#he just also falls all over himself for anyone remotely taller than himself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

viastro · 4 years ago

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pacman | yoon jeonghan

ミ★ synopsis: being best friends, you and jeonghan know all there is to the disastrous effects of developing feelings for each other. that’s why you both make a sleep-deprived promise at 5 am to never fall in love with the other. however, jeonghan begins to question everything when he tasks himself with making you and the new transfer become a couple.

ミ★ genre: best friends / to strangers / to lovers!au, angst, fluff, some humor

ミ★ warnings: none !

ミ★ word count: 7,559

ミ★ pairings: jeonghan x gender neutral reader / jun x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys ! here’s my jeonghan oneshot that was inspired by jaehyun’s upcoming kdrama ! it took me a few days to finish this, so it’s pretty long and i would like to apologize in advance AJSKBGKB i also recommend listening to stay here by gaho on repeat for like top tier reading experience HAHAHA i hope you guys enjoy this oneshot, and remember to give jeonghan lots of love <3

Your eyes are closed as your head rests on the table, waiting for the lecture to begin. Your airpods are in your ears, playing a soft instrumental that has you on the verge of drifting off to sleep.

Until Jeonghan sits beside you.

“I thought you slept early last night?” Instead of hearing the piano, you hear your best friend’s voice fill your ears as you open up one eye. The newly dyed redhead is staring at you with an amused expression on his face, causing you to squint at him.

“Yeah, 2 am this time. Personal best for the year so far.” You tell Jeonghan, sitting up from the desk and stretching your arms over your head. Jeonghan rolls his eyes, knowing that is a lot earlier than the usual 6 am bedtime routine you’ve got going on. He sits down in the seat beside you, pulling out his things from his bag.

Yoon Jeonghan, your best friend of almost eight years now. The two of you met in middle school, having been paired up in science class to dissect a frog. Jeonghan was close to tears the whole time while you were practically gagging over the smell through your mask.

Someway, somehow, the two of you ended up sticking together after that unfortunate occurrence. No words were exchanged either, you both kind of just started sitting beside each other during lunch and waiting for each other at your assigned lockers.

In high school it got annoying, as Jeonghan suddenly started to become... pretty. He grew taller, cut his hair short, and had a smirk that made anyone and anything swoon. Well, everyone except you. It got worse when you both entered university, as Jeonghan is continuing to become prettier by the minute.

You can’t count on your hand how many times someone was jealous of how close the two of you were.

However, the two of you made a vow after watching one too many kdramas with the trope of best friends to strangers due to one of them falling in love. It might be a bit drastic, and it was in the wee hours of the morning when the two of you made this oath so who knows if Jeonghan remembers. You don’t even remember most of what you both agreed upon other than the fact that the two of you can’t fall in love.

“Hannie, our friendship is too precious to end like theirs did!” You say through your tears, with Jeonghan pulling out a bunch of tissues to throw at your face. He nods his head in agreement, running a hand through his black hair as he fights back his own tears, only to pause and turn towards you.

“You think I’d like you?” Jeonghan asks with a look of disgust on his face, making you halt your movements, looking at him with a glare. “Hey!”

“I’m teasing you.” Jeonghan says with a laugh, taking one of the tissues he threw at your face and wiping the snot that’s slipped past your nose from crying. You quietly let him, too tired and sad to tell him how gross that is.

“We gotta stop binging kdramas until 5 in the morning.” Your best friend tells you, and you nod your head silently as you stare into his pretty eyes. He lets out a yawn once he’s done wiping away your tears, turning off your TV and placing the remote on the table.

“Come on, lay down, yn.” You don’t move from your position on the couch, still huddled into the corner as you think of what could happen if one of you ever developed feelings for each other.

A small smile forms on Jeonghan’s face at how deep in thought you are, reaching out and patting the top of your head. You look up at Jeonghan, and he tilts his head at you.

“What’s up? I’m trying to tuck you in and you’re staring off as if you’re going through an existential crisis.” You purse your lips at his observation, wondering if you are having an existential crisis. Jeonghan sits back down beside you, and he rests his head on his hand as he turns his body towards you.

“Let’s make a vow.” You say after a moment of silence passes between the two of you. Jeonghan raises an eyebrow, “What kind of vow?”

You turn your body towards his, fixing the blankets on your lap before finally looking into his eyes again. You find Jeonghan’s eyes to be his prettiest feature, as you can always see what he’s feeling through his gaze. It’s how you’re able to tell when he’s lying.

“A vow for us to never fall in love with each other.” You state, and you watch as mirth pools Jeonghan’s eyes while his lips curve up into an amused smile. “I don’t think we can make a vow on something that’s out of our control.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, and Jeonghan watches as your eyes brighten when another idea comes to mind. He’s a bit taken aback when you suddenly reach out and grasp his hand, holding it tightly between your warm ones.

“Then we make a promise.”

“That’s the same thing as a vow-”

“No, shut up. Let me explain.” You say, and Jeonghan chuckles. He motions with his hand for you to go on, and you let out a breath.

“If one of us catches feelings, then we end our friendship.” Jeonghan stares at you with a serious expression on his face, and you find that you’re afraid at how fast the amusement left his eyes. Jeonghan leans in closer towards you, “You’d want to end our friendship just like that?”

“Nono! I mean like, for a certain amount of time. Essentially we’d just ghost each other until our feelings go away, and the other can’t intervene.” You explain, slightly shoving Jeonghan away, but you see that he still looks a bit put off by your idea.

“I’d feel like ass if you just left without a word, though.” Jeonghan tells you, and you slowly nod your head, understanding where he’s coming from. You let out another sigh, looking up at the ceiling.

“Pacman.” You peek at Jeonghan, wondering why he mentioned your guys’ favorite game when you were children. He gives you a tired smile, “It’ll be our code word. Instead of leaving without a trace for a couple months, or confessing our feelings and then leaving, we can just say Pacman. It’s not directly saying I love you, and who knows if either of us will remember the word. It’s the perfect thing to say before disappearing for a bit.”

You slowly nod your head, finding that it seems like the best option thus far. And so, out of your 5 am fatigue, you hold out your pinky towards your best friend.

“Pinky promise that you won’t fall in love with me.” You mutter sleepily, and Jeonghan chuckles, reaching out and intertwining his pinky with yours.

“I pinky promise that I won’t fall in love with you.” Jeonghan responds softly, pressing his thumb against yours, sealing the promise.

And now here you both are, still going strong after that sleep-deprived promise you made when you two were barely 16 years old.

You let out a yawn, covering your mouth with your hand while Jeonghan scrolls through his phone to try and show you the meme he saw earlier. Only for you to pause your movements when someone enters the auditorium.

“Look, I found it.” Jeonghan says happily, about to hold out his phone towards you, only to pause, seeing that you’re distracted. He turns his head in the direction of your awed state, only to find a handsome guy standing at the doorway, looking for a seat.

Jeonghan slowly turns back towards you, finding you still staring at the man. He’s never seen this expression on your face before when you looked at someone else, but he knows this look. And so, he lets out a grin, before standing up from his seat and walking down the steps.

Your eyes widen when you suddenly see Jeonghan’s red hair flash before your eyes, and you internally scream when you watch him walk up and bow to the incredibly pretty man.

“Hi! I’m Yoon Jeonghan.” This seems to startle the guy, but his eyes almost immediately turn up into an eye smile as he bows back in Jeonghan’s direction.

“Hi, I’m Wen Junhui.” Jeonghan grins back, before motioning over towards where you and him are seated.

“Oh God.” You mutter to yourself when the pretty man looks up at you, causing you to look down at your phone and check to see if you look at least half decent. You internally scream when you look back up to see him and Jeonghan walking up the steps, and you would’ve flipped Jeonghan off if it weren’t for the pretty guy looking at you.

“Yn! This is Wen Junhui, he’s a transfer.” Jun smiles at you, and you find yourself smiling back at him, warmth flooding your chest at the precious sight. “Hi yn, you can call me Jun.”

You nod your head, “Hi Jun, let Jeonghan and I know if you ever need any help!”

He sits down in the seat besides Jeonghan and bends down to take out the things from his bag, giving you enough time to quickly smack the back of Jeonghan’s neck. He squeaks, turning and shooting you a glare, only to stop and give Jun a reassuring smile when the pretty transfer looks at him in concern.

“Are you okay?”

Jeonghan nods his head, giving Jun a thumbs up. He glances towards you once more when Jun goes back to preparing his seat, only to find the slight sparkle to your eye as you stare at the transfer student. Jeonghan slowly looks away, knowing exactly what that sparkle will signify in the future.

Jeonghan walks towards the square with both airpods in, hands holding heat packs in the pockets of his coat to keep warm. He notices you sitting on the bench, bundled up in your large jacket as you wait for him, causing a small smile to form on Jeonghan’s face.

He’s about to call out your name, only to halt his movements when he sees Junhui heading the opposite way. Jeonghan looks between the two of you, knowing that you have a raging crush on the pretty man but won’t initiate anything, and that Junhui might possibly be interested in you as well.

It’s been a month since Jun transferred to Seoul National University, and Jeonghan’s slowly been trying to push the two of you together. However, he does it so that it’s not too obvious for the sake of him not getting yelled at by you.

When you yell, you yell for a long time.

And so, being the kind friend that Jeonghan is, he quickly walks unnoticed past you, and places both hands on Jun’s shoulders without a noise of greeting. This promptly startles the transfer student, considering the brief look of fear on Jun’s face, only for it to morph into a smile when he looks into Jeonghan’s eyes.

“Jeonghan!”

“Jun! Are you done with your lectures today?” Jun nods his head in response, and Jeonghan grins at his answer. He turns and points towards you, making Jun peek over his shoulder to see you practically shaped like an onigiri, with your shoulders to your chest and your large winter jacket wrapped around you. “Yn and I were just about to go and get lunch, wanna join?”

Jeonghan notices Jun’s eyes become a bit brighter when he looks at you, before he turns back to look at him and runs a hand through his hair. “That sounds great! I’m starving.”

Jeonghan nods his head, before turning towards you and calling out your name. You glance up at the sound of Jeonghan’s voice, looking over to find him and Jun standing a few feet away from you with small smiles on their faces. You shoot your best friend a look, and his smile simply grows wider as you stand up from the bench and walk over to the two.

“Jun! Are you joining us for lunch today?” You ask when you make it over to them, secretly slapping Jeonghan’s side for being a goddamn whore. Jun smiles and nods his head while Jeonghan inconspicuously rubs his waist to ease the sting from your smack.

“Where do you guys wanna eat?” Jun asks as the three of you begin walking out of the square. You think to yourself for a moment while Jeonghan stays quiet, letting you decide on where the gang will have lunch. You let out a grin when you finally think of where to eat, glancing at the two before saying, “Thai food!”

Jeonghan and Jun nod their heads in agreement, and you celebrate quietly between the two. You squeeze the heat packs in your pockets when Jun turns and looks at you, causing you to look back at him.

“What do you usually order at Thai restaurants?” You purse your lips at Jun’s question, fighting back the warmth from rushing to your face at the way he’s staring at you with so much interest. “It depends on my mood, to be honest.”

“Wanna order for me when we get there then? I’m not sure what to eat.”

“Horrible idea. What if I choose something you don’t like?”

“Then I’ll keep eating it, yn.”

“Jun!”

Jeonghan watches as you and Jun unconsciously walk faster until the two of you are now ahead of him. You are in your own little world as you bicker, but Jeonghan knows there’s no malice in your guys’ argument with the way you’re both smiling brightly at each other.

You pause when you don’t feel that familiar presence beside you, and you turn your head to find Jeonghan standing a bit far behind you and Jun. You squint at your best friend, before pulling your hand out of your pocket and waving him over.

“Hannie! What are you waiting for? Come here!”

Jeonghan tightly squeezes the heat pack in his pockets, before nodding his head and walking a bit faster to catch up to you guys. It’s only when he’s standing right beside you that the three of you begin heading towards the Thai restaurant again.

As the frigid temperatures hit him, Jeonghan’s left wondering why the heat packs no longer offer him any warmth as he watches you laugh with Jun.

Jeonghan sits beside you on your couch, invested in the new episode of the kdrama the two of you have been keeping up with. He turns his head when your phone lights up, and his eyes land on the contact name.

jun <3

“You got a text from Junnie.” Jeonghan says, taking a piece of popcorn and placing it into his mouth. You look away from the TV, picking up your phone and reading the message. Out of the corner of his eye, Jeonghan watches the dopey smile form on your face as your thumbs type out a text to your crush.

Suddenly the popcorn feels a bit too dry to swallow as Jeonghan reaches over to take a sip of water. It only goes down smoothly when you place your phone back down on the couch and adjust the blankets over you and Jeonghan.

“I love when the main actress stands up for herself.” You mutter, taking a few pieces of popcorn and tossing them into your mouth. Jeonghan nods his head in agreement, watching as the female lead starts cursing back at the man.

“There’s just something so satisfying about women proving that they don’t need a man to protect them. They need to show this more in kdramas, break the stereotype, ya know?” Jeonghan adds, and you smile softly, pride swelling in your heart at the simple sentence. He turns his head and catches sight of your soft smile, and he feels the undeniable feeling of warmth from the beauty of it.

A sudden bright light makes him glance down at the blankets, finding that your phone has lit up again. You notice as well, picking up the cool metal and reading the new text from Jun. Jeonghan watches as your mouth drops open and how you immediately stand up from the couch.

“Did something happen?” Jeonghan asks, only for your phone to be shoved directly into his face. The redhead curses quietly, muttering about how you need to update your phone to be able to turn on dark mode, before reading the message on the screen.

“He asked me on a date! Me! Wait, is it a date? What should I say?! What if he didn’t mean to send me that text?? Oh my God, I’m so nervous I could actually pee my pants.” You ramble, and Jeonghan’s eyes slowly trail up to your face, watching as you mumble to yourself and begin to pace around the small living room. He bites the inside of his cheek, before grabbing your phone out of your hands and typing out a message. Your eyes widen when you watch your best friend’s thumbs move swiftly across your screen.

“Wait, Yoon Jeonghan!”

“There.” Jeonghan states, handing you back your phone. You stare at the screen in silence.

jun <3: i was wondering if you wanted to go to the aquarium together on saturday? I remembered when you told me how you’ve never been, and the aquarium is having a christmas special even tho it’s november :3

It’s totally fine if you don’t wanna go by the way

you: that sounds great ! i can’t wait <3

jun <3: yay! I’ll pick you up at around 4 on saturday ~

Jeonghan watches as your eyes slowly trail up towards his face, and he wonders whether you’re gonna choke him or scream at him. Or both.

Jeonghan thinks it’s both.

It comes to his surprise when you instead wrap your arms around his frame, squeezing him tightly. Jeonghan slowly reciprocates the hug, cradling your head in his hand like he always does.

“Thank you, Hannie.” You mumble, and Jeonghan bites the inside of his cheek at the softness to your voice. He lets out a smile, nodding his head, “Of course, yn. Anything for you.”

“Did you know that you smell good?” Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at the random question, and the rumble of his chest from laughter makes you giggle in response, squeezing him tighter.

“Really? What do I smell like?”

You purse your lips in thought, before letting out a deep sigh. You close your eyes as you quietly say, “You smell delicate, it reminds me of Spring.”

Jeonghan’s heart thumps against his chest as he pats your head, “How can I smell like a season?”

“I don’t know. You just do.”

You pull away from the hug to flash Jeonghan a bright smile, and you watch as his features brighten at the sight. You rub the back of your neck, about to sit back down to finish the drama, only to pause when you realize something.

“Jeonghan!”

“Yn!”

“I have to choose an outfit for Saturday! Oh my GOD!” You sprint out of the living room and to your bedroom, while Jeonghan remains in the living room. He listens to the sound of your screeches, and the chaotic noises of clothes being pulled out of your closet.

“Hannie, come help! I’m not that stylish!”

Jeonghan bites his bottom lip, turning to look at the long forgotten drama. He lets out a sigh, bending down and picking up the remote, turning off the TV. The screen turns black, leaving him to stare at his reflection in the monitor.

It’s as if Jeonghan is having a staring contest with himself as he stares at the TV monitor, thinking of the answer to a question that he’s not willing to ever admit. He only looks away when he hears the call of his name, pursing his lips at the thoughts he was thinking.

Jeonghan pushes everything in his brain away, letting out a small smile when you walk out of your room with your head stuck in a hanger. You scratch the top of your head, confused as to how you even managed to fit your head through the small space.

“Please help.” You say, and Jeonghan chuckles, nodding his head and walking over towards your room.

“Should I ask how you even managed to get your head through the hanger?”

“No.”

“Good, because I didn’t plan out how I’d react if you told me about it.”

Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair as he looks out the window of his apartment, seeing the grand view of the city of Seoul at night. He tilts his head at the sight of a few fireworks shooting up into the sky, even though there’s about ten minutes left until it’s the new year.

“Hannie! My parents want to see your red hair.” He turns his head at the call of his name, finding you sitting at his kitchen table on FaceTime with your family. He grins and walks over to you, resting his hand on the back of your chair as he puts himself in the frame.

“Hi auntie and uncle! Happy New Year!” Jeonghan greets with a smile, and the two of you let out a laugh at your mom’s reaction to his bright hair color. He runs a hand through his hair, sending your mom a thumbs up in the camera. “Do you like my hair?

“I’m honestly just surprised that you pull it off so well.” Your mom responds, and you chuckle. Your dad nods in agreement, giving Jeonghan a thumbs up with a proud smile on his face. Grinning, you reach out and ruffle Jeonghan’s hair.

“Of course Hannie can pull it off! He’s one of the prettiest guys ever, I wouldn’t be surprised if he were able to rock green hair.” Your mom and dad laugh, while Jeonghan just stares at you for a moment, feeling slightly empty when you pull your hand away. Your mom lets out a mischievous smile, and you raise an eyebrow at it. “What are you planning, mom?”

“Since you think Jeonghan is so pretty, why aren’t you dating him yet?” Warmth immediately floods your face, and you let out a whine, causing your mom and dad to holler over in laughter. You turn to Jeonghan to apologize, and he just gives you a small smile, nodding his head in understanding. When you glance back at your phone to scold your parents, Jeonghan’s smile turns bitter, and he looks away from your screen to hide it.

You and Jun have been dating for a month now.

“I’ll talk to you guys later! Jeonghan and I have to take our annual New Year’s photo.” You say, waving at your parents with a bright smile on your face.

“Bye Jeonghan!” Jeonghan glances back over at your phone, finding your parents waving at him with happy expressions on their faces. He forces out a smile, waving back at them with the same energy they’re giving him. “Yn and I will try to visit soon!”

“Yeah you better!” You let out a laugh at your dad’s comment, waving at them one last time before ending the call. You lean back into the chair, closing your eyes to try and muster up some energy.

“Your parents’ love suck all the life out of you?” Jeonghan asks with an amused expression on his face, and you wave him away with your hand, eyes still closed as you do so. He chuckles, reaching out and pinching your cheek before walking back over to the couch.

“Are we gonna take a picture or what?” You open your eyes to see Jeonghan already preparing the polaroid camera, and you stand up and walk over to him. You rest your chin on his shoulder, making Jeonghan stiffen slightly, and he hopes you didn’t notice. However, you’re observant.

“Why’d you freeze? Oh! Is your shoulder bothering you again?” You ask in concern, immediately stepping back and assessing Jeonghan’s shoulder. He watches as you begin to ramble about how he should go to the doctor about his shoulder pain as you poke and prod at him. Biting the inside of his cheek, he moves his shoulder out of your reach, “It’s fine, I just slept wrong last night.” He lies through his teeth, and you stare into Jeonghan’s eyes as your hands slowly fall to your sides.

His deep brown eyes bore into yours, seeing a reflection of his own as he does so. After a moment of searching, you look away with a sigh.

Jeonghan’s eyes are your favorite feature of his, as his true emotions always show through them. They’re his most honest feature, you’d say.

so why can’t I tell if he’s lying right now?

You shake your head, before looking back at Jeonghan with a smile. You nod your head, reaching out and softly patting his shoulder as a means to not accidentally hurt him. “Let’s take the photo, I need a post for Instagram.”

Jeonghan scoffs, holding up the polaroid camera, “You only want to take photos with me so that you get more likes on Instagram.”

You smile, peace sign up towards your eye as you nod your head, “Of course. If I have a pretty boy beside me in my photos, then everyone will like them!”

Jeonghan smiles, winking into the polaroid camera as the flash goes off. The film photo immediately pops out, and you take the small photo and wave it around. Jeonghan purses his lips, before holding up the camera again.

“Let’s take one more.” He says, and you raise an eyebrow, surprised that he wants to take another photo with you. You place the polaroid down onto the coffee table before posing without question, as you’re afraid he will immediately take back the request.

“1, 2, 3-” Your hand makes your way to Jeonghan’s face, squishing his cheeks when the flash goes off. Jeonghan turns to face you, finding you giggling happily as you take the developing polaroid, flapping it around a bit before placing it onto the coffee table.

“I wanted to look handsome in that one.” Jeonghan whines, and you roll your eyes.

“You’re always handsome, be quiet.” You respond, and Jeonghan opens his mouth to argue, only to stop when you glance at the time.

“15 SECONDS!” You screech, grabbing the noise maker and confetti, handing one to Jeonghan in the process. You jump up and down as the two of you begin to count down.

“10!”

“9!”

“8!”

“7!” Jeonghan glances at you, feeling as if time is starting to slow down as you excitedly dance while counting down.

“6!”

“5!”

“4!” You laugh happily, doing a small dance as you prepare the confetti in your hand.

“3!”

“2!” Jeonghan feels his heart sink in his chest when you turn to face him with a bright smile, seeing all the stars in your eyes as you stare at him.

“1!”

“Happy New Year, Hannie!” You squeal, throwing the confetti up as high as you can into the air. Jeonghan swallows, noticing how dry his throat has become as he takes in the sight before him. Time comes to a slow as the fireworks explode in the air behind you through the window, while the confetti sparkles fall around the two of you. All the background noise drowns out, all of his senses honing in on you and you only. You look nothing short of ethereal in this moment.

The realization of what he’s been denying for the last three months comes to the surface as he stares at you, and he wishes for nothing more than for it to not be true. That it’s just a fluke.

However, when you turn back towards him and wrap your arms around his frame, greeting him Happy New Year once more, Jeonghan knows it’s the truth.

“Happy New Year, Yoon Jeonghan.” You say softly with a grin, and Jeonghan slowly wraps his arms around you, biting the inside of his cheek as he closes his eyes.

“Happy New Year, yn yln.” Jeonghan mutters, and you pull away to pull out your phone from your pocket. You wave it around Jeonghan’s face with a mischievous smile, “I’m gonna go greet Jun a happy new year, I’ll be back in a sec.”

Jeonghan squeezes his fist at his side, nodding his head as he gives you a smile. “Tell the handsome man I said Happy New Year.”

You give the redhead a thumbs up, before dialing Jun’s number and heading towards the bathroom. Once the door closes behind you, Jeonghan reaches up and clutches his chest, biting his bottom lip harshly as he looks down at the floor. He notices the now developed polaroids, and lifts up the one where you're squishing his face.

You’re staring at Jeonghan with stars in your eyes as you smile widely, hand squishing his cheeks. Jeonghan purses his lips, before pulling out his wallet from the back of his jeans, placing the polaroid into the slot before his driver’s license.

The photo reflects back at him underneath the light from the fireworks behind him, and Jeonghan lets out a breath. Running a hand through his hair, he closes his wallet and places it back into his pocket. Just in time too, as he looks up when he hears your bathroom door open, noticing the happy smile on your face.

“Ready to make midnight snacks to celebrate the new year?” You ask with a wink, and Jeonghan throws on his best fake smile, nodding his head.

“Of course I do, don’t ask me no stupid fucking questions.” Jeonghan teases, and you let out a laugh at the sentence, sending the redhead’s heart into a frenzy.

“Let’s go make food then.” You say, turning and heading towards the kitchen. Jeonghan slowly walks after you, a sad smile on his face as he watches you dance as you walk.

Just one more day. Jeonghan thinks to himself, before speeding up his pace and wrapping his arm around you. You turn to look at your best friend, and he smiles at you.

“Let’s make rice krispy treats.” Jeonghan suggests, only to let out a laugh at how your face brightens just at the mention of the delicious dessert, and you nod your head excitedly. You lead him to his own pantry, and begin explaining who’s gonna do what as you take out all the ingredients. All while Jeonghan watches fondly, knowing that he needs to ingrain this moment in his brain.

Just one more day with yn.

Jeonghan shuffles in front of your door, dreading what’s going to happen as soon as he knocks on the surface. He lets out a sigh, resting his head on the wall for a moment, questioning everything.

What if I just pretended?

I could just walk in and we could hangout like we usually do, like nothing has changed at all.

No.

Jeonghan lifts up his head, raising his fist and knocking on your door without a second thought. He bites the inside of his cheek when he hears you say, “Coming!”

Your front door opens after a moment, and his eyes trail over your outfit. An oversized vest over a white dress shirt paired with straight leg pants and sneakers to match. Jeonghan’s eyes slowly go back towards your face, just to find you staring at him with surprise painted over your features.

“Hannie! I wasn’t expecting you, what’s up?” You ask, and Jeonghan stays quiet for a moment. He gestures to you, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Are you going somewhere?” Jeonghan asks, and you nod your head. Letting out a smile, you show off your outfit and do a timid spin for emphasis on the oversized vest. “I have a date with Jun today, you like the fit?”

Jeonghan doesn’t respond, instead squeezing his fist in his pocket. He looks down the hallway, making you look in the same direction as well. You find Jun walking towards your apartment, and you let out a smile.

“Speak of the Devil. Did you need something from my apartment? You can just lock up when you’re done.” You tell Jeonghan as you turn back towards him, and you find the rest of the words die in your throat at the sadness in his eyes. You reach out to grasp his arm, and he takes a step back.

“Hannie, what’s wrong-”

“Jun is lucky to have you.” Jeonghan cuts you off, and you stare at him as he struggles to utter the next word. He turns back to look at Jun, seeing that he’s almost to your door, having not noticed Jeonghan yet.

“Jeonghan?” You ask, and you watch as the pretty man turns back to look at you.

“Pacman.” Jeonghan breathes out, and you feel your heart stop, unsure of why.

He turns around and walks away without another word, and your eyebrows furrow in confusion. You step out to ask him what he means, only for Jeonghan to stop and turn around himself. He gives you a bittersweet smile, waving his hand at you.

“You look beautiful, yn. Have fun on your date.” And with that, Jeonghan turns around and walks away, sucking in a deep breath to try and hold back the tears that threaten to escape. Leaving you alone by your doorway, confused.

“Was that Jeonghan?” You turn your head at the sound of Jun’s voice, and he gives you a soft smile. You nod your head slowly, turning to look back in the direction that he left in. “Yeah, he seems sad though.”

“Wanna go and check on him?” Jun asks, and you bite the inside of your cheek, remembering the tickets Jun bought in advance for the two of you to go to this garden. Regretfully, you shake your head and give Jun a warm smile. “It’s okay, I’ll check on him after our date.”

You quickly grab your phone and bag, locking the door to your apartment and turning to Jun with a grin. He extends his hand towards you, and you intertwine your fingers with his. The two of you walk towards the elevators, but you’re left in confusion as to what Jeonghan meant, and why he was so sad.

Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and months eventually turned into a year.

You and Jeonghan haven’t spoken since the day he stopped by your apartment and said that cursed word.

You tried to reach out once you realized what he meant, even stopping by his apartment multiple times to just get him to say something, anything. You were quite literally talking to a door, as there was never a response. There were times that you fell asleep in front of his apartment on the floor, and would wake up in Jun’s arms as he carried you back to your own place.

Many tears were shed, hearts were broken on both sides as you lost not only Jeonghan, but Jun as the two of you broke up four months after Jeonghan left.

“I’ll always love you, but I know that your heart belongs to someone else.” Jun tells you softly, and you bite the inside of your cheek. He gives you a small smile, grasping your face, making you look down at the floor as he presses one last kiss to your forehead.

Jun pulls away, and pats the top of your head. “Don’t be a stranger, yn. I love you.”

You wanted nothing more than for Jeonghan to be there with you at that moment, to help you take the baby steps in healing, but you couldn’t get through to him no matter how much you tried.

It was what you two promised to do, anyways.

He even managed to avoid you on campus successfully, you couldn’t be surprised though. The university is huge, you wouldn’t have been able to find him if you tried, which you did. He stopped frequenting all the places the two of you used to go to, it was as if he disappeared.

And the hole in your heart grew and grew the longer Jeonghan was gone.

Now here you are, a year later, sitting on a park bench as you let the music flow through your airpods. The weather is nice, a contrast to the rain that’s been pelting the city of Seoul for the last few days. The sky is blue, and there’s a slight wind to cool you down from the warmth of the sun. You tilt your head back, letting out a sigh as you remember the pile of assignments sitting on your desk back at home.

And so, placing your hands into the pockets of your hoodie, you get up off the bench and begin to walk down the path in the direction of your apartment. Your eyes stay on the ground the whole time, just trying to focus on the soothing piano as you ignore the other people walking by you.

You only look up when you get to the crosswalk, seeing a crowd of people across the street from you. Your eyes trail along the numerous faces you see, and you’re about to look back down when you lock eyes with a familiar pair.

“Jeonghan.” You breathe out as he stares at you with the same amount of shock written across his face. His red hair is now dyed black, emphasizing his sharp features. His eyes still hold all the warmth that you remember as he stares directly back at you, making the pain in your chest more evident at how much you miss him. You bite the inside of your cheek harshly at how much prettier he’s become, wondering how he’s capable of doing so as time passes.

The crosswalk signal turns green, but you remain where you are for a moment, as does Jeonghan. The reminder of the promise the two of you made flooding through your mind.

“Pacman.” You peek at Jeonghan, wondering why he mentioned your guys’ favorite game. He gives you a tired smile, “It’ll be our code word. Instead of leaving without a trace for a couple months, or confessing our feelings and then leaving, we can just say Pacman. It’s not directly saying I love you, and who knows if either of us will remember the word. It’s the perfect thing to say before disappearing for a bit.”

Jeonghan begins to cross the street first, and you look down at the road as you step off the sidewalk, melting in with the crowd as you walk in Jeonghan’s direction. Your heart is breaking within your chest as you do so, knowing that you have to keep the promise you made with Jeonghan.

The two of you pinky swore, after all.

Tightly, you squeeze your fists at your side as the piano instrumental reaches its climax in your ears. Numerous questions flood your brain as you reach the middle of the street.

Is this it?

Are we never going to be best friends again?

Has he already passed me?

Does…

Does he still love me?

All thoughts rush out your brain when a hand grabs your wrist unexpectedly, the sudden jerk of your arm making your earbud fall out of your ear and onto the road, the soft key sounds of the piano disappearing with the wind. You open your mouth to protest, but the words die in your throat when you’re pulled into a tight embrace. It’s only when the familiar scent of Spring fills your senses, that you immediately wrap your arms around Jeonghan’s frame, tears filling your eyes from the overwhelming feeling of relief.

“Hi, yn.” Jeonghan mutters into your ear, tears falling from his own eyes as he holds you tightly, never wanting to let you go. You let out a sob at the sound of his voice, closing your eyes as you clutch onto him just as tight, scared that he’ll disappear without a trace again if you let go.

And so, through your tears, you whisper, “Hi, Jeonghan.”

“Yn! It’s only a few more minutes until midnight!”

“Coming!” You shout back, checking over your reflection once more. You step out of the restroom once you’re sure that you look decent, and walk over to your living room. You let out a smile once you lay eyes on Jeonghan laying upside down on your couch, scrolling through his phone.

“What are you doing, Hannie?” You ask, and the black haired beauty peeks at you past his phone, flashing you a smile.

“It’s more comfortable this way, wanna try?” You roll your eyes, flicking his forehead as you grab the polaroid camera. He lets out a whine, fixing his position so that he’s now sitting properly and not upside down.

“Why’d you flick me?”

“Cause you’re cheeky.” You answer, preparing the polaroid film to take the annual New Year’s Eve photo. Jeonghan grins, quickly fixing his hair to make sure it looks presentable. “Do I look okay?”

You quickly turn towards him, taking in his features. His soft eyes gaze into yours as you stare at his pretty nose and high cheekbones. You reach out and pinch his cheek with a smile, “You look pretty, Hannie. You always do. Now let’s take this photo.”

Jeonghan smiles happily at your compliment, before taking the polaroid camera from you and holding it out as you have trouble doing so. You let out a bright smile at the camera, Jeonghan doing the same as he takes the photo. The flash goes off, and you’re quick to take the film out and wave it around.

“Another one.” You command as you take the polaroid camera out of Jeonghan’s hands, and he chuckles, nodding his head. You hold the camera out and send a wink towards the camera, Jeonghan doing the same pose.

“Okay. 1, 2, 3-” Jeonghan quickly changes his pose last minute, reaching out with his hand and squeezing your cheeks with a laugh. The flash goes off, and you let out a whine, turning back towards the pretty man to see him still giggling as he takes the polaroid out and waves it around.

“Are you happy now that you’ve gotten your revenge?” You ask, and he nods his head with a grin. “Very happy, actually.”

You’re about to respond, only to pause when you see that there’s only 30 seconds left until the clock strikes midnight. You practically screech, standing up from the couch to grab the noise makers. Jeonghan watches you with a fond smile on his face, getting up from the couch to snatch the confetti.

“You’re doing confetti this year?” You ask when you scramble back over, noise maker now in your grasp. Jeonghan chuckles, “Why do we always get confetti when it’s a pain to clean up afterwards?”

You purse your lips, refusing to answer the question as you begin to count down the seconds instead. Jeonghan rolls his eyes at your antics, starting to count down along with you.

“10!”

“9!”

“8!”

“7!” Jeonghan nudges you a bit, and you stumble over, making the latter laugh loudly as you squint at him.

“6!”

“5!”

“4!” You and Jeonghan turn towards each other, bright smiles on your faces as you continue to count down.

“3!”

“2!”

“1!”

“Happy New Year!” You both cheer, and Jeonghan throws the confetti up high into the air. You laugh excitedly as it falls around the two of you, feeling your heart warm when he turns to you and grasps your face with his hands.

Your eyes softly fall shut as Jeonghan leans in and captures your lips in a kiss to celebrate the new year. Your hands trail up and rest on his sides, gripping his shirt as a smile breaks out onto both of your faces. He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours, staring into your eyes.

“I love you, yn.” He whispers, and you feel your heart swell from joy.

“I love you too, Jeonghan.” Warmth fills Jeonghan from those three simple words that hold so much depth as the two of you begin to sway side to side to the soft music filling the background.

The polaroid that Jeonghan kept in his wallet for the last two years sits up on the frame behind the both of you as you slow dance, the bright colors of the fireworks exploding outside casting an iridescent glow over the two of you.

As you scoot closer and rest your head onto Jeonghan’s chest, and his hand softly cradles the back of your head, you realize that sometimes,

Promises are meant to be broken.

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subspencer · 4 years ago

Text

Neighborly Favors

baby!spencer x fem!reader

based on this request from @spencergubler

spencer discovers what his neighbor does for a living, and she offers to give him a show EDIT: i realized after posting i switch from using third person/‘she’ to second person/‘you’ halfway through. my excuse is i was sleep deprived. hope you can overlook the error!

wc: 2.3k. cw: none

He's only ever seen his neighbor in passing, catching the flash of her coat as she enters her apartment while he's leaving his, or seeing the top of her head as she's walking by on the street when he looks down from his window. Most people don't take enough interest in their neighbors to care to get to know them, and normally Spencer wouldn't care either. Except this neighbor plays some pretty interesting music, which he can hear through the thin walls connecting their apartments.

He's not exactly sure what she's doing when she's playing her music loudly, but it doesn't sound like she's with anyone. And not that he's trying to invade her privacy, but he also doesn't hear anything happening that's remotely as sexual as what the music is. It kind of sounds like she's working out? He's not sure.

What little information he has on her only inspires his mind to think of her more often. To solve the mystery of his next-door neighbor, who comes home just as he's leaving for work, who he thinks always looks pretty despite never having seen her face.

Unfortunately, his sweet, innocent mind doesn't consider what most would think is the obvious answer. He has to find that out himself after he finally sees her, properly, in the hallway, trying to break into own apartment by picking the lock.

"Are you locked out?" He manages to speak calmly even though his mind is racing looking at her. She has on a short coat that stops just above her knees, and a pair of heels that look incredibly tall. All he he sees between are long, bare legs.

"Yeah.” She sighed, dropping the bobby pin she jammed into the lock. “Can I wait in yours until the maintenance guy comes?"

And he has no idea how he doesn't just pick up his feet and start running, but he actually lets her in, and now it's just the two of them sitting on his couch, multiple feet apart as they try to find conversation to fill the awkward silence.

"So... what do you do for work?"

"I'm a dancer."

"Oh... like ballet or-"

She looks at him like he's grown a second head and laughs, "I'm an exotic dancer."

"Oh."

He folds his hands in his lap and is suddenly extremely red. From the embarrassment of looking stupid in front of her, for one. And a bit because now he's thinking about her, in those exact high heels she has on, dancing in a dark room.

"These aren't the shoes I wear for that."

His head snaps up at her, terrified he’d said those thoughts out loud. He must not have realized he'd been staring down at her shoes for a moment too long, and that given her profession, she can tell when a guy's looking at her a certain way. Lucky for him, she finds his bashful innocence to be endearingly cute.

"They're a lot taller than this. I just wear these to get to and from work. You can see them sometime," she shrugs. Too coolly offering to show Spencer what she looks like when she dances.

He really doesn't know what to say, it probably should not have been what he ended up saying, "So the music from your place then?" He blinks at her, hands holding his knees so he has something to do with them. When she doesn't answer right away, he offers his signature frog smile, feeling incredibly awkward still.

"Sorry, didn't realize it was so loud." She looks genuinely apologetic, and it makes him feel bad for saying it like that.

"No, I mean- I mean is that like, the music that..." She knows what he's trying to ask, but it's just so much more fun watching him squirm trying to figure out how to word it in a tactful way. "Is that what you listen to at work?"

God, he's so cute, managing to find the most unassuming way to ask that. "It's what I dance to, at work, yes."

"Cool." He has no idea why he asked that. Or where to take the conversation from there. Now he's just sitting in that silence again, staring pointedly at his floor as he ignores the new mental image of her next door, kept apart from him by only a paper thin wall as she practices her routines in her living room.

Spencer's not a creepy guy, he's really not, but he feels like one when he's picturing his neighbor naked while she's sitting right next to him.

And who is she helping when she takes off her coat (because Spencer's apartment is eighty degrees)? Certainly not Spencer, who is half-expecting her to be wearing her uniform underneath. He's relieved when it's actually just a dress. And then he hates himself for thinking it wouldn't be.

She’s too sharp to not catch the look that flashed across his face as she took it off. Curious, excited. Maybe a little lustful. Nervous, for sure. But curious is what she was going to cling onto.

“Do you at least like some of the songs?” She said behind a devilish grin.

“I uh... I haven’t heard any of them, before-”

"What's your favorite?"

Spencer let out an airy chuckle, shrinking under the pressure that she wouldn't let up. He can't answer that question without incriminating himself a little bit. It was easier to laugh and brush it off like she was joking.

"Spencer, I know you have a favorite," she pressed, scooting a tad closer. Her chin rested on her hand, propped up by her elbow resting on her crossed-over knees. "If you tell me I might show you the routine."

The lump in his throat is visible as he swallows, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He wipes his sweaty palms on his knees before suddenly you're grabbing them, calling his attention as you stand up in front of him.

"I was going to practice anyway. I'm working on a new routine." His eyes can't get wider as you pull him up from the sofa and drag one of his dining room chairs to the center of the living room. "Maybe you can tell me if it's good."

As you queue up the song on your phone, Spencer does the only thing his mind is capable of doing. To sit down and wait for what's coming. Music starts playing softly from your phone speakers, and you move to the light switch in his living room, gesturing to ask if it's alright as you hit the dimmer.

Even in the dim light, Spencer can see how beautiful you are. He can make out the features of your face if he trains his eyes hard enough, and that's exactly what he's doing. Trying to watch your face, even as you're sauntering towards him, hiking up the hem of your dress.

"You okay?" Your tone was playful and light, two things Spencer did not feel capable of being right now. He felt completely serious as you placed a hand loosely on his shoulder, dragging it along his body as you circled the back of his chair, across his back and bracing his neck. Cupping under his jaw so tenderly before letting go. It lit up each nerve ending that came across your path.

You were behind him again, sliding both your hands down the front of his chest with soft pressure, dragging them down as your lips came to ghost near his neck. Your face just barely touched his skin, grazing it in a feather-soft way that made him tickle.

Each cell in his body came to attention under your touch. His eyes almost drifted shut to succumb to the feeling, but then you stood in front of him, swaying your hips gently as you sunk down towards the floor, bracing your self with a hand on each of his knees

As you came up, your hands slid up his thighs, using him as a brace to bring your body closer to his, diving towards him with your chest to his face. You moved slow on the way up, giving him time to appreciate the cleavage revealed by the skimpy dress as you did.

His eyes were still locked on yours, cowering under the attention and to nervous to look anywhere else.

"I-I don't know what to do with my hands," he chuckles, blushing hard.

You hum, turning around and taking a seat on his lap, pushing your hips slowly back until they met his crotch. You gave him a soft grind before letting your back fall to his chest, wrapping one arm around his neck. Taking his free hand into your own, you placed it gently around your thigh before trailing it up your body, allowing him to push the hem of the dress further up as your hands travelled towards your chest. You let his fingers toy with the lace edge of your panties for a second before ghosting them over the swell of your chest, skimming just briefly and teasingly, before dropping his hand back to his side.

Lifting up from your hips, you suspended your body over his, rolling in slow motion just above his lap, barely making contact with his body as he watched you. Still using his chest to bear your weight with your arms hooked around his shoulders, able to crane your neck to the side and place soft kisses on the shell of his ear before sighing deeply into it.

On instinct, his hands fly up, gripping your waist and bringing you back down to him against his hard dick. Immediately, he dropped his hands, feeling suddenly rude for being so forward and demanding. Instead, he was rewarded with a gracious bounce of your ass against him, a few times before grinding deeply against him.

Just as a groan fell from his lips, your fingernails scraped against his shoulder, ducking under the collar of his shirt to feel the bare skin. His hips buck up in reaction, and he's quickly embarrassed again.

"It's okay," you coo, running your hand through his hair. He follows your fingers as they run through the strands, chasing after them, so you provide him with a gentle tug. He bites back a moan and you tug harder, determined to make it fall from his mouth.

He lets out a surprised gasp and his arm wraps over your waist, weighing you down so you couldn't move too far from him. You almost want to tease that clients are never allowed to touch the dancers like this, but you fear that then he might stop. So, you don't.

Just for his benefit, you give him a deep, exaggerated moan right in his ear as you roll against his dick, allowing your free hand to wrap over the arm gripping your waist so tightly. When he starts subtly shifting in his chair, you can feel him getting closer.

He starts rolling his hips in time with yours, pushing them into you as you shift yours back, pressing your bodies ever closer. His eyes flutter shut as he bunches up the fabric of your dress, knotting it in his hands as he tries to hold himself back.

You break another rule when you wrap your lips over his earlobe, sucking it softly into your warm mouth before releasing, "It's okay."

It's all the permission he needs, both of his arms now pinning you against him. He gasps as his hips jut up, staggered and out of rhythm, a few times before he lets out a strangled moan, spilling his release inside his trousers.

It was never your intention to let it get this far, but you're so glad it did when you see his face, covered in a light sheen of sweat and pupils blown with lust. His naturally plump, pink lips are red and swollen from biting down so hard. That slicked-back hairdo he had before is now tousled up from your fingers knotting through it. He looks nothing like that shy, innocent boy who opened his door to you just thirty minutes ago. He's something else entirely, panting for air as he comes down from his climax.

When his eyes open again, they still look at you as softly as they did before. With the same admiration, and maybe now a deeper level of want.

You've never been one to be at a loss of words, but you truly don't know what to say now that you've seen your very cute neighbor come undone under you. And that he looks at you so sweetly despite what's just transpired. You keep it light and playful just as before as you climb off of him, searching for your phone and purse while he excuses himself to the bathroom to clean up.

While he's gone, you hear the maintenance guy coming down the hall, and you have no reason to stay. Just as you go to leave, he comes back out, and he hides his disappointment poorly because you look like you're making a quick escape. But when you see him, your hand leaves the doorknob and you turn to say goodbye.

His long legs carry him across the length of the room quickly, stopping just short of you, and you notice just how tall he is as he towers over you. His eyes flicker between yours and your lips, wanting to kiss you, but unsure where the boundary lies.

You lean forward to kiss him, the gap between you narrowing and your eyes drifting closed.

"Can I take you out?" he stops you in your tracks. He starts panicking internally, taking your stunned silence as a rejection. "Like, on a date? Is that... is that okay?"

Then you finally lung forward, crashing your lips over his as you bring him down to you by his neck, pulling him closer. His mouth chases yours as you separate, and you leave a trail of sweet pecks over his lips and chin, smiling at him and nodding, "It's okay."

form to be on my taglist: (for both this blog and my main cm blog @wheelsup)

@suburban--gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies @reidyoulikeabook @seasonfivereid @anaagraceeberr @spencerreid9 @sonnydoesrandomshit @luvofyourlifeliv @averyhotchner @spencerreidat3am @honeynico @realismisanexcusefornotbelieving @gubeskneescrew

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #mgg #matthew gray gubler #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #crimina minds

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tinyjeanmarco · 4 years ago

Note

I love your hcs so much, they’re always so well thought out and just warm. When you have the time could I please get modern Bertholdt relationship hcs? Ilysm

modern bertholdt relationship hc’s!

yes, yes, yes! i luv bert, he is so cute 🥺 i also really like his character. i say that about all of the characters LOL but still. i think yams did a great job creating all of these characters and how he made them change and grow. i’m glad there isn’t like a single character that is static in any way. in what i write though, he’s a pretty different character because it’s modern au. we chillin’ tho. also, thank you! i’m glad you enjoy my content, love! ٩(*•͈ ꇴ •͈*)و ̑̑❀

modern!bertholdt x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol.

shy boy.

the first time you guys met would be at a college party that reiner dragged him to. he honestly didn’t want to go, but reiner was able to talk him into it, saying he would have fun.

tried to stick to reiner the whole time, but managed to lose him at some point. bert honestly just decided to sit alone, observing everyone.

he wasn’t sure if it would be polite to leave or not! he didn’t even like drinking, which was what everyone was doing.

so far, reiner lied, he wasn’t having fun.

that was until you approached him. you didn’t want to see someone not enjoying themselves at an event that was supposed to be fun.

like bertholdt, you didn’t see the point in drinking though, and it seemed like you two were the only sober ones in the sea of college students.

you and bert would get along really well either because you were shy and quiet just like him, or you were loud and outgoing, trying to lift his mood somehow.

it turns out to be very effective, believe it or not. he’s glad to have someone keep him company since reiner ditched him.

you have a real long discussion about the meaning of life and other random philosophical things.

lowkey see him a a philosophy major. really suits his quiet, observant nature.

he gets a text from reiner later saying that he left the party with someone and that he didn’t have to wait up to leave.

tiny tall boy sighs, telling you his friend left, and that he might leave soon cuz that was the only reason he came.

you of course ask for his number so that you guys can keep in contact and hang out sometimes. let’s be real, there was a ~connection~ between you guys and you wanted to see where it went.

so, he agrees, and now you guys are friends!

he’s still really shy though, so you have to make the first move or else nothing will happen between you two unless someone else were to intervene.

you asked him out. date place? a museum! he really enjoys them and wants to interpret the art with you.

while you two are out, he grabs your hand in his. it’s cute, really. he’s so nervous about it, too, blushing like a madman.

your new favorite thing is finding ways to fluster him. kiss his cheek in public? blushing and fidgety. hold his hand? blushing again.

reiner loves teasing him about how nervous he gets around you, to which he always replies with a rushed, “shut up!”

over time though, he grows more comfortable around you and less nervous. he still gets flustered so easily though, don’t worry. your fun with that isn’t over.

he’s like a little puppy, he loves when you pet his hair and run your fingers through it affectionately, even if he is taller than you.

i see his love language as physical touch, so he will constantly hug you and make contact with you in any way he can. definitely feels most comfortable holding your hand when you guys are in public.

he likes it when you sit on his lap, arms wrapped around your middle, just kinda sitting there, relishing in the warmth you share together.

he is a funny man, he loves cracking jokes and you laugh at all of them because somehow, even if they’re not funny, they have you snorting.

he will be the big spoon, but it seems more like it’s split halfway. he definitely enjoys being the little spoon even though he’s a tall boy. it makes him feel less vulnerable if he’s wrapped up in your arms.

kithes. he has the softest lips, always applying lip balm, so kissing him is so pleasant. plus he’s such a gentle giant? always asks if he can kiss you before he does.

cradles your neck so softly with one hand as the other is on your waist or hip when he kisses you.

shy, but will square up if anyone says something to hurt you, or if anyone upsets you. man goes to the gym with reiner often so he is swole and ready to fight.

oH wait, okay, speaking of swole bert, he has like nice biceps and one of your favorite things is to cling to his arm when you’re together, pressed into his side, hands wrapped around his upper arm.

you love, love, love to feel his muscles. it’s kinda hot to you that he looks like so well put together, and is secretly BUILT.

also, since he is so stronk, you love getting piggy backs from him or have him carry you!

since we’re all over the place with these headcanons, i just feel it in my left ass cheek that he loves giving you forehead kisses.

you’re studying together and you fall asleep? he will give you a soft kiss to your forehead.

presses a kiss to the top of your head when you fall asleep on him as you’re watching a movie.

you’re the most obnoxious couple to watch movies with. you guys are always talking about what’s going on, discussing what it means and if you ever have a movie night with friends, expect them to tell you guys to shut the fuck up.

i love the idea of when you guys move in together, he tries so hard to cook for you, but he’s a disaster in the kitchen so you have to make something for you guys after he failed whatever he was making.

sometimes will fuck up his dish and be like, “... so, what do you want on your pizza?” as he pulls out his phone LOL.

sometimes he manages to successfully make something though. you cherish those times because it’s really not half bad.

still really rare though.

sorry, but bert chews with his mouth open so you’re gonna have to yell at him a lot before he begins to close his mouth while eating.

sees you’re into skin care so he starts asking you to help him make a skin care routine. he loves to have face masks on while you guys settle down for the night, watching stupid youtube videos together.

secretly loves disney movies. he would be watching frozen 2 when he thought you wouldn’t be home for another few hours. he scrambles to turn it off but as he’s fiddling with the remote, he just turns up the volume and you’re just like, “wait! restart it! i haven’t seen it yet!”

you go get changed into his clothes comfy clothes and snuggle in beside him, telling him to press play.

all the while he’s like what the fuck?

c’mon bert. don’t you know disney movies are for everyone? like you would judge him for that, smh.

he texts you pictures of cute animals all the time either saying “you,” or “reminded me of you.”

he’s so PRECIOUS.

speaking of pictures, you have a whole ass vault of pictures you have of him sleeping. it’s no secret that he sleeps in the weirdest positions. you get concerned sometimes, thinking that he’s going to kill himself in his sleep, but he’s fine thus far.

you have a funny picture of him as your phone screensaver, so when it lights up around your friends he gets shy and flustered as everyone laughs.

grumbles under his breath but you just give him kisses which flusters him even more.

overall, tall, shy boy is good boyfie. silly and very sweet. be sure to give him tons of back hugs and he will be wrapped around your finger!

#bertholdt x reader #bertholdt hoover x reader #bertholdt #aot x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #aot #snk #bertholdt headcanons

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shihalyfie · 4 years ago

Text

A timeline of Ken’s fall into the Kaiser persona

The timeline of Ken meeting Wormmon and going through a sequence of events that made him into the Kaiser is relatively unclear, especially because Ken’s own memory is distorted, but production notes and other minor clues in the anime hint at a timeline that works with it:

August 2000: Ken goes on some kind of adventure with Akiyama Ryou and Wormmon

Late 2000-early 2001: Osamu dies

Around 2001: Ken goes on a second adventure with Akiyama Ryou, is hit by the Dark Seed, Oikawa sends him the fateful email, Ken visits the Dark Ocean

Late 2001-early 2002: Ken begins his conquest as the Kaiser

Yep, that’s right: Ken went on two different adventures with Akiyama Ryou.

A further breakdown of this timeline is under the cut!

So the thing you’re probably wondering is “wait, this is supposed to be a Tag Tamers tie-in, but Tag Tamers doesn’t make sense with this at all! Didn’t it say Ken went on an adventure with Ryou in March 2000 right after the Diablomon incident?” The thing is that for as much fanfare as there is about Tag Tamers being important to 02′s timeline, in fact, very little of Tag Tamers makes sense with 02 itself, and the game is is so contradictory that it doesn’t actually help you understand 02 much at all. This is, unfortunately, par for the course with Bandai licensed games, which don’t exactly have the greatest track record of keeping true to anime characterization or being remotely consistent with it at all (Daisuke’s characterization in Re:Digitize is borderline insulting), and everything we know about Adventure and 02′s planned lore doesn’t make sense with it either. In the end, we’re just going to have to follow our very loose attitude towards the concept of canon and default to the anime’s depiction of things for the sake of this particular analysis, pulling from Tag Tamers only when we can incorporate details from it in a way that doesn’t contradict everything.

02 episode 33 has Ken explicitly bring up the idea of “an encounter with a Digimon” that led to him becoming a Chosen Child happening in August 2000 (Koushirou had just mentioned the recent wave of Chosen Children having had a preliminary encounter via the 1999 incident). Unfortunately, we don’t know any more than this, due to Ken’s own memory failing, and the subject is left there.

(Again, yes, this is contradictory with Tag Tamers, but remember that said depiction of “Ken and Ryou watching the Diablomon incident” also contradicts Ryou clearly being seen by himself in Turkey in Our War Game! The anime is consistent with itself; the game is the outlier here.)

So when the Digivice emerged from Osamu’s computer (actually meant for Ken) in the flashback in 02 episode 23, we see a very young Ken with a purple shirt. Let’s take a closer look at this design.

We’ve received a lot of versions of this design sheet over the years, but all of them are consistent about one thing: this design depicts Ken as nine years old, in third grade. (Whether it gives grade level or age depends which version of this reference sheet you’re following, but everything is consistent about this.)

All of Ken’s various designs as depicted in this episode and other flashbacks are very clearly marked and depicted, and even the younger design of “Ken at the time of blowing bubbles with Osamu” has its own sheet (he’s four years old at that point). Moreover, the above nine-year-old design has an explicit instruction on this particular sheet: “please use this for his interactions with Osamu,” meaning that this is the design everyone was instructed to follow up with during any scene where Osamu is alive.

The Animation Chronicle confirms that this happened in August 2000, so it seems to be shortly after Ken’s “initial encounter”. (Or maybe this is the “initial encounter”? Ken might have conflated both.)

This is the same design Ken is depicted with when he first is sucked into the Digital World (again: he’s clearly depicted as going in alone, not with Ryou as Tag Tamers depicts). While Ken’s memory is understandably very muddled, a lot of the details here make sense with each other:

The worst thing we see of this little venture is Wormmon having to fight a Gazimon. It’s not a big deal of a thing they have to fight through.

It’s clearly short enough that Ken can go in and out during the duration of an afternoon without anyone in the real world noticing (besides Osamu).

Ken’s looking like he had a lot of fun -- definitely not the kind of thing that seems like he went through a lot of trauma.

It’s unlikely anything much of a big deal happened during this point, other than some emotional bonding with a new best friend.

Osamu also died shortly after, given that Ken is still depicted with this design in the surrounding events as depicted in 02 episodes 21, 23, and 45. (Spring 2003 also refers to the titular spring as “the third spring” since Osamu’s death, confirming that Osamu must have died within the time period of late 2000 to early 2001.)

Ken is depicted at Osamu’s funeral in 02 episode 48, and while his clothes are different and we don’t get a full-body shot of him, note that there’s attention paid to making sure his design aligns with the above purple-shirt one -- his bangs drop in the center, rather than pointing left.

However, Ken remembers a trip through the Digital World in 02 episode 43, and Ken is depicted with a very different design that doesn’t match up with the one depicted in 02 episode 23. This has often been passed off as animator error, or Ken’s memories perhaps being extremely muddled, but what we know about the surrounding circumstances doesn’t actually suggest that...

This design is consistently written in notes to depict Ken as ten years old, in fourth grade. Not only that, if you look closely, Ken is visibly slightly taller, so it’s not just a simple question of clothing; his bangs are also depicted as pointing left, the same way they’re generally depicted with him at eleven, and not dropping in the center the way his nine- and four-year-old designs depicted.

On top of that, the surrounding circumstances behind this adventure depicted in 02 episode 43 also seem to be very different from what was depicted in the one from 02 episode 23:

The battle is clearly depicted as being against Millenniummon, and, regardless of whether this is following Tag Tamers or not, that’s clearly a big deal of a defeat.

Ken’s injury from the Dark Seed is enough to completely send him on the verge of death, which probably would not elicit the same kind of casual reaction he had during his emergence in 02 episode 23′s flashback. It was mild enough that Ken “recovered from his injuries and went home,” but that’s definitely not the kind of thing you’d expect to result in Ken be emerging with a big smile on his face (especially since Osamu’s violent reaction back then was implied to be out of jealousy for Ken’s happiness). Moreover, Ken returning in a poor state of health would probably be much less likely to be noticed by his family when Osamu is dead (and therefore not there to notice) and Ken’s parents are deep in grief.

This incident is the one that directly caused Ken’s trauma, meaning it’s more likely that this incident is going to be the one that got scrambled up in memory (it didn’t take long for Ken to recall his initial adventures with Wormmon in comparison back in 02 episode 23).

Ken refers to this incident as “two years ago”, but recall that, on top of his own unreliable testimony and scrambled memory, 02 episode 43 (when he brings this up) takes place during late December 2002, meaning that an early 2001 date doesn’t necessarily fall out of the question here, and it’s also not the first time 02′s final quarter taking place at the very end of December has thrown off date references. (02 references to “age” and “relative time” are often very rough in general and a bit too overly realistic, considering how long of a period 02 spans over and the question of things like exactly how long Daisuke can be said to be “eleven years old” over the course of the series, or the fact Osamu is said to be 7 when Ken is 4 and 11 while Ken is 9, so the more important part is paying attention to the fact the design sheets are so explicit about referring to different things.)

Moreover, this design of “ten years old, in fourth grade” is used in 02 episode 23 to show the events that we retroactively know happened right after that:

Once Ken had the Dark Seed in him, it makes sense that Oikawa wouldn’t hesitate to reach out to him, since he now had a great opportunity to exploit him mentally! Remember that this design debut all the way back in 02 episode 23, which meant that we knew that there was some kind of “timeskip” between Osamu’s death and Oikawa emailing Ken, but...if that were all there was to it, why would Oikawa wait so long between Osamu’s funeral (which clearly had Ken with his nine-year-old design) and now, especially since this “timeskip” would have given Ken extra time to mull over and recover from Osamu’s death? It makes much more sense when you apply 02 episode 43′s context that Ken’s Dark Seed implantation happened between Osamu’s death and the email, with Ken still having a really horrible year mulling over Osamu’s death, then getting dragged out like this and having something traumatic stuffed into the back of his neck that had the potential to feed on his already thick emotions of grief, and finally being at the right emotional point for Oikawa to make use of him.

It also explains why the Kaiser didn’t become enough of an issue to merit intervention until all the way in April 2002 -- presumably, of course, the Holy Beasts needed time to prepare, but if Ken wasn’t implanted with the Dark Seed until 2001 and Oikawa’s email shortly after that, that means Ken building up his persona as the Kaiser only really had less than a year to form (especially since 02 episode 23 states that Ken suddenly “doing well in school” didn’t start happening until Ken roughly got to the same height as Osamu was when he died, and the illusory meeting between the brothers in 02 episode 49 shows that Ken’s not actually that much taller than said height at eleven).

Moreover, if you do know the development circumstances behind Tag Tamers and 02: Tag Tamers already existed by the time 02 episode 23 was released, and so did Ken’s ten-year-old design (hence why it and Ryou’s design consistently show up together in concept art). This ten-year-old design had already been associated with “the time Ken got hit with a Dark Seed” (which really seems to be the only holdover in common between Tag Tamers and the anime) by the time 02 episode 23 was made, and despite that, Ken was given a completely different nine-year-old design for the flashbacks in 02 episode 23 that consistently got its own sheet. And you can’t say the animators forgot the ten-year-old design existed, because they clearly were fine using it for the other flashbacks in 02 episode 23 that happened to not be that flashback -- it’s hard to easily pass that off as “animator oversight” when it’s conspicuously introduced in the anime in a context it’s not known for and only revealed to be in its original context later.

Why did they suddenly change designs and depict such a “timeskip” back in 02 episode 23 when, if it really were supposed to all be related to the same events anyway, they could have just reused the designs and called it a day instead of making a whole new model sheet for an entirely new one? Whole entire character designs don’t just come up for no reason, especially when sheets are so consistent about them corresponding to different things, and the nine-year-old design seems to be made specifically for the purpose of having a distinct one for anytime Osamu was alive -- so it’s much more likely that this distinction is actually intentional (regardless of whatever the game says in terms of specifics).

As an amusing side note: Ken’s unusual height has been pointed out by a lot of people, and it’s sometimes been speculated as a bit of fridge horror that his unusual height growth might have also been impacted by the Dark Seed (especially given the 02 episode 23 comment about Ken reaching Osamu’s height correlating to when he started expressing similar “genius” tendencies), but even putting aside the fact he’s consistently portrayed as tall even in Kizuna and the epilogue: if Ken indeed got hit by the Dark Seed at 10 instead of 9, that means the kid had some pretty considerable height growth between those ages even before anything supernatural came into play. His father’s also tall, and Osamu was pretty obviously around the same height as Ken at age 11, so there’s clearly something in the Ichijouji family overall. Ken’s just tall.

#digimon #digimon adventure 02 #ichijouji ken #ken ichijouji #shihameta

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clairenatural · 4 years ago

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destiel, 2k. mafia!Cas/Kingergarten teacher!Dean from an anon prompt for mafia!dean or Cas protecting the other at all costs. I’m not entirely sure what this turned into but it was fun to write so I hope it’s also fun to read :) it references stuff that happens in 12x10, Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets.

“Sir, we have a problem.”

Castiel sighs. His five least favorite words. He glances up, frowning at Inias. “What kind of problem?” He doesn’t add that it had better be important to justify the younger man barging into his office like this, but it’s implied.

Inias takes a deep breath before stepping fully into the room, letting Castiel’s glass office door shut behind him. “The DA’s office is refusing to back down on the Ishim case.”

“And you paid them the standard amount?”

“Yes, sir. But one of the DDAs refused it.”

“Refused it.”

“He’s new. He doesn’t understand our arrangement.”

“Hm.” Castiel closes his laptop and leans back in his chair, considering both the situation and the man in front of him. They hadn’t had a problem with the DA in years—at least, not since Castiel had taken over. Their messes were less messy and they paid more generously for silence. “How much does he need to understand?”

“That’s the problem, sir. I don’t think he will.”

Castiel scoffs. “Anyone in power can be bought off,” he replies, because in all his years he’d never met someone who couldn’t be. Power corrupts, after all.

Inias shifts uneasily, and Castiel can tell he isn’t going to like how this ends.

“We’ve received word that he’s begun investigating independently.”

Castiel groans at this, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“But don’t worry!” Inias continues quickly, hurridly. “We can put our best men on the assignment, have him taken care of by tonight—”

“Wait,” Castiel cuts him off with a sigh. He forces his eyes back open. “I’m not mad,” he says before anything else, because Inias looks like a deer in the headlights and even after all this time his employees still need occasional reminding that he is not his brothers.

When he’d taken over for Michael he’d promised himself—he’d promised everyone—less bloodshed. He swore to defend his family, business, and territory from Crowley and his cronies, but he’d been determined to stop ending innocent lives. For some reason, though, innocents just love getting in the way. He sighs again. “What’s his name?”

“Sam Winchester.”

And, well. That certainly complicates things. He’d known when Sam announced he was going into criminal law that this was a possibility—in some ways, he thinks he should have expected this.

“Sir?” Inias asks, and Castiel realizes he doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at him. “Are you…do you know him?”

Castiel blinks back to reality and glares at him. “Call them off,” he orders, and cuts Inias off when he tries to protest. “Call them all off, Inias. Now.”

“But, sir, what about—”

“I’ll deal with Sam Winchester myself. Nobody else is to touch him.” Then, just for emphasis, “Until I say otherwise, consider him under my protection.”

Inias is still staring at him, baffled, but after a moment he nods, and Castiel is thankful that he’s decided not to argue. “Alright, I—yes. Understood.” He nods again before leaving the office and Castiel sinks deep into his chair, pressing the heels of his hands into both eyes.

His phone buzzes and Castiel watches as a text message lights up the screen, revealing the photo from his wedding he has set as his background. It’s a message from Dean, because of course it is, asking him what he wants for dinner and if he wants wine with it.

Castiel looks around his office, awarded to him based on his surname but paid for in blood, and he’s never hated it more.

————————————————————-

They get half an hour into the low-budget western Dean had insisted in watching before his husband sighs, pauses the movie, and sets his wine glass down on the coffee table. “What’s going on with you?”

Castiel frowns up at him from where he’s lying on the couch, cheek against Dean’s thigh, his own wine glass barely touched. All things considered, Castiel thinks he’s been doing a great job acting like everything is fine. He forgets, sometimes, how easily Dean can read him.

“Work was…long,” he answers, and it isn’t a lie. Then, because Dean is looking at him like he doesn’t believe him, he follows up with “How’s Sam?”

It’s both a deflection and an answer to Dean’s question, but Dean doesn’t know that. Dean thinks he manages a hedge fund. Which he does. Technically. Legally, at least.

Dean knows he’s changing the subject but he doesn’t press it, and his face lights up the way it always does when someone asks about his brother. Castiel loves him for it. Dean starts on about Sam, how he’s doing with Eileen, how they just moved into a bigger house because they want to start a family. Castiel isn’t paying attention, not really, because Dean’s fingers are playing with his hair and he doesn’t really want to think about anything else.

“—I said I’d help him out, though.”

That catches his attention. “What? Why?” he asks, a bit too quickly, because even though he’s missed most of the context he can’t help the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Come on, babe. I never get to use my degree anymore.” He shrugs. “And it sounds fun, you know? Helping my baby brother take down a corrupt criminal justice system. I feel like Serpico.”

“No.” It comes out more forcefully than he had intended and he sits up, turning fully to face Dean. “No, Dean, you need to stay out of it.”

Dean blinks at his husband, and Castiel immediately backtracks. “I mean, um. You don’t—you don’t have any evidence.”

“That’s the point of me helping,” Dean rolls his eyes. “I know I chose teaching five-year-olds over working in cybersecurity, but I still know my way around.”

“You’re going to hack into the DA’s office?”

“It sounds bad when you put it like that.”

“It is bad.” Castiel knows he’s being too insistent, is pushing too hard, but Dean can’t get involved, too. He can’t. “It’s dangerous. You don’t know who else could be involved.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“You should. You just don’t understand—”

“Understand what, Cas?” Dean snaps, and now it’s the fight Castiel didn’t want to have. “What could I possibly not understand that you do? A kid is dead and the DA is trying to cover it up and just maybe I can help figure out why.”

“There are things you don’t—” Castiel is already halfway through his next argument when the second half of Dean’s sentence catches up with him, and he stops. “Did you say a kid?”

Dean scoffs. “You weren’t even listening, right? Great. Yeah, some asshole killed his ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend and her kid and the DA is refusing to press charges. Says there isn’t enough evidence. Sam thinks they were paid off.”

“No,” he says, quietly, because no. The daughter was never supposed to—that’s not what happened. He had been told that’s not what happened.

“What do you mean, no?” There’s less heat in Dean’s words, and Castiel thinks it’s because he himself has completely deflated.

He stares at his husband—the love of his life, the beautiful, generous, selfless man he doesn’t deserve—and realizes he’s never going to be able to talk Dean down from this. If he could, he wouldn’t be Dean.

He thinks about all he’s done to keep this part of his life safely tucked away. He cultivated a reclusive public image to keep Dean safe from being the husband of Castiel Novak, manager of the Novak Group. He expanded their territory to encompass the school Dean works at, something his family still holds against him as a waste of resources, to protect him from being the husband of Castiel Novak, leader of the crime syndacate. He’s hidden his marriage from nearly the entire family, labeling anything to do with Dean as the most privileged of information.

The only reason he’s still doing this at all, really, is Dean. He could have jumped ship when Michael died, when Gabriel left, when Lucifer took the fall and was sentenced to life, but that meant giving everything to Raphael, who promised to hunt both him and Dean down if he left. So he took the reins instead and he’s tried his best to keep his family safe while managing the business—both the above and underground aspects.

And now, despite all that, both Dean and his brother have somehow gotten themselves involved.

Dean is still staring at him, brows furrowed, and he doesn’t move away when Castiel reaches out to take both of his hands into his own. “I’m sorry,” he starts, and Dean looks taken aback but he doesn’t break the eye contact. “I love you. I don’t want you to end up in trouble.”

Something in Dean’s eyes softens. “Hey,” He squeezes Castiel’s hands lightly. “Come on. Have a little faith in me.”

And all Castiel can do, just like any time Dean looks at him like that, is smile back. And nod. And lean forward to kiss him, just once, softly.

“I do, Dean. I always do.”

Dean leans their foreheads together and Castiel can tell he’s still concerned, but he doesn’t want there to be any more yelling tonight, so instead he pulls back to lie down in Dean’s lap again. He hears Dean sigh before picking up the remote with the hand not still intertwined with Castiel’s, and then he restarts the movie, and Castiel tries not to think for the rest of the night.

————————————————————-

The next morning, though, he’s storming into his office, ready to lay into anyone involved with lying to him. He doesn’t get far—Naomi is sitting in his chair. At his desk. For a brief moment, he sees red.

“That’s my chair.”

His aunt regards him, cool as ever. “Is it?” she asks, and she stands, but only to walk around the desk and into his space. “And who gave it to you?” In her heels she’s taller than him but he glares anyway, refusing to be intimidated. He doesn’t respond.

“Why are you protecting Sam Winchester?” she asks after a moment of silence, still standing just as close.

“Why did you lie to me about the incident with Ishim?”

Naomi’s expression doesn’t change, but something close to surprise flickers across her eyes and she backs off to lean against his desk. “I suspect the answer to both of those questions is the same.”

“May Sunder was never supposed to die,” he presses, not backing down, and Naomi looks at him as if he’s being an unruly child.

“Yes, but her mother threatened to go to the police. Come now, Castiel, you’re old enough to understand these things.”

“I never authorized that.”

Naomi stands again. “You think you have to?”

This, of all things, catches him off-guard. “I—yes?”

His aunt steps forward, crowding him again, and he hates himself for taking a step back. “You’re a figurehead, Castiel. You’re in power because you’re Michael’s brother, people like you, and we thought you’d at least be loyal.”

“I am loyal,” he retorts, and she sighs.

“I’m not the only one who’s begun to question your sympathies, Castiel. Who are you loyal to?”

“My family.”

“Does that mean us? Or Dean Winchester?”

Castiel freezes, stunned. “How—”

Naomi cuts him off with a smile. “You think we don’t know? We’ve been letting you play house because it kept you distracted. Now, it seems, it’s making you weak. If you don’t fix this, I’ll have no choice but to cure you of that weakness.”

At last she steps away and turns towards the door. “You have an army here, Castiel. Don’t lose it for one man.”

And then she leaves.

And then, Castiel makes a decision.

In the next few hours, he makes several more—and then he’s driving home with all his family’s secrets copied onto a hard drive, the few items from his office that he actually cares about, and a plan forming on how to take the whole system down.

It’s almost funny, he thinks, the decision Naomi expected him to make—that she’d expected him to choose the family over Dean. That she’d expected him to choose anything over Dean.

She has no idea what’s coming.

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel one-shot #deancas fic #deancas #spn #the destiel starts after the cut!!#mafia!au #teacher!au #background saileen #my words #over 1k words

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sadachmesarthim · 3 years ago

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towers for your honeycomb chap 2: more meany pants tony

part one

content: tony’s being a dick again, mention of Peter’s Family Problems, confined spaces, smoking, @carelessannie is a character and Has A Boyfriend That Is a Real Person I Know, tony calls peter a turtle, crying

word count: 1.5k // square filled: locked in a closet!

song for this chapter here -> that’s not a good excuse - eli.

It was late, it was cold... mid-December nights were usually slow, but not no-car-in-sight-for-hours slow. Peter didn't handle any of those well on their own, but all three?

Working with Tony the entire time didn't do much to help, either.

They'd clocked on together, they'd be clocking off together - it was his worst nightmare. There wasn't anything to do, either - they'd already finished half of the closing list and every single chore. Annie had FaceTimed her boyfriend after finishing her chem homework - hell - the girls'd made a snowman outside the front of the stand, for fuck's sake!

Time was barely crawling. It made Peter irritable - apparently, it made Tony irritable, too.

⁘|||⁘

Annie hung up her FaceTime call with Sebastian, excited at the prospect of food. She turned, ready to take orders from the three that were now in front of her. "Okay - Panda Express - what is he bringing us?"

Courtney piped up first. "I'll just do another of what you're doing, A." She went back to her phone, more interested in her boy of the week than the rest of the conversation.

Annie typed it into her texts, looking back toward the boys. "You two - what is he getting you?" Tony spoke next. "I'll do the same thing. I'm easy." Peter scoffed a bit at that, covering it poorly with a cough. Annie shot him a look. Don't start shit.

"Peter, anything?" She knew him too well to ask. "Nah babe, I'm gonna eat at home."

That suddenly got Tony's attention. "What, you're not eating? We still have two hours left, and you look like you're about to fall over." Perfect Parker timing, his stomach growled - audibly enough to justify Tony's comment.

Peter shoved past him, making his way toward the back. He didn't want to engage - he wanted to- to- to text Resa, pour himself into some chores, maybe dive into a snowdrift - literally anything but continue the conversation.

Tony on the other hand... he didn't know when to stop. "What's your deal, Parker? The man is bringing us food, on his own dime. You really gonna be rude enough to refuse?"

Peter closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. "It doesn't matter what my deal is, Tony - maybe I just don't like Panda. Maybe I don't want something that heavy on my stomach. Maybe my mom has food waiting for me at home. You don't know shit - so why don't you just leave it alone?" Mmm a bit harsh, Parker, take it down a notch.

Tony scoffed. "We both know you don’t have anything waiting for you, anywhere, Parker. Quit talkin' big and just accept the generosity."

Both Courtney and Annie gasped at that one. It was common knowledge around the stand that Peter's home life was off-limits. Hell, everyone's was - leave your shit at the door applied to everyone else's shit too. Apparently, Tony didn't get the memo.

"Okay, nope. I'm not listening to this conversation. Both of you, fridge!" Courtney - taller and stronger than both of them - grabbed the boys, practically tossing them into the walk-in. The door slammed behind them, something jamming it from the outside.

Her voice was muffled, but they both understood - they weren't getting out until they figured this out. They'd been fighting off and on for months, and it was causing serious issues in the stand. The girls were uncomfortable - sure, it was fine if they were separated during shifts, but that couldn't go on forever.

This just happened to be everyone’s final straw.

Peter pressed his forehead into the door, not wanting to face the other man. This wasn't exactly how he'd planned on spending his evening - and now that he found himself here, he was going to do everything he could to avoid avoid avoid any further confrontation.

His mouth hadn’t caught the memo.

“That’s two.” Shut the fuck up.

He couldn’t see them, but he could practically hear Tony’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Two what?” He was still seated, from what Peter could tell. At least he wasn’t about to get his ass beat.

“Two apologies you owe me. Me and the girls. For being rude, and talking shit in the stand.” God damn it Peter, shut your mouth!

Tony scoffed. “You’re still on about that? Come on, Parker, can’t you just let it go?”

He tried. Peter tried really, really hard to hold himself back, he did. But it just... it wasn’t like him, to take shit like this. To allow someone like- like- like Tony Stark to make his life a living hell. Mob connections be damned, he wasn’t going to take it anymore. It was exhausting, and Peter was tired of coming to work every day dreading his shift.

He got up, turning to face Tony. He might’ve been shorter than him normally, but with Tony sat on the foot-tall milk crate, there was quite a difference. It was childish, but it made him feel like he had the upper hand.

“You- you- you can’t keep pushing me around like this, Tony. You’ve been a dick to me for months, and I’m sick of it. All I wanted was one stupid, little apology, and you can’t even give me that!

“I left you alone! I tried to make our shifts together easy, I stayed out of your way! I begged Courtney to never schedule us or rotate us together. Do you know how difficult that is?? Especially in a stand this size, Tony, it’s nearly impossible.” He was near tears at this point, voice close to breaking.

“And then you have the audacity to come here, in my stand, and talk about my- my family - which was not fucking okay, by the way. It just- it’s so cruel, Tony! I’m done!

“I tried to be nice, I really did. But you make it so fucking difficult. So forgive me for not being able to just let it go.”

⁘|||⁘

Peter was always an ugly crier. Snotty, red eyes, uncontrollable shaking.

He was also an angry crier. The two tended not to mesh well.

It didn’t help that people tended to not take him seriously anyway. He was small, entirely not intimidating. Couldn’t hurt a fly. The second you get him even remotely upset, and he bursts into tears?

He wasn’t expecting sympathy from Tony.

⁘|||⁘

He was done sobbing by this point, but the damage was done.

He’d thoroughly embarassed himself in front of the man he’d just... just demanded so much from. It wasn’t his lowest moment, but it was close. Nice going, P.

Peter was convinced he couldn’t be locked in the fridge with anyone wor-

There was a hand on his shoulder.

His head shot up, grabbing Tony by the wrist. “Don’t touch me!” It came out louder than he’d intended, and the look of fear written on Tony’s face did make him feel a bit bad. Peter hadn’t let go. “Just- don’t- just ask first, fuck.”

He released his grip, turning to dig his head back into his arms. He’d tucked himself into the far corner, drawing his knees up around him so he could get as far from the door as possible. He wanted to sink himself straight into the floor, mesh with the concrete, never show his face at work again -

But there Tony was, looking down at him like he was a startled puppy.

He plopped himself down next to Peter, facing in toward the center of the fridge. He tilted his head, making contact with Peter’s left knee. “Would you look at me?” Gentle.

Peter sniffled, trying to clear his nose. He knew he wasn’t the most presentable right now - wet spots soaking both of his sleeves, nose probably bright & cherry-tinged. He shifted, just barely peeking past his forearms.

“There we go.” Peter sniffled again.

Tony looked like there was a war going on inside him. Peter’d never spent this long looking at him - certainly never this long at his eyes. There was so much to them, so much hurt and understanding he’d never seen before. So much he recognized.

Tony was drawing circles into his shin, now, steady movement bringing him back to the present. “Come on, little turtle, come outta that shell for me.”

Peter’s eyebrows drew together. “’m not a turtle.”

Tony laughed. “What, then? Hermit crab? Clownfish? What else hides when it’s upset?” It was a sad attempt at breaking the tension, and he knew it.

Peter wasn’t phased by it, either. His glare stuck.

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry. No animal nicknames. I got it.” He smiled as his hands came away from Peter’s body, pulling up in a defensive position. “Plain ‘ole human insults, then, promise.”

Peter let out a huff. “How hard was that?”

“Was what?”

“You said sorry.” Oh.

“I... I guess I did.” Tony’s hands came down. He pushed himself to his feet, crossing toward the door. “Consider it an accident.” His entire demeanor had shifted - he was back to his normal, standoff-ish self.

Whoever Peter’d spent the last couple of minutes with was gone.

“N- Tony I-”

“Forget it, Peter. Seriously.” He pushed at the handle of the fridge door, thankful it was free to open. He bypassed the girls, grabbing the rest of his shit and tearing out the door. The cigarette barely lit with how fast he made the trek to his truck, lighter burning the side of his thumb.

When did he get so soft?

Fuck.

tag list: @longlivestarker @bluestarker xoxo

#sfsummerbingo21 #starkerfestivalsevents #starker #peter parker/tony stark #peter parker x tony stark #.mine #.fic #i wrote all of this save the last bit of dialogue a week ago #i just couldn't find a place to end it #i found a place apparently #coffee shop au #more enemies babey

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agoldengalaxy · 3 years ago

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Clone Force 99

read on Ao3

CT-9904, affectionately nicknamed Crosshair by the old coot 99, sat by himself at the end of the table. The taunting from fellow cadets had been something he dealt with for as long as he could remember, because he wasn’t like them. He looked to be about thirteen in standard years, lanky with long limbs, hair shaved into a buzz cut like the rest of them, but where most of them had dark hair like Jango Fett, he had silver. He’d learned long ago that, because the Kaminoans considered him enhanced and ‘special’, the other cadets wouldn’t like him much. That was fine by him.

or, how the Bad Batch met.

Chapter 1: The Leader

“He’s so weird! Why doesn’t he talk? Hey! Didn’t they teach ya how to speak?”

He didn’t bother looking up from his tray. Normally the longer he ignored it, the faster they’d give up. But one of the cadets slid in, reaching over him to grab a bar from his tray. “It’s kinda sad your only friend is that disfigured old man. But he’s weird, like you,” he continued, taking a bite.

Crosshair lifted his narrowed gaze to the cadet. “99 is a better man than you’ll ever be,” he replied coolly. “Now if you'll excuse me, I’d prefer if you left me alone to eat.”

“Ooh, scary. How do you expect to make any friends when you talk like that?” For some reason, the cadet was feeling bold today. Crosshair clenched his jaw, but then turned it into a slight smirk.

“Are you trying to be friends with someone weird like me?” he asked calmly. Clearly the other boy was just attempting to get a rise out of him, but Crosshair wasn’t prone to emotional outbursts like most of the clones his age. He had a handle on it very early on. It was another reason, he suspected, that he was well-liked by the Kaminoans. “I’m sure 99 could give you a nice name since you don’t have one yet.”

Immediately the cadet faltered, a scowl appearing on his face, and he shoved Crosshair’s shoulder. “Just because you’ve got a name and special treatment doesn’t mean you’re better than us. You’re just a freak.”

And if he were being honest with himself, Crosshair knew that. He knew he was seen as a freak. His sharpshooting skills and enhanced reflexes made him different, and though many probably wouldn’t admit it, when he was in the zone, he was scary. Fast and accurate every time, and he’d only improve with age.

Normally he kept to himself, but today, he didn’t feel much like dealing with this, especially as the other boys watched, snickering. Still just as calmly as he had before, using those fast reflexes, he grabbed his bowl of lukewarm soup and tossed it into the cadet’s face. While he sputtered in shock, green liquid dripping down his chin, the sharpshooter stood, brushing himself off. “What was that about not being better?” he drawled, before stepping out of the bench and heading down the hall, leaving hushed silence behind him.

While he walked, a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. He’d wanted to do that for a long time, and he knew 99 and the others would disapprove, but they wouldn’t do anything. He was too important for them to bench him. They’d tell him to play nice, and they’d move on.

But playing nice, he thought, most likely wasn’t in his future. Not when no one else did.

The door to the cadets’ quarters slid open. Considering it was mealtime, he expected it to be completely empty. Cadets in the same age group ate, trained, and slept together; with any luck, his little stunt in the mess hall would keep the others from teasing him for a while.

He headed toward his bunk, rolling his shoulders back, but stopped in his tracks as he noticed someone was standing beside it. The other boy turned around, dark eyes wide. His hair was completely unruly, tied back with a headband. He seemed…different. Crosshair was skeptical. “Who are you?”

“Hello to you, too,” the stranger said, smirking. He stepped forward, extending his hand to him. He didn’t seem to be wary of Crosshair, for whatever reason. “My name’s Hunter. I’m takin’ the bunk above yours. You go by Crosshair, don’t you?”

Crosshair paused, eyeing the boy up and down, before completely ignoring the outstretched hand, walking past to sit down on the edge of his bunk. “What’s it to you?”

Hunter didn’t seem put off. He just chuckled, crossing his arms to lean against the wall. “You’re just as cold as everyone says.” His voice wasn’t teasing; in fact, Crosshair wondered if he could detect some interest as he lay back, folding his hands behind his head. “I’m like you, you know.”

That caught his attention. As expected, this ‘Hunter’ was different. Lowering his gaze from the bunk above his, he met Hunter’s eyes. “Are you, now?”

“I’m defective. Or enhanced. I dunno, they used both words to describe me.” He didn’t seem very bothered by that fact. “My name’s Hunter because I have really good senses. I can feel electromagnetic frequencies.”

“Do you want a medal?” Crosshair asked sarcastically, looking back up at the bunk above. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this. He liked being alone, and he had a feeling now that Hunter wasn’t planning on leaving him to his own devices. By looking at him, he could guess he was probably about a year younger, give or take.

At this point, he would expect Hunter to get angry or defensive here. But he simply smiled a little. “Sure, maybe one day. But I actually just wanted to meet you. Nala Se wants to pair us up in training tomorrow.”

Of course she did. He supposed that made sense, though. The Kaminoans were all about efficiency, and if Hunter really was enhanced like him, they could potentially make a good team. But Crosshair wasn’t exactly used to being a team player. He worked alone, not only because he and the other cadets didn’t see eye to eye, but also because he was a sharpshooter. He climbed to high places and took droids out remotely, on his own.

Slowly, he moved to sit up again, eyeing Hunter closer. Other boys would normally falter under his gaze, but Hunter simply stared back, a slight smirk on his face. Even without enhancement, he could tell Hunter was different. He had a different air about him. Confidence, but not cockiness like some of the others. At first, Crosshair had thought it would be a problem, but he figured there was a big chance he could end up liking that about him. That was somewhat scary. He hadn’t ever ‘liked’ anyone else around his age.

Raising a brow, the taller boy leaned forward. “You know if you are caught talking to me, the other cadets will not take a liking to you.”

That earned him a snort. “I’m already used to that, Crosshair. The group I was with before hated me. I know what it’s like. Not very good in the friends department, like you. I was thinking we could be each other’s first.”

Slowly, Crosshair got to his feet. He towered over the other boy by a good few inches, but Hunter’s chest remained puffed and his expression calm. They stared at each other for a few moments. He wasn’t sure what to make of Hunter at all, and he was displeased to find that his first thought was that he seemed to be a natural born leader. Taking initiative, knowing exactly how to talk to him. Maybe, just maybe, the makings of a friend. “We will see, won’t we?” he said finally, leaning back a little to cross his arms over his chest. “Yes, we will,” the other agreed, a slightly smug smile on his face.

Things were quiet for a moment, and though he never wanted to know anything about the other cadets, something bugged him. “Why is your hair...like that?” he asked, somewhat stiffly. “I thought every clone cadet had to keep their hair short.”

Hunter reached up to touch the dark hair, falling in waves just past his chin. “They’ve tried,” he chuckled, “but for some reason, it grows really fast. Within a few days it’s back to this. The lads in my old training group used to tease me for it. Called me a girl. But if I can be anything like Shaak Ti or any of the other Jedi someday, I’ll take it as a compliment.” Hunter crossed his arms, thoughtful. “You know, I think they’re mean ‘cause they’re jealous. They’re just... regs.”

Before he could stop it, a small grin appeared on Crosshair’s face. “Regs?” he repeated, tilting his head. “Don’t let them hear you say it, they’ll start a fight…”

“Well, then we can team up even earlier.” Hunter seemed pleased with himself, also grinning a little. “But hey, wanna do me a favor?” Bending over, he pulled a knife from his boot, holding out the handle to Crosshair. “Cut my hair? You can see how fast it grows.”

Crosshair frowned, but he reached to take the knife anyway. “You...trust me to do that?” It was more disbelief than anything.

“‘Course. I can’t really do it myself unless I wanna make a mess, so I’ve been having Nala Se help me out. She’s busy, though, so it’d be nice not to bother her. You don’t have to, just thought I’d ask.”

He glanced down at the knife in his hands, then back up. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, but he nodded, and Hunter turned around. Maybe it was the fact that no one had ever really trusted him before. Or maybe it was because for the first time, he figured that in a world where everyone his age was the same except him, he’d found someone who wasn’t so different from him. Someone who understood.

Gripping hair in hand, he got to work, slicing it. Strands fell in piles beside his feet, but he paid them no mind as he worked. He didn’t cut it much shorter, but he was mostly able to keep it even. Precision was important in his line of work, after all. When he was finished, he stepped back, almost shyly handing the knife back to Hunter.

The boy turned around to take the knife back, smiling, genuinely. Placing the knife back into his boot, he walked by, nudging his shoulder gently. “Thanks, friend .” And with that, he headed up the ladder to his bunk. Crosshair smiled a little, but he ducked his head to avoid it being seen, and walked to his bunk just below.

Maybe he really could have a friend.

#star wars #the bad batch #bad batch #crosshair bad batch #hunter bad batch #im so attached to them. holy #anyway go read the other two chapters if you want thanks #my writing #agoldengalaxy #my post

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confetti-cupcake · 3 years ago

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As promised, here’s an unedited sneak peek into Chapter 1 of my in-progress 9-1-1/Lone Star Survivor AU, Thirty-Nine Days, the video trailer of which can be found here. For anyone who doesn’t know, Survivor is a reality TV show where everyday people are stranded on a remote island. They’re divided into teams called “tribes” and have to work together to survive in the wilderness, compete in challenges and vote each other out. It requires a lot of strategy and duplicity, but it also bonds people in a pretty amazing way, and the winner gets awarded a million dollars. The fic bounces around to all the characters’ POVs at one point or another throughout the game, and this specific snippet is from Buck’s POV. Buddie is the fic’s main pairing, but Madney, Bathena, Tarlos and Judd/Grace are also featured.

For context, this scene takes place at the start of Day 1 during the marooning. This is the opening challenge where the contestants run around on a boat, gathering supplies to help them survive, then get on their tribe’s raft and race the other tribe to shore or to another boat for a reward (in this case, a bag of rice). Here’s an example from the actual show, to get a sense of what it looks like. Hope you all enjoy, and feedback is always welcome!

“Get on the raft! Get on the raft! Come on!”

The first words Buck heard as he surfaced were ones of urgency. The last minute had been one of the most chaotic in his life — and that was saying a lot, considering the career he’d made out of running into burning buildings.

He had stayed on the boat much longer than he had initially planned, having picked up a saw, a hammer, and a packet of nails, before turning back to retrieve an armful of watermelons. He had promptly tossed them each overboard as he found them, moving too fast to care if anyone down below was in the line of fire. It was a race after all, and one for food, at that. But as he glanced around the deck after launching the final melon into the water, it was clear most of his tribe had already abandoned ship. Not wanting to be left behind, he had thrown himself — some might say recklessly — over the starboard side of the ship. But he didn’t have time to think about his own safety, not with sustenance for his team on the line. And so he soon found himself splashing forcefully into the Fijian sea, completely submerged before coming up for air.

Disoriented from the impact, Buck swam toward the first raft he saw, only to stop when he noticed the outfits of the castaways climbing aboard. Yellow tank tops, yellow flannels, a yellow hoodie. Yellow buffs around their necks and wrists and foreheads. He whirled around, desperate to find the right color over his competition cannonballing themselves overboard. Purple, purple… where are you, purple?

"Hey!"

“Over here!”

Buck lifted his head and peered to the right, struggling to tread water as the waves of the sea rolled toward him. A timber raft about eighty feet away on the other side of the ship floated in the water, and he could make out several figures standing up, waving their arms, flashes of purple fabric standing out against the horizon. Buck swam over, managing to dodge the battered fruit bobbing in the water. As he approached the raft, the figures came into focus.

A woman in a purple track suit with wide-rimmed glasses and big hoop earrings stood on the edge of the raft, and Buck reached out for her, hoping to get a lift aboard. She leaned down extending her hand, but toward another woman on their tribe, an entire water jug on the shoulder of her small frame as she struggled to stay afloat. He swam around her, reaching for the next person, a tall redhead, but she seemed more concerned with keeping the supplies balanced than lifting anybody up.

Frustration setting in, he made a beeline to the tribe member next to her, desperate for any kind of help. The tribe member turned around, and Buck was suddenly face to face with a young guy, probably no more than a couple years older than Buck.

The man locked eyes with him, and suddenly everything became hazy. The exhaustion was, of course, the most likely culprit. Time seemed to slow down, the havoc faded into the background and his teeming desperation melted away. His eyes were immediately drawn to the cursive tattoo inked around the man’s left forearm as he knelt down, reaching for Buck, and something about the action unleashed a ripple of familiarity and relief. His tribemate’s fingertips padded against the double ring tattoo similarly wrapped just above Buck’s elbow, and when he felt himself slipping, Buck felt no shame in holding on tighter. “I got you. I got you,” the man affirmed as he pulled Buck’s entire 6’2” frame up onto the raft.

“Thanks,” Buck said breathlessly when he was finally out of the water, crawling around the stack of supplies growing taller by the second.

“Don’t sweat it.” The man ran a hand through his dark brown hair as he looked around the raft, eyes widening when they landed on the object he was searching for amongst the mess. “Here,” he said, pushing a paddle into his hands. “Get ready, I think we’re about to take off.”

Buck nodded, but, either out of a weird sense of gratitude or the desire to experience this peace for just a bit longer, felt a sudden urge to prolong the interaction. “What’s your name?”

The man paused, eyebrows knit together, as if the question took him off guard. After a brief hesitation: “Eddie.”

“Buck.”

The look of intensity flickering in his soft brown eyes morphed briefly into an inquisitive expression before settling into a faint smile. His lips parted, as if to say something else, when another purple buff-wearer emerged from under the water. Eddie punched him on the shoulder lightly before turning around to pull the person out. Buck’s momentary bubble of repose had popped, leaving him at the mercy of his frenzied surroundings once again.

Most notable was a physical-looking, middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, who brushed by him on the way to the back of the raft. Buck immediately noticed the machete in hand, and the all-too-familiar LAFD shirt on his back.

The man grabbed the rope holding the raft to the boat, turning back around to scan the structure. “How many do we have?” he called out.

Buck surveyed his tribemates, finding it difficult to track the absolute mayhem happening around him. He spotted a stocky blonde woman in front, sliding back in to grab a cooking pot that had begun to float away. One. Eddie — two — who had probably served in the military if the shirt he was wearing was any indication, pulled another young woman dressed for a day at the office out of the water, making it a tighter squeeze aboard. Three. A bundle of firewood rolled off their pile of supplies back into the water, and a woman treading water nearby snatched it up. Four. Buck reached down to grab the bundle from her — wait, nope, that person was on the other tribe, judging by the yellow buff wrapped around her tight, curly hair. And… he had already lost count. It was too early for his brain to do math, he concluded.

“We have nine by my count,” the woman with the hoop earrings piped up. The man grimaced and began scanning the water for their missing tribemate, prompting Buck and the others to do the same, until a shrill voice traveled over the chaos.

“Wait for me, guys!”

Buck whipped his head toward the barge, just in time to see a shorter, Korean man jump from the ship, bushel of coconuts in hand, resulting in a violent splash that rocked the raft.

“Get up here, man! Nice of you to finally join us!” firefighter number two yelled jokingly, still holding onto the rope. The way he naturally seemed to take charge combined with his jovial attitude reminded him of his fire captain back home, so he decided he’d call this guy “Cap” in his head until he learnt his name.

Buck grabbed the floating coconuts before they could be pilfered and set them down on top of their stack of loot, while Eddie once again lifted up their man overboard. Before he knew it, Cap had already chopped through the rope and set sail toward the barge.

As Cap started a rhythmic “Row!” chant, which made him feel like he was less on Survivor and more on the college crew team, Buck glanced toward the yellow tribe’s raft in curiosity. They had just found their machete and were also on the verge of breaking away. He squinted at the women, who were slowly fading out of view, and thought back to the brief chat they had with Jeff before the marooning. He wracked his memory, suddenly unable to tell if his eyes were deceiving him. Was it her? Nah, couldn’t be…

A large hand suddenly clasped his shoulder. He turned around to see Cap wearing a stern expression, no doubt reserved for him. A look that was also not unlike his fire captain’s back home.

“Kid, I need you to row. You can look at the other tribe later. We can’t have them catching up.”

Buck narrowed his eyes, but submerged the oar into the water and rowed with all his might, keeping time with his tribemates. But as coordinated as they seemed, the yellow tribe was gaining… and gaining… and gaining, until they were suddenly within ten yards.

One glance at his own raft was enough to understand why. The precariously-stacked mountain of supplies in the center of the raft was slowly losing its integrity, with coconuts and fish traps and Buck’s watermelons — which were looking rough at this point — rolling off the top toward the ocean, forcing his tribemates on the other side to forgo their paddles to keep everything aboard. A collapse was imminent, and to make matters worse, the raft was beginning to stray off-course.

The poor woman with shoulder-length blonde hair sitting in front of Eddie was taking the brunt of it, struggling to fend off the falling objects and row at the same time. Buck pitied her for more reasons than one. She had probably done something to piss off production, given she was thrown into the game wearing a power suit, instead of the more camping-appropriate attire the rest of them had been assigned to wear. She stuck out, but she was sure as hell making it work for her, and Buck had to scold himself to focus on the task at hand.

“We’re tilting guys, we’re tilting!” Cap called out to the tribe. “Let’s straighten out.”

Everybody stopped paddling all at once. Buck wasn’t sure if it was due to the abrupt absence of movement or a current that had come out of nowhere, but their tower of supplies suddenly gave way with an ugly snap, sending the rest of the heavy crates tumbling down and knocking Power Suit Girl straight into the water.

It had never been clearer that the cast was rife with seasoned first responders, as not a moment was lost to panic. Like a well-oiled machine, half of the tribe leant over the water’s edge in an attempt to pull her back up, while the other half scrambled to salvage as many of the lost objects as they could. But as quickly as the rescue mission was set into motion, the raft’s pursuit of the barge came to a screeching halt.

Another violent splash cut through the commotion, and Buck whipped his head in the direction of the Matagi raft. The woman wearing a hijab on the other tribe had jumped in, tearing through the water toward the barge, egged on by the cheers of her tribemates.

Buck didn’t take a second to think. He threw the paddle aside, staggered to his feet, and dove in. Head first.

Tagging my fellow Survivor fans: @ashavahishta @wolvesofinnistrad @loveyourownsmiilee @halsteadsass @browney3dgirl6 @phonotactless @no-moremusic @pennykent

#9-1-1 fic #911fic #911lsfic #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #9-1-1 au #wip #thirty-nine days snippet #thirty-nine days feed #reality tv au

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years ago

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🌸 social media au where y/n posts a fake boyfriend application on twitter as a dare but ends up seeking something real in the long run (aka how to fall in love the zillennial way) 🌸

A/N: RIP Jungkook... When will he catch a break, I wonder? Who is Hoseok to him anyway? Much to think about... Also I’m just gonna say this, but Jungkook is literally the most unreliable narrator I’ve ever had to write, so take that in mind when you read this. Enjoy! || W.C. 2K

prev // part 14 of ? // next masterlist here.

[updates every 6PM PST]

It takes another 10 minutes or so until the maintenance guy manages to rescue both Jungkook and Namjoon out of the elevator. Luckily, the elevator didn’t stop midway between floors so they didn’t have to crawl or climb out, so getting out is a quick and easy ordeal once the doors are opened. Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief, but that moment of calm is short-lived when he hears Namjoon clear his throat behind him.

“Umm… Jungkook-ssi, right?” Namjoon addresses him by his name for the first time. Jungkook jumps up in surprise, though he should have known that you would have ratted him out when you found out he was intentionally ignoring the taller boy.

“I… Yeah. And you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook doesn’t even bother tacking on the question mark at the end, too worn out mentally to bother pretending like he’d only suddenly realized. He rubs the back of his neck, thankful that he’s turned away from Namjoon so that he doesn’t see the flash of annoyance across his face.

Without another word, Jungkook begins climbing the last two flights of stairs to reach your shared apartment. He doesn’t turn to see if Namjoon follows, though he does hear the extra pair of footsteps close by.

When they file into your shared home, the awkward tension magnifies tenfold. While Namjoon and Jungkook had been gone, it seems that Hoseok has already made himself comfortable, laughing jovially at something you said as he helps you bring the last remaining pairs of cutlery to the table. Jungkook looks over at the new visitor from the corner of his eye and notices the way Hoseok has his gaze locked fervently on you as you fussed over everyone’s seating arrangements.

“Oh, Jungkook! Namjoon!” You shove Yoongi’s plate towards him the moment you hear the door open, sprinting over to the two of them. Your hair is in complete disarray, slightly frizzy in places even after you had painstakingly taken an hour this morning trying to look presentable. Even so, Jungkook can’t help the way his heart beats a little faster when you envelop him in a tight hug, as you’ve always looked cute to him no matter what. When he wraps his arms around you to return the embrace, he feels you lower your lips near his ears. “You’re in big fucking trouble, mister. We’re talking after all of this is over,” you whisper darkly. He gulps audibly when you separate, the smile on your face is eerily present.

Thankfully, you don’t hug Namjoon as well, though an apology is out of your mouth before Jungkook can distract you. “Namjoon, I’m so sorry again. I wish I had warned you about the elevator sooner,” you pout, but Namjoon is quick to waive your concerns.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know. All that matters is that we’re here now.” He smiles warmly, his dimples on full display. You clear your throat, staring wide-eyed at him, no doubt dumbstruck by his handsome features. Jungkook tries to relax the tick in his jaw, but to no avail. Instead, he marches past the two blushing fools, eager to get away.

Since your apartment is quite small, you set most of the food onto the coffee table, with everyone either sitting on the floor or on the couch. Jungkook is quick to take a seat next to you on the couch, but that also forces him to have Seokjin on his other side. The elder winks salaciously at him, which Jungkook pointedly ignores.

Namjoon and Hoseok take a tentative seat on the other side of the coffee table. Namjoon’s gangly legs make it difficult for him to fold himself in properly, so you offer to switch places with him instead, much to Jungkook’s dread. Namjoon glances at him for a moment before hesitantly accepting your offer, squishing himself on Jungkook’s right side on their small, sunken couch. He can feel rather than hear Seokjin’s attempts to mask his nefarious giggles.

You seat yourself beside Hoseok, who smiles widely back at you. “Sorry, I totally forgot to introduce myself. I’m Y/N! I’ve heard all about you from Namjoon.”

“Really? Well, I hope it’s only been good things,” he says. “To be honest, I don’t think I’d see you again after that time in––“

“I’m going to fucking start eating now!” Jungkook interrupts, stabbing his chopsticks into the mountain of pork that you had prepared. Somewhere in Busan, he’s sure his mother is cringing at his terrible manners.

For a moment, you seem startled by his sudden proclamation, but you’re quick to shake it off. “Alright everyone! Please dig in,” you say, clapping your hands with a large grin on your face. Jimin is the first to dive into the food, popping a piece of kimbap into his mouth and moaning loudly in satisfaction.

“Y/N, I don’t know what type of crack you put into your food, but MAN this is delicious,” he says, already piling up his plate with anything he can get his hands on. Yoongi is slightly more reserved when he takes a prawn and chews it softly, nodding in agreement with Jimin’s statement.

“Thank you for this meal, Y/N. You must have worked really hard,” Namjoon says, reaching over for some food as well. Jungkook watches as he nearly bumps the plate of ssam off the edge of the table. “Oh, whoops.”

Hoseok laughs loudly, the sudden noise surprising everyone around him. He doesn’t look all that embarrassed, however. “I’ll have to apologize for Joon in advance. He’s a bit of a clumsy guy.” He smiles kindly at Y/N. “You’re gonna have to get used to that eventually, I suppose.”

Jungkook notices the soft blush rising up your neck. His grip on his chopsticks tightens as he takes a particularly rough bite out of his food. “I, um, suppose I will,” you laugh shyly, rubbing the back of your neck while keeping your gaze off Namjoon. You accidentally make eye contact with Jungkook instead, who didn’t have enough time to erase the annoyance out of his expression. You flinch slightly, before softening your voice in that tone you use whenever Jungkook felt a little stressed out. “Jungkook? Are you okay? Is the meat too tough or something?”

Seokjin snorts beside him, nearly choking as he was in the middle of taking a big swig of water. Jungkook hates that he knows that the bastard is enjoying this way too much. Jungkook’s frustration is easy for anyone to see, with only you being left unaware as to why he was so agitated. Your cluelessness only adds to his bubbling anger. “Yeah, Jungkook. Are you alright? Bet you wished there were less people at the table, huh?”

Jungkook is quick to stomp on his foot, causing the prick to yelp in pain. He’s too busy pinching Seokjin in the tit that he misses the way Namjoon’s face falls, dejectedly looking at his food with a deep furrow in his brow.

“Oh? Are you becoming self-aware? Maybe you should take a page out of your book and leave before I kick you out myself,” you huff, scowling at Seokjin. You must have misinterpreted his little side comment, though Jungkook isn’t sure if he should be thankful for that or not. You turn to Taehyung, who has been mysteriously quiet this entire time. “And you. I know I said you could bring a friend over, but I didn’t expect you to bring this soggy testicle!”

Taehyung just shrugs, his attention focused on his phone. “What?” He doesn’t look up, his fingers furiously occupied with something else. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Won’t do it again.” When he finishes his text, Seokjin’s phone dings soon right after. Jungkook’s eyes narrow suspiciously at the two, but neither of them seems to care.

You’re beginning to look flustered, mouth opening and closing as you figure out a way to salvage this mess of a dinner. If Jungkook had been slightly less preoccupied with his own swirling thoughts, he might have thought to comfort you or say something to alleviate the tension. Instead, he has his head bowed in shame, the bitter taste in his mouth unwilling to leave until the boy to his right decides to leave first.

“Anyway,” Yoongi clears his throat, causing Jimin to jump beside him. Normally, Yoongi never spoke all that often when they got together, usually content with eating and listening to the younger ones joke around. He isn’t looking at Jungkook, but he knows that Yoongi must have read his mind. He waves his chopsticks around vaguely at Namjoon. “You. You like woodworking, right?”

Startled from being directly addressed, Namjoon’s posture straightens slightly at the mention of his favorite activity. “Y-yes. It’s a bit of a side hobby that I do when I’m not busy with school or work. I’m… not very good. Just a novice, really.” He laughs, nervously propping his glasses up his nose until they’re nearly up to his forehead.

“Oh, hush! Namjoon is fantastic! I got him to make little wooden figurines to decorate the cafe over the summer, isn’t that right?” Seokjin interjects, reaching over Jungkook to slap Namjoon on the back.

“That’s right! Namjoon, I’ve seen your photos on Instagram! You’re definitely good at what you do,” you say, eyes sparkling with amazement. Namjoon coughs shyly into his hand, but it doesn’t hide the blush painting his cheeks.

Jungkook feels his blood pressure boiling, but he grits his teeth instead. “Interesting stuff,” he murmurs sarcastically, soft enough that only you wouldn’t hear. He senses Namjoon sagging back into his seat, but he doesn’t even feel remotely guilty that he had heard him. Even without looking up, he knows that Yoongi is sending him a warning look in response.

“Namjoon, that’s really cool. I’m an interior design major, so I’d love to see what you might think about the wood pieces I’m thinking of purchasing for an upcoming exhibit,” Yoongi says, trying to salvage the situation. Jungkook glares at him, but the elder doesn’t back down. Instead, he quirks a brow up, as if challenging him to say something.

Jimin gasps, a few bits of rice falling out of his mouth and into the plate of ssamjang. “That’s right! Yoongi, didn’t you say you needed something interesting as a center piece for the dining table? Maybe Namjoon can help you with that!”

Namjoon flushes, waving his hands and shaking his head fervently. “Ah, no! I don’t think I can help you with that. I’m sure you can ask plenty of other professionals who are more capable than I am.”

“No, Namjoon. You should help them,” Hoseok quips. He’s got a pout on his face, causing his cheeks to bunch up cutely. Like a fucked up squirrel, Jungkook thinks petulantly, hating how childish he was being but unable to stop. He steals a look at you to see that you’re staring at Hoseok, too. Hoseok pumps his fist up, “Namjoon’s great! He’s just being humble, that’s all.”

“I’ll be sure to ask you for help then, Namjoon.” Yoongi smiles wide, his pink gums appearing for the first time that night. It’s the kind of smile that makes you feel good, like being praised without words. Emboldened by Yoongi’s kindness, Namjoon smiles back, his previously dejection slowly washing away.

Jungkook feels betrayed. He can’t stand sitting in this room anymore, not when all his friends, most especially you, were being so buddy-buddy with this new unwelcome addition to your party. He puts down his chopsticks onto his dish, standing up and making his way over to the kitchen sink.

“Kook? What’s wrong?” You stand up as well, walking towards him. When you reach out to touch his shoulder, he accidentally slaps your hand away on instinct, head fuzzy with too many thoughts. You gasp, cradling your hand to your chest even though he hadn’t hit you that hard. You were mostly shocked, not used to seeing Jungkook so… touchy, and for seemingly no apparent reason. If only you knew, he thinks to himself.

“I have to go. Stomach ache,” is all he says before he’s grabbing his coat from the rack and shoving on his boots. He grabs his car keys, unwilling to turn around to see the expressions on all your faces. “I’m heading to the pharmacy. See you.” He slams the door shut behind him, leaving you more confused and hurt than ever before.

“Well, this sucks, huh?” Seokjin nudges Taehyung with his foot. Taehyung, to his credit, jabs Seokjin straight in the balls.

“Back to the drawing board,” he sighs to himself, rubbing his temples as the elder groans obscenities back at him. This is going to be harder than he thought.

#yoonkooknetwork #bts social media au #bts scenarios #bts texts #bts fake texts #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts #jungkook scenarios #namjoon scenarios #jungkook fake texts #namjoon fake texts #jungkook fanfiction #namjoon fanfiction #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #bangtan

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flowerflamestars · 4 years ago

Text

Nesta Under the Mountain part 3: acomaf, the later half

So while some extremely painful flirting is happening, so is plot. Azriel periodically disappears to try to infiltrate the Queens palace. Morrigan splits her time between Velaris and trying to keep Keir remotely in line. Amren and Lucien teach Nesta how to use magic, Cassian readies the legions for war.

So Nesta, unlike Feyre, has multiple sources for her most important questions: What the hell is Hybern doing? Trying to build an empire of old. Reaching for glory that isn’t there, because Prythian is wealthy.

Why Amarantha? Why was she so powerful?

It’s Rhysand who answers her, one day when they’re alone. He’s drinking on the roof- Nesta is inclined to make a comment about lordly behavior but doesn’t because she knows, she knows, from the look in his eyes, that he’s going to answer for real.

Amarantha liked to talk in bed. And Rhysand had, eventually, put the pieces together: Amarantha was the invading force alone, because Amarantha needed to earn Hyberns favor.

What did Hybern have? A kingdom crippled without its slaves. A King who’d ruled so long the world forgot his name. No heir, no other ruler. No son, only daughters.

Amarantha sought to earn her place in succession- with her father’s stolen magical secrets and a taste for vengeance.

Nesta accepts this, and has a drink.

There’s an interim of weeks, while Amren relearns a dead language and Azriel tries his last, worst plans. Nesta is so ready to tear out of her skin- Morrigan succeeds in getting Nesta to go out with her.

Morrigan pulls her over cobblestones to Ritas, and Nesta absolutely doesn’t tell her Lucien had found the place on his first city walkabout and been toasting their bitter victories there every one since.

Cassian, as he tends to wherever Nesta is, appears. They haven’t spoken since she came back with the book. Lucien trickles in with glitter in his hair, Azriel silent, offensively handsome drawing the light by his side.

And Morrigan watches. Cassian will spend the night quietly pressing fresh drinks into Nesta’s hand and glaring like absolute murder at any stranger who tries to get near. She sees how Cassian, her friend for five centuries, is contextualizing this: service, gladly rendered.

Understands he will make it small in his head and it means the opposite- the very opposite- that Nesta is letting him do either of those things for her. That she trusts him, to be near at all.

Morrigan and Nesta have a very different talk afterward than her and Feyre would have. Mor thinks it might be a good idea to make it really clear she herself doesn’t ever want Cassian, in case, that too, is standing in the way.

(Nesta also just...so clearly doesn’t have a single negative thought about Lucien doing...whatever Lucien does. They’ll get insouciant and mean and discuss the attractiveness of anyone. Nesta, unlike Feyre, reacts to queerness without even blinking)

So Mor and Nesta might not enjoy each other, exactly, but they respect one another. When Rhysand poses his insane Nesta you were mortal, let’s meet the Queens on mortal land plan, Morrigan, more than anyone, is the one who listens when Nesta explains that the Queens hate faeries.

Hate magic. Hate, even, it seems, the mortals that live along the wall for existing in proximity to Prythian.

It’s like letting go of a dream- for the chance of something real. Five centuries have passed, and that’s not much for Mor, but it’s everything, to mortals. Their bright lives are so quick, so valuable in an eyeblink- and that’s why Nesta’s here at all.

A mortal heart.

Azriel and Nesta team up- she scoffs that infiltration has fails, laughs outright at the idea she should be a diplomat, and proposes something else. They veritable army of spies, why are none of them mortal? Hundreds of humans work in Court of Queens. Voiceless, unrecognized. None of the magical protections would stop them.

So instead of Keir, or the Veritas, or her sisters- we bring back the lady mercenary. We bring in a whole bunch of lady mercenaries. A new network of information, passed from overlooked woman to overlooked woman, carried in shadows, all the way back to the Court of Night.

There’s no meeting. Because Hybern is already there.

And Nesta thinks its the most insane thing she’s ever heard- they want to live forever?

Morrigan tries to comfort her, Lucien tries to stop Morrigan, because he knows- Nesta doesn’t regret. And she tells them all that, looking over the war map, each grim face and strange shred of sympathy.

Nesta says, I know I’m a monster and I’m glad of it. I will never belong to just one Court, never go home. I cannot, because that life was taken from me and I am glad, because it will take a monster to protect the humans from other monsters.

And Rhysand says, oh so very quietly: You can belong.

But it’s lost, completely, in two things- the way Lucien has stepped around Azriel to let Nesta, not lean- Nesta, sober, leans on absolutely no one- but to be there, close, in her orbit, and Cassian standing up.

It’s the Queens Meeting promise, dark chocolate version. Cassian wipes away that one tear on her perfect face. Says to her and her alone like no one else is there, that he’d done monstrous things his entire life in the name of what was right. But he’d become something worse, unleash a whole ocean of blood, to protect the innocents who needed it. Die a monster, in defense of those mortals with her.

And Nesta just looks at him. Like she can see all the way through to his aching soul, and nods.

One commander to another. Absolute, perfect, understanding.

So what happens, if the mcguffin of the book cannot work?

Nesta says, like Cassian isn’t still staring at her, like she isn’t leaning into Lucien’s bodyheat like a refuge- the book is to control the Cauldron, but why can’t we just go after the Cauldron?

Steal it? Break it? Use it ourselves.

No ones answers particularly satisfy her- they can winnow. They can move unseen. There’s more power in this room than whole kingdoms possess, why the hell can’t they just break in, touch the Cauldron, and winnow away?

Cassian says it’s suicide. The castle is a deathtrap. Guards, wards, magic.

And, Rhysand adds, the Cauldron might not play along. It’s too powerful, too old to just treat like an object. The Cauldron itself could resist.

They’re all piling out of the townhouse, after the unsuccessful meeting, when Lucien goes white. Freezes.

And Nesta knows.

Knows that despite every precaution, the words that have never, ever escaped her lips in Prythian. Despite Tamlin dead- someone, somehow, found out that Prythian’s vengeance has two vulnerable, mortal sisters.

Nesta is grabbing onto Lucien to winnow away before anyone can ask what is wrong. Because something is wrong, so, so wrong- at the last second, Cassian snatches her hand, and ends up dragged along.

The Archeron estate is on fire.

There’s no time to ask- no time to talk. Cassian starts killing Hybernian soldiers left and right, no one here that can actually stop him.

Nesta runs straight into the fire, Lucien on her heels, keeping the flames away. Not that he needs to- Nesta is shimmering with power, every Court’s strength right on the surface, teeming to be used. She kills six men before she finds Elain, kicking and screaming in a soldiers arms.

That soldier loses his head- that man, Lucien turns to ash.

It’s Cassian who finds Feyre, hidden in the kitchen, standing on top of table having just dumped a small ocean on lye on her attackers. Despite making short work of the burnt, pissed off faeries, she’s still throwing shit at him when Nesta, screaming her name, is finally close enough to be heard.

Nesta almost stabs Cassian in the back getting to Feyre. Fey jumps off the table, straight at her sister- there’s no pause for thought, no flinch at her faery face and bloody hands, just an armload full of her taller baby sister, an easy weight to carry now.

When they make it out of the collapsing house, Azriel and Rhys are waiting.

It’s Rhys who says, in that tone of voice that makes Nesta want to beat him to death, the voice that insists, I understand, who says, you have a family?

Nesta doesn’t answer. Nesta doesn’t say a goddamn word to anyone at all except for Feyre and Elain as they take them back to Velaris. As she settles them in the roaring warmth of one of the palatial sitting rooms, wraps them in blankets. Conveys, solely with a head jerk and a glare, that Cassian should make himself useful and provide hot beverages.

Nesta doesn’t say anything until the burns are healed by Lucien, her sisters understand where they are, and what has happened.

It’s Feyre who snaps first and bodily pulls Nesta down on the couch between them. Elain who leans hard, shoulder to shoulder, and wipes the blood off Nesta’s face.

They love each other- they still love her, don’t blame her, and that is what makes Nesta’s choice.

She introduces them to Lucien, her friend. To the others without explanation, the odd bedfellows of war Nesta really is starting to like despite herself. Except Rhys. Rhys can fall in the damned ocean.

It’s a long, long evening, and they all get settled eventually- Feyre, in particular, with a shy smile and an extra mug of Cassian’s hot chocolate.

Everyone goes their separate ways, and Lucien, quietly, slips off to find Nesta in the dark.

He knows what she’s going to say. Hybern came for her family- Hybern almost killed her sisters. Nesta doesn’t give a fuck about the book, about Rhysand’s alliances, or hangup on the mortal queens- Nesta wants Hybern to pay.

Lucien sometimes looks at his life now- free, safe as he choses, the dark eyed smile of man who fears no part of him- and thinks it’s all because of Nesta Archeron’s heart. Nesta, who believed in loyalty enough to buy his safety. Nesta, who had every reason to hate Spring and still been the only person to look close enough and see, that Lucien was just as trapped.

No one in his life had ever given him that, so easily. No one had cared.

Nesta didn’t even think about it- he was in her corner and she was in his, friends. Best friends, only friends they had. Lucien would have still chosen her, every time.

Choses her now- Nesta says, I’m going tonight. I’m going alone. I’m not waiting any longer.

And Lucien squeezes her hand, and tells her, not alone.

They winnow to the castle like bone across the sea.

Lucien might not know why he can break wards, why foul enchantment can’t touch him, but he knows how to use it. How to fight and kill, and does just that. Lucien stands guard, Lucien gets Nesta to the Cauldron.

No Book, no plan, just this- Nesta’s will do what is right.

Two hands on the Cauldron- and Rhysand was right. It won’t move. It won’t be winnowed away, it pulls her in and speaks.

The story of the Cauldron is the story of a woman.

Power, power, power- endless potential, utilized to create. A thousand children, a million voices. But then her children grew- into their own power, their own politics and ways. They forgot her voice, that forget she’d made them- and they trapped her. Broke her. Imprisoned her.

Forgot she was not a cauldron- she was their Mother.

But the Mother was also once the Maiden, the Mother always becomes the Crone.

The Crones watches, as the dark night comes, and all life eventually ends.

She’d been imprisoned all over again.

Nesta Archeron, drowning in power, communicates by sheer force of screaming, raging will.

I was imprisoned, I stolen, I was remade against my will-

I was broken, and all I asked was that my family be safe- all I wanted- I am the child of every Court you made, I am the daughter of your power and i WILL NOT- I will not allow your sons to kill what is ours-

The Cauldron, seething, stills, if only for a moment.

Nesta thinks she’s won. Nesta realizes, too late, that she can smell blood. Lucien, stabbed and scrabbling, Nesta being dragged away from the Cauldron- the King had waited for her.

And how he crooned with joy- Nesta Archeron, the destroyer. Nesta Archeron, Prythian’s vengeance. Nesta Archeron you will be mine, you, you, you, finally, a worthy woman-

It’s a desperate, stupid ploy. Nesta can’t escape, Nesta can’t save Lucien, knows it from the blood dripping off his lips as he mouthes, a goodbye: love you, Archeron.

Nesta jumps into the Cauldron.

What comes out is not what went in- young as a fawn, old as the seas- Nesta doesn’t have to steal eternity. She’s already eternal, she’s already powerful in her rage-

But the Cauldron, who’d slept so long. Broken in peices, cold, welcomes her fire like the fierce magic of her first children, and gives her a gift.

Nesta’s no maiden or mother, but the Cauldron is happy to let the Crone out.

Death comes out of those waters, and mists the King of Hybern.

Scoops up her beloved companion, the fire that lights the way, and leaves the castle of the king unraveling behind her.

Nesta brings the Cauldron home.

The bloody bundle of Lucien is pulled from her arms on the floor of Rhysand’s townhouse, the Cauldron quiet behind them. It’s to Cassian who is frankly patting her down, searching for injuries, that Nesta says:

She wasn’t the only sister, and then passes out.

#this is so fun!#I am frankly overwhelmed by all the lovely things yall have said??#Nesta SHOULD be a protagnist

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va-3 · 4 years ago

Text

Part I

Second Half of my OC’s Information (the photo limit screwed me over)

The 1930s through the 1970s in Taika’s past is still a work in progress as well as the art soooo...probably a part three in the future?

Taika and Raspberry move to California the fall of 1986, although Raspberry finds a more permenant residence in Los Angeles while Taika finds herself on a more wandering path.

In the February of 1987 Taika wandered upon the town of Santa Carla, a town given credit for being home to those who wanted to disappear.

[side note: the jacket and jeans would be colored if only my damn markers hadn’t died]

Taika, a delinquent at heart as always, fit in like a puzzle piece. The punk-graffiti day life appealed to her like any adventure, and the smell of vampires lured her further into the town. She “cleared” a house (the act of killing the owners of a house and taking it for herself) as well as the garage. Taika acquired a 1987 Yamaha Virago via a rich douchebag she easily stole from and offed.

When the nightlife glowed at the boardwalk, it was apparent to the Santa Carla vampires that something was off, although they could not place it.

Taika did not make contact with the vampires for a while, seeming to distance herself just enough to make them curious about the uneasiness on the boardwalk since her arrival. Every now and then a body would turn up, a person snatched into an alleyway and partially eaten. It wasn’t until David met eyes with Taika across the boardwalk that it was clear to the Santa Carla vampires that there was another predator on their territory.

Taika’s aggressiveness and competitiveness are what pull the boys in first, that along with her scent, so much more intoxicating than any other human. A sort of playful rivalry grows between the calta and the vampires—who could last longer making trouble on the boardwalk without getting kicked off by Big Ed, who could score the biggest bonfire of surf nazis, and so on.

In the end it was Marko and Paul who put an end to the rivalry. Dwayne hadn’t thought he’d be able to really approach Taika and David was too prideful to do so. So the chaotic blonde duo took it upon themselves to invite her back to their cave as an act of trust as well as cease fire. David, no matter his pride, was quick to share about the fallen hotel made theirs. She was quick to catch on to the fact that they had been vampires much longer than they appeared. Dwayne brought it to her attention that she clearly knew what they were while they handn’t a single idea what she was.

With that question being asked, she explains what she is, and from there, their trusting relationship grows. The first time they hunt together is remotely terrifying to the vampires, considering she is a monster made for hunting them as well as other supernatural creatures.

The relationship between the boys and Taika blooms into something deeper, though it isn’t apparent to any of them at all at first. It was just small things they realized they loved about her, and her them. They fall in love with her odd little quirks, like how she always has change on her because it’s “shiny and distracting”, or how she’ll braid tiny braids into her hair and sometimes to boys’ hair, or how she makes beautifully delicate carvings out of the bones of their victims, or buys(steals) stuff for the cave while they all sleep, or organizes whatever she can anytime she comes the to cave, and really really likes coconut shrimp.

She steals the boy’s clothing whenever she leaves the cave during the day after a night of events, not that any of them complain. Marko’s crop tops are always her go to, while she wears Paul’s jewelry out and sometimes jeans that Dwayne doesn’t wear anymore. Sometimes Taika and David switch earrings, only because David is hesitant to give her any of his current clothing,. When he finds that he is more possesive of her than he’d openly admit, he gives her extra shirts of his to keep. Taika loves how the vampires smells mask her own; not only is it comforting, but it protects her from any lurking sevren(a post for another time).

Taika only needing three hours of sleep allows her to have a day life of her own, one that tends to breed chaos. Sometimes she’ll go surfing, something she’s become quite adept at, and show up the surf nazis on their own territory. Taika is the only member of the “biker gang” that the surfers ever see during the day, so they let out a lot of their aggression on her because they’re truly too cowardly to face the boys and her head on. The biggest mistake the surfers ever made was the day they decided it’d be humorous to steal her bike in broad daylight. She’d parked her bike(albeit illegally) on the boardwalk when she got to the beach, and when she returned later that day her bike was gone. Needless to say the surfers had invoked the wrath of someothing stronger than them on supernatural levels.

The boys knew something was up the instant they walked into the caves main area to find Taika waiting patiently at the exit. The only tthing she said was she needed a ride, one David gave happily. When the vampires had parked their bikes and Taika had muttered some words of reassurance to fill in her silence, she made a beeline for the carousel, following the ocean-spray smell of the asshole who’d taken her bike. He was standing in line with an arm draped over a girl who couldn’t have looked more trashy, his friends jostling one another as the line moved along. The four vampires followed behind the taller predator, their curiosity evident as they formed a half-crescent around her when she stopped. Taika was quick to clamp her arm onto the girl under the surfer and yank her out of the way, sending her flying onto her butt. Taika was mad, like, really mad. She hooked her hand into the collar of the surfers shirt, ignoring his protest when she yanked him to her.

“Where is it,” she hissed, putting forth minimal effort to keep herself from biting his face off in public. Marko watched in excitement, his thumb between his teeth as his eyes found the surfer’s. This guy was screwed. He raised his hands in surrender and feigned innocence, “Hey, I don’t know what your deal is lady, but I don’t know nothin about anything.”

His friends snickered behind Taika, clearly enjoying how angry they had made her. She narrowed her wild purple eyes, running her tongue over her teeth.

“Where’s my goddamn bike,” she demanded, her voice like ice down his spine. The vampires watched on, looking about occasionally to make sure Big Ed wouldn’t poke his nose where it didn’t belong. His friends burst into laughter again, shoving one another giddily. Taika had half the mind to throw the surfer in her hands at them like a bowling ball at pin, but she repressed her urges.

“You can make this easy or you can make it hard. Give my my bike and I won’t have to kill you.” He pressed his hands to the sides of his face and made a noise imitating a ghost. She stilled, silently in thought for a moment before she scoffed and let go of his shirt.

“Fine. I’ll find it myself. Boys,” she turned sharply on her heel and marched towards her vampires, hooking her hand into Dwayne’s in a way that was supposed to be gentle, but she was too mad. Paul slipped his hand into her back pocket and matched her pace.

“Yeah, run to your queers.”

The boys would swear on their lives that they’d never seen her spin around and tackle someone as fast as she tackled that surfer. He was in the ground in seconds, and Taika was planting hit after hit, taking the few blows he managed to land on her ribs like they were nothing. The surfers friends sprang into action, attacking the boys as well as trying to pry Taika from the much bigger surfer. The surfer’s face was bleeding all over, and he was fighting to stay awake. Taika wanted blood. Her bike’s absence was a small inconvenience that ensured a meal later that night, but the insult to her boys was a direct blow at her. They could trash talk her straight to her face, insult her, whatever made them feel powerful, but no one, no one, says anything about her boys. At last, she was whacked across the face by the baton belonging to Big Ed. The blow stunned her if anything, although she fell to the side and off of the offending surfer. Paul and Marko were quick to her side, helping her to her feet while also readying to catch her if she tried lunge out at the bleeding prick on the ground. “Off the boardwalk. All of you! Now!”

David was beaming with pride as Taika walked to him and Dwayne, wiping the surfers’ blood from her lip. The surfers backed from the bikers as they walked forwards, parting away from them to avoid Taika who walked in front, acting as an active threat to anyone who dared to even think about opposing them. When the five were clear of the crowd, Paul looped his arms around Taika and pulled her in for a smacking kiss. “That was awesome babe. Like, so fucking awesome.”

She burst into laughter, dropping her head onto his chest.

“Hell yeah it was,” added Marko, yanking her to him and spinning her like they were dancing. “I’m like two-hundred percent sure that guy pissed himself!”

Marko and Paul exchanged a highly energetic high-five, feeling the energy of the fight reigniting itself. Dwayne silently pulled her into him and kissed her forehead.

“Good to know you care, kitten,”at David’s words she beamed. Dwayne released her, and she bounced towards David, latching onto the lapels of his jacket. “I hope you know that I would do anything for you,” her sultry accent sent a delighted chill down his back. “All of you,” she sang, letting go of David’s jacket and spinning into Paul and Marko’s arms giggling like a school girl. From within the blond vampire sandwich, she raised her hand in the air to make a point. “Now, let’s go find my bike!”

The car belonging to the surfer who’d stolen Taika’s bike was found strung up in a junkyard the next day. The sight had been stupendous apparently, and ended up on the news. The owner of the car and his friends had a been absolutely delicious. After he’d returned Taika’s bike of course.

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ruffboijuliaburnsides · 5 years ago

Note

🥰 for the Witcher of course

A/N: Milos was created I believe by Fayet on AO3 who writes Hibernating With Ghosts which you should all read.

[surrounded by love]

Vesemir was the first person to love Geralt, he thinks. He doesn’t remember if his mother loved him, and he has significant doubts about whether she did or not, since she left him to be raised as a witcher.

But Vesemir was gentle with him, gave him a name of his own, took him back to Kaer Morhen with admonitions that it would be a hard life but that his brothers would always look after him. He didn’t understand the “if he survived” part until later, when he was a bit older, but it was true nonetheless. There was a fair amount of bickering and bullying among the younger boys who hadn’t gone through the trials yet, but if it came down to it they always had each other’s backs, just sometimes they weren’t nice about it.

Vesemir taught him to hold a sword, to fight with a sword, to keep moving even when he wanted to fall over. Vesemir, he learned years after the fact, had pushed back against the choice to put Geralt through a second round of the Trial of the Grasses, said that they needed a witcher who came through the first round in such (relatively) good shape. And it was Vesemir who was the kindest to him and the most protective of him, in his own rough and hard way, after he emerged from the second round different and strange and uncertain. And he’s never stopped.

Eskel loved Geralt immediately. They were of an age, though Geralt had been in Kaer Morhen longer when Vesemir brought Eskel to the youngest boys’ dormitories, but Eskel had been bigger. Just a little taller, just a little stronger.

“I’ll protect you,” the boy declared with complete childlike confidence, taking Geralt’s hand and jutting his chin out as if daring anyone to argue, and Geralt said, “Ok,” and let it happen.

When there were bullies or injuries or sickness, Eskel was always right there. When they came through the Trial of the Grasses (the first time, for Geralt), Eskel was worse off but still managed to crawl his way to Geralt’s cot and squeeze onto the tiny thing with him, holding him even as he trembled nearly out of his skin from the pain and the fear.

(Geral never tells Eskel how much that moment meant to him, even if he wasn’t so badly off. He never tells Eskel how much any of the things he’s done over the years mean to him. Eskel doesn’t need him to.)

And after the siege that destroyed their brothers and their home, Geralt came back to find Eskel had arrived much quicker than he had, that he and Vesemir had already dealt with the bodies and the worst of the bloodstains. And even hollow-eyed and grieving, the first thing Eskel does is walk to Geralt, pull him into the tightest hug of their lives, and ask if Geralt is okay. If that’s not love, Geralt has never experienced it, but he’s pretty sure it is.

Lambert loves Geralt in the same way he hates Geralt: loudly, intensely, and jealously. Their relationship is fraught, always. When Lambert is twelve, he begs Geralt to take him away onto the Path, promises he’ll earn his keep, and in the first big city he can go his own way. Geralt declines, and Lambert’s hatred crystalizes in that moment, from idolization to jealousy.

But other times, as he gets older, especially after the siege, Lambert also provides comfort. He’ll needle Geralt to the point of lashing out, and at Vesemir’s command to “take it outside!” they’ll get their swords and spar for an hour, sometimes more, and when the fight eventually ends, even though it almost always ends with Geralt’s sword at Lambert’s throat, Geralt feels better and Lambert looks satisfied and relieved.

It’s almost as if Lambert doesn’t know how to care for someone without hating them a bit too. Geralt tries not to think about it, because Lambert deserves to be able to pour out that love he carries inside himself without having to lace it with hatred and violence.

Coën loves Geralt, in the way you love a cousin you were never close to. The Gryphon isn’t a regular winter resident in Kaer Morhen, exactly, but then neither is Geralt.

Coën teaches him moves that his school perfected, that don’t naturally mesh with the way the wolves were trained to fight, and talks at length about Milos and how he learned it.

Milos was a smallish, blond-curled Wolf who was killed in the siege. By all accounts, from Vesemir and Eskel, it looked as though he’d died doing his best to protect the littlest of children. He’d travelled with Coën (inasmuch as witchers travelled with each other, which was to say mostly meeting up every few weeks in a previously determined location) for over a decade. They would never let Coën go with that sort of connection. They knew it was there.

And Coën is always a little worried about them all. He may not love them the way he loved Milos, but he doesn’t want what happened to Milos to happen to them.

Jaskier loves Geralt.

Sometimes facts are just facts, and a best friend will always love you.

Jaskier loves Geralt steady and true until Geralt can’t stand it anymore and breaks his heart and pushes him away.

(And even still, that broken shattered heart keeps loving him, even when he doesn’t remotely deserve it.)

Yennefer loves Geralt, though not always the way either of them want her to. The draw is the djinn, they realize eventually, but the feelings are her own. It’s complicated in the end - she doesn’t want to be kept or bound, and he doesn’t want to be left behind, and yet somehow both of them have managed to entangle the other in the things they want least.

“We could’ve been a great love story,” she says one evening, years down the line, sitting at the fireplace in Kaer Morhen’s library after dinner. “Something your bard would’ve been fit to burst about writing.”

“Hmm,” Geralt says, and falls silent. It’s a long time before he says, “I don’t think that was what we’re meant for,” just before Eskel and Jaskier come in bearing alcohol and glasses, Lambert carrying a tray of bread and cheese. It doesn’t leave Yen any space to argue, or agree, or say anything.

Geralt’s not sure he can handle hearing too much about exactly what kind of love she feels for him. Not just yet. He can’t quite handle the thought of Jaskier writing a song - well, another song - about them, especially after the heartbroken bitterness of the others.

Ciri loves Geralt with all the joy and power and carelessness a traumatized child could hope to love.

She is fire and passion and anger and bitterness and kindness, and it’s all Geralt can do to open himself to accepting all her emotions and trying his best to give back even half as good as he gets.

He doesn’t. But he tries. He’s her father, and he will always try.

Jaskier loves everyone. It’s not clear at first, how much he loves. Geralt sees him with Ciri, combing her hair and holding her after nightmares and singing silly songs and pretty songs and songs that he clearly wrote about Geralt but with more subtle imagery than Geralt’s used to from him. He’s always known Jaskier was talented, even if he didn’t enjoy the fruits of his labor, but this is something else entirely, a story that is clearly about Geralt, the most honest songs he’s heard about himself from the bard’s lips, but without ever once mentioning wolves or witchers. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t heard these songs, or why they exist. He’s afraid to ask. Ciri seems to already know them well.

Geralt sees Jaskier with his brothers, even with Coën, and feels like he might burn from the warmth in his chest. The lazy ease with which Jaskier interacts with them. It’s not that he’s not nervous, he clearly wants to make a good impression, but Jaskier is warm and open and most importantly not afraid of any of them.

He is never afraid, and it terrifies Geralt more than anything he can think of, and makes him improbably proud to have been the bard’s first witcher. His brothers love Jaskier right back, in their ways, Eskel with cheerful-yet-terrifying facts about monsters and witchers and the dark places of the world, Lambert with insults and very restrained physical harassment, Coën with solemn offers of helping him train to be a better swordsman than he is, so he can protect himself out in the world.

He sees Jaskier with Yennefer, their previous animosity softened somewhat. They still snipe at each other, pulling at the threads of each others’ insecurities and fears, but if they go too far, they back off, which they never did the first times they met. Geralt sees Jaskier say something saucy (judging by his expression) to Yen one day, and expects Yen to retaliate or slap him, but instead Yen laughs - bright and loud enough that even as far away as he is, Geralt can hear her - and kisses Jaskier’s cheek. He doesn’t know what they’ve built, but he’s glad it’s there, holding them up if he can’t be there.

Vesemir is an enigma in some ways, but Jaskier manages at least to get into his affections, judging by the strict tone he takes with Jaskier while he watches him train with Eskel or Coën, or the firm way he steers the exhausted bard to the dinner table, or the baths, or his own room. It makes Ciri laugh, and Jaskier always sighs when this happens, just following along with a teasing (but somehow also respectful), “Yes, Papa Vesemir.”

And then...

And then.

Jaskier loves Geralt.

It doesn’t make sense. And after some time away, Geralt can process and internalize that it was never meant to be solely platonic. That Jaskier was willing to take whatever love he could get, but that the love he gave was more than that. It overflowed to everyone in Geralt’s life, spilling over and over and over, doing its best to fill everyone up, and somehow Jaskier manages to do this without coming out of it drained and exhausted and unable to love.

He kisses Geralt one day, after singing Ciri to sleep.

“I can’t handle this anymore,” he admits, and Geralt doesn’t know what he means. He tries to say it, pained and uncertain and terrified that Jaskier’s leaving, but Jaskier watches his face and the strange openness of his expressions, and he smiles.

“You can’t either, can you?” he asks softly, and Geralt lets himself whimper, just a tiny bit. “Well,” Jaskier says, a spark of heat and delight in his voice as he presses against Geralt’s body. “We’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?”

Every important person in Geralt’s life loves him, and when it matters they all love each other as well. And while he doesn’t know how to process or handle this fact, he knows that he never in a million years would give it up for anything short of saving their lives.

And all the people around him continue to love him.

#the witcher #jaskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #geraskier #ciri #yennefer #eskel #vesemir #lambert #coen #the witcher fic #askbox meme #my fic #i'm actually really pleased with this

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bitchiha · 5 years ago

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Ok I know these characters are not the main ones but can I request some relationship hcs for Genma, Ibiki and Omoi? You can totally exclude some of them if you don’t want to write for them 🙈

A/N: Girl!! Thank you for this!! I honestly never thought about writing for these characters before, which is kinda weird bc I love all of them?? Anyways, without further ado..

✎ Relationship Headcanons!

Genma Shiranui

Ugh this man gives me tingles LNDJSJS He’s gives me immaculate vibes and he looks so cool all the time, but... you are the one thing that can really rattle this mans cool confident exterior down to the bone.

I think he has a baddie type. Like you know what you want, confidence, just bad bitch energy to the max!! Uhm also I feel like he digs long legs and girls who are taller than him. If you’re a baddie who’s tall and confident he’s floored. But even if you are short, it doesn’t matter as long as you can wipe the floor with him LMFAOOO. He likes Instagram baddies I’m sorry it’s true.

He strikes me as a smirky / flirty type of boyfriend. Like he’ll really fluster you up and have this cocky smirk the whole time he’s doing it. But you know how you can get payback that works every. single. time? If you take that toothpick out of his mouth and slip it into yours and walk away. He’ll stand there with his jaw to the floor like mhm, Yah, she just did that.

I feel like he also goes batshit crazy for nicknames, like he will call you any sort of pet name ever. Princess, babe, baby, (baby girl irks the fuck out of me so I’m not putting it here w/out saying that), honey, love, cutie, darling. But he likes it if you just call him the classic names like babe or baby, he does have this thing for being called darling though. Like if hes being a little shit and refuses to get the tv remote for you just plead and add the word “darling” To the end of the sentence and boom! Your wish is his command.

For cuddling I see him as more of a switch. Like he can be the big spoon some days and wrap you up in his arms and legs, but then he can also be the little spoon, really loves when you’ve got your leg around his waist or if youre playing with his hair.

He loves neck kisses, like he loves them. He really likes giving them, hes the type of person to purposely give you hickeys in noticeable places just to watch you struggle to cover them up. However, he loves receiving neck kisses too. Make sure to leave him a hickey for payback.

Another thing about Genma is that he’s super funny, like he can make you laugh until your ribs get tough. So he’s good at cheering you up and helping you loosen up in tough situations. Like he can lighten the mood instantly. This is great because if you two are ever arguing or if you’re in a bad mood he can just say a few jokes and get you laughing in no time.

He’s also the type to show off his relationship. Like if you aren’t a ninja, he will show you off to all his ninja friends and brag about you whenever an opportunity presents itself. If you are a ninja though, you would make the most badass duo on missions and he will flaunt it to his comrades almost obnoxiously. Ebisu gets annoyed the most.

So yah, he likes showing you off but don’t forget to show him off too! Like really show him off to your friends and get him all confident about himself. Feed his ego bc he will repay you for it later ;)

With all that being said, it’s safe to say he also digs pda. Like he doesn’t mind kissing, hand holding, wrapping an arm around you, just being affectionate overall. I mean he won’t be too crazy like he won’t shove his tongue down your throat or anything, but like a quick kiss never killed anyone.

Ibiki

I think one of the best and worst parts about dating Ibiki is that he can literally read you like a book. So he knows when youre feeling upset or uncomfortable or literally anything. It’s good because he can get you to open up about something that’s bothering you and be able to help you. It’s bad because he can end up pestering the shit out of you until he finds out what’s wrong.

Anyways, he’ll be a good gift giver, like he picks up on the way you look at a certain dress in a shopfront window, or how your gaze lingered a second longer than normal on a bracelet a passerby was wearing. Then boom, the next day you’ve got it.

I know he’s a tough guy, but look at the gif! LOOK AT IT!! He has that soft spot. Also remember that episode when we met his brother? I seen a glimmer of that soft spot! He will be gentle and caring with you 100% like I see him giving you sweet kisses when you’re at home together, playing with your hair, things like that, but only when you’re alone.

He can also be a tough love kind of guy sometimes as well. If you aren’t a ninja he will want to have you learn basic techniques for defending yourself. He may even teach you some ninja basics and a jutsu or two, just so you can protect yourself when he’s away on missions. If you’re a ninja he will teach you more complex jutsus.

In public he prefers to keep the relationship discreet because I mean, he has enemies. He’s not gonna want them to go after you in order to get to him. So at the most, he’ll put a hand on your back when you’re in public. But like I said, when you’re alone together he’s super affectionate.

He’s probably not like the best big spoon in terms of cuddling though, like I think he may accidentally crush you. And anyways I see him liking you being the one laying on him or draping a leg over him instead of the other way around.

His favourite types of kisses to give you are kisses on the top of your head and forehead kisses. Like before he leaves on some very important mission, he’ll give you a kiss on the top of your head. In the mornings when you two wake up he’ll give you a kiss on your forehead.

If you want to melt this guy though, you should give him kisses on his scars. Especially the ones on his face. He also likes when you trace your fingers over them. It makes him feel comforted and he’ll probably fall asleep while you do so.

Ibiki can be a hype man, but in a different sort of way. Like he won’t be cheering you on the loudest, but he’ll be the one who gives you the best advice behind the scenes. Like if you’re going on a difficult mission, he’ll tell you how smart and strong you are and how much of an excellent ninja you’ve become. Then he’ll slide some advice in on strategies with the information you told him.

I think he’s the best at helping you wind down after a mission, but he’s not there to do it very often because he’s busy a lot. When does though, he greets you at the door, runs you a bath and makes you something to eat. Then you can lay in bed or on the couch together and you can tell him all about the mission. Also if you return the favour when he comes back from missions, he will melt again.

Supportive and helpful bf, 10/10

Omoi

You love him, you really do but sometimes his over analyzing situations problem really gets on your nerves. Like he can be like “you wore a light sweater instead of a heavier one, does that mean you don’t want to stay out that long?” And ur like: bruh I just wore this sweater because it looked cuter.

He can also be more negative in situations (he’s cautious so he wants to always factor in the worst worst worst case scenarios) so it would be amazing if you could balance him out without getting hot headed with him. Like giving him some positive things to think about instead of focussing all on the bad will get him to be more reasonable, but only if youre the one to say it.

Will also 10/10 force you to listen to Bee’s rapping with him. If he’s forced to stay and suffer through front row seats of his masters horrible rapping, you best believe he’s making you suffer too. It’s a relationship afterall, so that means he’s gonna constantly drag you into things that are kinda crazy.

He gets lost in his thoughts a lot so you sometimes gotta keep him on track. Like you may have been talking about what you should eat for dinner, but he ends up talking about agriculture, so you have to cut in and make the decision yourself.

All his wild imaginative thoughts get you curious so when you’re just hanging out on a lazy day. You’ll set him on a ramble and he could just talk and talk and talk and you’ll nod your head until your sleeping quietly on his shoulder. He won’t notice until he asks you if you agree or something and you don’t reply. He would have been offended if you weren’t so cute.

Also, you wanna know what gets him going? So, sorta like what I said about Genma, If you just take that lollipop right out of his mouth and put it in yours... he’s gone, you’ve just sent him into another dimension and you probably can’t bring him back, it’s also a good way to get him to stop talking.

Man, Omoi just likes kissing. Like he doesn’t care what kind of kiss as long as its a kiss. He likes giving quick kisses on your lips and also on your cheek and likes when you do the same for him.

I think he likes being the big spoon when you’re cuddling but he doesn’t mind either way. Like if you wanna attach yourself to him one day then he will let you. He likes to talk while you’re cuddling too and probably ends up with his forehead resting in the crook of your neck. That’s like his go to spot.

He has a very good imagination so the two of you are always going on cool dates. Some of them turn out amazing, others result in you two running for your life. It’s never a dull date, though!

This also means he can get you the oddest gifts. Like sometimes he can really hit the mark with some really cool necklace or gadget, and other times your like: why did you think I would need a slug statue? Or like he’ll get you some obscure poster and it won’t even match your rooms colour theme. It’s okay though, it’s the thought that counts and even then, the gifts are still cool. I mean you can put the slug statue on your balcony, it’ll look nice there.

He doesn’t mind pda, I think he’d be really affectionate tbh. He loves slinging an arm around your waist or shoulders, or giving you a quick kiss. Like Genma, he doesn’t mind showing off his s/o. Like yes! All the villagers can admire this badass duo.

It may kill him, but he would ask Karui for relationship advice. She would probably just mess with him for the most part. That being said, Karui and you will get along 1000%. Lowkey likes you more than Omoi.

He needs to know you can take care of yourself in the event of an enemy attack, so he lowkey might surprise you with a sneak attack at random times, just to make sure you’re prepared. Like you could be watching tv at home and he just sneaks up on you and is like “boom! This is an enemy attack? Whatcha gonna do?” At first you would get scared, now you just sigh and walk away.

“What? So you’re just gonna walk away from the enemy? That’s not how this stuff works!”

#naruto headcanons #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader #genma shiranui #omoi #ibiki morino #anime headcanons

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begrudginglytumbling · 4 years ago

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Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

Time for the next installment of my Bai Yu Sitting Project.

Unlike Part One, this'll focus on just one drama because the damned thing is 38 episodes long and I'm pretty sure the man spends a large majority of his time sitting, leaning, and/or lounging.

It’s called Grow Up, a medical drama that I cannot find English subtitles for, and it's been around long enough that I doubt I ever will. But, hey, things like this are the whole point of trying to learn the language, right?

So, those willing to join me in the continuation of whatever this is turning out to be, get yourself comfortable and head on under the cut, this is gunna be long.

For little weirdos like me doing nonsense projects like this,Grow Up is a veritable treasure trove. I mean the man does this in the very first episode.

He makes them put the box down and immediately sits on it and pulls a leg up. And he’s making a point, I get it, I mean I don’t understand it, since, y’know, it’s all Chinese and I can only pick out a few characters, but why did the leg have to go up? He could’ve sprawled, done a bit of manspreading that I know he is fully capable of after watching this. But no. Leg up. Only one foot may touch the floor.

So, yeah, it’s a treasure trove of sittings and leanings and loungings. Even though his character, Xie Nanxiang, is technically only a ‘support role’, I’ve still managed to gather about 70 screenshots, and that doesn’t actually catalogue every time he sits, leans, and lounges.

I was going to try and whittle the screenshots down, but I couldn’t bring myself to really do it. I think I managed to cut about three? So when I say this is going to be long, I mean it’s going to be long and pretty image heavy.

I have however made attempts at organisation. So instead of just a random array of images, I’m going to group them under sets...that’s filming sets, not position sets.

We’ll start off with the nurse’s station/desk. You know those tall desks you get on wards? Yeah, if they were on that set then it was pretty much guaranteed Bai Yu would be leaning on it. And if he wasn’t leaning on it initally, then he would be by the end.

I didn’t take a screenshot every time he leaned, I managed to rein my madness in enough to not do that at least, but I’ve catalogued the different kinds of lean.

The first is the common arms crossed lean, which, I will grant you, makes sense to use, considering I don’t know anyone who hasn’t leant on this kind of desk like this.

The second is the single arm lean. He didn’t need to lean here. Would’ve been fine to stand. But this is Bai Yu we’re talking about. So lean he did.

Third is the casual backwards lean. He probably shouldn’t be leaning here. I’m fairly certain that’s one of the chaps they refer to as Laoshi talking to them. Everyone else is standing respectfully. Bai Yu? Nah mate, Imma lean.

And lastly - if a surface is at butt leaning height, Bai Yu will take advantage.

Something I’ve noticed while watching this (and bear in mind I skipped most of the non-Bai Yu parts), more often than not, Bai Yu is the only one to be leaning/sitting/whatever posture he’s taking. It’s kinda fascinating.

The next set is the hospital in general, so corridors and rooms that aren’t the staffroom because that’s a whole set in and of itself.

This one made me giggle, because the moment the woman he’s trying to impress left, he practically flung himself back on this bed and got comfy.

Like, did he need to do that? Probably not.

Was that going to stop him? Of course not.

Just as a side note, is patient privacy a thing? Like, yeah, they’ve the big curtains to draw around the bed. But that’s a big window, with no curtains, no frosted glass, and a path beside it. Are you inviting the general public to a show? The lack of cover is just begging nosy passersby to look in.

Of course leaning is a common occurrence in the hospital. But if you put a bar at Bai Yu butt height you really can’t expect anything different.

Also it always throws me when he turns sideways in the doctor’s coat. From the front, it gives him a width he doesn’t have, then he turns and suddenly goes flat, and you have to blink because for a moment you’d forgotten just how damn skinny the man is.

I dubbed this the ‘no help. just lean’ shot. Those are his parents, yet why would he help packing when there is a convienient windowsill at butt leaning height?

The vending machine is also a favoured leaning post, both in sickness and in health.

For the final lean of this set, can you spot him? This is an example of Bai Yu leaning while everyone is standing. It’s a legs crossed side lean.

And look at this. He gets up shortly after this, but of everyone in the room, he’s lounging on the sofa. He could’ve been standing like the rest of them. But that wouldn’t have the same effect now would it? I’m beginning to wonder if Bai Yu’s penchant for leaning, sitting, and lounging is not just him being...well him, but also an indicator of Bai Yu being a very clever man and a rather good actor.

Now then look at that face. Regardless of how ridiculous this Project is, I shall always be grateful to it for giving me the expressions Bai Yu has in this scene. His pouty, disgruntled, get-me-off-this-ride face makes me want to squish his cheeks.

I also find it endlessly amusing that although he is topless in this scene, great efforts seem to be made to keep him more or less covered as this is not one of Those dramas that have a Designated Bath/River/Body of Water Topless Scene.

Also injury and illness counts because he gets to spend his time lying about on a surgery table.

And finally for the general hospital set we have...this.

Everyone else is sitting on chairs and stools.

Bai Yu?

Weird animal toy thing.

He could’ve sat on a chair, a stool, even the floor. But no. He chose to sit on this. How is that even remotely comfortable?

(Still with me? We’re almost halfway...kinda. Maybe I should split this drama into two posts. We’ll see how long the next set is first)

From inside the hospital we move to the outside, because that’s natural progression right?

Outside the building we can encounter things such as the common sprawling lounge. He seems to enjoy hooking his elbows over things.

Then he will head to some planetarium type thing where they have the screen on the ceiling. And, just, I know he’s having some kind of emotional issues, with angsting over failed relationships and whatnot (ok to be fair I’m only assuming that’s the case given everything that’s going on, even though I don’t understand what’s being said). But! Bai Yu, sweetie, precious, dearest darling man, get your goddamn shoes off the headrest of the seat in front of you!

I want to bundle him up in a cuddle and thwack him with a rolled up newspaper at the same time.

Bai Yu and cars.

I’m becoming vaguely convince the man has a magnet or something in his arse.

And just look at this.

Bai Yu, sir. What’s that saying?

Once is chance, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern.

Y’know, I don’t know why, but I was actually surprised he could do sit-ups.

He was doing them before he was interrupted by the girl, then he ended up doing more with the bloke. Of course he didn’t get his arse off the ground when the bloke, one of the teachers/mentors, turned up. Unlike the girl who popped up to her feet.

There is something oddly appealing about the image he makes laid out on the grass though.

I mean, she looks like she’d probably welcome the sweet release of death, and if they’ve just done exercise then same, girl, same.

But he just makes you want to curl up next to him and have a nap or something.

This bar scene...*sigh*

He could sit in a chair.

But no. He chooses to lean on the pillar.

And when he does decide to sit. Does he pick a chair?

No.

No he does not.

The angsty roof, where people seem to go to have a bit of a cry or emotional stare off into the distance.

For a bit of context, this is how people tend to be on that roof.

They stand, they might lean. They have their angsty moment.

But Bai Yu?

Bai Yu is not built for this boring sort of crying angst.

No no no.

He must do more.

So he sits on the bloody wall, crossing his legs over the thin metal bar that is probably cutting off his circulation, while he has his emotional moment.

How did he even get up there? That is not a short wall. You can’t boost yourself up like it’s a kitchen counter. The pair standing next to each other in the context images? The taller one is Bai Yu, just look where the top of this wall comes to. There is no boosting onto this.

So did he hop up onto the table, then the wall, and walk around the edge until he got to this spot for his angsty moment?

*sigh* this man.

Last ones for outside the hospital.

They are, oddly enough, of instances where Bai Yu isn’t sitting.

I know, weird right?

But look, he could be sitting. The sofa is right next to him, and he falls asleep there not long after this. And it would make sense to sit on the sofa, or at least the arm of the sofa because that photo he’s looking at was on the table top, not on the shelf below it.

This is an instance where he probably should be sitting.

But no. Bai Yu goes against that and instead he just crouches. Because that makes sense right?

Then here!

Everyone else is sitting.

He has the perfect place to sit right behind him.

But he remains standing for the entirety of this scene. There is not even a hint that he might sit down in such a fashion as I’ve come to expect from this man.

But maybe, just maybe, that’s the point.

A point I’ll look at more in Part Three, because the length of this would be truly ridiculous if I kept going.

So! Next time on the Bai Yu Sitting Project! Dorm Rooms and Staffrooms! Awkward angles and did-your-roommate-seriously-just-tuck-you-in? moments!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

#Bai Yu #Bai Yu Sitting Project #Grow Up #Xie Nanxiang #I am aware this is something that in all likelihood only interests me #but I'm having fun #and that's all that really matters #so I shall continue with this ridiculousness

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sissytobitch10seconds · 4 years ago

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Hey! just saw your ask opening. I wanted to send prompt for Stony for marvel fics. New couple Steve/Tony,2012 Avengers. Top Tony / bottom Steve. very new relationship for Tony. Steve demands attention, pouts if Tony is late. Makes Tony eat and sleep. Always makes breakfast for Tony, takes lunch to his office sometimes. Changes things in the penthouse just a coushion or a painting and decorating. Tony feels its finally a home. Jarvis and bots treat Steve like the first lady of the tower. 1/3

Prompt Continued: Tony takes care of Steve, takes him out reintroduces him to New York, the world. Is always open for PDA. Makes Steve blush, Pulls chairs for him, opens door, kisses him on the cheek, in front of the team and Steve just turns red but cannot stop smiling. Tony is also romantic in the bedroom. Takes care of Steve but sometimes rough and feral and then Tony gets possessive and leaves hickeys. Steve gets really loud during sex and just moans and loses it, the Team laughs at and teases him for it.Steve makes sure they are always at team movie nights and dinner. Tony is just so giddy at his mother hening and holds him by the wais in the kitchen and just sways with him. Steve just makes his life worth living. He is Tony's sunshine. Tony is so thankful he asked him out and Steve said yes. Sometimes Steve just cuddles up to him and falls asleep in his arms. Cries when he is sad and Tony does everything to make him smile and just holds him. Tony falls for him harder than ever all over.

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Everything had changed when they finally got together. Steve often thought about that when he was wrapped in the warm arms of his lover with the familiar energy of the Arc Reactor pressed flush against his back. Tony slept so infrequently, though that too was changing, that mornings like this became time for Steve to mull over his thoughts like the slow mornings that he used to have with his mother back before she succumbed to tuberculosis.

While Steve did miss his old life, he also enjoyed the life that he had made for himself in the future. He loved Tony with his whole heart, and was beginning to love this modern version of New York. It was easier to understand it when he had someone that he trusted so much. Tony was there every little moment when Steve became overwhelmed. He seemed to have an endless kind of patience when Steve needed something repeated to him so that he could try to understand it. Everything was so strange and different. Nothing was even remotely similar to the way that it had been when Steve was living here, and none of it was anything like the science fiction books and shows that he had seen either. To anyone else, it would have been so overwhelming that it would literally be mind-shattering. But Steve had Tony standing by his side and helping him through it, so he knew he could handle it.

When he said that Tony was the love of his life, he really meant it. He hadn’t dated that many people before his transformation into Captain America because he had been too scrawny to be appealing to anyone. Bucky had always been there, and the two of them had basically skirted around dating for their entire adult lives. He and Peggy had basically done the same thing, but he considered it a bit more like dating because they had actually been physically intimate with each other. After both of those relationships, Tony had seemed like a complete blessing.

Now, with Tony and with the change in prudence due to the times, he was allowed to show how much he loved another man without fear. He didn’t have to worry about being beaten to death or shamed because of his sexuality. He didn’t have to worry about what his friends and family were going to think about his choice in partner, other than the fact that Tony wasn’t exactly a popular person because of his own history with sex. He could enjoy their relationship and didn’t have to worry about being slightly sexual or romantic around their friends.

That being said, Tony wasn’t exactly the easiest person to be dating. He often forgot to eat or sleep at regular, human times. Steve was able to remedy that pretty well because he didn’t have a lot of other things to occupy his time. He would bring Tony meals or drag him upstairs so that his lover would eat with the rest of their friends. He also found that because he was taller than his lover, he could just pick Tony up and literally drag him to bed when it was time for sleep. Tony used to have trouble sleeping due to his trauma, both from their first fight as the Avengers and because of the events that led to him becoming Iron Man. Steve was able to sooth these as well because he had more than his fair share of trauma and PTSD from the war and his own fights.

Outside of not knowing how to take care of himself, Tony could also be a right ass when it came to being compassionate. He had never learned how to deal with other humans when he was younger because of how isolated he had been (first because he didn’t go to public school and then because of how smart he was). They had more arguments than a lot of couples did about Tony saying or doing something that was rude and hurtful. Steve could see that he was at least making an attempt to become a better person and move on, though.

He could see it with the way Tony stopped before he said something degrading and hurtful, and chose to say something else. He could see when Tony took a moment to do something nice for someone else that didn’t just involve spending ungodly amounts of money on them. Tony was beginning to remember things like birthdays, anniversaries, names, and the like. He had remembered the other day that Clint was deaf and spent a while learning enough ASL to get by as well as making sonic arrows that wouldn’t interfere with his hearing aide. Clint had been very touched with it, even if he did thank Steve behind the scenes.

Tony was still a gentleman and a good person at the end of the day even if he didn’t know his way around people. He would do little things that someone might think he had an ulterior motive for. He did things like opening doors, pulling out chairs, and pretty much everything else that went with the old-timey chivalry that Steve had grown up dreaming about.

The blond flushed a little bit as his mind strayed over to their sexual life. Tony was just as romantic and gentlemanly when it came to the bedroom as well. He would often spend hours upon hours worshipping his lover’s body and telling him how much he loved him before they got to the good part. That didn’t mean that he acted like that all the time. Every so often, Steve’s beautiful, flawed boyfriend would get so jealous that he nearly went feral. Steve still loved that kind of sex, even if it did leave him feeling sore and covered in bruises the next day. Whatever kind of sex that they had, the blond always had hickies all the way up his neck the day before.

The team was perfectly fine with their relationship as well, despite coming from all different walks of life. They were almost like Steve’s new family, even if no family would ever really be complete without Bucky. They teased the two of them, but none of them dared to go beyond a certain point like he had almost been expecting. Bucky had other friends back when they were younger and those friends used to tease the two to the point of making even Bucky cry. Steve cried easily, so that wasn’t a hard accomplishment.

The team weren’t the only inhabitants in the tower to treat him nicely, though. The bots in Tony’s lab as well as JARVIS also seemed to be kinder than normal to him. With JARVIS it could have been because Steve wasn’t very familiar with the world and so gave the AI more attention and thanks than anyone else in the tower. With the bots it was most likely because Steve remembered all of their names and would actually say hello to them when they noticed him in the lab. The blond was very fond of the bots, and even fonder of the way that his boyfriend almost treated them like his children.

Tony let out a worried noise behind him, and that brought the blond out of his thoughts for just a moment. He rolled over and placed a comforting hand on his lover’s face. Steve brought their foreheads together and let out a small, comfortable sigh. Tony wiggled closer to the warmth of the blond, burying his face into Steve’s neck. The other man chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around the small man so that he was completely enveloped in his hold. Hopefully he would stay asleep for just a little longer, and manage to get the entire eight hours of sleep that they always aimed for.

The morning sun was beginning to creep into the huge floor to ceiling windows that ringed the room, illuminating the carpet and hardwood floor. During the remodel, Steve had been there to stop Tony from doing anything too impersonal. Pepper had been good for him while she lasted, but she decided that Tony was far too much for her to deal with when he was also being a superhero on top of all of his other issues. She hadn’t been the driving force in Tony’s life that he needed, anyway. Not the way that Steve could be.

With his help, Tony’s house had been turned into something resembling a bit more of a home instead of a barren place that you would see in a magazine. It wasn’t anything big, just choosing warmer colors and thinking of practicality instead of flashy-ness when they had been repairing the damage done by Loki during the Battle of New York. After that, Steve had subtly brought in throw blankets and some of his artwork. Slowly, with the help of the superhero and the rest of their team, the penthouse suite that Tony inhabited had become a home instead of just another space to occupy.

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