day they started this adventure-- Melon suddenly feels a sense of sadness.

Despite everything, something in the yoshi doesn't want it to end. Not if it means being separated from Mario forever.

He's come to care for the human cub as if he were his own, and the thought of parting ways with him hurts the yoshi in a way he didn't expect. He needed his new family; he needed to be around his own kind. But Melon knows he's gonna miss him terribly.

The yoshi's breath releases in a heavy, bittersweet sigh, and he allows himself to get lost in the memories of their journey, staring blankly ahead. So preoccupied with reminiscing, Melon fails to notice Mario's laughter suddenly stop. He doesn't notice the patting against his shoulder, growing more insistent the longer he remains still.

He doesn't notice how the light of the sinking sun is suddenly blotted out by incoming silhouettes. Not until it's too late.

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

Part 9 of Melon's Adventure, donezo! Only one more part left before this ark of the story comes to a close!

I'm pretty sure I mentioned this a while ago, but this is where the story ultimately takes a turn to deviate from the canon plot of the game. This is specifically because Kamek and Bowser are not responsible for Mario and Luigi's kidnapping in this version. It's someone else! Can you guess who? The lil critters in the last two parts are hints. ;)

At any rate, giving ya'll this update early! Last part will take a little while because I got ambitious, so there’s likely no update for this lil story next Monday. I’ll instead post something else! Until then, thank ya’ll for taking a peek! ^.^

#Super Mario #yoshi's island #nintento #nintendo headcanon #au #headcanon #my art #my stuff #yoshi #melon #mario #melon's adventure

553 notes · View notes

the-dark-parade · 1 month ago

Text

WARNINGS! THIS STORY CONTAINS... angst + fluff + lilia×fem reader

A/N: Dear souls, my apologies. I have not finished the previous fic yet, and I'm already starting in the next. For the moment, that is paused. Yet again, I hope my work pleases you. If you are not comfortable with this, feel free to leave. If you would like a version with male reader instead, please request it. Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated.

(inspired by @solxamber so you should def read their stories)

Now, the parade completely skips its first destination, and goes to the second!

Part 1,

THE RANT. and how hell began

(if only I didn't read that story...)

-----

"So girlie pop, have you SEEN the new fic going around lately? Like I've been going cray cray over it, and I swear, it's worth it!" My friend gushed, then proceeding to send you the link to it on AO3.

You internally rolled my eyes, already knowing that it's definitely going to be shit. She always does this, recommending you things that are 'top tier' just for them to have 0 kudos or comments other than the one she gives.

You sighed, thinking of just humoring her...

You hoped for the nth time that this wasn't another one of those random shitty fics she found in the sea of fanfictions.

So you clicked open the link.

And guess what you found?

You found the one, the only, (well not the one and only, but you get the gag) the shittest fanfiction of shit fanfiction.

Not the shittest of the shittest, but the writing kinda was.

There were spelling mistakes and bad grammar and usually you would be fine with that. As an experienced A03 and manga reader, you already prepared yourself for such things. But there was at least one. Every. Ten. Words. Or less.

It drove you crazy. And don't even get started on the plot.

Magical fantasy. It's a magical fantasy, you get that right? And by the way, it's medieval. Not that it's a bad thing, you love that troupe!

(live laugh love medieval novels)

BUT.

BUT!!!

Why... WHY WERE THERE FUCKING BOMBS AND MECHANICAL ENGINEERING BLOODY TANKS AND NUCLEAR BOMBS?!?!

Like what the fuck-

Ahem.

Anyways, the main gist of it was that you have the POV of the main character whose name is not even mentioned at all! At all!!

Like you'll think there would be at least 1 scene where it pops out but spoiler alert! It doesn't.

And he's called, what, the Knight of Dawn? The Dawn Knight?!

What kind of cringy-ahhh name and title is that?!

Like okay man, I get that you're being emotionally manipulated by Mr. Humpty Dumpty fatty pants WHOSE NAME WAS EVEN MENTIONED.

"Henrick Istvan" more like a Hen-ick isn't van. Simply disgusting.

You just have to applaud the author's skill for writing horrible characters.

Manipulator, ugly, fat (not fat-shaming he's just that ugly and fat), too ambitious, etc etc etc.

The Knight of Dawn - you're just calling him KOD cause why not - life was absolute hell.

For this guy and his guy, he fought the faes. He went head on to fight the faes and battle in the war as the war commander on the first lines.

He fought, trained, sharpened his weapon, cut down his enemies, maybe some spicy times with his wife, but that was all.

His personality was so...

He forgave Humpty Dumpty for disrespecting and guilt tripping him so many times, so much that you would puke rainbows and sunshines like he was in the story by now!

Classic "too kind and innocent" main character.

All in all, that book was absolutely shit. It was so repetitive, yet you couldn't stop myself from clicking the next chapter.

Well, you suppose there was another reason too, and that said reason was how the chapter flipped to the faes point of view every few chapters.

They were.. much, much, much crueller than the KOD.

But it was natural, knowing they were the villains in the story.

Yet your heart couldn't help but to get drawn to them every word, dynamic, expression and behaviour they said and did.

You may have gotten obsessed with the right hand man of the main villain herself, but switching topics...

And what came next was absolutely jaw-dropping. And not in a good way.

After the tanks came, soon they made a bomb.

A BOMB.

A LITERAL, ACTUAL, BOMB.

And of course, the enemies were wiped out.

The book ended anticlimactically.

The buildup, the plot devices, everything!

All gone.

Man, what was the author thinking?!

And then the story ended there.

RIGHT THEN AND THERE.

From that, you had gotten SO ANGRY that your blood pressure spiked, and-

...

...am I dreaming?

This is an unfamiliar ceiling.

A/N: dear souls, stay tuned for part 2! Thank you for reading if you read.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst fanfic #disney twst #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #lilia x you #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia x fem reader #lilia x mc #you are the mc #i hope this is okay #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader

40 notes · View notes

stuffymcstuffsworld · 4 months ago

Text

$Change$

It's only natural that demons are attracted to greedy individuals. After all, greedy demons were often seen as cunning or ambitious when getting their way. A demon indulged and satisfied is one most pleasurable.

You recline lazily on one of the many lounge chairs of the casino. You could hear the slot machines ringing, the sounds of cheers, and frustration. A comforting and familiar lullaby at this point.

"Hi Gran!" You crack open one eye to stare at your grandson. Razberry stares at you happily. His tail swayed behind him as he leaned over you.

You raised an eyebrow at the little troublemaker. "And what does my little imp want?" You pondered aloud. "I'm sure your grandpa will get you whatever your dark little heart desires."

The boy laughs and shakes his head. "Nah Gran, I don't want anything from Gramps right now. I had a question for you!"

You sighed and closed both eyes. "What is it, brat?" Unlike your husband, you didn't believe in spoiling the child. He received that enough.

"Why did you marry Gramps?" He asked innocently. The question makes open your eyes and fully look at him.

"Cause he gives me money." You say bluntly. "Is that all?" He asked, tilting his head. "What more is there?" You questioned as you sat up to look him in the eye.

He shrugs and throws himself on your lap. "I dunno, Gramps seemed to have a bunch of reasons for wanting to marry you. I guess I thought there would be more. Like reasons you love him or something."

You lean back against the chair once more. Love? Well, that's not exactly how your relationship came to be. It certainly hadn't started that way.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

☆I work all night, I work all day to pay the bills I have to pay. (Ain't it sad?)☆

You remembered struggling to make ends meat. Scrapping by with just a little cash here and there. Only for it all to be spent and taken by others.

☆And still, there never seems to be a single penny left for me. (That's too bad!)☆

You hated it. Nothing ever seemed to be enough. An endless cycle of work and pay. Nothing to enjoy for yourself. So... you had taken action.

☆But in my dreams, I have a plan. If I get me a wealthy man, I wouldn't have to work at all, I'd fool around and have a ball!☆

Dressed in your best. You had walked into this very casino on the hunt. You wanted a better life. That requires money. What better way to get it than to trick some poor sap?

☆Money, money, money, must be funny, in a rich man's world.☆

That seemed like a lifetime ago. You could still smell the cigars and feel the stares of others as you made your way deeper into the establishment. The desperation you had felt at the time.

☆Money, money, money, always sunny. In a rich man's world.☆

Passing the slots you made your way to the tables. Scanning for the perfect target. There were plenty of sucker's to trick. But... your eyes had landed on him.

He was younger back then, of course. Razberry actually reminded you a lot of him. His carefree nature and his need to gamble.

You remember seeing him with a large pile of winnings and a greedy grin on his face. That wasn't what made you pick him, though. You were aware of his high rank. One would have to be an idiot not to know.

You had hoped to avoid him, you didn't need that kind of attention. You settled for some nameless faces that were throwing away their money recklessly. It would be an easy take.

☆ooooohhhhhoooohhhoooh☆

Unfortunately, he had also seen you. He made his way over and stopped that lower ranked demons hands from touching you. You tilted your head eyeing him.

"You can look all you like, but never try to touch one of my employees again. You might lose a hand next time!" He said so cheerfully.

You glanced at him. You were confused but decided to stay silent. After chasing the pathetic demon away he turns to you. "Darling! You're here for your paycheck today, aren't you?"

☆All the things I could do, if I had a little money. It's a rich man's world.☆

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms. The wad of cash he offered was tempting to take. But you weren't an idiot. You weren't about to be in debt to this kind of demon.

You wrapped your fur coat up tighter around yourself. "It's not payday, bossman." Your voice soft and sweet as you placed the money back in his pocket and fixed his shirt.

☆It's a rich man's world.☆

He had been surprised but had a gleeful look in his eyes as he offered his arm. Humoring him, you had taken it walking side by side with him. That's how your strange relationship had begun.

You had been his arm candy. Leaning against him, blowing on dice. Sitting on his lap or splitting the deck. In exchange, he showered you in gifts.

Diamonds, rubies, pearls, anything that would make you shine out on the floor. A pretty doll to distract other patrons. You still didn't really know what this demon wanted from you, but the silent arrangement between you would do.

☆A man like that is hard to find, but I can't get him off my mind. (Ain't it sad?)☆

You honestly thought he'd get bored quickly. After all, he could have anyone on his arm. Yet you were the one he dressed up and took to parties. The one he often showed off.

☆And if he happens to be free, I bet he wouldn't fancy me. (That's too bad!)☆

Somehow, you ended up living with him. How that came to be you still weren't sure. But still, you wouldn't be fooled. You would squirrel away cash and jewelry you could pawn off just in case.

After all, it was only a matter of time before you were abandoned. You weren't capable of believing in the kindness of others. You could only rely on yourself.

☆So I must leave, I have to go.☆

Hidden in the back of your closet was a bag you always kept. Ready to leave at any moment. You often double-check or add to it. But one day...

You stormed out of your closet angrily. Why? Why did he know about it? He's never gone into your room before. So why? Why would he do something like this? Crazy bastard.

You threw the bag full of cash into his face. "Oh? Was it not enough?" Belial asked calmly. You seethe with rage."Not enough?!?! Do you know how much it is in there! You're crazy!"

"Eh? I thought it would make you happy, dear. You like money after all." He looks at you, confused and curious. "I'm not having a mountain of debt on my hands from your loans!" You snarl.

"Loan? This is a gift dearest. After all, loans come with contracts." He sets the bag down and lights a cigar.

☆From roulette to bingo, to win a fortune in a game, to gain a life that's not the same.☆

You seeth. Of course, to a demon like him, it's nothing but pocket change. You can't stop the fury fueling you at this point. "Let's play a game."

He choked on the smoke, looking at you shocked. Seeing your serious face, he lowered it down to the ashtray. "Alright... if that's what you want, sweetheart." You could see the change in his gaze. This was business.

☆Money, Money, Money, must be funny in a rich man's world.☆

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

"Gran? Gran! GRAN!!!" You quickly cover your grandsons mouth glaring at him. The boy gives you a cheeky grin. "What you spacing out for gran?"

You scoffed. "None of your business brat. Now run off and play." You pushed him away with your tail. Relaxing back into your seat alone once more.

... it didn't last long. "DARLING!!!" You groaned. Speak of the devil. You lift your head to see a bouquet of jeweled flowers in your face surrounded by hundred dollar bills.

☆Money, Money, Money, always sunny, in a rich man's world☆

"Happy anniversary, my greedy little imp!" You rolled your eyes and snatched the bouquet away. A small smile graced your face as you traced the jewels.

Belial sets down next to you, and you can't help but wonder. "What would you have asked for that day... if you had won?" You don't have to explain. He knows exactly the day you're talking about.

"Mmm, well, I would have asked you to marry me, dear!" He says cheerfully. "But I didn't mind waiting another decade. You're worth all the effort, my dear."

There he goes again. Talking nonsense. Yet... you can't help the feeling in your chest. The relief, the embarrassment, the hope...

"You fool." Is all you can say. But like always he smiles. "But I'm your fool." He holds up his left claw, flexing his wedding ring. "Forever"

☆Ooooooohhhhoooohhhhooooh, all the things i could do. If i had a little money.☆

You grab his tacky shirt and pull him close. Shutting him up with a kiss. Honestly, what a pain. You grin. But you signed up for a lifetime of it, didn't you? Everything had been your choice till the end.

☆It's a rich man's world. It's a rich man's world.☆

#welcome to demon school iruma kun #mairimashita! iruma kun #reader #lord belial #belial berry razberry #songfic #abba

33 notes · View notes

sameheart-sameblood · 1 year ago

Text

Turn of the Tide

pairing: wojchek x f!reader

summary: wojchek discovers you've disguised yourself as a man to work aboard the demeter and agrees to keep your secret. he begins treating you different than the other crewmates and you confront him about his unfair behavior

words: 2.8k

warnings: angst, mentions of reader's sad background, chest binding, fluff, me not knowing anything about ships and what happens on them

a/n: popping in to say i'm not dead, just depressed and busy lol. truly grateful to this character for pulling me out of my fic slump. im back to once again make a grumpy fictional man way softer than he was ever meant to be hahaha. also guess im obsessed with david dastmalchian now?? didn't have that on my 2023 bingo card tbh

read on ao3!

Sailors believe in many things. A red sunrise can send them into a panic, anticipating the swells and overbearing winds they’re so sure are to come. Red skies at night, however, can make even the most pessimistic crewmate believe there’s fair weather on the way. Captains refuse to set sail on Fridays, sailors place coins under the mast for good fortune and mariners daren’t whistle lest they summon a storm. Many vessels even have a cat aboard, the little creatures seen to bring luck (and sharp teeth to lessen the rat population).

Sailors believe in many things but above all they can agree that a woman on board is bad luck. Which seems silly to you because here you are, a woman who’s been on board The Demeter for many months now. Your presence had not brought ill fortune to the vessel. In fact, the weather had remained pleasant, despite the late summer month’s usual downpours and hurricanes.

Granted none of the crew knew you were a woman. You had disguised yourself as a man, hair cut short and chest bound tightly, but that didn’t change the fact of your sex. A life of adventure on the seas had always called to you but there was no possibility of you being granted work on a ship. The only woman allowed onboard was the carved wooden figurehead of a mermaid that decorated the bow of a vessel. There was no place for you at sea.

Not one to take no for an answer, you found your own way to get work as a sailor. You had spent time aboard trading ships, learning the ways of the trade and earning the trust of the men you crewed alongside. Your last posting had gone so well that the captain of that ship had recommended you to a friend for your next job.

That friend had turned out to be Captain Eliot of The Demeter. Captain Eliot and his First Mate, Wojchek, had asked you a few questions, all of which you answered confidently. The Captain was a kind man who remarked positively at your experience. The First Mate, however, was standoffish, challenging your every answer. Wojchek frowned slightly as the Captain offered you the posting and as they walked away you heard him mutter, “He’s too scrawny, Captain. He won’t be able to pull his weight.”

Captain Eliot had only chuckled, “I thought the same thing when I hired you. Look how wrong I was. You must learn to give people chances, Mr. Wojchek.”

While you appreciated the Captain’s confidence, you made it your mission to show this Mr. Wojchek just how mistaken he was. And for a time, your life aboard the ship was simple. You performed your duties well, befriended the men, took initiative and came to be seen as one of the more ambitious members of the crew. Even Wojchek had to admit, although never to your face, that your were one of the better sailors who had worked under him.

That good will you had earned was probably the only thing that kept the First Mate from throwing you overboard when he found out who you really were. Your secret was discovered when Wojchek had walked in on you unannounced and had discovered you securing your chest binding. After much fussing, he had threatened to toss you off at the next port.

You had pleaded with him to show some kindness and let you stay. Eventually, Wojchek reluctantly agreed to let you remain aboard but warned that he couldn’t help you if the rest of the crew found the truth about you. You had promised him that if you were discovered, you would never let on that he had been any the wiser.

The two of you came to an uneasy agreement and work continued, albeit now with a strained air between you. The men would often remark how the first mate would give you the hardest tasks. You had to agree with them. It did feel like Wojchek was taking out his frustration on you. After one particularly grueling day where he had assigned you to a back to back deck watch, you knew you had no choice but to confront him.

******

You find him in the tiny room assigned to the First Mate of the ship . It was one of the few luxuries he was given on the boat. Whereas you and the other sailors slept where they could in hammocks tied between posts and amongst the cargo, Wojchek had a tiny room all to himself. He even had a porthole, something he takes great pride in.

You hear him groan as you continuously knock on the door, disrupting his peace. Footsteps approach and the door squeaks open. Wojchek grimaces down at you.

“What is it, sailor?”

“I need to speak with you, sir.”

“I don’t have time. Neither do you. It’s nearly your watch.”

“I’m not due on deck for a good while yet.”

“We can talk later. Be on your way.”

He starts to close the door but you push against it, anger surging through you at his dismissal. You barge into his room, slamming the door behind you. Wojchek’s eyes widen for a moment, caught off guard by your boldness. But a moment later, he’s back to his usual gruff self. He glowers, backing away from you like you carry a disease he’s worried is catching.

“This isn’t appropriate.”

“Why? Because I’m a woman?”

“Keep your voice down!”

“It’s not a dirty word.”

“It is when you are disguised as a man on a ship. I’ve kept your secret and I’ll continue to do so. If any of the others were to find out, though…”

“I’ve been sailing with these men for nearly a year. They’re my friends but they’re not the most observant. I think my secret is safe. Besides, if they found out…” you lead off, shrugging your shoulders.

Wojchek’s face darkens at your blasé attitude. “You think these men are your friends? They would turn on you the second they found out the truth about you.”

“That’s not true,” you retort, “just because you hate me doesn’t mean they would.”

“When did I ever say I hate you?”

“You don’t have to. The way you treat me is proof enough. The others may not have realized I’m a woman but they have started to notice you seem to give me the worst tasks and the most watches. They know you don’t like me. Sooner or later, they’ll really try and figure out why. You might be the one that reveals my secret to them without meaning to.”

“I don’t hate you, I…”

He looks at you. Really looks at you, something he tried not to do very often once he noticed how catching sight of you made his heart skip a beat. His shoulders tense as he stares into your bright, vulnerable eyes, so out of place in a sailor.

“You have no idea what a life at sea does to you.” He anticipates the retort you have ready to throw at him and holds up a silencing hand, imploring you to let him finish. “You’ve been on The Demeter for almost a year. No small feat for anyone, man or woman. You’re a good sailor. One of my best. People like you all start out the same, hungry for adventure. They see a life sailing from place to place as an answer to all their problems. And for a time, they’re happy. But eventually, the work breaks you. It keeps you from your family, from your friends. People on land move on while you’re away for months, even years at a time. ”

Wojchek pauses, all the fight leaving him. “When you come back to port, you look for those who promised they’d always be there for you but one day they don’t come back. The ship’s arrival to land no longer brings hope and the sea can no longer mend the hurt that’s inside you. ” He lowers his gaze, perhaps remembering those whom he’s lost over the years.

“The light leaves the men’s eyes once they realize that their world has shrunk to the size of this ship. They have nowhere else they belong. It’s suffocating. They grow resentful. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want to see the light leave your eyes.”

The whiplash of it all makes your head spin. You’ve been so convinced these last few months that this man hates you. Now he’s speaking to you more than he has this whole year. Not only that, it seems the worry over your wellbeing has cost him sleep. More so than a First Mate is supposed to spend worrying about a subordinate…

The light in your eyes? Honestly, you didn’t know that was something you possessed. Maybe a glint of steely determination but you would never have called it anything akin to hope. Your life had always been hard. Being born a woman made life a constant struggle. Being born a poor one made it near impossible.

Wojchek hasn’t moved, still close enough that you can feel the heat coming off of him in the crisp autumn night air that seeps through the tiny cracks in the ship. His eyes, however, keep jumping between your face and the floor. What he’s said has finally sunk in and along with it, his shame of wearing his heart on his sleeve.

You keep your voice low as not to scare him. Seeing the usual rock of a man so skittish makes you approach your next words with the same precision as someone handling explosives. “I was born in squalor to a family that saw my existence as nothing more than a burden. I spent most of my days wondering where my next meal would come from and if I’d have somewhere to sleep. I learned to deal with my lack of means. The thing I never could get over was the fact that I had no one in my life who cared if I lived or died.”

This is nothing you haven’t thought before but something about saying it aloud takes your breath away. A pressure grows in your chest as you fight the emotion that comes with revealing your own secrets. Wojchek doesn’t make it any easier, his once darting gaze now fixed intently on you. It’s your turn to avoid his dark eyes, staring at your shoes as you continue.

“I was never truly happy until I came on The Demeter. I have food, my own bed, purpose, adventure…friends,” the last word almost doesn’t make it past your throat, now tight with emotion. “I finally feel like I have a home.”

It’s only fair that you tell him the whole of your truth seeing how he’d kept your secret for the last few months. He deserves that much. The tension in the room swirls thick but you aren’t sure if it’s because the First Mate is preparing to send you away or not. You wouldn’t blame him if he did throw you off the ship. With you gone, everything could return to the way it was. It might be better for everyone.

You become lost in your own dark thoughts. Wojchek reaches out a hand, brushing your hair, shorn short and shaggy as part of your disguise, off of your face. You close your eyes at the touch, savoring the feel of his calloused fingers skimming so gently across your skin. All too soon, he’s pulling his hand away, remembering himself.

“The Demeter is also the only home I’ve ever known,” Wojchek admits, “It’s a good ship and she’s been strong and true to me. If you’re sure this is where you want to be then you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

You nod your thanks, tears threatening to spill again at the relief of knowing you don’t have to leave. When they begin to roll down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them hidden, Wojchek tuts softly, “Everything will be alright, kotku.”

You may not know the meaning of the word but you can understand from the tenderness in his eyes that it’s a term of endearment in his native tongue. The realization makes you bold.

“It’s not just the ship or the crew that make The Demeter my home. It’s you.” You force yourself to maintain eye contact with Wojchek, fighting the instinct to look away. The though that he may not return the strength of your feelings sends a shiver of fear through you but you need him to understand how you feel.

Wojchek searches your face for some deceit but finds only raw truth. He takes a step forward mere inches between you now. His hands twitch to reach for you again but he holds himself back. Above all else, Wojchek is a professional. Just because he thinks you want him doesn’t mean he’ll take the risk of abusing the power imbalance between you.

Instead, you take the initiative. “May I kiss you, Mr. Wojchek?” It comes out as nothing more than a whisper but he nods. You lean in, teetering on your toes, never realizing how tall he actually was until now. A particularly strong wave hits the ship and you lose your balance. Before you can lose your footing, he has you in his arms.

Wojchek hikes you up, bringing your face level to his. Years of working the ship have made him strong as an ox and he thanks the gods that he finally has good use for the muscles that hide beneath his tunic.

You press your lips to his and it takes you a few moments to remember to breathe. The kiss is trepidatious and sweet but leaves your stomach swirling with butterflies. Wojchek’s grip tightens on you, scared he’ll find that you’ve been some sprite in his dream that the morning sun will chase away. It feels good to be pressed together like this, limbs intertwined so you’re not sure where you end and he begins.

All too soon, he breaks away, gasping slightly. It seems you weren’t the only one who forgot how breathing works. The sight of the usually stern man so undone by a chaste kiss makes you chuckle. Your hand grazes his cheek, running over his stubble. It’s strange to remember that just an hour ago you were convinced Wojchek wanted nothing more than to throw you overboard. Now he’s holding you like he’ll never let you go. How quickly life can change for the better.

The tranquility is broken by the banging of Olgaren resonating through the wood of the ship. Your watch will soon begin and if you aren’t there to take your post, someone will come looking for you. The ship won’t sail itself and you sigh, realizing you can’t put off your responsibilities in favor of staying with Wojchek all night.

The First Mate groans, “Stay a little longer.”

“I’m late as it is!” You smile at his pout. It’s a new expression you’ve never seen from his before and you push him down onto his tiny bed, kissing him once again. Another bang resounds through the ship and you whine, getting back to your feet.

“I’ll make Abrams cover your watch.” Wojchek offers, staring up at you with comically pleading eyes.

“You’ll have a mutiny on your hands if you come between that man and his sleep. Besides, it’s only four hours. You can even come visit me on deck if you like. It’s single watch so there won’t be anyone around to wonder why we’re together.”

“Four hours?” he grumbles.

“You’re the one who assigned me double watch!”

Wojchek leans back, watching you button your jacket, trying your best to look presentable. He can’t help but smile at the commitment to your work ethic. “I’ll be up as soon as you relieve Olgaren.”

You nod, trying to remove the smile plastered on your face but failing miserably. Hopefully Olgaren is too tired to ask questions when he sees you. “See you soon.”

You’re about to open the door when you remember something. “What does kotku mean?”

Wojchek smiles, “Little cat.”

Once again you’re struck by the sweetness of a man so eager to have the world call him unfeeling. The nickname makes sense. You yourself believe that your presence seems to bring fair weather and good luck to the boat. The Demeter might not have a four legged feline to bring fair fortune but you’re the next best thing; positive, tenacious and willing to do anything for the good of the ship and crew.

You grin at Wojchek, who now lounges happily on his tiny bed, looking somewhat feline himself. “Are you sure you want to call me that? A ship can never be without a cat. It’s bad luck. You’ll never be rid of me.”

Wojchek smiles contentedly, blinking slowly, sleep seemingly not far off. The chances of him joining you on deck for the evening appear to be dwindling. You’d be devastated if he didn’t look so adorable. He nods, beckoning you for one last kiss goodbye. “Good. I’ll keep calling you kotku so we never have to be apart.”

******

#brb on my way to become a sailor so i can meet a grumpy first mate of my own #also it's criminal how little of wojchek was actually in the movie :/#wojchek x reader #wojchek x you #wojchek #last voyage of the demeter #allie writes

53 notes · View notes

shelbystales · 1 year ago

Text

Unhealed Love - Part Five

Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Read previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Summary: You and Tommy have history… a long one but to cut the story short he pushed you away, shut you out of his life without giving you a chance to try another path… a path together, but you felt so angry at him that you didn’t want to try it either. Maybe it was better this way… more than ten years passed and you thought you’d had your time to heal but one day was all it took to destroy that idea of getting over Tommy Shelby.

Warning: Season 6 spoilers, swearing, fluff, anxiety.

A/N: comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot thank you very much

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

After a very lovely meal, Thomas led you to his car. You had asked, now for the third time, where he was taking you, but he didn’t answer. He just smirked and told you to be patient.

As he drove to the secret location, you admired the ride and the man next to you. You could barely believe you were here, sitting by his side as he drove. So many things had happened between you, and so much time had passed, but here you were… and to your surprise, it all felt so natural.

You looked over at him as he drove and he looked back at you for a small second before paying attention to the road again.

“What are you smiling at, ey?” he asked with a cocky smile, putting his hand over your leg

“Nothing, I’m just thinking” you answered

“Well, a penny for your thoughts?” he said and you both chuckled, that was a thing you both said to each other when younger

“Who thought we would be here now… I just. I never thought I would see your face ever again, to be honest” you said and laughed

“I always assumed we would,” he admitted

“You did now?” you asked surprised

“Yes, not assumed, but hoped. if not in this life, perhaps in the next one,” he said, making you surprised by his response.

“I don’t want you to die” you blurted out

“We are all going to die sometime, love” he chuckled

“Yeah, I guess” You breathed deeply and dove in deeply inside your thoughts

He didn’t have to go to America. You didn’t need time to think. Every single cell in your body wanted him like he was a sort of drug you were hooked on. But how could you want a man you didn’t know?

Yes, he was still Thomas Shelby. The ambitious man he has always been, but now… he was playing with politics? was that better than drug dealers and the fucking mob? no, they were all the same.

More than ten years separated you both. So many changes happened. Maybe for the best? Or worst. You would have to wait and see. Get to know your Tommy again.

Tommy stopped the car and you looked around.

“Where are we?” you asked as your gaze met the huge mansion in front of you.

“Home” he answered, leaving the car, you followed him. “I was going to help you out” he chuckled when he met you outside the car.

“You don't have to act all gentlemanly towards me, Tommy. Is this your house?” you asked dazzled

You assumed he was rich and you knew he had a good house, but fuck… This was something else. straight out of a fairy tale.

“Yup, but we are coming this way,” he said grabbing your hand and walking through a path of stones delicately fitted one with the other

“It’s a gorgeous house,” you said still admiring it

“I hate it. Sometimes I feel like bombing it into the ground” he mumbled taking a cigarette to his lip and you frowned

“Why?” you asked right before he let go of your hand for a while as he lit his cigarette.

“Too much has happened there,” he answered evasively. You decided not to push, assuming he meant the recent death of his little girl.

As you followed the stone path you could see a barn approaching, in front of it, a man holding the reins of two horses, both black from head to toe.

“We’re riding?” you asked excitedly

“We’re. Take the one on the left, he’s more gentle” he said as you reached the man you fastly recognized.

“Johnny Dogs?” you asked surprised and smiled going for a hug. He hugged you right back

“Hey, y/n. When Tommy told me he was meeting you, I had to come and see it myself. Proof that he wasn’t losing his mind” he chuckled

You smiled at him “The fact that I am here does not discard that, Johnny” you joked making him chuckle louder.

“Alright, ey. Enough. Let's go, love. Help her up, Johnny” Tommy said, taking the reins and mounting the horse.

“They are so beautiful Tommy,” you said as you introduced yourself to the horse you were going to ride. You’ve always loved them, to you they almost felt like mythical beings.

The horses were bigger than the ones you and Tommy used to ride back then when you were kids. They were more musculous, their fur shone with the sunlight. They looked like they cost a bunch of thousands.

Patting the horse on its butt, Johnny wished you a good ride.

“Feeling comfortable? Is he pushing the reins?” Tommy asked

“No, he is doing great,” you said, patting his neck, noticing how soft his fur was

“Good. We are leaving the property now” he said “wanna go any faster?” he asked with a childish grin on his face.

You shook the reins, telling the horse to go faster. “eat my dust!” you yelled at Tommy as your horse started to gallop.

Looking back you saw he had increased his pace and was coming to get you, but he only did it when your horse got tired and slowed down.

“Still knows how to ride, I see,” Tommy said, as you both rode side by side now. You couldn’t stop smiling, this day was going perfectly.

“I could never forget” you smiled “he did a pretty good job too” you caressed the horse again.

“Let's go this way,” Tommy said, “wanna go for a swim?”

“I wouldn't mind it” you admitted. The sun above your head was so strong, you could feel it almost burning your scalp and you were starting to sweat in every place possible.

“Ruby liked to come here,” Tommy said as you entered a little path through a denser forest, the trees making a sweet shadow to walk under.

“And how do you feel about coming here?” you asked “We don't have to if it makes you sad”

“It's ok” he looked at you and smiled “She will be there with us”

Oh… at the same time that's adorable… it's also terrifying. You're not a fan of ghosts… at all. Polly could see many of them. It scared the hell out of you.

As you arrived you saw the small pond with a very light stream. Not big enough for a swim, but big enough to get someone wet to the waist.

“This is nice,” you said as Tommy got down from his horse and walked over to help you down.

“Yeah, it's not big”

“It's enough,” you told him wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking his lips “Thank you for this”

He brought his hand to your hair and gently stroked it. Tommy's eyes scanned your face with a small smile resting on his lips. He gently pressed his forehead on yours and let out a small sigh.

Yeah. You could feel it too. The bond between you both.

With his hand under your chin, he pulled your face up a little until your lips met his and the most tender kiss you’ve ever had started. It was such a slow and passionate kiss. His hands roamed over your body, putting pressure on the right places. Pulling you close, holding you tight. His lips slowly sliding yours. You could feel every soft inch of his warm lips. His tongue gently caressed yours. He felt so good.

After what felt like forever, but not enough time at all, the kiss stopped. He cupped your face with both his hands and gave you a few pecks on the lips, before giving a step back and caressing your blushed cheek with his thumb.

“Let's go in. I need cold water to cool off” he chuckled undoing his shirt buttons

You know what he meant by cool off.

This is his daughter's spot. So probably not a place he would like to fuck you. Looking around you saw a few forgotten toys scattered around. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was really okay with bringing you here. But at the same time, you were happy he did, maybe he is sharing a special place for him with you it’s a way for him to show affection?

Stripping off you followed Tommy, who was already in. Shit, he looks sexy with his hair wet. Will you be able to keep your hands off him? As if that mattered much, Tommy would dictate the pace today and by the way he’s looking at you, eating you up with his gaze, you doubted he would be able to keep his hands to himself.

To your surprise, the pond was a bit deeper than you thought. You were on your knees and the water was up to your neck.

As soon as you walked in, Tommy grabbed you and kissed your neck and breasts.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He whispered in your ears

“You’re not bad yourself, tommy. You aged like fine wine” you joked, making him smile.

He turned you over and hugged you from behind. He rested his back on a few rocks behind you both and you just stayed there for a while. On his arms. Enjoying nature's every sound.

“Tell me something I should know about you, that I probably don't,” you said, breaking the silence

“Hm, why?” he mumbled

“Because I said so. That's enough reason to” you chuckled “Come on”

“Fine. I got us a ticket to a play tonight” he said and you smiled

“Oh, a play? That's exciting. But do you think that counts?” you asked turning to him, to watch him

“I don’t know what you expect” he shrugged

”well, that’s not something about you… it’s about something you did. I will go first. I hate eating anything with a pumpkin on” he chuckled

“Pumpkin? Why?” he asked getting a wet stray of hair out of your face.

“As soon as I left Birmingham, I had no money. Just a small saving, enough to pay rent for two months. So I got a job at a restaurant and sang there once in a while. Guess the restaurant name” you told him but he shrugged “Pumpkindon” he chuckled “Only pumpkin on the menu. Since I had no money, I ate the leftovers every day. I swear to God my skin started to get orange due to so many pumpkins I ate” you chuckled and he with you “ I hate even the smell”.

“That's not pleasant,” he said and you denied it with your head

“Your turn”

“Alright” he sighed “I guess…” he took his time thinking “ I can't think of anything like that”

“That 's ok. Tell me the first thing that comes to your mind. Don't be afraid” you told him, sliding your wet hand through his pale and freckled chest.

“That's the thing. Fear is all i’ve got” he blurted out and as soon as he did, you noticed he wanted to take it back. Showing vulnerability was never his strong suit.

“Fear keeps us going” you shrugged “what do you fear?”

“I don't want to talk about that” he shook his head “this is supposed to be a good day. A happy day”

“It still is” you reassured him

“I’m dying y/n, it doesn't matter. Why burden you with this things if I’ll be gone soon?”

“What? Please don’t say that. Of course it matters, Tommy. The fact that you're dying doesn't change the fact that you are fucking alive now. Feeling things now. Besides if it did… nothing in life would ever make sense” you said, holding his face between your hands

“I could hear Polly saying that” he chuckled, his words making you smile

“You miss her?”

“Every day” he sighed “I think i’ll have to kill her son” he admitted. You could feel he was uncomfortable saying that, maybe he didn’t like that idea.

“What!?” you frowned

“He is working with the enemy. no, better… he is working for the enemy”

“Does he know?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course he does. He’s not a kid. He's a piece of shit”

“Sorry, just... Trying to understand things”

“Right” he sighed again “lets see how my trip to America goes” he shrugged while you processed what he just said “oh, I have one now” you looked at him and smiling with anticipation “I by new shoes at the end of every year and donate the ones I had”

“Expensive perk!” You chuckle “please continue”

“Yeah, it’s. The reason for that was because during my first day working in the parliament, I decided to wear some of my old shoes. Grace used to say they were my lucky shoes. I wore them to all my big meetings back then, while we were married. But, like every old shoe, the glue dried and the sole started to come off. They started to make a loud noise… similar to Woden flip flops” he shook his head showing embarrassment “I had so many meetings and I didn't have time to go home and change my fucking shoes. I was calling so much attention and I couldn’t have people making fun of me. So, I went outside and approached the first man I saw. Luckily he was the same size as me. But I paid him over 100 euros for a ugly shoe. Most expensive shoe I've ever got” you smiled

“Poor thing, you got traumatized. At least, was the shoe good?”

“I don't remember” he shrugged.

“Probably not. We remember the good things”

“Yeah, we do” he nodded and abruptly pushed you into a kiss, making water splatter all over your face “sorry” he chuckled before kissing you intensely

His tongue now invaded your mouth greedly both his hands squeezed your ass against him, almost having you straddle him.

You pulled him closer and before you could have any dirty ideas, he opened his mouth and started talking

“We need to talk about Mosley”

“Now?” you asked out of breath and he nodded “there's nothing to talk about”

“There's plenty to talk about, y/n” he scolded you

You stood up and left the water sitting on a rock right under the sunshine.

“You can't work for him anymore” Tommy insisted

“Tommy, that ship has sailed. I signed a contract” you told him a bit angrily

“Ok, so we have to find a way around it” he said as if it was the simplest thing on the world

“Thomas, there are things you don't want to talk about and I respect you. I don't want to talk about this” you warned him

“Why not?” he asked approaching you

“It's all too soon! Okay? I can't even get the man's face off my fucking head!” you yelled, feeling tears form in your eyes.

“Alright, alright” he said. sitting next to you he put one of his hands on your leg and continued “i’m sorry I pushed you”

Some tears escaped your eyes, but you tried your best to hold it in. This is not the time or place to break down.

“I’ll will figure something out” he said

“Please don't” you mumbled

“I have to, y/n. I can’t leave you with these people”

“I can take care of myself, tommy. I did it all these years, remember?” You said with a bit of irony

“Just because you did, doesn’t mean that you have to. Let me help you” he insisted

“I don’t need your help, Thomas. Enough of this” you tried to put an end to it and by his silence, he accepted it

“Fine, I won’t push it, eh” he raised his hands in sign of redemption “but please” he pulled your face, so that your eyes were on his “if he ever asks anything of that sort again. Let me know. Please, y/n”

“I’ll” you nodded.

“Good”, he whispered and gave you a peck.

“Want to get out of here?” You looked around

“Yeah. Let’s go home. I will race you there. I bet you’ll be last”

“Uuh, fun. What do you wanna bet?”

“If I win, you sleep here tonight” he said

“Oh, so you went easy… I must warn you, Thomas… you might wanna lose” you warned him with a mischievous smile

Tags: @randomfanfics02 @literishdegree99 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @hellstears @vesta-ro @aafiyas @randomfanfics02 @rito4ka @alexxavicry @rosemalachi @bootifuljimin @atomicsoulcollecto @Violet_19999 @lyarr24 @woofgocows @milkshakelol @knowledgefulbutterfly @watercolorskyy @redhead7799 @star017 @watercolorskyy @lyarr24 4 @babaohhhriley @kassieesworld @batgurl42 @musicsweetie21 @lostgirl219 @lothbrokcore @slaypussypop-21 @nyenye

#peakyblinders #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas shelby #blinders #fanfic #peaky blinders #cillianmurphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy #cillian series #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders fanfic

62 notes · View notes

bisquuet · 4 months ago

Text

hi! still alive! AN UPDATE: LONG READ :D no new devlin content since im focusing on my oc comic :( ( speaking of comics. remember that other comic i posted here like once and never talked about it again?? yeah.. ) - lets talk about that. will i ever go back to that comic? -yes, when? i don't know.. i realized i went into the comic very.. unprepared.. or less prepared than i thought i was. so it got me second guessing things and getting confused..!! i have a VAGUE idea of how I want it to go, or atleast i DID, now im not so sure.. I think i need to sit down, splurge out my thoughts and ideas and go from there,, now i technically have a WHOLE post that is done that was supposed to be dropped shortly after the first one. but i thought to myself, oh ill just work on the next update and once im halfway THEN ill drop the second one! i never got halfway. i ended up just sketching more up ahead and adjusting and ''fixing'' things in the second update. making me loose track of time and getting behind, not only i had school to deal with too! so i just have a LOT of storyboarding of pages...that im slighlty afraid of looking at cuz i know that ill want to fix it but ill be unmotivated to actually fix it.. (bad rawr!!) eventually i have to get to it..!! >< ANOTHER major factor of the delay was my confidence, i wasn't satisifed and even frustrated at times when something didnt come out as good as it did in my head. i REALLY like the first update pages! especially devlins scene! but i think i got too ahead of myself and put WAY too much onto my plate, raising expections, of others and myself, mostly myself.... and I was trying to copy to a manga style, rather than convert my style normally into a manga setting, if that makes any sense. so i wasnt.... 'comfortable' drawing.. i dont know how else to describe it! but ever since then and even before, ive been getting less confident with my art and my style, feeling like its ugly or its getting worse. forcing myself to keep drawing, straining myself trying to make something that looks good to me. i have lots of fun and joy drawing for others, the reason i draw is BECUZ i just want to share what i make! as shallow as it sounds i like creating content for others to enjoy! it makes me happy and proud of what i draw! so. when i make something i dont like, i cant bring myself to show it cuz I dont like it.. others may, but that wouldnt change how i would feel about it. i felt that way deeply with the second update, which is why i kept tweaking it,,, and so I just let myself get caught up with other things.. feeling upset and guilty that I kinda just.. abandonded the comic..! saying that ill pracitce and oh ill do that , i Need to do this and this and this when i havent even done ANYTHING! i think, and i genuinely mean this, i think ive only recently started to ACTUALLY do things.! like development for my OC comic, writing for it, making content and sharing about them to whoever would lend an ear! so in a way the seewar comic walked so that my OC comic could run, hopefully.. so, unfortunately ill be focsuing more of my attention on my OC comic, and i honestly can't promise anything. the only thing i CAN say is that i will share the second update that i finished long ago.., no matter how much internal rawr doesnt want to, i feel like thats the first step to overcoming this fear and dread ive associate with the comic, which is something i DONT want. ill be scheudling to drop this weekend since ill be away.. i dont know when ill actively start working on the seewar comic again becuz i genuinely want to finish it and share it, i just have to not be too ambitious and plan out whats necessary. anyways.. now that school is out im finally paying all of my debts and owed art.. its rough but it has to be done. thanks if you have read all of this,, i greatly appreacite the support, from friends and followers, fossils, (thats what my fans are called wink wink) love yall fr <3

#mairuma #m!ik oc #mairuma oc #mairimashita! iruma kun #rwar devlin #welcome to demon school iruma kun #oc #original character #m!ik #oc stuff #ramblings #lowkey a vent at someparts sorry about that!#i just want to draw everything so easily and fast at a time and be silly wahhh #wink if u love devlin wink wink #okay sorry its a4 am #LOVE YOU GUYS #demon oc #also have this devlin sticker thing lol

13 notes · View notes

canmom · 2 months ago

Text

games games'd recently

Solar Ash: the second game by the people who made Hyper Light Drifter. My feelings about it largely align with the reviews: gorgeous aesthetic if not quite as personally a vibe as HLD, the skating flows really nicely, the 'track down all the collectable things' structure was a little frustrating at times but I got used to it, the Shadow of the Colossus-like boss battles were a lot of fun when they worked.

It's a game about a decaying world full of people trapped in cycles of facing their last, worst moments. Most of the people you meet are some kind of animal people - cat people, fungus people, snail space imperialists - and the tone varies between darkly comedic and Meditating Severely On Death. The tone often swings a little pulpy.

So, ultimately - spoilers! - it turns out to be a time loop (something they pretty heavily foreshadow). Your player character Rei is one half of a split being who, after failing to save her world, has been resetting time and time again. The character 'Echo' who you encounter after every boss fight, with a white theme in contrast to your character's black motifs, is the other half of you - the half that isn't convinced to keep trying over and over again to save your planet and is pretty mad at Rei for prolonging this whole miserable existence.

In the true ending finale sequence, Rei finally concedes and turns into a big monster, and you play as Echo (who conveniently controls the exact same as Rei) to pull out the big spikes impaling her, metaphorically allowing her to reconcile with you and allow the world to move on with the other characters .

So like, big old trauma flashback metaphor I guess? The character's inner world is reflected in a big expansive scifi.

The thing that intrigues me most about this game is the tech art. For example, take the cyan goop you surf along in various levels. It looks like it's made of metaballs, and I kind of wonder if they are doing some clever stuff with meshing, or if they're rendering with signed distance fields, or what... in any case, it leads to some very cool level design where you can skate over all surfaces of the blobby space matter, and there is no consistent 'down' direction.

I went looking for how they did this and I ended up finding a half-hour talk from the lead technical artist, which doesn't really address the cyan goop, but does talk about integrating Houdini procedural simulations into the game using Unreal...

youtube

He talks mostly about the process of authoring the game's 'islands' (using a procedural editor tool that runs Houdini to generate the geometry), but does casually mention the clouds becoming 'really cool SDF clouds' in game, so I guess I called it! Really cool that that can run real time without being too expensive. I am definitely curious about how they handled raymarching so many metaballs (assuming they used raymarching, but that is the standard way to render SDFs).

It's kind of crazy that Heart Machine could go from a Game Maker game (even one with fantastic art direction) to a game as ambitious as this one. In practice though... running all over the bosses is cool but with the amount of camera hinting (necessary at the speed you're moving) it kind of feels like a series of QTEs, just figuring out where the next node is and trying to avoid jumping in the black goop, and if you screw up, you have to try again from the start. They're really cool sequences, but from a gameplay perspective, more like a rhythm game than anything.

This game didn't quite hit the same level of 'wow vibes' of HLD for me - I liked the atmosphere of HLD, the quiet and haunted world, the Nausicaa-like monsters. But I definitely enjoyed my time with it, and it's crazy inspiring on a tech art level.

The Thaumaturge: This is the latest game from 11 Bit Studios, of Frostpunk and This War of Mine fame. It's a fascinating concept: an RPG set in Warsaw at the turn of the 20th century, a world of boiling-over social tensions, in which you play essentially a wizard who summons invisible demons salutors to reveal secrets and manipulate people. Your father (also a wizard, you hated him) died mysteriously and now you're back at the family home to try to investigate.

I haven't finished this game yet (nowhere near, it's a big game), but I wanted to briefly comment!

In the first ten minutes of this game, you go to meet Rasputin. From that point I was already pretty much sold.

After sorting out some peasant-y business in what is essentially the tutorial area, you travel to Warsaw where the bulk of the game takes place, currently ruled by the Russian empire. Pretty much as soon as you get off the train, you run into Tsar Nicholas giving a speech, and get caught up in a tense standoff between the Russian cops and Polish workers. I ended up in prison lmao

This is the type of RPG that does have a combat system, and finds some... kinda awkward reasons to get Wiktor Szulski into fights now and again, but it's a pretty intriguing design oriented mostly around applying and exploiting status effects. But really, I'm here for the story, and the period setting. Although 11Bit are not a Polish studio, the game has the option of full voice acting in Polish, which is really sick - apparently they put some effort into giving it period language as well. And even though this is an occult story about wizard business, there's clearly a huge amount of love for the historical setting - there's a bunch of mini sidequests that just take you to look at landmarks and get a little bit of xp from it.

Wiktor is a fun protagonist to inhabit, and the game encourages you towards spicier dialogue options with its system of Flaws - essentially, each salutor is associated with a point of characterisation, such as pride, and if you feed that flaw by picking prideful dialogue options when they're offered, that will apparently make your salutor more powerful. It is certainly reminiscent of Disco Elysium's design with the thoughts as characters, but it's got enough of its own flavour to not feel derivative.

I will surely have much more to say about The Thaumaturge as I progress through it, but honestly, just wanted to shine a light on this game because it's fascinating. This kind of RPG doesn't come along often enough.

Neon White: Only just started on this one. It's exactly what everyone says: an addicting game designed to ease you into speedrunning. I have two friends on Steam who have played it and both of their times are very tight and several seconds faster than what I'm able to do lol.

Everyone also says the plot is a bit ehh and well... they're right. Strangely the tone reminded me most of all of the anime Mahou Shoujo Magical Destroyers: oddly casual, and despite the weebcore vibes, the character archetypes are more American - bubbly psycho girl, femme fatale, frat bro. It's very much aiming for humour, and generally it's not terrible, but the hit rate there is kinda mixed. I'm actually a bit surprised by it - given the aesthetic with the hannya masks everywhere, I was kinda expecting something way more chuuni, but it's quite laid back so far.

But none of that matters really because it's a speedrunning game, it's not about the story! The controls are tight as hell, the levels are elegantly designed to steer you towards picking up on shortcuts with a compelling learning curve, and restarting is incredibly easy. So far I've grabbed Ace medals on every level I've played, but there's a huge amount of room for improvement still. Definitely reminiscent of doing time trials in Mirror's Edge back in the day. Definitely gonna play this more.

#computer games #Youtube

13 notes · View notes

mc-critical · 13 days ago

Text

I'm sorry but no matter how many times I rewatch it, I really can't take Mahidevran's plot-line in E23 all that seriously, knowing that it's just a lot of fuss over nothing. The whole episode presents Gülnihal's stabbing as this big status quo change that has shaken the whole harem and its dynamics to the point this is the first time such a big event gets out of the palace (because Leo has to learn about this assassination attempt on Hürrem because the plot demands it, I guess... Look, it works for amplifying the tragedy to the max, as well as it gives Leo something to worry about alongside finishing the portrait to prepare us for his focus and devastating end in the next episode, but in the grand scheme of things... why this exact attempt?) and shifts in positions and more general caution are exercised (okay, we could argue Ayşe Hafsa's reaction was more severe here than for Ayşe Hatun's murder, because SS's kids, along with their mother, were directly threatened this time, but that brings the question of why didn't she react even more severely to the poison that could literally kill her son???? No, no, I know the answer to that question as well and I get it, but Hafsa's reaction in particular is so flanderized that it almost borders on... completely out of character in order to hammer that exact point home; also, why did no one actually search for Ayşe's killer after E15? The "bonus sympathy points for Hürrem" excuse doesn't really even apply here), but not much comes out of it. Not much that lingers, at least. The event that brought so much fear and precautions is never mentioned again afterwards, the investigation stopped completely (Ibrahim has reasons to stop investigating, but not Hafsa, whom Mahidevran managed to convince of her complete lack of involvement regardless of her suspicions and still doesn't focus on finding Ayşe Hatun's possible killer that many suspected to have something to do with this too!! The plot demands this too, I guess, for Sadika to be the twist for later...), Mustafa was worried about his mother, everyone was worried about Mahidevran's condition and Süleiman confronted her about it, hinting at an exile, and then zip; Gülnihal doesn't even leave because of this, but is randomly married off and that is sooo casually revealed to us after a timeskip, and worst of all, even the one relationship that has to move to a different stage (Mahidevran and Gülşah) doesn't entirely do so, as they pretty much go back to normal after the first episodes of S02! I dare even say it's almost like Mahidevran trusted Gülşah more in S02 than she did in S01, up until everything between them ended in E58, of course! The only thing that came out of this whole ordeal is Nigar being promoted to a baş kalfa as a culmination point to her story (and her dynamic with Mahidevran too, as well as her ambitious nature) that directly lead to Ibrahim finding out about Leo and Hürrem (and not gonna lie, I enjoyed Nigar's rise and payback a whole lot!), but I don't believe this is enough for such a Mahidevran-centric story that took so much of the episode.

Now don't get me wrong, I absolutely adore Mahidevran in this episode. I adore how she's so lost after something she feared happening happened, and totally out of her control this time, how she tries to grapple with it so imperfectly that she slowly but completely spirals in a way everyone else around her is impacted. While with the poison she tries to rationalize what she's done with the hope and convictions that it'll all be over afterwards, in E23 the circumstances are so final that she doesn't see any exit, only the fear and anxiety prevail. And it's really the first time even her supporters seem so unreachable as she has to twist the whole truth even in front of them this time. It's such a compelling character study exploring all angles of that one direction Mahidevran is pointing towards (contrasted with the poison where she goes on so many directions that are also fully explored; I also like the idea that Mahidevran becomes more closed off to servants later on precisely due to that whole incident) but sadly, that's all it is (E23 is why I was so wary of E45 for so long, why should I be prepared for a permanent change of the status quo there given what happened here and how nothing all that new occurs in E45 itself?). One could sure say the same about the poison, but the poison isn't just the most fascinating deep dive into Mahidevran at that point (and the first time we see beyond the emotional status quo she's initially characterized with), it also has an impact that is felt long after the fact: it's actually mentioned constantly no matter how much it appears to be brushed off, it fully sealed Süleiman's rejection of Mahidevran they both couldn't ever come back from, it added to Hürrem's motivations in a lasting way and most importantly, this was the first showcase of Mahidevran regretting something and it is one of the few times she actually does (and I love how everytime her regret is shown, it's always about something done to Mehmet; a great connecting thread!). Even though the show definitely bit off far more than it could chew with the poison, it's obviously there to make a clear point regardless of how said point it's executed (yeah, Ibrahim's reaction makes sense again, but Valide's...) and it's one of the first and most striking times where this point is made, not the gazillionth time when said point has gotten obvious and stale already, which is exactly what's happened by E23. The show also clearly wants us to see the poison as more symbolic than literal (i.e. "You poisoned our relationship, Mahidevran", its subtle religious connotation given how centered on religion E05 is and how Hürrem's prayers to Allah are paralleled with SS leaning on Allah for his conquest this episode and how both are E05's main plots and the episode itself basically ends on a prayer, and guess who the poison is targeting? - oh right!! Hürrem's 'salvation' given by Allah as well, I'm talking crazy af here ignore this btw it's unserious but like it is genuinely the impression I got while rewatching, and yes, even the "poisoned milk" - the poisoned milk is another cause for people like Hafsa to impose that "whore" image on Hürrem, she isn't literally being it but that will be a post for another day) and while this is a part of the show biting off much more than it could chew too, it sure works more than how the show wants us to take E23. E23 brings together all the plot holes up to this point and this is why I forgive it much less.

#magnificent century #muhteşem yüzyıl #muhtesem yuzyil #mahidevran sultan

5 notes · View notes