#in one of them rando picked me up from school for some reason

[chokchokk]

𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎-𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 | jung wooyoung x fem!reader

a one-sided (best) friends one night!wooyoung one-shot

“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : At least the car didn’t fall and crash, right? That’s what Wooyoung wants to believe.

"Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you."

[ now playing : " bonnie & clyde " ▸ dean ]

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : angst, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 3.2k

spotify link | series masterlist link

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜) : unreciprocated romantic feelings, sexual tension, best friends hooking up, one-night-stand, cabriolet-driving at night, open roof, illegal parking, making out, car sex; wooyoung masturbates to you, wooyoung’s present perspective/narrative, he's so horny and so in love, interactive?, at least quite confrontational

masterlist link | join my taglist

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : aight um... i wrote this? in one heart-breakingly missing my hubba bubba daddy dean hours session. i skipped over the second verse out of length and plot purposes + the translations provided are like 80% mine and if not then from genius <33

always grateful for for your likes, reblogs and feedback xoxo!!!

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : @r1kitti : @sanniesbunnie : @northerngalxy @sanwhalvr : @revehosh : @fandems

He looked at you, even though Wooyoung knew he shouldn't.

Right now, right now Could I tell you right now?

His eyes should have been on the road, his hands should have been on the steering wheel, and haha, his thoughts should have definitely been about your safety and not about how he wanted to either drive off a cliff or tear the clothes off your amazing fucking body, but you picked the second choice yourself anyway, didn’t you? Just getting that shirt off like it’s nothing, revealing yourself like it’s nothing, but… God, Y/N, you are everything to him, he had no other choice.

아직까지 깨어있니? 오늘 너의 하루는 어땠니? 아무 일도 없긴 뭐가 없어

(Are you still awake? ; How was your day today? What do you mean, 'nothing happened'?)

Wooyoung wants it to be your fault. Wants it to be your fault that when you called him, his brain was filled with the image of you swimming in the ocean in that thing of a bikini that you wore to make your ex jealous even if he was not present on any day during the vacation except in your head, and he desperately wants it to be your fault that, after you had disappeared with some dumb-fucking rando from the beach-bar for the evening, Wooyoung scoffed in malicious glee that you let him know it hadn’t led to anything, grabbing his keys immediately to pick you up from the place you didn't find luck at.

What he’s trying to say is that you’re really in luck he didn’t grab that liquor that night. 

가끔은 외면하려 해도 꽤 쉽지만은 않은 게 있어 I know 다 안다고

(I try to look away sometimes, but there are just some things that aren’t that easy, I know; I know it all)

But maybe being sober was the worst part.

He hid it well, Wooyoung thinks, or you were just too drunk to care, when you caught his curious gaze through the window, with your tits still sitting safely in the bra, your shirt already thrown out of the cabriolet.

“Woo!”, you laughed, and he can still hear the tenderness of your voice vividly, “eyes on the road~”

“Your tits looked bigger than I remember,” was his immediate answer, and your giggle was worth the cringe, “had to double-check.”

The last time he saw them was, what, middle-school truth or dare? Of course they grew since then, you were explaining in drunkenness and looked at your own set of boobs, while pushing them together, mumbling something about puberty, hormones and horny teenagers, but somehow finishing it off with, “Best friends bonding session!”

And Wooyoung is still puzzled about that.

내 앞에서 아닌 척 해도

(Even though in front of me, you pretend you don't)

Well, he grinned when you said it, but for no other reason that wasn’t just you looking so lovable under the moonlight, with your eyes sparkling with glee, and not because he found any sense in, god, whatever it means, “best friends bonding.”

“Bonding”? Sure. Seeing your tits had removed some boundaries— and in retrospect, mentioning that incident again must have been another little tease of yours, but be really honest for a second.

There are just some things “best friends” shouldn’t do.

… Shouldn’t have done, that is.

Bonnie and clyde, bonnie and clyde, one night

The nightly winds were hitting your open arms with you laughing full of life, when Wooyoung finally opened the roof for you. You’d been dying to do it, he had seen it by how you kept leaning outside the open window to feel the speed of the car hit your face, but he didn’t want to not see it. At least he still hates that he doesn’t know the expression you were wearing while you let out the most freeing, revivifying, crystal clear cheer.

He wants to believe that your cheeks were rosy, your eyes shiny, and that your lips were curled up into a smile, as you inhaled again and laughed all by yourself, watching the trees and mountains of the city pass by and draw long, ghostly trails from how fast the vehicle was moving.

It was extremely dangerous, all of it.

Who cares, who cares

The way Wooyoung drove without looking at the speed dial? God, so dangerous, but what’s way more dangerous is the way you became silent, and made him curious, made him believe that there were stars in the sky or something— and he thinks he’s still in the right for thinking that— and made him glance up to you.

Fuck, do you even know how hot you looked when you started to touch yourself down your bust? You probably don’t. You were feeling the textile of the lingerie scratch your fingers, warming your skin under the cold breezes, but when you cupped that perfect tit of yours, you threw your head back and fuck, he thinks if you had seen him you would think he was a pervert, and maybe he fucking is, because Wooyoung was definitely thinking the most perverted things he could do in that moment, all including his mouth, his fingers, his panging cock; Good fucking god, Y/N, you had his mind scorching, it only needed a little more spark and he would have exploded, right here and there.

친구 사이 친구 사이 alright

(Just friends, just friends alright)

So of course he tried to keep it cool as possible. Rested one hand relaxedly on the gear, the other on the steering wheel, and attempted to stare blankly to the front. Wooyoung ignored how you were arching your back to match the flow of how the air brushed against your ribs, tried to ignore how you let your fingertips disappear under the bra, and failed to not think about how delicious your nipple would taste between his lips.

친구 사이 친구 사이 alright

(Just friends, just friends alright)

He couldn’t take it anymore–  not being on you, in you, with you– and that’s why he said something.

“What do you think you’re doing there, bestie?”, Wooyoung remembers jokingly scoffing, driving into the highway so he didn’t have to think about the road too much, to give himself more time to admire the sexy body that you were touching.

“Nuthin~”, you lulled and he realizes now that Wooyoung had forgotten how drunk you’d been. Such a dumbass to think you were doing it all on purpose, isn’t he? You make him so fucking stupid.

“The guy really left you on the hook, huh?”, he spat, fingers gripping the wheel.

“Fuckin’ asshole left me so needy~”, you whined and maybe you tugged your own nipple or something, but he couldn’t have overhead that whiny, melodic moan that left your mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm~”

Who cares, who cares

What would you have done in his position? 

That’s the thing Wooyoung is most curious about. If it had been him drunk in your cabriolet, feeling down his, whatever, his cock, wouldn’t you have offered a helping hand, too? Because you’re a good friend like that?

He will never know the answer.

도망가 도망가 너와 난

(Escape, escape, you and I)

Wooyoung drove faster to make you come down, he won’t even try to deny that.

With a loud, brutal vroom, he drove the last mile with so many thoughts pinging inside his mind, with you continuing to give yourself goosebumps all over your skin, admiring how the hairs on your body went up over your own touch— knowing that it could be him doing that made Wooyoung grow desperate.

“Why did you stop? Where are we?”, you asked, and Wooyoung remains having no idea. Just somewhere in the middle of the highway, with cicadas chirping and filling out the silence that followed after he turned off the car motor, the roof above you closing down. A few miles away, there would have been a legal parking spot waiting for him, but Wooyoung immediately unbuckled his seatbelt, so it’s safe to say he didn’t give a fuck.

“Still needy, bestie?”

Who cares, who cares

God, you were so needy. It’s like you didn’t wait a second to question him or get any reassurance that this was what had been on his mind, because maybe you had already seen his bulge to know he was needy too, or maybe— and this is what Wooyoung would like to believe— you just wanted him that much.

Fuck, cut him some slack, okay? Wooyoung was just that surprised to find you crawling over to his driver’s seat, planting your ass immediately where he needed it the most. It was fucking magical, the friction of your body grinded over his erection was making him grunt and grope your ass cheeks.

“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”, you giggled, getting your hands behind his neck, driving yourself into his hard-on that he didn’t know could get even harder. It extended painfully under his belt, but fortunately, you were too much in heat to let him wait any longer.

Till we die, till we die

“Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,” Wooyoung cackled, and he still grins recalling how your gasp whirrs in his hazy memories.

It all feels so washed out, your impatient fingers unbuckling his belt, as Wooyoung bent the seat to the back, letting his head fall to his neck, as you got your lips pressed against his– just a lot of movements, a lot of feelings mixing up together, slurred into a motion of two people trying to have a fulfilling night.

Oh 너와 나의 마지막 일지라도

(Oh, even if this means our end)

Was it fulfilling to finally get a taste of your sweet saliva, your honeyed whimpers, when he grabbed you by your tits to prepare for sucking them numb? He doesn’t know it yet, but Wooyoung definitely can’t ignore how hard his cock has become in his boxer shorts to the memory of you looking down at him in awe, caressing his cheek, as he enveloped your perky tit with his mouth, immediately running his tongue over your sensitive nipple.

그럴지라도

(Even if)

The sounds, Y/N, your fucking sounds. Sounds Wooyoung thought he would never hear in his entire life, but definitely wished to hear once at least— and of course he’d be a fool to say he got enough of them, but making you whimper “Woo, fuck, please,” as he got his hand into panties and made you grind on his finger, and then hearing how your cunt squelched when you lowered yourself on it, is enough to make him cum tonight.

His hand is wrapped around his cock, face planted into his pillow so he can somehow simulate how it felt like being suffocated by your tits, Wooyoung recalls how tightly you clenched around his fingers, how wet you were, wet for him, just so fucking needy for your best friend, rutting your hips so his fingertip could graze your sweetest spot over and over again, moaning out “Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung,” over and over again.

Would you remember me?

“Y/N,” he growls, and it feels embarrassing to do so, but Wooyoung can’t help himself, he’s becoming delirious because of you, the seam of his shirt becoming absolutely soaked in his mouth, as he bites into it. “God, fuck, Y/N,” he lisps again, thrusting into his hand in the same way he thrusted into you, right after you were trembling around his fingers, whimpering out your first orgasm but not being satiated. 

Nah, nah, I'm just…

“You’re so fucking big,” is what you’d moaned out to boost his ego, but maybe it’s true, because Wooyoung does indeed feel quite big in his grip right now, craving your tight cunt, craving how it clutched around his girth, how hot and wet it felt like, when he fucked your eyes to roll behind your head, your spit glistening on your tongue, as your mouth fell open to never be closed again.

Alright 틀린 선택일지라도

(Alright, even if this is the wrong choice)

“Feels so fucking good, huh? Better than your dumb fucking ex?” 

“Yes, so so much fucking better than his dumb cock, Woo, please don’t stop!”

And maybe that was the moment. The moment his head snapped, when it all fractured, his feelings, his five years of pining, watching you be with some dumb fucking pricks, when he, Wooyoung, your “best friend”, could treat you so much better. 

With your hands taking off his hoodie, as he pistoned his hips into you, your warm sweat dripped onto his torso, and it felt like all the tears he’d shed for you had been worth it.

Alright 결국 후회할지라도

(Alright, even if we regret it after)

It didn’t matter how many tears he’d shed after, because the tears that flowed down your soft cheeks that night, with you weeping “make me cum, Woo, please make me cum so hard,” like he was pulling you by a string to mewl out words for him that still make his cock twitch, were precious droplets of your pleasure. And he’d do anything for it.

“Yeah?”, Wooyoung snickered, breathing into your face with a grin, feeling like he was owning the world by making you dumb on his dick, “You love my fucking cock, Y/N? You love your best friend’s cock?”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whined out, bouncing desperately over his hips that it was leaving your ass red, “I love your cock, Woo, I love it so, so, so fucking much!”

But somehow, you didn’t love it enough.

Oh baby Oh 널 울린 그 놈에게로 baby

(Oh baby Oh, even if you return to the guy who made you cry)

Wooyoung doesn’t want to think about it and just rut his pelvis into his hand so he can cum and unload in peace, but the thought of you being in his arms again, being used by your stupid fucking ex like a toy probably right fucking now, just makes him more aggressive, greedier, furious.

“Really? You love my cock, Y/N? You really love it?”

“Y-yes, W- Woo,” you moaned out, shakily, when he roughly pushed you over, your back landing on the steering wheel, a loud honk echoing through the empty streets. After Wooyoung’s eyes sunk in an angry, deep-seated red, it confused you, almost sobered you up, but of course you would turn sex-drunk in the matter of seconds, as he began to pound into you as if he was on a mission— a mission to make you remember.

Oh 이미 결과는 내 손을 떠났어 bang bang! (Oh, the result has been out of my hands anyways, bang bang!)

He could never cum like he did that night. It was raw, vulgar, dirty, filthy, absolutely pornographic how Wooyoung drove himself into you, moaning, grunting, breathing into your ear and sucking hickeys into your neck at every inch he got the chance to, so even if you’d wake up with the most hefty blackout, you could see what your best friend made of you in the mirror.

Just marks and signs of his infatuation all over your gorgeous body, and Wooyoung feels his jaw hurt, as he realizes how long he’s been biting down his shirt for imagining your love-bite bedecked breasts— Way too long, Y/N, way too fucking long.

Right now, right now Where you at right now

Five years, no, he counts a total of almost ten years of friendship with a sweet girl who remained fun and cheery, and then meeting her again as a woman who let herself be tossed around by some bastards because you don’t know what you’re worth, at least not worth to him. 

Wooyoung felt rich with you. He felt like he had everything, when you wrapped your arms around him, once he’d unloaded his hot cum inside you with a moan that was lost immediately in the steamy, hot space of his car, and kissed him, kissed Wooyoung on the lips, just because you, well, felt like doing it? Everything.

“I love you, Woo…”

Where am I right now Girl

He’s so pathetic for thinking that you meant it.

I want, want you to know Babe I want you to know

“I love you too, Y/N.”

How much I love you How much I need you

But Wooyoung doesn’t stop. 

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

He doesn’t stop tensing his abdomen to his own touch, he’s given up on thrusting into his hand because it could never, ever feel like you, and Wooyoung spits into his hand again to somehow make him believe he’s being fucked by your wet cunt again.

How much I love you How much I need you

Wooyoung repeats it over and over again in his head, your voice, your words, “I love it,” “I love you, Woo,” and before he can feel his heart drop, his hand accelerates, running and speeding over his shaft and his eyes close down into a tight squeeze, cum spurting out his needy cock.

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

The car still smelled of your sweet sweat, when he drove you to your place, lending you his hoodie because you, silly Y/N, had thrown your shirt out the window– and Wooyoung had sat there for a while, on his seat, staring into the the horn he had you pressed against, had you moaning his name his name against, had you cum, had you love him against.

How much I love you How much I need you

It’s sobering, yeah, that’s the word. 

Wooyoung being the only one to see through your lies the second they leave your mouth, and while he knows that “I love you, Woo” had been the truth, “yeah, it’s better if we forget about it, I guess” was a ruthless fucking lie and he hopes you know that, when Wooyoung presses a bitter like on the beach-selfie you’d posted with him, presenting yourself in that bikini so you could finally catch a certain someone’s attention. “BFF4L” had been the caption. You little jokester. 

Fucking heartbreaker.

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

He doesn’t hate you, no, in fact, he hates that his cock immediately jumps back up once Wooyoung sees that picture again, with both of you smiling and grinning into the camera, holding each other arm in arm like two good friends are supposed to do, he hates that his hands remember how soft, sweaty and hot your skin felt under his touch, and Wooyoung hates himself that he was the one to have spoken out the question of, “we should probably forget yesterday, huh?”

He should have just shut the fuck up and fucked you again all his heart desired instead.

How much I love you

Maybe he’s really that slow, maybe he just didn’t catch how your face dropped a little bit when Wooyoung asked you to let go of the euphoric memories of feeling free, fiery and idolized in his car, return to the draining feeling of needing to be seen by other eyes.

It is a cruel task, but there’s a bond, a bond between you and him. A stupid bond which goes beyond the way you covered up your marks to meet up other men that summer– that stupid fucking bond which makes Wooyoung ready to grab his keys again, any time you call him out because he’s your best friend in need, your ride-or-die.

How much I need you

Wooyoung remembers you, even though he knows he shouldn't.

[arabaka]

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. content warnings ⤸ sfw. serizawa katsuya x afab!reader. 1.6 words. while i don't mind ageless/minors interacting with my sfw posts, do NOT follow if you do not have your age in bio.

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. author's note ⤸ wowie this has been in my drafts for a thousand years so i thought, why not post <3 i do have a chapter 2 of sorts, just need to polish it up! thank you for reading <3

He never used to do this…

Play video games online, that is.

Serizawa Katsuya had long preferred games of the retro persuasion; they were a familiar comfort, much like a security blanket. For so long, he’d only known a controller with a single stick and two buttons and that had been enough for him. It still is, most days. But that all changed when he found a new reason to turn to his desktop computer, the one he saved up every 1-yen coin for from his job working for Reigen.

But it wasn’t the graphics of new age games that kept him coming back. It wasn’t the carousel of variety that got his chair rolling and his PC buzzing. No, it was never something– it was someone.

Now he knows your name but your username used to come first. It was how Serizawa met you after all, when he was still a complete and total noob to the pixel MMORPG you’ve frequented since day one. 

And like most things, your friendship with Serizawa happened by chance. You were helping a buddy out, shepherding them if you will because after all, they were trying the game out because of your incessant begging and pleading. You needed another person in your group after all, a certain raid requirement wouldn’t let you participate otherwise and you’d much rather go in with a group of friends than some randos that might steal all your loot in the end.

Serizawa just happened to be in your party when playing as a duo through the tutorial. After you tore down the first boss, an aquamarine monster made of slimy goo, Serizawa had typed an innocuous question in the main chat.

『 How do I equip the armor? 』

And you weren’t about to ignore the help of someone trying the game out for the first time. So what started as casual advice turned into a friend request popping in your inbox… Then spontaneous meet-ups…

『 Hey Gyudon-san! Are you going to be playing for long? 』

『 Hello! Yes, I have an hour. 』

『 Want to play together? 』

『 Yes! Thank you! 』

Turned into repeat plans…

『 Gyudon! I have a day off tomorrow, want to play? 』

『 Yes! That would be fun. I have night school but we can play after. 』

『 How are your studies going? Don’t play if you have a lot of work! Education comes first :p 』

『 No, not a lot. I want to play with you! 』

Which then led to chatting outside the game…

『 Gyudon-san, do you use LINE? 』

『 Yes, but mostly for schoolwork... 』

『 We should add each other! 』

『 Okay! 』

… And that’s when you learn his name for the first time. Serizawa Katsuya. The discoveries wouldn’t stop there; with the game no longer a crutch for communication, your conversations became a staple for having a good day. Good morning texts, good night texts. You messaged him when you saw something that reminded you of him, things that went beyond your shared interest in video games. He was so kind, you could feel his warmth over the phone even from simple messages; you have so many of them saved because sometimes, you need a pick me up from the man in particular. When you are on your phone with a smile that makes the apples of your cheeks glow, more often than not it’s because of him.

“You so like him.” One of your friends tells you one day over a bowl of ramen and they just know that it isn’t the steam rising from the broth that’s making your face clammy all of a sudden.

“He’s just– He’s a really good guy! Can’t I have friends?” You remark, stuffing your face with noodles and slurping loud enough to hopefully drown out the teasing that would soon follow. But you know they’re right. Who else do you think of when the lights are off and you’re left to ruminate in your bed, the mattress seeming larger and emptier as the days go by? Who else are you always looking forward to calling, even though phone calls aren’t really your thing? How many times have you looked up train tickets and times for Seasoning City, only to click back with your heart thumping in your eardrums?

“Don’t you want something more?” The words bounce off the walls in your head long after you say goodbye to your friend. 

Don’t you want something more? 

You can practically see the words when you close your eyes as you try to go to sleep but it’s deep into the night already and you’ve been tossing and turning for hours now. You stuff a groan into a pillow, cramming your face in the plush to silence the sounds even though you live alone. You groan because… you do want something more.

But does he?

You don’t know if you can live like this. Pining is one thing, something you’ve apparently been doing all this time (and you’ve known, god you’ve known but coming to stare it blank in the face is making your heart stutter at a pace that makes your chest cavity feel like it’s going to break at the seams if you’re not careful) but living in a shadow of doubt makes you feel even worse. 

“So that’s it,” You grumble into the pillow, “I gotta do it.” The pillow wilts in your arms from all the tight squeezing, the sheet blotted with a few drops of frustration straight from your scrunched up eyes. You grab your phone�� no, you’re not doing it now but you figure, since you’re already going down this path, you might as well soothe yourself by rereading some of his messages from earlier.

Only, when you go into your chat history with Serizawa, you see three little dots greeting you from the dimmed screen. 

🗨 I can’t sleep… I hope you’re resting well.

Your thumb jitters on the screen, your last swallow lodged in your throat as you read the message. 

🗨 Same here. 

That’s it? That’s all you can come up with? You don’t want the conversation to die here so you’re flipping through conversation notecards in your brain, chiding yourself for not having anything to say when suddenly, you get another message.

🗨 Would you like to talk on the phone?

You say yes. Your stomach bounces, fraught with nerves, but you say yes. And when you answer, you don’t see the face of your phone until hours later when the sun’s already come up and a new day’s begun. 

“I didn’t realize what time it was… Sorry…” Serizawa sheepishly apologies and you swear you hear him stifle a yawn at the tailend of his words. Cute.

“No, no– it’s okay! Talking with you always makes my day… Night. Day and night?” You stumble over your words but it seems to charm him nonetheless, Serizawa’s soft laughter a gift to your ears. You wish you could hear it in person.

“I– I feel the same.” He briskly coughs, almost like he’s working himself up to something, “I– I was going to ask you… My last week of school is coming up. My friends want to have dinner and I– I was wondering if–”

Your shirt wrinkles in your balled up fist, trying as you might to still the beating of your heart but failing.

“If you would like to come? Y-You don’t have to, of course!”

“I’d love to!” You blurt out, incapable of keeping your lips in an airtight seal for any longer. “J-Just tell me the date!”

And he does– it’s in two weeks, which feels like so much time and not enough all at once. You put him on speakerphone, smiling all the while as he scrambles for the right words; is he as worked up about this as you are? You’re already on the shuttle website, looking at the price of tickets, debating on buying them early just because you can. 

“... It’s going to be a lot of fun, you’ll like my friends,” Serizawa’s voice drifts back to focus, “and I’ve… Told them about you too.” He’s blushing, glad that you can’t see the red painted across his cheeks. 

Your grip wobbles, phone nearly falling on your face when you gasp, “You have?!” 

“A-Ah, should I not–”

“No, no! I’m – I’m happy you have! I’ve talked about you to my friends too… Besides the ones we play with…” How is it already 7 AM? “Hey, you don’t have to go to work or anything do you?” 

You hear him yelp, “I-I do! I have work! I gotta go! Sorry!” 

How can somebody sound cute even when they’re panicked? How smitten with this man are you? “Go, go, go! Talk to you later, Serizawa-kun!” 

The phone line ends. You wish it didn’t. You already miss him. You blink, your retinas burning from the lack of sleep, your lids suddenly so heavy you can’t help but… Close them for just a little bit…

And when you wake up – is that really the time? – you’re greeted with a flurry of notifications but the only one you really care about is the message from Serizawa.

🗨 Very tired at work but I am glad we got to talk. I hope we can do it again sometime. 

Sometime would end up being an understatement. You go a day, tops two without talking over the phone, the next few times coupled with alerts that remind you to GO TO SLEEP because otherwise… You’ll end up repeating a sleepless night and as cute as Serizawa’s eye bags were (he’d sent you a selfie for the first time that week, which you stared at for an amount of time you are still too embarrassed to utter aloud), you weren’t about to make them worse… Though you were tempted.

And so was he.

[ideas-4-stories]

NOOOOOOOO I LOST THE AU I WROTE FOR YOU 😭😭😭 I LITERALLY SENT IT AND TUMBLR SAID "NETWORK ERROR". L FOR THE WIFI. L. Not cool I'm literally crying I thought that AU was genius. It was a Teacher!Buggy AU with Crocomom and Dadhawk. + Shanks co-parenting Luffy with Crocodile. That note was so long I literally spent like 45 mins writing it here on your ask and it was just. Gone. Or I think it did. Why does life hate me. I'm just gonna be brief with this cuz I still think it's golden lmao. Croco and Mihawk work long hours so their kids (Luffy, Zoro, Perona) have to wait for a few hours until they're picked up by their parents. The school doesn't have school buses bc I said so (no I am not cruel it's just out of my budget /j). So Buggy takes the responsibility to keep them comfortable and entertained while they wait. Croco and Mihawk meeting this charming (and clown looking) blue-haired guy and they start courting him. Shanks gets dragged in on the courting bc of Luffy. Also he was already courting Buggy. I didn't write their process of courting I basically skipped and went,, their wedding will take part in a Goth castle. And the design are all sunshine and rainbows (literally). Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Vivi, Zoro and Luffy being in a class along with other kids. Franky, Robin, Jinbei and Brook are in higher classes. Chopper is atom. Not here in the world yet. Perona is like, 2-3yrs older than her brothers so. Yeah *awkwardly shuffles* (I love perona I swear-). Implied Zosan. Some rando: but you didn't imply shi— Me: Shhh I did. *gaslighting*. Law is also there in the classroom with lower grade strawhats. He's suffering. He only attends 3 days a week tho, he's mostly homeschooled bc of his sickness. He's homeschooled by Cora. (You can pry Law and Cora from my cold dead hands. You can separate them when I dissolve into ashes). Don't worry as he gets older his sickness is cured. Ofc he's cured by Cora. He's saved by Cora in every universe. In every AU. Every Era. Every life they will ever live. I will die on that hill– *applies the nobody dies/everyone lives tag on this AU* let my babies be happy pls. Let my man Cora live and travel the world with this emo boy (Law). Doffy isn't real, he can't hurt anyone. Ace is there. Sabo is there. Every One Piece character is out there somewhere. They're like hidden stones and you have 0.02% of finding them. I thought I was just making a Teacher!Buggy AU but then it turns into a Modern!AU for everyone. Let's gooooo. Sora divorces with Judge and remarry with Zeff so now Sanji lives with all his brothers and his sister. They get separate classrooms tho, and reiju is perona's age so she's besties with her. (I do not play by canon's rules with ages bc i live in my own world) They both tease their brothers (Sanji and Zoro) about their crushes on each other. The heart crew is there. Bepo is a dog, a very fluffy one. Kuina is alive. Kaya is there, same classroom with Usopp. I have no idea how to continue this lmao, but I do hope you find this interesting bc Buggy is 100% great with kids and probably teaches well bc he is a big nerd and makes lessons interesting. (Also, the whole reason why I wrote this instead of letting the idea slip through my mind like the others is bc the image of two goth men courting a clown looking mf was funny to me. So here we are lmao. The way I wrote this makes Shanks look like he's the person they let into their open relationship twice lol I'm so sorry 😭😭)

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

That's really sad, I really like this idea (though I see Shanks and Buggy more as siblings, but I understand the idea of Shuggy) It's fine that this became about so many people, I really like this.

Teacher!Buggy sounds so cool, you know that he's the flashiest and maybe one of the craziness of the things he'll do to get his students good things that will boost their learning. He knows that every kid might not have the same learning paths as others.

How many classes does this man teach? Who knows, too many for how much he gets paid. All teachers needs to get paid more.

I would think Jinbei and Brook being other fun teachers in the school, like Tom could be as well!

I really like this idea, and the imagine of two gothic men trying to court a clown-looking mf is really funny to me as well.

[olderthannetfic]

Reading for Context

I don’t really feel like scrolling through community profiles has taught me anything. People tend to just post normal tumblr posts and not tirades about shipping. I was told to just scroll OTNF go understand, but OTNF’s feed is just screenshots from a K-drama and idiots pestering him about pronouns for some reason. Is there like a specific way to do it? So… i’ve actually never understood the social conventions of other people in any group i’ve been in. I haven’t really had in real life friends since middle school.

This is actually kind of an interesting question.

First, let me be plain, what you've been asking repeatedly over the last couple of weeks or however long it's been is this:

How does a neurodivergent person who fundamentally is not good at social nuance, reading comprehension, and picking up on context get better at those things?

I've known people whose parents hired coaches to work with them on a weekly basis for years. "How does socializing work?" is not a simple question.

Teaching reading comprehension is hard too.

I vaguely remember a lot of times in school where English teachers spent whole semesters trying to get us to understand not only what figurative language meant in context but how to detect that it was present in the first place. I still remember this one 9th grade classmate wailing "But why does it have to be a metaphor?"

What you're asking about is something most people work on for decades, yet you want randos to summarize it simply in a few sentences.

--

The first thing that jumps out at me here is the superficiality of how you're describing engaging.

When people say to lurk, they're talking about a deep engagement with a community. They're talking about reading closely, including comments, for a month, not scrolling back through a week and just skimming the top-level posts.

Did you open the replies on my tumblr posts where other people besides me are discussing things? Did you look at the reblogs with content, and not just the ones I reblogged back onto my own tumblr?

Beyond the exact number of days you should read or the exact procedure, people are talking about a very in-depth kind of engagement in general. The point is that it's difficult to just come into a new space and know how it works without studying it.

For example, I talk about oldschool fanfic stuff a lot. A logical default assumption is that I'm a woman. Are you not familiar enough with fanfic spaces to assume that, or are you coming from Spacebattles or something?

Why on earth would you default to 'him'?

I'm not insulted: it just shows a staggering lack of clue about the context you found me in.

I've linked you to my patreon where you can see my pro writing pseudonym, which is obviously female. My tumblr itself links to my pro writing and gives my actual name, which is also fairly obviously feminine. I've also recently talked about being pregnant. Yes, it was oblique and I only confirmed it in the replies, not a top-level post, but plenty of regulars noticed. (Yes, yes, biology is not gender, but still...)

There are plenty of clues I'm not a "him", but you missed them all. I don't care about pronouns, but I do care about people who don't bother to or aren't capable of reading closely.

Quite a few people have sent me asks asking what I'm watching. I have repeatedly said that it's DMBJ and described it as "the Chinese tomb raider franchise". Yet you assumed it was Korean for some reason. This suggests that you just scrolled through quickly and did not actually thoroughly read the text of the posts or the replies. It suggests that your eyes skipped over the boring-looking short text posts in between the picspams.

It suggests you didn't bother to google what I was watching when I did say the name because you don't give enough of a shit to bother. That doesn't suggest a very high level of interest in my blog or any reason I should cut you any slack or pay attention to what you think.

It also suggests that you didn't look back all that far. I've been posting a lot about DMBJ, but I only started downloading Ultimate Note on July 15th and Tomb of the Sea on August 1st.

--

If you want to understand a community, scrolling hurriedly through one month of content and not actually reading it closely is insufficient.

This is what people mean when they say you're not willing to put in the work and want other people to do it for you.

[siriannatan]

Empires Business Group

Help, I wrote this fic within two days. Why can't I stop coming up with new wacky AU's?

It wasn't originally meant to be A/B/O fic but here we are and I'm frankly happy I made it one :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55946677/chapters/142071823

fWhip knew the inner workings of the Empires Group really well. Grandfather has been preparing him to take over after him since he was twelve. Since all his sons and nephews proved to be useless for the job. You see, grandpa did not like nepotism but he also didn't want the company to goto some rando. So he picked his youngest grandson. One of only two alphas in the generation.

And quite honestly, twelve years later, after finishing fancy business school overseas, fWhip didn't mind. He was actually looking forward to it. Especially with grandfather's deteriorating health.

So here he was. Outside the main building of the marketing and client contact department he was. It housed all the main marketing and client contact sections of all the companies under the Empires Group. Very important building. And today fWhip was starting his training period in the marketing team of their electronics company. Even if he had some experience watching his grandfather over the years, this was brand new.

And he was excited for multiple reasons. Main being the man in charge. Scott S. Major. An old classmate of fWhip's from a fancy private high school. They were never close back then. Not with fWhip being a sheltered nerd at the time who couldn't care less about dating. But things changed and he didn't feel bad about his crush from back then. Or that he was an alpha.

Oh, and grandfather really liked Scott. He once told fWhip, to his face, that if he wasn't good enough he'd leave the company to Scott. If he was an alpha that is. One more reason to be excited about their ‘reunion’.

The downside was that his great-aunt sent her own grandson, only grandson, there a month prior. Apparently Jimmy didn't have anything better to do. Like graduating to do at the time. Oh, and he was the only other alpha in the generation. So being near him was bound to be fun.

fWhip never liked Jimmy, but that could be their grandparents pitting them against each other, so he was looking forward to proving he was a serious and competent individual.

After a fast introduction at the human resources he was given a shiny new employee badge and led to the fifth floor where the electronics marketing department was located. And fWhip's breath was knocked out as soon as the elevator opened.

Seeing Scott would be one thing, seeing Scott berating a line of employees? Now that was something he'd remember for a long time. Not to mention that low, barely there because of the damn blockers smell. That probably hit fWhip more than just seeing the first and only omega he was ever interested in

“Director Major?” The human resources lady shakily announced their presence. “The new employee is here.”

Scott turned and full force of his glare landed on fWhip. Who like who but Scott would have been told exactly who fWhip was. And man, did he grow up even prettier than he was before. Oh and the way he twitched when he realised that he'd have a second alpha. fWhip wanted to hug him.

“fWhip Empires (A/M: lazy, I know), grandfather sent me to get some, as he put it, real experience,” fWhip introduced himself with a smile as the HR lady just scurried away. Scott's reputation was really something. She wasn't so nervous with just fWhip, the future CEO.

“Not going to even try hiding that grandpa sent you?” Scott huffed, looking down at fWhip, not figuratively and literally. And did fWhip like men taller than him? No. But he could make an excuse for Scott. “And you,” he suddenly picked up a styrofoam cup and pointed it at Jimmy, “bring me a strong coffee, and fast, I have a meeting in ten.”

“I might as well and save having to prove myself twice,” fWhip shrugged. “Not that I think you'd care, I was more worried about, how grandfather would put it, flying monkeys. He used to call the board of directors that. Twelve years old me sure was disappointed there were no actual monkeys when he dragged me to my first meeting,” he chuckled.

“Whatever. Oli, show him around,” Scott rolled us eyes. No wonder grandfather likes him. fWhip did his best to hide his amusement when Jimmy brought the coffee. Grandma and his sister could not protect him from Scott.

It was hard to contain a giggle as Scott took a sip, grimaced, and poured the coffee in the trash. “I said strong not bitter, and don't worry, my stance has nothing to do with tabloids, just your terrible monthly review, so do put in some effort if you don't want me sending you back to granny,” Scott glared, each work making fWhip more and more giddy to find a chance, any chance, to talk to him one on one outside work.

Everyone was silent as Scott left. It was likely a meeting of heads of all department heads in the building. They started grumbling once Scott stepped into the elevator and the door closed after him.

“Why is everyone so grumpy?” fWhip asked Oli as he was being introduced to all the current projects. There was already a pile of papers on his desk. Scott wasted no time putting him to work.

“Don't tell anyone I said it, but everyone kind of hoped you being here would mellow him out, since you're close to the chairman and all that. But it seems he's even angrier,” Oli sighed, running his neck. “He's always in a bad mood so don't worry about it too much. He didn't get himself nicknamed Ice Director over nothing.”

fWhip hummed tilting his head. Jimmy seemed to be particularly annoyed.

“Well, I do get being annoyed about someone slacking at work like Jimmy has been. But the coffee? That's overkill, no?” Oli seemed to take it as fWhip taking interest in their plight.

“But he didn't mention wanting it bitter, right?” fWhip smiled, clearly shocking the whole department. What a bunch of cowards. How was this department working at all.

“Just stay out of his way, since you're going to be here temporarily,” Oli sighed, he clearly didn't want Scott annoyed any more than he usually was.

“Don't do anything Jimmy would do?” fWhip grinned as Oli carried on the short tour.

Not that fWhip really needed it. He knew, at least in theory, exactly how the place should work. So he stayed quiet and just nodded along despite it being boring. Scott told him to have one after all.

But once it was over he didn't accept the very generous offers of help with his pile of smaller advertising campaigns for specific products launching soon. He tackled it by himself. Drafting as detailed a plan as he could without it taking forever. An hour per campaign he told himself. When Scott came back he already had three done.

By the end of the day most of his pile was gone. He didn't miss the look Scott gave his desk as everyone was leaving. It was just the start of the month. All current projects were in the beginning phases. No need to do overtime. But it was still him and Scott leaving as the last two. Good half an hour after the previous person.

And it resulted in them being alone at the parking lot even if there were more cars. And their cars were even apparently parked close. Perfect chance.

“It's been a while, Scott,” fWhip started a conversation, clearly shocking his superior.

“We met before?” At least Scott didn't ignore him.

“We were in the same class in highschool, not that I'd ever expect you'd recognise me. I was… I'm glad I grew out of that phase. Imagine a tiny nerd in massive, round, thick glasses always hunched over a book,” he chuckled at the memory of himself. He'd never let himself leave a house looking like that now.

Scott was silent for a moment. “I think I remember. What of it? It's not like we were in any way close back then,” his eyes narrowed as he likely looked for any reason to tell fWhip to go to hell.

“Yea, but we were still in the same class,” fWhip chuckled, taking a couple steps forward towards Scott. “I think we should go out for drinks, for old time's sake. How does Friday sound?” He offered, leaning closer and closer, caging Scott against his own car. Last words a whisper in the manager's ear.

He could feel Scott's breath on his neck. Could see him shaking slightly. Did he go too far? “I'll think about it but you better be not expecting anything,” or maybe not. He could not help but smirk.

“Of course, just old school acquaintances having a drink together,” fWhip nodded, his smile not faltering for a second. He really hoped Scott would agree.

“I'll think about it and let you know,” Scott repeated, pushing against fWhip. “And do wear a scent blocker to the office, I have enough headaches without you,” he added with a glare as fWhip stepped back.

“Very well then, I'll see you tomorrow director,” fWhip smiled and turned to go to his car. Throwing a wink over his shoulder for a good measure. He was used to getting what he wanted, and what he wanted now was Scott.

On his second day fWhip waltzed into the office five minutes before he was supposed to start. Did grandfather make it so he starts later than everyone else? Sure, but it meant he stayed that much later. And ended his day at the same time Scott did. The scent blocker was uncomfortable but it was a personal request form Scott so he'd wear it. And rip it off as soon as he was home. Who cares how long damn things are supposed to last.

Anyway, everyone suspiciously eyed the two coffees in his hands. Likely thinking, he didn't.

But he did. He got Scott coffee. “I was getting a coffee for myself and thought the director might like one,” he smiled as everyone held their breath bracing for a catastrophe.

Scott eyed the coffee and to everyone's shock took a sip just to drop it into the garbage. Eyes on fWhip the whole time. “Too sweet,” he stated coldly.

“Okay, so just four spoons next time,” fWhip nodded, his positivity not wavering.

"Just get to work, and come here when you're done,” Scott scoffed and returned to his work, ignoring the collective sigh of relief. Yes, seeing Scott glare early in the day was the best.

fWhip nodded and practically skipped to his desk. The small stack he left there the last day was just as he left it. Nothing new. With a shrug he took a sip of coffee and got to work.

He finished in four hours. Everyone stared at him as he brought his stack to Scott. “All done,” he said with a grin.

Scott picked up the first piece of paper, glazed over it, shrugged and passed fWhip a different stack. “Shred it all, it's last month's small campaigns, all of them either done and waiting to air or already airing,” he explained and started looking over the papers fWhip just dropped.

Some people stared in shock. Others chose to keep their heads low. Director really just sent the chairman's favourite alpha grandson to do grunt work instead of one of them? And how was fWhip done with month's work of projects this fast? Did they get a second monster to keep up with instead of the relief they expected?

fWhip nodded and dutifully carried the stack to the shredder. He had time so he went slowly. Overfilling the machine could be bad as well. Shockingly, among the papers he found an empty sticky note. He pulled it off just to check there wasn't anything on the back.

There was. ‘Friday after work, I'm driving’ it said and fWhip instantly knew it was Scott agreeing to go out for drinks.

Was he a bit disappointed he couldn't pick a spot and that they'd be in their work clothes? A bit, yes. But he was mostly happy that Scott agreed to go out together. And a bit more angry he'd probably have to wear a blocker for that. Oh well, it was for Scott.

Scott had him running errands, fixing paperwork of other members of the team and running coffee for him - four was the right count of sugar scoops - for the rest of the week. He likely didn't want to put any more pressure on the big project the rest of the team has been working on. Or spook the client. His name was pretty recognizable.

On Friday fWhip managed to get a ride to the office with Gem. She had some errands to run and lucky for him the building was along her way. Unfortunately it was raining. Not that fWhip cared. It wasn't like the parking was that far. He'd be dry in no time anyway.

First thing was of course making himself and Scott coffee. As soon as Scott looked up fWhip realised something. The brand of blockers he got was not waterproof. The pretty omega’s expression instantly got grumpier than it was. “What did I tell you about the stench?” He asked and everyone tensed.

“I'm very sorry, I didn't realise this brand was no good in the rain,” fWhip chuckled but refused to drop the cheerful act. “I'll be sure to check twice next time, and get a new one as soon as I can,” he added, bowing to emphasise how sorry he was.

“It's just a scent, no need to overreact,” Scott sighed as the whole department tensed.

“No, no, I fully understand it can make some uncomfortable,” fWhip shook his head and went to his desk. Today he had the whole archive to organise. Apparently a whole bunch of someone's didn't feel like archiving files correctly. He was likely stuck with this for a while. Not that he's complaining. Grandfather sent him here to work and observe Scott. Knowing the old man he hoped they'd get along and maybe fall in love or something.

It'd be nice to be able to hug and spoil Scott, yes. But fWhip wouldn't push. Starting with being friends seemed like a good idea.

Rain stopping by the time he and Scott left the office was the best thing all day. Oh, and Scott scolding Jimmy about using phone for personal reasons at work. That was pretty good too.

[margridarnauds]

Sleepover ask time! I give you permission to rant about shit on main

That's an ungodly amount of power to give me, let's go.

This is going to be unpopular with some people, and I totally get why, but...every once in a while on this site, there's a lot of furor raised over "You CAN'T call the Aeneid/The Divine Comedy/Arthuriana fanfic, you don't UNDERSTAND, they're MEDITATIONS on fate/divine will/mortality, they're DEEP." Many outraged posts made, blood spilled, lives lost on Tumblr as the most unlikeable people that you know on both sides write bad faith thinkpieces that wildly miss the point. And...I get it. I do. I emphasize that I get it. These texts are, overwhelmingly, being manufactured in a time before copyright protections, as we know them, existed. (Though Cervantes, in the 17th century, provided an early example of an author...very firmly asserting his own exclusive ownership of the characters.) These works, rather than being fanfiction in and of themselves, are part of a cultural tradition of transformative borrowing and exchange that fanfiction is ALSO a part of.

...but that being said. Lads. Lighten up.

People who actually work with stuff day in, day out don't care as much as randos on Tumblr, or self proclaimed English Majors™ who couldn't hack grad school and have decided that, in retribution, they're going to subject us to complaining about YA, fanfic, pick your poison here (mandatory "Education =/= intelligence or critical thinking skills, especially given the RIDICULOUS cost of a degree in the States, but if you're going to promote yourself as an English Major™, and play into that hierarchical system, I reserve the right to call you on it and pull rank.) I've sat at tables filled with medievalists who will gleefully call Arthuriana fanfic (we also had a lovely discussion on MPreg, Omegaverse, and protecting curious senior scholars from the former two when they go on their regular sojourns across the internet.) I've read articles from respected medievalists that will adopt a transformative approach towards reading texts, arguing that they are, essentially, fanfiction. (Matthieu Boyd's paper on Mesca Ulaid, for the interested.) I've talked to tenured Ivy League professors who will compare respected medieval literary traditions to fanfic. (Three, actually.) As a soon to be published Arthurian scholar myself, *I* don't care, and I'd like to think that, at this point, I've earned my laurels enough to have an opinion.

Like, I just think we have to consider what our goal is here -- is it to educate people on the way that pre-modern literary cultures worked, or is it to make ourselves feel superior? Is it because we want to clarify that our own situation re: copyright is the exception rather than the norm historically, or is it because we feel somehow threatened by the comparison between something that we hold to be significant to something that we hold insignificant, especially since the latter is something that is something that can be written by anyone as opposed to a specific literary elite that overwhelmingly consisted of men? When we're here, in our capacity as ambassadors for our fields, are we doing more harm than good by trying to puff ourselves up? Are we actually ENCOURAGING people to engage with this stuff, or are we making them think that we're all Like That?

When I was younger, 17-18, I was terrified of interacting with people who did this sort of thing specifically because there was one person on here, back in the day, who was SUCH a prickly asshole that I was scared. And if I hadn't, I wouldn't have entered grad school for this, I never would've gotten my MA, I wouldn't have gotten into my PhD program. God knows how many other people might have had similar experiences. That matters more to me than whether Arthuriana technically counts as fic.

...also this is the funny meme website. The reason why a lot of people aren't giving the most nuanced takes on medieval literary networks is specifically because, besides being laypeople...this is the funny meme website. None of us are making any of this into a conference paper, it isn't going on our CVs, so I'm not going to focus on getting all the nuances down right because. This is the funny meme website. I go here. To make funny memes. And to escape my program. And if you have enough time and energy to get angry, wonderful, fight the good fight, but, ala the Cervantes example above, you might find yourself tilting at windmills that you've mainly created.

[hanayanaa]

oops I slept all day again but i had some really cool ass dreams and I wanted to finish them lmfao

1) i was al and he had killed himself and came back as a ghost and the majority of the dream was just floating around random places and into them. we did so many home invasions.

i went to his old school to traumatize his old bullies with his ghostly form

i think he comes back to life maybe at the end im not sure because i remember rosie supporting him walking cuz he wasn't too stable on his feet for some reason

also we went to sheldons house for some reason and he lived in this gas station looking thing and you had to go down stairs and through security and gates like damn dude who's coming here

2) ame was in octo ex except she skipped levels so this one was like, practice which was bullshit

anyway we were in a mall and we got to explore around and it was a reused brain location it was cool as hell i wish it was real! anyway it was all a simulation and no one could actually interact or see her but she had a really fun time running around the mall, couldn't really buy anything though. all the exits and shops were barried off invisible force field style

she got some money for bao to eat before she started the test

the test was weird it was timed and the tasks were like "pet this frog" "brush this turtle" warioware ass shit...

the one I remember specifically was the final one where she had to finish this meal which was a burger. she (me) asked if she could not eat the tomatoes and tartar disembodied ai voice was like sure but you have to eat all of the rest of the burger. and like she dropped some onion rings on the floor somehow and had to eat it off the floor as per the rules 😭

also there was a side of bulgolgi with the burger idk why. No rice just meat. She took it to go it was good i think

anyway she successfully passed but was obviously grossed out by having to eat public floor onion rings, but she got money and food for passing so...

also for some reason as she was on her way to the elevator to leave the mall testing area she was chased by a creepypasta sonic that was kinda scary as shit okay!

also there were ads for the bulgolgi burger place in the elevator LMAO

3) same setting, ame is in octo ex, but the task this time was to like, scoop as much random shit from these barrels with a pair of tongs as u could. however this was knockout style, there were 3 other people, and one of them was ame's mom. Actually my mom in the dream but via dream logic it was ames mom. the other two were random hs classmates i think they're unimportant and I forgot lmao. anyway the winner got to move on but everyone else would be executed...

the supermarket was like hmart but one that doesn't exist. it was kinda like one i frequent but the layout was fucked up. anyway the shit in the barrels was literally random, there was sushi and watermelons and bottles of tea and frozen food but if u could pick it up you won and also you'd get to keep it although the stuff in the barrel was decoys. Allegedly. It was definitely real food being fumbled around but whatever.

anyway I developed a method to pick them up fairly easily which was to actually just balance them instead of using the giant ass tongs which thinking back should be a worse strategy but whatever 🤷🏻‍♀️ dream logic ig

i had piles and piles of stuff while the two randos were fumbling and my mom was doing fine, but ended up helping me instead of finishing hers

i ran out of stuff to pick up and started picking up random shit from nearby shelves and tartar yelled at me

in the end i (ame) won and so everyone else was to die and then I got distracted thinking about how i could incorporate these dreams into ame's canon story somehow bc they gave me emotions but i don't think it would make sense for her to have a dead mom in my story idrk. anyway cuz of that I never really finished that dream properly and that's probably a good thing bc it'd be weird to see your mom die via goop telephone

that's it I think lmao it's pitch black now oopsie. i actually woke up at 10 and then went back to sleep #fuck

wait bonus dream from proper sleep hours:

4) i was chasing my friend mozzy around in alterna, she had a squeezer and i had this fucked up in-between gun of splash and jet squelcher and it looked like a hand drill. moz could self heal but it was like potions so she was kinda fucked if it ran out HOWEVER! some dude who was a capybara came over and set me on minecraft fire and i was so flabbergasted I just stood there and died 👍

and that was the entire dream it was the shortest one I've ever had

[youngerfrankenstein]

Oh boy. I hate to say a lot of it is just… vibe? (I hate using that term) But I’ll try?

I think a big part of it for me in the specific case of Transformers is just the fact they are POV characters, like I don’t care about what’s happening to some rando kid at school when I COULD be seeing more of the giant robots y’know? The small-scale issues should add to the drama but for me they tend to detract from it.

And, this is a me problem, unless the tone is very silly I will never buy that kids from a world that’s supposed to be ours can stand on any sort of even ground with giant alien robots. I can buy kid warriors in fantasy stories or often when they’re protagonists. Because sure, I’ll watch them grow, but when I see what are supposed to be regular human kids complain they don’t get to go help fight the bad alien robots I want to pick them up by the scruff of the neck and shake them.

I… really never thought I’d say this but I sort of miss Sari. Yeah she had similar problems, but the tone of the series excused it far better. And she was annoying but had plenty of personality.

The Prime kids sucked. I want to burn 90% of child genius characters alive, the trope sucks and the character was boring. Not as boring as Jack mind you, who was one of the most soulless “insert yourself here” characters I have ever seen (and he was then told he should join the military! I WONDER WHAT THIS COULD BE SAYING Prime was so right-wing dang) Miko was annoying and and bratty but at least there was something to her and her friendship with Bulkhead felt real.

The Malto kids have a big problem, and it’s a problem that the whole of EarthSpark suffers from, and it’s that they’re painfully schmaltzy. My GOD. Their family is so idyllic I want to PUKE. And the fact that we HAVE robot kids. We have FIVE of them now! I would like to see more of them rather than having to keep the human kids around.

I also just have… a LOT of problems with EarthSpark’s writing in general (and the writing of most I’ve seen but I do think more with this one) which I’ll get out when I finish it (hopefully tomorrow) and do my write-up. Long story short I think there’s a diamond in there SOMEWHERE, there’s just a lot of rough around it.

The funny thing is though, I do like some of the adult humans? Fanzone made me smile (I like the grumpy ones), I actually really liked June for some reason, and while Alex and Dot definitely have too much schmaltz I enjoy their screentime a lot more than that of their kids (also the agent dude is hilarious I need him in all Transformers media now).

KEEP IN MIND THOUGH, these are the ramblings of a dead-inside late-20-something who watches cartoon robots to feel an emotion. Even if that emotion is annoyance.

If you want to write kid characters that kids will love, well, ask kids! Ask what they’d like to see in a character. I will give you one thing though. I’m pretty sure kids LOVE to be cool.

Anyway, this is just me being a grump. I hope you at least enjoy them. And I hope this nonsense makes at least a little bit of sense.

I have a proposal on how to improve the Transformers cartoons.

A Modest Proposal,

if you will.

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

I just finished re-reading Memorias de Idhún and HOLY SHIT I now understand my 11 year old writing fanfics about them as adults and obsessing about Erik and Eva literal babies in the books cause if that isn't the most fic inviting piece of media ever I don't know what it is like

I need to see their daily life 17-18 years from the end of book iii, where jack and Victoria live in the D'Ascoli mansion with the kids and "uncle" Christian lives with aunt Shizuko in Tokyo but comes to visit often and also once in a while uncles "Shane" and "Zaida" show up and Erik and Eva don't get along and it's almost something instinct wise, Eva hates Jack, and Erik Christian, they have ice and fire powers and can transform into unicorns but they don't really know what the hell is going on, until one day they all have to return to Idhún cause Uk-Sun is now a villain or something and Eva ends up falling in love with her and Erik with Shail and Zaisei kid and fuck now I have to write it don't I?

[shurisneakers]

harmless (v)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, ghosts, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, rats

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: why did i like this chapter sm someone explain. anyway!! y’all are so passionate about these two i love it mwah

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He dislikes the subway. 

Other than his other valid reason to have disdain for trains, the subway is dark, it’s shady and he’s sure he’s seen rodents fight to the death here on several occasions.  

Still, he’s following you down the stairs of the station, watching as you whistle along to the song blasting through your headphones. There’s a backpack swung over your shoulders, hands stuffed into the pocket of your hoodie and converse doing a skip every now and then. There’s a bandana that’s tied across your face, acting as a mask to hide your identity. 

He realises that you’re dressed like a commuter. Were you going to dress the part every single time?

You walk along with the crowd. He follows, a few feet away.

Until you stop. He abruptly stops too, leading someone to walk right into him. 

“Watch it, dumbass,” they hiss with the courage of someone who has no idea who he is. He ignores them. 

He looks on as you dig around your backpack and pull out a roll of paper. A poster, he realises soon when you peel off a layer from the back and press it to the wall. 

Was it legal to put up posters in the subway? He wasn’t quite sure. 

He observes as you turn around and continue down the path. He waits a few seconds before trailing up to the poster.

Volunteers needed!

If you’re interested in being turned into a ghost for a couple of hours, this is your chance! Should be okay with being on camera so that we can make money off of taped paranormal sightings.

Paid opportunity. You get to pick your outfit. Randos don’t apply.

He yanks the poster of the wall before continuing down the same place you did.

He finds another poster along the way. He doesn’t hesitate in pulling it down. You were advocating to kill people. 

He knows he’s going in the right direction because more posters creep up along the wall.

The both of you are on the platform by now but to him, something changes about the placement of the posters. They were growing in frequency, the distance between them decreasing as they were situated close to each other.

He pauses in front of the next one, hand hovering over the paper.

All it reads is ‘STOP’.

He furrows his eyebrow, pulling it down before peering over at the next one.

‘TAKING’, is all that it says.

It doesn’t take him very long to make his way through all the posters in the hallway. 

‘THESE’

‘DOWN’

The train’s arrived by now but a quick scan over the crowd and he knows that you haven’t entered. That, and he knew that you were too dramatic to leave without a trace or a small conversation with him. 

‘DICKHEAD’

Tasteful, he thinks. 

“It took effort to make them, stop ruining it,” you whine from the end of the hallway. It’s empty, given that rush hour was over a while ago. 

Even though the mask covers half your face, it’s obvious that there is mischief etched under it. The twinkle in your eye is telling. 

“You’re literally killing people.” He holds up the poster. Not the ‘dickhead’ one. He pockets that for later. 

He knows there are a few minutes before the next train arrives and more people flood the station. The eccentricity of today lay in the lighting from the incandescent lamps and acoustics of the platform. It made his voice echo like a movie scene. 

“I very much am not,” you huff. 

“You’re turning them into ghosts. That’s what a murderer does,” he says pointedly. 

“Well, only if you keep saying it like that. You’re making me look bad.” You cross your arms across your chest. “What are you, Fox News?” 

A scurry next to him earns his attention. Two rats nibble at a piece of fallen food. He wonders when they’ll starting brawling. 

“Explain this.” He waves the poster around. He isn’t taking it too lightly he hopes. If it’s actual murder then it’s going to be an issue. 

You pull out a black cylinder, slightly bigger than a pen. He can’t really see any more details, but you hold onto it like a wand. 

“I’m turning them into ghosts. I’ll post videos of them doing stupid shit. I get famous and then boom, cash money.” You rub your index finger and thumb together. “I’ll give you a share if you volunteer.”

“You’re not explaining the death part.” 

He can feel it. You’re about to start derailing. 

“Winter Soldier, the ghost story. Literally.” You grin, yanking down the mask from your face to prove it. It pools around your neck. “That’s so funny, c’mon, it’d be amazing.”

It’s been years since he’s heard that. Never in this context. 

“No,” he says sternly, “and I’m going to have to bring you in if you’re going to kill people.”

The rats were ignoring everything that was going down like the hardened criminals that they were. They had probably seen worse. He can’t stop paying attention to them.

“I’m not killing them, bro.” You raise your hands in exclamation. “I’m just moving some molecules around, some frequency shit. They’re alive, just ghosts.”  

He’s always been one for science. Straight As throughout high school, attended science conventions as a hobby, alive even at 100 through some mad experimentation, definitely seen some weird shit during his lifetime. 

But this doesn’t make sense.

“No,” he repeats. “Give me the thing.”

“Fine, I’ll show you.” You roll your eyes. “Since you have absolutely no faith in me.”

He does a quick review of his surroundings. 

No one’s around, which is good. 

But that just leaves him in front of you, which is bad.

“Don’t you even thin-” he starts, muscles tensing as he shifts into a defensive stance.

You whip out the little pen thing from beside you but before he can react you turn around and duck. 

The click of a button releases a bright light, small but intensely stronger than the fluorescents in the station.

He reels back, feet carrying him away from where you’re crouched. His eyes quickly look down at his body. 

Nothing’s changed. 

He lifts his hand to check, runs it over his face. Still alive. He thinks.

“Behold,” you declare, “Ghost rat.”

He looks to where you’re pointing. The two rats from earlier were still nibbling on their food but something was off about them. 

He could see the faint outline of the tiles on the wall behind them, almost like they were... translucent.  

You aimed at the rats, not him. He doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed at the fake threat.

He watches as they move. They don’t look hurt or injured.

“Cool, huh?” you say smugly. 

He can’t stop staring at them. 

“Bring them back.”

“They’re fine, look how abstract it is.”

“Bring back the rats.” He can’t believe this is what his life has come to.

Bucky Barnes, Rodent Protector.

You aren’t fazed by his indifference, instead wonder filled eyes gaze at the animals. “Astral mice, sarge. Embrace the miracle of modern science.”

“You killed them.”

“They’re alive, they’re just ghosts.” You raise a finger to point. “Look, they’re still eating. Biological functions are still taking place.” 

 Which was true. But still. He doesn’t know what is going on.

“Bring them back to... non-ghost alive.” 

“You sure you don’t want one? That one kinda looks like you.” One hardened glare after you realise the answer. “Jeez, alright then.”

You dig through your bag before pulling out a matte black replica of your current invention. 

“Sexy colours, right?” You hold them up. “I modelled them after your arm.”

He looks down. Sure enough the gold and black matched his cybernetic limb. It was oddly flattering. 

“Say thank you, Y/N, for letting me be your muse-”

“Un-ghost the rats.” 

“Ungrateful,” you narrow your eyes at him. 

Still, you comply with his demands, ducking down to their level again.

A click of the button, a bright light and the rats are back to normal. Non-transparent normal.

“Okay, give me that.” He takes a step towards you. 

“Nuh uh.” You pull your arm back. His mouth twitches at your response; what are you, five?

The black one is stuffed back into your bag but you wave around the gold like a threat. 

He sighs, making a pass for it. In a second his arm is twisted and shoved against his back, forcing him to spin so that he’s facing away from you. His eyes widen.

What the fuck?

“Now we’re having a good time,” you whisper into this ear. 

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist to rotate his own out of your grip. 

“Since when can you fight?” he asks.

“Are we getting to know each other now?” You raise your leg to give him a semi gentle kick in the side, using his momentary distraction in blocking it to give him a knock on the head with your free hand. “This is so romantic, sarge.”

There’s a low rumble in the distance and he knows the train would soon start pulling into the station. It was still a distance away, but his heightened senses warned him that it wouldn’t take much time. 

He groans. How much longer would he have to go at this?

He could easily win this fight and he knew it. But something in him itched, pulled him back from doing it.

He blocks another attempt at his head. “Stop that.”

You grin. “You know what’d be fun?”

He knows you’d reply even if he didn’t encourage it. The lights from the train light up the tunnel around the corner. 

“This.” You don’t give him a second to recover before you flick your wrist away from him.

The device flies out of your hand and right onto the track. The both of you watch, you in glee, he in horror, as the train runs right over it, unleashing the brightest light he had ever seen. His eyes shut instinctively before it blinds him.

He forces himself to pry open his eyelids, look at the damage caused. 

The train, sure enough, is translucent. He can see the posters on the other side of the platform through the carriage, through various people holding onto the poles for support or seated on the seats.

“Ghost train!” you cheer. He’s mortified.

“Fuck no,” he mumbles, yanking the backpack off your shoulder. He rummages through it, looking for the gold version.

“You lookin’ for this?” you ask nonchalantly, holding it up in your hand like it isn’t the solution to stopping a bunch of ghosts from wandering around New York. 

“Turn them back.” He gives you a chance. 

“Do it yourself, coward.” You grin, holding it above your head. The train is going to stop and he needs everyone to be alive and non-ghost before they leave.

He doesn’t wait this time, instead turning to you. The thing is still held in your grip above your head. He rolls his eyes, doing a quick assessment before grabbing your free hand, tugging you closer and plucking the device out of your hand before you have the opportunity to retract it.  

“Great, now figure out which button to press.” You’re dangerously close to him. He can feel your hoodie brush against his tactical jacket. “Also if you wanted to be all pressed up against me, you could have just asked.” 

He furrows his eyebrows, letting go of you as you give a loud laugh. He looks down at the device. It has several buttons, littering up and down the side. Each look the same. 

The train’s slowing down. 

“They’re both the same device; this version is not a magical solution to the other one. If you press the wrong button then both of us are going to be fucked.”

The last carriage is getting closer. 

“Say I win this round and I’ll fix it.” 

There’s a gleam in your eye. He knew this was exactly what you wanted. 

He wishes he was as stubborn as Steve, just run through each button until the right one worked.

“You win this one.” He hands it back. He wasn’t like Steve and judging by the number of items the idiot jumped out of planes without a parachute on a daily basis, Bucky was glad about it. At least Bucky did it sporadically.

“Yay, two each for the both of us, then,” you say, taking it from him and twisting, eyes running down the sides. “Close your eyes, old man, or else your cataract’s gonna get worse.”

Right as the train pulls to a stop, you press down on the button before throwing it and the blinding light that emanates from it. It lands on the top of the train right as the doors open. 

The passengers start stepping out. Some of them are looking at their hands and legs in a little disbelief, most just push through the crowd to leave.

He can’t see through them. It’s a good sign. 

He turns to look at you but you’re not there. Instead, the weight of the small device weighs down in his pocket.

The sound of a thud on glass draws his attention. 

He looks up at the train. The window of the carriage in front of him has a bit of fog on it. You trace a heart in the condensation and blow him a kiss before pulling your mask back on.

The train starts moving, leaving him alone in the platform again with your invention.

He lets out an exhale, wandering outside to grab a sandwich before waiting to catch the next train to go home. 

Later in the evening, he catches hold of a bit of tape and the ‘Dickhead’ poster finds a place on Sam’s door. 

He doesn’t appreciate it.

So now it’s tucked away in the shelf of Bucky’s bedside table along with a freeze ray, a ghost-inator, and some discount Pym Particles. 

Next part

[uni-artsssy]

Modern Reader x Avengers pt 2

Parings: none

Warning: none

A/N: um, I’m really hyped to be writing this actually. I needed a break from my other story but I’m still going to continue it. But anyways enjoy!!

Part 1

——————

The constant honking and shouting cause me to awake. I slowly open my eyes to find myself in my bed. Snuggled under the blanket. I rubbed my eye as I slowly rose up to rest against the bed headboard. Still, the honking and shouting didn’t stop. Feeling irritated by the noise, I groggily stand up from my bed and walk over to the window. Pulling the curtains back, I'm bolted wide awake as I take in the scene in front of me. The once quiet and vacant roads that lived outside of my house were now full and noisy. Every single inch of the road was filled with red cars and blue cars, white ones and black ones. Buses, bikers, and yellow taxis. On the other side of the road are buildings. Ones that were not there before. I lived in a quiet neighborhood, this seemed like the exact opposite. Having too many cars and too many shops/store buildings made this whole thing look like a busy city. I pick up my phone to check the time.

7:32am.

Oh no.

I almost forgot about school! First period starts at 8:05am, I need to get there fast.

I dash to my closet to put on a black tank top with some tan cargo pants and a red and black flannel to cover my bare arms. Rushing to the bathroom, I quickly brush my teeth and wash my face, I slip on my shoes and grab my backpack. Making sure to grab my fanta was well. Hastily skipping down the stairs, I walk through the living room, seeing my mother in the kitchen talking on the phone.

“Hey, mom.”

“Hey. Shouldn’t you be gone off to school already? Your brother already left.” she questioned.

“That’s what I’m doing right now.” We both chuckle as I head out the front door. Not ready to actually take in the scene around me.

I found myself running pushing between randos on the sidewalk. The walks were filled with folks. Where did all these people come from anyways? Wait. Now that I’m actually outside, I’m actually starting to realize that this isn’t my small town in Maine. The people are mean, I keep apologizing to people for accidentally bumping into them on these narrow streets. The buildings are huge. Some have giant TV screens on them displaying ads while some just have regular posters. And in the distance I can see a giant tower that looked like it was designed to be twisted on one side, while the side facing me had huge letters placed at the top saying… Stark? Wait a minute… that sign looks really familiar….

Is that the STARK TOWER??? Am I in… New York?

My mind’s too occupied with thinking of a reasonable explanation for this, so much so that I didn’t realize I had wandered into the massive streets. Nearly getting dozed by a city bus. Good thing it had stopped before it could. After shouting sorry to the honking bus and cars behind it I ran back onto the sidewalks, running in the direction of the tower. I have to see this for myself. I run past one of those windows that display tv’s set to the news channels. Hearing the words “Iron Man” made me back track my steps. Did I hear that right?

The tvs showed the red and yellow iron suit flying in the air blasting his opps. I stared in disbelief. I could hear people in the background scurry away from the window, I looked away to see what they were running from.

Ruble from a collapsing building was falling my way. By this time, I hadn’t had time to move out of the way fast enough. All I could do was cover my face with my hands and pray for the best outcome.

Expecting to feel the pressure of the weight of the rubble, I peek an eye open when I felt nothing. Standing over me a man dressed in blue with red and white stripes, holding up a circular disc to the sky. Blocking the rubble from falling on me. I quickly stand up, dusting my hands and knees off. The man turned towards me to ask “Are you okay?”

I look to the man that saved me to see the face of… Captain America? I stand there in awe. My mouth opens and closes like a fish,

“Y-You’re Captain America.” I finally speak out.

“And you need to get to safety.” He says as he turns to face the opposite direction.

The debris that crashed onto the ground was now in the air, covered in a red, mystic glow.

“I can take her.” I can recognize that accent from anywhere.

“Come on.” she waves a hand to me signalling me to follow.

This can’t be real. Can it? Of course not. I was just in Maine a second ago and now I’m in the most busy city in the US.

“Are you in shock?” Wanda asks.

“Huh? N-no. I’m...fine.” she gathers me and a bunch of other civilians on the street, she shouts for us to go as she uses her magic to create a barrier stretching from one side of the road to the other.

Run all the way down the street, dodging the abandoned cars and other people fleeing the current battle. Running till my legs gave out, I stopped at a restaurant. The moment I step inside everyone looks at me. The tv’s that were held on the walls were set to the same news channel showing the Avengers fight. Everyone’s attention went back to the tvs. I take a seat at the table next to the window and take a sip of my now flat fanta drink. Man, I should have brought my chips. I reach back over to my back pack to grab my phone from the zipped pocket. The screen turned on and the big,white numbers read 8:06am. At this point, I’m not even worried about school.(I don’t even have one to go to anyways). I go to google, quickly typing in ‘The avenegrs’, not caring about spelling(google knows what I’m trying to say.) Expecting to get movie summaries about the films, wiki fan pages of each and every member of the Avengers cast and news about the actors who played them, the page was filled with articles about their interviews and all the success stories of the team. But everything was presented as if it were real. As a fact. Never once did I see the word ‘actors’ or ‘actress’, and the names Robert Downy Jr, Scarlette Johanson, Sebastian Stan. None. I actually searched those specific names up and the only one that showed was Sebs.(Forgot he’s canon in the MCU) But even then, when it showed the movies he was in it didn’t show any of the ones that were a part of the MCU. As if the MCU didn’t exist.

Okay this is real. This is happening. None of this is played by actors and heavy use of CGI. They’re the real thing.

And I can’t miss the opportunity to meet them in real life.

“The Avengers saved the city once again!”

The news anchor on the tv cheerfully announced. I whip my head up from my phone to look outside the window. More police and ambulances drove to close off the roads and help any one that got hurt. Shoving my drink back into the side pocket on my backpack and gripping my phone tightly in my hand, I dash out the door.

Apologizing to the people I shoved through on the street, I look at my phone again.

“Hey, hey google? What is the address to Stark Tower?”

“200 Park Avenue”

“Okay.” I ran off to my destination. “Hey google? What are the directions to 200 Park Ave?”

I stood in front of the glass entrance. Of the Stark tower.

Am I really about to just walk right up in there? Yes, yes I am. Will I probably get kicked out for having absolutely no business being there? Most likely yeah.

I step closer to the glass doors. I awkwardly reached my hands out to grab the handles only to realize there weren’t any as the doors slid open on their own. Electric doors, of course. I can see people hastily pace around the lobby area in different directions. Suits all in different shades of grays, some in stand out colors like purple and red. Heels clicking and slapping against shiny, tiled flooring. The conversations of everyone talking slurred together into one huge murmur. But the high pitched ‘Hellos’ of the receptionists ladies are the only clear words before just becoming a high pitched murmur within the crowd.

Wow.

Two more men in suits walked in the door, I realized I was in the way so I walked further in. Being a young person here garnered some looks from the older people but I didn’t really care at first. Maybe because I was a bit more focused on the interior of this place. Taking a full 360 I land back in my original position, looking straight ahead I see a lady and a man speaking with a security guard.

Then, they point directly at me.

Tags

[avani008]

Historical Make Me Choose! 2. Mughal or Maurya, 8. Religion or Art. Talk About: 3, 6, 9, 15

Make me choose between the Mughal and Maurya dynasties:

This is especially grueling, because--well, luck being on my side--I want to someday write origfic historical fantasy based on both of them. So, to start with, I will take the coward's way out and say both, because they're both entertaining in different ways.

The Mughal dynasty is well-documented, which is amazing for finding out hilarious anecdotes (Hamida Banu dissing Humayun! Akbar's cheetah obsession! Jahangir's hilariously honest autobiography) as well as--reading between the lines--some pretty amazing women. The Mauryas, in contrast, are so spottily documented, we can't even be entirely sure that the Buddhist and Greek/Macedonian sources are even talking about the same events/rulers, but assuming it is so--it's a wild ride, starting with a teenager overthrowing the dominant dynasty and his line conquering most of India within two generations. From a writing standpoint, having so much left empty is a gift, leaving so much available for the imagination. And yet, I wish we knew of more ladies from that history, because what little we do get is so fascinating (Durdhara's family connections and bizarre death! Dharma who sounds steely enough to be a second Kunti! Most of Ashoka's wives, who all seem super strong-minded in their own right.)

Make me choose between studying religion and art.

Oh, religion definitely. Not that art isn't great (it is!), but religion involves so much stories, and such insight into the psychology of any given culture. I had a college instructor who argued that religion and the afterlife told you more than anything about the general optimism/worldview of a culture (ie, Mesopatamia which had erratic floods and a harsh worldview had gods who really didn't care about them; whereas ancient Egypt, with regular floods and prosperity, had an afterlife that, assuming you could get in, was one big party.) Plus, religion affects passing references (how many casual Mahabharata and Ramayana references do you see in India media? Or just in conversation?) and swear words (such that an utterance as hilarious as the word "Zounds" could be an actual profanity. Amazing.)

A historical misconception that you hate.

AHHH there are so many--the inherent classism in deciding Shakespeare couldn't actually be a dude from Stratford, but a university-educated nobleman!--but at the moment, one of the most bemusing is the claim that Mughal princesses were forbidden from marrying. I keep on running into this as fact, and...don't actually see that it has any actual basis in fact, at least not during the reigns of the six major emperors. For evidence, I present the following deep dive:

(behind the cut due to length)

Most of the time I see this cited as "Akbar forbade princesses from marrying" so we'll start with him. Certainly Akbar's aunts and sisters were mostly married, so that's not an issue.

Of Akbar's daughters that I can find: Mahi Begum died young, so she doesn't count. Aram Banu Begum seems to have been --well, if we believe her brother Jahangir--kind of A Lot, despite being her father's favorite, so it seems likely marriage either wasn't her thing, or no one was agreeable to marry her. His other two daughters, Shakr-un-nissa and Khanum Sultan, were both recorded as having married, however, with their marriages arranged by Akbar himself.

But, hey, maybe he came to that decision later. So let's look at his granddaughters: Jahangir had plenty of daughters, and I can't find references to the marriages of all of them (or even how long they lived, for that matter)--at least one, Bahar Banu Begum was married to her cousin Tahmaras, and probably others too. Another of Akbar's granddaughters, Jahan Banu Begum (daughter of Murad) was also married to her cousin Parviz.

Of the generation following: let's put aside Shan Jahan's three daughters for now, since none of them married but i would argue they're a special case. Parviz, who I mentioned before, had one daughter Nadira Banu, who married her cousin Dara Shikoh; his brother Khusrau also had a single daughter Hoshmand, who married (you guessed it!) a cousin. The final granddaughter was Arzani begum, also granddaughter of the disgraced Nur Jahan, about whom I can't find a reputable death date, much less whether or not she was married. So--yes, for the most part, these women all ended up married cousins, but it's not strictly accurate to say they couldn't marry period.

A final note on Aurangazeb, who also gets accused of hte "prevented daughters from marrying" stance: yes, his most prominent daughter Zeb-un-nissa never married, but it certainly seems she had proposals aplenty and her father only vetoed the most prominent because he disapproved of the groom's father (who was his brother. the cousin thing, again.) Two of his other daughters did marry, with no objections recorded.

So honestly? It seems marriage wasn't forbidden by any means. And for those women who didn't--well, is it so impossible to believe that these princesses figured that a life in the imperial harem (which isn't the Orientalist boring fantasy most people imagine, but instead a city of women, with libraries! and schools! and markets! hunt! play chess and polo! From the harem, women could watch politics, or engage in trade, or create architecture, or participate in community service. By no means, it was great, but opportunities sucked all-around for anyone who wasn't a cis-male in that time, and this life must have seemed preferable....) with a loving father/brother was much better than being married to some rando. Plus, esp in the case of Shah Jahan's daughter, their mother died in childbirth, quite infamously--to me, it makes perfect psychological sense that they might all be leery of marriage/childbirth.

A historical figure you think is underrated.

Sadly, most figures from Indian history, but picking one at random: Razia Sultan! Not only awesome for being the first female Muslim ruler in Indian history, but also a really really good one--committed to public service, working for civil rights for the poor and those who didn't share her racial/religious/cultural background, and also open-minded/anti-racist enough to, at the very least, make a man of African descent her foremost advisor and friend. (I ship Razia/Yakut, and NOTP her relationship with Altunia pretty strongly, but even otherwise; she clearly respected Yakut as an equal, which says a lot about her. LOVE HER.

A historical myth/legend/rumour/story (flexible)

Oh, forget it, we're going to talk about Razia and Yakut, or at least the rumor they were romantically involved. A few words on Yakut: he was of Abyssinian ancestry, and actually came to her father's court as a slave, but was soon freed and allowed to rise up the ranks (this was very much a socially accepted Thing in the Mamluk court--more on this later--but he definitely had to face significant racism. Sure, there's no actual proof that he and Razia were involved, but--she made him her Master of the Horse (you know who else did? Elizabeth I for Robert Dudley. Just saying.); she never turned from him, even in the face of nasty rumors, and his loyalty to her meant he died in battle defending her throne; and fwiw, she didn't marry another as long as he lived. It's...questionable, too, how voluntary her marriage to Altunia was to me; certainly, being held hostage by the dude doesn't make for a great start. Now, again like Liz I/Robin Dudley, they could just have been BFFs/platonic soulmates, but if so I don't care--their dynamic is just A+ to me and I love it.

A historical headcanon that you have.

Akbar was dyslexic, and this was the reason behind his famous illiteracy.

[myhockeyworld87]

Ruined - Jamie Benn - Part 5

Word Count: 5,690

POV: Reader and then switches to Jamie

Warnings: Language, but that’s about it, at least from what I can remember

Notes: So I just want to thank everyone for their patience with me as I took some time off. I’ve still been writing, so hopefully you’ll see your favorite stories pop up here and there. Happy reading!

Sidenote: Also (Y/NN) = Your Nickname (Y/LN) = Your Last Name

READER'S POV

 "I'm sorry what did you just say?" you asked Emma, as you had to have heard her incorrectly when she said that you should get under someone in order to get over Jamie. "Because, you were there in high school, that didn't work out the best for me."

"That's not what I meant."

 "But it is what you said, that I should just go hook up with some random guy. Em, I love you, babe, but I am not going down that path again. I do not need to be known as the doctor that sleeps around."

 "Oh my god, would you shut up for one minute?" You went radio silent, after she practically yelled at you through the phone, though you suppose that your voice had gone up maybe a decibel or two. "I didn't mean for you to go fuck some rando at the bar. Actually, I meant…and hear me out before you say anything," she paused and you had a feeling that you weren't going to like what she said next no matter what it was. "I think you should sleep with Jamie."

 "WHAT!?!"

 "Yeah, that was a little loud. I think you might have woken up Caleb. Shh, go back to sleep babe," you heard her mumble to her husband.

 "I'm sorry but are you crazy? Maybe I called you too early and you're not fully functioning without coffee. Or should I call Dr. Kaplan and have him examine you."

 "Your neurologist, friend? No." She sounded a bit indignant at the mention that she needed her brain examined for suggesting a thing, but really what were you supposed to think when she made stupid remarks like you should go sleep with Jamie. "I asked you to listen before you passed judgment on me. God, you think you were a judge instead of a doctor so something."

 "Well, you have my full attention. So please explain, before I have you committed to the psych ward." She scoffed at you, which only made you say, "You know I can medically do that."

 You could almost hear her eyes rolling through the phone. "Yes, but who would you call this early in the morning when you have a problem." She had a point. "Exactly. Now, let me explain. You and Jamie never really resolved anything. He said things, you got upset, he never answered the phone, so you broke it off with him, yadda, yadda, yadda. You get my point." It seemed a whole lot more complicated than a few yaddas. "But there was never any closure for either of you there. It just sort of ended." Emma was right about that, after hearing that he only was seeing you for sex, you didn't want to speak to him at all. "It was obvious then, that he still had feelings for you, even if you didn't want to see it. And don't kill me here, but I think it was obvious that you still had feelings for him as well, and that maybe you still do." You didn't exactly know how you felt about Jamie at the moment, but waking up in his arms did feel right. "Let's face it (Y/N), you've compared every guy you've ever been with to Jamie."

 "I have not." Had you?

 "Ok, we're skipping all the douches in high school, because you and I both know you never slept with any of them. Yes, I know what everyone said, but I was also your best friend and I know you. The worst you ever did was give Carter Williams a blow job behind the bleachers after a football game." Oh, Jesus, she did not need to go down this road listing all your sexcapades from high school or after that. "I'm talking about Bryan, the perfectly good looking, studying to be a heart surgeon, boyfriend that you gave up for no other reason then you said he wasn't tall enough."

 "I did not break up with Bryan because he wasn't tall enough and you know it."

 "It was a factor, along with his hair not being dark enough and you hating his sense of humor."

 "The man made stupid heart surgeon jokes that not even anyone in the cardiothoracic department got."

 "True, but you also told me he was lousy in bed, and I believe that was another complaint you had about Tomas, Dylan…oh and what was his name…you know the one you said that you had to use your vibrator the minute he walked out the door because he couldn't get you off."

 "Isaac," you told her and there was a blush creeping to your cheeks. Suddenly, you were regretting Emma being your best friend.

 "Yes, Isaac. If I remember correctly that happened more than once with him. How you kept him around for four months is beyond me. You're a doctor woman, you can show him where the clit is, you know? Just take his hand and place it…"

 "Thank you, Dr. Emma, I know where my clit is."

 "But he didn't," she let out a bark of laughter that was so contagious you had to join in. Once you both calmed, Emma came right back at you about Jamie. "Look, he was your first love and maybe the sex wasn't as great as your sixteen-year-old mind remembers. Maybe you just fuck Jamie and that's all it is, a fuck, or maybe it's more. At least this way, you won't be holding him on some pedestal like he's a Greek god or something."

 Maybe she was right and you'd been holding on for fourteen years thinking that what you and Jamie had was this truly magical once and a lifetime thing when in reality all it had been was sex. Let's face it, what your sixteen-year-old self thought was love could've been nothing more than lust. "I never thought he was a Greek god."

 "Please, I was always envious about how you had this romantic first time. I mean mine was in the back of Kyle's jeep, and before you say anything he didn't know where the clit was either."

 You both giggled again, but then you had to remind her of how things had ended. "It wasn't romantic when he said those things about me."

 "He was sixteen (Y/N). I'm not making an excuse, but it's time to build that bridge. Maybe he's changed, maybe he hasn't. I'm not saying for you to give him your whole heart. I'm just saying, find out if what was there, was truly that once in a lifetime love or was it just this idea that you've been holding on to."

 "But what if…" you stuttered while Emma waited for you to continue. "What if…I still love him, and he breaks my heart, again."

 "(Y/N), that's the chance we all take when we open our hearts to love. You don't think that I felt that way with Caleb? That sometimes I still don't feel that way." She sighed. You could tell she was struggling with how to put her feelings into words. "He could walk out the door and leave me here alone, and my heart would break into pieces, but the love I have for him is so much greater than that fear." She made it sound so easy, but all you could remember was how completely hurt you'd felt when things had gone wrong with Jamie. "I know you're scared, and that's why you've closed your heart off for so long, but (Y/N) I promise you the minute you open it back up, your life is going to be even better than it is. And maybe it's Jamie that deserves your heart and maybe it's not, but you'll never know if you don't try."

 "I know," you whispered weakly, for you really did know that. If it wasn't Jamie, it was going to have to be someone eventually, because you didn't want to be alone forever. It was just that gnawing fear in the back of your mind that Jamie would hurt you again as he had before. "I just don't want to break into a thousand pieces again."

 "You won't (Y/N), and if you do, I'll be on the first flight to Dallas to help you pick them up." She would be, you knew that for sure because you couldn't ask for a better friend than Emma. "And I'll kick his ass as well." That made you laugh considering that Emma was five foot four, and Jamie was just over six foot. It would make for an interesting matchup, but you knew that Emma would take him down no matter the size difference.

 "Thanks, Em."

 "I just want you to be happy, (Y/NN); happy and in love, and I just have this gut feeling that Jamie can make that happen." There was only one way to find out, and that was to open up more to Jamie. It wouldn't be easy but after this little talk, you were willing to try. "Now, enough about this, because you're going to follow my advice. So tell me how everything else is going? Do you like work? Is it everything you thought it would be?"

 "And so much more." You spent the next fifteen minutes catching up with each other before she kicked you off the phone to go make rounds at the hospital. Despite not having that many patients of your own at the moment, you were still looking after all of Dr. Lundin's. It was about three o'clock in the afternoon when your phone rang, Jamie's name popping up on the screen. For a minute, you thought about not answering it, but then you remembered your conversation this morning with Emma and quickly hit the accept button. "Hey, Jame."

 He seemed a bit startled that you answered. "Oh, hey (Y/NN). I was just giving you a call about a couple things."

 "Ok, what's up?"

 "Well, first off, I found your dress in my bathroom this morning."

 "Oh shit, I totally forgot that I left it in there." You'd laid it over the tub last night when you changed, something that you did at home all the time. You had every intention of picking it up before you left, but then you'd fallen asleep and well, it kind of got lost in your mind as you freaked out over possibly having feelings for Jamie.

 "It's no biggie. I hung it up in my closet." He paused as if he'd said something wrong. "Just so it didn't wrinkle anymore." Well, look at him being all domesticated.

 "Thanks, that's sweet of you. I'll stop over and get it sometime from you."

 "Oh, ok or I can bring it over. Whatever is easiest for you. I also wanted to see if there was a good time to reschedule that visit to the AAC? We kind of didn't get to go over my map too much last night. Plus, my artistic skills are a little rusty."

 You'd forgotten all about the tour, but it would be a good excuse to spend some more time with Jamie to see where your feelings were. "Let me check my schedule." You switched him to speaker and flipped over to your calendar. "Oh, I'm headed to Jessi's tomorrow night to take her stitches out, so that won't work. Um, let me see about the next day."

 "What about tonight?"

 "Oh, tonight?" You weren't sure if you were ready to face him just yet, but a little voice, that sounded an awful lot like your best friend, told you there was no time like the present. "Yeah, I can do that. I was just getting ready to leave here in about ten minutes. What time were you thinking?"

 "Whenever I'm free the rest of today, so if you just wanted to come straight here; that's fine."

 This was really not the timeframe you wanted. You hadn't even taken any time this morning to do anything special with your hair or makeup, as you'd spent too much time talking to Emma. Though it wasn't like Jamie hadn't just seen you with drool on your face, wearing his sweats and your hair a complete disaster. Anything would be an improvement over that. It was that thought that had you saying, "Sounds good. I'll see you in about twenty minutes then."

 "Ok see you soon." You hung up and then quickly went to add at least a bit of lip gloss and mascara to your face.

 It was about twenty minutes later that you were pulling into your garage and then walking the short distance to Jamie's. This time foregoing parking at his place. He opened the door before you even had a chance to knock. "Hey, (Y/N). How's it going tonight?"

 It seemed like a loaded question when he was standing there dressed in a pristine white dress shirt, his chest hair peeking out from where he'd undone the first couple buttons. Suddenly, your mouth went dry. When you were sixteen, Jamie didn't have a hair on his chest. Well, maybe there were one or two that he was awfully proud of, but they really didn't count. This was just another sign of how much he'd changed and grown into the man that stood before you today. You'd hoped he'd changed in other ways as well. "Much better tonight. My feet are all ready for you to give me the grand tour."

 "Alright, then let's head out." He had his car in the garage, so you followed him through the house to the SUV. In true Jamie Benn fashion, he came over and opened the door for you. It was something he'd always done when you were younger, as his mom had instilled those gentlemanly courtesies in him. It was weird being in the car with him again. Part of you kept waiting for him to grab your hand and hold it like he used to and you found yourself glancing down every so often at his large fingers gripping the gearshift instead of your hand.

 He pointed out different landmarks as you passed and told you that despite what the navigation system said this was the fastest way to get to downtown from your house. The two of you chatted the whole entire time, while the music played softly in the background. "So, you're going to want to use this gate." Jamie was saying right as his playlist changed to a song from the movie Frozen.

 "So, are you are an Anna or an Elsa fan?" you teased.

 "What?" It was then that he realized what was playing, and quickly changed the song. "I have that on here for my niece."

 He pulled into the players' parking spot, "Uh huh, sure Jame. Admit it you like the movie." He shut the car off and you both got out.

 "I may have watched it with Soph once," he said sheepishly and your heart warmed at the idea of him sitting there with the little girl watching one of Disney's hit movies. You always knew that he would make a great dad, and having that song just proved it.

 You were walking side by side now and you couldn't resist dancing around him, while you sang the lyrics. "Let it go, let it go, can't hold it back anymore." You were walking backward not having a clue where you were going as you continued. "Come on Jame, sing with me. You know you want to…Let it go, let it go, turn away and slam the door."

 "Stop," he chided but had a grin a mile long on his face.

 You twirled around him another time, hands dancing along his arm. "I don't care what they're going to say," you belted out; the words echoing off the cement walls around you. "Let the storm rage on…"

 "The cold never bothered me anyway." Jamie sang finally joining you. You bouncing up and down as he sang with you, not paying attention as your eyes were focused on him and not where you were going. He reached out and grabbed you right as you started to trip on a large cord that was behind you. "Careful there Elsa." Your hands went to his chest, your palm resting where his heart was racing, as his slid around your waist and pulled you in close to him. Pressed up against him, you couldn't help the urge that came over you to kiss him; he was just so close, and his eyes were smiling into yours, and it felt like the perfect moment to test the waters out. So, you slid your hands just a little further up his chest, and you raised up on your tiptoes so that your lips were mere inches from him, and then your watch chimed again; the damn thing reminding you to breathe, and the moment was lost.

 You dropped back down onto the balls of your feet but still kept that smile plastered on your face. "Thanks for saving me Olaf," you said and tapped his chest, before stepping out of his embrace.

 "Olaf? I was thinking more Kristoff."

 You tapped your finger on your chin, looking him up and down. "You're right, I was wrong. You're definitely Sven."

 "The reindeer?"

 "I knew you've watched that movie more than just once with your niece."

 You were finally at the door, and Jamie was entering a code to get into the building since there wasn't anything going on at the AAC today. "Ok, you got me, but really Sven?"

 "What's wrong with Sven? He's sweet, kind, lovable…" Shit the moment the word came out of your mouth you wanted to take it back. Of course, Jamie was lovable too but you weren't sure you were ready to be the one loving him. There was too much uncertainty in doing that just yet. You coughed trying to cover up the slip of tongue and then added, "He's also oddly quiet when there are people around. Kind of like someone else I know."

 He raked his hand through his hair, an action that your fingers longed to do. "I'm only that way around people I don't know…and the media." You knew this about him, of course, because you'd watched a few of his interviews. His answers were always clipped and short, which sometimes gave the impression he was standoffish, but then he would throw a little comment here and there and the real Jamie would come out. "But anyhow, we should be getting on with the tour."

 "Lead the way."

  JAMIE'S POV

 Had she really just called you lovable? Moreover, had she just been about to kiss you? That damn watch of hers kept beeping at the most inappropriate times and it was maddening. Something had changed since she'd practically run out of your house this morning. You weren't sure what, but she'd definitely let her guard down some, and you were all for it. You knew it was going to take baby steps to get back into her heart, but those steps seemed to be coming more and more frequently and you weren't complaining.

 You were surprised when (Y/N) agreed to the tour tonight, for you thought for sure that she'd avoid you at all cost after you had fallen asleep with her on the sofa last night. It was the last thing that you intended but she had felt so right in your arms, that you'd just let yourself get caught up in the moment. God, she looked so adorable this morning, hair messy, with her cheeks all rosy from sleeping on you, and then how she was wearing your sweats; there was nothing that you wanted more than to see her like that every day for the rest of your life. Baby steps, you reminded yourself.

 The tour around the arena went pretty well. You showed her everything that you could think of, ending the tour in the training room, just as you had the other day. She was taking everything in, noticing that Dave and his crew had implemented all the ideas she had talked about the other day. "Everything look ok?"

 "Oh yeah, they did an amazing job." She was opening drawers and checking supplies.

 "Well, I guess that's the end of the tour then." You glanced down at your watch to notice that it was almost six o'clock. You were definitely going to hit rush hour traffic. "If we head out now, it'll probably take us an hour to get home. Maybe a little less, if I hurry."

 "Oh, do you have to be some place?"

 "Um…no. Why?"

 "Well, you're all dressed up, thought maybe you had a hot date or something." There was a tremble in her voice that usually wasn't there, and you had to wonder if she asked the question in hopes that you weren't seeing anyone.

 "No, no hot date. I actually…" Shit, now it was your turn to get all tongue-tied. "Well, I mean…I thought we could have dinner downtown here and really celebrate your big surgery."

 "Oh!" There was a bit of shock in her voice. "I mean last night was perfect. You don't have to take me to dinner, after everything you did."

 You raked your hands through your hair again. It was a bad nervous habit, that served as a distraction while you tried to think of something to say. This time there was nothing clever that came to mind. "What if I want to take you to dinner?"

 The corner of her lip picked up on the right side of her face, that was the first sign she gave, telling you that she liked the idea. It got you excited that she might just agree, to the plan you had, but then it seemed like she was getting into her head, as she took a moment to think about your offer. "You know what?" It wasn't really a question, so you remained quiet. "Dinner sounds amazing, but only on one condition." You cocked a brow at her, silently asking what that was. "I get to buy."

 "Oh no, I asked you out." Oh shit, that came out wrong, you didn't mean it to sound like you'd asked her out on a date, that for sure would scare her away. "Besides my mom would kill me if she found out I let you pay," you quickly added hoping that it would cover up your blunder.

 "Hmm," she mused. "I guess we'll just have to see who has the quicker hands when the check comes then." That sure sounded like a yes to you.

 "You're on, but I plan on winning."

 "We'll see," she said as she headed out the door of the training room. "Now, let me see if I can remember how to get out of here." She led the way out to the car and you only had to direct her one time, which was pretty good considering it took you a week to find your way around the place.

 The restaurant was one of the finest Dallas had to offer, and one of the main reasons why you didn't want (Y/N) paying, though you were sure that wouldn't deter her from trying. Being that you weren't sure if (Y/N) was going to say yes to dinner, you didn't have a reservation, though when you slipped the maître d a hundred-dollar bill and your name; you were suddenly shown the nicest table in the place, one that was quiet and out of the way. Conversation between you and (Y/N) flowed easily, as did the wine, though you made sure not to drink too much as you'd be driving the two of you home. It also helped you grab the check when the waiter brought it at the end of the night.

 "That's not fair." (Y/N) chided as your long arms reached out and snagged the leather pouch out of the man's hands, who looked a bit taken back by the action.

 "You said whoever had the fastest hands."

 "Yes, but I clearly had more wine than you, which limited my ability, and now I'm convinced you did that on purpose." She was always so adorable when she pouted, but right now you just wanted to kiss those pursed lips and you were having a hard time holding yourself back from doing just that.

 "One of us needed to drive home, but you didn't protest when I poured that last glass."

 "Well, it clearly didn't help my motor skills that's for sure. Though please mark it down, that I am paying next time." Next time? So, she planned on going out with you again. You were making more headway than you thought.

 You decided to forge ahead while she was in such a good mood, as you were coming close to running out of excuses for the two of you to get together. "And when would this next time be?"

 "Um, I'll have to check my schedule, but maybe I could cook you dinner next week. You know as maybe a thank you for helping me." She sat there across from you with this shy little smile playing across her lips. The look all too tantalizing, for it was doing things that it shouldn't to your nether regions.

 "Dinner at your place huh? Sounds like an offer I can't refuse." You paid the bill and then the two of you headed out. The drive back was fun, as the two of you continued with your flirtatious banter the whole way home. When you turned onto your street, disappointment reared its ugly head as the night was coming to an end. You wanted to spend more time with her. Hell, if you were being realistic you want her to fall asleep in your arms again so you could hold her all night long. You pulled into the garage, then got out of the car to help (Y/N) out.

 "Thanks for everything today, Jame. Including dinner which I was supposed to pay for."

 "You know I can run some drills with you to sharpen your hand-eye coordination if you want." There were also some other drills you'd like to be doing with her in the bedroom.

 "Well, I may just take you up on that." The two of you were standing in the driveway, not knowing how to end the night. If this was truly a date, you'd walk her home and maybe kiss her, but would she smack you if you tried that now? "I should be getting home. Thanks again for everything." She started down the drive, walking at a leisurely pace.

 "Hey (Y/NN)," you called out and she turned back towards you as you trotted up beside her. "Can I walk you home?" She gave you a curious look, and it did sound rather funny considering she lived only two doors down, but you weren't ready for your time with her to end just yet.

 You were just about to stumble through how it was just for safety, when she said, "Sure." You smiled at her and the two of you started the extremely short walk to her house. "You know, tonight was a lot of fun."

 "Yeah, it really was." You wanted to say it reminded you of old times, but you didn't want to bring up the bad ones that also went with that. "We should do it more often."

 "I'd like that." (Y/N) was shocking you at every turn tonight and you weren't sure what mystical force was in the air but you prayed that it didn't go away and make her hate you again. A comfortable silence fell over you both, it was one that you had with her long ago, though back then it was as if you could read each other thoughts. Now, you weren't sure what was going on in that complex mind of hers but if it continued to lead her on a path towards you; you weren't going to question it.

 You were just about to her front door, and damn if that didn't feel as if the two of you were speed walking over, even though you were strolling at a leisurely pace. Again, you searched for something so that you wouldn't have to leave her company just yet. "Hey, how's your patient doing? The one who's leg you saved."

 "Really great actually. I stopped in right before I left. He's got a long road ahead of him, but he was in really good spirits today."

 "All because of you."

 "I wouldn't go that far."

 "I would." She blushed at the compliment, as you finally made it to the front door.

 "Well, this is me." She said with a cute little smile and a shrug of her shoulder.

 There was really nothing more you could say to keep you at her front door, so you found yourself saying, "I guess my duty is fulfilled…now that you're safe at home and all."

 "So it seems." Was that a hint of reluctance you heard in her voice? Was she as sad to see the night end as you were? "Thanks again, Jame. It was fun." She entered the code to get in the house, unlocking the door and opening it. What she did next almost had you falling over, as she went up on her toes and placed a chaste kiss on your cheek. "Goodnight, Jame."

 A smile so bright, it could've lit up all of Dallas, appeared on your face, and she ducked inside right as you said. "Goodnight, (Y/NN)." As soon as the door closed, you pressed a hand to your cheek making sure that what had just happened was real and not something that you imagined. It had been real alright, and you felt like you were fifteen again, all giddy at the thought that the girl you liked, liked you back.

 Thank goodness, you only lived two doors down as you don't remember how you got back inside your own home, but there you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror grinning like a fool as you looked at the spot (Y/N) had just kissed. Now more than ever, you couldn't wait to see her again. Unfortunately, you had no excuse to call her this time or no definite date of when you'd see her again, just a promise that the two of you would have dinner again soon. While you looked forward to that, you wished that it would be happening sooner rather than later. You'd just have to come up with a plan.

 It seemed fate had your back this time though, as the following evening found her knocking on your door. "I hate to do this, but can I come in?" (Y/N) asked as she stood outside in the pouring rain, looking like a drowned rat. Well, maybe not a rat, but a very cute wet puppy for sure.

 "Yeah, sure." You said stepping aside as a loud crack of thunder sounded in the air.

 "I'm sorry to do this, but the code to the house isn't working and I left my phone, and my bag, at Jessi's when I was taking out her stitches." She stood there dripping wet in your foyer. "If I could just use your phone to call her, I'll run back over there."

 "Run? Where's your car?"

 "Locked, in the garage. I didn't realize it was going to storm and had just walked over there. I was almost home when it started."

 "Let me grab you a towel." You went and grabbed one out of the guest bathroom downstairs, then handed it to her to dry off. "I'll call Jess for you, but you're not running back over there. I'll drive you."

 She gave you a smile, before toweling off her hair. "Thank you."

 You went to the kitchen to grab your phone and call your soon to be sister-in-law. "Hey, Jess."

 "Hey, Chubbs, what's up?" Jess replied.

 "(Y/N) locked herself out of the house and I guess she left her stuff at your place. I was going to drive her over so she could get it if that's ok."

 There was silence on the other end of the phone and you were wondering if the two of you got disconnected or something with the storm. "Hmmm," she finally mumbled. "I'm going to do you a huge favor here and tell you I'm not home, even though I totally am."

 "What?"

 "You know I love you, but you're so dense sometimes." How were you the one that was dumb when she didn't make any sense? "Tell (Y/N) that I had to run to a friend's house and you're not sure when I'll be home with the storm. That way the two of you can spend a little more time together."

 "Oh," you said as you finally caught on to her plan.

 "You owe me one. Tell her I'll call you when I get back, which probably won't be for a while." You'd take all the time that you could get with (Y/N). "If you don't answer, I'll take that as a good sign." You could almost see her winking at you through the phone.

 "Thank Jess. You're literally the best."

 "I know," she quipped back, then hung up the phone.

 You went back out to where (Y/N) was standing in your entryway. "Apparently, Jess took off to a friend's house the minute you left. She said she's didn't realize you left your stuff or she would've dropped it off. She's going to call when she gets back, but it's going to be a bit with the storm."

 "Oh," (Y/N) stood there a little shocked, not knowing what to do. "Well, maybe if I go try the code again it will work."

 Another crack of thunder, with streaks of lightning, filled the sky. "(Y/N), you are not going back over there in the rain. Just stay here until the storm dies down. They usually pass pretty quick." But then again, sometimes they didn't and this was one you were hoping would stick around for at least a few more hours.

[fallingappleshurt]

Do y’all wanna see the VERY BASIC outline for my AU based off the Project Pink story, this shit that I wrote while sleep deprived

Too bad have it anyways

(I will be adding a lot more to this AU and might change some stuff but here are just the basics, god I’m tired)

ANYWAYS Finding a Home

There aren’t really any set age ranges or stories in place for this yet, it’s more just a brain dump word vomit thing

Techno:

-A really good student even though he procrastinates all of the time

-He really likes to read

-Has really big boxy glasses that are too big for his face (He’ll grow into them eventually)

-He has claimed himself to be Wilbur’s protector of sorts, making sure he doesn;t do anything too reckless or stupid and overall just trying to help him

-He has stopped Wilbur from doing so much stupid shit, you don’t even know

-They have been through about 6 foster homes before being placed with Phil

-They were split up once but after a few weeks Techno got sick of his home and met up with Wilbur, who hid him for two days before getting busted

-They put Techno back in the same home but he ran away again, he saved up money and stayed in a gross motel for a day then in a park for another before being found

-Finally he was placed back with Wilbur and they were put with Phil

-Techno is obsessed with space, absolutely star-struck (haHA) by it

- The different planets and their environments, stars, comets, he thinks it’ll all super interesting

-He has those shitty glow in the dark stars on the wall next to his bunk

-Once he and Wilbur snuck out to the woods at night and climbed up a tree to star gaze away from city lights

-(Majority of their ‘delinquent stuff was before they met Phil)

-He and Wilbur would spray paint animal faces on water tanks and abandoned properties

-They spent half of their childhood in a kind of crappy neighborhood with weird streets, trashy houses, and the town was overall just dumpy

-They would wander around and explore some of the closed off or abandoned houses just to see what was there

-They couldn't do this any when they were placed with Phil, who lives in the suburbs

-They can still cause chaos, somewhat, where he works

-Techno and Phil go to the library everyone, it’s become a tradition

-Techno likes pigs, enough said

Wilbur:

-Dirty crime boy

-Has definitely hidden from the cops before, nothing that serious

-Really likes to play the guitar

-He has fairy lights hanging around the top bunk of his bed, there was nothing to hang them on so he taped them to the wall

-He is actually really good with spray paint

-Phil got some old wooden boards for Wilbur to paint on instead of private property, cause, ya know

-He gets is paint from some rando at school

- He really likes to adventure and sneak around

-Half of the stuff he does gives Techno a heart attack

-Wilbur is okay at school but he doesn’t really like it but for some reason he is really good at science

-He’s mad there isn’t a guitar option for the band or orchestra

-At an old foster home he would steal an older siblings guitar to practice with, he did this so much to the point where they would have to lock it away so he couldn’t get to it

-So he learned to pick locks

-So they had to hide it in different places

-He really likes the ocean, especially coral reefs and sea animals

-He wants to scuba dive some day!

-Techno learned a bunch of ocean facts and will randomly spew them at Wilbur

-He enjoys it

-Wilbur likes to listen to Techno talk about anything like books, shows, movies, anything that he is interested in and will listen to Techno talk about it for hours, it’s especially interesting when he’s passionate about the topic and Wilbur can see him getting more excited and into it

-Techno has books that’d read outloud to Wilbur when they were younger, sometimes when they can’t sleep, he’ll read out loud again

-Wilbur really likes stickers and has a box of them but doesn’t know where to put them so they just stay in the box

-He keeps collecting them though

-He teaches Tommy the guitar every Thursday

-He will randomly walk up behind Techno and rest his chin on Technio’s head

Phil:

-He is the manager of a mall (BEAR WITH ME)

- He has fostered kids before but never adopted before Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy

-He is good at handling chaos, thank god, and isn’t really phased by half of the stuff his kids do

-He gardens, he randomly started one day and found out he has a green thumb

-He also is a good cook and spends time trying to teach the boys how to cook, or at least not set the kitchen on fire

-Techno and Tommy show promise but Wilbur might be a lost cause for cooking

-He has a heart tattooed on his left wrist

-The bucket hat is something he wears when gardening

-He bought Wilbur his first guitar and a song book to go with it, later on he got Wilbur a notebook so he could write songs or anything he wanted to

-He takes Techno to the library every week, the first time they went Techno only got a few books but the next time he got like 16 and some of them were thick boys and Techno couldn’t carry them all

-He has taken all of them to the aquarium and Wilbur almost lost his shit trying to see everything

-Techno read all of the fish information tablets and Tommy liked the interactive pool where you could poke rocks and shit

-He brings them to work with him sometimes and lets them wander around the mall, praying to god they don’t set shit on fire

-He is really patient with Tommy but once they got comfortable with each other he had no problem teasing him, all of the boys really

-He really likes birds and has a bird feeder in the tree in their backyard

Tommy:

-Gremlin

-That’s it

- He is super energetic and bouncy

-He has trouble falling asleep sometimes because of this

-He is loud and can be rude but means well

-He wasn’t super interested in a lot of things but he loves legos, even if there aren’t any specific things he has to build, he just likes to make giant towers with them and sets them up around the house

-They have all stepped on so many legos, oh so many legos

-He’s really smart but has a hard time focusing so he gets help from Techno and Wilbur, and Phil, sometimes

-His knees are constantly scraped

-He made friends with a kid named Tubbo from school, they became close friends really quickly

-Tubbo and Tommy switched bandanas, Tommy gave Tubbo his red one and Tubbo gave Tommy his green one (YES I’m going THERE)

-Tommy doesn’t let anyone else touch it

-None of the others actually knew about Tubbo, they’d ask who gave him the bandana and he’d say some girl from school or something

-After awhile Tommy wanted to see Tubbo outside of school so he lied and said he joined a club then would go hang out with Tubbo after school at a park

-This went on for weeks until Techno and Wilbur got suspicious, Wilbur actually cut class and followed Tommy, who was still in elementary, like 5th grade, at the time and got out earlier, and saw him meeting at a park

-He didn’t find this to be that bad and told Techno but not Phil

-Eventually Tubbo got to meet the rest of the family but that wasn’t until sixth grade or so

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Twenty | Ooo I Ooo I Ooo I Ooo I (Part 2 of 2 | His POV) [First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Song Referenced

• • •

did he give you an exact date?

Unfortunately, no.

At first, I had at least until the end of the year, but…

CPS wants this resolved quicker than he thought.

guessin' you need to finish tourin' the underground first then, right?

Yes.

Would it be possible the day after tomorrow?

Or just… sometime this weekend?

I can go by myself, but…

Asgore won't allow that unless I'm with someone else.

Says I shouldn't be walking so far and so long alone if I haven't recovered yet.

you don't need to go alone, either way.

be it my job or not, I still wanna help out.

so the day after tomorrow's fine with me, bud.

we can discuss those details better when we drive over to tori's school tomorrow.

Are you sure?

And…

Does that 'we' imply you'll be picking us up?

100%

but yeah, i'll drive you guys there.

and pick up paps on the way, too.

it's easier for all four of us.

Mhm.

don't believe me?

Oh, I believe you.

I just don't think that's the only reason why you're picking us up, when I already have the address.

so what's the other one?

Don't get cocky, Serif.

I'm not gonna type that out.

It's a godsend Frisk will be with us, too.

'Cause I sure don't trust being alone with you anymore.

inna bad way?

Nah.

niiice.

pick you guys up tomorrow, then?

Yes.

We'll see you tomorrow.

And thank you in advance.

∆ Sticker | Happy Cartoon Bunny™ waving goodbye ∆

"You've changed, Sans."

He ignores that comment to view (Y/N)'s last two messages again.

While he doesn't know why that particular sticker bothers his mind so much, a few scrolls up to revise his chat history with the human reveal this is the first time they've shown any sort of informality or spontaneity in their typing. (Y/N) came off cold in their texts, though -- based on how they acted outside of a chat app -- that wasn't their intention, but more of an automatic way for them to talk with someone they didn't exactly deem trustworthy enough yet. He grins at that thought and feels his face warm up, something he confirms when touching his cheekbone, cold palm contrasting with that heat.

"You're wasting your time with that human," Drunk Bun says, snapping him out of his daydreaming.

They've sat themselves on the bar stool next to him and slam what looks like their tenth can of cheap, off-brand beer against the counter, crunching it down into more than half its size. He doesn't know how long they've stood there or why he's lost this much awareness of his surroundings. The bar's practically empty and calm now compared to before, though there's loud music blaring from the jukebox, playing an already overplayed song on repeat. There's no excuse for his distracted mind other than having lost himself while texting with the human, so he admits that fault with partial sourness, against accepting he's that smitten with them.

"You're changing for the worse," his company adds, narrowing their eyes at him. "Every time we come here to catch up, you mention something stupid about that (L/N) person, or just text the whole evening away with them. I... I've never seen you worry so much about someone so inconsequential." They scoff and cross their arms tight. "I may understand you caring after Frisk as a way to repay them for rescuing us, but (L/N) is completely useless. They've done absolutely nothing remarkable beyond creating a huge scene at that bus you were both on."

"Being harassed by a rando and faintin' after's them causin' a scene?" Sans asks, quirking an eye socket.

"Oh, screw off, bone boy -- You know what I mean. They've brought you nothing but trouble and needless responsibilities!" The bunny grits their teeth and slams their hand over the table, dragging eyes to their side. "I'm betting you can't go a day without texting them or without you doing something for them."

"You need to-"

Beep-beep.

The phone is snatched from his hands just as quick as that noise rings.

"Give that back."

"No." They keep the phone right above him, taking advantage of his shorter height. "Your fault for not putting a lock on it."

Drunk Bun scoots away and holds the phone tight as they fumble with it. Then, they stop to look at what he assumes is another text message from the human. A grimace shows on their face and they grasp the device tight, enough to make the screen complain and warn them over the pressure they're exerting against it. "Now this is beyond pathetic, Sans," they comment, letting out a loud, burst laugh. "Is this seriously the one you're sacrificing your entire personality for?" They give him his phone back, though not before hesitating when it's time to let go. "That human is-"

"Gimme a sec."

His attention falls on the picture displayed on screen, revealing (Y/N) and Frisk posing in it. The adult wears a suit and tie while the child has Toriel's school uniform on. The former's pose appears forced and awkward while the latter seems to be the reason the picture was taken with how excited they seem about their outfit.

Frisk wanted me to show you this.

It's what we'll be wearing for tomorrow!

There's a three-minute interval between that and the next message.

I know classes still haven't started there, but… They wanted to wear it, so I joined them by trying on something special for, well…

That job offer you told me about.

I don't know if I'll accept or not yet, but…

Thank you for the opportunity, and for believing in me.

∆ Sticker | Happy Cartoon Bunny™ giving a thumbs-up ∆

"You're grossing me out, honestly. What kind of look is that?"

It takes him a while to react, focus glued on (Y/N)'s messages.

"What look?"

"That lovesick look on your face." Tears form on their eyes -- almost abruptly, hadn't their voice shaken right before that. "I- I've been flirting with you for years, and yet you've never once looked at me like that before." They stand up straight, stare down at him, and rest their hands on the table, blinking their tears away throughout. "I've known you for so damn long, and yet you fall for the first human you see up here? I-"

"So that's what this's about," he says, chuckling. "You're-"

"Don't you dare brush everything off as me having a crush on you, Sans." They hiss. "You're not the same as before, and that's as clear as day. You worry a lot more now, and… And you actually seem to care more about other stuff beyond your job and sleeping on it. Y- You-"

"Aren't those good things?"

"Maybe, but your entire personality changing isn't. I liked you better when you were less worked up with stuff that's none of your business." They stop to grab his phone again; a grin breaks the sorrow on their face. "But hey, y- you're just doing your job, aren't you? You should set things straight with that human and remind them you're only with them because Asgore told you to in that agreement letter you gave them."

"Won't work if I flirted with 'em first. Pretty sure they'll see right through my lies."

"Y- You flirted with them first?!"

"Yeah."

He dodges a punch aimed right at his face.

"Wait-"

They throw a second punch -- this one turning out to be a spoof -- and laugh at the sight of him falling for it; they then toss the phone high over his head after he's finished dodging that fake attack, and aim yet another punch right after.

He salvages the device, though at the cost of taking the blow right on his left eye socket.

"How can you admit that so easily? You're awful!"

"'Cause you're only a close friend. I don't owe you an explanation about who I'm dating, and even less if you're gonna be actin' this way."

Drunk Bun springs at him, only to be held back by the rest of the regulars sitting near the scene, sufficiently fast enough for them not to wrangle Sans in anything major. They struggle and thrash at everyone around, trying to break free, but failing each time. It takes a fully-armored guard dog and a buff bear for them to be fought back into their rightful place, and yet another strong monster for them to let go of a wine bottle they insist on downing when seated.

Grillby intervenes as well by warning them to calm down, unless they want to be kicked out. Meanwhile, Sans turns on the camera and looks at his reflection through it, revealing a faint soreness already forming around his eye socket -- right where his companion had punched at. Being primarily made out of bones brought advantages, but having magical properties often led to him bruising easily.

Another regular approaches him and offers him a first aid kit, one he brings back to his seat to heal himself there.

While he takes out an antibiotic and some cotton pads with one hand, he uses the other to busy himself with (L/N)'s messages, against leaving them on read for so long.

no probs.

here at your service.

frisk looks great, btw.

and you? hot. 😘🔥

awkwardly hot.

hotwkward.

Frisk is reading the replies, you know?

damn.

i mean…

darn.

don't tell 'em i said that.

∆ Audio | 0:46 ∆

He clicks on it to hear Frisk giggling along with (Y/N) commenting they won't. It later continues with them asking if he's alright, specifying what they mean by highlighting a picture, this one sent by him. Blurriness makes up most of it when he clicks on it and zooms in, yet he can identify what looks like his companion from earlier, who'd apparently snapped and sent the human a photo by accident.

that's a friend o' mine.

they're, uh, kinda tipsy, so they got inna fight with me.

Really?

Are you okay?

yeah, just a lil' sore where they punched at.

What?!

i'm fine, puddin'.

dw about it.

Where's that bar at?

I'm near the mall, so I can drop by if you need anything.

aren't you still shoppin'?

take it easy.

I'm almost done.

Just trying out one more outfit.

can I see?

👀

Sure.

∆ Attachment | 2 images ∆

To his surprise, they're not only posing much more freely now, but they've also made the effort to strike another pose from a different angle. The human's outfit is composed of a dark green, semi-formal (suit/dress), fit for a night out. They've gone as far as to edit a wink emoji and some hearts at the corner of one -- the most flirty of the two.

So...

What do you think?

*jaw drops to floor, irises pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, soul beats out of rib cage, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of teeth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens jacket, combs skull* ahem, you look real lovely.

*bwushes* Thank uwu kindwy, handswome. I'm vewy fwattewed.

...frisk ain't there anymore, right?

If they wewe, duwu uwu twhink I'd be twyping wike thiws?

faiw poiwnt.

Anyway…

I noticed the changes you made in that copy-paste, and…

You didn't edit the tongue part out.

So…

What that tongue do, baby?

😳

…lick…

...ice cream.

🔥🔥🔥

Ah, that's hot.

Or should I say cold?

And speaking of cold…

I'm gonna get you an ice pack or something.

You should take care of where it's sore, if you don't want it to bruise more.

whatta way to change the subject away from our moment, puddin'.

but uh, thanks in advance.

Anytime, teddy bear.

uwu

owo

• • •

"Am I really changin', Grillbs?" Sans asks, emptying his beer in three long gulps. "Be honest with me."

The one questioned takes the empty can from his hands and shakes his head in what looks more like disapproval rather than him answering that question. He first warns the skeleton about getting drunk, and reminds him to stay sober if he wants an answer as well as prevent himself from drunk-texting the source of his lovelorn self. When receiving a promise from him in response, he later answers with a 'no' and that he's still the same whenever he came to visit the bar.

"So I'm only different when I'm talkin' about 'em?"

Grillby nods.

"Inna bad way?"

He shakes his head.

"Then…"

Sans is stopped with a hand over his and faced with a stern look, despite the owner of it having no eyes or mouth.

"If they make you happy, then it's alright for you to show it," a regular states, intervening in the conversation. "You're not a lifeless machine. And nobody's one-dimensional either, so you shouldn't force yourself to act the same, strict way all the time. If you want to be all mushy with that human, then so be it. Aren't you the one who always says stuff like 'nothing really matters; in the end, we'll all die'? What's stopping you now of all times? Where's that hardcore nihilist I've known since years ago?

Sans rubs the back of his neck and huffs.

Clearly, neither the regular nor Grillby understood what he truly meant to say with his questions. He didn't mind his relationship with the human, but he also didn't want his old self to be replaced by someone he wasn't, as a result. There were things he didn't want to change about his old self -- things he feared would fade away now that he seemed to be getting into something as complex as a romantic relationship. There were parts of him he needed to keep in case the world were to start over again -- in case something went wrong. He couldn't allow himself to grow soft.

A pat on his shoulder lets him know he's lost himself in those thoughts.

"It's alright to fear change, but don't let that hold you back. If you like that human and they do, too -- Then what's there keeping you from going for it?"

It's not that easy.

Still, he keeps that thought quiet and replies with, "Thanks, but I'll probably have to give that more ti-"

The door of the bar opens to reveal someone new to it, but not so much unknown to Sans, who already finds himself distracted by them. (Y/N) stands in front of the entrance, looking this way and that. Frisk holds on to their hand, while a reusable shopping bag's hung over their parent's arm; a pharmacy's logo and name can be seen stamped on it. The eldest human approaches the area with caution, until their child assures them -- once, twice, and then thrice -- they've been to this place before and that it serves other purposes beyond that of providing alcohol and provoking fights. When they look forward, he meets their eyes and tries to glance away quickly, only to be called out by them soon after. They don't take long to smile wide and bright, wave, and -- finally -- approach his side after he waves back at them.

Rather than giving him whatever's in the bag, they instead let go of Frisk's hand, ask them if they want anything to eat, and give them some money when they sign the word 'fries'. Then, they sit on the stool next to his and settle the bag on their lap. "Come closer, and close your eye sockets," they say, still smiling. "It's your left one, right? It looks really sore already."

He nods and tries to ignore the warmth in his soul when they place a hand over his.

In his favour, they let go of him not long after to disinfect their hands and slip some gloves on when these dry out.

"I-"

"Shh."

(Y/N) holds his chin with their hand and grazes their fingers against his injury, their touch slow and careful as they apply some antibiotic over and around it. They then slide an eye patch on him and assumedly check around for any more bruises, based on the feeling of their hands grazing against his torso, arms, and neck. "The ice pack's in the bag -- Remember to throw it in the freezer when you get home." They touch his chest again, even more gentle this time. "So..." He notices some hesitance when they pull their hand back. "You're not hurt anywhere else?"

He shakes his head, words caught in his throat.

"Alright, but don't look yet."

Doing as told, Sans waits for whatever comes next. He stays still and stiff, until he feels their lips brush close to his eye socket, where they lay a soft, ticklish kiss at. They do the same with his other one and finish it off by kissing his nose cavity.

"Now you can."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

...

......

🌋🔥💥 ANNOYING NOTICE TIME 💥🔥🌋

So, here's a summary of all the events happening this month, which will affect Fairytale Complex's update schedule in various ways:

1. I will be rewriting all my other fics that aren't FaiCom, since I'm pretty darn happy and proud of the new writing style I've developed with this fanfic, and so I want to implement it into my older stories (with the exception of the Tom Nook x Reader one -- I'm rewriting that one despite being recent because it started off as a wild, 3 am energy project after finishing with finals, but then I actually had way more fun than I originally anticipated, so I'll be turning it into a long fic just like this one, lol). This means FaiCom will be taking a short, 1 to 2 week break after Arc 2 (Chapter 25) ends, to dedicate some time to all 4 of these stories.

2. I'm taking extracurricular classes/hobby workshops this summer, so I need to tweak my schedule again. This means FaiCom will be changing its schedule back to the old one, composed of weekly updates on Mondays, Wednesdays, and/or Fridays.

3. As mentioned previously, Pride Month is here, so I'll be making some one-shots and drabbles related to it, meaning updates might be slightly less frequent this month. BUT, a good majority of them are FaiCom related ones (and they will be posted on a different book to avoid conflicting with regular updates, too). More on that later on!

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

@paperb9gs

@merak0

[percontaion-points]

Raven King chapter 6

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions.

Chapter 6

Nicky was bringing Jim from his improv class...

I thought Nicky had a long-term boyfriend?

Well, if he did, he probably doesn't anymore. Not with all of Nicky's jokes about cheating and him taking some rando to the big dinner.

Blackwell was slow to appear in the distance, but it didn't take long to spot the two stadiums. The football and Exy stadium were on opposite sides of the campus like massive bookends.

I'm still having a really difficult time swallowing that society completely shifted because of a sport invented some 30 years earlier.

Like I'm willing to overlook a lot for the sake of a story. But for society to just go completely and utterly apeshit over a 30 year old sport makes zero sense. AND I READ THE STORY WHERE THE LADY HAD SEX WITH THE LITERAL BULL.

Wymack pulled a bottle of vodka out of the bag and put it down beside Kevin. "You have ten seconds to inhale as much of this as you can. I'm timing you. Go."

It was alarming how much a man could drink when he needed an emotional crutch.

WOW THAT'S SUPER FUCKING HEALTHY.

Like I get that his foster-father and brother abused the shit out of him. But therapy is much better than alcoholism.

Madison was using the home locker room to change right now, so the Foxes had to go all the way around to the away side.

I really love how there's this big fancy banquet dinner where they invite all of the college exy teams, and they literally have to change in the locker room.

My high school did this band banquet, too. But we didn't have to fucking eat dinner out on the football field with our parents... We had the school cafeteria for the evening.

Out of touch author can't even think of a world where these idiots would want to rent a banquet hall. Oh no... it's got to be at the fucking stadium, for some unholy reason.

Judging by Neil's quick headcount, the Ravens hadn't brought dates. They hadn't brought any color along, either. All twenty-two of them were dressed head-to-toe in black. The twenty men wore the same shirts and slacks, and the two women wore identical dresses. They even sat the exact same way, all with their right elbows on the table, all of them with their chins in their hands. Another team might look foolish going so far, but somehow the Ravens looked imposing.

I joke about the fox characters outside of Neil, Kevin, and Andrew being cardboard cut-outs... but this ain't got nothing on those cardboard cutouts.

"I know who you are," Riko said. "Who here doesn't? You're the woman who captains a Class I team. You've done admittedly well despite your disadvantages."

CASUAL SEXISM.

The man to Riko's right stood up as soon as the Foxes were settled and walked behind the Ravens until he was across from Neil. Two fingers to the woman's shoulder got her out of her chair and she moved to the newly-emptied seat. The stranger sat across from Neil. As he did the Ravens fell out of their frozen poses, but they did so only to lean back as one in their chairs.

Did they practice this ahead of time?

The black three tattooed on his left cheekbone meant he could be no one but Jean Moreau.

Imagine getting a tattoo of a college sports number. Of which you would only get to play for a few years before being forced out.

It took him only a few seconds to realize the Ravens were coming. The entire team was crossing the court toward Kevin, walking in V formation like a flock of birds going south.

I can't with her descriptions of the Ravens. Like one team's colors are orange and white, and the other is black and red. ONE OF THEM IS GUD AND THE OTHER IS EBUL. THE RAVENS ARE EBUL, AND THEY'RE ALL HENCHMEN ROBOTS.

"We're sure it is," the Raven striker said, "seeing how you're dating a prostitute."

"Stripper," Dan corrected...

[…]

Neil tried not to stare at her. He would have dismissed the Raven's insult as an outright lie if not for Dan's easy response. Too late he remembered her telling him she'd worked an overnight job during high school to make ends meet.

THE AUTHOR DOES REALIZE THAT YOU HAVE TO BE 18 TO WORK JOBS LIKE THAT... RIGHT?! Like please tell me that the author didn't write about a 15 year old getting a job as a stripper.

This series is bad enough without needing to drag child strippers into the mix.

The others fell asleep within a few miles, but Neil spent the entire ride thinking about Riko and his father.

Chapter 6 summary: So it's time for the banquet. They do a random lottery draw where they decide which school will host the banquet this year. The school picked is only about four hours away. The banquet itself lasts for two days, in order to justify some of the travel time for those further away. However, the foxes are of the opinion “fuck that; we're not staying the entire two days”.

As they get closer to the school, Kevin starts to have a panic attack. As the others leave the bus, David gives Kevin some alcohol, and tells him to chug it. Which... yeah, that sounds fucking healthy. They have to change out in the locker room, which is fucking weird if you ask me. And then they go into the stadium, which has been turned into a banquet hall. The sight makes Neil angry, and mood. Rent a fucking banquet hall for this, assholes.

They're upset to see that the foxes are randomly supposed to be sitting across from the ravens. And the ravens are all dressed like evil henchmen, and are even randomly acting in unison. Talk about zero personality. David warned the others not to pick a fight, but obviously wasn't counting on Riko bringing his planet-sized ego with him. A rando Raven player named Jean-- who is the embodiment of every French stereotype you can think of-- starts to antagonize Neil, and calls him by a bunch of Neil's former names. He then moves on and starts insulting everybody else.

Their little pissing match goes on for a long while. But hey, it's not like anything else is going on, so this might as well happen, I guess. Finally, Riko antagonizes Neil into speaking, and Neil calls Riko out on his shit, saying that he's a whiny, entitled little brat who doesn't have anything going for him. Then, Jean and Riko start to act like they “own” Neil, which has fucking creepy slavery undertones to what they're saying.

David finally shows up to say that they're trying to move the foxes to another table. As they get up to leave, Jean can't help but name-drop Neil's father. The others rally around Kevin and Neil once they're away. Kevin is sent back to the bus to drink some more liquor, and Neil thinks about following. Not only that, but just fucking leaving. But he doesn't, because then this series would be put out of its misery.

After dinner, then they put all of the tables away and everybody starts socializing and networking. The ravens come over, act like they've never met the foxes before, but then continue to insult them. I'm really fucking over this. Riko's uncle and the raven coach comes over. The two teams awkwardly stare at one another, and the only thing this scene needs is some dramatic finger snapping. Tetsuji says that he ran fingerprint test off of a glass Neil drank out of back during that dumb morning talk show, and knows who he is. He yells at Neil about crimes that Neil's dad committed against The Family©, as if Neil himself personally did all of that. However, Neil stands his ground and refuses to be bullied by these assholes.

Matt finally drags Neil away, and threatens to tell the exy board about Riko's shit behavior and have him benched for the rest of the season. They all go back to the bus finally, and start to head home.