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stray-cattt · 1 day ago

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i'd forgotten what it feels like to show someone my heart

An Arcane (League of Legends) fanfic. If you'd rather read it on A03, here's the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61482697

Summary: This is set after/around season 1 episode 6 of Arcane. This was specifically written for my friend :3

Basically Jayce & Viktor have a small miscommunication in plans but don't worry it turns out well :D

Apologies if they're a bit out of character I wrote this while jet lagged at 2:35 AM

Song title is from the song "now the rain comes" by mage tears, I highly recommend their music it's very swag and cool

Content/Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, miscommunication, chronic illness mentions, mentions of self destructive behaviors

Viktor rubs his eyes tiredly, lately his mind has been in a fog, unable to think straight. He’d told Jayce that he’d be better about taking breaks but so far he hadn’t made any good of that promise. Trying to refocus he turns his attention back to the chalkboard full of notes and equations. Letting out a sigh he goes back to trying to fix his work, not noticing the paper that had been slid under the door of the lab. Hours tick by as Viktor works relentlessly on the hexcore trying to understand why the organic matter it can grow and reproduce in mere seconds won’t last longer ten seconds before wilting and decomposing to ash.

Meanwhile Jayce is pacing around his room biting his nails as his mind runs rampant. It has been hours since he had slipped that note under the lab door for Viktor asking him to meet him in his room at 9, he was planning on finally confessing his feelings for him as he felt that had become too much to keep inside any longer. His eyes flick to the clock on his wall, the seconds ticking along, the hour hand inching closer and closer to the 9. Jayce almost goes down to the lab himself just to see if Viktor was even there but he shakes that thought out of his head. Surely he would take a break before 9 and see his note. Right? With no nails left to chew he soon turns to picking his lip as he feels his nerves bouncing around inside him.

9 o’clock has come and gone with no sign of his lab partner. Tears brim Jayce’s eyes as he looks at his clock that now reads 10:33, cursing under his breath he glances at the flowers he had gotten for Viktor and tosses them in the garbage. His eyes seem stuck on the flowers in the bin as he assumes that Viktor had stood him up and ignored his note. His tears struck the petals of the flowers below him as he felt a crushing weight on his chest begin to form. Shaking his head he wiped his face on his sleeve and tore his eyes away from the pitiful sight.

Jayce slowly began undressing himself, not bothering to put his dirty clothes in the hamper but instead left them sprawled out on the floor disorderly. After dressing in his nightwear he sluggishly made his way to his bathroom attached to his room. He stared at his face in the mirror, his eyes red and puffy, the bags under his eyes evidently clear, the exhaustion was painted all over his face. Jayce splashed warm water on his face hoping it would help him feel a little better. Too emotionally drained to try and do any of his nightly routine he just crawls into his bed, one that felt too big for how small he was feeling but too small for all of the emotions he held within himself.

Jayce wakes up to light knocking at his door, drowsy and startled he climbs out of bed and walks over to the door, the cold floor sending goosebumps down his arms causing him to shiver. Not bothering to try and fix his bed head he opens the door to reveal Viktor standing in front of him, almost looking as shitty as he did, his eye bags more prominent than Jayce’s and his face pale. Jayce felt his heart flop in his chest as his heart was unsure if he was feeling excited or dreadful, but upon seeing his note in Viktors hand his anxiety spikes. There is an awkward beat of silence before Viktor speaks up.

“So… are you going to let me in?” He tilts his head slightly, awkwardly shuffling his crutch into a more comfortable position. Jayce blinks confusedly but opens the door further and moves out of the way regardless. He tries not to feel horribly embarrassed about the state of his room but fails as he looks at the wall trying not to critique himself over his mess. Viktor looks around his room and raises his eyebrow slightly not having expected Jayce to be the messy type but shrugs it off and sits down on Jayce’s bed.

“Why exactly am I here?” Viktor asks, leaning his crutch against Jayce’s bed.

“What do you mean?” Jayce questions, confusion clear on his face.

“What do you mean, ‘what do you mean?’ Your note said to be here at 9 and it says 9 o’clock right there, or can you not read analog clocks?” Viktor says, pointing to Jayce’s clock on the wall. Jayce scrunches up his face as his mind tries to understand why Viktor is in his room at 9 in the morning.

“Okay clearly you are not the brightest crayon in the box in the morning.” Viktor sasses, rolling his eyes. “Your note clearly said 9 o’clock and that’s what time it is.”

Finally Jayce understands, the pieces all fitting into place.

“I meant 9 PM, not 9 in the morning. I thought that would’ve made sense because I slid it under the door just a few hours before 9.” Jayce responds.

“The fuck is PM?” Viktor asks, looking at Jayce as if he had grown another head. The other simply pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“Post meridiem, you know, after 12?” He retorts, not understanding why Viktor was not understanding.

“Fuck, did you mean at 21 hours?” Viktor asks, trying to wrap his mind around what had happened along the line of communication.

“Oh my god you use military time.” Jayce mutters under his breath as he puts his head in his hands, unsure if he was about to start bursting out in laughter or in tears. “Yes I meant 21 hours.” He nods letting out a sigh as he walks over and takes a seat next to Viktor on his bed.

“I don’t know why you didn’t just put 21 hours on your note otherwise I would not have woken the sleeping beauty.” Viktor shakes his head, laughing a bit to ease the tension.

“What, you think I’m beautiful?” Jayce jokes, joining in Viktors laughter leaning his head on the other man's shoulder.

“Yes.” Viktor answers softly, assuming Jayce wouldn’t hear since he was laughing. However Viktor assumes incorrectly, something he would know immediately had he looked up at Jayce’s now flushed face.

“You do?” Jayce asks somberly, sitting up and looking at Viktor. Blushing, Viktor looks away towards the floor and attempts to change the subject.

“You never answered my question, you know. Why did you invite me here? Seems a bit late for a meeting about the hexcore, also a slightly odd location as well.” He asks, putting the note in his pocket and pulling out his small gear to fidget with in his hands instead so as to not ruin the paper with his sweaty hands. A bit startled at the abrupt change of subject Jayce clears his throat and makes a short glance at the trash can before swallowing his fears.

“I… uh,” He takes a deep breath and stares at the dresser in front of him trying to ground himself on something. “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to be partners… Romantic partners, that is, not just lab partners, since we’re already partners in that aspect, but you know that already obviously. I mean like boyfriends.” He rambles nervously and begins to pick at the skin around his nails. Viktors eyes widen suddenly, his mouth opening momentarily before shutting once more as he tries to process the words Jayce had said.

“You want to be boyfriends?” He asks slowly, looking over at Jayce, not missing how his hands were trembling. Feeling as though his vocal chords were compressed Jayce nodded in confirmation to Viktors question. Seeing this Viktor struggles and fails to hold back a smile.

“Took you long enough.” He says, playfully shoving Jayce in the shoulder to try and get him out of whatever anxious thoughts were taking hold of him. Jayce looks at Viktor in shock, blinking a few times.

“So wait, is that a yes?” He asks, his eyes looking into Viktors with disbelief.

“Are you dense? Of course it’s a yes. Partners in and outside of the lab.” He says giving Jayce a reassuring smile. To this Jayce smiles brighter than that day they floated in the lab together and he hugs Viktor tightly.

“Careful, you’ll squeeze me to death. You wouldn’t want to kill your partner two seconds after becoming official now would you?” He laughs hugging Jayce back. Jayce shakes his head and lowers the pressure of the hug.

“I’m sorry about the confusion surrounding the time.” Jayce mumbles feeling a bit embarrassed for working himself up so much the night before.

“It’s okay, now you know for next time whenever you ask me out on a date.” He smiles. Jayce nuzzles into his chest playfully before pulling away from the hug and looking into Viktors eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” Jayce asks, or more accurately blurts out without thinking.

“Wow, eager are we? We haven’t even been dating for five minutes and you already want to kiss me.” Viktor chuckles.

“Oh,” Jayce mumbles a bit dejectedly, looking at the floor like a sad puppy. Seeing that Jayce did not understand his sarcasm Viktor sighs slightly and puts his hand under his partner's chin, moving his head to look at him. Slowly and a bit nervously Viktor pulls Jayce in for a tender kiss, the air electric around them as they melt into each other wondering why they hadn’t done it sooner. Seconds feel like hours before they pull apart from each other.

“Can you do that again?” Jayce asks. Viktor smiles and briefly imagines that if Jayce had a tail it would be wagging quite fast.

“Of course we can. I would say we have all the time in the world for that but I fear my time may be shorter than most if we can’t figure out the hexcore.” Viktor smiles bitter-sweetly.

“We’ll get right back to that as soon as I kiss you again.” Jayce says brushing Viktors hair out of his face before lightly pulling Viktor in for another kiss with his hand on the back of his neck.

#arcane #arcane fanfic #league of legends fanfic #victor arcane #jayce arcane #viktor and jayce are lovers #hurt/comfort #miscommunications #anxiety #love confessions #mentions of self destructive behaviors #chronic illness #crying #hugs and kisses #Jayce is def autistic #Viktor too honestly

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sainthelgas · 2 months ago

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Ive seen a lotta people naming people who they hlame for the election. So I thought id toss my hat in the ring

I blame Joe biden for being too much of an egotistical shitbrain to know when it was time to stand down

I blame people who voted third party gor thinking their shitty little party could ever realistically win an election. Its a game of pretend we have to keep up for their sake but lets all be honest. Jill Stein was never gonna win. Theres a better chance of donald trumo and kamala hariss both dying in a firey explosion

I blame Richard Nixon. Obviously. Reagen only became president because of him so oh yeah

I blame Reagen. Donald Trump is riding on his dick so hard. He wishes he could skin the man and walk around in it.

I blame the shithole state of florida in entirety. When i become president in 2027 after donald trump gets run over after his voters realise he isn't in fact gonna make the economy better instantly by being president ill nuke that little dick off the united states. Itll be so much more aestheticslly pleasing...

I blame england for sending us over here in the first place. I hope if donald trump becomes president he deports me and my lot back to ireland.

I blame canada as well. Specifically prkme minister Justin Trudeau. He knows what he did. Back in the summer of 2007...

I blame video essay youtubers whos "video essays" are actually like half lets play and half additional dialogue. Video essay is a very vague term but id say for it to be an essay you would ahve to write a script first. Fucking Moron.

I blame youtubers in general actually. Anyone with over a hundred thousand subscribers. Every single youtuber says they goted kamala but actually voted trump because theyre billioanires and all they care about is that tax break. Yes event the one you're thinking of. Them too.

I blame the writers of hey arnold: the jungle movie for reviving arnolds stupid parents with bad designs. People loves it cause they really wanted it to exist after it originally vot cancelled. But like as a movie it kinda sucks. I hate what they do with helgas character

I hate that I named this blog after helga from hey arnold. Yeah my names not helga btw. I considered ysing my real name but I dont wanna. So i will conti us to refer to myself as helga for simplicites sake.

I hate that we dont know. If i wake up tomorrow and kamala won somehow ill delete this post and if you mention it I will DENY DENY DENY. Im mostly just accepting s trump victory so in the case of her still winning somehow ill have a bice surprise in the morning.

I blame Mike Pence. Ultimate conservative pundit/loser. He couldnt even go throigh with a full on conspiracy so he pussied out. He was tbere for the rull radicalization of the conervative party a d he tugges his collar and went "yikes! I dunno boyt this one you guys..."

I blame my conservative (ex)coworkers. Even the hot one with green hair who played blink 182 alingside tom macdonald over the speaker. I was nothing but nice to her despite her being anything but to me.

I blame the character designers for Dandadan for not letting the grandma look like a gilf. That was literally the main reason I stopped watching it.

I blame the people of florida itself. Not just the state the people specifically. Of course the first time I actually vote it doesnt mean shit. Of course florida wasnt gonna flip blue who was I kidding. Florida was supposed to be a swing state but then he literally moved here sk that kinda went bust. Is that all it takes? Him moving here and spending his stupid donation momey on our economy? Hes like the ultimate tourist hes from new york of all places but floridians are sucking on him like calfs sucking on a teet.

I blame mr beast for not turning north carolina blue. He basically owns that state (which is also a shithole) he couldve turned it blue but he didnt.

I blame the disgusting rotting people of the united states. We can take comfort in the knowledge that every agaony we suffer we inflict it four times upon someone somewhere in the middle east. So you can see that on twitter and think "at least im not that guy".

I blame arizona nevada and all the other shithole states who try to leach onto relevance by being a swing state. Why are they deciding the election and not ME?!

I blame Jude. Hes in alabama and its red so I can buy that. Its his fault. I checked his discord and hes playing fucking huitar hero. How could you possibly play guitar hero at a time like this?!

And lastly. Of course I blame Donald trump. Ill give him this, he was born to be president. Loud annoying and overly confident. Kinda like a Gjinka of the united states itself. People will treat him as an oddity president for one reason or another but honestly hes not that much worse then nixon. Have you heard the nixon tapes? Half that shit is worse then most of what donald trump tweets. He just had the sense to not let other people know how genuinely delauded he was. A slow de-evolution going from jfk to nixon to trump. As people became more and more aware of how corrupt the president could be. My point here isnt to be like "oh trump aint gonna be that bad" cause he will be. Both on a moral and like political level. I think a swing toward conservatism has been kinda happening since 2020, even with joe biden as president we lost roe v wade and kinda saw him sit around like a corpse for four years. Which he was great at fyi. Really the role he was born to play. You could even forget he was there. Sorry this is supposed to be donald trump hate but its just so played out. Whats left to say? Hes imcompetent. He literally ran on building a wall and left office with the wall unfinished. The single most consistant thing about all politicians, is their ability to fail to keep their promises. If he couldnt even build one stupid wall how is he gonna do half the shit they out in plan 2025? Get ready for four years of failed promises and conservatives slowly having to realise donald trump isnt gonna make the money problem any better.

#from st. helga #politics talk #politics tw #this is unserious so dont expect real political analysis

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justdissimp · 4 years ago

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Only for him

Character(s): Dream (Clay)

Warnings: f!reader, explicit sexual themes, unprotected sex, virgin kink, corruption kink?

(I´m sorry please tell me if i forgot something! I´m very bad at giving CW)

Word count: 1.1 k

A/N: this has the potential to be extended in the future! might do that tbh idk tho. no promises

I just know Dream would get so turned on by the thought of you being a virgin. Being all pure and innocent, all for him to ruin. Only for him. He´d go gentle at first kissing you softly and carefully running his hands up and down your sides, occasionally going down to rub your thighs. Drinking in your flushed expression, cheeks red with embarrassment from lying bare under him.

He´d start kissing your neck and gently nipping at your sensitive skin, soft gasps and pants leaving your swollen lips. But when he finally started caressing your inner thighs, only moving towards your burning core at an agonizing pace, you start squirming under him. The anticipation of finally feeling his hands on you getting too much, a soft whine slipping past your lips.

Embarressed you brought your hand up to your mouth to stop another sound from escaping. He´d just smiled at you, retreating one hand from your thigh to pull yours away from your mouth. You shaked your head at him.

"´S embarrassing", you tried to reason.

He only shook his head in response, telling you what you already knew - he wanted to hear you. Putting his hand back on your thigh the torture started again, his hands never lingering in one spot, only grazing over your skin, making goosebumps run up and down your spine. It seemed like he was scared to touch you. As if you were made of porcelain, at risk to break if he touched you any more than this.

Truth be told: he couldn´t wait to ruin you. Make you sob and scream his name at the top of your lungs. All he wanted was to grab your hips and rut into you, leaving your legs shaking, unable to walk tomorrow. The fact that nobody had ever touched you before, nobody had ever seen you like this, him being your first almost made him throw all common sense he had out the window and fuck you into oblivion.

Almost.

He´d never want to hurt you, which was the reason he hadn´t actually touched you for 20 minutes already. He feared that as soon as he heard your first moan he´d snap and take you as you were.

"Please- ", he heard you whine his name, "I can take it, I promise! I can´t- You.. Please touch me Clay."

Groaning at your pleading, how your voice so angelic even when you were all needy and whiney. His resolve melting upon hearing your soft please for him. Finally comlplying he sunk a finger into you, groaning again as he felt your walls clench around him. Quickly inserting another digit, your heat enveloping him, he drew in a shaky breath and had to close his eyes to focus on not losing it right then and there.

You drew in a sharp breath when you felt his fingers reach a spot that felt different from the rest. Clay noticed and thrusted his fingers into it again. A cry escaping you as he entered a third finger, and directed them towards that spot again.

Whimperes now continuisely leaving your parted lips, you instictively raised your hand to stop the noises again. But before your hand could even reach your face Clay had gripped your wrist and pinned it next to your face. "Don´t. Hold. Them. In." He growled befor kissing you again, his fingers never stopping in their thrusts, the palm now grinding into your clit.

You moaned into the kiss and Clay bit your lip in response to it. Sliding his tongue in your mouth he instantly overpowered you, not that you minded. Pulling apart gasping for air you looked at him, pupils blown wide, puffy and bruised lips slightly parted as an almost pornographic moan left them. Your back lifted off the bed as you pushed your hips further into his hand.

"Clay, I- ", interruping yourself with a whine when he suddenly pulled his hand away from you, you stared up at him, brows furrowed. "What? Why- ", shooshing you he leaned into your neck, raspy voice next to your ear mumbeling, "If you´re gonna cum tonight it´s not gonna be on my fingers. At least not the first one." You shuddered, his quiet voice sending another wave of heat straight in between your legs.

After hearing his belt clink as it fell to the floor you felt the bed dipp again when he once more kneeled above you. His hands rubbed up and down your thighs, this time applying more pressure to the soft flesh he leaned down towards your neck again. Kissing your collarbone and neck he pumped himself a few times, smearing the precum before lining up with you. Lifting his face from your neck to lock eyes with you as he asked for permission again. You nodded but he insisted “No, I need to hear you say it.”

You shakily replied “Please, Clay please fuck me. I´m all yours. I´ll take it.” He groaned at your choice of words finally sliding into you. You hissed at the light sting, despite the preparation. Your hands clenching around the sheets as you pulled your lower teeth between your teeth.

He stayed still, giving you a chance to adjust only starting with small thrusts after you gave him a nod. Hunching over he buried his face in your neck once more, leaving several marks as he went. But when you lifted your hands to his shoulders digging your nails into his shoulders and telling him to “go faster”, “more” his brain instantly fogged up and his thrusts started to become deeper and erradic.

Soon you felt the knot in your stomach tightening again, leaving red marks down Clay´s back as you cried out his name. His hips stuttered as he came inside you, he brought a hand between the two of you to press harsh circles into your clit. Your legs trembeling as your high finally approached, your walls clenching around Clay´s already softening cock. Pulling out of you he pressed a quick kiss to your lips before getting up to run a bath.

When he picked you up from the bed you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his sweaty scent. “What was that about ´at least not the first time´”, you asked with a grin spreading on your face. A small rumble emerged from his chest. “Next time princess. We wouln´t want to actually break during your first time, would we?”

You weren´t sure if that was supposed to be a promise or a threat.

A/N: this is my first time actually writing something and i- ouuuf it was so hard to write over 1k words so ill probably stick to shorter braindumps like technos for now (300-500 words)

Big shoutout to my bestie @008luna008 for proofreading!!! I wouldn´t say she stayed up til 1.40 for me but she kinda did? (It´s not like you would´ve actually gotten to bed earlier tho)

#mcyt #mcyt smut #mcytblr #dream #dream smut #dream smp #dream/reader #dream/reader smut #dream x reader #dream x reader smut #smut #mels red-hours

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glattandblade · 4 years ago

Note

hanahaki fic with any character?

Sure thing! Thank you for your request <3 I’ve never written Hanahaki before, so I hope I did it justice :D Thank you again!

By Author Blade <3

Title: Hanahaki (C!Schlatt x GN!Reader)

Summary: You’ve developed Hanahaki disease. And the cure seems out of reach.

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending!), lots of mentions of death, also lots of mentions of vomiting & coughing (related to flowers), cursing

Word Count: 1212

Recently, your illness has been getting worse.

What started as coughing up a few petals every couple of days has gradually grown into choking on full bouquets.

Your doctor had told you it was Hanahaki, the disease of unrequited love. Your face had paled at that. The only way to cure Hanahaki was to have your beloved return your feelings. And God knows that wasn’t going to happen, on account of your “beloved” being kind of a dick.

Schlatt’s a self centered, rude, annoying, fucking dick.

But all the same, you loved him.

It’s gross.

The flowers started forming when you began working for him. It was hard moving and starting a new life, but you found yourself very close to your boss- the President. He was kind to you… sometimes. Being his secretary, you had the power to fuck him over a bit, so he usually leaned on your good side.

That doesn’t mean you were free from his teasing and overall cockiness.

As the disease progressed, you started to wonder why you were in love with someone like him. Why go through all this pain for him? What’s the fucking point if nothing is going to come out of it? You’d be leaning over the toilet, choking on your third rose, wishing you could just Get. Over. Him.

But then he’d gently knock at the door, ask if you were okay, and your heart would squeeze. You’d quickly flush away the flowers, tell him you were fine, and hope to God that he didn’t see it as important enough to prod.

It worked for a while, but then it became a daily occurrence.

You’d have to slip away from your duties after a terrible coughing fit to go get it all out of your system in the bathroom. At first, Schlatt was angry that you’d leave your desk or skip out on meetings, but then he noticed the pattern. He never pushed you further than asking if you were alright through a closed door whenever he passed by and heard the coughing. He did feel like his secretary’s health was something he should know about, though. He just never knew how to approach you about it.

Caring would look vulnerable, and he’s got a fucking country to run. He was never good with feelings in the first place anyway, so he just stuck to the sidelines, making mental notes on your health for the day. Maybe one day you’d tell him and he wouldn’t have to deal with it. Or you’d die and he would know the answer.

What he didn’t know was that thoughts like those were what was killing you.

After a particularly hard day, you spent the whole night over the toilet. He had touched you. A light graze of the fingers, sure, but it was enough to send the flowers into overdrive. You called in the next day, hoping everyone would assume that you were just overworked and needed the day off, but Schlatt was more aware of the situation than that, to your dismay.

He had showed up at your house. You could feel the flowers building up your throat. You held them down as much as you could as he talked to you, but it was hard.

You could barely register what he was saying as you started to cough so hard that you fell to your knees. He reached out and caught you, but that just made it worse. You couldn’t hold them back anymore, and the flowers started to fly out, all over the floor and all over him.

He stared at them with curious concern. He held you in a gentle way he didn’t think possible, taking one of the flowers between his fingers.

Hanahaki.

Of course, he’s heard about it. Who hasn’t? The death rate for Hanahaki’s way too high.

The two of you moved to the bathroom where you finished your fit.

His voice was uncharacteristically quiet when he spoke, breaking the silence, “Who is it?” You almost didn’t hear him.

“It.. it doesn’t matter, Schlatt.” Your voice was hoarse, it hurt to talk. You could feel the flowers fighting to come back up as he got closer to you, sitting down on the floor next to you. You coughed hard before continuing, “I-I’ll be okay.”

“Well I really fuckin’ doubt that, sweetheart. You just threw up my dead Grandma’s bouquet.” Usually, that would make you laugh, at least a little, but you could feel the flowers pushing at your throat and squeezing your lungs from just how close he was to you.

“Just tell me, (Y/N). Maybe I can help.”

You smiled at him, though it was sad. Those words only made it worse. He didn’t realize that the kindness he was showing you was only feeding the flowers.

“You aren’t going to be… mad? Or laugh?” It felt silly, but you needed the reassurance right now.

“We’re not fucking 12, (Y/N).”

“Right.”

You cleared your throat, hoping to suck down any stray flowers so you could speak. Your brain found it hard to find the right words, so you just went with the shortest, simplest thing you could think of. Something he’d understand immediately and you wouldn't have to repeat yourself.

“I love you.”

He paused, then looked at you, eyes wide and mouth open a bit.

“You what?”

Okay, not the best reaction, but he didn’t seem mad, at least.

“Schlatt don’t make me repeat myself, my throat hurts as it is.” A tease, a joke. Lighthearted enough to distract yourself from the fact that if he doesn’t reciprocate, you’re dead.

“No, no. I get it. I’m sexy as fuck- I’m the president, for God’s sake. And any one knows that everyone and their mom wanted to fuck Obama-”

He rambled on for a bit like that, inflating his ego a little in the process. You stared at him blankly, waiting for him to finish to give you a proper answer.

“You’re my secretary, though! Isn’t that kind of weird? Actually it’s kind of hot-”

You rolled your eyes.

“But if people found out? My name would be smeared. Then again, you’re really pretty. Have I told you that? Oh fuck, maybe now isn’t the right time-”

“Schlatt?”

He turned to you, having looked away during his rant, “Yeah?”

“Are you going to kiss me? Or just ramble like an idiot?”

“I’m not an idiot. Maybe a fool, but I’m not an idiot.”

“So are you going to kiss-” And before you could finish, he leaned forward, cutting you off with a kiss.

And it was a damn good kiss at that, for this kiss was enough to seal that he did, in fact, give a shit about you. You felt a weight lift off your lungs, your throat cleared up, and for the first time in months, you felt happy.

His hands on your hips, your arms around his neck, the way he had to bend down to reach your lips and you had to push yourself up to reach his... It was uncomfortable, actually. You’re on the bathroom floor for Christ’s sake, but you wouldn’t trade this kiss for the world.

You were finally free of that wretched disease, and now you could kiss him whenever you wanted.

Masterlist

#thank you for your request!#authorblade #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #c!schlatt x reader #c!jschlatt x reader #dsmp #dsmp x reader #hanahaki #angst with a happy ending #death mention #vomiting mention #jschlatt dsmp #schlatt dsmp #attempt at humor #sometimes i think im funny tbh #enjoy!#thought to be unrequited love

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halorocks1214 · 3 years ago

Text

the law of vibration

Word Count: 6113

Summary: The Law of Vibration states that everything in the Universe moves, vibrates, and travels in circular patterns. The same principles of vibration in the physical world apply to our thoughts, feelings, desires, and wills in the Etheric world. Each sound, thing, and even thought has its own vibrational frequency, unique unto itself

im not entirely sure how accurate the avalanche is here but im going to blame google because i TRIED getting concrete information on how an avalanche sounds and looks like but essentially ended up with nothing outside a few details

also this series was a giant tag wall and i am very sorry for that. i recently edited the tags to be less beefy. nothing important was deleted, just unnecessary rambly ones

also also if it wasn't obvious this series is going to be updated slowly agsgsdfgsd (what gave that away i wonder). ill just leave this little blurb here as one last warning instead of being self-deprecating in the notes of every new one. i gotta be better about not being so harsh on myself, ya know? as always, i hope you enjoy! :D

cw for sad ending, character death, and natural disasters

"Have you heard the news? Little Lucille has a secret admirer."

Lucy rolled her eyes as she put her long, ginger locks into a ponytail at her desk, "It's hardly a secret when the guy keeps running into the doorframe whenever we're in the same room."

Chantelle squeezed her pillow closer to her chest, “C’mon Lucy, cut the guy some slack. It’s pretty adorable, all things considered.”

“Yeah, it’s not every day you get someone that is so infatuated with you that they act like a cartoon character!” Juniper laughed from the corner of the room where she was getting dressed behind a privacy cover, letting out a little growl like she was rolling her R’s, like one would when they were insinuating that something very adult was happening between two people.

Lucy stood up from her desk, refusing to look at her roommates, “Whatever, you two are ridiculous.”

Chantelle finally threw the pillow she was holding, but Lucy expertly dodged it in the process of falling into her own bunk. Chantelle scoffed, “Lucky.” Chantelle then proceeded to yawn as she fell backward to lie on her back and stare at the ceiling, “I don’t know about you, Luce, but if a rich somebody like that was giving me goo-goo eyes, I would be running and leaping into their arms before the new jet prototype could even break the sound barrier.”

Jeff Tracy, billionaire entrepreneur and First Man to set foot on Mars, acted like a silly goose just because she looked somewhat pretty.

“If anything, that should make you find this all stupider,” Lucy pointed out. “Guys like that always fall over themselves for trophy wives. I care way too much about myself to go down to that level.”

“Preach it, sister!” Juniper yelled, climbing the ladder on Lucy’s bed to get to the top bunk. “By the way, have the two of you heard from our new roommate yet? Shouldn’t they have shown up by now?”

Oh, right, that was happening tonight. They sent their last roommate off quietly with a nice dinner at her favorite restaurant. The pressures that came with rescuing civilians got to her, and she decided it was better to quit early than potentially risk lives. It was respectable, and no one judged her for it. Hell, Lucy might have even smacked her if she didn’t just go through with it because that was not a decision to be fifty-fifty on, especially not while active. She made sure to send pictures from her new job at a local mechanic’s shop occasionally, so they were all happy to see her joyful and well.

But that failed to explain who her replacement was. Swear to god, if they got put with some lazy slack off that was always late-

Light knocking came from their door, making them all sit up and stare at it. Then it slowly opened, and stepping inside was a woman with a duffel bag, her hair tied back at the top of her head in a short, frizzy ponytail. With reasonable assumption, that had to be their new roommate, showing up right on the dot. It was as if she personally heard Lucy gritching and appeared exactly then to make her shut right the hell up.

“Hello?” the newcomer said. “This is Room B509, right?”

“Yep!” Juniper immediately answered, moving so she could slightly hang off the edge of her bed. “I’m guessing that question means you’re our new roommate, yeah?”

The woman stepped inside and shut the door behind herself with one of her feet, “From what it sounds like, yes, I am.”

Lucy got up from her bed to walk over to properly meet the lady, “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Lucille.”

Lucy held out a hand for the woman to shake, to which the woman happily returned, “The pleasure’s all mine. I’m Valerie. Valerie Casey.”

“Ugh, you’re all so formal,” Chantelle groaned from her bed, turning over to sleep facing a direction away from them. “Stop caring about all that prim-and-proper horsecrap; we’re all gonna use the same shower anyway.”

Lucy rolled her eyes, giving Valerie an apologetic smile, “Sorry for my friend. That’s Chantelle. She gets cranky at this time of night.”

Chantelle grumbled, and it was just humorous enough to get Valerie to sigh fondly, “Don’t worry, I get it. I’m not all that chipper myself, right now. It’s no fun being uprooted randomly so the higher-ups can make last-minute adjustments to you and your roommates’ dorm.”

Ah, so that’s what this hullabaloo was about, “Yikes, that certainly sounds like no fun.”

“Hang on, did you say your name was Valerie Casey?” Chantelle had a lightbulb moment, interrupting their conversation and suddenly sitting up, very much not going to sleep. “No way, aren’t you besties with Jeff Tracy?”

Oh no.

Valerie cleared her throat, “‘Besties’ is a bit of a strong word, but yes. We are good friends.”

Chantelle smiled as if she figured out how to take over the world while Juniper placed her hands on her cheeks excitedly. “What perfect timing!” Juniper exclaimed, completely ignoring Lucy’s fervent headshakes telling her to knock it off. “We were just talking about him!”

Please no.

“Really?” Valerie questioned in a tone of voice that said she was challenging them to prove their words true.

Juniper giggled evilly, “You bet your bottom dollar we were! My name’s Juniper and your buddy pal friend amigo has got the biggest honking crush on Lucille over here!”

Uuuuuuugghhh.

However, Valerie seemed to be just as unenthused as Lucy was, “Ah, right. His little puppy-love moment he’s currently having.”

Lucy was caught off guard a little bit, “What do you mean by that exactly?”

“Oh, it’s nothing to do with you,” Valerie said honestly, walking over to the empty desk to get her stuff set up. “It’s nothing to do with him either, really, he’s a good man. It’s just that when you hear over and over again how he’s finally going to bite the bullet and finally approach her like a normal human being every day for two weeks straight, you go a little nuts.”

So Jeff was one of those types. Lucy wasn’t sure if that made the situation more relieving or more irritating.

“Did you catch that, Lucy?” Chantelle purred, now hanging off the edge like Juniper was previously. “Jeff’s a ‘good man.’ What’s stopping you from walking over to him right now and knocking him on his ass? Either physically or emotionally, but I won’t complain either way. Neither will he from the sound of it.”

Lucy made movements like she was going back to her bed, “Even if the man made a living off of rescuing orphaned kittens, that doesn’t mean I’ll magically want to-”

Someone knocking on their door interrupted them, making them pause and stare at it.

“Private Traile?” a voice came from outside. “Someone is requesting you speak with them over the phone.”

Valerie glanced over at her with sympathy, “Traile? As in Callahan Traile’s daughter?”

Who hadn’t heard of her father at this point? “Yep, and I’m guessing you’re already assuming who’s the one making the phone call by that alone, am I right?”

Juniper’s teasing gained an air of pain behind it as they all watched Lucy leave the room and shut the door, “Ouch. And tonight was going so well too.”

Valerie was about to receive what was hopefully the biggest tonal shift of her lifetime. Callahan Traile, while not one of the Founders of the GFD, did a lot to get it off the ground and be as big of a spectacle as it is today. It was no surprise the singular kid he had followed in his footsteps.

If only they realized it was less “following” and more “being walked on a leash.”

Once she was fully situated in a call booth that allowed maximum privacy, she took a deep breath as she stared at the phone. She felt her fingers strain as they bunched up her sleep pants between her knuckles, and it took everything in her power to not just rip the damn thing off the wall and pretend she was busy.

It would be worse if she ignored it, though, so with a lethargic exhale, she picked up the phone and dialed, “Hey Dad.”

For a moment, nothing came through the other side, and Lucy was about to sigh in relief and say tonight was just a false alarm, but then, “Lucille, I saw your recent simulation scores.”

Oh yay, straight to the point was the theme for tonight, “Yes, I’m aware I underperformed and already have plans to rectify it.”

She went from consistently receiving Top 5 scores to now having two weeks in a row where she got 12th and 13th respectively. Really, the whole situation was just one cycle of feeling bad. She felt bad about technically underperforming compared to her usual level, but then she would feel bad about feeling bad because she was still one of the top performers in the entire GDF, why the hell should she be groveling about needing to do better?

Clearly, her father didn’t see that.

“I would hope so,” he spoke matter-of-factly, “but to make things easier, I’ve already worked up some new training regimens for you to begin starting as soon as possible. You should get them within a few days.”

Lucy felt her face heat up from embarrassment, “Dad.”

He tsked so loud she heard it over the static, “No complaints. You should be thankful none of these were real scenarios. Can you even imagine the number of lives you might put in danger if you’re not at your best?”

Lucy could feel her fingers tighten, one set around the phone and the other around the edge of the counter, “Yes, Dad, I’ve thought about it in great detail.”

“Good, I’m happy we’re on the same page,” her father finished the conversation. “Now, it’s off to bed for the both of us. Next week is going to be rough, and I want you in tip-top shape.”

She took another deep breath, this one shakier much to her displeasure, “If that is all you needed, then I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

She could hear him fidget with whatever deceive he was calling with, “I hope you have a good rest of your night as well, Lucille.”

With the sound of the phone call abruptly hanging up ringing in her ears, Lucy shakily put the phone back into the receiver. Could she have one day that wasn’t somewhat of a nightmare? Turning around leaving the privacy booth, she-

Froze, because standing in the doorway staring at her was Jeff Tracy, who seemed to have the same amount of belief as her in terms of him being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Uh,” Tracy stammered. The booths were soundproof, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see the almost-raggedy state she was in, “Everything… okay?”

Welp, it wasn’t like anything could get worse for her tonight, “Just family stuff. Having a bit of a tizzy at the moment.”

Tracy’s fingers fidgeted, like he wanted to grab something but since there wasn’t a thing to grab, he could only grasp the open air. Much like how he couldn’t find the proper words for this conversation, “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. It’s never fun fighting with your family.”

Fighting with your family, what a joke, “I guess you could call it that.”

She was tired, she was cranky, and not even Jeff Tracy being in the room prevented her from sitting down at one of the tables outside the booths for a moment of rest. She leaned back a little, silent and not giving Tracy any kind of attention. He was even about to shrug his shoulders and leave her to her business when she whined and pushed her wrists into her eyes.

“I’m just so sick of it,” she exclaimed to empty silence.

That is, until Tracy's voice sounded out, "Do you still want me to walk away or?"

Looking up from her hands, she was met with Jeff Tracy's concerned face. He seemed to be genuine, not creepily invested or anything. She could also just be tired as hell and exhaustion is ruining her decision-making skills.

"Probably won't matter," she decided. "I highly doubt you can change anything."

Jeff took slow steps forward, testing the waters and making sure he won't get bitten, before sitting down next to her. With the way she was positioned, it made it so he was mostly directly in front of her, "Well, having an ear to vent to never hurt anyone."

She let out a shaky exhale, rubbing her palms against her pants to get rid of the sweat on her palms, “Recently, one of my roommates retired from being a Cadet, and it’s making me realize that I may or may not feel a similar way. I think that this job is not something I’m cut out for.”

Jeff blinked, expecting there to be more that she wanted to say. When there wasn’t, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “Why? The job is incredible! You get to use all this amazing technology and even save lives-”

“That’s the point!” she exclaimed, not angrily. Just exhausted, “It’s so much pressure. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t so constant, but it is and it’s gotten to be too much. I thought I could handle it at the start, and I did for a little, but now…” she drifted off, sighing, “It’s a lot.”

Jeff relented to that, “Fair enough. Then why don’t you just quit? They have systems in place for this kind of stuff, don’t they?”

She turned to give him an apathetic yet also displeased stare, “My father is Callahan Traile.”

No immediate response.

“Holy shit,” Jeff whispered before abruptly and loudly clearing his throat. “Right, right, but still, wouldn’t that make it easier? No one can tell his daughter no, yeah? Not unless they want an ass-kicking to Sweden and back.”

Lucy wanted to be irritated, she did, but she couldn’t quite get there. She could tell Jeff simply hadn’t had experience with an overbearing parent, which was a good thing. Fewer situations like hers were genuinely great, but, “He’s the reason I started this job in the first place. I always had a knack for athletics, and being his only child he obviously wanted to capitalize on it. Without consulting me, of course. Now I’m here, getting late-night phone calls from him that do nothing to help my high blood pressure levels.”

Jeff was finally grasping the picture, “He forced you into this career?”

All Lucy could do was nod, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders now that she was finally able to admit this to someone.

You could see the exact moment Jeff had a lightbulb appear in his head, “Oh, yikes, I never thought a man like him would become a parent like that. I would have hoped someone who looked out for others would know how to look out for their own kids, especially in a task as big as the GDF, but my mother always said I was a wishful thinker.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow, subconsciously appreciating being believed immediately without the need for extra explanation, “I’m surprised you’re against him. You’re an accomplished man, I would have thought that you would try to get your hypothetical kids involved in those accomplishments as well.” Why wouldn’t he? If she would admit to anything, it was that they were legitimately amazing feats.

“If they showed interest in my stuff, then yes,” Jeff said with no hesitation. “And if they were good at it too. If they didn’t care then I wouldn’t even think about trying. I’ve been in business for a long time, and after a while, you find that someone somewhat good at their job is just as good as someone who’s really good but doesn’t want to be there. There needs to be a balance, even more so in risky things like this and your father should be aware of this most of all.” He shook his head, thinking, “This needs fixing, starting with you.”

Wait, what?

Jeff looked back at her with the most serious look of the night, “Would you like me to try and get you out? Not for the GDF’s sake, but for yours. The whole point of this operation is to prevent preventable deaths, but that means jack all if they aren’t doing the same for their own goddamn people. What do you say, wanna give your father the biggest wake-up call of his life?”

Lucy was completely caught off guard by the direction this took, “Thanks for your concern, but I highly doubt anyone else is getting my special kind of treatment. We don’t need to make a big stink.”

Jeff shook his head, not accepting that answer, “That’s not good enough. Having one exception to these kinds of things leads to more and more until there’s so many that the rules were obviously not the important part in the first place. Besides, disregarding any safety violation or any other by-the-book reasoning, you simply don’t need to go through this. You don’t ‘deserve it,’ you don’t need to take it to save others, no nothing.”

Okay, Lucy had to question why he was so insistent about this now, “Sure, yes, I’m going to trust the man who’s been interested in me and is super theatrical since forever to look out for my best interests. I was already a good find, but now that you know I’m Callahan Traile’s daughter, I’m absolutely can’t-let-go material, right?”

“I promise, I swear on my career, that I am only doing this because it’s the right thing to do,” Jeff said sincerely, bringing his hands around to hold one of hers. “I don’t care if you don’t talk to me for the rest of our lives after this, I just want to make sure you have the same opportunities as everyone else does, and you can’t have that when you’re being forced into a life you don’t want.”

Lucy slowly started to believe him, but you couldn’t blame her for being pessimistic, “How do I know you aren’t just pulling stuff out of your ass?”

Jeff took a deep breath before choosing his words very carefully, “Back when I was in college, I had a nasty falling out with a friend. I’m talking ‘we never spoke afterward’ falling out. He disappeared for a few weeks, but I was still concerned about him, because I would have hated for him to have gotten hurt. Eventually, our dorm caught on fire, and with the help of some other friends of mine, we got everyone out. In that process, we learned our ex-friend was inside where the worst of the fire was, and that he was the one that set the place ablaze.”

Lucy gasped.

“But I still attempted to save him,” Jeff continued. “Because he needed to answer questions, because dying in a fire sounds awful, because he was still human and deserved a chance to live a better life the next day. I was able to get him out, but he disappeared again soon afterward. We haven’t heard from him since, and we only hope that it was to start a new life and not plan to try something so dangerous once more.”

Lucille stared at Jeff Tracy in silence, unable to say any words.

Jeff sighed after a few seconds, squeezing her hand reassuringly, “I have no way to prove this to you. For all you know, I’m just making myself out to be the big and grand upstanding hero looking for hot women to fawn all over me. The point wasn’t that. The point was that I think everyone deserves to be offered help no matter how I personally feel about them. Positive or negative, everyone needs someone in their corner.”

Lucy finally came up with her answer, “I believe you.”

Jeff blinked, “Really? Wait, that came out wrong-”

Despite the odds, Lucy found herself giggling, “Don’t worry, I get it. If you’re serious about wanting to help me, then I’ll take it.”

Now it was Jeff’s turn to be nearly speechless, “Are you sure?”

Lucy made a noise that was between a laugh and a cry, “At this point? Yes. I love my dad, I really do, but I don’t want to be ambitious like he is. I don’t have grand and upstanding dreams like he wants me to have. I want to just settle down somewhere, maybe even garden a little. The life where you can end up on the news every week is just so… intense.”

Jeff paused for a moment to fully grasp that he wasn’t being turned down. “That’s understandable,” he said genuinely, humming after as he thought hard about something. “Alright, I think I have a plan.”

Said plan included getting the two of them away from the GDF for a week on an unplanned vacation. Turns out, Chantelle might have had a point about having a rich person help you do what you wanted. She was never told the details, but she knew it had a lot to do with Jeff’s crazy amounts of “influence.”

“Is this legal?” she asked only when they were on a plane flight to Kansas.

Jeff chuckled as he leaned back in his seat, “Maybe not, but don’t worry. I made sure our places in the GDF were covered by people who would treat them with the highest level of care. I would never dip out on such an important job like ours for no reason, and especially not if I don’t have something to make up for my absence.”

Hmm, maybe he wasn’t the complete and total flaunty caricature she thought he was.

As for why they were going to Kansas for some reason, Jeff finally explained during the taxi ride away from the airport.

“Whenever I’m overwhelmed,” he began, “I always find that going back to my roots makes me feel better. Considering your ‘roots’ probably won’t provide the same feeling, I figured I could share.”

She was taken to an average-sized farm, surrounded by lush trees and beautiful rolling hills. Waiting on the porch was a middle-aged woman, blonde hair falling straight down to her shoulders. She held her arms open for Jeff to flop into them, “Ah, Jeffie, I was getting worried you were forgetting about me.”

Jeff grinned, leaning out of her hold, “Of course not. I’ve just recently gotten a little busy.” He gestured to Lucy, “Mom, meet Lucille. She needed some time off and I thought I would provide it.” He then turned to her, “Lucille, meet my mother, Sally. She’s been the one-woman-show running this operation of a farm for the past ten years.”

Lucy finally felt comfortable enough to walk up the steps to stand on the porch, holding her hand out for Sally to shake and instead getting met with a giant hug. In any other scenario, Lucy probably would have sweep-kicked her assailant. However, this time she simply hugged back, and not just because Sally was an older lady.

“It’s such a joy to meet you,” Sally said, breaking the hug but leaving her hands on Lucy’s shoulders, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Huh?

Before Lucy could ask about that, Jeff cleared his throat obnoxiously, “Well, I do believe both of us are tuckered out from the flight. If you don’t mind, I’ll show Lucy her room and then order dinner. How do you feel about that one Mongolian place we enjoy?”

With that, Lucy was shown where they would sleep and given takeout food unlike anything she had ever tasted. A few days into her stay and a missed call from her dad, Jeff elaborated on his plan a little more. Lucy was already okay with staying at his place, but hearing extra details never hurt anyone.

"Obviously, your father can't do much now that you're an adult," he elaborated, "but I do worry his level of influence and power won't help in making your life easier. I figured if he wanted to risk getting petty, not only would he be overstepping your authority as an adult-"

"-he would be going after you, a random person who doesn't have the excuse of being a family member," Lucy finished.

Jeff smirked, "If he wants to come onto our property to talk, then, by all means, he better be here to just talk. Any more than that and he has the threat of a lawsuit bigger than the entire GDF, and knowing him he's smart enough to not try anything on that level."

Lucy knew deep down that her dad wasn't that bad, but she also knew that every day he was getting more unpredictable. Maybe it was selfish, but it was nice to finally feel like someone was willing to put their life between hers and her father's. Especially at a time like this.

Eventually, more missed calls came into play, and Lucy realized that if she wanted this to be finished she would need to put her foot down. She agreed to meet at a neutral location, a local bar in town. She hoped that being in public would be the last little bit of influence her dad would take into consideration to keep things civil.

Throughout it all, Sally and Jeff stood by her side.

Sally stayed out in the car while Jeff went into the bar with her, never overstepping into what was her fight. She never truly realized just how much she appreciated his silent but present support. He was standing slightly behind her and her booth as she hashed it out with her dad once and for all.

She always wanted to go back to that bar and ask the regulars what it must have been like seeing Jeff Tracy and Callahan Traile in the same room.

"-s out of character for you!" Her dad thankfully kept it civil, but not calm, "You've been nothing but well trained since forever, and now all of a sudden you get a rich boyfriend and everything has gone kaput! I was hoping when you found someone, it wouldn't be a sleazy money bag who-"

"You don't understand a single thing about this situation," she found herself getting more offended on Jeff’s behalf than her own somehow. "Jeff Tracy is a good man who offered his help after I realized I was getting tired of your antics, nothing more, nothing less, which you might have understood if you had ever taken ten seconds out of your day to ask me how I feel!"

(If she turned around at all during the convo, she would have seen a flustered Jeff, not prepared to hear someone call him her "boyfriend" so abruptly.)

She preferred not to think about much of that week anymore. All she knew was that she was able to scrounge up enough respect (or at least pity) from her father to loosen the reins. She agreed to finish out her stint at the GDF because she liked the job, just not the constant pressure, and then her father would back off. She would be free to continue her life however she wanted.

Her father would sometimes reach out to her, which she appreciated, but ultimately their relationship stayed strained. Too much worry about things going back to being the way they used to be prevented her from fully closing the gap. It was unfortunate, but she supposed that's how life tended to be as well.

Once she and Jeff went back to work, she was surprised to find herself missing him. He stayed true to his word, not demanding anything from her as some kind of "payment." He was genuine in his want to help her at most and leave it at that, though he did wave hello at her when they occasionally crossed paths.

He was a funny guy and had lots of stories to tell and advice to give. She didn't have many friends outside her roommates, and the week she spent at the Tracy Farm convinced her that she wanted more. So she ended up being who sought him out. It was mind-boggling to the other Cadets, that stone-faced Traile was actively wanting to hang out with dorky Tracy. What could she say to that? He was nice. Certainly, she made exceptions like this before?

It wasn't until Chantelle gave her a look and Juniper said "Eyo, honey, I thought you said you would never like him" did Lucy finally have her oh moment.

A few weeks into their blooming bud of a relationship, Lucy still wasn't sure what was more of a surprise: her being the one to initiate their first kiss, or Valerie being the only one that believed she would eventually and excitedly agree to put a ring on her finger.

---

A lifetime of hearing babies and children cry led to Lucy absolutely hating the sound.

But now, here on her and her husband’s farmhouse? It was possibly one of the best noises ever. A sweeter medley than even the most talented of orchestras could play.

Because the one making the noise was a pudgy little thing, just born into the world thanks to Lucy’s determination and her mother-in-law’s assistance. If you asked Lucy all those years ago that she would give birth to a healthy baby boy, then she would have given you the stink eye, assuming you were trying to flirt with her. Not that she didn’t want to, but considering her circumstances at the time, you couldn’t blame her for being less focused on that particular dream compared to others.

“Welp, now that the hard part is over,” Sally sighed, wiping her head with her forearm, “I should go and get that giddy son of mine in here to help you out with the rest.”

Lucy sighed happily, vaguely listening to Sally get up and leave the room. She was too busy focusing on her brand new baby boy in her arms and getting him to relax. With careful rocking and motherly shushes, the baby’s sobs slowly petered away into simple sniffles.

She somehow managed to achieve quietness right as rapid but gentle footsteps made their way into the room, followed by a man’s voice, “Oh. Oh wow.”

Lucy smiled, still looking at their son, “Glad to see you finally join us. I was starting to think you were having second thoughts.”

“Well, forgive me for knowing my strengths and weaknesses,” Jeff playfully retorted back, “and realizing I would not be the best at handling childbirth and didn’t want to hurt you or the baby.”

Lucy rolled her eyes as she felt a chest press against her back, and it was here she finally glanced away from the baby for the first time so she could turn and press a kiss to her husband’s lips, “You could never hurt me.”

Jeff leaned into the kiss with a grin before breaking off, letting Lucy go back to staring at their son. He would be lying if he said he didn’t want to stare a little bit either, “He’s beautiful, Luce. You did an amazing job as always.”

Suddenly, taking both their breaths away, was the baby opening his eyes for the first time. A radiant blue color absorbed their attention completely. Lucy cooed, “I’m struggling to think of what to name him. There are just too many choices.”

Jeff reached forward so their new son could reach out and blindly grasp his finger, “I was thinking something like Malcolm.”

A moment of silence.

“Absolutely not,” Lucy decided.

Jeff sputtered, “What? What’s wrong with that?”

Lucy shook her head fondly, but her eye roll did have a hint of annoyance, “I heard you talking to your mother a few weeks ago about your ideas on the naming convention for our family. I’m sorry, but Malcolm is a name I refuse to touch with a ten-foot pole.”

Jeff, instead of being chastised, smirked, “So you’re saying that you’re not objecting to naming them after famous astronauts?”

Lucy huffed, almost indignantly refusing to answer that question. “You know, Scott would be a nice name.”

Another moment of silence.

“Yeah, that does sound nice,” Jeff agreed. “Welcome to the world, Scott.”

Lucy knew her husband enough to easily picture the full name. Scott Carpenter Tracy, the newest addition to the family bloodline.

“He has your eyes,” Lucy quietly pointed out.

Jeff hummed, “He kind of does.”

Lucy made a similar hum, “So are you just going to steal all the ‘they look like you points’ from me, or will I get a turn?”

Jeff laughed, shaking his hand a little, making baby Scott gurgle happily, “Don’t worry, if we have another, I’ll make sure you’ll have your moment.”

“I think you mean when, Jeff,” Lucy corrected.

Jeff froze for a second before lightly shaking his head, unable to comprehend how he got so lucky to have her in his life, “Of course, honey. When the next one comes, which I may or may not be looking super forward to, they’ll be sculpted exactly to your liking as much as you want.”

Lucy loved the sound of that.

---

“You two need to calm down,” Lucy tried to play the diffuser. Quietly, so she didn’t wake Alan—who she was holding—from his much-needed rest. The moment he gave her his puppy-dog eyes combined with his flushed cheeks from his fever, well, she was always soft toward her children.

Scott and Gordon were hanging out, having fun playing a board game, when it seemed like Scott brought up the small elephant in the room that was Gordon’s feelings toward the newest Tracy. Now the two of them were locked in a glaring contest only to be interrupted by their mom. Scott was indignant, “But it’s been three years! He needs to get over it!”

Lucy giggled, “I seem to recall you feeling a similar way toward John when he was born.”

Scott immediately became chastised, and Gordon’s grin way more smug.

“Scott does have a point as well, though,” Lucy reasoned. “Sweetie, I don’t know how many times I need to say it, but a new baby in the family doesn’t mean you’re being replaced. Look at all your brothers before you; we didn’t stop giving attention to Virgil when you were born, did we?”

Gordon puffed his cheeks and crossed his arms, “But what if it’s different?”

Lucy sat down next to Gordon on the couch, sandwiching him between her and Scott, “Different how?”

“I don’t know!” Gordon exclaimed. Then, he was much quieter, “I don’t know. I just feel like it will be.”

Lucy pulled him in closer, carefully adjusting Alan so they each took up one side of her, “I know Alan was a surprise for all of us when I found out I was going to have him, I get that there were some life-long plans we had in mind that we needed to readjust when a sudden fifth came along, but you know your mom and dad are experts at handling surprises, yeah? Things are different, but nothing is new. We are the Tracys, we are a family, and no one gets left behind with family.”

Gordon let out squeaky laughs as she pinched his cheek and playfully pulled, and it was hard for Scott to not smile at the sight as well. However, something felt… off. He looked around, and when he was able to put his finger on it, he asked, “Hey, mom? Do you hear that?”

Lucy paused and proceeded to do the same sort of prairie dog movement as her son. She lifted her head and glanced around the cabin. At first, nothing came across as weird or wrong, and she was going to try and soothe Scott’s worry, but then her ears finally caught the vague noise of rumbling. Things in their building seemed to vibrate more and more the longer she stared at them, and it was with sudden, horrifying clarity that she realized what was about to happen to her kids.

She turned back to them, and the last thing she saw was her two sons looking at her with fear, “Boys-”

A lot of it was cold, a lot of it was dark, but at the very least, she was able to take comfort in a voice telling her that her kids would be taken care of and kept safe.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #lucille tracy #lucy tracy #jeff tracy #grandma tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #my post #my fic #series: rules of alchemy

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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years ago

Note

my apologies for sending so many asks 🥲 but I’m emotionally invested in Ori x Mari story. How about a train/airport scene where a slightly older Ori says goodbye to slightly older Mari since she’s studying abroad or moving way but they promise they will see each again 🤔

My friend...

Here are another 1,1 k words about Ori and Mari then :D

You chose the subject and goodbyes are always a bit sad...

And here the amazingly heart-breaking artwork by @estethell 😭😭😭

Goodbye but not farewell

Words: 1,1 k

Warning: a bit sad, mention of death

Characters : Ori x Mari

She would not cry, Mari told herself, she was too old to cry, and moreover, it was undignified.

“You’ll take care of yourself, yes?” Ori asked for the umpteenth time while pulling her suitcase down the long, deserted platform in the chilly morning air.

“I am not a pebble,” Mari tried to laugh but her voice sounded hollow and forced. His head snapped up almost immediately, his dark eyes drilling into hers with alarm and sorrow giving them a glossy sheen; Ori was her best friend and – of course – he knew when she was lying.

“Be good, work hard,” Mari tried to make her voice stronger and louder, but the mere attempt gave her away, for she was a soft-spoken dam.

Many people avoided her – thinking that she was touched by some sinister power – and she let them believe that she was somehow magical; it was always better than the awfully boring truth that her fragile health had never really been overcome.

Ori and his family were the only ones to know that she was not a recluse; she simply wasn’t hale enough to undertake long strolls in bad weather.

Finally, it had been decided that she would move – at least for a time – to a warmer, more clement climate to recover from the last bad bout of illness.

As much as Ori hated seeing her leave him, he couldn’t keep her here – where the winds were as sharp as blades and the cold bit with a thousand needle-like fangs – when it would ultimately end up killing her; at least, if she moved away, he could tell himself that she was alive and that there would be a way for him to see her again.

“You’ll remember me, yes?” Ori pleaded, wishing his own voice didn’t sound as unsteady and tremulous; he needed to be strong for her so she could leave without looking back. Staying would mean accepting the certain fate of a short, miserable, isolated life wrecked by illness with his friendship as only solace.

What a pitiful measure of comfort that had to be.

“Pack up warmly,” he whispered when she didn’t reply, “and write me a letter…or two…or as many as you manage to write.”

That made Mari smile genuinely for the first time on this day.

“Of course, I have no other friends but you,” she replied, hugging that bony, soft frame she knew as well as her own body as tightly as she could.

“I have been selfish, haven’t I? Keeping you all to myself?” Ori smiled ruefully.

“I have never wanted any other friends,” Mari grinned, “you were all I needed and Mahal, how my heart bleeds to imagine being without you.”

A sharp pain pierced Ori’s heart at that but – no matter how much he yearned to throw himself at her feet and beg her not to go – he mustered up that brave, crooked smile she would see through immediately as he swore that they would meet again.

“You have a destiny to fulfil, my sweet friend,” Mari sighed, “and I have a death to meet. I might have cheated it for too long.”

“No,” his voice rang out like a bell, “no, if you’re leaving me – heartbroken beyond your wildest imaginations – it is because you’ll preserve your life that way.”

Mari laughed through the tears she couldn’t keep at bay despite her best efforts.

“What am I to live for now? Who is going to read to me when I’m too tired to get up? Who is going to make sure I eat even when the thought of food makes me nauseous? Who’s going to hold my hand so I can walk a few steps in the fresh air and the bright sunlight?”

“You won’t need that anymore,” Ori tried to assuage her fears, “you’ll get better and you’ll grow stronger!”

At least, that was what he hoped for with all his might; the mere idea that this would not work was unbearable to him. No, Mari – who had not missed a single one of his readings or forgotten his birthday even once – would be healthy, hale, and happy. She had to be. She deserved to be. He willed her to be.

“My dear friend,” Mari smiled, “my only friend really, is an ailing heart less lethal than a failing body? I guess we shall find out.”

“Mari?” as she was about to board the train – despicable metal dragon about to abduct what he held dearest in this world – he called her back.

“We shall meet again, promise me this,” he pleaded. Her hands were still so narrow and cold in his own; he had seen those fingers intertwined with his for decades, and he could barely recognise his empty palm without them.

“In this life or the next,” Mari whispered, breaking the only rule she had ever held on to in her long friendship with Ori by leaning forward and pressing her lips against his brow, “my soul will recognise yours.”

“Don’t die,” he coughed against the tears of despair and loss scratching his throat raw on the inside, “Mari, at least try. I shall come next summer, next month, next week. Call and I’ll come. I’ll work and save, I swear, just…wait for me!”

“My sweetling,” Mari breathed in that wholesome, sweet smell one last time, “I shall always wait for you.”

And with those words, she boarded the train without looking back.

A soft tap on her window made her flinch, the words unspoken bubbling to the surface inexorably as she saw that face that had been her constant companion, her deepest solace, and her truest love since her early childhood.

Cracking open the tiny top window, she heard him repeat all his good advice.

“I love you,” she said, loud and clear, “I have always loved you and I might never have loved anyone else half as much. Thank you for being the best friend any living soul has ever had.”

“Let me be your friend a little longer, let me be your friend until we’re old and grey, let me be your friend until I forget my own name but still remember yours,” he pleaded, pressing that hand that had supported, fed, and comforted her through the years against the cold glass.

She would stare at the faint impression throughout her whole journey, Mari knew, she would trace it like she caressed the scar on her knee from when they had climbed an apple tree and fallen off or the lingering taste of his hot chocolate.

“We’ll see, Ori dear, we’ll see. Goodbye for now, I shall write to you and yes, I shall remember you always,” she spoke hastily as the train started moving.

“Goodbye Mari, always goodbye and never farewell,” he screamed at the detestable contraption picking up speed.

Long did he stand there, looking at the plumes of smoke until they dissipated into the grey sky, hoping he might see her – alive and well – very soon.

First part of this : here

#fotfics #the hobbit #fotfics bingo #february challenge #fluffy prompts #love #fanfiction #ori #ori the dwarf #writing #sadness #goodbyes

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steve0discusses · 3 years ago

Text

Yugioh S5 Ep 20: Pharaoh’s Cool New Trick

Digging my way through quite a pile of commission work (funny how these things only come all at once or not at all), nearing the light at the end of the tunnel, was looking forward to some free time to catch up on my many little side projects when I was asked to take off for a weekend to do some cat-sitting to which I would NEVER say no to a cat, so like...Rip this blog I guess, we only update like once a week nowadays, but what do you do?

That’s right, play Puzzles and Dragons! The only phone game worth paying any attention to! Where they just released Pegasus on their Yugioh Collab and he looks pretty great!

So I’m just gonna take a second for some art appreciation, because the Puzzles and Dragons art team is just A++++ honestly, and yes, I did pull 13 times to get a Pegasus in my monster box, and yes, he is a completely insane team leader that is absolutely broken when paired with Yugi (the numbers are so satisfying) but...look at him. He looks so good!

(also I finally got Joey Wheeler, and so now my gatcha cravings are settled. And, don’t worry, I play this game so much that I was there during Christmas when they offered like a bajillion stones for free so I didn’t actually use real money on this.)

Now PAD also released a Weevil and Rex, and I don’t know why, and neither does the art team because they still look pretty good but in comparison to all the mains, they sure do looks like just some shorty guys in some casuals.

though I gotta admit, I want to learn how the hell this art team does swooshy effects, because man, that would make my art so much better to just have flames violently exploding out of all my art. Why am I not doing that more often? I have the technology.

anyway, I didn’t bother trying to pull them. Maybe I’ll accidentally pull them when they eventually release a Duke Devlin. (also, RIP to the fact that Roland will probably never be in Puzzles and Dragons but like...I can only send them so many polite letters covered in stickers pretending I’m some 10 year old child and writing in my broken Hiragana “Roland in PAD?”. Thems the breaks. (They also might not remember who Roland is.))

Shoutouts to the card that Weevil is holding that is censoring this nipple on the booby spider, PS.

So because this is not actually a Puzzles and Dragons blog, and it’s been ten eons since I regularly updated so I could remember episode to episode...where the hell were we?

That’s right, we’re on an island now. This show’s wonderful obsession with evil islands (and spoiler, this is one of the few Yugioh Islands that doesn’t explode at the end. Mostly because Kaiba isn’t here to do it or this place would be cinder)

(read more island stuff under the cut)

Anyway, after announcing “hey guys! Screw islands!” Yugi immediately collapses and without any warning.

Apparently the armor is a big ol parasite, which is something that Yugi is so used to at this point that he refuses to admit that this is a problem. Just normal Muto stuff, refusing to tell anyone that he has a serious illness going on underneath that giant mass of hair.

(the sailor moon vibes coming off this weird orb energy)

Sort of feels like a call back to S1 when Yugi was clearly possessed and everyone else was like “He acting weird to you?” except it’s S5 and everyone has learned to never trust Yugi when he says he’s fine and they are responding like he is about to die. Which is correct.

Outside of the cave falls this scroll that is...glowing, I guess. So they open it up and get a bunch of hieroglyphs that give them the “riddle of light” and like youknow...it’s riddle stuff.

They’re doing this riddle for “wings.” And it’s like...everyone’s monster here has a set of wings or an ability to fly. Every single monster except for I dunno, flaming swordsman? Hell, Yugi himself had two sets of wings when he fused with Dark Magician (which was weird, and I still don’t like to think about what technically was going on there.) But we have to go and get ourselves even more wings.

Weirdly, Joey turns to Tea and does something that in any other show would be completely normal. He was like “you want to stay here with Yugi, don’t you?” and it was the first time Joey has ever actually addressed the fact that Tea and Yugi are close. Uncharted territory. I was amazed at the amount of casual shipping that is happening here. It’s almost like a normal ass relationship.

So the boys decide to go off, and be boys and tackle this themselves. And they shouldn’t have, because Tea is smart for this group, and also has the only healing spell.

Like if you’re playing D+D you wouldn’t typically leave your only healer behind. Just saying.

Also like...Grandpa Muto went with them? I guess he’d have to since he’s the translator but also...kind of weird to leave your grandson dying in a cave, but maybe that’s just the Muto lifestyle.

Do not be fooled by my caps, no one has addressed the Bakura in the puzzle for 3 seasons. I’m starting to think this show will never address the Bakura in the puzzle. Which honestly, that would be hilarious if they made a big deal out of that plot point and then couldn’t use it in the end.

And speaking of plot points that kind of come out of nowhere and don’t make full sense with the continuity of the show--Joey has regressed back to the 4th grade.

Hey show? What?

So like if you love Joey, this is not the arc for you, because this arc he is reduced to a Himbo and nothing else. Straight up didn’t know what an echo is, but is very strong and pretty, I guess.

This inevitably happens with any TV show becuase different people make different parts, and I’ve brought up before that sometimes it feels like some teams only have loose post-it notes of what any character should be like at any given point (ESPECIALLY with Seto Kaiba’s timeline) but like...

...Personally I’m mot so fond of this interpretation of Joey, kind of ignores Joey’s best traits, and makes Tristan look way too smart in comparison (and like I always pinned Tristan to be the Himbo of the group, but maybe it’s because they give Tristan so little else to do?)

And like don’t get me wrong, Joey’s a dumbass a lot of the time and needs to get corrected by his pals...but...to the point he doesn’t know what an echo is? He’s a dumbass in a High School student sort of way, youknow?

Anyway, they get down to this big ravine, and they have to destroy this stone while the light passes over it. Kind of feels like a Breath of the Wild shrine quest, actually. In fact, I think Breath of the Wild recycled the shadow/sunlight pathing quest like 4 or 5 times. (I love Breath of the Wild to death but boy did they run out of ideas at the end there.)

They have to fight a glass monster and it’s kind of like...do you know the game Balls 3D? probably not, but it looked like a bunch of random shapes stuck together like a 90′s animation. They basically went to war with shapes.

Pure Himbo energy, has several pokemon, but punches for his pokemon instead of using them. A power move if I ever saw one.

Youknow that would make pokemon a lot more interesting if you could like throw out your pikachu, and then choose to just physically run up to your opponents Eevee and sock it in the jaw. Raise of hands--I know you all would love a version of pokemon like that. Let Ash Ketchum punch a Ratata.

Bro has informed me that Ash does do something like this in the anime. But I’m not talking about the anime, I’m talking about the video game. Give me the option to physically combat my rival. This is what I want, Pokemon.

They discover a way to break the monolith, and the show thinks we’re like actually 7 years old (because the show is Y7, although I forget because it deals with so many dark themes) so the show is going to hold on to this puzzle for a while...just to fill time. And it’s fine because we gotta switch over to Pharaoh anyway.

Yami has this dream again. He attempts to fuse with Dark magician to overcome the dream, but alas, he is still not strong enough.

Yugi wakes up in this murky cave while Tea is out washing out like...some rag? (he’s also still got a rag, so I guess multiple rags were required for how sweaty Yugi is.)

Yugi says “I feel like I’m a new man!” a lot in this episode, and every time he calls himself a man like he’s some sort of adult it’s very funny to me.

And then this plot lore dropped.

I mean I guess inevitably it had to happen...

But man, end of an era. It was freakin hilarious while it lasted: that Pharaoh refused to read ancient Egyptian because it’s like 2002 and he is a High Schooler living in Japan and he actually doesn’t WANT to resolve the mystery of the puzzle. Maybe the people who made this arc don’t know about how in S2 and S3, the fact Pharaoh couldn’t read Marik’s back tatt was like...a really big issue. He couldn’t read the God card, he couldn’t even read that massive tablet that read “HEY PHARAOH THIS IS LITERALLY YOU”. KAIBA had to tell him how to read the God card for him. Freakin Seto “Magic is a lie” Kaiba had to tell him how to use the God Card because Pharaoh couldn’t read it.

But like...Pharaoh finally gave in at some point after the world was devoured by the Leviathan, and before Kaiba finished building Kaibaland (which was already built in S1 but wtv)

The timelines on this show have always been a mishmash...but this one is just like...

...show are you trying to convince me that at any point in this show after season Zero, Pharaoh had any idea what he was doing? Did he sap that brain energy straight out of Joey Wheeler so he could do this?

Wow.

(secretly hoping he forgets how to read Egyptian after this arc is over and the show goes back to the other development team)

Pharaohs reasoning is that, if this is the riddle of the light.....

....then where is the riddle of darkness????????????

and when Tea was like “Pharaoh that is not even remotely logic. Omg it’s so bright outside, lets go back to gross cave.” and Pharaoh was like “Tea! You got it!” and she was like “What the hell are you talking about?”

Not gonna lie, I saw the Orichalcos green, and I got concerned.

Anyway, Yugi gets very frustrated and was like “ugh, lets go save em. They’re gonna die (again.)” and marches down there as if he didn’t pass out an hour ago.

And he fuses with Dark Magician again while everyone else (including his grandpa) was like “Yugi are you freakin kidding me? The suit freakin kills you omg! Tea you had one freakin job!”

And then we get the plot twist that...I mean it makes sense but it was choreographed in a confusing way.

And out of no where this guy shows up again:

So this mysterious man shows up and says “If you don’t succeed you have to live here forever” which...nice...that would probably save the world a lot of problems if Yami got locked away and took his OP puzzle with him. And then this man also says “if you do succeed you become VERY POWERFUL” and Yami was like. “...”

This whole episode had a theme to it, where Tristan and Joey were trying to prove that they could do things on their own and without Yugi’s help. And honestly...felt a little bit misplaced. Yami’s the same guy who murdered Yugi last season with the Orichalcos so like...

...I mean he is probably more reliable than Tristan who once died and turned into a robot monkey for 10ish episodes.

and then they flew into a glowing door.

Folks, this was wild to look at.

This is wild.

And at this point I closed Photoshop and thought I was done. But then I looked at my timeline on the video and was like...wait...there’s more?

and I’m really glad I kept watching because it went back to Alex, who...is apparently just still at those steps in this haunted ass Pyramid.

Now we’re watching Yugioh.

I forgot for a second when they turned Joey into a Himbo and made Pharaoh literate, but we’re back. I mean...

...look at the liner art on this adult man.

So...I posit the question...has Alex spent the last 2-3 episodes doing nothing but applying eyeliner to his face in the dark? Because he absolutely has. And honestly, the vibe of being in a spooky haunted pyramid with barely any light, just applying eyeliner down the edge of your face...that’s a Yugioh vibe, if I ever saw one.

This arc is wild. Anyway, next episode we do even more fetch quests and riddles? Just going to guess now that we probably will.

(and for those new here, this is a link so you can read them from the top. Which, since we’re in S5, means you got like...hours of Yugioh content to read through. Enjoy the rewards of my weird hobby.)

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

#Yugioh #Yu-Gi-Oh #yami yugi #S5 #Ep20 #It's actually Ep 20 now I was wrong last time #Yugi muto #Grandpa Muto #Alexander the Great #Joey Wheeler #Tristan Taylor #Tea Gardner #TeaxYugi #never thought I would ever use that tag #in this show where they are canonically dating but sometimes it happens #Puzzles and Dragons #Because yes I had to talk about it. This collab is great

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suzu-kun22 · 4 years ago

Text

Not Quite Invincible

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30488721

Prompt: Hallucinations Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairings: Nanago, Satosugu Warnings: Illness, mentions of past canonical character death Summary: Nanami returns home to find a sick and delusional Gojou, talking to his long-gone best friend.

@badthingshappenbingo

If there are any specific prompts you’d like me to write and any specific scenarios/fandoms/pairings you’d like me to write for, just send in an ask!

Story below the cut!

To most, Gojou Satoru seems invincible.

To most that encounter him, he seems as though nothing bothers him. He doesn’t seem to know how to take a hit, what with an ability that stops just about everything from making contact and a tendency to reach speeds incomprehensible to most human eyes. To most, he is flawless. A beacon of hope. The pillar that holds up the feeble roof of Jujutsu Sorcery. Were it not for Gojou Satoru, would the institution even still be standing? It’s a question that has been posed many times, and yet it’s never one that Nanami Kento has seen answered in a way he finds satisfactory.

Still, for all of his power, for all of his strength, and for as many opponents that have fallen to Gojou Satoru, there are still things that even one such as he is weak to. There are still things that can leave him as vulnerable as the child that he pretends to be. There are still things that steal that confidence from his voice and leave him doing just about everything that he possibly can to cover up the shaking that’s left in its wake.

Apparently, Nanami Kento is one of few privileged enough to see it.

“What are you doing in my house?” Nanami asks with eyes narrowed and arms crossed over his chest. He had walked through the door to find a pair of shoes that were most certainly not his and a pitch black coat hanging on one of his hooks. Nanami owned nothing black. He had discovered, while working in a boring office where the only goal was money, money, and more money, that black made him look far too uptight, and made him feel the same way. If he was going to be saving people, he would be better served wearing a less depressing color.

There’s only one person who Nanami knows well enough to suspect them of being in his house, who also wears a black coat and... whatever the hell those shoes even are. How frustratingly annoying, that it’s also the man known for his ability to inflict just about anyone he speaks to with a migraine that just might last days, depending on his mood. If Gojou Satoru is feeling particularly annoying today, then Nanami will have to make sure to stock up on painkillers. If he’s feeling just mildly frustrating, then perhaps Nanami will manage to kick him out the door with minimal incident.

“Hmmmmm…?” There’s a long hum coming from the lump on Nanami’s couch. Wrapped up in blankets, Nanami can barely make out a head of ethereally white hair resting against one of his throw pillows. “…oh, you’re home?” The voice is familiar, but also not. It’s obviously the voice of Gojou Satoru. There’s no way that Nanami would ever be able to mistake that voice for anyone else. And yet, there’s something off about it. Something shaky, quiet, weak, vulnerable, and maybe just a bit broken.

“Yes. What are you doing in my house?” Nanami repeats his question, and there’s a long minute with no answer. Then the pile of blankets shifts, groans, and settles once again. This is going to take a while, it seems. “Are you going to answer me, or are we going to stand here all night?”

“…head hurts.” The pile mumbles. “Stop talking so loud–“ A hand pokes itself out from the mountain and waves at Nanami, as though asking him to quiet down. “–Shouko said… uhhh… somethin’ about sleeping until it goes away,” Gojou’s voice says with an edge to it that Nanami doesn’t recognize and most certainly doesn’t like. He furrows his brow, reaches down, and shakes the pile until it lets out another loud groaning sound and rolls over. Finally, there’s Gojou Satoru’s face. His signature blindfold is nowhere to be seen. His hair is even more disheveled than normal. His eyes are squeezed firmly shut and Nanami can make out beads of sweat on his brow. His skin is flushed, and Nanami would be willing to bet that those scarily blue eyes hidden behind lids are glassy.

“You’re sick.” Nanami states, and Gojou seems to flinch at the statement. “Why did you not go home?” Nanami asks with a raised eyebrow. Gojou lets out yet another groan and rolls over, tucking his face into the back of the sofa and hiding himself from view once again. Honestly, what a child. He can’t even be bothered to look Nanami in the eyes when they’re speaking. “Gojou–“

“Satoru.” Gojou interrupts. “When’d… When did you stop callin’ me that..?”

Nanami blinks. He stares, for a moment, unsure of what to do. As far as he remembers, he’s never used Gojou’s given name. Certainly never to his face. He reaches a hand forward, trying to rest it on Gojou’s forehead to feel for a temperature. The moment his fingers brush against the man’s hair, however, Gojou almost seems to jump away. Nanami pulls his hand back. Stares, for a moment, before reaching forward again and this time managing to rest his fingers against Gojou’s forehead. He doesn’t pull back, despite the intensity of the burning that he finds there.

“Mmmmm…” Gojou hums. “…your hand’s cold, Suguru.” He whispers, and it gives Nanami pause. Of course it does. What else is he meant to do, in response to that?

“Gojou, I’m not Getou.” Nanami says, because he can’t think of anything else to say. Gojou has a fever – which was obvious even before Nanami rested a hand on his forehead – which seems to be high enough to be giving him delusions. Nanami wonders, briefly, how the older of the two of them could be irresponsible enough to let himself get so sick. Then he remembers that the older of the two of them is Gojou Satoru, infamous for his strength and his complete and total lack of responsibility. “Why did you come here?”

“Missed you,” Gojou mumbles. “Ahhhh, prolly shouldn’t have said that. You’ll never let me live it down,” Gojou laughs. It’s humorless. Nanami hates the sound of it. “…Shouko said somethin’ about staying in bed… but bed is super boring when you’re alone,” He grumbles, turning his head as though going to look up, but his eyes stay firmly closed. Nanami wonders, absently, if the six eyes serve to worsen his headache or improve it. “…been a while since we could hang out, Suguru. How’s the afterlife treating you?” Gojou’s lips quirk up, into a smirk. Nanami could spot how fake it is from a mile away. “Having fun in hell?”

“Gojou.”

“Awww, c’mon!” There’s a shakiness to the happy tone that Nanami is certain most would miss. Most, however, haven’t known Gojou Satoru quite as long as Nanami Kento has. Most would assume that he’s playing some sick game with himself that no one else is allowed to get in on. Nanami knows better. “…j-just cause I killed you… d-doesn’t mean that we can’t still…” Gojou breathes a heavy exhale. As though something is pressing on his chest and Gojou can’t quite shake it. Nanami sighs. No matter what he says, it doesn’t seem to be working. For now, he might as well try and do something about the fever.

Gojou continues mumbling. Nanami crosses the living room and makes for the nearest bathroom. Once inside, he collects a rag and a basin, quickly filling it with cool water and allowing the rag to soak in it for a moment. With a sigh, Nanami lifts the basin and makes his way back to the sofa. Gojou has shifted slightly. His eyes are still closed, but he’s lying on his back now. One arm is slung over the back of the couch, and the other is resting on the floor. Normally, Nanami would comment on what a messy pose it is. Now is not normally.

“Stay still,” Nanami commands, setting the basin down beside the sofa. Gojou mumbles something that Nanami can’t quite make out – aside from the use of the name Suguru once again – but otherwise complies. What a strange sight, a Gojou Satoru who actually follows orders.

Nanami lays the damp folded cloth over Gojou’s forehead. It causes the white-haired sorcerer’s brow to furrow and his lips to twist into something of a grimace, but he doesn’t complain. The thought briefly crosses Nanami’s mind to take a picture. He can think of countless people who would appreciate a picture of the world’s strongest Jujutsu sorcerer in such a state. But the thought fades as quickly as it came. No matter how satisfying it might be to see someone as strong and insufferably annoying as Gojou humbled like this, that’s no excuse to take advantage of his pain for something so petty.

“…’m sorry, Surugu,” Gojou mumbles. His hands clench into fists and then unclench once again. “…’m sorry… d-didn’t wanna kill you.” There’s another moment of silence. Gojou’s breathing is labored and maybe a bit pained. Nanami wonders, for a moment, how Ieiri could even allow him to head anywhere on his own, if he was this sick. The thought is quickly replaced, however, with–

“…miss you,” Gojou whispers.

Nanami feels something ache in his chest.

He buries it. Like always.

“Go to sleep, Gojou. You’re sick.” Nanami gives another command. The last one worked well enough. Perhaps all it takes to get Gojou Satoru to actually listen for once is to give him a high fever and a bit of delusion. It just might be useful information, somewhere down the line.

“Mmmm… fine,” Gojou mumbles. His eyes stay closed, but the expression on his face relaxes a bit. “…see ya later… Suguru.” It’s the last thing he says, before his breathing begins to even out and his muscles lose a good amount of their tension. Nanami breathes a sigh of relief. He can only hope that the fever will break before Gojou wakes up again.

Gojou Satoru seems invincible, but Nanami Kento knows that he’s far from it.

As satisfying as it is to see the mighty Gojou Satoru humbled, Nanami can’t say that he wants to see any more of it.

#jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojou #kento nanami #suguru getou #nanago #satosugu #bad things happen bingo #hallucinations #angst #whump #angst writing #whump writing #my writing #suzu speaks #writing #ao3 #ao3 link

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a-non-ymouswriter · 4 years ago

Note

anyway i think my tumblr crashed before i could send a c!tubbo character analysis. so anyways ill just simplify what i said. tubbo was never viewed as the hero in the plot. always sidekick or VILLAIN, attached to someone or something else.

the closest he got to individuality was the president tubbo arc, and thats when people viewed him as a villain the most. people wanted him to follow the status quo, and never wanted him to make his own decisions or only the decisions people want. tommy is someone who did this to tubbo too, he wants the leadership role even though tubbo would be better. (this is bc of ppl pushing tommy into the hero role unwillingyly, plus the “if i dont speak loud enough, no one will take me seriously” mentality.)

tubbo is very loyal to tommy, in a different way that tommy is loyal to tubbo. tommy didnt respect tubbo, at least not until the exile and everything after, but he loves and cares for tubbo and would take a bullet for him and fight for him until hes blue, but hed rather take the lead. tubbo on the other hand will listen to whatever tommy says, because thats how he shows his loyalty.

i believe tubbo finds his worth in a position of leadership because he feels the most respected there. tubbo has always liked to build, which could be empowering to him, given it seems to be associated with power and control. when he moves to snowchester, he builds an entire commune after l'manberg is destroyed. he still wants all of the self confidence he has left with none of the conflict, so he develops nukes. he strays further and further away from the "yes man" others deem him to be, so others stay out of his way.

nobody has ever viewed tubbo as a hero - he's independent, mature, and can make his own decisions at the cost of interpersonal relationships. to some, this can seem cutthroat, but to him, its necessary. tubbo needs to be logical here. tubbo himself has a lot of things to work through. because hes certainly not emotionally developed, even if he is mature. his codependency with tommy assists in his own mindset of believing he always needs someone around to give him purpose, because sadly, without them, tubbo really believes he doesn't HAVE one. growing up in such a tight-knit community of soldiers where his task was always to "build" or "collect" stretches into his life YEARS down the line.

he's always been self-sacrificing, it's incredibly apparent now. he isn't viewed as a hero, and only an extension. that's why that line of "i was your sidekick" really hits hard, because tommy understands that tubbo IS a leader. tommy is trying to tell tubbo here that he IS worth something, that he's a leader, that his life is not an extension of his and worth more than trying to save everybody else. that's what tommy's trying to say.

huge credits to @/gendrman on twt, i got some of their points for this ask. so yeah, anyways tldr! tubbo has problems, tommy has problems. theyre working through it in canon, albeit slowly. and they need a break.

/dsmp obviously

holy damn

^^^^^^^

tubbo :’D

#animucrystal #i have no words #just THIS #dsmp #tubbo #tubbo rant

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hiswhiteknight · 4 years ago

Text

Always - Jamie Reagan

Always - Jamie Reagan One Shot

Here is my first request from @lclb13 - hope you like it! It was my best interpretation!

(I don’t own the characters or gifs)

Warning: Cursing, Woman being attacked

Gif** I got from Tenor, but I couldn’t find the username.

Gif** LauraDunn1 from Tenor app

You hopped out of the shower, drying your hair, before wrapping the towel around your body. With the smile on Jamie’s face, you could tell he was awake, “You should be sleeping,” you sing to him.

He sat up, his hair all messy, “Come here,” he said trying to reach for you.

Taking a few steps, you shake your head, “Oh no, I’m not being late to work again, I know that face.”

Giving you a pouty face, he says, “Please.” You roll your eyes, letting him take your hand, “I can’t sleep when you are being so distracting.” You see the look in his eye and shake your head knowing what he is going to do. He pulled you into the bed, laying on top of you, “What will being a little late hurt?”

He tried to kiss you and you put a finger to his mouth stopping him, “Oh, I don’t know I’m a doctor, so you know death, plague, the works.” Now he is the one shaking his head, “But you sure are cute with your bed head.”

This time he just took the time just to stare at you, love gushing from his eyes, “I’m so lucky to have you,” he murmured, “I’m married to a rock star doctor.”

You put your head to his, “Yeah, I am pretty amazing,” you grin, “But it doesn’t matter how much you butter me up, I am not being late to work today.” You lean down to give him a deep kiss before bolting out from underneath him, “You need to sleep, you can’t protect this great city if you are dead on your feet.”

“Save some lives babe,” he lays back down, watching you finish grabbing your things.

You send him a grin, “Always.”

You loved being an ER doctor, it was fast pace and you had to use your head. There was a fire at a group home, so you were helping triage the victims. Burns were some of the hardest cases to handle. You were sitting with a young man with burns down his forearm, but not much damage like the others, “How’d you get these burns,” you said, trying to peel the fabric from the flesh.

You were getting the feeling something was off, he was fidgety, and you could tell he didn’t want to be there, “I don’t know, the house was on fire, maybe running away.”

“Odd,” you say out loud. You should have just finished your job. You learned in med school, it wasn’t your job to investigate, but being married to a cop and his cop family, it got even harder not to try to connect the dots. “Where these burns are, they-,” before you could finish your sentence the guy cold socked you right in the face. It took your breath away and before you could call for help, he kneed you, and tackled you to the ground. You tried to block your body and fight back, but it only took a few seconds before a guard and nurse saw the commotion and yanked him off you.

You were sitting on a gurney, trying not to be inpatient, “Come on Roxy,” you urged, “Can I be cleared to do my job now?”

“Y/N, you were attacked. Shit, you have a black eye, busted lip, and some bruised ribs. Stop being wonder woman and go home,” she fused over you.

“I’m staying in principle, nurses deal with this crap all the time and are expected to stay,” She continued to monitor your charts, trying to ignore your self-righteous speech, “You get knocked down, you get back up. I’m fine. Let’s go.”

“Y/N,” she said, not looking up from the chart she was scanning. This got your attention, something was up, “Did you know you are pregnant?”

Your eyebrows shot up, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Blood work just came back, do you mind if I do an ultrasound,” she worked quickly, not really waiting for a response. She was one of your best friends, nearly like sisters. She didn’t need your words to know your wishes. Suddenly there was a heartbeat sound, “About 11 weeks,” she said to you, “Babe don’t you monitor your period?”

A hiccup laugh left you mouth, a shot of happiness spiked up your spine, “I’ve just been so busy, make sense with the weight gain. I just assumed it’s was the Reagan Sunday dinner.”

She pointed something out which took your breath away again, “Twins, Y/N, you’re having twins,” she pulled up the ultrasound, “It’s shitty timing for your first ultrasound, but here it is,” she gushed.

She printed out the picture and you just stared at it.

“Two,” you question again.

She wiped off your belly and smiled, “Damn right, go big or go home lovely,” your friend said. Everything was blank, you didn’t know what to say, you were so happy and yet so intimidated, “You’re going to be a great mom,” she said.

You nod, “Thanks, hey do me a favor don’t call Jai-,” you tried to finish before you heard his voice.

“Damn right she called me,” he shouted, “You should have called me,” cupped your cheek examining your face. You hid the picture behind you, shaking off Roxy. You didn’t want Jamie to find out this way, under these circumstances, “I’m going to ignore the fact that I’m freaking pissed for the moment, are you okay?”

You take Jamie’s hand away from you face and hold it tight, “I swear, I’m fine. I just want to get back to work.”

“Look at your face babe,” he whispered.

Everything was interrupted by the yelling voice of Danny from the hall, “You told the family,” you roll your eyes. You look at Roxy, “You are a tattle tale, you know that,” you point at her.

“Hey, I like them to remember times like this when I need help with a speeding ticket,” she smirked.

You saw Frank first, then Pop, and then Erin, “How you are doing Y/N,” Frank asked, “Need anything?”

“Yeah,” you point to the door, “Tell Danny to leave the young man alone, he has a mental illness and needs help. He’ll do his time for his crimes. And Danny is disrupting my hospital.”

“Y/N,” Jamie whines acting annoyed.

“What,” you shoot back. “If this was you, you’d be back on the street within an hour.”

“Okay,” Pop interrupts the argument about to start, “How about we all just focus on Y/N, she doesn’t need any fights or drama right now.”

Roxy stepped in again, “Boss just got back, he says you have to take a few days off and he’ll have to be the one to clear you for duty.”

“Alright, the verdicts in, Y/N your coming with us. We can continue this conversation after we are all calm down,” Erin shared, putting her hand on your knee, “We’ll leave you to get dressed and meet you out by the cars.”

Jamie looked at you, you could tell he felt pretty helpless. And you weren’t ready to break the news to him, not like this.

It’s been two days of laying around the house and having a Reagan take care of you at all time. You and Jamie haven’t spoken much because it usually ends up in an argument. It was a mixture of being treated like you were glass and the fact that you haven’t told Jamie about being pregnant.

It was Sunday evening and you were trying to help with dinner. Danny and Pop were trying to teach you some self-defense moves, but you didn’t pay much attention. You were stuffing your mouth with mashed potatoes when the conversation of your safety became the topic, “Y/N, it can’t hurt to take some self-defense classes.”

“It was one time,” you shoot back.

Jamie looked down at his food, “You tell me all the time that nurses and doctors get attacked, bit, and spit on. It’s not one-time thing.”

You clink your fork down, “If I was a man, would you be having this same conversation with me.”

“Yes,” all the men shout.

Slamming back your chair, you stomp, “Fine, let me go find some defense classes to make the poor men in this group feel better,” and you rush to the study.

Rather than stall, you remember a few of your friends take self defense classes. Within ten minutes, you are talking to the head of the hospital and having them offer a free six-week training for all staff for appropriate self-defense training. You rush back and sliding your chair back, “Happy, the hospital will be offering a six-week self-defense class to all staff who’d like to participate?”

You continue to eat, ignoring the amazement from the people around the room, “You were gone fifteen minutes,” Danny questioned, his tone shocked, “I’d hate to see what you can do in a day.”

“Ya’ll need peace and mind, I’m here to offer you solace in regards to my own safety,” you continue to eat a slice of cake you stole from the kitchen, “But know, I can only do it for so long.”

“Why,” one of the kids asked, “Don’t you want to do it until your good at it.”

“Well Sean, I’ve got another timeline to consider.”

It hit Frank and Erin first, a smile growing on their faces, “A timeline,” Jamie asked, “What haven’t you told me, I don’t know anything about a timeline?”

Sighing, you drop your fork full of cake to reach behind you to your purse. You were acknowledging this was not how you wanted to tell Jamie and the family, but you let your frustrations get the best of you and let you slip out the news. At this point, Danny and Pops were catching on, “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but family dinner makes sense.”

You pass him the picture, Erin is in near tears, “Really,” she asked stepping out of her seat. Nicky rushed around the table and hugged you tight.

“Watch the cake, pregnant lady and dessert will cause real pain and damage if someone gets between them,” you tried to watch Jamie’s reaction.

He continued to stare at the picture. Everyone was waiting for his reaction, “Is this,” he looked up at you, nearly looking like he was going to cry, “Is this, are there two,” he questioned.

“Twins,” Danny yelled, “Nice.”

Suddenly everyone was getting up, trying to congratulate us. But Jamie and you were sharing this moment together, “Yeah, I’m 11 weeks with twins.”

He jumped up, scooping you in his arms and twirling you around, “I love you so much.”

He put you down, staring at you and only you, “I love you too.”

Pops slapped him on the back and we finally acknowledged the rest of the family. There was a giant congratulations and a billion questions, but you didn’t expect anything different from the Reagans. Jamie held you hand tightly, “You know what this means,” Danny asked out loud to the group. “You got to start learning now before you-.”

Erin stepped in, “If you like breathing, I’d recommend you keep those thoughts in your head.”

“Smart woman,” you say to her, pointing your finger at Danny.

Jamie looked down at you again, “Just promise you’ll be careful,” he said.

“Always,” you kiss him, before reaching for more cake.

#oneshot #Blue Bloods #blue bloods fanfiction #blue blood imagines #Jamie Reagan #jamie reagan imagine #jamie reagan x reader

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lesetoilesfous · 3 years ago

Note

i dunno if they're open, but can i request from the kiss prompts, 30) kiss in the full moon, with NB!Handers? basically a Hawke who uses they/them pronouns, only goes by Hawke, and no specific descriptors or mentions of their sex? =)

Hey anon! I had way too much fun with this, thank you so much for the request!!! I really hope you like it. I am also going to be adding NB!Handers to my preferred pairings list specifically because of you :D <3

(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting Pairing: NB!Handers

Characters: NB!Hawke, Anders

Tags: modern AU, post All that Remains, reference to mental illness, reference to police violence, reference to abusive institutions (the Circle is really, really awful y'all), reference to gun violence, smoking, strong language, everyone's an adult here Anders is just broke (hence the bike)

Rating: Mature

“I knew I’d find you here.”

The Kirkwall marina is quiet and mostly empty - boatowners have retired below decks with the rise of the moon and stars, and the place is mostly closed to the public otherwise. Anders had seen Hawke’s jeep, first, when he’d padlocked his bike to the iron fence. Now, as the wind pulls ripples across the ink-black bay, he finds the person in question.

Hawke is wearing a heavy brown leather jacket covered in patches, their long brown hair wavy with the humidity and blown about in the wind. They’re sitting on a stone pillar near the pier, staring up at the wide full moon. It’s such a clear night that Anders can make out the craters on it, and it’s harder to see the stars in the immediate radius of the moon, which diffuses into silver rainbows in the dark. The ocean falls in soft sighs against the thin beach, and ahead of them the bay closes between two promontories, which are darker black against the deep blue night.

Hawke looks back at Anders at the same time as their mabari, Dog, lifts her great head, sandy ears pricking in his direction. Anders waves at them both, trying to rearrange his features into an expression that doesn’t show exactly how worried he is. Instead, he folds himself awkwardly to sit on a pillar beside Hawke. The stone is cold even through his jeans, and Anders can feel a hole working its way through his battered converse. He’ll worry about that tomorrow.

For a long moment, Hawke is quiet, and the two of them sit there in the dark, listening to the eerie rattle and creak of the boats in the Kirkwall marina. Then Hawke says, softly, “I didn’t think you’d come.”

Anders looks at them, but they’re still staring ahead at the bay, and the moonlight skidding silver over the water. Their nose is smooth and bumped a little with the scar of an old break. Their eyebrows are thick and dark, as are their eyelashes. Their brown eyes glitter in the starlight. They tuck a clump of wavy hair back behind their ear, which is braced by silver cuffs over the shell and a row of hoops along their earlobe. Anders breathes, and the air is so cold that it tastes sweet.

“You didn’t tell me you were going to be here.” He’s trying for a joke, but even Anders can hear the way it falls flat as he feels the smile plastered onto his lips slip a little.

Hawke looks at him, and their eyes are rich and dark and brown and beautiful. There are thumbnail bruises of purple sleeplessness beneath them, too. They speak again, hushed as if the pair of them were in a cathedral and not a car-park outside a half empty marina. “Still.”

Something in Anders’ chest lurches as the wind makes the trees and grass behind them hush a sighing chorus to the sea. He shrugs, and feels the awkwardness of it across his shoulders. He’d never eaten well, in the Circle, and his body as a result felt stretched out and distended: he wasn’t fat or muscular enough to pull off the broadness of his proportions, but ever since he’d hit puberty what food he could get just didn’t seem to stick. He pushes away the memories of old hunger and focuses on the present, instead. “Yeah, well, you’re an idiot.”

Hawke huffs a laugh then, one of their canines hooked a little in front of their other teeth. They look down at their hands, where their nails are chopped short and painted with haphazard, chipped black polish. “Maybe.” They bite the inside of their cheek, and swallow twice before they speak. “I just. Keep thinking that if I dream it hard enough I’ll be able to go back and save her. You know? Like I’ll figure it out, somehow. And this time I won’t be too late and -”

Hawke cuts themself off, blinking rapidly, their dark eyes brighter in the moonlight. Anders swallows the lump in his own throat, and the urge to lean across and squeeze their arm or something similarly saccharine. With a feeling like chewing on breaking glass, he forces himself to pull up his memories of the months following Karl. It’s difficult - most of that time is a blur spent flinching every time he saw a templar in kevlar. Too many nights spent waking up with the sound of a bullet in his head. Anders winds his fingers together, squeezing them tight enough to hurt to ground himself back in the present. He can feel Hawke’s dark eyes on him, their gaze questioning. Anders looks up instead at the moon, and calls himself a coward.

“After...After Karl I, couldn’t really think straight. For a while. I mean, not that I ever thought straight.” Anders tosses half a grin in Hawke’s direction, but they don’t smile back, just watch him, quietly. Listening. Anders always feels as if he doesn’t know what to do with all that attention. He isn’t really used to people respecting him when he speaks. He doesn’t want to waste it. He clenches his teeth, and the wind whispers over the back of his neck, pulling at the hair in his ponytail. “But, um. I didn’t really feel like I woke up until I... Let myself accept that this is just. What the world looks like now. Without him in it.” Anders’ eyes burn, and he blinks rapidly and hopes that Hawke doesn’t notice the way his breath hitches.

If they do, they don’t say anything, instead fishing a packet of cigarettes from their pocket, lighting one before offering him the pack. Anders takes it gratefully, slipping a cigarette between his lips and leaning forward for Hawke to light it. Their lighter has a bright, chipped progress flag on the casing, and Anders can’t help but find it reassuring, for all the cliche. The cigarette lights, and Anders breathes in deeply, savouring the warm ache of it and breathing out a long gust before he speaks again.

“It’s like. They were part of another chapter. And you’re already onto the next one. And you kind of, have to stop trying to go back to those pages, otherwise you’ll miss what’s happening in these ones.” Anders laughs, and scrubs at his cheeks, feeling the graze of his stubble and wishing he’d remembered to shave. “Sorry, that’s stupid.”

“No,” Hawke says, firmly, taking a drag of their own cigarette and breathing it out in a gust of smoke before they speak. “No, that makes sense.” They look at him sidelong, then, and when they blink a tear runs rapidly, silently down their tanned cheek. “I don’t know how to keep reading.”

Anders rests his hand against the stone he’s sitting on. It’s rough and cool. His eyes move from the great belly of the moon to the dusting of stars over the horizon, trying to trace the shapes of the constellations. “I think…” He says, slowly, sounding the words out as he says them, “It starts with this. With people you care about. Quiet places. Places where you feel like you can be everything you are and feel everything you’re feeling without holding it in. Places where you feel safe.”

Hawke shakes their head, and their hair falls over the shoulder of their jacket, catching on the ridges of their patches. “I don’t feel safe.”

Anders ignores the wrench in his chest at that, and takes another drag of his cigarette before he looks down to meet Hawke’s eyes. “You will.” Hawke holds his gaze for a long minute after he says it. Then they nod, once, and glance away, bringing the cigarette back up to their lips.

For a while they sit there in the quiet, smoking, peaceful. Dog has rested her head on her thick paws, and Hawke is careful to tap their ash far away from her. Eventually, the ever-present blur of memory and feeling at the back of Anders’ head threatens to overwhelm the silence, and he tugs his phone out of the pocket of his coat. It’s an old suede thing with feather detailing he’d got second hand. Isabela teases him about it, but it always makes him feel safer than anything else does. He figures that’s enough. Anders taps the cracked screen of his phone, blinking at the blue light. Hawke glances at him, their brown eyes almost black in the dark.

Anders tilts his phone screen at them. “Mind if I play some music?”

They blink, once, then nod, and take another drag on their cigarette. “Sure.”

Anders hits play with a sense of near physical relief, and the tinny, soft sound of some alt rock eases into the air between them. After three songs Anders has finished his cigarette. After four, Hawke has finished theirs. For a moment, they sit there, unmoving and terribly still. Anders sits forward, feeling the weight of his phone shift in his pocket as he does so. “How are you feeling now?”

They offer him a shadow of a smile, heavy coat and baggy jeans disguising long lines of wiry muscle that Anders couldn’t forget if he tried. “Better. Anders?”

“Yes?” Anders wishes he didn’t feel as much like a heroine in some silent film, but Hawke always seems to have that effect on him. They make him feel like some damsel in need of saving. They make him want to be a hero.

Hawke’s lips curl up into a crooked smile that creases the corners of their eyes. “Thanks. For coming out here.”

Anders shrugs and lies. “It’s nothing.” When Hawke snorts, he goes on, grinning, “No, really. What else was I going to be doing? Now my friend, on the other hand. This poor sap is opening his free clinic at 5am this morning which…” Anders gets out his phone, tapping the home button. “Is in about three hours. Now that idiot, him, yeah, I’d feel sorry for. But luckily neither of us know anyone so masochistic.”

Hawke huffs a laugh, their voice rough and climbing into a giggle as they squeeze their eyes shut, scrubbing at their cheeks. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” They say it with a smile.

Anders tilts his head, and tries to ignore the warmth that flushes through his chest whenever Hawke looks at him like that. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”

Hawke shrugs, and pushes their hair back over their shoulders, moving so that they’re facing him, their legs spread wide and their jacket hanging loose over a white t-shirt. They look up at Anders boldly. “You’re my idiot.”

Anders’ flush pushes its way up into his cheeks and on into his ears, the cold of the early morning forgotten in the way that Hawke is staring at him. “Really? I must have missed the memo…”

“Anders,” Hawke’s voice is soft, and as they speak they rest their hand on Anders’ cheek. Their skin is soft and cold with the night air, and Anders leans into it as if he’s lost at sea and their touch is the only thing keeping him from drowning. It takes him too long to unstick his tongue from the roof of his dry mouth.

“Yes?”

Hawke smiles at him, warm and soft and indulgent, and their thumb strokes gently across his cheek as they lean forward. “Stop talking.” Their breath is warm as it blows across his lips, and smells faintly of cigarettes. And then they’re leaning even closer, and they’re kissing him. Their lips are soft and taste like cherry chapstick, and Anders doesn’t care as they tilt their head, the scar on their nose scratching softly against his skin, the warmth of their breath filling his lungs. Hawke licks into his mouth with a hunger that feels like burning, and Anders opens for them, lifting his hands to cradle their head and pull them closer, his fingers tangling in their thick, soft hair. Anders’ heart feels as if it’s going to beat its way out of his chest and that’s meaningless against the way the world is spinning, every inch of him lost except the point where his cheeks brush Hawke’s, where his chin bumps theirs, where their lips move to lock and loosen around his own as they move.

When they pull back, Anders isn’t sure he remembers how breathing works. But they grin at him, and their eyes are silver in the moonlight when they lean forward to bump their foreheads together, cradling the back of his head. Sighing, they shut their eyes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Anders breathes, and swallows, lips wet and sore with the force of their kiss, wrists resting loosely on Hawke’s strong shoulders. Above them, the moon is bright and full and beautiful. Anders tries to speak past the lump in his throat. “Do it again?”

Hawke looks up at him, and their eyes are almost black in the dark. Then they kiss him.

#nb!handers #dadwc #nb!hawke #anders #my fic #da2 #anon

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zettabita · 4 years ago

Text

RIVALS: Spark I

Rivals Master List

hi guys! ok so this is becoming more action than romance lmao I promise next time ill make it...fluffier...?

I need to get this story out of my head HAHAHAH so I’ll just keep writing. :D In this chapter, you might be a lil OP but thats ok bc you’re amazing irl <3

————————-

a masaki ichijou x fem reader fic

Genre: action, romance Warnings: mild swearing Word count: 2.2k+

Previous: Thunder

————————-

You really didn’t see what was coming when Saegusa-senpai pulled you into a discussion room the night before your first Ice Pillar Break match. You were meandering about the hotel, you see, trying to get rid of your pre-event jitters. You were inspecting the vending machine (Why doesn’t this have milk tea?) at the end of the corridor when Saegusa-senpai suddenly popped out from nowhere and urged you to follow her into a room full of very intimidating Third year students and an expectant Tatsuya.

The first thing that crossed your mind when Juumonji-senpai told you in that room that you were chosen to substitute for Monolith Code was the horrible image of you tripping over a rock in the middle of a battlefield. The second thing was how you were so unlucky that the first year they allowed girls to compete in Monolith Code and increased the number of members on a team was your year (but hey, hooray for gender equality.)

Not wanting to embarrass your school, you tried to put up a good fight. But what about Miyuki, you said. They said that she had two events already and Tatsuya scrunched his face a little bit at the idea. But I don’t have combat experience, you said. They said that Monolith Code, a glorified, no-contact capture-the-flag-with-magic contest, isn’t really live combat and your skills were needed in the team Tatsuya was forming. Not wanting to further bother the scary Third years who looked like they were getting more impatient by the second, you grimly added “not get stomped on at Monolith Code” to your Nine Magic Schools Competition to-do list (At the top of your list was “melt a lot of ice”, which you would later tick off in your Ice Pillar Break match with Mutsuba-san the next day.)

And that’s how you found yourself standing in front of a black pillar in the middle of an open field with Tatsuya Shiba, Leonhard Saijou, and Mikihito Yoshida at the Monolith Code finals, trying in vain to gulp down your nervousness.

At the far end of the field, you see four figures in dark red armor. They had one girl fidgeting more nervously than you were (It was somehow comforting.) You eye the tallest one, the one with the brownish-red hair tucked underneath the helmet before closing your eyes.

“We need you to counter Ichijou Masaki.” Tatsuya says, almost apologetically.

You almost spat out your drink from the hotel minibar. “You need me to do what?!” (You panic now, but years later, you thank Tatsuya for his decision. Masaki thanks him too.) You were hanging out in your room with your teammates and a few First-year friends, discussing combat styles and strategies for the coming matches in a few days.

Tatsuya sighs as Leo and Mikihito stare at him incredulously. “It will be difficult, but I need to shut down Futatsugi Kei. I can’t do that while also facing off against Ichijou Masaki. At the very least, you have to buy me some time.” You pause to think. Futatsugi Kei was another Third High School ace from a Master Clan. It was absolutely criminal for him, the Crimson Prince, and Cardinal George to be on the same Monolith Code team.

But then again, Ichijou Masaki was also in a weight class of his own. Or so they say. “But why me?”

“It’s actually one of the reasons why I chose you. The Ichijou clan specializes in medium to long range bombardment. That would make it difficult for Leo and Mikihito,” Tatsuya gestured to the two, “to take him on from a distance with their specialities. But you can.”

Before you could even reply, Erika chimes in from the other side of the room. “And you’re a girl!”

The four of us gaze at her curiously. You ask, “What does that have to do with anything?”

Erika flashes me a wide grin. “You’re a girl, so he’ll hesitate going all-out. Right?” She looks to the boys for confirmation.

“I don’t know if I should be happy about that…” you say as Leo lights up in realization. “Oh, yeah! Old-fashioned types like Master Clans people will probably underestimate you, ” Leo blushes slightly and pauses, realizing the implications of his words, “uh, which is, you know, really unfair, but maybe you could use that to your advantage?”

Tatsuya and Mikihito nod in agreement. “Yes. It’s possible for us to construct a strategy around that,” Tatsuya adds.

You press your fingers to your temple in a gesture of defeat. “Okay. I’ll think of something. But I don’t think my defense will hold…”

Tatsuya reaches into his inner coat pocket. “And there’s another reason why I chose you.” His lips curl into a rare smile and hands me a silver gun-shaped CAD. “Come on. I’m going to teach you Gram Demolition.”

“(L/N)-san.” Tatsuya calls. You open your eyes without looking at him. “Are you ready?” He asks in a low voice. He was obviously most concerned about your state, given that you were the unlucky one to throw down with one of the best first-year magicians around.

You feel for the CADs in your holsters and pull up your glove, your magic talisman, on your left hand. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You think back to your first Monolith Code match with Eighth this morning. You did well, taking to the battlefield easily and readily, but you haven’t shown the world your new spell that was learned in a few late-night crash courses with Tatsuya. Gram Demolition, a potent close-range Counter Magic spell, wasn’t a complicated technique, you learned. You only had to have a crazy high Psion count to cast it. It just so happens you had a lot more than most.

You sigh and go over your magic repertoire in your head for the last time. You do your best to ignore your heart beating annoyingly fast in your chest, sharpen your focus, and lock your eyes on that self-assured red-haired magician standing directly across from you on the field. Masaki Ichijou—your rival for the day.

And with a screech of a faraway siren, the match begins.

Tatsuya sprints, two CAD pistols in his hand, legs pumping quickly underneath him as he aims at Futatsugi. The air shifts as the other two spread out behind you. Masaki, on the other, strides confidently forward and begins to cast a spell aimed at Tatsuya.

Not him, me, you think to yourself in a split-second. You send a barrage of lightning bolts in Masaki’s direction, the intensity of your thought coloring the strength of your magic, and he deflects it just in time. He turns to you and you see a small smile plastered on his…admittedly handsome face. Smug bastard. You take a quick glance to your left and see Tatsuya engage in a shootout with that Futatsugi character.

Your eyes dash back to your opponent. Masaki raises his two pistols and a few Activation Sequences form around you quickly. Air Bullet: a round of compressed air and Masaki’s go-to spell in this competition (You’ve watched a few replays of his matches. Never can be too careful with a guy who’s killed a bunch of Russians when he was 13.) Strong, but easy to dismantle. Show time. You blast them away cleanly one by one with your newly-learned Gram Demolition technique and counter with your powered-up version of Thunder Child. Masaki’s smile fades and his eyes widen as he puts out a defensive spell, averting the paralyzing effect of your offense. At the edge of your vision, you notice the other Third opponents shoot you a shocked glance.

Masaki regains his composure in an instant. The two of you walk towards each other, pistols raised in a magic gunfight. Lightning and Activation Sequences form and disintegrate around the both of you within seconds, drawing you in, encircling the both of you in a beautiful but deadly light show. (It lit up his face the same way it would the first time he took you to see fireworks at the pier in Kanazawa.) You manage to slip in a few lightning bolts in between shots of Gram Demolition, making him sidestep occasionally, but you were basically locked in a stalemate.

Now or never. You break your solid stance and run towards him, catching him off-guard. For a second, he pauses, and you press the attack, nearly hitting him with a low-voltage lightning bolt.

The Crimson Prince must’ve felt the heat quite literally. He flinched at the heat and the close sound of air expanding rapidly like miniature thunder, and, with a flick of his wrist, a dozen Activation Sequences suddenly surrounded you, threatening to let loose. Oh my God, this jerk’s trying to kill me. You catch the horrified expression on his face (his move was a violation of the rules, after all) before you blast away one, four, then seven in a moment, going beyond what you thought you could, and then you take out a few more. You feel the hotness from a nearby explosion. You internally scream at your body to catch up and obliterate the remaining Sequences.

And then, when you’d just were a couple of paces from him, just within range of a lightning bolt, one air bullet hits the ground next to you. The world to your left erupts in a hot flash and the ground simply bursts, soil surging up into the air. You let out a yelp of pain and dive away from the blast.

“And that’s the plan. Do you think the illusion will hold?” You focus on your outstretched hand, gathering Psions and then destroying Tatsuya’s attempt at a spell, the glow from the attempt lighting up his figure in the darkened training field not far from the hotel. Your Gram Demolition was still imperfect, but it was getting there: you had proceeded from mildly inconveniencing Activation Sequences last night to outright blowing them away this evening.

Tatsuya furrows his eyebrows in mild disapproval as he prepares to cast another one. “At your level, it should.” Another Activation Sequence forms before you and you blast it away easily. “Still...a lot of things could go wrong with that. Are you sure, using yourself as bait?”

You shrug. “You would be too busy to help me. And… to be honest, I don’t think I have a chance at fighting him head-on for too long. So I’m doing what you guys suggested. Using a little psychology.” You grin as you take down a couple of Sequences from Tatsuya near-perfectly. “After all, who wouldn’t panic if they thought they hurt a cute girl?”

You just didn’t expect him to try to kill said cute girl, even if it was an accident. You lie face down in the dirt. Your ears were ringing and your head throbbed irritatingly. Thank goodness your helmet had tough glass or you’d be eating mud by now. A thick mist that looks like dust and steam emanates from the palm of your glove-covered hand and envelops the surrounding area, hiding you from view. You raise your head slightly to look around at it. Your smoke version of Magical Mist, a spell that creates a thick fog, looked a bit unnatural, but it should do. A destroyed CAD, an attempt at a defense spell, a weird natural phenomenon: what created the mist shouldn’t matter, because the opponent should be panicking either way. You take another second to lie on the grass, CADs clutched in your hands, hurting all over from the dive, and then you waited.

You knew that Masaki was just at the edge of the smoke, probably freaking out at the prospect that he killed a girl and a foreign exchange student at First High (Later on, you learn he already had been practicing how to apologize to your country’s government for your death. The nervous wreck.) You knew he would be too busy reviewing his previous steps to see if the excessive force he used would be enough to kill you and definitely too busy to notice that his opponent was very much still alive and kicking. You listen for a rustle of grass or a shuffle of armor.

After a quiet moment of passing wind and the faraway sounds of magic from your teammates’ own battles, you hear it: a step back, the ground crunching underneath a foot. You raise yourself from the ground quickly and throw your CAD in the direction of the sound. It was a good throw: high and far, the gun spinning away from view in a clean trajectory. More importantly, it was a good distraction at a magic-only battle. At almost the same time, you sprint and emerge from the smoke and into the light.

You swear the world moved in slow motion in that instant. Masaki Ichijou stood there a few feet from you, pistols lowered, his head turned in the direction of the CAD you threw. He feels the air shift when you emerge and he turns to you slowly, his emerald eyes glinting in the light, his mouth gaped open in surprise. He raises an arm instinctively, probably activating his defenses, but you already cast the final blow: Spark. A seemingly simple spell that creates a small electric discharge but is enough to paralyze an opponent.

As you did, you couldn’t help but flash the Crimson Prince a shameless smile from ear to ear. I win, you wanted to say. He looked on—you couldn’t understand the expression on his face—as he fell to his knees, electricity crackling around him. Far away, the crowd erupts in loud cheers.

Months later, Masaki tells you that that smile was what made him fall desperately in love with you.

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hope the way you beat him wasn’t too far-fetched lmao. thanks for reading! <3

#mahouka #ichijou masaki #masaki ichijou #masaki ichijo #tatsuya shiba #Mahouka Koukou No Rettousei #irregular at magic high school #the irregular at magic high school #irregular #xreader

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years ago

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Hi :) I... really wanna read a fanfic or two but I can't find one I vibe with xD So... do you know one that's not too long (around 100k words maybe), has hurt and comfort, smut (am I allowed to ask about that?? Ahhhh) and a happy ending? Top!lock would be a bonus but it's not necessary. And if it's a nice AU (like... any kind but no crossovers pls), it would be perfect! :D By the way, I found your blog only a few hours ago and I already feel really comfy and Idk, kinda at home here ^-^

Hi Nonny!!!

Welcome to my corner of the Tumblrsphere!!! I’m so happy you’ve found me, LOL, because I love all my followers and friends! <3

First of all, I think it’s super cute that “not too long” to you is “around 100K” LOL LOL LOL!!! <3 That said, I’d argue all my fic recs are fabulous, LOL. But again, I’m stupidly proud of the wonderful lists I’ve accumulated, because it satisfies my organization kink LOL. And yes, you’re ALWAYS allowed to ask for smut here LOL.

ANYWAY, so I’m gonna use this ask as an excuse to post up a long-overdue part two to my 50 to 100K fic list! But first, here’s some past lists for the genres you’re looking for:

FIC MASTER PAGES: PG1 || PG 2 || PG 3

Toplock (Mar 2020)

Omegaverse

Please Check PG 3 for all my AU fic lists. There’s a lot :)

Hurt / Comfort Pt. 1: Under 5K Words

Hurt / Comfort Pt. 2: 5K to 10K Words

Fandom Favourites / Popular Fics

I hope those will get you started! So now, here’s the main event!! Hope you enjoy them!

50 - 100 K WORDS Pt. 2 (Novel Length)