#on Emilie’s banner are actually disgusting
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“But my luck is so horrible so I had to pull thirty times just to get him” GIRL thirty pulls is actually nothing wdym 😭 me with 65 pulls until I got my first kaveh is crazier ☠️
#dora daily#98 pulls and he’s still c1 someone stop me from wishing on weapon banner and navias banner I don’t want her c1 but yet again the four stars#on Emilie’s banner are actually disgusting#xiangling for the infinitieth time 🤗 ugly ass razor and …. yanfei ….#the worst charas ever I tell you#xiangling I’m so tired of seeing her face 😭#anyways at least this banner was nice to me ig it had good four stars for once#whys genshin repeating the same old four stars#also genshin is trying to make ppl forget the boycott yeah so that’s probably why they’re having kaveh stuff#PLSSSS BOYCOTT MORE even tho it’s stupid and pointless just get mad at genshin so they can include kaveh more HAHA#who knows maybe nahidas birthday will pop around and he would be there she did say he embodies#the truest form of wisdom sumeru isn’t ready yet for hmmm#maybe this is the opportunity for nahida to talk to him directly
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Covering the Classics Part 2 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Anna knows her new coworkers want her to meet their friend Bob. But she's too hesitant, afraid to get herself in a situation where she's pining after someone new. During a spur of the moment shopping trip, Bob is delighted to bump into a woman he can only describe as adorable. Too bad he's never been great at the follow through.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+
Length: 3600 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
By the end of her first week teaching, Anna had learned many things, almost like she was a student herself. That nice, secluded ladies' restroom she found was secluded because one of the toilets regularly overflowed. The coffee in the teacher's lounge was actually disgusting, but the donuts were available every day. And Dr. Pham from the sociology department asked her out three times on Thursday, apparently because she wore her hair in two braids like Princess Anna from Frozen, a mistake she wouldn't be making again.
And she was so tired. She started to lose her voice on Friday morning from how much she had to talk in her lectures. She took the wrong notes to class with her and had to improvise an hour long class on Emily Dickinson, because she was too afraid to give one of her students the keys to her office door. So she sweated it out, but managed to sound somewhat coherent as she dismissed her class at noon.
She pressed her lips together. If she ran to get her sandwich and peanuts really quickly, she could join her new friends by the weird tree. After two days of joining them for lunch, she really liked both of them. She just didn't want to get their hopes up about their friend Bob whom she was supposedly perfect for.
Anna wasn't perfect for anybody. And frankly this Bob guy sounded like a dreamboat, which just made it worse. He'd probably laugh after taking one look at her, and if she opened her mouth and tried to talk to him, he'd run away scared. She already turned down their invitation to go to the Navy hangout bar on Saturday night, citing that she was too exhausted. But it was really because she needed to stand firm with herself and do everything she could to protect her feelings from now on.
After another few seconds of contemplation, she went to her office and got her lunch before heading to the quad. But today it was just Jessica there eating lasagna and garlic bread from a plastic container while Anna's stomach growled in jealousy.
"Hi," she greeted after she chewed up a bite of her perfect looking lunch. "It's just us today. Dr. Rosenthal apparently had a bunch of questions about the math curriculum and took Advanced Calculus out for a long working lunch at Covewood."
Anna had barely been in the city for more than two weeks, but even she had heard of Covewood. "That's a five star restaurant. A romantic date night hot spot."
"Mmhmm," Jessica agreed as she sunk her perfect teeth into the garlic bread.
Anna realized her own experience was fueling her next sentences, but she said them anyway. "Isn't she married? Her husband is okay with that?" she asked softly.
Advanced Physics burst into laughter. "Bradley loves Dr. Rosenthal. He's in his seventies, and he's one of the sweetest people at the school. They have him over for dinner sometimes. He actually did my tenure review."
"Oh," Anna replied, embarrassed that she could hardly relate to someone who trusted their spouse. "That actually sounds really nice."
"Hey, are you sure you don't want to come out tomorrow night? No pressure. I just think you'd have a fun time. The guys are all sweethearts."
Anna looked down at herself and her sad sandwich. She didn't even have money to spare for a beer that she would probably drink half of before she wanted to leave. And it didn't matter if the guys were sweet, she knew her two new friends would be champing at the bit to see how she and this Bob person interacted. "Not this weekend," she replied. "Maybe another night."
Instead of socializing, she spent her Saturday window shopping in North Park. She had a budget of exactly zero dollars, but she could entertain herself for hours this way. She gasped when she found a two story bookshop that claimed it contained new and used and rare finds, and she ran across the street to get to it.
It was darker and quieter inside than the sunlit, traffic filled streets, and when Anna took a deep breath, it reminded her of a cozy library. The clerk behind the register waved instead of speaking, so really, it just kept getting better. When she noticed the wooden sign on the wall informing her that The Classics were upstairs, she made her way up the creaky steps to a loft area with row after row of tall shelves.
"Perfect," she muttered, walking to the end of the open space and turning down the last tight row of bookshelves. She wasn't alone, but the only other occupant was a tall, slim man with broad shoulders and tidy, sandy colored hair. He seemed to be so absorbed by what he was reading, he didn't look up when Anna reached for an enormous copy of Shakespeare plays.
She almost moaned out loud; it was annotated and contained every play she had to teach in her Thursday morning English 300 class. It was well worn, and the cover felt nice in her hands. Shit. Of course it was seventy bucks. That was more than she spent on groceries last week. Maybe she could expense it to the department? She should probably know how to do that. Maybe she could text one of her new friends and ask if that was allowed.
But she slid the book back into place as a Vonnegut she didn't yet own caught her eye. She reached out for it with a steady hand, but as soon as her fingertips met the spine, a much larger hand, complete with graceful yet calloused fingers, wrapped around hers. Everything suddenly smelled clean like soap and also intriguingly like tea leaves. And then she heard a voice next to her ear that made her bite down on her lip as a ripple of pleasure teased her spine.
"Oh. I'm so sorry."
--------------------------
Bob had never been to this store before, and he wasn't really planning on stopping by today, but Mickey dragged him in and then ditched him for the children's section at the back of the store. Bob looked around downstairs, but as a poetry fan, he found that section to be seriously lacking, so he headed up to the loft instead.
He considered himself well-read until he realized how many classic novels he'd never even heard of before. And they all sounded really depressing. Which was kind of the point, he supposed, but if he was going to get something new to read, he was in the mood for a more upbeat story. Maybe a romance or a European adventure he could get lost in. Maybe a sweeping, romantic tale where the nice guy gets the girl for once.
After several tries, he still wasn't finding anything close to what he was hoping for. As he re-shevled The Bell Jar, he decided to just reach for a book at random. Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut? Maybe that would be more his speed. But when he reached for it, his fingers wrapped around a soft hand complete with glossy, burgundy fingernails instead of the actual book. He jumped an inch in the air, because he hadn't even been aware anyone else was in the aisle with him, let alone a woman who smelled like sweet perfume.
"Oh. I'm so sorry," he stammered, already mortified. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he wanted to jump off the loft railing and run out the shop door. There was only one word to accurately describe her: adorable. She had dark red hair done up in a messy braid, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "Oh."
"It's okay," she replied softly as she tried to hand him the book. "You can have it."
He shook his head, completely distracted, as he kept finding more things about her face that he liked. A grin curled along his lips as he said, "No, it's all yours. Really. I was just looking for something new to read."
She glanced down at the cover and then back at his face, and maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like she was blushing a bit. "Wow. I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be interested in reading a sarcastic take on global destruction on a sunny Saturday afternoon."
His eyebrows shot up. "Is that what it's about?"
Her laughter was also adorable. "Yeah, I mean... it's Vonnegut," she said with a bit of an eye roll. Oh no. She knew what she was talking about, and he kind of didn't. He was probably about to sound like an idiot.
Bob cleared his throat and pointed at a random spine to buy himself time. "What's this one about?"
She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "Two murders and a kidnapping."
"Oh," he said with a little laugh. "No thanks. How about this one?"
He wasn't even looking at the books now at all, preferring to watch her facial expression change as she checked another title. "Oh, that one's good. Also about murder."
He chuckled and pointed at another. "This one?"
She smirked and looked up at him. "Jealousy, rage, hatred, and also a lot of murder."
"Wow," Bob replied with what he was sure was a stupid looking smile. "I was hoping for something a little tamer? Perhaps less murder-y? Maybe I should go down and look in the children's section?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and listened to her laugh again.
"I could recommend a few books with little to no murder. Maybe even a happy ending," she told him, and he watched as she pushed her braid over her shoulder.
"I'll believe it when I see it," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. To his shock and amazement, her gaze followed his movement, and her blush returned.
When her tongue darted out between her lips, Bob could feel his heart beating in his temples. Her brown eyes drifted back up to his face, and he wondered if this was how Jake or Bradley used to feel when girls paid attention to them at the bar. It was decidedly really exciting.
He was going to be bold like his friends. He was going to ask her for her number. Maybe he'd see if she wanted to help him shop for some books, and he could buy her that horrible Vonnegut that she wanted, and then he'd ask her very nicely for her number.
"Floyd!"
Bob watched you jump as Mickey's voice echoed through the store.
"Floyd! Let's go!"
"S-Sorry," Bob muttered, stepping past her and heading for the loft railing. "Just... hang on for one second?"
As soon as Mickey looked up and saw him, he said, "We gotta go, man. I got some books for my nephews, but we'll be late to grab a drink before D&D if we don't leave now. You know how she gets when we're late." He was shaking a bag of books and heading for the door.
Bob did know for a fact that Jessica got annoyed when they showed up late because they got hungry or distracted on the way to The Hard Deck. "Just give me a minute," he told Mickey, but he was already outside.
He swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and turned around to find the aisle empty. Oh no. He checked the next row of shelves, and the next, and the next, until he got all the way to the stairs, but the adorable redhead was nowhere to be found. And he had no idea what her name was.
"Hello?" he called out softly, checking each aisle again until he was back where he started. Bob might have believed that he imagined the whole entire exchange with an attractive woman, except that there was one book propped up against the others right where he and she had been standing.
"A Room With a View by E. M. Forster," he mumbled as he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He glanced around again, but she was well and truly gone, leaving nothing except for what seemed like a book recommendation.
"Floyd!"
Bob sighed and tipped his head back in frustration. "Coming!"
He descended the stairs slowly, head swiveling in every direction, searching for brown eyes and a braid while he held the book. Gone. He paid for A Room With a View and headed outside to find Mickey looking quite annoyed. What he didn't see was the mystery girl watching him from the far end of the loft.
-----------------------
"She was real," Bob insisted as he held his glass of ginger ale a little tighter. "Just because you were too busy yelling doesn't mean I made her up in my mind. She had red hair and brown eyes."
Mickey gave him a skeptical look. "That's actually a really rare combination. And I know for a fact you happen to have an excellent imagination, my friend."
Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Why didn't I ask for her name and number?" Then he paused. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. There's no way she would have agreed to give it to me."
He thought about the book he bought sitting on the front seat of his truck next to his dice bag and character sheet, and he considered just going home for the night. Maybe he could start to read the book. Maybe he'd feel like writing.
Then he felt an arm slip around his waist. "Hi, Jessica," he said as he blushed when he looked down at Jake's petite girlfriend. A second later, Bradley's wife was next to him as well, and Bob realized they were wearing matching smirks.
"Hey, Bob," Jessica replied, giving him a little squeeze. "We were just wondering if you happened to like redheads."
Mickey snickered before he tipped his beer bottle back and finished the drink. "He loves them. Daydreams about them."
Bob shot him a withering look. "She was real."
"Who was real?" Bradley's wife asked as her husband came up behind her and set his chin on her shoulder. Great, now he was going to have a full audience of people informed about his embarrassing afternoon of not even knowing how to ask a woman what her name was.
"There was a cute girl at the bookstore in North Park earlier," he muttered. "She had red hair, and I fumbled the ball."
Bradley chuckled. "You know what your problem is, right? You're too nice. Sugar met me when I was an absolute fuckboy, and she fell hard."
"I've been having a decade long lapse of judgement," she replied, and Bradley kissed her neck. "Don't listen to him, Bob. Girls love nice guys."
But Bob knew they didn't. Even the woman from the bookstore dodged him after approximately five minutes of flirting. If you could even call that flirting. He finished his ginger ale, and said, "We need to go. It's almost time for D&D. I'll drive."
Mickey nodded and said, "I'm ready." He could probably tell Bob had reached his limit with this conversation. His friend may be an extrovert to the extreme, but he was good at recognizing when Bob needed a break.
Jessica nodded as well and patted him on the chest before she pranced off into Jake's open arms. They shared the most adorable looking kisses before Jake straightened out her glasses and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Have her home by midnight, Bob!" he called as he released her.
Bob nodded wishing there was someone besides the elderly woman who lived in the duplex next to him that cared if he was out past midnight or not. Even though he always looked forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons, he kind of wanted to head home and call it an early night. Nothing sounded as good as sending an email to Nat before reading his new book. But he would wait until later, and maybe he would even be in the mood to get his laptop out.
-----------------------
Anna went back to her studio apartment empty handed. Well, that wasn't quite true. She didn't buy any books, but she did splurge on a six dollar bottle of wine which would probably taste disgusting. She just hoped it would help her sleep through the night after reading some sad poetry and eating a piece of toast for dinner.
That guy from the bookstore was going to linger in her mind for a long time whether she wanted him to or not. She was more attracted to him after five minutes in his presence than she was to Kevin at any point in the past five years. And if she was going to start thinking about Kevin, she was probably going to cry.
The toast was good, but the wine was bad. And she did cry a little bit. She was never going to get attached to the idea of being in a relationship ever again. She was never going to have herself that level of intimacy just to have it ripped away. She wouldn't allow it. Relying on herself would have to be enough. Handsome strangers with muscular, veiny arms and cute glasses who made her laugh were not part of the plan. That's why she ducked behind the end cap after she left him a book she thought he might like. She watched him buy it for himself, which left her almost breathless. If she allowed herself to, she could picture him sitting in a coffee shop sipping some tea and reading that book.
"Enough," she whispered, vision a little sloppy from the wine. She opened up the website called PoetsAmongUs, read a bookmarked collection about how good it would feel to be loved completely, and passed out.
The realization that she was going to have to spend all of Sunday afternoon getting ready for the week was made slightly easier by the fact that she only had four hundred square feet of space to clean. And then she thought about the beautiful home she once had in New Jersey, and she had to finish the bottle of wine to help her get through her notes on The Great Gatsby.
She was still thinking about that hot guy with the glasses on Monday when she grabbed a donut from the teacher's lounge. Indulging in a little fantasy here and there about being loved and cared for wouldn't be so bad. And putting his face to it just made it even sexier. When she wasn't teaching, she let her mind wander to some possibilities that would never happen again. Pretty eyes, lean muscles, soft looking hair, pink cheeks. He probably had nice friends, too. He probably never cheated on anything in his life.
"Hey, Anna? Are you alright?"
She looked up from her bag of peanuts and realized she'd been so deep in thought, she wasn't paying attention to the lunch conversation. "I'm sorry," she replied, fighting the urge to groan. She wasn't very good at this stuff and should have probably just eaten lunch in her office like she did the past few days. The fact that it was Wednesday and she was still distracted was concerning to her.
"Don't apologize. You just seem lost in thought," said Jessica as she ate another perfect looking lunch.
"Do you want some chips and hummus? Bradley packed me too much food today," her other friend said. And of course he did, because he sounded like a damn dream.
Anna ate a few chips and sighed. "Have either of you ever had your heart smashed to bits?" She didn't really mean to say that out loud, but now that she had, she was met with an awkward silence that she wanted to run away from.
"Yeah," Advanced Calculus replied softly. "And I did it to myself."
"Not my heart as much as my hopes and dreams," Advanced Physics added. "But for me, I think that was much worse."
Now the silence that followed wasn't quite as painful, but Anna was still a little embarrassed. "Yeah. All of the above." She cleared her throat and tried to think of something else to talk about, but her mind was still on the bookstore. "Hey, why didn't you tell me that San Diego is full of hot guys? They are literally everywhere. I went window shopping in North Park and got sucked into a bookstore, and I bumped into a guy with glasses who smelled so nice."
"Ohhh, what did he look like?"
Anna sighed. "You know how you can just tell a guy is really strong even though he doesn't have bulging muscles?"
"Mmhmm."
"He was like that." Anna bit into her sandwich and chewed it slowly. "Pretty eyes, kind of the color of a lake. Sandy hair. Wire glasses. Soft spoken. He smelled like a cup of tea."
A few seconds later, she was snapped back from her drifting thoughts as Advanced Calculus asked, "Did you say this was at a bookstore in North Park?"
"Yes," Anna replied with a nod.
"Did you get his name?" Advanced Physics asked.
"No," she answered, still embarrassed over the fact that she hid from him.
And then she thought she was going to get whiplash again.
"Was he about six feet tall?"
"Was he slim but not skinny?"
"Did he blush when he smiled?"
"Will you please come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"
--------------------------
Bradley is so proud of the fact that Sugar fell for him when they were in college. Beer Boy just gets better with age. This little Bob and Anna meet cute might spell disaster when they figure it all out! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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#bob floyd x oc#robert bob floyd x oc#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob floyd imagine#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd x oc#bob floyd fic#bob floyd fanfiction#robert floyd fic#robert floyd#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#covering the classics
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You remind me of the babe (chapter 1/?)
I can explain.
....No I can’t.
Listen, just read this and pretend that you didn’t see it.
TW: Verbal parental abuse
/./././././././././././././././././././././
My hands shook as I locked my bedroom door behind me, my mother’s still screaming voice echoing across the house. She had been doing this for two hours now; two hours of endless berating, and insults. I couldn’t handle anymore of it.
“LET ME IN!” I winced as she screeched through the thin wood of my door.
My cries caught in my throat, causing me to hiccup and sob. “N-n-no. I-I need a m-minute.”
“You don’t get to walk away from me! I’m not finished! You’re acting like a spoiled child-” Her tone grated against my skin, making me want to scratch, to pull my hair and scream back. Before I could think about what I was doing, I stumbled away from the door and into my closet, slamming it shut behind me. Within moments I was on the floor, clutching my chest and sobbing. I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t stand to live like this.
“You’re such a fucking child! Twenty years old and you can’t even take care of yourself! Do you even think?!”
Her earlier words echo in my mind, still ripping into me. My own mother didn’t think I was capable.
“Some of us have to go to work and pay the bills! The least you could do is try and help out, but no, you don’t care to do anything unless it’s fun for you!” All of this just because I had forgotten to take out the trash. Was I really so selfish for forgetting something so small?
“You were supposed to be in college by now, and instead you’re wasting your life! You want to be a child?! Fine! I’ll take everything away from you, and you won’t be able to leave! I’ll treat you like one!” She thought I was a failure, and to be fair, I probably was one.
My chest ached as I struggled for breath, the memories of everything she had said overwhelming me. I cried out without thinking, my voice hitching as I rocked back and forth. “I-I wish I c-could just disappear! Just get me out of here! Anyone, please!”
My voice faded, and I was left in silence. There was no one to hear my cries, no one to comfort me. I was totally, and dreadfully alone. It was stupid of me to give in and let myself break like this-
I froze in place as I heard a tiny, high pitched giggle above me. I blinked and looked up, squinting in the darkness. “H-hello?”
Another giggle, this one in front of me. My breath froze in my lungs as I reached up and tried to shakily turn on the light. No matter how hard I searched, I couldn’t seem to find it.
The giggling grew louder as I stood, forcing open the closet door before stumbling toward the light switch. The light flickered on for a moment before the light bulb sputtered out with a loud POP!
I screamed and ducked my head to avoid any falling glass shards. Ok, fuck this. The stress was finally making me crack. I shook myself and tried to open the door. “Mom? Mom, I’m sorry, but I-I need help-”
The door knob didn’t move as I yanked it side to side. The giggling was growling steadily louder around me as I struggled to keep my breathing steady. “M-mom-”
I screeched as I felt something latch onto my leg in the darkness. The laughter exploded into cackles as I felt what seemed like claws dig into my legs and start to drag me down.
“STOP IT! STOP! HELP!” I had lost it. Was this some kind of nightmare?!
“What do you think we’re doing?” A voice like broken crystal crooned in my ear as more tiny claws dug into my shoulders and sides, lifting me off the ground.
I strained to get out of their grasps, covering my face as I began to hyperventilate. This was a nightmare, it was all just a nightmare. I had fallen asleep inside the closet, I was going to wake up. I needed to wake up, RIGHT NOW!
“That’s quite enough. You can let her go now.” I gasped as all of the hands dropped me, and I smacked into the ground with a harsh thud. I jolted up, kicking at the tiny creatures that were scurrying away from me.
“That’s the last time I send them to retrieve something so important.” I froze as a shadow fell over me. “Are you quite alright? They didn’t smack your pretty little head off anything, did they?”
I blinked and slowly forced my eyes upward. The man standing over me was… I couldn’t decide if he was enchanting, or insane. The first thing I saw were his riding boots, shined so perfectly I could see my own terrified expression in them. Then a pair of light gray dress pants, and a black corset vest over what looked like a Victorian dress shirt. The entire outfit seemed to glimmer slightly, as if the wearer had been dipped in a mix of shellac and glitter. All of that paled in comparison to his actual face. His eyes practically glowed, one a radiant emerald green, the other a honeyed earthen brown. His skin was pale, and his face was chiseled like a marble statue. When he spoke, his mouth was overfilled with fangs that grew in every direction, and long, warped ears stuck out from his golden hair, which emulated both a spider plant and a cartoon cigar that had exploded. My heart sputtered for a beat, but it wasn’t out of fear.
My mouth opened before I could think about what I was about to say. “If I’m dreaming, I’ve got some issues to work out with my subconscious.”
He snorted before offering me a hand. I flinched back on instinct, lowering my head.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He raised an eyebrow and looked back at his hand expectantly.
I paused before slowly taking it and standing, glancing around. I was in what looked like a stone throne room. The walls were crafted with what looked like giant, uneven bricks. We stood on uneven, cracked tiles, and a deep fire pit was set in the floor about a dozen feet away.. The walls were covered in uneven shelves, and large, colorful banners. For a throne room, it was rather… unfinished.
“What do you think, Emily?” I froze as he spoke just behind my ear.
I turned, nearly tripping on an uneven tile as I felt my eyes widen. “How do you know my name-no, stupid question. It’s- it’s fine.” I took another step back, trying to get space between us. “It’s lovely, really. Now, I… I hate to be rude, but I really must leave. Which exit do I take to wake up?”
My stomach dropped as he smirked down at me. “Leave? Wake up? Dear girl, you aren’t making any sense. You did ask to be taken away, didn’t you?”
My desperate words from before echoed in my mind. “I- well, yes, but I- this is just a dream, this isn’t real-”
“Is that so?” I took another step back as he walked closer to me, flinching yet again as he grabbed my arm. He lifted his free hand to reveal a crystal ball. He pressed it into my hand, and I winced as it warped against my skin. When I looked down, I was holding a white rose, it’s thorns digging into my palm. It’s perfume was overwhelming, and I grimaced as he guided my hand closer to my face. “Tell me, does this seem like something you would dream of? Something so vivid, so life like?”
I dropped it, shaking my head and raking my hands through my hair. “I- That’s not- I don’t- stop!” I couldn’t handle this. This couldn’t be real, but he was right. Everything around me was so unwillingly real.
“No. You asked to be taken, so I took you. It will be easier for you to calm down if you accept that.”
“Who are you?!” My panic began to sour in my stomach as I stared at him. “What kind of sick joke is this?”
He smiled again. “You don’t know? Has it been so long since you thought of me last?” He bowed at the waist. “The dreadful goblin king, Jareth, at your service.”
I felt like I had been shot point blank. So many childhood fairytales, so many daydreams, so many days out in the woods with imaginary friends came rushing back all at once. This couldn’t be real. The goblin king was the antagonist of so many stories I had made up when I was younger. He was an evil, possessive, manipulative bastard that was obsessed with control.
And, now apparently, he had kidnapped me, and taken me hostage.
He stood straight and stepped closer to me. “Why so shocked? Do you not recall the many times I offered to help you? To take you away? All I asked was that you gave up your old life and became mine. Now, you have finally seen reason-”
My shock faded as I stared at him. With every word, I felt something molten hot begin to grow inside me. It didn’t matter if this was a dream; the audacity of any character, any creature to think that they had any right to steal me, was disgusting. I decided to do the only thing that seemed logical in the moment.
I reeled back, and sank my fist into his smug, glittering face.
#self insert#this might be the first written thing I've posted on here and i'm pissed about it#we are going to pretend i'm not anxious about posting this#sketch scribbles#ship: babe with the power
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Days of Our Superhero Lives
Marvel style Telenovela again? R76valentines Gift. This one actually has a hint of story, I think? And a bit of hinting at backstory and angst? Waifu agrees that I do overthink and over-plan the things I write?
This Is Not
The first package just arrives – no one is sure how – at the base in Gibraltar and sits leisurely on the table in the common area, just by the arcade machines. It is cardboard brown, flat and square. Tracer finds it.
What she digs out from the packing paper is flowy, has curves and, very obviously, too little cloth went into making it. As soon as she tries to find where the thing has its up and down, another her pops into existence and squeals.
“I remember this!” Tracer announces and starts whispering into other Lena’s ear.
“No way!”
“Yes way!”
Then the Wonder Boy accosts them and snags it. He mutters about needing something like this and disappears with haste. Half an hour later there is a bloodcurdling scream of terror and Jack runs into the common room almost tripping on the carpet.
“Keep this shit to your own fucking bedroom!”
Four Tracers exchange knowing looks.
“Listen, girls, it gets only better,” one of them adds in a stage whisper. Jack freezes and eyes them with distrust clear on his face.
*
The second package arrives via a ship and a very stressed looking tentacle thing. Jack groans when he is handed (tentacled?) a pad to sign off on the delivery because it refuses to let Lena do just that.
“What the fuck is this, some galactic UPS?” He comments while judging the package.
“Actually, it says right on the side,” Tracer points to the wriggling symbols. “Pan-Dimensional Universal Deliveries.”
“How can you read that?” Jack stares at her as the ship zips off into a portal.
“Easy, Jackie-boy. I have ten years on you,” Lena multiplies and directs herself to grab the box and bring it inside. “I can’t wait to see what’s in it,” she giggles, giving him a decidedly pointed look. Jack can feel the growing dread settling gently in his stomach.
But, to his relief, there is a see-through container inside with something that looks like a cake unicorn barfed on and a note in the wriggly script attached. Tracer snatches it, her eyes go big, and she hastily turns singular, except for Lena that just happens to enter the room with Emily.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing! Looking good, Em,” future Tracer changes the subject quickly. The cake is perfect anyway, they all decide after a slice (even Ana and Angela), and Jack can’t be bothered with thinking who sent it – even if he does have an inkling that borders on certainty.
But the container is resting on something in the box and he picks up that thing. At the initial inspection, it looks like several scraps of fabric thrown haphazardly together. Gabriel almost chokes on his tea.
“What the fuck? It was yours?”
“What?” Jack looks at the thing again and then drops it like it burns when the realization dawns on him. “No! Shit! No! Never seen it before! Someone sent it!”
“But it was addressed to you, Jackie-boy,” future Tracer gleefully points out.
“And the fit was perfect,” Wonder Boy adds with a big self-satisfied grin on his fucking face while snuggling closer to Gabriel. God, Jack groans, he was seriously an asshole at that age. “Someone has a secret admirer, old fart. What?” The blonde rolls his eyes when Gabriel elbows him. “I’m stating the obvious.”
“You can eat the rest of it,” Jack decides that he has had enough and goes out for a smoke. It is one thing, being stalked by a villain from another dimension, but have him send something like that… that he remembers the Wonder Boy in…
“Hey,” future Lena joins him and pats his shoulder reassuringly. “It ain’t all that bad, you know, Jackie-boy?”
“He’s going to break my heart all over again, isn’t he?” He doesn’t look at her and throws the cigarette down, then stomps on it.
“You know I can’t talk about that. Besides, Jackie-boy, you blink, and the future is different,” somehow she looks tired. “But how bad could it really be?” Jack is about to answer her that yes, it could be very fucking bad, but Meka Girl leans out of the window above them.
“Abeoji? The lingerie, do they make it for girls too?” Jack decides that he desperately needs a drink.
*
The third package is the first one that looks like a proper gift – dark wrapping paper, silver bow and a little handwritten note. What is unnerving is the fact that it waits for him on his own bed. Jack picks up the note, thankfully written in English, not that other crawling nonsense. ‘Noticed you would need a new one.’
Right. If it’s the ‘sexy lingerie’ again, the next time he sees Reaper he’s going to force the damn thing down his fucking throat.
But to his surprise, Jack unwraps a jacket, crisp and new, almost identical to the one he usually wears as a part of his costume. The leather is softer, there are few changes to the measurements, and, all in all, it is comfortable. More importantly, it does not need to be stitched together again like the one resting on the chair by the window.
It is a thoughtful gift and Jack smiles for a moment.
*
A month down the line comes the usual revelation that Talon triple-crossed everybody, even themselves, and Reaper turns into a tentative ally for the time being. Jack can’t understand why would anyone collaborate with Talon, they do that every time. Every. Fucking. Time.
“Hail Talon!” The goon jumps at them but Reaper just swats him away.
“I swear, it’s like they get stupider,” the villain sighs annoyed.
“You could have spent five minutes reading their Omnipedia page,” Jack rolls his eyes behind the mask. “They have a big banner you can’t delete that literally says ‘Advice to budding villains: don’t ally with Talon, they will turn on you’.”
“Darling, it isn’t the first time they’ve tried it. They just get infinitely worse at it each time.” Jack stops dumbstruck in his tracks.
“How do they get worse at it, they have your gate generators?”
“I don’t need them.” Reaper shrugs. “And just about now the problem should solve itself.” Right on cue, the explosion shakes the ground and flattens Talon base in an outstanding show of fireworks that changes the evening sky into a blaze of multicolored swaths. “Now, darling, what about a kiss?”
“You planned it,” Jack points an accusatory finger at Reaper just as Meka passes them by laughing manically with Frog clinging to the top of the pink mech blasting victory music, all while chasing some poor Talon footsoldiers running for their lives.
“Might have.” He doesn’t have to imagine the damn smirk hiding behind that ugly mask because Reaper takes it off and leans closer.
“No. You are impossible!” Jack tries to push him away but somehow his palms just happen to linger on the other man’s chest and he does not step back when taloned fingers release the latch of his mask. “Seriously, this is little too much.”
“Hush, darling, I’m courting you,” Reaper bites lightly on his ear.
“You don’t announce you’re courting someone, and this,” Jack whimpers because it feels like electricity shooting all the way down his spine, “this is not courting, this is molesting and stalking.”
“You can tell me to stop anytime you want, darling,” Jack bites on his lip when hands move over his back.
“And you will stop?”
“Of course,” Reaper sounds a little put off by the suggestion but then a lick of satisfaction creeps into his voice. Smug bastard. “You’re wearing it.”
“It’s nice,” Jack admits with a bit of reluctance. “In comparison to that other thing,” he adds, moving his head to the side, just so it feels natural for Reaper to kiss him here and now. It’s warm, sweet and a little scratchy. Comfortable. Until he notices where one hand on his back traveled in the meantime and, on top of it all, squeezed. “What the…?”
Reaper smirks at him and disappears before Jack can tell him what does he exactly think about that particular stunt, so he just turns on his heel and comes face to face with Gabriel.
Gabriel that wears an interesting expression – a mix of bewilderment, disgust and something else Jack definitely won’t dwell on.
“Did he… cop a feel?”
“Oh, great, now you know how I feel about every fucking day,” Jack glances at the Wonder Boy, wearing that fucking blue coat of his, as he tries to shy away from Angela when she attempts to swab at the cut on his cheek. Goddammit, he was such a little shit dweeb at that age.
“Fair point,” Gabriel looks even more uncomfortable now, maybe even guilty, his eyes darting between the two of them. “Listen…”
“This isn’t a good time, Gabe,” Jack steps past him, shouldering his rifle.
“And when will be a good time?”
“Probably never.” Gabriel wants to add something but resigns. “Go take care of the drama queen.”
*
When he gets back (on his own) to the Gibraltar base, there is a single flower resting on his bed. Jack sighs and picks it up. It smells deep, like the night, and he can see the sparkling rainbow in the sky when he closes his eyes.
“Seriously, I’m not a woman.”
“I know, darling,” Reaper materializes behind him, hands sneaking around him and fingers lacing on his stomach, ”but you are my mate and I’m courting you.”
“So, no courting, no gifts?”
“You are deserving of gifts no matter what,” Reaper whispers against his neck and Jack can tell the traitorous blush crawls up his face, “and I’m going to make up for all of those you never got but should have.”
“It’s not…” Jack is at a loss what to say because what can you tell a fucking villain that seems to be obsessed with you, not that he is complaining too much, but still, it is kind of unsettling, even if nice. “Stay the night,” Jack swears that with the way his cheeks and neck burn he must be positively red. “I mean, just sleep.”
“I know, darling,” he feels the smile against his shoulder. This whole thing might not be as bad as it seems.
#sometimes i write#r76valentines#r76#reaper76#superhero!au#what is this even#i'm still having fuuuuuuun#day2
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