#shock value wears off immediately

[j-psilas]

Will we ever get anything quite like Code Geass again?

I don't think it's possible.

Code Geass is Japanese nationalist propaganda disguised as a global political drama, disguised as a military mecha show, disguised as yaoibait, disguised as a teen melodrama, disguised as a high school romcom, disguised as a Pizza Hut commercial...

...except those layers aren't layers at all, but are instead comingled in a giant snake ball of insanity.

The lead writer, Ichirō Ōkouchi, only ever worked as an episode writer for other shows prior to Code Geass, and never took the helm of an anime series ever again. And it shows. [EDIT: Several people have pointed out his other lead writing credits to me. So I misread Wikipedia—sue me. I maintain that this guy is a better episode writer than he is a lead writer.]

The minute-to-minute pacing is impeccable from a mechanical standpoint, with tension and stakes rising to ever-higher peaks, balanced out by the slow simmers of the b-plot and c-plot. It keeps the viewer on the edge of their seat at all times. Meanwhile, the large-scale plot is the most off-the-wall middle school nonsense I've ever seen, continually surprising the viewer by pulling twists too dumb to have ever have been on their radar—and therefore more effective in terms of raw shock value.

"Greenlight it!" was the mantra of this anime's production. It must have been. It has, in no particular order, all of the following:

Character designs from CLAMP, the foremost yaoi/BL group in Japan at the time—for characters who are only queer insofar as they can bait the audience, and only straight insofar as they can be more misogynist to the female cast.

Speaking of the female cast, hoo boy the fanservice. We've all seen anime girls breast boobily, with many cases more egregious than Code Geass, but there's something special about it happening immediately after—or sometimes in the middle of!—scenes of military conflict and ethnic cleansing.

Pizza Hut product placement everywhere, in every conceivable situation. High-speed chases, light slice-of-life scenes, intimate character moments, all of it. Gotta have Pizza Hut.

The anime-only Pizza Hut mascot, Cheese-kun. He wears a fedora.

The most hilarious approximations of European names—which I would love to see more often, frankly. Names like, I dunno, "Count Schnitzelgrübe zi Blanquezzio."

A depiction of China that is wholly removed from any modern reality, with red-and-gold pagodas, ornamental robes, scheming eunuchs, and a brainwashed child empress. There's a character named General Tsao, like the chicken.

Inappropriate free-form jazz in the soundtrack, intruding at the most unexpected times.

A secret cabal not unlike the Illuminati, run by an immortal shota with magic powers, holding influence all across the world, at the highest levels of government. They matter for approximately three episodes.

An unexpected insert scene of a schoolgirl using the corner of a table to masturbate. She's doing it to thoughts of her crush, the princess Euphemia—because she believes Euphemia to be as racist as she herself is, and that gets her off. This interrupts an unrelated scene of our protagonist faction planning their next move, which then resumes as if uninterrupted.

Said schoolgirl, in a fit of hysteria, threatens to detonate a worse-than-nuclear bomb in the middle of her school. She then goes on to develop an even more destructive version of that bomb, and become a war criminal, in a chain of cause-and-effect stemming from the moment she finds out that Euphemia wasn't actually that racist.

A character called "the Earl of Pudding."

A premise that asks us to believe that the name Lelouch is normal enough that he didn't need to change it when he went into hiding as an ordinary civilian. "No, that's not Prince Strimbleford von Vanquish! That's our classmate, Strimbleford Smith."

The collective unconscious, a la Carl Jung, within which the protagonist fights his villainous father for control over the fate of humankind. After this is over, the anime just keeps going for about ten more episodes.

An episode in which a mech tosses a giant pizza.

A gay yandere sleeper agent who can manipulate the perception of time.

Chess being played very badly, even to the untrained eye. Lelouch frequently checkmates his opponent by moving his king. This goes hand-in-hand with the anime's crock of bad chess symbolism.

A fictional drug that can most succinctly be described as "nostalgia heroin."

Roller-skating mecha in knightly armor, and some of the most sickass mecha fight choreography that I've seen.

I could go on and on, but I think you get the picture. This anime is what the average Westerner in 2006 thought anime was, and it was made in a confluence of factors that cannot be replicated. I've never had so much fun watching something that I found so... insulting. Repugnant. Ridiculous. Baffling. I love it sincerely.

Catch me cosplaying Lloyd Asplund at a con sometime, or maybe even the big gay loser himself, Lelouch vi Britannia.

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when you take off your promise ring in the middle of an argument

Mark Lee

Once Mark saw that you left your ring on the dining table, he'll be very confused. Sure you two had an argument earlier but it wasn't enough for you to take off your ring. There's still a lot of unsolved arguments between the two of you and he doesn't want to add more to it just because you removed your promise ring. That's why instead, he'll ignore it and give you space. 

Huang Renjun

Renjun will be ANGRY if he saw the ring laying on the floor. He feels like you broke your promise to him and didn't value the ring he gave to you. He'll storm to you mad and will confront you. Another fight will be created and now it's because of the ring. It'll go on until you two eventually break out and lower one's pride to apologize. 

Lee Jeno

Jeno notices that the ring is on the corner of the kitchen sink. He's used to you removing it whenever you cook or wash the dishes and there's no day where after you do your chores, you wear the ring immediately. Maybe you just forgot to wear it again, maybe. Jeno thinks, that's why he'll pick up the ring and approach you even though you are giving him the silent treatment. He'll carefully grab your hand, place the ring there, and leave. 

Lee Donghyuck

Donghyuck will be in shock when you suddenly threw him your ring while you two are in the middle of an argument. He'll be frozen when the silver band went to his face and you stormed out of the room mad. His heart will start beating out of nervous because of what happened and will eventually go to you and apologize. 

Na Jaemin

It was a huge argument, and for once no one wants to apologize first. When Jaemin noticed that the promise ring he gave to you rest idly in your jewelry box, he knew that the argument affected you big time. Jaemin wanted to resolve the argument but he knows that his emotions are still getting in his way, that's why he will choose to ignore it even though it breaks his heart to see the ring inside the jewelry box.

Zhong Chenle

He'll be angry when he saw your ring finger empty. Chenle will ask you where is it even though you two aren't supposed to be talking to each other. You'll ignore him until to the point where he has to search the whole house for the ring, and when he sees the ring, he'll return to you and will wear the ring to you. "We're not in good terms, but don't ever take off the ring." he said in a serious tone. 

Park Jisung

Poor baby will be hurt to see you remove the ring in front of him and even give it to him. He'll be confused as to what to do with the ring but because the argument was something serious, and you two agreed to have a cool-off, he'll keep the ring until you two are okay enough to fix your relationship. :<

[nothorses]

"kill them with kindness. wrong. [x] attack" memes are going to be the fastest to get old because there's so so so little room for variation to begin with.

you have one subversive option to mix things up and it is real shocking violence ("wrong. gun attack") and once the shock value wears off that one (which will happen immediately) it's over.

listen. you can still enjoy this. but I'm bored already and I need you to understand that it's not because Meme Death Is Too Fast Nowadays it's because this one's just not meant for reiteration.

[bountycancelled]

how bada would handle being in public with her s/o

requested: yep!

genre + content: headcanons, gn!reader, me being delusional, lower case intended (I'm annoying, I know and im sorry), unedited because I can't be bothered

warnings: none i believe, just fluff!

I still don't really understand the term, but I think I could describe a romantic relationship with bada as 'private but not a secret.'

she wouldn't want to keep you a secret, but she's also aware of the strife being in the public eye can cause, so how much/how little she reveals about the relationship is completely up to you.

and believe me, she tries so hard to keep her mouth shut about you, but sometimes it proves a bit too difficult.

hell, your relationship being revealed to the public was a complete and utter accident. bada was on instagram live as usual, and one of the comments had asked her for a tmi. she thought for a moment, before remembering that you had gifted her the very hoodie that she was wearing.

bada didn't even notice the comments going absolutely batshit at the mention of her having a partner, too focused on how much the hoodie smelled like you.

cue a now wide eyed bada watching a myriad of comments shocked at her statement fly in at lighting speed, as she slowly realises what she just said.

you bet your ass that she ended the live at that moment, entering to your shared apartment and flopping onto you immediately, squeezing any part of you that her hands could reach, she needed the comfort right now. when you ask her what happened, she begs you to promise to not get upset (which can't be promised but you do it anyway to ease her mind)

she realises a statement of sorts on her instagram, asking for the respect of her fans for your relationship and turns off her phone after posting it, cuddling with you and trying to sleep the day away.

from then on, you and bada start going out together more frequently, since you're no longer so well hidden anymore, you might as well enjoy this new found freedom. fans and paparazzi being outside of any location that bada is in is a given, but its still alot for you to take in.

bada always has a hand on you when you're out together, she just needs to know that you're close and that you're okay. whether it be a hand a hand on your waist or shoulders, a hand around your wrist or holding yours, it eases her. but she prefers you walking in front of her so she can have you in her vision also so she can check you out, two birds, one stone

call her a bit possessive (and you'd be correct) but she also likes when you wear something of hers over your outfit when you're in public, like a hoodie or a jacket.

as for interviews, she mentions you passively, usually by accident once again. but she will never take the bait if an interviewer tries to pry into the deeper parts of your relationship. she values intimacy with you far too much.

overall, your relationship is sacred to bada, and she earnestly tries to keep it under wraps as much as possible, although she may not be the best at that, since she also desperately wants to show you off. so basically, you get the best of both worlds.

[pupuyvs]

38

Jihye breathed out once again as she stood in front of Chaewon’s house, more so mansion, door.

“You are a bad bitch now,” she whispered to herself, “bad bitches don’t get nervous.” She has been saying this mantra over and over again for the past 3 minutes, trying to work herself up to knock on the door.

As she raises her hand to finally do it, the door opens revealing Chaewon, who was clearly amused and slightly weirded out.

The mantra immediately slipped her mind at the sight of the other girl, she forgot just how pretty Chaewon was.

“Are you just going to keep standing there or?…”

Jihye blushed, ashamed she was caught. “My bad, can I come in?”

Chaewon nodded before stepping to the side to let the other girl in. As soon as Jihye stepped in she knew she had greatly underestimated just how rich the cheerleader actually was.

See, she knew Chaewon was dirty rich, everyone in school did, her parents owned properties in nearly every continent, their house was a literal mansion spanning for what seemed miles. But it wasn’t until Jihye walked in to see a chandelier half her size hanging above a fountain in the entryway, that she realized she could never truly conceptualize someone being this rich.

The longer she took in every detail of the foyer, the more uncomfortable she began to feel. Jihye felt herself start to stiffen, any bravery she felt earlier was gone, how could she feel brave when she felt she was bringing down the value of the house by just breathing in it.

Before she could spiral even more she was pulled out of her thoughts by a pair of slippers hitting her foot.

“Wear these, my mom hates shoes on the floor when they’re freshly polished.”

Jihye nods as she slips off her used Converse and puts on the fresh, clearly new, slippers.

“Where should I put my shoes?”

Chaewon looks at the girl, amused before pointing to the shoe stand by the door.

“Right,” Jihye says bashfully.

While putting her shoes in one of the cubbies she catches a glimpse of her slippers and furrows her eyebrows, “Are these…Chanel?…”

Looking up from her newly done acrylics, she looks at the slippers before simply nodding.

“Right, cool.”

Chaewon sighed, “Are we just going to continue standing here or?…”

“No, sorry, where's the pc?”

Without saying anything Chaewon started walking up one of the stairways causing Jihye to rush to follow her.

As they passed by door after door Jihye could feel the discomfort make its way back up.

Distracted, Jihye doesn’t notice Chaewon stopping, causing her to bump into her.

Quickly stepping back, she whispers a sorry. Chaewon doesn’t say anything as she opens a door. “This is my sister’s room, she’s the one with the…whatever you called it.”

Jihye nods as she steps in, immediately she walks to the desk and attempts to turn the computer on. She furrows her eyebrows slightly when nothing happens. She gets down, under the desk, to check the wires and becomes even more confused when she notices it's not even plugged in. Before she can plug it back in, Chaewon speaks, causing her to jump up and bump her head on the desk.

“So Jihye, are you seeing anyone?”

Bumping her head once more from shock as she quickly gets out from under the desk, hand rubbing the back of her head, she looks at Chaewon once she stands, “What?”

“Are you seeing anyone,” Chaewon asks again, this time making eye contact with Jihye.

Feeling shy, Jihye immediately sits down in the computer chair and turns its so she's no longer facing the girl.

“No, I’m not,” she says as she turns the computer on, this time successfully.

“Not even that Heejin girl?”

“Heejin? No, we’re just friends on Twitter.”

She hears the other hum as the computer finally loads, Jihye clicks on the first user she sees, relieved that there is no password.

As she starts to search the computer for any issues Chaewon starts again, “I just find it hard to believe you really don’t have anyone, I mean even Natty seems interested.”

Jihye clears her throat, “Does she? I haven’t even noticed.”

She doesn’t see the wide smile that takes over Chaewon’s face when she hears that, she also doesn’t see Chaewon purposely get closer to the chair.

“You haven’t?”

Jihye stiffens once more when she hears how close Chaewon is now, “No.”

“That’s good.”

The taller girl doesn’t respond, instead she grips the mouse tighter and continues to search the computer, after a few moments she turns the chair to face Chaewon backing up when she sees just how close the girl is.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s actually perfect.”

Chaewon nods slightly before putting a hand on both armrests and leaning down so she could be face to face with the girl, “I know,” she simply states.

Jihye gulps, inhaling the faint scent of vanilla, she lets out a shaky breath, “Then why?…”

Chaewon simply glances down at her lips before licking her own and starting to lean in.

“Chaewon what-”

Before anything can happen, the door opens revealing a tall, but young looking girl.

“Ewww Chae, what are you doing in my room?”

Chaewon backs away with a groan, while Jihye lets out a sigh of relief.

What the fuck is happening?

Chaewon rolled her eyes for what must’ve been the 20th time that day. Just an hour ago she was about to kiss the nerd she’s had her eyes on for about a month, now she’s sitting on a bean bag in her sister’s gaming room as they, her sister and Jihye, play some stupid game together.

She knows it was probably for the best that they got interrupted since she was moving quite fast, but could anyone blame Chaewon.

She was born and raised rich, whatever she wanted she would get, and what she wants is Jihye so forgive her for not taking things slowly. The truth is she wasn’t even planning on attempting to kiss Jihye when she invited her over, she simply wanted to see if she could stand to be in the same proximity as her, ask if she was single, not that that would’ve stopped her if she wasn’t, and maybe even tease her a bit.

But stupid, dumb, cute, attractive Jihye showed up looking cute in her stupid letterman, that Chaewon definitely is planning to steal when, not if because she will make sure it happens, they get together. The feeling of want only got worse when she was so clearly nervous entering her house, but what really set her off was the girl's voice.

Chaewon never knew she could be attracted to a voice, she never was before with Yena or Yeonjun, but Jihye’s voice had a slight rasp to it and was on the deeper side, when she first spoke Chaewon knew she had to have her to herself.

“You’re cheating!”

Chaewon brought her eyes up to see her sister, Eunchae, throw her controller down while Jihye laughed, causing Chaewon's heart to embarrassingly flutter.

“How could I be cheating, we are on your Switch. Are you saying you have cheats installed on this?”

Eunchae gasped, “What- Are you accusing ME of cheating?”

Jihye pretended to think for a bit before nodding, “Yeah, I am!”

Before Eunchae could argue back, Jihye's phone started to ring. Quickly taking it out of her pocket to look at the caller, she winced once she saw who it was.

“I gotta take this, I’ll be right back, don’t add anymore cheats while I’m gone,” she says as she walks out the room, Eunchae quickly sticking her tongue out at her.

As soon as the door closed Chaewon turns to Eunchae, “You’re ruining everything.”

Eunchae rolled her eyes, “What are you even talking about? Did you forget you were the one in my room?”

Chaewon groaned lightly, maybe pretending that Eunchae’s computer needed a fix wasn’t the smartest idea.

“Plus, Jihye’s too cool for you, go back to losers like Yena or whatever.”

Chaewon glared, “Too cool? Seriously?”

The younger nodded, “Absolutely.”

Chaewon didn’t bother with a response; she was not going to go back and forth with her 16 year old sister about her love life.

They both turned their heads when the door opened again only to see Jihye with a disappointed look, “That was my sister, I need to go pick her up.”

Both Kim sisters groan, both for very different reasons. “I was just about to beat you.”

Jihye laughs, “Sure you were. How about this, I’ll add you when I get home and we’ll go against each other later.”

Eunchae nods happily, clearly okay with the deal.

Chaewon stands as Jihye goes to leave the room again, “I’ll walk you out.”

Jihye shakes her head, “You don’t have to, I’m sure there's other things you have to do.”

“Yeah, like yelling at Yeonjun,” Eunchae adds, earning another glare from Chaewon.

“I don’t, come on.”

With that Chaewon walks out leaving Jihye to wave one last time at Eunchae before following the other.

When they reached the front door Jihye carefully slipped off the expensive home slippers. Holding them in her hand she looked at Chaewon, “Where should I put them?”

“Take them.”

Jihye looked at her with disbelief, “Take them? These are Chanel.”

“I know that,” Chaewon started, “My mom is ordering new house slippers from Frette.”

“Right, of course.”

Jihye didn’t say anything after that, she quickly changed into her Converse and turned to Chaewon.

“Before I leave I wanted to thank you for planning the date for my sister and Yizhuo, I’ve been wanting them to get together for a bit so it's cool you thought of that.”

Chaewon nodded, “No problem, thanks for coming to fix my sister’s thing, and then playing with her. Though I really hoped to get you alone.”

“Oh, maybe next time we can hang,” Jihye says as she opens the door and steps out.

Chaewon smiled, she got her right where she wanted her, “Sounds like a date then.” Before Jihye could respond Chaewon closed the door.

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[gabrielleyueerrrrr]

What led to Showdown—a character analysis

Summary:

Chosen was the one who initiated the rampages after he and Dark escaped the PC.

Dark created the Virabot in an attempt to please Chosen.

I firmly believe that the names of the hollowheads shaped their personality to some extent. The name "The Chosen One" not only bestowed god- like powers upon the black hollowhead but also a instilled a sense of responsibility, strong self-esteem, and a drive to fight for what is right.

Upon his creation, he immediately rebelled against Alan, seeing the animator as "evil" for creating and torturing stick figures just for fun. Five years of enslavement didn’t wear down his spirit, the moment the slightest opportunity arose, he broke free from his shackles and unleashed his fury upon the PC.

But even when victory was within his grasp, with his tormentor's pawn, The Dark Lord, trembling powerlessly before him, he still chose mercy.

I believe his sense of responsibility and justice wouldn’t allow him to harm someone who was already defenseless, even if that person was his enemy.

I couldn't imagine someone with such a strong moral compass initiating or even agreeing to participate in rampages on the internet purely for the sake of destruction and vengeance. A more reasonable explanation is that Chosen initiated these attacks due to a warped sense of justice. The mistreatment by his creator, the only human he ever knew, might have led him to believe that all humans are tyrants who abuse and exploit stick figures. As "The Chosen One," he felt a responsibility to fight on behalf of his own kind, believing it was his duty to deliver well-deserved punishment upon humans.

But as for Dark, he had no interest in justice whatsoever, he went along with Chosen purely for the thrill of it. Contrary to "The Chosen One", the name "The Dark Lord" weakened his sense of morality and empathy(a sociopath, in a sense). This doesn’t mean he was incapable of learning to be good or sympathetic, though. Chosen simply didn’t realize Dark's moral deficiency until it was too late.

(Or perhaps Chosen was in denial? Dark was his best friend after all)

As time passed, Chosen became more aware of the complexity of mankind. He realized that not all humans were evil, some even formed positive connections with stick figures, like building websites where they could live and work. By attacking the internet and destroying these sites, he was inadvertently harming those he wanted to protect. This made him hesitant and forced him to rethink his actions.

But Dark, he didn't care. Humans, stick figures, animations, it's all the same to him. He enjoyed causing harm and destruction, because it was fun, because he couldn't see that it was wrong.

Imagine Dark laughing joyously as he hurled fireballs at the screaming, retreating crowd of stick figures and animations,

but when he turn around he saw Chosen's shocked, horrified expression, it was as if Chosen was looking at a monster, not his best friend.

Chosen could no longer ignore the fact that Dark was betraying the very ideals he had lived by in his whole life. It became painfully clear that the noble qualities embedded in his code which he so deeply valued were absent in his best friend.

They argued, definitely, fought, maybe. Their once impregnable friendship was cracking, threatening to collapse.

And it scared Dark. Dark didn't understand why Chosen was so angry at him, but he cared about their friendship, he cared about Chosen.

And he wanted to salvage their friendship, he wanted to make Chosen happy again.

So he came up with a plan. He would create a virus so powerful the world has never seen—a virus that would paralyse the internet once and for all. After all, mankind was evil, wasn't that what Chosen always told him? Dark would give humans what they deserve, just as Chosen had always wanted. And then, surely, they could be friends again.

That’s why he eagerly presented his virabots to Chosen, like a child showing off a prized drawing to their parents.

He was certain that Chosen would be impressed, that Chosen would share in the excitement for this grand scheme of destruction.

But instead, the black hollowhead was terrified. Having already lost his trust on Dark, he immediately jumped to the worst conclusion, that Dark was going to terrorise the world including the stick figure civilisation with his virus.

(But Dark's plan never involved harming stick figures. He knew Chosen was adamantly against the idea, so why would he risk their friendship by going against Chosen?)

Dark was understandably hurt and furious at Chosen's betrayal.

It was Chosen who had fuelled his love for destruction, who inspired him to create the virus in the first place. And now, Chosen had the audacity to demand him to stop? Even going so far as to attack him to protect the very humans Chosen had once hated so much?

Was their friendship truly worth less than the properties of evil humans?

As for Chosen, the destructive power of Dark's virabot was the final proof that Dark was an irredeemable villain down to his code. Consumed by a sense of justice, Chosen attacked without mercy.

And Dark, wounded and enraged, retaliated with everything he had.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

okay okay, can I pls get Shinsou with “we would’ve been timeless” 🥹🫶

make it as angsty as you want, i’m feeling it ❤️‍🩹

“we would’ve been timeless…”

(hitoshi shinso.)

note: apparently bnha takes place in the 2100s.. for this fic just ignore that lol. love u ana!

august 16, 2010

you were 6 when you were given your polaroid camera.

as a small child, you didn’t know the significance this device would have on your life, or the value of film. the idea that this small, box could capture anything onto a piece of plastic was fascinating. it captured moments in time, and gave you tangible pieces of memory that you could carry around.

theres so many things a 6 year old could want to photograph in the eyes of childlike innocence. but the first photo you ever took, was of your best friend.

“please!!” you whined to hitoshi, who reluctantly gave in after your begging. he couldn’t say no to you, after all.

“okay, fine.” he groans, making an awkward smile that makes you laugh. purple eyes wince at the flash, but immediately scrambled to be by your side once he heard the whirring of the photo being developed.

you stared in awe. it was the first of many memories.

april 3rd, 2018

suffice to say that in the last 8 years, you took many polaroids of many different things. the exception to this was hitoshi, who absolutely hated his photo being taken. but the day you two were both starting highschool at UA, he relented.

“this is pointless.” he says, while you set up your camera. he’s wearing his uniform for the photo, but he feels as though its not as important to him as it is to you.

“no its not, toshi.” you say, walking back up to him. he offer’s you his arm like he always does, just wanting to give you a sense of security. his shoulders seem to slump.

“i’m in general studies.” he reminds you. “you’re in the hero course. this isn’t so fucking monumental.”

you sigh, understanding your best friends frustrations. you’re reluctant to take a photo if you’re going to look back and know he was upset.

so you stand in front of him, taking his face in your hands and say this:

“i know… but i’m not taking this to remember that. i’m taking it to remember that you made it this far… you can’t give up now. even if you don’t believe in yourself…”

you smile. “i can believe in you for the two of us.”

he’s silent for a moment, before the camera finally flashes and captures the moment.

may 22, 2020

you waited ages to see him there.

the look on his face when he’s finally accepted into the hero course is priceless. he’s in shock, only managing a soft smile even when his new classmates surround him in congratulatory glee. this feels unreal.

you stand at the sidelines, capturing the moment in a polaroid. he didn’t know you did this, he was too caught up in his own world to realize you were still there.

a bittersweet feeling blooms in your heart.

june 15, 2022

your graduation after party.

losing hitoshi impacted you more than you would like to admit. there was no big fight, no dramatic announcement of resentment. you two simply drifted. and you were totally fine with it. you were the person who believed in him from the very start, and now he forgot you were there.

totally fine with it.

taking 7 shots of tequila while mina and denki cheered you on certainly wasn’t your finest moment. getting sloppy drunk and using your dress to wipe off your makeup definitely wasn’t either. but the worst was when you stumbled over to hitoshi, a drunken slobbery mess.

“woah, [y/n]!” he says, grabbing you by the shoulders to stabilize you. he takes in your appearance, noting the tear stains that ran down your cheeks.

“we would’ve been timeless, hitoshi.” you slur, wiping the tear off your face with your knuckles. “fucking timeless.”

he looks confused for a second. “..what are you talking about?”

“i would have run away with you, or pray for you every night… cause i love you, and i never stopped believing in you..! and i was so proud of you when you finally got your heroic dream… and… and then what…? we just… just…”

you’re not making sense and you know it. but hitoshi gets it, at least some semblance of it.

he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. he knows he’s treated you like shit for the past few years. like the coward in every man, he just hoped it would never come up.

your legs finally give up on you. and like the hero he is (to everyone but you) he catches you, carrying you in his arms. he resolves to at least get you to bed.

and your classmates, who had your camera, captured the moment. to them, it was a display of drunken love. not that you could blame them.

2024.

you didn’t speak to him after that night.

the first time you saw hitoshi after going your separate ways was when you were attending some fancy gala. there he was, in his hero costume, looking so god damn handsome. he’s grown taller, more confident, more beautiful.

clutching your camera, you think about it for a moment. ultimately, you decide not to do it. most of those memories were embedded into your heart, anyway.

you think that maybe in a different life, you’d be laughing next to him. maybe in a different life, you’d be timeless.

[hollowsart]

What if I was Doc Ock?

(Acedia used in place of my name)

Spider-Man looks over at Acedia, seeing the state she is in and after hearing her side of the events and seeing the remains of the lab around them. Acedia is wearing pants and a shirt that doesn't appear to be her own. she is exposed and uncomfortable in her posture and how she holds herself. The injuries of bruises and scratches and dust on her form. The tears staining her face, her reddened eyes from her crying and outburst.

And he turns to see Norman, angry and dusting himself off with that same expression on his face that he is always sporting.. but there's something underneath it. Spider-Man can feel it. Norman walks over, his movements reading like this is nothing more than a minor inconvenience, and that he has more important things to busy himself with.

Spider-Man didn't let the man speak.

(Continued below + a ton of extra info. This is VERY LONG, you've been warned)

"Your own worker? Your own employee? You're willing to put your people at such high risks and in such conditions at this? Exposed to all the hazards and more within a lab? The first rule of lab safety is to be properly dressed. Does she look properly dressed to you?" he waves his arms in Acedia's direction. She flinches, rubbing her sore arms and wiping at her face. She winces as she hits a cut, her attention turning away from the other two, brow knitting with concern and annoyance with her own sorry state.

Spider-Man continued.

"Either you never spent a day in a lab yourself to know that, or you just don't care. And I'm really starting to believe it's the latter."

He turns to look at Acedia again, walking up to her, a hand reached out but never touching. "Look, are you alright? Do you need some help getting out of here? I can take you--" Acedia jumps, not expecting the approach. An actuator whipped around him and knocked him away out of reflex.

"AH-- I'M SO SORRY. I.. I-I don't-- I don't know why it did that-- I--?!"

Norman smiles, a small chuckle caught in his throat at the sight. It may not be a success how he wanted, but it appears the arms were a success in other ways.

"You two need to get out of my lab and out of my building before I have the authorities alerted. I need this place cleaned up. Immediately. Oh, and Acedia? You're fired. I'll have your stuff thrown out in the dumpster tonight. We won't be needing it. Goodbye."

Spider-Man groans as he stands up, Acedia gasps and looks over at Norman, shock and offense flashing on her face. Her eyes followed him as he walked casually out the door. Her expression shifted to that of hatred as the tears started to well up again, and her hands clenched tightly. Spider-Man is back at his feet. He clears his throat and speaks up again.

"..Listen, I'm.. I'm so sorry. I guess I should've said something first before..." he trails off a moment, "Will you be alright? Do you need any help? I'd offer a hand, but.. uhm.. it seems you've already got more than plenty." He awkwardly chuckles at his attempt to make light of the current situation. Acedia sniffs, looking him up and down before shakily offering her hand.

"..It's okay. We should.. get out of here. Like he said."

"What about your stuff? You want me to go get it before it's all trashed?"

"..I'm no one special, just an assistant. I don't have much. Nothing of value, anyway.. But you're welcome to." She says, giving him the directions to the lab she was assigned and shared, as well as repeating her name.

"Got it. I'll be out in a jiffy. And hey, everyone's special in their own way."

Acedia can't help the smile.

"Thanks."

"No problem. You should go get some medical help if you can. I'll meet you wherever!" And with a thwip of his web, he's gone.

-------

Prologue to ^that^ and is the initial concept:

I'm not like a proper scientist, but an assistant. I do the testing and help the proper engineers and scientists within the company. However, I got roped by convenience into some stuff by Norman and the fact I was there at the wrong time.

Being too anxious to really speak up for myself and fight back. I just get bossed around despite me not wanting to, but I REALLY don't wanna make a scene cuz that just makes everything worse.

Anyways. One experiment involves the actuators, they don't want to test it on themselves, so they make me wear it cuz I'm just a replaceable assistant, it's sorta my job.

They don't have enough power for the arms and the experiment to work, so they start to boost the power and end up pumping too much that it gets dangerous and I end up getting shocked unconscious as things explode. Unable to actually escape from the arms and the machine area. While unconscious, when everything clears and everyone thinks the whole thing was a failure.. the actuators wake up and start moving the debris and everything away, shifting around and wobbily getting "footing" to lift me from the rubble.

Norman and whoever else was present is surprised that the arms are working just fine. In fact, they're working even better than expected. Norman even boasting that it was all his work and his idea, and while he's saying this, I'm waking up, not moving, but becoming conscious enough to hear the world around me. I hear Norman say something about "removing the body from the arms," and I panic and start to move, flailing as I'm registering that I'm now hanging from the arms off the ground. The arms understand the panic and react.

Something Something Norman gets grabbed and slammed. I'm crying and shouting and trying to tell off Norman for this experiment that nearly could have gotten me killed.

During this, Spiderman comes in and stops me, but he's more understanding with me since I'm clearly deeply upset, and he hears clearly the things I'm saying in my clear distress.

---

Origin:

Assistant who is used more as a means of testing new inventions and products within OsCorp. Happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when Norman "required" me. End up in a somewhat more secure lab within the company building that I had no idea about. Get told I need to change due to my shirt and lab coat getting in the way, get given an open back tank top instead (I feel extremely uncomfortable and exposed). Get told to get up on the platform, and I'll be fitted for the testing. They keep wording and phrasing things in a way to try and coerce me into going along. Not enough power, pumps too much power, big explosion with electricity. I'm still alive, the arms are now very much active, Norman assumes I'm dead and gives word to the others in the room to clean up and to remove me from the harness. Big freak out and outburst against Norman, putting my foot down and telling him off. This leads to Spiderman's intervention. He comes in to hear me out and get an understanding of the situation. Clearly, one side is very much in the wrong here, and it sure as heck isn't the very much upset and injured exposed woman. Not really much happens here. Get fired and told to leave. At least make some level of "friend" with Spiderman.

Follow-up:

A strange package shows up at my apartment from OsCorp. Weird goggles are inside, and I'm highly suspicious and skeptical... but also a little stupid and can't resist seeing what I look like in funny eyewear. Bing bang boom, I am now hanging off the sides of buildings screaming and crying and unable to do anything as the actuators have gone rogue and my head keeps turning on its own and it's causing my anxiety and fear to skyrocket. The actuators are causing a lot of chaos and destruction, which soon enough alerts Spiderman into showing himself. The Goggles lock onto him, and the actuators take off to attack. A long struggle on Spiderman's side ensues. He sees how distressed I am and does his best to try and get through to me so I can think and potentially do SOMETHING to stop this. He brings up the goggles when I mention how it hurts amidst my sobbing and suggests removing the goggles. I do that despite how much it hurts because I'm so tired and fed up already with this. The goggles get removed and tossed away, which causes the arms to go erratic instead of being locked onto Spiderman. This allows him to be able to successfully stop what's happening. The chip, which was found to be the source of the actuators going haywire, is also eventually discovered afterward and removed. Norman was likely at fault here once again, but with that gone, he won't be making trouble anymore.

The final thing would be like..

I get befriended and picked up into a band of other people who have more of a criminal record than me, and we create the Sinister Six. I'm the ideas department offering ideas and advice for everyone as a whole or individually.

All of this works with how I am irl, but I do still end up being deemed a "villain" tho I don't really do much that's actively villainous. I'm just a victim of circumstances.

"Master Planner" ends up being more my occupation since I do have a lot of ideas to offer everyone else. (I am no Otto Octavius fjsvsjfg)

[komoboko]

𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬

sanemi shinazugawa x gn!reader + genya (mentioned) ���modern au ・ implied romantic but can be read as platonic

I think we forget sanemi is colorblind most of the time so I just wanted to write a little Drabble about it also why does the title sound like a smut title 😭

“I’m not wearing those.”

You sigh staring back at the white haired male and the looking back down at the glasses in your hand. 15 minutes passed and the man hadn’t budged, you swore it would help him but he believes his dignity matters more. You couldn’t blame him per say, as you wouldn’t wear these by free will either.

Think rounded glasses in your hand, it reminded you of bottlecaps, you would be lying if you said they looked somewhat nice. You ignored your own thoughts as the doctor had assured you the look wouldn’t change the medical values to it. The moment Shinazugawa put them on, he’d finally be able to actually see color. Real color.

“I promise you it will only be a moment.” You plead as your only answer is an irritated grunt from Sanemi. he opens his eyes again as his eyes meet yours, then back down to the “cursed glasses” in your hands. He could feel his ego wilting away every second.

Without a word he snatched the glasses from your hands, you blink trying to process what happens only to see Sanemi holding the glasses up to his face. He was mumbling something incoherent but you can tell just from his tone he was annoyed. Slowly he brought the glasses up to his face putting them off.

You stared at him like he was an alien for a moment, a snicker escapes from your mouth until you fall into a laugh fit. Sanemi only yells at you to be quiet but you can’t help but laugh at how much a nerd he looks as he can only respond with walking you in the head.

Sanemi eyes peek open, one small peek only for them to shoot open immediately. His lips part in complete shock. Everything was so vibrant, the sky was as blue as the ocean and the grass was so radient it nearly hurt his eyes.

He stares back at you, and he can’t help but admire you. The amount of details that decorated your face were so many more than he thoughts. The different shades from your skin to your hands. The vibrant color of your clothes and anything that surrounds you were so much more lively than he thought.

He looks at his hands and then back at yours comparing his hand still decorated with scars and marks compared to yours. He only notice his eyes watering when your hand pokes the lense of the glasses he has on his face, bringing him back to his senses once again.

“Sanemi? Sanemi? Are you alright?” You can only poke at him until you get a proper response back, his eyes blink showing he’s more responsive now but you can tell he’s beyond amazed by what he was able to see.

He pauses for a moment before he opens his mouth to speak again. “I didn’t think anything was.. this bright.” He mumbles, his eyes trail up to yours. They were so much more vibrant then he would of ever imagined. You were so much vibrant than he imagined. Your features had so much color, the world has so much color. Something he missed seeing every since he was a child.

“Maybe I’ll wear these.. things more than I thought.” He blurts out, your eyes widen slightly at his new revelation. Until a smile appears on your face.

The moment is so peaceful, tranquil. It’s something you know you’ll treasure, as he will as well. You open your mouth to speak until you hear unpredictable footsteps approach you both.

“Hey! I just came to stop by and-“ Genya cuts himself off swing his older brother with the thickest pair of glasses he’s ever seen. On cue he burst into a laughing fit. A boisterous Laughter you haven’t heard from him before. Anger once again fills Sanemi as his face nearly grows red before taking the glasses off, as carefully as his anger lets him. Before running at Genya, who took the due to start running prior.

“GENYA!” Hé screeches as you could only facepalm at both of their stupidity.

[kisses-from-crows]

Random Campbell Bain Headcanons

(chapter 7 is currently a 5k word inconsistent mess but i can give you this so, ehhh? not sure if these make any sense but in my brain they make perfect sense)

-this mf LOVES halloween

-he will spend will weeks thinking up a bunch of overly complicated costumes

-he spends WAY too much money on halloween decorations (i want you to picture Campbell Bain with adult money….)

-he has gotten tangled in those cotton spiderweb things a million times

-he always gets really enthusiastic about carving pumpkins but doesn’t have the patience to do the super complicated designs. always manages to cut off bits he didn’t mean to cut off.

-has a tradition of smashing the pumpkins to bits in the first week of november. (he likes this part more than the carving)

-will literally beg to get his nails painted and then will IMMEDIATELY smudge them, everytime, without fail

-settles for coloring in his nails with sharpie

-scarily good at mario kart, like frighteningly good

-likes to watch the muppets when he has depressive episodes

-had an intense cowboy phase as a child, until he went to a petting zoo and discovered he’s deathly afraid of horses

-the type of person to go radio silent for weeks or spam you with 50 memes and 12 songs in a matter of an hour. (there is no in-between)

-will respond to an important text two days later with a link to song and nothing else

-has a MASSIVE sweet tooth

-and has absolutely ZERO self control with candy, will down an entire bag of marshmallows (he prefers the mini ones) in a single sitting.

-noticed that Eddie had started to sneakily take his candy so he started keeping secret stashes hidden in various places

-eddie will find a stash and throw it away, only to turn around and see Campbell munching on a king-sized snickers, just gloating

-is ace spec but constantly makes dirty jokes, partly for shock value partly because he finds it hilarious

-very touchy, doesn’t get the whole “personal space” thing

-insists that he loves scary movies and then will go to bed with all the lights on after

-finds a pair of shoes he likes and then wears them every single day until they fall apart, then refuses to throw them out

-his closet is full of converse held together by duct tape and a dream

-is the biggest baby about being sick. this mf will get a tummy ache and just start rolling on the ground whining about “this is the end, get my affairs in order, tell Eddie i love him”

-toes the line between being the dream/nightmare blunt rotation. he has the most entertaining monologues but he’s using the joint as a talking stick and accidentally ash’d in the water cups twice now

-not allowed to smoke anymore because it messed with his bipolar and he didn’t sleep for 4 days straight

-can’t cook for shit, regularly burns soup. is banned from using the oven after The Incident™️

-won’t explain to anyone what The Incident™️ is

-if you ask Eddie about it, he’ll just say “he knows what he did”

-rumor has it that it involved makeshift shrink-i-dinks

-visits Fergus’s grave at least once a month. sets up a blanket and just talks. tells him everything that happened since he came last. what the rest of the crew is up to

-always leaves some sort of bit or bauble for Fergus

-got very upset when they would go missing, until he realized the local crows were collecting them

-now he brings some food and an extra toy for the crows, they’re good friends now

-one of the crows always flies down and hangs out next to him, so Campbell is convinced it’s Fergus

okay that’s all i’ve got for now! (sorry had to make it just little sad at the end)

[icallhimjoey]

To Have And To Scold

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It’s just that… you don’t really get along all that well, do you? At least, that’s what you think.

CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers, slooow burn, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader, eventual smut, talk of teenage!trauma (men are men and teenage girls are teenage girls) - nothing graphic, but, you know, a trigger warning feels right

Author’s note: new territory! fresh waters! my first ever part 6! wahhh!

Wordcount: 4.6K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

Sudden loud voices, followed by the slam of a closing front door shocked you awake. Not enough for you to actually open your eyes, but enough to propel you back into consciousness where you learnt that, oh, whoops, you'd fallen asleep.

The voices that came from the hallway were quickly shushed by Mark, who moved up from the sofa and you felt his legs disappear from underneath your feet.

“What’s – oh, she’s asleep,”

Your shoulder ached from lying on it weird.

The talking turned into whispers and was followed by footsteps that moved into the kitchen. When you looked with a squinty eye, you saw the TV was still on, but had been muted.

You'd had dinner over at Mark's, and Poppy had gone out with Joe. That was always the way it was; you and Mark were people who stayed in wearing comfy outfits, had simple meals and enjoyed shitty TV together. Poppy and Joe would go out in shiny outfits to shiny restaurants where they had shiny meals, you were sure.

No drinks after, though. Not tonight. Tomorrow she had her appointment at a wedding boutique, and you'd been invited to come along as well. You and Poppy were friends, after all, and she valued your opinion when it came to wedding dresses over Joe's anyway.

It was dark out, and you tried remembering if it had already been dark before you'd drifted off as you stretched your arms up over your head.

You were so toasty warm underneath the throw blanket, you groaned at the prospect of having to put your shoes back on and go outside for the trek home.

A sudden noise jump-scared you, and you were quick to pull in both arms close to your chest as your head snapped to where it came from.

Joe was stood in the doorway.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,"

"Oh my God," you spoke on an exhale, rubbed your face with both hands, and mentally cursed Joe for shocking you awake like he had.

Had he been stood there the whole time?

"Good morning?" you could hear him suppress a laugh, making fun of you as you sat up. Hair everywhere, sleep in your eyes and muscles all achy.

"It's night time," you corrected him dryly, not in the mood to play.

"Correction, it's not even 9, the evening's barely started."

Oh.

It felt like it was past midnight. But you shrugged, because it didn't really matter, and reached for one of your shoes that you pulled out from underneath the coffee table.

"Won't you... won't you have trouble getting to sleep later? Now that you've slept already?"

You frowned. Why was Joe trying to have a chat with you? Could he not go join Mark and Poppy in the kitchen and let you come back into your own body in some peace and quiet?

"I'll be fine," you pushed a foot into your second shoe. "I love a good nap."

A silence fell, and when you'd tied your shoe laces, you slapped your knees and took a deep breath. You looked at Joe who was still awkwardly hovering in the doorway, feet on the threshold, and you looked at him as if to ask, what do you want?

"Um, we... we came up with an idea," Joe started, scratching the back of his head.

"Small change of plans. We're turning the bridal shower into a wedding shower,"

You were glad that this was wedding-related, because it immediately normalised the conversation Joe was trying to have with you. You took a second to think it over, and then smiled an impressed smile at Joe.

"Well done," you nodded at him with your eyebrows raised. "Isn't that just a regular party, then?"

"Yea," Joe shrugged a little bashfully. "Pre-wedding party, everyone's invited, not just Poppy's guests,"

And no playing stupid bridal shower games, or stupid bridal shower activities... you were onto Joe. It was very clear that this was a way to minimize his workload and instead, just... drink.

Honestly, you didn't mind it.

"We thought it'd be nicer that way. Get everyone excited for the wedding,"

"No, yea... you're right. It probably will be nicer to have a normal party instead of playing the newly wed game, or some wild form of mad lips with their vows, or whatever,"

"Loo roll bride," Joe added.

"We could still do that, park Pop in the middle of the dance floor and dance around to wrap her up," you quipped, and got a huffed laugh out of Joe.

It was almost normal, until Joe's head turned and Mark's voice got into earshot. Joe immediately tensed up, you could see it in his shoulders, and you didn't understand why it offended you the way it did.

"Brilliant idea! We've managed to find a date that works for us," Mark said, revealing what they'd been up to, and it prompted Joe to step away to go and find Poppy.

Mark looked at you and turned on the ceiling light, washing the room in bright white. It made you flinch a little.

"Hey, twitchy-feet, you slept for nearly two hours,"

"I feel very well rested," you said, grinning at the nickname and getting up from the sofa.

"Kicked me several times,"

"You can take it,"

Finding your coat over the back of a chair, you slung it 'round and stuck one arm in after the other.

"You ready for tomorrow?" you called out loudly, and waited for a response from the kitchen.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Poppy called back.

"I was born ready," you grinned.

"No, you weren't," Mark said softly so only you could hear. "You were born five weeks premature, you–" you punched him in the arm as you stepped past him into the hallway.

"I'm so ready, I'll bring all of my opinions," you joked when you saw Poppy walk over, followed closely behind by Joe.

"Good, I'm going to need them."

"I'll bring mine too," Joe said, but earned an immediate scoff from his friend.

"No, leave those at home, you're just there for moral support. You need to tell me I look pretty in everything, and then I'll let the women be honest with me," Poppy said and you saw how they made eye-contact for a second.

It was wild how they looked in love when they locked eyes like that.

You snuck a quick glance at Mark to see if he noticed anything, but he had his phone out and you saw he had his agenda open, busy putting in when the wedding shower would be.

"I'm heading out," you broke their stare and all eyes turned to you.

"Me too," Joe said, and that immediately shot panic into your veins. You didn't need Joe walking you home again.

"Actually," Mark said, "I could use your help with something," And with a hand on his shoulder, Mark turned Joe back towards the kitchen.

"Bye," you called, and Mark waved a hand over his shoulder without looking back.

You didn't know if your face had given you away, if you'd been obvious about it, or if Mark had just sensed it within you, but you were grateful. Grateful you got to slip out of the house by yourself, void of any awkward embarrassing interaction with Joe. Just a small tiny wave for Poppy that got a bright smile of hers in return, and the door shut behind you.

Nice.

You could save all the tension for the next day. You just hoped it wouldn't get too weird. Tomorrow was going to be all about Poppy, anyhow. There wasn't going to be any room for Joe to be distant and weird with you.

At least, that's what you thought.

The next day, you all met up outside the boutique. Poppy, her mother, her auntie who doubled up as her godmother, and her daughter, Poppy's favourite cousin. And Joe. Of course, Joe was there too.

The six of you were sat down on one large sofa, everything pristine white, very clean, and obviously very expensive. You didn't sit next to Joe, even though out of everyone in Poppy's entourage you knew him best. It just, it was a little weird. In this group, you had known Poppy the shortest, and were only her friend by association. Originally, anyway.

After introductions to the bridal consultant of who you all were to Poppy, Poppy got whisked off fairly quickly to have a look at some dresses and to immediately try the first one on.

Waiting whilst she got dressed took ages.

Poppy's aunt and cousin took the time to look at dresses in the storefront, to see if they could find ones they thought would look good on Poppy. Joe buried himself in his phone, which was interesting, because you knew he wasn't on social media, so what the fuck was he even doing? Playing games?

It left you and Poppy's mum to talk.

"I've always wondered," she said, kind eyes all crinkled as she smiled at you.

"Of course we know Joe," she turned and curled a hand around his wrist. Joe smiled at her for a second, far more comfortable around her than you were. Which, yea, made sense. She might as well have been his mother.

"And we know Mark, but we don't really know you, do we? I've never heard how you and Mark became such close friends,"

Oh God.

This definitely felt like a protective mother making sure her daughter wasn't going to marry an unreliable man. One who didn't secretly have a girl on the side. One that didn't hide his mistress in plain sight.

You kind of understood, though. This all came from a good place, even if you could see that the smile you got from her was now very obviously a fake one. Or, perhaps not fake, but definitely wary.

Then you saw Joe put his phone down and direct his attention to you as well. A strange grin took over his face.

He scooted his hips forward a little, getting more comfortable as his legs spread wider. He was ready to listen to a story.

"Oh, well," you waved a hand, making it seem like you and Mark were surface level mates. "Nothing crazy, we just met at school and became fast friends."

It wasn't a direct lie. Not really.

It just wasn't an answer to the question she asked.

Joe narrowed his eyes at you and then frowned a little.

"You and Poppy met at school, didn't you?" Poppy's mum turned back to Joe, who immediately smiled at her and nodded. "Year 4," Joe added, and it was wild to see how fond she was of him.

Poster boy Joseph.

Probably the perfect son-in-law in her eyes. You wondered how much she despised that Joe wasn't the one marrying her daughter. How much she wanted Joe to be a true part of her family.

Instead she'd gotten Mark. And Mark came with an attachment.

You.

"Mark and I met when I was 14, and, you know him," you said, unsure if she actually did. "One big, kind softie."

The two of you laughed. Bonded over the fact that Mark was hardly soft - he could easily intimidate with just a simple look. He could be soft, sure. But he didn't look it.

Not the way that Joe looked soft, you thought.

The bridal consultant walked out and called everyone back to the sofa. Poppy was about to walk out in the first wedding dress she'd ever put on her body.

This was a big moment.

With everyone in position, Poppy got introduced all officially, and then she stepped out, dressed in an awful looking huge pile of tule that engulfed all of her. Absolutely ate her alive. She looked excited, but very self-conscious.

Her mother clapped in her hands excitedly and was already close to tears.

You looked at Joe who, Jesus Christ, looked absolutely smitten.

What was fucking wrong with him?

Poppy's aunt and cousin had huge big smiles on their faces and, oh my God, were you going to be the only one to tell her that you didn't like the dress on her at all?

Poppy got placed in front of a mirror and took a good look before she turned to face all of you.

"And?" Poppy questioned, eyes hopeful but terrified.

Her mother burst into tears.

Oh shit.

Joe immediately handed over a tissue from a box next to him.

"You look gorgeous," he said as he comforted Poppy's mum.

And she did look gorgeous. That wasn't the issue here.

Poppy got praised left right and centre, and you paid close attention to her face. For a moment you thought you weren't going to be able to give your honest opinion, because you saw her bloom, thriving on the kind words she was receiving from everyone.

However, when the consultant asked Poppy what she thought of it herself, Poppy turned back to look at herself in the mirror and hesitated.

Thank fuck.

Poppy made eye-contact with you in the mirror and gave you a questioning look.

"Pop, you look fantastic in white. Most beautiful bride. I'm being honest. Your skin looks like it's glowing, it's gorgeous... but, babe," you bit your lips into your mouth for a second, and considered the reaction you were going to get from the rest of the sofa.

"This dress looks awful,"

You saw heads snap towards you from your peripheral vision. You kept your eyes trained on Pop. Kind eyes. Real sympathetic ones.

The air was tense and you all waited for Poppy's reaction.

"I know," Poppy replied before she burst into laughter.

You could practically feel the whole sofa relax.

"It's not really your style, is it?" Poppy's cousin added.

"Far too cupcakey," Poppy said and scrunched up her nose as she picked at some tule and faffed with it to show what she meant.

"All right, less cupcakey, got it," the bridal consultant smiled.

The tone had been set. Good. You were glad. If everyone was just going to tell Poppy she looked great in every single dress, this whole appointment would be useless.

There was some more back and forth, people mentioning what they did like about the dress she was in, people adding how maybe this or that change would make it be more Poppy, and when Poppy disappeared into the dressing room to try on another dress, her mother reached a hand that grabbed onto your knee for a second.

"Thank you," this time you could see that her smile was sincere. "She deserves good friends like you."

You looked at Joe and couldn't help but feel a little bad for him. You were getting praised for being a good mate when Poppy's literal platonic soulmate was sat on the other side of her.

Joe eyes darted and only landed on you for a second.

Big cringe.

"Poppy deserves the world," you agreed. "And a beautiful dress," the cousin added, to which you all hummed and nodded. She really did.

Poppy tried on a few more dresses before she stepped out and was already in tears herself.

This was it.

It was the one.

Poppy knew it was the one, she could feel it in her bones and it radiated off of her.

She looked stunning.

Like, seriously stunning.

Mark was really fucking lucky.

It only took one look for her mother to start crying again, and before long, it was just you, Joe and the consultant with dry faces. Everyone else had tears streaming down.

"That's it," you said, and Poppy nodded with a shaky inhale and a wobbly smile. "That's the dress."

Her mother absolutely broke down then, and stood up to hug the girl in the beautiful white gown. It got quickly followed by her aunt who was trying her hardest not to let her mascara run, and Joe was just handing out tissues all 'round like his life depended on it.

He passed you one, which you took, but then held up questioningly.

"You're supposed to cry," Joe spoke out of the side of his mouth, his face in a faux panic over the fact that you weren't. He waved a hand in a small circle that was meant to say, hurry up with those tears, and it made you roll your eyes at him.

You stuck the tissue into your pocket and looked at the ladies stood by the mirrors.

This felt like a moment.

One you weren't part of. You weren't family, and you got the strong sense you were intruding.

The bridal consultant stepped back past the curtains that lead to the dressing room, and you thought she must have been thinking the same thing.

When Poppy's mother started talking about Poppy's birth, reminiscing about her sweet little baby girl, you knew you were right. Time to give them some space. You got up, excused yourself to Poppy's cousin who seemed to be drowning in self-pity over being single more than anything else, and escaped into the front of the store.

For a second you thought you could just busy yourself, looking through dresses, or whatever, but when you saw the door, some fresh air sounded divine.

It was nice out. Sunny. Slight breeze. Not very warm yet, but, the sun on your skin was bright enough to warm it.

You checked the time, and upon seeing how much time had already passed, you realised you were actually quite hungry. How bad would it be if you darted off get your hands on some food?

You didn't get to think about it long.

The door to the wedding boutique opened, and Joe stepped out.

Thinking that he'd been sent out to come and get you, you were about to tell him that you were just getting some fresh air and would be back inside in a minute. But then, Joe revealed a packet of cigarettes from a pocket and you realised he was joining you out on the pavement.

"Got a bit too emosh in there?" you asked.

Joe nodded as he took his first drag. A good, long one. He seemed insanely uncomfortable.

"I know it's a whole thing," Joe waved his hand around and made a stupid face. "But, fuck me, over five thousand pounds for a dress?"

Jesus fucking Christ.

Of course the dress Poppy was going to get was over five thousand pounds. Of fucking course.

Joe shook his head, and even though you agreed, you thought you had a little case of a pot calling a kettle black on your hands here. Joe looked like he was wearing designer pieces exclusively. He probably had gotten a lot of it for free, but retail value would easily be a couple thousand.

So, you wanted to defend Poppy a little.

"If she loves it, she loves it," you shrugged.

"Yea, no, of course,"

"And she looks great,"

"She does."

Joe was quick to just go along with you. Didn't want to ruffle any feathers. He was but a man, one who didn't really get it, but the ladies inside were really going through something together, and when Joe saw you sneak away, he'd followed your lead and had done the same.

"Poppy's got nice family,"

You'd only briefly seen her mother once, but had never actually spoken to her before. Her aunt and cousin were completely strangers to you, but they honestly did seem lovely.

"She does," Joe said, and he let another silence follow as he looked down the street, away from you.

Jeez, Joe. Come on, put some effort in.

"Though her mother definitely doesn't trust me," you couldn't help the slight chuckle at yourself.

Joe's eyes found yours, and he huffed a laugh as he exhaled thick white smoke that immediately blew upwards.

"Nah," he started, "She's all right,"

You looked down at your feet a moment.

"It didn't help that you pretended you barely even know Mark at all," Joe reminded you, and you looked up at him, about to share that she did say that Poppy deserved friends like you, but something about the way Joe was looking at you made the words linger in your lungs.

"What was that about?"

In all the years that you and Joe had avoided conversations like these, suddenly, it felt like the most natural thing between you.

To be talking about your friends like this.

You wondered what changed.

"I... I could tell you, but, I need to warn you. I might cry."

Joe didn't say anything. Just smoked.

"Is being in the vicinity of four crying women not enough?"

It was meant as a joke, but you knew that even just thinking about the start of your friendship with Mark could make your throat hurt.

"No? Need one more?"

You hid your smile badly, but you poked Joe right where it hurt. Joe thought he'd said something wrong and immediately backed off. You thought he either didn't get social cues, just in general, or that maybe you'd been right before, and Joe really didn't actually like you. He'd just tried to be nice for Poppy's sake.

You couldn't even be mad. That just made him a good friend. It just sucked that you had to bear the brunt of it.

But you were kind, remember? So after a short moment of silence, you decided to just tell him anyway.

"When I was 14, my, um... experience, with boys, and honestly, too many adult men, was very..."

You forgot that having to tell him meant you had to say the actual words. Verbalise them. Speak them into the air, just... outside, where you were stood on the pavement, for strangers to hear. For Joe to hear.

"How can I put this without it sounding too dramatic... basically, any time a boy was friendly to me, and I thought I'd made a friend, it was... it was never just friendly. There was always a point where suddenly, they wanted to put their sweaty little teenage hands in... places,"

Oh God, you couldn't look Joe in the eye for this.

"And I don't know, it just... if every time you think you've made a friend you end up finding out that they aren't actually a friend, it um... fucked me up, a little bit,"

You were going to brush over the adult men you mentioned.

"Not to mention the way that you'd then get treated after when you'd kindly say, no thanks, I'd like us to remain friends, please,"

You recalled the way they'd speak to you. Would look at you. Like you'd personally done them a great disservice. Like not letting them touch your tits was the most vile thing you could've ever done to them.

"Adult men?"

Fuck.

Joe's voice couldn't sound smaller if he'd tried.

"Yea, you know... just," you shrugged. Eyes down. This was just what things were like. "Teachers who would squeeze your shoulder for a second too long when they'd reassure you that you really were a beautiful young girl, or, my dad's coworkers that would comment on them being disappointed I wouldn't be in my schooluniform if they'd visit on the weekends,"

"Fucking hell,"

"It's whatever," you kick stomped a foot into the pavement. "It's not like I was molested or anything,"

Joe didn't say anything.

"But so, I'd turned down one of Mark's classmates who couldn't really deal with that and tried to spread rumours, you know, just... teenage boy behaviour, no offence,"

Joe thought back to his own teenage years. Of classmates calling girls lesbians because they avoided kissing them at a park gathering over the weekend. Or them calling girls slags for the exact same reason.

"Mark just... Mark decided to become my friend, and then, actually became my friend. It took me ages to trust that he wouldn't one day try to roll onto me to make out. I just... I kept waiting for him to make a move and the longer it took, the more I knew the world would burn when he eventually would–"

"Pocket," Joe suddenly said.

"Huh?"

"You've got... the tissue I gave you, you put it in your pocket,"

Oh shit. You were crying. A stupid laugh escaped you and you were quick to find the crumpled up piece of tissue.

"I'm all right, honestly," you said, unable to not laugh at yourself. "It's just... it's dumb how much it meant for me to find a friend who wasn't romantically interested in the slightest,"

"I don't think that's dumb,"

Joe looked at you with impossibly big, rounded eyes. All full of things like... empathy, and softness. Zero judgment.

"Well. It is." You concluded. Last thing you needed was for Joe to feel sorry for you.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think that being betrayed and backstabbed a lot as a young girl means that– like, obviously that does– that's not, it's not dumb,"

Joe was going to have to stop talking if he didn't want you to break down right in front of him.

"It's– I think it's profoundly human that those type of things have an impact. Things like that leave marks, don't they?"

The sob that wretched itself from you was the worst thing your body had ever done to you in public. In front of Joe, no less.

It made you duck into yourself, and Joe's arms were around you in an instant. You imagined that Joe hugging you would be arms barely there. Body held back. Just, soft pats on a shoulder blade for just a second.

But it was none of that.

Joe's arms held a lot of strength. Squeezed your ribs tightly. Compressed you. A large palm covered the entire back of your head as he pressed it into the space below his chin.

It somehow eased everything immediately.

Joe smelled nice.

Was warm.

"It's not dumb," Joe started, his voice all soft and velvety. "You're–" but then a loud knock on glass interrupted him and made the two of you turn your heads to see Poppy stood in front of the window. Crying.

The two of you looked at each other, and Poppy's face only scrunched up more at the sight of you.

"Look at her," you said to Joe as he let you go and you didn't even wait for him to finish was he was about to say to you. You rushed inside where Poppy and you fell into a massive hug.

"Are you all right?" she hiccuped through a whisper.

"I am," you smiled over her shoulder. "You just look so very beautiful, it's hard to bear,"

You got a wet laugh out of her before you pulled back.

"This is what you're going to be wearing, right?"

"This is the one," Poppy beamed, and the urge to hug her close overtook again.

By now Joe had made it inside, and you could see him look at the two of you from the side.

"Your wedding is going to be so gorgeous, you have no idea. I can't fucking wait," you said, and Poppy's grip around your neck tightened in excitement.

"It'll be the best day," you continued. "The weather will be lovely, and everyone you love is going to be there to witness you and Mark, saying yes to each other. It'll be beautiful, everyone will be so happy. Good vibes only."

"Don't," Poppy sniffled. "Please don't lose the rings,"

You immediately dropped your shoulders, and a few steps away, Joe let out a loud belly laugh.

You were quick to flip him off behind Poppy's back before pulling back out of Poppy's embrace. Your middle finger aimed at him only made Joe laugh louder.

"Of course I won't," you smiled sweetly at her.

"Trust me. I won't."

—

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s  @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[kiyomitakada]

Kiyomi Takada has not left her room in two days.

This is, obviously, highly unusual. Halle had to fend off three reporters from entering Kiyomi's apartment the first day and fifty the second. She marvels again at how easily the public begins to worship; how innate to humanity it apparently is to find an idol and sink to your knees. It was only early December that Takada accepted the mantle of Kira's spokesperson, and yet she already has a sizeable cult following and the title Lady Takada graffitied onto NHN headquarters.

Halle has never quite grasped why people do this. She's always valued her independence. She's no misanthrope, but don't these people appreciate the fact that they have brains to think with? Why throw all that away?

But oh, well; the public has chosen their goddess, and they are sad she is missing. Halle can understand that much. She misses Takada too, though not quite the same way — misses her like the odd shock you feel in your ribcage when you brush past someone on the street with your older brother's eyes but none of his smile. She keeps feeling phantom taps at her elbow and turning to ask what do you need, Miss Takada? only to find no one there.

It's… odd.

Halle should not be feeling this way after just one month of tailing a suspect. Takada is only a suspect, after all.

It is purely investigative concern, and nothing else, that motivates her to call a fellow bodyguard over to take her place before marching to the elevator.

Halle raps on the door, three sharp knocks.

No response. She knocks again. No response.

Hmm.

"Gosh," she says, projecting her voice just a little, "how strange. My friend must not be in. I suppose I'll just have to sit in front of her door to wait for her."

Footsteps. Halle counts in her mind. One, two, three…

Takada cracks the door open.

"Lidner," she says, and though she tries to hide it Halle still hears the way her voice catches in surprise. "You could have said it was you. Or called."

"I called yesterday and you said you were fine."

"I am fine," Takada says. "It's just a cold."

Bullshit, Halle wants to say, you'd come into work even if you had the flu, but she refrains. "Then you won't have any problem with me coming in."

"I'll infect you," Takada protests.

"I have a respiratory mask," Halle counters.

A second passes, then five. The door is only barely open; all Halle can make out is the strangely transparent gray of Takada's eyes.

"Lady Takada," Halle says at last, a little gentler. "There are cameras in this hallway and—"

She doesn't get to finish the warning. In the blink of an eye Takada opens the door all the way, pulls Halle in by the arm — it takes all of Halle's CIA-trained judgment to not immediately dropkick her — and closes the door behind her and. Oh. Halle is now pinned against the door.

She could very easily get out of this situation. She doesn't.

In her defense, there are several things orders-of-magnitude more important right now.

"Don't call me that," Takada says, breathing a little hard. "Please."

"What," asks Halle slowly, "happened?"

The wings are, objectively, gorgeous. Halle was never much of an art person, but even she can appreciate the way light refracts through the shards of glass jutting out through Takada's shoulder blades, generating a myriad miniature rainbows within. Halle peers over her shoulder, glad she's wearing heels. The two spots where glass and skin join look — painful, to put it optimistically; the blood weeps down the spiraling fractals of glass, dripping off the tips of the enormous glass wings taking up the entire living room to form two small but growing pools in Takada's nice carpet.

And Kiyomi Takada looks terrified.

It is an expression Halle has seen on her face exactly once before, and only for a fraction of a second before she smiled again and told Halle she was only meeting a friend.

"I." Takada swallows. "I don't know."

"You don't know," Halle repeats.

"I woke up this way," Takada says, not quite looking at her. Halle has never heard her without the newscaster voice before; she has Halle's forearm in a vice grip, which Halle should probably be alarmed by but can't see as anything but desperation. Oddly enough, Halle notices, the tips of her fingers are burnt. "I — can't go outside. I didn't want anyone to see me like this."

A dark voice in Halle's mind (it sounds like Near) points out that this is exactly what at least 75% of Takada's followers would want: physical proof of her ascension.

"Well," Halle says. "Do they feel more like objects or body parts?"

Takada blinks. "W-what?"

"The wings," Halle says. "Are they… grafted on?"

"Oh." Takada's eyes dart wildly around Halle's face. "No. I, um… I can feel them."

Well, that rules out the chop-them-off method. Halle bites her lip. She does not entirely miss the way Takada's gaze flickers to her mouth. "I can bandage them for you."

"What?"

"The wounds on your back," Halle says. "I presume you can't reach them?"

Takada stares. "You're not… scared?"

"Should I be?"

"I… no," Takada says. "I don't want to hurt you." Quieter, a mumble: "I don't want to hurt anyone."

"Where do you keep your bandages?" Halle asks, in an attempt to ignore the way Takada — the person she is tailing for her job in an official capacity — is looking at her.

She shouldn't be doing this. She really shouldn't be doing this. She should be reporting this extremely strange happenstance to Near right now so he can figure out how it slots into the Kira game.

"Um." Takada swallows. "The bathroom. Middle-left drawer."

"I'll get them," Halle says.

It takes a second too long for Takada to remember herself and let go of Halle's arm, and far, far too long for Halle to really mind.

[ @deathnotetober day 8: monster ]

a/n: inspired strongly by @neallo who pitched this ship so compellingly that i lost my entire mind about it, and by speak through fingers (explicit L/light fic by @dykelawlight) which manages to have both incredibly haunting imagery and one of the most hilarious Ls i've ever read. happy international lesbian day!

[hutchersonsgurl]

Coldest Heartbreak - Clapton Davis Part 1

paring x fem reader and Clapton Davis

Warnings: 18+ MNDI smut jealousy revenge

Summary: You and Clapton have been best friends since childhood and you were always the quiet nerdy girl of the school but Clapton was the only one who really saw you for you eventually the two of you started dating 5 months ago but unfortunately Clapton only wanted to kiss you not in public and it really breaks your self-confidence and you feel like he values his popularity over you. You were gone a few weeks because of a family emergency but now you are back at school you had a makeover while you were away trying to be the girl that Clapton wanted you to be you have dark honey-blonde hair with dark roots and you got tan and wearing clothes that reveal your toned body.

you return to Grizzly Lake High School walking down the hallway with people looking at you like they have never met you before as you head to your locker you put earphones in and listen to music you get to your locker and open it and you can sense a pair of eyes on you and you turn around and see Clapton and his friends practically drooling over you you roll your eyes and pull out your books for the first two classes and as you turn around your face to face to them familiar brown eyes " Holy shit yn is that you?" Clapton asked in shock

"Go away, Clapton," you say annoyed

"Hey, come on I'm your boyfriend I'm supposed to complement you " He replies

" You told me to stay away from you in school Clapton" you respond

" Hey I never said stay away from me in school I just said keep our re; relationship on the down low" he responded

" way to make your girlfriend feel loved Clapton you know you can be such an ass you know that?" you responded

" you know I do love you, baby girl, it's just" He spoke but you cut him off before he could finish

" you know I changed my whole look for you because my own boyfriend is too embarrassed to let the world know we are dating" you replied

" I'm not embarrassed of you baby you just don't know how my friends are and I never asked you to change" he remarked

" well maybe you shouldn't of even asked me out because you are more worried about you care more about them then me" you responded

" That's not true and you know I love you Yn " He pleaded

"you know I heard about you being a player and using girls and I didn't believe it because I know you but then maybe I i didn't at all" you respond

"no, no don't say that baby you do know me" Clapton pleaded

"How can you say you love me but then do this to me?" You respond

" I do love you, you are the only girl for me YN you gotta believe me" he pleaded

"You have a funny way of showing it why does it take me changing my look to get you to even kinda act like a boyfriend in school?" you respond

" babe you could've been wearing a potato sack and I still would've loved you " he replies while grabbing you by your hips

" Really? Because what you say and do are two different things" you retorted

" nah babe you know my feelings for you are real and you know it" he responded looking at you with his brown puppy dog eyes

before you can respond the school's Mean girl Taylor walks over

"Man looks like you finally had a glow-up too bad it took you so long," Taylor says

" Taylor leave her alone this doesn't concern you" Clapton responds

" Uh, why are you holding her like that?" Taylor asked

Clapton immediately pulls away from you and you can feel your heart shatter right there

" just because you changed your look Yn doesn't mean someone like Clapton will want you when he can have me," she says flipping her blonde hair

The first bell rings and you turn around to start to walk to class

" wait do you still wanna sit with me in class?" he asks with his signature smirk

you don't answer him you just walk away wiping the tears off your face and trying to get far away from him

"Why did you have to open your damn mouth Taylor" Clapton snapped and walked away

" what? what did I do?" Taylor responds

Series Masterlist

Part 2

NOT EDITED

[meganehaise]

Thank you for the response to the form I posted before. With 18 submissions, we successfully managed to create our own quanyin-shaped exquisite corpse! I did the opening and closing sentences, but it was thanks to everyone's creativeness that something this wild and entertaining was put together.

Participants: Mango, Hiro, Redlikerozes, Ashen, Liv, J, Cherries, Mthaytr, Senju and the three anonymous participants.

This is posted today for day 5 of QuanYin Week, using (initially) the prompt "earrings". Enjoy!

Exquisite Corpse Story

With Quan Yizhen's birthday approaching, Yin Yu decides to gift him a pair of golden earrings. Quan Yizhen doesn't really put earrings on, so Yin Yu isn't expecting him to use them. However, these earrings have a high value for a god.

The earrings were supposed to help stabilize and strengthen a god's qi. Or at least that's what Hua Cheng told him the earrings did.

So why was Yin Yu feeling worse than before? He tugged at the heavy gold earrings he was wearing, and tried to fight the urge to pass out.

Quan Yizhen immediately grabbed Yin Yu's hands to stop him. He said nothing, but looked with his huge golden eyes.

“Shixiong, let’s make a baby,” he said, eyes full of determination.

“You don’t even know what that means, Yizhen,” Yin Yu spat, trying not to choke from the initial shock.

Quan Yizhen frowned. “I do.”

The blood rushed so fast to Yin Yu's face that his pale skin looked as though it had been suddenly set aflame, like it might burst from the excess blood. Yin Yu couldn't help it when his lips pulled back into a snarl and he said “Well, I don't! I don't want to marry you!”

“But— but I do, I want to marry you, Shixiong, please!” Quan Yizhen pleaded with round puppy dog eyes.

“F-fine then,” Yin Yu stammers out, “but I'll only accept if you can complete three challenges.”

Yin Yu thought he could get away with it if he turned accepting the proposal into an impossibility, but seeing the determination in Quan Yizhen's eyes, he knew he fucked up.

“Ok!” Gods and Calamities, Yizhen seemed excited, of all things. “Three challenges from shixiong sounds like fun.”

Yin Yu exhaled shakily, still trembling from Quan Yizhen's earlier query. He narrowed his eyes, sweeping Yizhen up and down.

“Challenge one,” he said, voice hard, “Sample His Highness Xie Lian's cooking. In front of Hua Chengzhu.”

Quan Yizhen grew pale at once. White as a sheet, eyes wide with horror, he stammered:

“I-I'll do it.”

And so, Quan Yizhen sets off to track down the Night Touring Green Lantern. Yizhen had always found him disgusting to deal with, but he needed that favor, and only he could help him in his quest.

“NIGHT TOURING GREEN LANTERN,” Quan Yizhen yells out after kicking down the wall of a cavern.

Qi Rong screams and drops the leg he had been eating.

“Who are you?????” Qi Rong demands.

“I need a favor,” Quan Yizhen says, and tosses 15 gold bars at him.

“What the fuck?!”

Qi Rong flails his arms around in a futile effort to protect himself, looking rather like a disgruntled green windmill. Quan Yizhen throws another gold bar at him for good measure.

“Where's my shixiong!” Quan Yizhen demands.

“Who?????”

“My—” When Yin Yu arrives to hear this, the other disciples become quiet, as if suddenly held captive by his presence.

“He was disrespecting all his seniors,” says one. 

“NO—  he was an absolute fucking—” Other disciples hold that one down before he can be silenced.

He looked out the window, precisely when a bird was pulling on a branch with its small beak. He felt the weight of a thousand bricks on his shoulders. Could he become a good teacher?

This was what he wanted, of course; yet sometimes, it all seemed so daunting. Sometimes, it felt as though a single misstep would cause him to crumble beneath the weight. And oh, he feared that, he feared it more than anything.

Still, fear couldn't rule his life forever. Even if it was difficult, he wanted to exist for more. His initial intentions were long forgotten, but he had unburied the latent wish to overcome his own ties. If a certain unruly man were to stay by his side, Yin Yu strangely felt that everything would turn alright.

THE END

[masonmiamor]

tell me you love me - - mason mount x reader.

stfu bc why is this gif so cute 😭🙏🏻 💕

Part two to my last fic! You can find that here!

feedback is appreciated! request are currently open so feel free to send ideas and or concepts 🫶🏻

Three weeks passed and still no sign, you felt like the damage was already done and there was no hope left. You could feel yourself lingering and wanting to reach out but you couldn’t find yourself with enough courage to pick up the phone and communicate with him.

Three weeks later and you had enough, you were angry with yourself and him. Mostly yourself because you knew better and had better value to yourself. You weren’t just going to be used over and over again to not get the same energy back?

The temptation to call, to hear his voice was so bad, and it hurt you more than it should’ve. But you weren’t going to make the first move, it was always you. You initiated the conversations and you were tired of having to be the bigger pants.

The only things that helped you forget were reading or watching movies. You went out with your girlfriends but ended up having the worst time. How were you letting this all consume you in the worst possible way?

Work helped you distract yourself, not having to worry about what went inside your head rather being focused, and tasked to finish your job. Today was one of your days off after having worked for three weeks straight, so you decided with a little self care day.

Taking a longer walk in the morning, passing by to buy some new clothes and makeup, shoes, and even a new small purse. Before you went home to your flat, you had two more locations to attend, the bookstore and grocery store.

You loved walking around taking glances a new and latest books or those that came up on your recommendations on social media. You had a few you wanted to buy, so after ordering an ice coffee of your preference, you grabbed a small basket and strolled over the store. Grabbing books, reading the titles and small summaries, flicking through pages to see if it grabbed your attention.

“Buy it.”

You glanced up to see the one and only Mason, leaning against a shelf, you looked over at him, seeing his disheveled hair, his now longer beard, him wearing an all black outfit. You looked around and saw no one, it was almost empty, you took one last glance at the book in your hand before putting it back.

“I-I-I, How did you know I was here?” he looked at you for a minute before shaking his head. “I was here already… This is where you spent most of your time, and I wanted to get something from here as well…” he said shyly, his cheeks burning red. You furrow your brows together, “You? Buying something from a bookstore?”

“Yes, it was for you,” he took his hand from the back showing you the romance book you had talked to him about a couple of weeks ago. Your favorite trope, with a happy ending. You look up and attempt to read his face, but he just stares so attentively to you. “I remembered you talking about it before we went to bed, and-”

“You were actually listening to me?” you say surprised. Mason looks taken back, almost shocked, “Don’t get me wrong, I just didn’t think you were listening to me that day, especially about a book,” you say, attempting to explain. Mason looks down and fidgets with his hoodie strings feeling guilty.

Mason steps closer, you can immediately smell the cologne and aftershave on him, reminding you he was actually there and not just your imagination playing with you. “I always listen to you… About anything and everything,” he confesses. Your mouth slowly gapes open and you try to mutter a response out.

“I read the back, and a couple pages… The characters remind me of us, and what we have, that something special can’t be easily forgotten,” Mason hints. “That when love hurts you but overall makes you happy, it’s real,” he continues.

“I want to talk,” he deadpans. You continue searching and analyzing the book, so confused about what was going on, not trying to confront him just yet. Were you ready to suddenly open up again and talk with him? No and yes. “We’re talking…” you whisper. He cocks his head to the side giving you a “are you serious look”.

“Y/n,” he says seriously.

“Mason,” you challenge, crossing your arms over your chest. You sigh and return the book back to him, “You can’t just buy me a book and expect everything to be okay you know? It won’t work like that,” you say, trying to keep your voice smooth and not reveal the nervousness. “I know it won’t work, I wish it could because I know how happy books make you feel, anything to see you smile again… I would do it. That’s why I'm asking to talk.”

“What if it doesn’t fix things and makes things between us worse?” you find yourself asking, rubbing the side of your arm. Mason was still yours, and you were still his, but thinking about the fact it could no longer be that way scared you. It hurts already but that would be more than painful. “We will never know unless we talk,” he says honestly, taking closer steps.

“I’m just as scared as you are. The same thoughts,” he admits. You jump at the opportunity to escape when you hear a person coming by, reminding yourself you still had errands to run. You quickly blink and clear your throat, “I need to go buy groceries still. How about I meet you in mine in about an hour and thirty?” you say shyly.

Mason nods, “Thank you Y/n.”

When you get into your car, you blink fast, still trying to process seeing him again, and what he said to you. After you calmed down you made your way to the store, played some music, and just looked ahead to the destination. Your mind went back to him, almost bumping into someone as it distracted you.

You bought many snacks and drinks to have more in stock. But you also did buy the missing vegetables, meats and fruits that were missing from your fridge. You planned to make something on the easier side today so you quickly grabbed bread and some cheese from the bakery and deli.

Truth to be said your hands were full when you walked into your flat, you never did have patience to make a double trip, so with much strength in you, you only made one trip when bringing in groceries.

Mason wasn’t here still, so after putting everything away, you arranged the new bouquet of flowers, the living room and your office, well more of a room where you could escape and just read away. Your doorbell ringing startles you, but the sight of Mason has your pulse raising quicker than before.

“Come in,” you say, hearing him thank you. Mason carried a small white bag on his right hand and a smaller bouquet of your favorite flowers on his left. “It’s a small something but I had to buy them when I saw them. They’re your favorite,” he says chuckling. You look up and smile, seeing his smile grow wider at your sight.

Mason attentively watches as you grab a separate vase for his flowers, but makes notice of the freshly new ones on the dining tables. Did you or someone else get those for you? If someone did, then who? He thought.

He follows you into the office room or more of your safe space in your home. You set the glas vase on your desk, opening the white bag to find the two books you talked about that night, along with some chocolate and cookies from your favorite bakery. He clears his throat, walking over to you when you put the new books on the shelf.

it was now or never, the two of you thinked, without knowing it. Your body shifted straight towards him, bringing him into the long and anticipated hug. He felt warm and so perfect between your arms, you didn’t want to let go, it was capturing and a feeling of safety overwhelmed you. When you pull away your foreheads rest against each other, your arms dropping to your sides.

Mason rubbed his nose over your cheek, his hands softly gripping just above your elbows. Your hands remained by your sides, not knowing what to do, he whispered again, “Forgive me.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, your face slightly leaning into his, “I can’t, I-I-I don’t know,” you let out, but you know deep inside the man here pleading for you is the one. He always has been since day one.

“Forgive me… please,” Mason says again, the sincerity in his voice is laced with a tint of begging you. You slowly bring your hands to grip his sides, and he lets out a small groan, “Jesus… Your hands are like silk Y/n…”

“Tell me what’s running through your mind baby, it’s the only way we can help each other out here,” Mason says along the crook of your neck. “Be brutally honest with me, even if you think it may hurt us, or me. Say what you have to say.”

“I have so much to say, because at the end of the day, I’m still hurt by your doings. I won’t blame it all on you, because there are always two sides of a relationship, but you hurt me and I'm scared to let you back in after three weeks.,” you sob out, suddenly back away creating space between you. You can see Mason close his eyes sadly.

“I was there for you mentally and physically but when I asked that from you, I never received it back. It wasn’t fair Mason, it was always me. ME! Who had to fix us always when something went down. Me who had to put the pieces back together even though they weren’t properly prepared.”

“I know you from the back of my hand Mason. We got so close to a point where it was lust and love combined. I was so consumed and convinced you would maybe one day realize what you were doing affected me, and us. But it never came, and I don’t know when it will,” you let out wiping the tears away from your cheeks.

“I’m losing hope here Mason… I’m doubting your love for me and it’s making me feel useless and unwanted. I understand you history and respect what you went through but I don’t know if you’re waiting for the first opportunity where I fuck up to leave or if you’re stuck believing i’m like the others… I can barely read you-”

“You consume every single thought that runs through my mind. Every single one. I get it, I know i fucked up. I know I should’ve committed and communicated with you better but you have to believe me when I say I'm madly in love with you Y/n. How could I not love the woman who hasn’t left my side even after I hurt her?” Mason cuts you off. His words sound as if he were confessing his love to you all over again.

“How could I not love the woman who no matter what stayed by my side during my difficult moments? The one who brought me breakfast in bed excitedly, the one who would kiss my head gently before I left, the one woman who no matter what will prioritize you over herself. I’m so inlove with you Y/n, I can’t make that up…”

“You're the women of my dreams. Always have been, and always will. I know I have given you the opposite of what you expected but that was due to the constant overthinking I did and insecurities taking a toll… My biggest fear was becoming a reality that night I left. I can’t bear the fact of one day losing you and not having you in my arms again Y/n.”

All the talking drags you to sit on your couch. Covering your face when you hear footsteps approaching you and kneeling down facing you. “Let me prove it to you how much you mean to me, let me prove to you I can be the man you need. Let me prove to you just how much I love you, even if it means buying you all the books in the world you dearly love,” Mason says, dragging his hands from the soft carpet to the sides of your legs.

“One more chance please? There’s so much in store for us still, and I only see myself doing them with you,” he says, his brown bright eyes pleading you. The glossy look on his face tells you he’s being for real, not like those past times where he would promise and not live up to his word. Your hand softly meets his cheek, his eyes gazing from your bracelet to your teary face. Mason leans his head on you hand, relishing the feeling and closing your eyes.

“You have to talk to me, Mason. I can’t know what’s going through your head when you shut me out. You can’t plan and do something just to not stick with it and finish in the end,” you say, Mason nods, a small smile spreading on his face. His tears now dried on his freckled skin, “I love you. Forever. I don’t know how you’re so strong to do this, but I will make things right from now, I promise.”

For the first time in forever your heart races and butterflies spread across your chest when you hear him say I love you. The tingly sensation that spreads to your spine declares the effect he has on you. Mason was the one for you, and it will take time to slowly gain back to a stronger relationship. You weren’t so quick to give up but he wasn’t either. Only fate knows how things will end, but in your mind the brown eyed and haired boy was for you.

“I love you Mason,” you lean down grabbing his chin and kiss his lips softly. He sucks in a breath and brings his hand to the back of your head deepening the kiss. He would never get tired of how your lips molded into his, the way you tasted across his lips had him in a daze, it was never enough. When you pull back your thumb pulls his bottom lip down. “This is just the start,” you recall.

“It is a start. But it’s the start to a happy ending for us.”

[veritas-scribblings]

keeps - @bartylusmicrofic- words: 611 [mature / some NSFW overtones]

Barty sleeps in the nude. He’s always done this. Even in winter. Even when they were at school and in separate dormitories and Barty would occasionally sneak into Regulus’s room through the second-floor window because he’s a little bit insane. At first it was for the shock value and the thrill of upsetting Regulus’s dorm-mates who did not appreciate waking to find a naked Barty in Regulus’s bed. And then it was because Barty claimed that sleeping nude was more comfortable. That he runs hot. And he does; Barty’s body is like a furnace.

Regulus sleeps in an oversized shirt. He’s always done this. Even after sex when Barty is soft and loose and wants the feel of skin-to-skin, Regulus will eventually slip a shirt on anyway before tucking himself back into bed. At first, it was because of his discomfort within his own body. But now, after his top surgery and well into his transition when he is mostly passing, when the dysphoric moments occur less and less and he has learned to love his body, Regulus will still wear a shirt to bed. Usually out of habit than anything else these days.

Early morning, Barty is in the kitchen on what looks like his third cup of coffee. It’s cold, the middle of winter, but Barty is nude as he likely just climbed out of bed when the sun woke up. There are two other empty mugs on the kitchen bench and the coffee table, because Barty is a freak who has this thing about reusing the same mug. The coffee tastes different, he claims, in a pre-used mug. Like that makes any sense.

Regulus loves mornings like these, where he isn’t rushing off to the hospital and Barty isn’t energised and a little bit wired from 5am runs and early training. When they’re not tired from work and heated from fighting, and sniping at and hurting each other. When he can remember that they fit together perfectly, that they complement one another, and that they’re stronger together. That Barty was the first and only person he has ever loved and trusted. The first person who truly knew him—the true him—and loved him in spite of it all. Or because of it all.

Shivering and sleepy, Regulus pads over, chuckling at Barty’s appreciatively heavy-lidded stare. He leans up onto his tip-toes, snakes a hand around Barty’s neck and pulls Barty down into a kiss that he melts into immediately. Barty tastes bitter, like coffee, and sweet, like apples. He licks into Regulus’s mouth, tips his head back to deepen the kiss, drawing a drowsy sigh from Regulus.

Crowding Regulus against the kitchen bench, Barty lifts the hem of Regulus’s shirt and slips his hand beneath to caress the smooth skin of his stomach. He nips at Regulus’s lips, presses kisses across his jaw, down his neck before finding his way back to Regulus’s mouth. Early morning, his body responds quickly and easily. Humming, he moans quietly into the kiss, rubs his arousal against Regulus’s hip. And then his hand slides down to reach between Regulus’s legs.

And Regulus squirms away, manoeuvres out from where Barty has boxed him in against the kitchen bench with his arms. It’s absolutely arctic in the house—Barty never has the foresight to turn on the radiator—and Regulus is sure he’ll get frostbite on his arse if they continue what they’re doing out here.

‘Where are you going?’ Barty grumbles. 

Regulus glances over his shoulder to where Barty is still leaned against the kitchen bench, sulking. ‘Back to bed,’ he says. ‘It’s freezing. Are you coming?’