#the pink thing covers my real name he wrote | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chimimon · 21 days ago

Text

Cab Boy

Modern AU - Touya x f!Reader

Disclaimer! What you are about to read contains the following: vulgar language, creepy co-worker, some stalking. Again if I’m missing something pleeaassseeee telllll meeeeee.

& and I have to say is… I started to get lost after the third draft. And then I wrote something for Nanami because I was going to loose my mind looking at manga panels of Touya for any inspiration, but I want to thank E.P.! You’re a real one and I love you for being an English major drop out. I would give you a big fat platonic smooch if HR wouldn’t beat me for it :’)

On velvety old car seats that softly gleamed under the streetlights, you completely melted in the backseat. With your legs to one side, leaning against the window, you watched the city fall behind you and your taxi. It was like dreaming with your eyes open, or like lying down while sitting up. The car smelled of cigarettes and cologne which added to the scene of the night drive.

The release of tension on your hips from standing in place for nearly four hours felt painful, and more so with every bump or hitch in the road. Comically they were just one chair short when you arrived at the main meeting room. But they were sure to save you a spot at an uncomfortably high countertop to type out company dialogue and bullet points. The burn in your wrists couldn’t be soothed as you rolled your balled fists around every couple minutes. The hollow ache only inched further up your arm. In the corner of your eye, you caught your driver’s gaze in the rear-view mirror before he warned you of an upcoming bump, mindful of the back of your head resting against the glass.

“Thank you.” You yawned with outstretched arms and legs, now readjusted and upright. There were still thirty minutes left until you arrived outside your apartment and the driver was staring again with smiling eyes. You thought to ask, “Have I seen you before? Did you pick me up last time?”

“I might have.” A soft tap followed the rhythm of his sentence. “But I drive a lot of people.”

You hummed with a lifted chin. The streetlights blurred the tips of his white hair, and you felt mesmerized by the green and red that paled in it. “Do you like driving all those people, sir?” You crossed a leg sitting tall. Those feathery strands of hair rolled from one shoulder to the other.

“I don’t mind it if most of them are like you.”

“Like me?” You leaned forward and with a lazy raise of your brow. “What about me?”

The red light made him look pink as he looked to you over his shoulder. A black medical mask covered his mouth as he answered. “Quiet, sober, pretty… most things I like in a passenger.” he said thoughtfully.

The word pretty lifted you up again, uncrossing one leg before crossing the other. “Right.” You whispered, and then laughed. Before you could open your mouth to ask for his name you remembered you called the cab online. With the ride information pulled up you looked at his information and smiled.

“Touya Todoroki,” your driver stiffened at your playful tone. “Do you get big tips for calling passengers pretty?”

A deep and airy chuckle was exactly what you wanted to hear. “We’ll see.” He sang after a moment.

Soon the door opened, you exited, and just like that you were home. Before you jogged up the stairs you turned to cordially thank him. You replayed the banter under the yellow light of your doorstep. “Touya,” you read to yourself. I can’t afford it, but I’ll tip you big tonight.

Over end of day coffee and toast, a transfer hire was talking your ear off about paperwork for company plans. The never-ending praises for management and how they “ran a functionally tight ship” made your coffee bitter and toast cold. It felt suffocatingly humid as both the heating and conditioning vents aimed at you in the break room. It had been cold outside, so it was a little too warm inside as boring conversation added to the creeping heat. You lifted up and off the wall from leaning against it as the man spoke. It became apparent that he was not going to let you slip past idle conversation. Every step you took away to leave he took equal steps forward to follow. There was also his wandering gaze on your outfit which you felt he could have at least tried not to be so obvious about. He was clearly appraising your waist, blouse, and neck. The thought of him undressing you with his eyes made you button your collar closed before making haste to your cardigan draped over your chair.

This man was not giving up. At some point you had stopped nodding, equipping your knitted armor of acrylic and cotton, as you began to sit down. “If you're hungry after work, we can-”

“I’m sorry,” You quickly cut in. “But I can’t afford any overtime this week. And, oh- damn. I need to get back to my amazing manager.” Every part of your face smiled but your eyes, ignoring his clear attempt to ask with a lie. “Sorry, but if you don’t mind.” Both hands were put up as you shrugged. “It’s a tight ship, sir.”

Finally, he was leaving. It was like watching a big kid drag their feet away from a playground, but he was finally leaving. With the whole encounter in mind, it was decided that there was no hurt in securing another ride tonight. Sure, going home by taxi added thirty minutes to what was normally a 10-minute rapid train ride, but there was no point in having that man insist on lunch again while you walked to the station; or worse, having to find out that he’s got a car to drive you home in.

Touya saw you had requested another ride and at once claimed your ticket. As the confirmation screen loaded, he noticed your request was made ten-minute’s ago and that he may have just missed you. He crossed his fingers before he dropped his head in relief, grinning as the location details appeared on the screen. This afternoon you had some instructions.

Please pretend to be annoyed that I’m “late”, and speed off once I get in.

Interesting, he thought to himself while he sped over, arriving a little earlier than your pick-up time. Touya tapped on his steering wheel again in anticipation before he exited the car. Without shame he hoped you were wearing another skirt that hugged your waist and hips or that this time that your hair might be down.

As you approached the car Touya was leaning on the passenger side, smoking a cigarette with another black mask resting below his bottom lip as he waited for you. The clicking of your heels in their quick stride drew his empty stare up. You were wearing opaque black tights, an A-line heather skirt, and a baggy cream-colored cardigan, looking especially stuffy with the white-collar button down. As soon as your eyes met, you smirked, and he pulled up the mask before you could take his features to memory. You bowed in pretend apologies, and he clicked his teeth. With some dramatic flair he flung open your door, side eyeing as you got in before smacking it shut. Touya dropped his cigarette onto the street, pressing it into the concrete before he climbed into the driver's seat. As he dropped in, he caught sight of a stalky man staring bullets into your temple.

“Running away from your boss?” He said through rear-view mirror. Touya noted how your face softened in relief as soon as he hit the gas.

“He’s kinda higher up, so...” the window fogged as you spoke to your reflection. “I guess you could say that.”

“He looks like a skinny, uptight asshole.” Touya muttered.

You smirked. “More like a skinny, uptight creep.” a chuckle escaped your lips as you turned to his light blue eyes, smiling at you again. Under gray skies in the late afternoon, they seemed cold. “But I'm happy to see you again, Touya.” You turned to look out the other window.

He slowly blinked and felt something bubble in his chest. “How sweet,” He said too honestly, “Well... I’m sure my acting skills are deserving of another nice tip.” He lifted a brow to the road.

“Oh?” You rolled your eyes. “You think I have that kind of money because I walked out a fancy glass building?”

“Are you saying you only have money for boys that call you pretty, ma’am?”

Ma’am brought an embarrassed blush to your face as the word dripped into your ears. “Do you drive in search of a sugar mama?” You kept up.

“Are you judging me?”

“Just a little.”

Touya clicked his teeth again three times before his voice polished itself into something flirty. “You’re quick, aren’t you?”

Your attention snapped to his reflection as the heat traveled down your neck. Touya ate up the suppressed smile that was cupped in your hands. You leaned toward him again as he entered a freeway.

“Ah, so you aren’t.”

“I think I’m beginning to question my happiness in seeing you again, cab boy.”

“Oh, she bites too.”

“And you don’t, Touya?”

“Just a little.” He purred.

You fell back into your seat and did some people watching at a red light. “Cab boy,” you quietly let out in a quick laugh.

It was the kind of laugh that tightened his jaw and causing him to grip the steering wheel for self-control. Touya was on the clock after all, and you were a paying passenger.

It’d been a week since he saw you, and he was worried you actually couldn’t afford anymore cab rides. If it weren’t completely illegal for him to ask for your account information, just to gather a lucky set of numbers, he would have offered to drive you around for free.

The first time he picked you up was after receiving a request from an older man, so when you and another young woman entered his car, he was pleasantly surprised. You were clearly annoyed, giving him the cold shoulder before talking with a voice that warmed him right up. But you weren’t speaking to him, you were shutting down some poor sucker on the phone with a smile on your face, a taunt in your tone and rolled eyes. You were meanly turning down the man that ordered the cab and he liked it. This vague idea of you lived in his head for a couple of days until he realized he was headed back to that same cooperate office. With all the luck he used driving you around the first time, it was like hitting the jackpot when you hoped in again alone.

It was written all over your body that you were just so tired, taking up all the room in his back seat, wondering if you would stop him from joining in to take up more. Innocently- he thought. But if Touya liked you rude, he liked you better embarrassed. The word pretty did so much to you for just a moment, he could see you falter as he tested the water; watching for go signs as if he could act on them while behind the wheel.

Three rides just days apart was where he felt his luck run dry. Just enough to miss his favorite ride for the week and when Friday arrived, he was starting to think you were using another service for drives. That bugged the hell out of him all afternoon.

Persistence can overcome any obstacle for as long as you harassed the right woman and tonight, in a cold restaurant sitting across from a man that couldn’t take any hints, that woman was you. As drinks were dropped off at your table, he talked about how endearing he found your game of hard-to-get.

“You're just this snippy thing in a frumpy cardigan. But I thought like, like God! If she just looked a little harder, she might appreciate what I’m doing, cause you like roses, right? Women like roses?”

A finger traced circles on the rim of your glass, “They’re pretty, sure.” You knew you were blinking too much, sighing too much, drinking too much water. There was little to no eye contact from your end and honestly, the whole “I’ll at least get a free meal,” thing was not worth this.

“Why don’t you order something to drink? How about a omething as sweet as you, little missy?”

Like hell you were gonna get drunk near this guy. But for just a moment you began to wonder... what would Touya have called you? Would he have asked if wanted something stronger? Would he have even taken you here? Would you have been better off calling for another ride to sit in casual conversation? Without realizing it, you had started to smile at the thought of a taxi driver and your date took it as a sign to reach across the table for your hand. The sudden contact made you jump as he continued to pride himself in the choice of venue, and how he detests men who like something fruity.

Not a single man in your office interested you, but your manager was going on and on about how this temporary transfer was going to take the department places if the team was on their best behavior. What he meant to say was that he’d get a good raise if he babysat a stockholder's son. But once he caught scent that this guy liked you, your manager visited your desk often. Asking you to show this guy how to use certain things in the office, how to label faxes and emails, things that your date knew because they were a transfer, not a new hire. And more time together meant digging deeper to find more excuses to turn him down. All of them were fairly honest and nice, but when he placed his hand on your arm during lunch, pushing your resolve aside with brute force, something sick possessed you to finally say yes to make it stop. It was just luck you would cave in on his last week there. Of course he’d snatch you up the night he leaves the department.

And here he was. Still moving his god forsaken mouth. “Are you gonna look at the menu?” He rested his chin on his fist, making himself taller. “Or are you trying to keep that figure nice n’ light for tonight?” He giggled.

With wide eyes, you thinly smiled, slowly reaching for your stomach. “I actually, I think I’m catching something.” You giggled in nervously.

“Oh, excited I see.” His teeth were too white, and it felt like your eye was twitching.

“I, no I actually...” Your scooted out of the booth, holding your stomach tighter. “I just- can you just excuse me for a second?”

In cold silence, the man's face dropped as you walked past. Nearly running to the restroom, you hid yourself in a stall and pulled out your phone to request another cab. If you could help it, you were going to walk straight past him in hopes he wouldn’t follow if he caught your stride. The cab was confirmed, and you gave it five minutes before you could dart out of the restaurant and down the street. But he started to text you at the two-minute mark, followed by a call.

As soon as it went to voicemail, you blocked his number and walked as fast as you could. The cold night air snuck up your back and shoulders as you began to run a block down and around the corner. There was a set of stairs on the side of a closed café, you pulled out your phone to see the status of your ride. There wasn’t a car to be seen slowing down, and you were getting antsy to leave the area. The site said your ride should have been there, but instead of an engine you could hear footsteps echo from the direction you came. Without looking you went further into the neighborhood to weave through an alleyway. There had to be a convenience store somewhere, and you were going to find it. And a convenience store there was.

As soon as you made your entrance, you saw the man you were running from turn your way. You ducked as the echo of your low pump heels felt like a target was placed on your head. You weaved through a medicine aisle, jogging on your tippy toes to mute your steps. Damn it, you gently kicked off your heels, speeding barefoot on the cold plastic flooring, completely abandoning your shoes. The goal was to be in another stall while you calmly found a new ride. You pushed the door open with your back just to be sure your date hadn’t already spotted you. But as you rushed in, you slammed into another man before the door could close.

“Oh shit.” Your stomach hit the floor as you turned to see the back of another tall man. “Shit! Sorry!” The sound of costumers nearby stopped your outstretched hand from pulling the door open to leave. “I- ah.” You said to the floor, with your heart in your throat.

The stranger was wiping his hands off with a paper towel and did not care to look at you. “Yeah, yeah.” He said about to push his way out. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me-” Touya stared at the back to your head, and your hand on the handle before allowing his gaze to drop.

Oh, he thought. It’s you. How lucky.

Before you could completely turn around to face him, someone tried to push open the door. Touya quickly pushed the door closed with hand planted beside your head. You looked back and up at him with wide eyes and lifted shoulders. To him you looked self-conscious and noted just how different it felt when you weren’t blushing. You looked wild, taking heavy breathes in and out, wearing a short dress that was falling off your shoulder. He watched your eyes focus on his, then he watched your brows furrow, and finally this dog like charm brought on a nervous smile. “No way.” you whispered. “You’re late.”

“I’m never late for you, princess. I’m anything but late.” His smiling eyes taunted. “Besides, someone beat me to it.”

“It? To what-?”

The sound of urgent stomping grew as a man got closer. “How does a door without a lock get stuck?” You heard a familiar voice whine.

“Damn it,” you could just smell the alcohol past their paper white teeth. “Touya stay with me.”

“What-?”

Before the door could be completely swung open you dragged Touya into a stall. He quietly laughed and watched as you climbed onto the tank of the toilet before he locked the stall behind him. “You’re fucking ballsy.”

The thought to say something smart was chased away as your pursuer entered a stall across from you two. He had started to mutter insults about you before turning his attention to an incoming call. You shushed Touya with a finger to his mask, completely unaware of the shit eating grin that hid underneath as you wildly eyed the slit in the stall door.

He turned to door as well, squinting while trying to listen in on this mysterious man you were hiding from. “Well. Go on.” He tilted his head and waited.

“That stupid girl from the analytics department. Yeah. Yes, yes. Her.” You eyed the ceiling in which his voice echoed from. “Yeah, well I’m over here blowing money on drinks for us, and she runs away before she’s gotta put out.”

Touya’s felt his mouth open. He was staring at you before you stared at him, pointing to the inside of your mouth and pretending to gag.

“Yeah well, whatever. I’m over it. Yeah. No, like. No exactly. Seriously. You wanna spoil some chick and- no literally. I know she’s here. No, I’m not- No I wasn’t trying to follow her- I… I have her shoes in my fucking hands.”

With a click and open of his stall, the man had left without washing up. You started rubbing your fingers together as you thought about the impromptu physical contact he made at the resultant.

“I see.” Touya leaned against the stall staring at your bare feet. “So... bad date?”

“Bad is underplaying it.” You whispered still, relaxing a bit in Touya’s presence. “Wait, what are you doing here?”

“I’m off tonight.”

“Oh.” You looked to the side in deep thought. “Oh, okay. It...” finally clicked.

“You said I was late?” He tilted head. “What was I late for, hmm?” He taunted, enjoying how you squinted your eyes at him.

“Nothing apparently.” You crossed your legs on the tank and leaned forward in relief, rubbing your temples. “Nothing I’m fine now.” You stepped down on the lid before stepping onto the floor. The scent of some soapy cologne held you in place as you thought about the man still being outside. “Can I ask you to-” you paused again, taking a deep breathe with some clear anxiety. “Can you leave with me?”

“You know how that’s gonna look, right?”

On cue a blazing heat settled into your face, feeling the embarrassment overwrite anxiety as you seriously contemplated bolting straight to the station barefoot. With a nod and a deep breath in, you dropped your head. “Touya, please?”

That pushed a button. “Please what?” The precious look through your lashes pulled him in. “Go on?”

“Please walk me down the block? You jerk?” You batted your lashes cutting through bashfulness with a grin.

“You got it, baby.”

Touya took you under an arm to hide you in loose hold. The soapy cologne did not hide the sewn in stench of tabaco. It stung on inhale and made you lightheaded as you kept walking. You could feel his grip tighten as you two stepped out the store. When his arm didn’t loosen after going a block down, you slowed down. “Touya, you’re good.” You lifted your hand to peel off his arm, which he did as soon as you touched him.

“Are you sure?” He dug into his pockets to dangle a set of keys. “I can drive you home.”

“I can’t afford that tonight.”

“I don’t want gas money.”

“It’s okay, I-” you stopped yourself as the thought that you were shoeless, a little sweaty, and in a dress occurred.

Touya scratched his neck from in the collar of his hoodie, waiting for you to finish. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you’re face, pal. So, I can’t ask you for a free ride.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” He sounded a little annoyed. “But you can ask to sit pretty under my arm while check-out eyes us down?” Touya dropped his head, deepening his eye contact with you. He had these doll-like lower lashes that held your attention.

“Apparently…” that stung so you backed away. “So, thank you for that I guess.”

Touya was taken aback, kicking himself for being blunt as you sucked in half of your lower lip. “I’m kidding.” He started to play with a string looped around his ear before flicking it off, suddenly exposing his face. “It’s no big deal.”

The corner of your mouth lifted. “How convincing.” you sighed, wistful of the whole night. Touya put his arm out again, waiting for you to walk into him before walking you to his car in a lot another block away.

The silence was thick as he opened the passenger door for you, watching you drop in and shyly get comfortable. His car was clean, empty, and smelled just like his taxi. A sudden Dejavú hit as he hoped into driver's seat. It was foreign to be front passenger of any car, let alone one Touya drove. The car hiccupped as the engine turned, you watched his hands on the wheel when your trail stopped mid-way. It was a stick shift and once Touya got onto the main road, his attention alternated between his hands, feet and the street. He was the heart of the car and it was fun to watch it beat up close.

Touya could feel your gaze as he shifted gears. He smiled a when the down shift caught you off guard and wondered if you had ever been in a manual before.

“Here.” He opened his palm on the top of the shifter. You reached over and gripped the knob, feeling the car shudder at the red light. As soon as the light turned green his hand landed on yours to take off. The car took deep breathes before it trilled at the gas pedal. Touya’s hand was soft, his fingers rested in between yours, and with each shift up you could feel the nighttime moths flood your stomach.

He bit his lower lip pensively and squared his gaze forward as he drove. As soon as he got to sixth gear of the freeway, he smoothed over his thumb on yours. Normally he would have taken his hand off the stick, but he was dragging out the physical intimacy of whatever this was. He wanted more, and selfishly placed you hand in your lap with his lingering on top. When Touya began to lift his hand, you lifted yours as well to re-lace your fingers with his.

That same burn in your hips returned but it was accompanied by cold feet and arms. The adrenaline was leaving your body and you shuddered at its exit. The chatter of your teeth began to rival whatever was playing on his stereo. Touya unceremoniously tore his hand from yours and laughed when you softly pouted. The car slowly leaned into another lane as Touya took off his hoodie. With his knee he brough the car back into the lane as he slipped off the last sleeve. Your look of bewilderment made him flush as he placed his hoodie on your lap. “Put it on,” he nodded self-consciously. “Come on...” He sighed.

You faced him with a cheeky smile and he rolled his eyes. Thinking back on it, his hoodie looked big on him but seemed to grow on you as soon as you slipped it over your head. With your knees to your chest, tucking them in for warmth, you breathed in all the lingering cologne and cigarette smoke in the neck.

“Thank you.” You tilted your head toward him and hummed.

“No problem, princess.”

#touya todoroki #touya x reader #touya x y/n #touya x you #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n

72 notes · View notes

frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year ago

Text

♡ peanut butter & tears ♡

♡ Pairing: idol!boyfriend!minho! x fem!reader

♡ Summary: A week after Minho goes public with your relationship, a ghost from your past posts a stream of tweets on social media revealing your darkest secrets to millions and, more importantly, your boyfriend.

♡ Genre: angst/fluff

♡ Word Count: 1.1k-ish

♡ Warnings: mention of sex, brief discussion of scars/stretchmarks/self harm/people being assholes on the internet (none of it's graphic but still important to warn you of, my loves)

♡ A/N: I love and appreciate @aprilskillstory not only for submitting this but for being super patient while I wrote it and for trusting me to write it at all. I named this after a DPR Ian song btw. If you haven't heard it, it's magical.

This is a nightmare...

Actually, it’s much worse than that. Nightmares you wake up from. This is real life. No alarm clock will ring to snap you out of it. This is happening. Sinking further down into the lukewarm water of your bubble bath, you look on helplessly as your phone lights up with notifications. Every few seconds the number in the top right corner of a half dozen apps doubles, triples in some cases.

Minho’s decision to go public with your relationship had initially gone much nicer than you anticipated. A week had passed with minimal backlash and what you did receive had begun to die down before the stream of tweets that have you preferring to prune than to crawl out of this tub and face him.

There's no telling who would have posted them. Tweet after tweet detailing things that you’ve wanted with everything in you to open up to Minho about. You’ve tried a million times and a million times your admissions have gotten caught in your throat, jagged and barbed, refusing to budge.

But someone dragged them out and your soul along with them, putting your secrets on display for a merciless crowd set on tearing you away from their beloved Minho.

“Trauma like that can’t make her a stable girlfriend.”

“Self harm scars? No wonder she’s always covered up in pics…”

“Our Lino deserves better.”

“She’s dated girls too? Do you think he knew?”

“If Minho knew he wouldn’t be with her.”

You scroll through reply after reply until your screen’s too wet for your touch to register. You’re startled by the sound of Minho shouting, his voice muffled through the thick walls of your apartment but his rage is unmistakable. Placing your phone on the chair by the bathtub, you hop out before courage abandons you.

“It’s gonna be okay” you repeat to yourself, wrapping a towel around you to form a lilac safety blanket, “Everything’s gonna be okay. Just breathe.” Footsteps descend down the hall and you breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. Slow breaths full of intent like the pink haired girl in the yoga pants on Youtube instructed you to do.

“You’re the only big brother I have. Just, please, don’t let them come here” Minho begs, standing in the doorway with his phone to his ear, “I’ll come after. I promise. Thank you.” He hangs up, turning to you, his gaze transforming you into stone like one of the foolish men who dared to lay eyes on Medusa. The rise and fall of your chest ceases almost to the point of lifelessness.

“Minho, I can explain…” He folds an arm across his chest, nervously tapping his phone against his temple, “That you hid things from me?” “I didn’t hide anything. At least, not on purpose. I didn't mean to do it.” “Then what did you mean to do? Hmm? You know what I do for work. What were you thinking?” “Fuck, I don’t know” you weep, sitting on the edge of the tub.

You tilt your head back, hoping to send the tears rolling back to where they came from but it’s no use. They only pool in your eyes, clouding your vision so that the only thing you see as Minho approaches is the distorted silhouette of his figure. “I wanted to tell you, I did, but I was afraid it’d be too much at once. That you’d hate me like other guys in the past have.”

You’re rambling, breathing heavily, blindly reaching for tissues. Minho leans your head forward, resting your left cheek on his stomach while he strokes the other side of your face, soothing your anxiousness. “Hate you? Hate…you?” he asks, more offended by your statement than you expect, “I need you to look at me.” Sniffling, you turn to look up at him and he’s…smiling?

“I love you. Nothing could ever make me hate you. I just wish you’d come to me so I could've protected you. If I had known…” “Wait, you’re not mad?” “At what?” “That I’ve, you know, dated women before.” Minho shrugs, “Jisung’s basically my last resort if we break up so, uh, no.” “But my scars and my stretch marks…” Kissing you on the forehead, he backs away and begins to take his shirt off.

“When you asked me to have sex with the lights out did I ever argue?” For the first time since you met, it sets in that he had, in fact, never questioned why you never wanted the lights on. Come to think of it, you usually didn’t need to ask for them to be off. They already were. Minho tosses his shirt to the ground, running his fingers along the scar that marks his abdomen, “I was afraid you wouldn’t like mine either.”

“Wouldn’t like it?” you scoff, unable to fathom how you’d ever find him anything short of beautiful, “It’s a part of you. I love anything that’s a part of you.” Minho sits down beside you, delighting in seeing you even partially uncovered for the first time, “The feeling’s mutual.” The sound of a vibrating phone grabs your attention. You glance over at the chair. It’s not yours.

Minho digs his phone out of his pocket, groaning as he scrolls through text messages. “Shit, I have to go do damage control” he huffs, jumping up to toss his shirt back on, “But when I come back we have to talk. I have questions about the scars if you’re comfortable? Just to make sure you’re okay.” “Uh, yeah, sure that’s okay. I’ll make us some food for when you get back and you can ask me whatever.”

His phone vibrates again, this time it’s a call. “What?” he whines, “I’m on my way. No, I really am. I’m in the car right now. Oh no, you’re breaking up. Oh…” Minho’s phone hits the bath water with a splash, sending bubbles cascading down the walls. “Oops,” he gasps, knowing very well it wasn’t an accident.

Minho gives you a dozen more kisses on your lips, on your forehead, on your cheeks, before he’s dashing around the apartment searching for his keys. “And stay off of social media unless you plan to make a list of everyone who says something bad so I can fight them! Love you!” he shouts on the way out the front door. “Love you too!” you shout back before it closes.

Left alone in the silence of the aftermath, you nibble at your bottom lip, nervous at having finally found someone this accepting but beyond happy that he exists. That he’s yours. A phone vibrates again. Your phone. Picking it up you see that it’s a call from someone you haven’t spoken to in a while. No doubt with questions about what’s been going on. You stare at it for a moment, contemplating answering but then...

“Oops” you gasp, letting your phone slip into a watery grave beside Minho’s, “Tragic.”

#lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know angst #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #lee know fluff

436 notes · View notes

baby-yongbok · 1 year ago

Text

Poetry

Chapter One - Last Copy

Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, the kind that makes you blush a little.

Word Count: 1,433

A/N: Hyunjin's airport outfit got me thinking so I just wrote this cute little thing real quick! I'm thinking about making it another mini series so let me know if you want a part two! I'm putting way too much on my plate but I can't help it 😭

Summary: You meet a cute stranger at your favorite bookstore cafe.

Part Two

✧Poetry Series Masterlist✧ ✧Main Masterlist✧

You browsed the shelves for your favorite poet's new release. You were determined to buy it in both paperback and hardcover before it went flying off the shelves. You skim the spines of the many books searching for the poet’s name when you finally come across it. A wide smile paints your face as you reach for the final hardcover copy, that smile quickly drops when your hand collides with one of a stranger next to you. You must've been so focused that you hadn't noticed him.

"Pardon me." He apologizes softly, slightly bowing his head towards you.

"No no, it's alright. I should've been paying attention." The two of you stand there glancing between each other and the book for a second too long before he breaks the silence.

"You reached for it three seconds before me so you should have it." The tall man grins down at you as he picks up the book and holds it out to you. "I can always get it online. "

"Oh no, it's fine! I can just buy the paperback." You give him a kind grin and his lips pull into a thin line.

"Well then you really should take this then because I just picked up the last paperback." A quiet chuckle leaves his lips as he holds it up momentarily for you to see. You can't help but smile and giggle a bit as you push a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Ah, okay, well in that case how could I turn down a hard cover of my favorite poet?" You take the book from him and start to study it immediately. You sigh happily as you run your fingers over the cover, taking in every detail. "I love their book design. Every single one is so unique and fresh, it really reflects their work perfectly."

"I agree, I think that the use of abstract art on the cover is a beautiful touch." You smile up at him again and this time you take a moment to study his features. His jet black hair is in a half up half down style and his circle lens glasses compliment his shining eyes perfectly. Not to mention his pink lips and structured jaw which are the icing on a very handsome cake. You take in his black sweater and matching black pants, his style is very attractive and from the looks of his Versace necklace very expensive.

"I think so too, it's one of the things that drew me to them." He grins down at you and shakes his head slightly. He tilts his head to the side a bit before letting the tip of his tongue dip out of his mouth and skate across his bottom lip. You notice his eyes wandering over your frame and for some reason the action is welcomed by you. You don't feel uncomfortable in the slightest. He catches himself staring and suddenly holds his hand out to you.

"I'm Hyunjin by the way." You blush slightly as you grin up at him.

"Y/n" He smiles at your name and you can't help but to look down at your feet for a second. Your hands stay together in a handshake for a few seconds too long before you let go.

"Well, Y/n, uh I was actually about to sit at the Cafe up front and get started on this book... Would you maybe want to sit with me? We can share our thoughts on it. That is if you aren't busy or anything." He pulls his lips into a thin line and the tips of his ears turn a bit red as his nerves start to get to him. You smile blushing a bit yourself.

"I um.. I actually think that I'd like that a lot." He smiles as he pushes up his glasses and looks away towards the bookshelf for a second, most likely to stop himself from smiling like an idiot, not like it matters though, at this point the blush covering both of your cheeks is a dead give away to your excitement.

"Great, after you." You shake your head and turn on your heels leading the way over to the Cafe where the two of you stare at the menu. "I don't know why I'm even looking, I get the same thing every time."

You chuckle as your eyes land on exactly what you'd like. "What's that?"

"An iced americano and a white cream latte." You furrow your brows towards him curiously.

"Two coffees?" He blushes a bit, bringing his hand to the back of his neck and scratching softly

"I may have a caffeine problem." He chuckles a bit and you follow suit. "What would you like? It's on me."

"Oh no, you don't have to."

"I insist." He smiles down at you with bright and excited eyes and you feel yourself melt a bit.

"I suppose I can't turn down free refreshments" You step forward towards the cashier and start your order, once you're done Hyunjin adds his items and he reaches into his pocket to pull out his Versace wallet. Who exactly is this guy? He has very expensive taste. You watch as he skims the many cards in his wallet and your face heats up a bit when he pulls out a black card. Okay, no really who is this guy?

"Wanna find us a table?" He asks as he stuffs his wallet back into his pocket. You nod in agreement and quickly retreat to your favorite table in the back corner of the cafe. You get comfortable, crossing your legs indian style and leaning back against the plush booth. You take your phone out of your purse to briefly check your messages but before you could reply to anyone Hyunjin approaches with a tray full of refreshments.

"Here we go." He sits across from you, serving you your items from the tray.

"Thank you very much." You smile as you take your mug and bring it up to your lips briefly, taking a sip. You smile to yourself as you let the warmth of your drink surge through you.

"So, Y/n, do you come here often?" Hyunjin asks as he sips his Americano and you can't help but to chuckle

"Really? You used that line?" He grins slightly but it quickly turns into a smile and a quiet embarrassed laugh as his fingers caress the skin of his neck.

"I'm sorry, I guess I’m a little rusty. I honestly don't talk to alluring women such as yourself often..I'm usually quite reserved? Kind of the shy type socially.”

You smile and you can feel a blush creeping up on your cheeks. " I could say the same.. I don't talk to alluring men very often. I only read about them."

Hyunjin smiles, his fingers interlacing as he brings them up towards his face and leans in towards you. "Call me crazy but I have a feeling that you'll be more interesting than any book I've ever read."

Okay, you're definitely blushing now. "Yeah? I think I could say the same about you."

Hyunjin looks down at his lap with a wide smile, He licks his lips before grabbing his coffee and takes a long sip before looking back up at you with flushed cheeks.

"So, do you come here often? Because if you do I will too." You tilt your head to the side slightly with a curious eyebrow raised.

"Is that right?"

"I wouldn't lie to you." He mimics your curious demeanor.

"I come here at least once a week." He shakes his head as he picks up his drink.

"Looks like I need to change my schedule." You smile as you take a piece of the cinnamon roll that you ordered with your tea.

"Looks like you do." You both hold a smile as your eyes search each other's.

"So... this book, how about I read it to you?"

"You want to read me poetry?" He nods confidently as he reaches for your copy of the book. "You just want to touch the hardcover."

"That is true, you caught me" a playful smile pulls at his lips and you smile back, crossing your arms as you lean forward and rest your elbows on the table.

"Hm, fine but if you damage it you owe me a new copy."

"Deal." He smiles as he opens the book and you watch as his long slim fingers flip through the pages. "Alright, ready?"

You pick up your mug and take a sip before grinning and smiling towards him.

"Ready"

♡ Next Chapter ➟

352 notes · View notes

kusakiguzen · 5 months ago

Text

Yandere Knight Akaashi Kenji x Isekai!MaidReader

(Credits to the owner i just yoinked it from pintrest)

English is not my first language

A/N: Hiiii I'm finally done. Its vauge but i promise it'll make sense in part 2. Hope you enjoy reading as much as i loved writing it. One more thing. DO YOU WANT AN OPEN OR CLOSED ENDING??

THIS IS MY STORY DO NOT REPOST (REBLOG IS FINE). DO NOT COPY OR STEAL. CREDIT TO THE ARTIST FOR THE IMAGE.

(orange=You, blue= Akaashi, purple=Head maid, green= extra, pink=Saintess)

Y/N L/N, was a 25 year old collage student who was persuing her dream of getting a medical degree and become a successful doctor/surgeon. With great knowledge in Medicines and great interest in Herbology, studied really hard to be at her top of her class.

But she had great love for anime and otome games, her personal favorite anime was 'Haikyuu' a sports anime. She was obsessed with it, and when she found out that there was going to be an Otome game releasing featuring the main cast of the Haikyuu, She was sold.

The first otome game, that she played about Haikyuu was feturing the story line with MC being an extra manager of karasuno 'VLB CLUB', and then many other otome games started to gain popularity.

One day she decided to scoure the Internet to find a unique Haikyuu tome game that didn't make the MC a manager of any team.

She found it. It was called " Lovers Call For Help". It featured the ain haikyuu cast in a historical era. It also had side stories and everything.

She decided to read the side stories first. After reading them. she started the game. The MC was an isekai/reincarnated Saintess, who was there to heal and get rid of the demonic monsters.

Typical cliche. she completed it in one sitting but also became sleep deprived. After the game ended it asked for her name again, Y/N wrote down hwer OC name again, but it said incorrect. And then asked her for her REAL NAME.

This caused Y/N to be confused but she remembered about the policy terms so she typed her real name 'Y/N L/N'. Then the screen showed 'THE END' and said "THANK YOU FOR PLAYING Y/N L/N". which she found creepy but also she was too sleepy to think straight.

She soon fell asleep with her phone, when the screen suddenly turned ON and on the screen displayed

'YOU ARE IT'

Y/N woke up to he name being called.

Miss Y/N are you listening? Said the head maid

HUh?.... What? said Y/N in confusion displayed on her face

You must sign th--- Are you feeling okay Miss Y/N? You suddenly look pale... The head maid asked with concern.

I-- i where- ? At this point there were millions of thoughts going through her head. Where was she? How did this old women know her name? Why does she look so mch like the character from the game she played? Is she dead? is this women someone who will measure her good and bad deeds? All these thoughts were interupted by the same voice again laced with concern.

It is alright if you would like to continue this tomorrow..

Yes that would be much appreciated.. Thank you Miss uhm

Beatrice, Beatrice Graves

Ah yes Thank You Miss Graves. I will be contacting you soon.

With that Y/N gave her a bow and ran out the door holding her mouth to prevent herself from puking.

On her sprint towards the bathroom she colided with what felt like a wall. She looked up to see him Akaashi Kenji

No no no no no NO NO NO. Why why why why why WHY WHY WHY!! WHY IS HE HERE????

Excuse me I must hurry. She ran towards the bathroom without looking back leaving a confused Akashi behind.

Y/N ran for her life to get somewhere she could breathe without hyperventilating.

Unable to find a bathroom, she finally found a lake and finally vomitted near a tree, after she was done, she covered it with some dirt because it was unhygenic to leave it that way.

She went to clean her mouth in the Lake but noticed her appearance. She looked prettier, her dark circles were gone, her skin was glowing and overall She looked healthy. Apart from that she also noticed she looked slightly animated.

'is this really me ' She thought while touching her face . suddenly she got a headache a really painful one & memories started pouring in, memories that were not her's.They were the memories of the owner of the body.

Y/N L/N daughter of a fallen Noble, The downfall was caused by her father's and brother-in-law's gambling addiction which her mother and sister refused to do anything about. when it came time to pay the piling debts, they couldn't and begged Y/N for help.

Being a pushover She agreed and decided to get a job as a maid.she worked for a Count namely Count Octavious , but after a lot of pestering from her family about her "Not giving them enough money" She decided to work at the palace. She passed all the tests to work in the palace All she had to do was write & sign a contract. which is when she (Y/N) Got reincarnated.

WOW ! What Shitty family i'll have to support ' She though while clutching her head while groaning in pain and using another tree as support.

She finally noticed the small bag near her which looked suspiciously similar to her own bag in her Real world. She reached out with shaky hands and realised, it was her bag, It had her Journals, Tablet and her basic necessities, Basically everything she carries to her collage.

Damn there is no way! She erupted in a phsycotic laughter realising this was not dream. You might ask what made her come to this conclusion? Its because there was a card.... A card that said "Welcome To Lover's Call For Help, We the authors Hope you will enjoy this, Please play as you please. Thank you"

After she read it it disappeared into some glowing particles.....

With that she decided to survive, not submissively like the manhwa and shit she read.. by faking herself .... No she'll live and make sure to enjoy every second of it.

Akaashi Kenji, The Captain of the Royal Guard, The Emperor's Right Hand Man and most of all The Heir Of the Akaashi Dukedom. He was a clam and collected man with a pinch of humor and sassiness, complete opposite of the Emperor Bokuto Koutaro, who was a Hyper and simple minded man. Bokuto was always kept in check by Akaashi due to his habit of making impulse decision.

Today he was tasked (more like forced) to meet the qualified applicants of people who are going to be maids in the palace. Now you might be wondering 'why there are tests to become a maid?' There aren't if you want to become a normal maid but for a higher position, you need higher qualifications. Especially in the Royal Palace.

Just as he was on his way to the Head Maid's Office, He bumped into a girl who looked extremly pale. She looked at him and looked absolutely terrified as if he wasn't supposed to be there. She Excused herself leaving Akaashi confused. He shrugged and continued his way to the Office.

He reached the office and knocked and heard a soft "Come in'

Ahh Sir Akaashi, Right on time. Said Beatrice

Madame Graves,... is the list ready? Asked Akaashi

Yes! We have some promising people this year, one of them in particular, but she felt sick so she will sign the contract tomorrow. told Beatrice.

I see.. That is great news.

Yes it is indeed.

I will see you later then Madame. I hope you have a pleasant evening. He said with a small smile

I hope for your day to be magnificent as well Sir Akaashi. She said with a bow

Y/N did go back to sign the contract but she did add her own conditions since it was allowed. Her conditions were

The abilty to refuse: If a noble takes interest in the employee but the employee is uncomfortable with the advances, she is allowed to refuse such advances without conseqences.

Protection guaranteed: The employee will not take any orders that may endanger the employee's life without conseqences.

Guaranteed vacation days: Employee must be given atleast 4-6 days of paid vacation. it can be saved and used in bulks.

Direct handing over the payment: The employee will be given the payment directly no matter. If Anyone claim to collect it for the employee, it is false unless the employee themself confirm with the Employer (In this case Madame Beatrice Graves).

If any of the above condition are to be broken the contract will be terminated immediatly with fine of 25 gold.

Are these terms satisfying for you Madame? said Y/N

Yes, You are quite clever. No one has ever used the blank space given for the employee's conditions. Said the Beatrice amused.

Well it is for our use isn't it Madame?. Said Y/N with a chuckle.

It is. You will be starting tomorrow then Ms L/N.

Please call me Y/n Madame, and yes.

I hope you have a pleasant afternoon. And you may get comfortable in the dormatories.

I hope your afternoon is pleasant as well. And I will. Y/N said excusing herself with a bow.

Two Years later. ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

It had been two years since Y/N got reincarnated and started working as a maid. A lot of things happened, the main thing was Y/N cutting of her family. Her family did take her to court on the 'oral Contract' of her promising to pay off all their debts. That's where she decided to fight back, which was surprising for her family. She used their own words against them by telling the judge "I only promised to pay the debts and i have paid them enough money to pay it off, your honor". she showed the proof as well. Her family tried to justify that they have to eat and drink as well but it was shut down. She also showed the law that stated that she was not obligated to support their reckless activity. No matter what her family tried, they were unable to win.

The second was that, She Got Promoted!!! Why u might ask? due to her knowledge from her original world, of being a doctor and kind of an herbologist. Which meant more money!! She Already planned to leave once she had enough money to retire from being a maid and opening a small clinic in the village near her house. With the promotion, she brought a small cottage in a desolated area on the mountains near the woods. It did cost her a year worth of her salary but... its worth it.

The Game would begin in about a month, so all she had to do was live.... SURVIVE the war of love... Orrrr she could just quit today. I mean she has enough money to live modestly sooo. Naahhhhh, who lives modestly when they can live lavishly. So she decided to stay. Just till the story starts.

A secrete between you and me... She liked Akaashi. Not like, she Loved him. In the game Akaashi was the epitome of a green flag and the softest yandere. She really hoped that Akaashi got his ending, A Happy Ending and not the cliche ending of " PrOtEcTiNg ThE FeMaLe LeAd FrOm ThE ShAdOw". She pitied the poor man, but wasn't interested in risking her life for some character, even if she loved him . She started to stalk him during her free time, not full on yandere creepy stalker, but the little stalking everyone does to their crush. Since she knew how to draw, Y/N had a journal dedicated to him, which was quite expensive, since paper and ink are expensive in this time/game. also one of the reason she doesn't have enough money to leave but that's not important . In her defense she needs a souvenir. But she won't pursue him because she wants to escape Tacitly. But she didn't Notice her little hobby had already caught someone's attention.

Akaashi Kenji was used to Girls even women, following him around and giggling at his sight but it never fazed him. He Ignored them, Why? simply because he was not interested and he was too busy to give them time. But he was never rude to them, asking them to leave with a pleasant smile, he has a reputation to maintain.

He never noticed anyone special, well... not until he saw Y/N. She was average looking, does her job well, is educated which is verry uncommon. That never interested him, She was very average compared to the women whom he has seen in the Balls, hell even the maids working with her. But something........ something drew him to her. One day, during his regular petrol, he saw Y/N. But after she spoted him, She gave him a bow and left. A paper fell from her book, so he followed her to give it back. But he got curious and opened the page..... it was HIM.. Full of his drawing, very nicely drawn too.

This spiked his curiousity. He left the page under her rooms door and left. He asked the shadow knights to find out everything about her. He was surprised to find out that she worked there for years. Slowly this simple curiosity turned into a spiral of obsession.

A month passed and the Saintess arrived. Just as the prophecy stated, She fell from the sky. But something was off from Akaashi's point of view. She was already acting as if she was a higher status than any and everyone. Or is it just in his head,... Nevermind then, he was already busy with his duties. Coincidently he had to visit Beatrice (Head maid) for something, Also to catch a glimpse of Y/N but that's irrelevent.

Sir Akaashi, What brings you here?

The list Lady Graves... You forgot to send the list new recruits to my office...

Ahh my apologise, One of our maid is quiting hence it has been hectic.

Someone is quiting? That is a surprise.

Yes... that to a capable maid.

May i inquire who?

Y/N, Y/N L/N, She says she wants to open a small shop and live her life.

Y/N's Leaving....?

yes, and here you go

Thank y--

As Akaashi was about to thank Beatrice, he was interupted by a soft knock.

Who is it?

Its me Head Maid, Y/N. May i come in?

Her sweet voice. The voice that was melody to his ears. He signaled the head maid to invite her in.

May I help you Y/N?

Yes- oh Sir Akaashi... Good afternoon.

Good afternoon to you as well Y/N

Anyways, I'd like the conformation of my resignation?

Yes, it was approved, you may leave after 2 weeks.

I see Thank you. With a quick curtsy to both the head maid and Akaashi she left.

"HOW COULD YOU!! No HOW DARE YOU LEAVE? WHY ARE YOU LEAVING.....Please stay. Should I trap her? Break her legs? NO No no. I shouldn't think like this." these were the thoughts going through Akaashi's head while he made his way back to his office.

"That's right I could just ask her? Can't I? I do realise we aren't close but i assume it isn't a secrete. I'll ask her the coming week" He thought satisfied with a low hmm.

It hadn't even been 3 days after Akaashi found out that his love Y/N was leaving. He made his way to the maid's quarters, He noticed a commotion.

I saw her steal Your Holiness Please beleive me!! A maid was kneeling while pointing at Y/N who stood tall.

Now, Why would I need jewelry when I have enough money to afford about 20 of them? Y/N stated with an innocent look on her face (which got Akaashi Hard immediately)

Because you are jealous of Her Holiness, You said it your self!!.

'Bruh what a Headache' My dear I've already quit so what good will this cheapass Jewelry do for me? Bitch.

See Your Holiness, Even her mouth is foul.

Halt, Please Y/N where were you 3 days ago when the neckless went missing?

I was---

She was with me Your Holiness. Akaashi intervened speaking from the crowed

She was?

Yes I had bumped into her at the Head Maid's office. She was there to get her resignation.

I see this proves Miss Y/N Innocent

Thank you Your Holiness.

No problem, If i were you I'd be careful with my tongue.

Thank you for the advice, Y/N said with a smile

After that encounter, Akaashi went to Y/N to check up on her. If she was alright. then knowing she was fine, he asked her to walk with him. They shared pleasantries and, Akaashi finally asked why she was quiting. Her replay was the same but she also added " others were jealous and trying to sabotage me. Plus i hate getting involved in drama like the one today. I an see it happening again".

If I got rid of it will she stay? I should get rid of that damn maid. Akaashi thought. With that they said their good byes and parted ways

The Next day, body of the maid who had was found. She had committed suicide, it also had a note of confession saying how she plotted to frame Y/N because of how much everyone loved her.

A few days passed

And Akaashi was summoned to be a witness for what the Saintess was saying

The saintess claimed it was Y/N's fault she must be punished accordingly. Akaashi intervened asking what was Y/N's fault? The fact that she defended herself? her dignity? her life ahead? WHAT WAS THAT SHE DID WRONG??

The Saintess's claim was shut down after what Akaashi said, Since He was the most trusted.

Then came the day of Y/N's departure. No one except Akaashi was their to bid her farewell. But what he did surprised her. He leaned down to kiss her on the lips not a peck, But full make out session. Y/N started to feel dizzy and then suddenly lost conciousness.

She woke up in a lavish room. Decorated with golds and gems but no silver. She was told by Akaahi that she suddenly got fever between the kiss and he apologised for what he did. Y/N dismissed it and asked if she could leave. He told her that her fever was down but not gone, So she should stay till she recovers.

They started dating after Akaashi's heartfelt confession. And after that he just couldn't keep it in his pants.

But she only got progressively worse, her fever would come back anytime. She got weaker and paler ( paler as in weak as fuck not the skin color). But there came a point her health stopped deteriorating. This caused her to get suspicious. Why? Because Akaashi had proposed to her claiming to love her and she accepted.

Was Akaashi trying to kill her because she stood against the Saintess?

Soon she was able to fool one of the maids serving her to get her a silver jewelry and to her fear....... She was correct. The Silver turned black. How could she be So STUPID. He protected the FL from the shadows meaning killing without hesitation or remorse.

So she escaped... in the dead of night that very day. It was hard but she was able to reach the shore and catch the last ship and she finally escaped death..... or she thought.

On the other side, Akaashi was losing his mind... HOW DARE YOU!! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!! HOW COULD YOU. HE TREATED YOU SOO WELL AND THIS IS WHAT HE GETS???!!

He finally saw the letter you left.

Dear Kenji, I do love you very much, but i know you love Aurelia (the saintess). Hence the reason for you poisoning me... I would have loved to spend my life with you but I'm afraid i won't be able to. I'll leave forever so that you won't have to worry about me hurting Aurelia. I hope You Will Be Happy

Your Lover Truly

Y/N L/N

What? What are you talking about? loving that bitch? who he was planning to kill? Did someone decive you? That's right someone must have lied to you..... You Still love him! You said it yourself....

Don't worry he'll find you an clear this misunderstanding.

I'm coming my dear....

A/N: FUCKING FINALLY.!!! I'm done!! I'll make a part two with the dark stuff and smut cuz i wanted to build a base for this story. Probably more than part 2.. Soo STAY TUNED

Hope You Enjoy!!

STAY SAFE, HEALTHY AND HYDRATED ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

#akineedshelp #yandere x reader #anime x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu akaashi #hq akaashi #royal au #knight au #x reader #x-reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n

54 notes · View notes

alltheyoungmoons · 3 months ago

Text

Record Shopping

@wolfstarmicrofic | 997 words | Rated T | ATYD Timeline Compliant | CW mention of war (nothing major)

Unintentionally wrote this on a whim yesterday and realised it fit the last two July prompts "Missing Scene" and "Fluff". Wrote this to slot into the 1979/1980s chapters of ATYD and I reference a couple of things from this other incredible short fic by @snailwriter. Song referenced is this.

March 1980 started and ended with a full moon. Remus tried to see the irony of being welcomed into his twenties by a Blue Moon. If that wasn’t an omen of things to come… but then again, he had opted out of taking Divination.

It had been a gruelling start to the year, but with the news of “Baby Prongs” on the way and the fact that Remus had been relegated to minor duties, he and Sirius had spent more time together without fighting than ever since the beginning of the war.

Remus’ birthday fell on a Monday, so Sirius insisted on going out to celebrate that Sunday, just the two of them. They ended up record shopping in Kensington, pressed shoulder to shoulder while sifting through crates of records in companionable silence. Sirius was often quiet these days.

He was busy inspecting a copy of Pink Floyd’s The Wall when Sirius called out for him from the new releases section, waving a dark-covered record as to beckon him and grinning like a madman. He snaked his way across the displays, his eyes never leaving him, relishing in how alive he looked, a glint of the incandescent kid he’d once been illuminating his silvery irises.

“What do we have here” Remus mused when Sirius held the vinyl in front of his chest to show off the cover. It was a picture of the band - three men glancing directly at the camera with various expressions and a woman with a mane of ginger curls on her profile. Remus thought that they all sorta looked like they belonged in Slytherin, but didn’t mention it, as not to upset Sirius and as to pretend, even if just for a couple of hours, that they weren’t themselves, that they didn’t know anything about wars and dead relatives and they were just two normal, dumb twenty-somethings in love. Of course this all but lasted five seconds before Sirius, still grinning with his gaze fixed on Remus, flipped the record on the back and pointed to the fourth track with his slender index finger.

Remus had to read the short sentence three times.

“Are you fucking for real?”

“Moony, it’s perfect!”

Remus was stunned. He knew Muggles had some knowledge of magical creatures, from their shared heritage that they shrug off as “folk tales”, but he hadn’t lived between Muggles for so long that it was shocking to see such evidence in the wild, so to speak.

“You better like it because this is your birthday gift.”

“I already chose my three records, actually”

“Well lucky you I’m feeling generous, so I’m getting you a fourth. Even if they do kinda look like pretentious prats, don’t you think?”

“You’re one to talk” Remus scoffed

“Moony, don’t start calling me names now, or we won't be able to make it back to bed in time.”

Remus went to pick up the copy of The Wall he’d left behind, plus the latest single by Blondie and London Calling, which had come out a few months before. Sirius slipped him some cash and he paid, as the other boy was -still- not very acquainted with muggle currency.

They got home and had takeout from Huang’s, who was kind enough to gift them a couple of beers when he found out it was about to be Remus’ birthday. They sat in the living room, evening into night, listening to music, and as midnight quickly approached, Sirius put on the record he insisted on buying, with that stupid song. It wasn't bad, though a bit to rockabilly for Remus' taste. As the grandfather clock in Flat 7 chimed twelve times, the stereo started thumping a steady rhythm accompanied by strumming chords that sliced through the silence, immediately captivating. After a few riffs, a low voice started drawling out

I was a teenage werewolf Braces on my fangs I was a teenage werewolf And no one even said thanks And no one made me stop!

The two boys froze, exchanging a glance. It was Remus who broke first, melting into a fit of hysterics.

“It’s so stupid!”

“I know! It’s brilliant!” Sirius was wiping his eyes. How long had it been since they were happy tears?

I had a teen-land mind I had to blow my top And under teen full moon No one could make me stop! No one could make me stop!

Sirius slipped from the sofa to snuggle up to Remus, who had lain on the floor catching his breath. He kissed the tip of his nose, gently.

“Happy Birthday, Moons.”

A teenage werewolf Parallel bars A teenage girlfriend Got a lot of scars Somebody please make me stop Ohhh please…

“Would you have fancied me if I had braces on my fangs?” Remus mused jokingly.

Sirius answered with a gravity like his honour depended on it “What kind of- yes? I would’ve probably been gone even more. I like the nerd thing, if you haven’t noticed.”

You know, I have puberty rights And I have puberty wrongs No one understood me All my teeth were so long And no one made me stop!

“You can officially say you were a teenage werewolf, now”

“Yeah, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt”

Sirius slapped his arm.

“Oi!”

“What I mean is - we’re not teenagers anymore.”

“Haven’t you had a few months to adjust to the idea already?”

“Calling me old?”

“Never in a derogatory way, my love - I haven’t felt younger than sixty since I was thirteen.”

Sirius went quiet, clouding over. How much of their teenagehood had been lost to the war already? His brother would never live to see his twenties. Their futures, this new decade, were unfolding in front of them, ripe with potential and terrifying like the concrete mystery of a black hole. For now, though, Remus was content with lying on the carpet, his lover in his arms, listening to some weird Muggle band making light of his life’s curse.

36 notes · View notes

silhouetteonpaper · 5 months ago

Text

Point Shoes Make Great Weapons

Summary: When Y/N is tasked with dancing her way to an assigned target, will her ballet skills be enough to lead her to the enemy? WC: 3822 Warnings: Fighting, mentions of guns A/N: This is my first one shot, yay! I tried to keep the ballet terminology simple so anyone can read this, and there’s a few term descriptions below. Also, dance auditions are done in so many ways these days, so I wrote one in a way that would make sense to the story. Some things might not be 100% accurate. Terms: pointe shoe box - the part of the shoe that holds the front of the foot, usually made with dense paper, cardboard, or other stiff material so you can stand on it révérence - a bow/curtsy 1st, 2nd, & 3rd position - foundational ballet positions that are used often

“You’re kidding.” Y/N states, looking up at the presentation Tony is giving the entire team about a new mission. The screen shows their target, a professional ballet dancer named Ivan Volkov, who also happens to be a leading crime boss with ulterior motives. The plan described someone needing to get close enough to take him out so he could be captured, the only way to do so being an Avenger attending the same ballet auditions and getting him alone. All eyes fell on Y/N.

“You’re the youngest here, and the best at dancing. I’ve seen you practice.” Tony reasons, getting a look of disbelief in return from the girl. It would be less suspicious for a young adult to audition, sure, but Y/N wasn’t eager to dance in such a strict setting.

“I practice for fun, it’s different when you have to be perfect.” Y/N explains. “Besides, Natasha also knows ballet, why don’t you have her do it?” She tries to bargain. Natasha scoffs.

“My dancing days ended the second I left the Red Room. Sorry, but this ones all you.” Nat shrugged, leaning back in her chair. Y/N exhaled sharply, searching the room for anyone else who could possibly do this mission. Not any of the boys, for obvious reasons. Wanda was already shaking her head by the time Y/N looked at her, and then there was Yelena.

“How about you, Yelena? You learned ballet in the Red Room too, right?” Y/N pleaded, hoping the blonde could take the lead on this mission. Yelena only laughed, shaking her head as well.

“Try to put me in a tutu and I’ll break every bone in your body.” She remarked, leaving Y/N to groan as she slouched in her chair. Tony clapped, happy to see that Y/N was left with no option but to accept.

“Great! Y/N it is. I wouldn’t put you on this mission if I didn’t think you could handle it.” He consoled her. Soon, the meeting was adjourned and Y/N’s training for the mission would begin. She found herself alone in the compound’s dance studio Tony set up for her, wearing her usual dance attire: a black leotard over light pink tights with black shorts on top. She dropped her newly broken-in pointe shoes on a bench next to her water bottle, waiting for the person who was supposed to help train her.

To the girl’s surprise, the studio doors opened to reveal Natasha walking in with a cold look. Y/N smirked, quickly realizing the redhead would be the one to train her in all things ballet. “Don’t even start with me, I’m doing this for you, okay?” Nat snapped, Y/N nodding as she stifled her laugh.

The girl took a moment to put on her pointe shoes, eventually twisting the sewn on elastic bands disguised as ribbons to secure them. Natasha raised an eyebrow as Y/N stood, standing on her pointe shoes to test out the sound. “First thing we’ll cover is proper ballet attire. Starting with those pointe shoes.” She lectured.

Y/N looked down at them, unsure what she did wrong. “I just broke these in and sewed them myself. What’s wrong with them?” She tapped out on her box a few more times to double check that they were solid. Now reassured, Y/N gave Nat a puzzled expression.

“The ribbons, you need to use real ribbons at a professional ballet audition.” Natasha told her like it was common sense. Y/N sighed, walking to the barre up against the mirror. “And you know once you get to auditions, you can’t wear shorts, right?” The redhead asked, taking a few steps closer to the girl ignoring her.

“I’m well aware, thank you. I’m trying not to think about that right now. Let me warm up, and then we can start.” Y/N voiced, beginning to stretch using the bar. Natasha crossed her arms with a laugh, eyeing the girl’s movements.

“If I’m training you, then we’re starting from ground zero. Keep that posture at the bar, and you’ll be cut from auditions immediately.” Nat jabbed, watching Y/N’s judgmental look as she stood back up from a plié. “You can do better than that. Turn out more. Delicate, Y/N, c’mon.” She called out as the girl kept her barre routine going. She repeated each move until Natasha was satisfied with her perfection, Y/N sweating by the end of her warm up.

“Great, now onto the audition choreography. You watched the video Tony sent you, right?” Nat asked Y/N, who was gulping water before moving back out to the open floor. She nodded, having rewatched the same video over and over to get the ballet choreography down. Although the girl was comfortable with ballet in general, she’d never auditioned for a professional company before. Y/N knew they’d judge every move she made, and the smallest mistake could mean a failed mission. She’d have to blend in as a professional ballerina.

Y/N made her way to the corner of the floor, preparing her opening move by getting into 3rd position. “Alright, let’s see what you can do.” Nat spoke as she hit play on the music connected to the room’s speakers.

As the orchestral melody began to flow, Y/N started to glide across the floor. Her focused expression informed anyone nearby of her extreme care to each move, all of her dancing laced with precision and perfection.

Her pointe shoes struck the floor with each advance, the sound echoing around the tall-ceilinged room. But no sound could get in the way of the music that fled the girl’s mind. Each note was like permission, allowing her to move onto the next step and give her dancing life.

As Y/N made her way to the center of the space for the end of the sequence, she dropped into a révérence, bowing as the music ended. Silence filled the room as the girl stood still, waiting to see how Natasha would react to her performance.

Y/N felt like she did nearly perfect on the choreography, but sometimes near perfect isn’t enough when lives are at stake. The unimpressed look on the redheads face gave the girl more than enough information. She’d have to run this number again and again until it was flawless.

“You look like you don’t even enjoy what you’re doing when you dance.” Natasha tells Y/N, stepping closer. Y/N chuckles, putting her hands on her hips as she catches her breath.

“Yeah, cause I don’t.” The girl remarks. Natasha sighs, moving to the side as Y/N goes to grab her water.

“The auditioners are looking for people who are passionate about ballet. People who appreciate the perfection, as well as the beauty in every move. If you look like you’re caught up in one or the other, they’ll know.” Nat explains while Y/N chugs from her water bottle.

“Alright, so it’s about finding the perfect balance.” The girl concludes. Nat smiles for the first time in the past hour.

“Exactly. And the best way to find that is by practicing. Let’s do it again.” She directs, gesturing back over to the open floor. Y/N sighs, dragging her feet as she steps back onto her starting mark, the familiar melody playing as she attempts to find her own flow once more.

“I put a gun in your bag, just in case.” Tony says as he drives the three of them into the city. Nat and Y/N sit in the back, making sure everything is in order for the audition Y/N will attend momentarily. Tony received intel that Ivan would be at one in the center of New York, making it a perfect opportunity for the young Avenger.

“Honestly, these pointe shoes could make a great weapon.” Y/N jokes, considering how strong the hard box of the shoe could be, especially if used in combat. The young girl wears a black leotard, pink tights, a black ballet skirt, and fuzzy boots in the stead of pointe shoes currently sitting in her bag. Natasha carefully pinned up Y/N’s hair in an appropriate ballet bun earlier at the compound, making sure the girl had everything she’d need for a full day of dancing… and also possibly fighting.

“Alright, kid. Are you sure you’re ready?” Tony asked as he parked the car. Natasha smirks.

“Oh, she’s ready. I didn’t make her repeat the routine fifty times for no reason.” She responds. Y/N laughs, nodding her head in agreement. She felt ready, not only from the extensive training Natasha provided, but also from the solid plan Tony concocted.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N prepares to exit the car as the three say their ‘see you laters’. Natasha even patted Y/N on the shoulder, instilling just a little bit more confidence in the young girl. The cold air of the city brings a chill to Y/N’s bare arms as she steps outside of the car and into the tall doors of The New York Ballet building.

A classy interior greets the girl as she quickly follows the sign reading ‘auditions this way’. She soon approaches the crowd of dancers in a hallway, some looking worried, others looking confident, but all of them girls. There was no Ivan in sight. Worry crept up her throat, forcing Y/N to swallow as everyone began to stretch and put on their pointe shoes.

She placed her bag down, being discreet as she pulled out a small ear-bud like device from one of its pockets. She placed it in her ear, immediately connecting to the team through the communication device.

“I’ve got a problem. There’s only girls here. I don’t see Ivan.” Y/N spoke quietly to the comms device, scanning the hallway once more for any sign of her target.

“That’s a bummer. Let me look into it, hold tight.” Tony responded, leaving Y/N to awkwardly put on her pointe shoes as she waited. Nat had forced her to sew on real ribbons, taking Y/N an extra second to tie them perfectly as she’d been taught.

Luckily, she blended in well out here, everyone dressed similarly and shrouded with the same worry. Although, Y/N wished she could say she was worried about the same thing as the rest of the girls.

An auditioner stepped into the hallway, beginning to brief everyone on what’s to come. “Hello, everyone. Shortly, we’ll start calling in small groups, where you’ll perform the choreography we sent for you to learn prior. Afterwards, I will call out those we are interested in pursuing to stay, where you will learn a second combination with one of the male partners auditioning.” An exhale of relief washes over Y/N, now understanding her shot at finding Ivan wasn’t lost yet.

“I found where he is, I just have to make it through the first round of auditions. Wish me luck.” Y/N tells the team as the auditioner starts calling the first group of girls.

“Good luck, kid.” Tony responds as the girl takes out the device from her ear, safely storing it in her bag while she prepares to enter the audition studio. Although discreet for usual missions, the communication device would be obvious in a ballet studio, especially when a panel of people are judging every single thing about a dancer.

Eventually, Y/N’s name was called, or rather an alias used for the mission. “Phoebe Trent.” The auditioner lists, the girl making her way inside the studio as she hears the fake name Tony gave her. The handful of ballerinas stand beside each other, a smaller group of five girls now formed as the auditioners sit at a table to the front of the room.

“Welcome, dancers. Today’s audition is solely about finding those who strive to be the best version of themselves on and off stage. We want people who are eager to push themselves to become better dancers. People who are graceful on the outside, but show it from the inside as well.” One of the auditioners expresses.

Y/N holds back the urge to roll her eyes, this emotional monologue nearly causing her to fail her mission out of boredom. Although she was able to master the art of dancing with emotion, she couldn’t find a true passion for it like all the other professionals here did.

“And with that, let’s begin.” Y/N inhales deeply, lining up to the side as the first girl is called to dance. They move down the line, Y/N being second to last. She watches as each girl moves, the same music that replayed at the compound filling the room again and again. Every auditioning ballerina brings something unique to the table, making Y/N’s stomach flip with nerves as her confidence depletes. The girl knew she’d have to look the part, but she was unaware she’d actually have to dance the part. Having to get through one round of auditions without being cut made things a lot more difficult.

The other ballerinas all look like they truly enjoy their art form, flying across the floor as they become one with the music. Y/N can barely take her eyes off of them, similarly to the auditioners. The next person in line was Y/N, who was making an attempt at finding a way to be as passionate as these other girls were.

Scanning her mind for ideas, Y/N thought of the things she was passionate about. Combat, fighting, avenging. Violent, jeez, Y/N thought. At that moment, she realized combat was quite similar to choreography. Every step had to be well calculated, yet you were doing it for one reason: saving lives. There was a purpose behind each step, each movement, just like with dance.

Y/N concluded that she could apply this to her ballet routine, each move adjacent to that of a fight—just more graceful—her completing the routine saving lives. Which was true, if she executed this mission then many lives would be saved from the killing hands of Ivan.

“Ms. Trent, you may proceed.” The auditioner spoke, allowing the girl permission to walk to her mark. She set herself into her opening position, taking a deep breath. Straight away, the familiar symphony filled the studio, Y/N letting her pointe shoes take her swiftly across the floor. She wasn’t calculating each perfect step in her head anymore, Y/N was letting her body ebb and flow to the melody. The girl didn’t even glance at the auditioners, her loving expression speaking for itself as she turned and stepped across the floor.

Just like when she was triumphant in a battle, flipping across the city, she let the familiar feeling of turning across the floor fill her with that same confidence. Each pirouette like a flowing fight sequence, every arabesque like a high kick to an enemy, yet all done with grace instead of force.

It felt like only a moment had passed when the music ended, Y/N smiling center studio as she bowed. The auditioners matched her grin, soon moving onto the next person while the girl caught her breath and joined the line once more.

Although Y/N had no clue if she’d make it in or not, she was proud of the performance she gave. Regardless of today’s outcome, she at least had that. After everyone completed their routine, the girls were all left to wait in the hall until everyone in the crowd had an opportunity to dance. After another long bout of waiting, an auditioner entered the hallway with the clipboard.

“Alright girls, I have the names of everyone who will continue today. If you are not called, please escort yourself out. If your name is called, we would like you to stay for the next part of the audition.” Every girl in the hallway tensed, the pressure rising as a series of names was listed off. Y/N held her breath unknowingly, hoping that she made it through to continue her mission.

“Abigail Greg, Phoebe Trent, Olivia Knight…” The auditioner called out. Y/N exhaled, relief washing over her as she was now one step closer to completing the mission. For her, the hardest part was over. At least she hoped so. All she had to do was find a way to partner up with Ivan during the next section of auditions.

After a quick water break, the accepted girls joined a larger studio with the accepted boys. They stood in unorganized lines as a ballet instructor guided the crowd in learning a new ballet combination. It wasn’t long, but it definitely looked complicated, especially for Y/N who could only practice so much at the compound without knowing about this second round.

Luckily, she didn’t have to be amazing at it, the goal wasn’t to get through this next audition. She just had to seem confident enough to get Ivan to pair up with her. Now scanning the people around her, Y/N tried to locate the familiar face of her target. Finally, her eyes caught a glimpse of the man she was after in the very back, stepping along with the combination as the instructor taught it.

Y/N was in the middle of the room, trying to figure out a way to move farther back to him. It wasn’t easy, seeing as everyone tried to take up as little space as possible, careful to not hit other dancers. With each little stride, though, the girl progressed farther back, slowly ending up only a few people away from Ivan as they all ran through the choreography one last time.

“Alright, please partner up with one another and we’ll run it once more here. You’ll have a chance to practice it on your own in the other studios afterwards.” The instructor explained, everyone in the room awkwardly breaking their position to find a dance partner.

Perfect. Y/n thought, knowing she could get him alone in a studio if he accepted her as a partner. She didn’t hesitate, her eyes fixating on Ivan as he stood scanning the room. “Hello, I’m Phoebe. Want to partner up?” She asked him sweetly. He smiled warmly, nodding and prepping to run the combination together.

Soon, everyone in the group was all partnered and ready, following the instructors lead as they ran the dance together. Y/N began with the step forward, letting her arms fly upward as her leg lifted behind her. She feels Ivan beside her, soon placing his hands on her hips as she lowers her leg and prepares her turn sequence. Using her opposite foot to kick off, Y/N spins as Ivan uses his hands to keep her steady. 1, 2, 3, pirouettes later and he removes his hold as she lands, the two continuing on to the steady rhythm of the music.

“Great job everyone, while we set up here, go grab some water and practice on your own. We’ll grab the first group momentarily.” The instructor dismissed, everyone heading back out into the hall.

“I’m going to grab a drink of water, then we can run it again.” Y/N let Ivan know, getting another nod in response as she went to find her bag. The girl made sure Ivan was out of sight before opening it, taking a chug of water and slipping the small comms device into her ear.

“Welcome back, Y/N.” Tony’s voice sounds, the communication device in the girls ear connecting.

“I got through the first round, I’m about to have a chance with Ivan. Stay ready.” Y/N told him, zipping up her bag.

“We’re always ready,” Natasha remarked, joining over the comms. Y/N smiled and shook her head, soon putting her sickly sweet face back on as she approached Ivan. Y/N opted to keep the device in her ear as she was no longer in the presence of any auditioners. The two made their way into an empty studio, both standing in the center of the room and preparing to repeat the same dance, or at least Y/N was.

She waited until he was ready, soon going through the same motions. Step forward, arms delicately moving upwards. Leg rising, watch your posture, foot turned out. Ivan ready behind her, hands falling on her hips as her leg meets the floor. The girl begins her pirouettes, feeling Ivan’s hands help her complete each rotation. 1, 2, 3… 4, 5. He wasn’t stopping.

She attempted to place her foot back down, but the speed of his turning made it difficult. Y/N’s stomach twisted, he knew who she was. More than ten spins later, he pushed her to the floor, leaving the girl dizzy as she was unable to keep up. Y/N quickly realized she didn’t grab the gun, and she couldn’t conceal any weapon under her ballet attire, so she had to rely on combat now.

“You made a mistake coming here,” Ivan finally spoke, his Russian accent now revealing itself. Y/N stood, steading her body as the lasting dizziness finally wore off. “And what, the Avengers sent a kid after me? What’s a dainty little ballerina going to do?”

“You made a mistake underestimating me.” Y/N asserted. Without hesitation, she threw the first punch. Ivan immediately reacted, the two of them moving back and forth trying to overpower each other.

She caught him by surprise, hooking her leg around his to bring him to the floor. But he quickly recovered, rolling to his feet and attempting to lock his arm around Y/N’s neck. She twisted his arm the other way just in time, avoiding the move.

They took turns gaining control of the fight, no clear winner could be predicted. And to the girl’s disadvantage, she kept sliding around in her pointe shoes, the awkward shape difficult to walk in. That’s when the idea came to her: I can use my pointe shoes, Y/N realized.

She ripped herself from Ivan’s hold, the two of them out of breath as they stood mere feet away. Ivan gave her a menacing look, almost giving away his idea at an advance. Before he could throw another punch, Y/N kicked him right in the head, her pointe shoe creating a loud crack as it made contact with his skull.

Ivan’s body hit the ground with a thud, finally unconscious. Y/N started to catch her breath, resting her hands on her hips as she talked to the team over comms. “Ivan’s down. Studio 3, he’s all yours.” Y/N spoke, glancing at the limp body of her target. She stepped over him to head towards the exit, noticing the annoying feeling of her pointe shoes now that she was walking instead of dancing.

Pulling them off, she laughed to herself. “It turns out pointe shoes do make great weapons.”

#marvel #marvel one shot #marvel fanfic #mcu #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #tony stark #the avengers

51 notes · View notes

doomandgloomfromthetomb · 10 months ago

Text

Robyn Hitchcock Sings Syd Barrett - The Chapel, San Francisco, January 6, 2024

As the outrageously grim month of January crawls by, I've kept my eye fixed on one shining night to get me through — the night when Robyn Hitchcock returns to Colorado. I've mentioned it previously, but back in March 2020, right when the whole Covid thing kicked off, I had tix to see Robyn ... and I did not go ... and the lockdown began. That was Hitchcock's last show until the pandemic cooled down. And his run out here this weekend will be his first shows in the Centennial State since that fateful time.

A lotta context to just say: I am really looking forward to seeing Robyn Hitchcock! If all my facts are right, 2024 marks 30 years of seeing him play live for me — and I love the experience as much as a grizzled, gray-haired 40-something as I did as a fresh-faced teenager. To prep, I'm checking out this very good tape of Robyn and friends in San Francisco a few weeks back, celebrating Syd Barrett's birthday with a psych-tastic Syd set. These songs are second nature to Hitchcock; he's been covering Barrett for a half-century now (or longer now). But he still manages to locate the wild, inventive spirit of this music – and seems to relish doing so. The tape is killer, but you might want to check out the various videos of the show, too, which might take you back to the UFO Club circa 1966.

Robyn Says: Syd Barrett was an English art student who named and launched Pink Floyd. He wrote, sang and played guitar on their first hit records, released in 1967, but soon suffered an irreversible breakdown from taking LSD. Within a year he was out of the band, and by 1970 his career was over. He made two solo records of outstanding beauty and then gave up music. To some ears they’re sketchy and chaotic, but once you become attuned to Barrett these two albums are a seam of dark yet vivid intensity unmatched in modern rock. It’s like looking through a window in somebody’s head directly into all their wayward feelings. It’s unfiltered thought, set to meandering tunes and guitar-playing so edible you can taste it; it’s pure, undiluted — it’s real. And to those of us who speak Syd, exquisite.

Further reading — my 2022 interview with Robyn is still hot off the presses ...

#robyn hitchcock #syd barrett #pink floyd

14 notes · View notes

cuprohastes · 2 years ago

Text

What is this Hu-man thing you call Gen-Dar?

The Station administrators pulled Dave the Human in for a little meeting.

"On a scale of one to immediately calling my Union Rep, how much have you found out about?" Asked Dave, a man who who could be described as exceedingly unproblematic.

The human admin, Eoin O'Patel perked up. "We have a Union?" He asked with interest. "Who's the rep?"

"It's Un-Named Male. I didn't tell him yet."

"Oh..." said O'Patel, disappointed. "No, no. Well I mean, you're not in trouble, we just want you to cause some."

Dave shot a look at the Atrix Administrator, Don't Make Me Come Down There. Ma for short.

Ma gave Dave a thumbs up. Well OK.

"Sooo...?" Said Dave sitting up, because things were about to be Interesting.

Dave The Human, Garf and Un-Named Male were in the Caf, examining the stack of "Unions and how to Start One" leaflets that had been delivered to Un-Named Male when Dave sauntered in, in brand new overalls: Specifically Atrix overalls, tailored to size, including one of the armbands that are usually covered in badges.

Garf looked bemused and flickered several colours and patterns.

Un-named male said "Graaaaak..."

Dave The Human didn't say anything because she was stuffing her face.

"No it's not cultural appropriation actually. As of today, by special permission of O'Patel and Ma, I am officially an Atrix." Dave said and posed. "Just for a week. I'm moving into that spare room on the Atrix deck. Ma reckons it'll make keeping the moss alive easier."

"Seems a bit extra for some moss gardening." Dave The Human said, licking her claws.

"Oh no. It just turned out to be handy. See, the Station is getting a visit from a certain bunch of pointy heads from a nation that dare not breathe it's name in polite society and we merry three... four, sorry Un-Named, are getting to play with them."

"Oooh!" Said Dave The Human. "This gon' be good."

Interview 1

The first interview performed by Pinkerton Finke put him in a sour mood. He was a congressionally appointed official, on an important fact finding tour - Facts that supported the narrow world view of his employers, naturally - And he felt he was due some respect.

He said as much to his assistant, Loris. Good girl, very competent, possibly worth keeping on when her looks started to go, he thought.

Loris looked over that the other seat across the desk, upon which was sitting a large scaled individual. They had two long arms with three claws, and two smaller arms tucked up into a front pocket, a ludicrously long neck and shiny black button eyes just in front of a pair of soft ears - Possibly the only thing soft bout them. They appeared to have a set of scales that moved in unsettling ways and were painted in tacky colours.

"Is that... Nail polish?"

The creature noddes. "Pinking of you." It said. Loris wrote that down and Finke seethed at the irrelevance.

"You are... a... a Tuh-sin?" He said clearly and slowly.

The creature stared back dumbly then said "No? I'm human."

Finke looked down at his notes. The first interviewee was listed as Dave. Obviously Loris had added 'The human' for him. Idiot girl. Of course someone called Dave was human.

"I think you're in the wrong room. I'm waiting for someone called David."

"Nah mate. It's Dave, innit? Dave The Human. 'S me."

Finke felt his blood pressure going up. "No I'm supposed to interview one of the technical staff, from the human contingent posted here on matters of..."

The creature held up a hand. "Yer. 'S me. Dave The Human. 'Cos I'm officially human like, and I'm class three for some of the really twiddly bits of the life support. Real twiddly. So what's the craic?"

Loris slid her tablet over showing that for some deranged reason, the creature was indeed listed as Dave The Human and on the payroll as officially human.

"Jesus ffff... OK. I'm inquiring as to the attitudes to gender conformity on this place. It has come to the attention of some very highly placed people that attitudes are somewhat lacking in moral fibre. So tell me... David, if you understand the proper, moral stance on gender."

"Oh wot? Pff. Easy mate. Marriage is one Big Guy, Two small guys, two small women and a Big Lass to yell at them all to wash their claws. Don't worry, if you ain't got enough small women, just get extra small guys, they'll switch over after a few months."

Finke slowly went red in the face, and for some reason this prompted the Dave creature to pull out a small fruit and put it carefully on the desk. "Here y'go. OK, got stuff to do. Nice meetin' ya." He said and ambled out.

Interview 2

"Ok next up is an Atrix. Phalanges Mitten." Said Loris.

A human walked in, dressed as an Atrix and sat down.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Is this a joke?" Finke said.

"Nope, said Phalanges Mitten, definitely an Atrix who looked a lot like Dave the Human. "Tell you what, want to speak to the community leader for the Atrix population?"

Finke thought about it. "Very well." He said and Phalanges yelled, "GARF YOU'RE UP!" Without getting up.

A two meter tall purple dinosaur shouldered her way in and leaned back on her short tail. "Hey Phalanges. Having... an issue?"

Finke stared up. Christ they're a lot bigger than he'd assumed.

"Yeah, Fink here says i'm not Atrix enough." He said and Garf tutted. "Well Station Admin checked with the homeworld and I'm empowered to act as ambassador pro-tem, and I can tell you Phalanges has the support of the Atrix." She said smoothly.

Finke could feel a headache coming on. "Very well... I'm inquiring as to the attitudes to gender conformity on this place. It has come to the attention of some very highly placed people that attitudes are somewhat lacking in moral fibre. So tell me... Phalanges, if you understand the proper, moral stance on gender."

Phalanges sniffed. "Oh sure. There's only the one. Size."

Finke stared. Phalanges stared back. Garf ate a sandwich. Loris made a strangled sound that Finke couldn't hear over the sound of his blood pressure rising.

"Are you..." he started and Phalanges talked over him.

"Simple. You start out small and you do the best you can and then you get bigger and you do the best for others, and in between if you feel like fertilising an egg when you're small or producing one when you're bigger, well that's nobody's business, but there's somethings that are easier when you have more body mass."

Finke went with his first reaction. "Bullshit."

And so Garf flipped up the flap on her coveralls stuffed both hands in and hauled a purple iguana in a hawaiian shirt out and dumped him on the desk.

Finke shrieked and the lizard said "Grak!"

"What the hell?" He asked. "If this is your pet..."

Phalanges inhaled sharply. "Ooh. I wouldn't..."

"...Kid?"

"That's my husband." Said Garf in tones that made the room's heating elements click in.

"He's an adult." Said Phalanges.

The iguana, made a modulated grackling noise, and Phalanges said "He said, 'That makes four of us'. Ooh, burn."

Finke glared at the lizard who stared back and changed colour. He wondered how much trouble there would be if he swatted it.

"The thing is, Fink, we know who you are, what you represent, and you've showed up on a station where most of the humans aren't from your nation, and over half of everyone isn't even from Earth. None of us are planning on subscribing to your views, or supporting them. And if you had the wit of it, you'd never have come. But here you are, on the station, with little to no actual authority, nosing around and trying to recruit..."

Finke felt a cold flush.

"... And so you get to go back and climb under your rock. Loris? Your contract came through. "

"What?" Gasped Finke. "Contract? See here, she's my..."

Loris slapped him on the back of the head with a tablet, saying "That was always your problem. You thought I was yours." Then she dropped the tablet on the desk and walked out.

Finke looked down at it in shock where the words "I Quit" were scrawled across it, already planning what he was going to do to tht snip of a... and... Oh crap. He slapped a hand over the table and flipped it over before anyone saw what else was on it, just in time for the iguana to hand him a subpoena with a smug "Grak".

"You've been served mate." Said Phalanges. "Your ass backward views are the least of your worries. You really should have been nicer to the woman who handles your dirty secrets."

"Why Dave?" Asked Ma.

O'Patel looked at the service record for Dave, which showed the name Dave being added to the record about three months after Dave's arrival. He didn't look further. No need to look at deadnames.

"Oh you know. No ties to that country. No blowback if things get nasty." He said. "I hope there was no trouble form Homeworld?"

"Mm. No. Central rather enjoyed the idea I think. As for Phalanges, he... officially She I suppose... has been fine, though we'd like him out of the Atrix section before the lighting cooks his eyes. It's a lot higher UV and I know that's harder for Human eyes to deal with. But between you and I and Garf's recomendation, if Dave ever defects, we might go as far as finding him a little guy."

O'Patel chuckled indulgently. "If he ever feels like he needs to defect, I'll help him pack." He said. "Talking of which I hear the new PA is doing quite well." He added shooting a look toward where Loris was flirting with the big female everyone called Dave.

----

Ok that's it. I actually have three drafts of this that didn't pan out.

If you liked it, comment, because I love getting comments!

#Dave the human #Station Stories #tsin #atrix #trans #humans are space orcs #Humans being weird little guys

111 notes · View notes

moons-cozy-corner · 11 months ago

Text

Hello Humanity

Trigger Warnings: Child death. Death. Blood. Mourning. Gore.

This is real life.

Hello humanity. My name is Moon. I am 18 years old. I am a gender-nonconforming individual. I am mentally ill. I am disabled. I am a sister. A friend. A savior. A failure. I suppose I am a lot of things.

I am also a writer. And as such it is my job to use symbols on a page to make you feel something. An emotion.

Emotion. A natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others. Instinctive or intuitive feeling as distinguished from reasoning or knowledge.

That is what emotion is. The literal dictionary definition, at least. But as a writer, I see emotion as this. Imagine laying on a field of grass. There is an endless sky above you. With so little description, your brain fills in the rest. Those extra details--those are derived from your emotions.

Whether you saw a purple-pink sky with cotton clouds, on tall, soft grass filled with fireflies. Or perhaps sharp blades sticking into your stiff back as you grimace up at smokey skies, tinged red? Or perhaps you saw exactly as I described, a canvas unpainted by the words of an artist, a numb emptiness. All of which are valid. All of which are emotional.

Now I will paint you a picture. Follow along if you can.

A child opens their eyes, grubby hand grasping their chest as they breathe heavily, tears pricking their eyes. They are met by silence, only accompanied by their own heavy breathing. The world around them is soft. Soft in all the ways the world can be. Dirt white and smooth as clouds, sprouting flowers of soft pastels, the sky a kind blue. Their jaw unclenches, their eyes rush around not in fear, but in curiosity. How did they get here? Where were they? Where was everyone else?

And they turned around, and children are laughing. Running in all directions chasing after butterflies, pointing at birds, smiling. Happy in the simplest of ways. When the group of children spots the child, they stop, all staring. But they realize-its another friend! They greet them with open arms, an older child picking them up and holding them close, carrying them over to the rest of the group.

The child goes with giddiness and a newfound peace in their heart, something they know they have missed, but they cannot seem to remember why.

Little does the child know that the warmth they feel is not of an older child carrying them over to play, but their mothers arms surrounding them, or what is left of them, in the white sheet they are covered in. A mother kissing blossoms of warmth into an ever-cold body. A child that used to smile and laugh and play while their home lie miles away in rubble.

A woman places shaking crimson fingertips onto crumbled stone. Stone under which she knows some of her child's organs are buried. Rubble that crushed her baby into piece's that can never be reassembled again.

A father stares into the once kind blue sky, now gray, holding plastic shopping bags in each hand by his side. He imagines his child playing in the sky with all the others, their organs in their bodies as they reside with Allah, not in plastic baggies covered in dirt.

Do you like the picture? Do you like the progression of words that I drew out for you to see? The content I placed in front of you?

Oh. You don't? I see.

You see, I don't much like it either. Because I didn't make this story. I wrote it out for you, yes. But this story is far from fictional.

We sit on the other side of the screen, holding the proof of genocide in our hands. We sit and cry in our warm beds, warm showers, warm food and clothes, and hope that these people are saved.

Some of us don't.

So I am calling Humanity. Can she hear me?

I am a writer. I am really still only a child I can only do so much but I sit here, doing more than people twice my age.

Can you fucking hear me?

I am a writer. I cry over the words I write because they convey the truth of the world. My fingertips see my emotion into each little symbol I type. If this screen were paper you would see my tears.

You will hear me.

No. You will hear THEM.

The people of Gaza. The Palestinians who have died, the ones screaming for your help. The ones missing limbs, losing their eyesight, becoming orphaned, widowed, childless, homeless, lifeless.

The people of Congo. Those who are being enslaved so you can have the device you are using to read this right now, including children.

The people of the world who are dying at the brutal, unrelenting hands of those in charge of us.

2023 was not the start of any of this. And it will not be the end.

Hello Humanity. Their names are multiplying. Their ages are too young to justify. They are queer, religious, disabled, mentally ill, kind, creative, just. They are scared. I suppose they are a lot of things.

But are you Humane enough to speak up?

I will be using the tags I would use on a normal whump story to reach my writing community and those who would normally find my blog. My target audience is not those who would be looking under the Palestine tags. That is the reason for the unrelated tags. Thank you for reading. Free Palestine. Free Congo. Free Sudan. Free humanity.

17 notes · View notes

lixiebokie · 1 year ago

Text

the serpent and the tulip

non-idol! hyunjin x tattoo artist! reader (featuring felix)

genre: angst

author note: this is an old one shot i wrote around a year ago but i haven’t posted a chapter of through his lens in like 2 months?? so i wanted to post something, i have edited it to make it better so yeah hopefully it is.

i will be posting through the lens update soon i just have been so busy and i have been stumped with what to write for the next chapter but future chapters have been write so hopefully after i’ve gotten the next chapter finished i will be flying in posts! anyways enjoy.

—————————————————

monday

hyunjin sat at the till knees up to his chest scribbling down sketches of the small flowers surrounding him. white cardigan draped over his body dropping to just above the floor. resting his sketch pad on knees trying to get the angel of the glass he was drawing just right.

the bell jingled indicating to him someone had entered.

he lowered his knees and pulled himself closer.

he took a look at the girl. someone he didn’t recognise, which was odd because the shop only really had regulars who consisted of older woman looking for seeds for their gardens.

he stared at her beauty.

her black aesthetic contrasted the shop and hyunjin himself who was wrapped up in his fluffy white cardigan. he took notice of the small tattoos that covered her arms and hands. he wondered what brought her to a flower shop at 10 o’clock at night on a monday. she reached up to grab a small plant pot before walking to the till.

“just this?” he asked scanning the small item. glancing at her on the sly as she was staring at her phone for a moment.

“yes thank you.” she smiled before handing him the money and taking the pot.

“have a good night.” hyunjin spoke as she walked away.

“you too.” she turned back. all hyunjin could think was, ‘what a funny thing to buy on it’s own’. no one comes into a flier shops just to buy a plant pot! not even with the seeds or a shovel just the pot. that’s really threw him off, but who was he to judge?

tuesday

hyunjins day repeated again.

after he locked up the night before he went home and went to sleep thinking about her and who in there right minds buys a plant pot on its own? he tapped the till huffing as he watched an old lady pick up the same seeds over and over. his days always dragged on like this, the same boring hours consuming him until he was finally free at 9 to go home and do absolutely nothing. he didn’t have a girlfriend to go home to, and like hyunjin his friends also worked throughout the day. he’d just go home and watch some food channel hoping to channel his inner gorden ramsey, gosh he really needed to get out.

the bell ringing caused hyunjin to look at the door pulling him from his strange train of thought.

her again?

hyunjin subtly watched as she looked around the shop then walked to the till empty handed.

“do you have any roses?” she asked placing her hands on the surface. long nails coated in glitter grazed the wood of the counter. it was a silly question, ofc they had the most basic flower. hyunjin almost wanted to laugh, she definitely wasn’t a regular customer.

“yes ofcourse, what type?”

“i.. im not sure.”

hyunjin instructioned for her to follow him walking to the garden section.

“sorry let me simple it,” hyunjin explained trying not to make it sound like he was belittling her. “there’s pink roses, white roses, red roses-“

“which is most romantic?” she interrupted and took closer look at them.

“definitely red.” hyunjin answered taking one in his hand handing it to the girl.

making her smile.

“i’ll take red.” she bite her lip.

“great..”

dear diary,

have you ever fell inlove? or is that something from one of my stupid novels?

but we’re so different! opposites attract so could this be real?

wednesday

hyunjin spent the rest of his shift the day before thinking of how he flirted with her without even knowing her name.

it had been a while since he’d had a conversation with a girl around his age let alone flirt with one. it felt.. good? hyunjin couldn’t explain it, he cringed at the thought yet didn’t regret doing it.

he really needed to get out this weekend.

ding.

it was the girl.

she took a look around once again before picking out some lavenders.

“just these?” hyunjin asked for the third time. it felt like deja vu and from the smile after he repeated it seemed to be the same for her.

she nodded.

“i like your tattoo.” he pointed out the tiny heart on the back of her wrist.

“where do you get them done?” he asked out of curiosity hoping he wasn’t pushing a boundary.

“oh! thank you i do them myself.” she smiled pulling up her sleeves. it was covered which also shocked hyunjin. she didn’t seem like the type to have tattoos let alone do them herself.

“wow youre amazing! i’ve been needing to get mine filled in.” he copied he action showing the inked snake wrapped around a tulip.

“thanks, i own the shop across the street if you ever get around to it.” she offered.

“i’ll pop in.” she smiled before grabbing her flowers and walking out.

hyunjin saw the dark shop across the road.

inky

he knew the shop. it was known for being a tattoo shop with a cafe inside.

well fuck the club, hyunjin knew what he was doing this weekend.

thursday

hyunjin felt some sort of excitement waiting for the girl to show up.

he waited and waited his whloe shift but she never came. he didn’t really understand why he was disappointed, he just was. he was outside locking up when he heard tapping off feet.

“youre closed?” hyunjin heard the innocent voice behind him.

“yeah sorry we close early on thursday since i go to see my family.”

she sighed about to walk away when he let out a cough trying to get her attention.

“but i could let you be my last customer?”

she walked around before getting some daisies.

“how long have you worked here?” she asked as hyunjin followed her around the shop.

“hm? idk 6 years?” he thought trying to remember anything from past a month ago. his days were so repetitive he had learnt to forgot nothing important about them.

“6? how old are you?” she asked quite shocked as hyunjin didn’t look older than 20.

“i’m 22 it was my eommas shop i started working here when i was 16.”

the girl nodded.

“how long have you had your tattoos?”

“did my first at 17?” she thought for a moment.

“what was your first?” she placed down her flowers pulling her sleeve slightly to reveal a small F. it was very faded showing how old it must have been.

“i need to redo it.” she rubbed over it in a comforting manner looking at hyunjin.

“hyunjin.” he stuck out his hand. the girl hesitatingly took it. “y/n. well hyunjin i should be going im on my break” she laughed. “hopefully you come round to the shop, have a nice time with your family.” and just like that she was gone.

hyunjin leaned against the wall and sighed.

god what has this girl done to him?

friday

hyunjin sat looking out for y/n. after learning her name last night he couldn’t think of it without smiling slightly. having the put his head down every once in a while to stop the side eyes of old woman trying to buy their plants.

he had dressed up abit today wearing a dress top and some jeans, from the years he’d been working her he couldn’t think of any day he’d dressed in more than what he pulled himself out of bed in. she had entered fairly early around midday but stayed a while to talk to hyunjin.

“do you have anymore more tattoos?” she asked him leaning on the counter sipping some of the slush she’d brought before heading to the flower shop.

“yeah it’s a rose on my back.”

“can i see?” she asked innocently. “ i mean if you want-“

hyunjin thought for a second and instead of answering he turned pulling off his top off his back.

“wow this is so detailed.” she traced her fingers over it making hyunjin shiver and feel like he was burning.

it was an innocent gesture yet hyunjin felt anything but innocent as she dragged her cold delicate finger over his tattooed skin.

she had took small glance spotting his toned abs making her blush but not bringing it up.

he placed his top back on looking at her.

both stunned, neither knowing what to say.

dear diary,

ever had that feeling in your stomach that something is meant to be?

maybe this the universe telling me or maybe i’m overthinking.

what ever it is i am all up for it.

saturday

hyunjin decided today he was going to y/n’s shop after his shift.

and he was planning on asking her on a date.

there wasn’t many customers so he locked up at 9 which was abit earlier than usual. usually hyunjin would go home and watch baking shows until 2 am but today he went the other way and arrived at the black store.

he stepped inside going to the front desk.

“do you have an appointment?” the man sitting in the chair asked. his puppy face looked at hyunjin.

“oh! hyunjin.” y/n walked over in her apron pulling her gloves more on.

“are you here for your fill?” he nodded suddenly feeling a shock of shyness wash over him.

“great! i’ll get to you after i’ve finished with chan.” she gestured to the seats in the cafe area.

“what would you like?” a young boy walked up to him.

“just an iced americano please.”

“jeongin don’t charge him for that.” y/n had shouted from across the room still working on ‘chan’. hyunjin couldn’t help but blush at her giving him a free drink. maybe she felt as he felt for her?

soon enough he was sat in the chair with y/n steadily holding the tattoo needle to his arm. green ink staining his skin. he bite his lip at the sharp pain not wanting to scream infront of the girl he was planning to ask out. it felt like hours hyunjin was staring between his arm and her concentrated face.

one last wipe and she stood up.

“all done! do you like it?”

“it looks great, thanks.” he smiled standing to go pay as he looked over at his tattoo, looking as it did a few years ago.

now was hyunjins time, to ask her.

go on. it’s now or never. he hesitated smiling up at her words drying in his mouth.

but before he could, another tattoo artist walked over.

this one a small blonde man in all black. big brown eyes and heart shaped lips that put hyunjin in awe at his doll like features.

“looks amazing.” he back hugged her giving her a tiny peck on her lips.

“thanks baby.”

baby?

hyunjin felt his heart shatter. dropping from his chest all the way to his stomach but still somehow he pulled himself up trailing his way to the desk to pay.

“felix are you ready to go home?” he heard y/n say across the shop as he was paying. it made his heart hurt more. she didn’t like him, ofc she didnt. who’d ever like a loser who works at his mothers flower shop?

“yeah babe let me just clean my area.” felix, the other tattoo artist walked behind hyunjin taking glance of his arm.

“looks sick mate.” he patted his back, though being much small than him, hyunjin couldn’t help but feel intimidated at him. he must have known his crush on y/n and he was trying to show how she was his not hyunjins.

“thanks.” hyunjin croaked out.

dear diary,

love is a FUCKING lie.

sunday

i would be lying if i said hyunjin didn’t go home and cry last night.

a batch of cookies ate, which he’d made nights prior watching gorden ramsey shout at some lousy business owner. but hyunjin didn’t pay attention to the TV too busy drowning in his tears and tissues.

gosh, he felt like a teenager girl breaking up with her first boyfriend.

he sat tired eyes at the till on his first hour of his shift. even though she’d not left his mind the thought that she’d been in shop every day this past possibly meant she would show up today didn’t cross his mind until the bell rang midday.

y/n.

but she wasnt alone for the first time stepping in the shop. no, she was linking arms with felix.

“look love!” she called out. “this is we’re i got the flowers for your garden.” he heard her say. hyunjin thought his heart died more in that moment.

the flowers were for felix, that red rose he’d given her was probably in the possession of felix now. did she use the same motion giving it to him as he had gave it to her? or that stupid plant pot, that lone plant pot she’d brought the first day coming to the shop. that pot that had sparked hyunjins curiosity seeing a dark attire girl walk into a shop for elderly ladies or pinterest girls, which she’d taken the category of neither.

all for him.

“hyunjin how’s your arm?” she asked going to the till. hyunjin felt pain hearing her voice.

“better it’s not hurting.” he smiled weakly.

he took close look at felix.

he was wearing a baggy white tweety t-shirt showing the small decrotive tattoos scattered on his arm. but caught one in perticulur his attention. a faded y/

he thought back to y/n’s tattoo.

the F must have stood for felix.

meaning they must have been together for a long time.

that hurt hyunjins heart even more. at that point he felt there was only a slight crack left of it, holding on for dear life and false hope that it was all just a sick joke.

“just these please.” she laughed giving him the tulips.

she payed and walked out arm in arm with felix. not bothering to have her usually daily life update instead throwing her hand up waving to him before curling into felix.

dear diary,

maybe i have high standards but why are the best ones always taken?

it’s just me, myself and i.

��————————————————

27 notes · View notes

supersuperdupersecretnerd · 6 months ago

Text

Hell to Pay & Latin Analysis (From a user who doesn't study other languages or Latin, so apologies for any inaccuracies) (Brainrot is oh so real)

If you haven't watched the pilot or checked out the website for this page, this entire post won't make much sense; so here's a link to both!

The Pilot:

youtube

The Website: https://helltopaywebcomic.squarespace.com

Ok now the actual analysis is beneath the readmore since it's a bit long.

Beginning with Profundus' summoning papers!

[IMAGE ID START A screenshot from the Hell to Pay Pilot Episode. Two uncolored hands with black claws hold onto a yellow piece of paper with red borders. The paper has a colored image of the bee demon Profundus on it surrounded by bees. In the top right corner is a small bee symbol and in the top left corner is the name Profundus written in red and black. Some text is written beneath the name, with some letters covered by a claw. IMAGE ID END]

So I had a hard time reading the handwriting, so I zoomed into the screenshot and wrote over the letters to try and see what matched. The words in dark brown are repeat words and the last section is in orange as the claw covers up most of the letters needed.

[IMAGE ID START A zoomed in image of the text from the previous screenshot, with letters written over the original text for easier understanding. There are translation notes as well. IMAGE ID END]

The legible text is as follows 'Vita avaritiae et vita gloriae providebit soporem mellis et ornatum et omnia desiderabillia'

From my research (aka googling various Latin dictionaries and using Wikipedia for 31 minutes) the words mean the following:

Vita = Life

Et = And

Avaritiae = Greed

Gloriae = Fame or Glory

Providebit = Provide or Foresee

Soporem = Deep Sleep or to Figuratively mean Death

Mellis = Honey

Ornatum = To Decorate or to mean Jewelry

Omnia = In all respects or to mean all things

Desiderabilia [I only found Desiderabilis] = Desirable

So, if we wanted to translate this to English, you could say 'Life of greed and life of fame will provide sleep of honey and jewelry and everything desirable'

There is also more text beneath, but most of the letters are covered up by Profundus' claw. The only Latin word I can make out is rex, which means king.

I'm curious to see how his powers as a tormentor demon of bees will relate to this passage! We already know he can create (or sneeze) honey, but I'm curious if he can do anything else in regards to material goods-

[IMAGE ID START A black image divider. IMAGE ID END]

Now let's go over the demon's names and see what they mean! (I separated the images by four as I'm running tight on Tumblr's image limit :( ). Photos are taken from the official character pages on the website linked before (seriously please check it out, the pages have additional details that are super interesting; such as the fact that Infortunii is the only demon born that has a list of sins committed)

[IMAGE ID START An image of four characters lined up. The first character is a yellow humanoid bee with a crown and four arms. The second character is blue skinned and blue haired humanoid; she has a grey animal wrapped around her neck and a black body. The third character is a typical red demon, who is completely nude and is only covered by his long ponytail. The fourth character is a short, pink and blue goat plushie with pins and cotton coming out of her. IMAGE ID STOP]

From left to right are the characters Profundus, Infortunii, Cupido, and Mollis.

Profundus in Latin can mean deep, dense, or mysterious. Could be intentional but I would also like to add how the name makes me first think of 'profit' or 'fund'. (Or maybe it's cause he had to get his name randomly generated that it doesn't fully match) (Or maybe his levels of greed is deep I don't know-)

Infortunii is Latin for misfortune and punishment. She is a tormentor demon of misfortune and has to be a guide demon as punishment for something she did.

Cupido is Latin for desire, longing or for lust, passion, and greed. He is a sin demon of lust who longs for a genuine romantic relationship with another.

(Also can I just say how fucking funny it is Cupido fell for Profundus, the literal only straight man in the entire cast who is still VERY MUCH in love with his wife. True disaster bisexual rep.)

Mollis is Latin for soft, calm, or mild. Mollis is an old plushie-like demon that is a tormentor of plush. I don't know how mild or calm in personality she is, as on the website she's described as having a god complex and impulsivity, but she seems to be able to give some good advice still with the pilot's events in mind.

[IMAGE ID START An image of five characters lined up. The first two characters are fused together, with one side being a smiling sun and the other side being a frowning moon. The third character is a smiling jester with red locs coming out of his big hat and a ruff around his neck. The fourth character is a purple skin humanoid in a green outfit shaped like an umbrella and a green hat with floating horns. The fifth character is a thin plague doctor holding a stick with a lamp attached; the character is emerging from a pool of black with some small ghost-shaped creatures popping out of it. IMAGE ID END]

From left to right are the characters Serenum & Lunares, Fastus, Nolite Flere, and Aegritudo.

Serenum is Latin for bright, cheerful, or fair weather. Serenum is described to be a very joyful and optimistic character, and is also a sun (the sun is very bright, very painful to look at)

Lunares in Latin means to make a crescent shape or relating to the moon. Lunares is shaped like the moon (she is also the tormentor demon of moons).

Fastus is Latin for pride, arrogance, and destain. Fastus is the sin demon of pride.

Nolite is Latin for 'Do Not' and Flere is Latin for cry or weep. So their name means 'Don't cry' and they seem to have crying makeup stains under their eyes. (I don't associate crying with envy, but their page also mentions feeling negatively nihilistic and poor at being a symbol of envy in death so perhaps the crying is related to that?)

Aegritudo is Latin for sickness and disease. Aegritudo is a tormentor demon of illness and works as a surgeon, doctor, and pharmacist (and botanist). (Also conducted experiments on ill patients during the bubonic plague)

[IMAGE ID START An image of five characters lined up. The first two characters are together, with the smaller red one standing on the shoulder of the taller blue one; the blue one has an eye covered by an accessory with a cookie and whipped cream like hair with a straw poking out. The red one looks like a small doll holding a phone and has very long red pony tails. The third character is a green humanoid gumball machine. The fourth character is a pink humanoid with visible lungs, heart, and guts in her torso; only has a visible mouth on her face. The fifth character is drawn like a child's messy crayon drawing; she is an orange demon with red horns and a red dress with black hair. IMAGE ID END]

From left to right are the characters Lac & Pupa, Bullatio, Mendacina, and Furor.

Lac is Latin for milk. Considering her blue and white color scheme, cookie jewelry, and her straw hair-accessory this makes sense (as milk does go with cookies).

Pupa is Latin for both doll and for little girl. Pupa is a character that looks like a puppet (and is very small in size).

Bullatio is Latin for either bubbling or for a blub-like formation. This name is a bit harder to relate to the character, but perhaps bubbling could relate to bubbling gum? Or maybe certain bubbling sounds involved with cooking candy? It could be a reference to his face shape (glass circle or blub shape).

Mendacina is a bit mixed in the meaning? Google Translate claims it means lies in Latin, but I can't find any other source confirming this. Google thinks I'm trying to find Mendocino, which is a county in California, US. Supposedly in Spanish 'Mendocino' means 'a man from Mendoza', a city from Argentina. I cannot relate any of these definitions to the character.

Huzzah an easy name to translate! Furor in English means 'an angry or maniacal fit; or to rage' or 'an outburst of public excitement or indignation' (in context of rage). In Latin Furor means madness or rage. Furor is a little demon of wrath, of these definitions makes sense!

[IMAGE ID START A black image divider. IMAGE ID END]

So yep, that's all I had to ramble about! If you actually read this far, thank you and I hope you enjoyed it! All character art is found on the linked website and is by @ misseligon (not @ing to be polite!), I just used it here so y'all could have a face to associate with the names being defined!

Also feel free to correct me if I got anything wrong!

Uh bye now!

[IMAGE ID START A screenshot of a black and white drawing of Infortunii giving the thumbs up. The background is orange. IMAGE ID END]

#hell to pay #hell to pay pilot #hell to pay webcomic #latin #<- tagging so anyone who's into latin and wants to correct me can! 👍#Youtube #....i may be a little too obsessed with a not yet started webcomic series 😓#but it brings me joy so its whatever! hopefully i ain't being overbearing about it-#also sorry for not citing anything- over halfway through writing this when i realized i should've been saving where i found this info #also apologies if the image ids aren't great-

4 notes · View notes

judithan-xing · 2 months ago

Note

I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT NEO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

PREPARE TO LEARN

so, in order to know more about Neo we must first discuss what the hell The Grim is. Originally The Grim was a story that me and my highschool best friend were co-writing. We had shared ocs and would draw them interacting and doing dumb shit. The "plot" of The Grim was supposed to be a fun serialized story about different paranormal investigative cases, except that it wasn't bunk paranormal stuff it was like real actual horrors. Like vampires, zombies, and most notable of all; SCPs. I was REALLY into SCP when I was a sophomore (when we came up with these ocs) and as such I thought it would be rly fun to make a series that has the tone of a goofy slice of life anime/manga but it covers more serious stuff like monster slaying and abstract horror.

Now, to explain Neo; he is the push of the push/pull dynamic protag duo. Originally I had his plot be that he's simply a pyromancer that can regenerate, which like, that's cool. But also since I wrote his plot when I was like ?? 14?? it's not done with any care and he has a 'psychotic break' which causes him to like, attack Harly but they still work together and are chill??? I dont know. It's rly old and I gotta rework it now that I'm not going for Maximum Edge TM.

For his new plot, I'm thinking of making his power be something along the lines of extreme energy generation. He can heal exceptionally fast but if he stores up too much energy he can literally just. Combust. Like a phoenix. As a result if he doesn't want to deal with Explosion Time he has to find a way to become extremely injured extremely fast, and this results in weird knife eroticism between him and Denev. They are in love. Denev will deny it, but they are so in love.

Also for some reason his original get-up was like, short shorts, no shoes, and him n Denev had these ugly ass matching hats???? I still have no idea why. Maybe it was the idea that like, theyre detectives they gotta wear detective-y things. Now they just have opposite-monochrome matching coats which I feel looks much nicer.

please enjoy these old ass 2012 sketches of Neo, since I don't think I had drawn him a single time between then and now.

Anyway, Neo is quite literally the Hot Pink Bitch Named Breakfast of the squad and is very much a landmine of emotions being like, in a fun and sexy way teehee!

I FORGOT TO MENTION; his hair is pink because one of the first cases him and Denev take on is for a vending machine that dispenses strange oddities and one of the things he got was jelly beans that permanently changed his natural hair color to pink. He is originally a brunette. Haunting, I know.

I love the idea that scps are real and worth investigating but overwhelming they're Just Inconvenient.

#hilariously i was showing this to my roomate and he goes #'is it bad i wanna smash the pink twink' LMFAO #neo is very popular #doodles #judithan talks #THANK YOU FOR THE ASK LOVE U MWAH MWAH MWAH

2 notes · View notes

classysushi · 1 year ago

Text

uhhh so i don't write enough to be practiced at it but i wrote out sort of a plan/monologue/script for a little joanfk fan comic or fanart. my hyper-fixations tend to fizzle out fast so if i don't do this soon it probably won't happen. So I thought maybe i'd share my notes/script. the premise is kind of a "jfk catholic something something joan of arc worship something something " (lol if this looks familiar it's because i submitted it as a fic idea to toxic clone high takes)

anyway here it is under the readmore: (if you'd rather wait for the fanwork and dont wanna read this you can comment and i'll tag you when i decide for sure i won't finish it or when i actually do decide to do it and finish it!!)

“you know how it gets, when you start learning about your clone parent… how, uh, when you’re a kid, ya wanna get [starts gesturing in the air for empasis] really…. [sort hunches over and shakes his hands in front of himself, like he is shaking around a lot of little things in a jar, and also like he is in his own head, getting too deep into a thought as he looks for it] really… … [stops the shaking, looks a little embarrassed] er, uh, [rubs back of neck] …..obsessed with em. [faraway look] You want to be anything and everything they are… [looks at joan. Sees that really isn’t what she is doing at all] …at least, uh, for me… that’s what it was like.

And JFK was, uh… catholic. That was kind of a big deal. Not, uh… for him. It wasn’t really a big deal for him, but it was a big deal ABOUT him. He-he didn’t really care! He wasn’t really that devoted. [gets a cheeky little look on his face] He, er uh, certainly didn’t live by some of those values, if you know what I—…. … … [stops to waggle eyebrows then gets embarrassed by Joan’s intense stare]… … but, uh, anyway,… [brows furrow as he is refocusing] anyway, it was… It was something that could have cost him the election. Americans thought that his loyalty to the pope would always outweigh his loyalty to the nation.

So it was… this part of him he didn’t really ask for but it… affected him a great deal….

…but uh, as a kid it was… well, I’ve aways… liked, er uh, … stories. I still do. It’s why I do decent in history. [shrugs as he gets off topic a bit] and I’ve always really liked when a person becomes a story— a real hero… so I got really into the mythology of catholicism, I got really into the… into the … [trails off, gets red] the saints.

[Joan starts to look pink]

[JFK is avoiding Joan’s gaze as he speaks]

They were magic figures, religious heroes, unimportant to but still inexplicably tied to my clone dad. I imagined that maybe they were secretly protecting him and guiding him, like guardian angels! ….. I, uh….., I may have lost the plot a little when it came to the actual catholicism. I really didn’t have it in me to make myself read a bible or anything like that but… the saints… each one a patron to those who need them… Uh, it was… really… it felt really personal, really… special.

And maybe… I mean there were a few but… … there was also… ….one… there was one, I thought… well surely he and I should have the same saint watching us and… [pauses, covers his mouth. He can’t say her name.]… She was…. patron saint of…uh… those ridiculed for their faith…. and… those in need of courage… and… he was… one and I was… the other.

[gets quiet, looking off into the distance as he continues, whispering almost.]

…you… AH, ..she- she would have… [trails off]

He-he was a confident guy but… I used to imagine her standing behind him and beside him… guarding him, sometimes gently but firmly pushing away his troubles with her sword…

Uh of course… a sword’s no match for a bullet [awkward chuckle/stress laugh]

…. But uh… maybe when I was born maybe she… she looked up and ….saw me? [looks at Joan, face RED, and she looks surprised]

and maybe she thought uh “oh!” uh…. “ there you are. there you went. Oh how,” uh, “how… small you are, now.” “…let me give you some fresh… courage. It’s… a different world. And.. and you’ll need it…After what you’ve been through. ”

And I just always thought, …and I always… imagined… she was watching me, and … and I was watching her back but I never dreamed… that I… er… that I’d… I’d really.. see her.

[JFK looks joan in the eyes, red in the face but ultimately with longing and awe in his eyes.] "

#clone high #joanfk clone high #ch jfk #might be ooc but like i said i am learning and havent really eanrestly written a fan thing in a long time #joanfk fic #KIND OF... not really a fic but i guess that's what this is close to #clone high fic

4 notes · View notes

basilspolaroid · 2 years ago

Text

soukoku wip :”im magnetic to the things you hate the most”

ok so i started this thing and idk if i should complete it or not

its basically where the pm is like a book publisher which chuuya was in, but acts as dazais replacement who left, and he finds dazais old pm book at a random library and gets attached to it for basically no reason (or so he thinks)

Each page precariously wailed with words of solemnity and passion. Remarks that he could never comprehend and had made no sense to him when he was but an adolescent traversing the world through the more… unconventional substances.

No gifted child could ever stray away from such solutions (even under his parents’ strict surveillance) which is why Chuuya fell in love with people who despised the words ‘success’ and ‘life’. Not so much that he had felt the same, he just enjoyed picking apart these ‘reasons’ and countering them in his own work.

It’s kind of dumb.

For this reason, he never wrote books - he wouldn’t dare. He sought so highly over etching out people's lives in their stories and feared those doing the same to his. No matter what conclusion they would arise, it would never be the one they expected.

That’s why Chuuya wrote poems, you can only speculate about something so short and vague, with the only factual evidence being a semantic field of pain and melancholiness.

So fuck, only a genius could write Chuuya’s story from that.

And that’s also what brought him to a bookstore.

Pondering over each book created anxiety fluttering through the pages as if the texts sweat under his gaze, which they most likely did.

Something about the pensive smell of a traditional bookstore dragged him in.

The types of books he enjoyed were vast and nonexistent—a divide between fairytale-esque worlds to fantasies created as a microcosm of real-world issues.

Something crafted to combat boredom, or in his case, burnout.

Nothing had captured his tastes quite yet, as such of a bohemian romantic.

Not until a certain Shuji Tsushima had bled into focus. A pen name, surely. Or possibly a name meant to shove the reader into a ruse.

Chuuya meekly slides a hand around the spine of the book, in a tight, strangler motion.

The cover is entirely duo chromatic, devoid of pigments but two contrasting fades, a fuchsia pink and a deep black, with a scene of a silhouetted statue.

“No Longer Human”

Shuji Tsushima.

A tale in which one traverses through life with Western ideas meshed with a traditional Japanese Aristocratic family, where he finds himself “disqualified from being human”. Obo Yozo attempts to create reasons to become obsessed with people and how they should be written. He records the cruelties of life and its fleeting moments of human connection and tenderness.

A true resemblance of pure sorrow and despair, a pathetic representation of mankind.

Truly, Chuuya didn’t mean to grab the book, something hypnotic pulled him against the tide and beckoned him to sink his teeth into Obo Yozo’s life. Prying open the paperback cover to skim the forefront page, usually containing reviews or a lettered version of the title, however, instead, was a short author note, nothing but four words, directly in the center of the page written in typewriter font.

To my future soulmate,

Soulmates? What a brash thing to believe in for someone who wrote a story of misery and weakness. Surely someone of that calibre would have no taste for soulmates, a metaphorical phenomenon for someone bound to you, destined to find each other despite the situation.

A stupid ideology.

Chuuya digresses, as his interest did not waver, and this ‘interest’ was piqued, as they would say.

Possibly a normal person would just brush it off.

Well, Chuuya is not normal, at least not to the degree that is considered ‘normal’. Chuuya Nakahara is a goddamn poet whether the world likes it or not, and he suddenly has a profound interest in Obo Yozo.

“Hey, are you getting that book or nah?” A voice bellowed from across the shelf towards the counter. The store owner stared at Chuuya with sleek almond eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Sure, sure, that’s fine. It’s been on that shelf a while, so it’s good to see someone buyin’ it finally. Although- I won’t lie, I only thought a proper nutter would buy it,” She shrugs, “Guess you are that nutter.”

Chuuya raises an eyebrow and shuffles closer to the counter than to the shelf, not yet placing the book down for purchase, “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said, mate. Weird story actually, some guy came in here and dropped the book on my desk. Told me to put it on sale in that exact corner you got it from. Dunno why, assume the guy must’ve been some friend of the author, spoke about the author on a first name basis and went on about some vengeance.”

The girl behind the counter frowned and widened her eyes, “But like, I don’t wanna put you off the book, y’know… It’s a bestselling book and stuff, so there’s gotta be some merit to it, but damn when I read the back couldn’t help but feel a bit irked. That’s prolly do to with the guy tho, seriously he was weird, had no eyebrows and shit.”

Alright, weird book with weird origins.

“Okay, and because some guy came and gave you the book means it’s scary?”

The girl tilts her head, “Uhm, well, I mean, that’s not everything. I may not seem like it, but I read a fair bit, sweetie, and I’ve read books by Dazai before, ain’t nothing weirder than his books. I’m just telling you, but it’s almost like the guy ain’t got a soul in him, no faith in humanity at all. Book’ll make you depressed for a good week after, but you seem like the typa guy to eat that stuff up.”

“Excuse me?”

“Kidding. Obviously.” She half smiles.

Chuuya slams the book onto the counter, “Just give me the book.”

This causes the girl to flinch and raise her arms, “Alright, calm down Speedy Gonzales.”

“That’ll be ¥1500- wait, Nakahar- damn, you’re in my English Anthology, old man.”

So when he briskly purchases the book and pockets the number with swift zephyr, nobody is surprised.

—

Yet, Chuuya does not even glance at the cover when he reaches his domicile. A place of tranquil importance, yet not in the aristocratic style of Obo Yozo. On the mention of him, Yozo truly was a despicable man.

Chuuya had never hated a character more than he hated Obo Yozo. He used as many women as he would see fit, just to fulfil his empty pleasure. Tsuneko was a prime example of such behaviour of Yozo. Fully consecrated by a vow of death, in which Yozo had deemed romantic yet tragic that she had passed and he had not.

“I drank the liquor. She did not intimidate me, and I felt no obligation to perform my clownish antics for her.” The only woman Yozo had ever loved was one who wished to die more than he did.

If Obo Yozo did not see himself as human, was Tsushima one to follow the same ideologies? To produce a story of pure irascibility, you must have many unwanted thoughts or even traumas.

Was this how Chuuya’s generation was reflected, through the eyes of a sorry sob?

The question still stood, why was Chuuya compelled to finish the entirety of the book despite loathing the main character’s decisions?

Would it be such a stretch to believe this author had anything but a heart?

Shit.

Chuuya slammed the book on its paperback cover. He doesn’t care what that woman said, what does he care? The person who wrote this book was probably just an entitled snob that didn’t deserve this much thought

“Y’know what, fuck this. Fuck this stupid book, and fuck this fucking… this fucking author.”

The moment he opened the book, his fate was sealed.

Poets are dramatic, as far as the stereotypes go, and well, they aren’t wrong.

Nothing been hurt more than anticipation however, as, the walls curved together and words pained to look at had shown that Chuuya has had enough.

He tossed the book, causing it to crash against the meagre wall, and pushed his throwover across his head.

—

I thought, “I want to die. I want to die more than ever before.

There’s no chance now of a recovery. No matter what sort of thing I do, no matter what I do, it’s sure to be a failure, just a final coating applied to my shame.

That dream of going on bicycles to see a waterfall framed in summer leaves—it was not for the likes of me. All that can happen now is that one foul, humiliating sin will be piled on another, and my sufferings will become only the more acute.

I want to die.

I must die. Living itself is the source of sin.”

—Osamu Dazai, No Longer Human.

#soukoku #ao3 #wip #dazai #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya #bungo stray dogs #bsd #archive of our own #archiveofourown #ao3 works #fic writer #ao3 fanfiction #ao3 wip

4 notes · View notes