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mjolnirswriststrap · 1 year ago

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Just Another Notch

Masterlist Part 2/?? Part 3

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size F!Reader

Summary: If Bucky thinks his charms will work on you, then you’re gonna put up one hell of a fight to prove him wrong.

Word Count: 1,711

Warnings: None, but will contain explicit content 18+, in future chapters, read at your own discretion.

Your alarm didn’t wake you, it was a loud knocking at your door. You jump up, tapping your phone screen to see that it was only 6am. Now you’re gonna be groggy all morning, your alarm was set for 6:45. You trudge to your door, ready to rip down whoever it was that woke you up. When you open the door you see Bucky with bright eyes, two coffees in hand. You quickly read the label and see that it’s your favorite cafe in Brooklyn. How did he get coffee from there this early?

“Good morning.” He chirps out, reaching one of the paper cups forward. You cross your arms in front of you, refusing the coffee. “How can I help you?” You say curtly. You take in his attire, he was ready for training. You could almost laugh, him and Steve take their sponsorships too seriously, can’t be seen exercising in anything other than Under Armor.

“I still felt bad about last night and thought, maybe I could repay you by helping you get a head start today.” The smirk on his lips did nothing to ease your agitated mood. “I said we’re even, it’s fine.” You say, wondering if he was being genuine. It was far too early for all of this. You rub your sleep filled eyes, pushing your hair behind your ears. “Anything else?” You say, wanting to get some more sleep before the day of literal hell you were about to endure. Physically, you were the apex, but mentally and strategically, not so much.

You couldn’t wield a gun, you’d been studying a makeshift dictionary of all the military terms Steve and Bucky say during missions. You couldn’t take directions. Besides overpowering the strongest guy in Kansas during a championship, you’d never learned how to combat fight. You have no clue where to hit someone or how hard so you don’t do fatal damage. You were written up on your first mission.

Your adrenaline was pumping and you thought the gunman was bigger than what he was, causing you to dent his chest in, instantly killing him. The punch was meant to lay him out, not kill him. You’d been reminded time and time again during initial training that the goal was to subdue, shield rehabilitates these criminals.

So now training was mainly a mental game for you. Sizing people up, you were no use against magicians or witches but physically, you worked hard to discern people’s capabilities. You’d never trained with Bucky or Steve before. You’d never fought against a super soldier, you couldn’t even imagine their strength. Therefore, you’d never opted to train with them.

“No, I’m sorry for waking you.” He says, his eyes tell a completely different story. But you hear some sincerity in his voice. Maybe you were being too harsh to him. He really hadn’t done anything wrong, yet. You were the one who assumed he was drunk, you were the one who enjoyed him innocently helping you clean his mess. If you put aside all your wild ideas, Bucky had actually been very nice to you.

While no one had made any progress in talking to you or really even introducing themselves, Bucky was willing to sit with you and enjoy a bowl of cereal, alone. No other outside force willing him to be there. He’d apologized after spilling milk on you, helped clean it. He wasn’t even looking, and you were speed walking behind him, what if it truly was just an accident. Here you were being rude to the only person who’s shown you kindness.

You wanted to hit yourself. Mentally you were painting your back porch red. Guilt was slowly filling you as you watch him drop his head, nodding as if he’s finally realizing the situation, you wanted him to leave. But not anymore, “Let me get dressed, 5 minutes!” You wait for him to look up at you before you close the door in his face, you could see his smile return, but this time it looked triumphant and genuine.

You want to play this game with him, you knew that much. So why not make a big move and wear your new sports bra set with matching spandex shorts. You’d never worn just a sports bra, and always wore leggings. Your best friend convinced you that you looked good in it, so Nike gladly took your money. This would surely prove your suspicion, were his intentions innocent?

You looked in the mirror, pushing and pulling at your breast in the tight spandex. Your cleavage had to be perfect for this to work. You rolled down the waistband of the shorts, letting it show off your curves. You run to the bathroom to do your morning routine. Walking out of your door in less than the 5 minutes you estimated. You had no idea why you had such a pep in your step. As if you were rushing back to him.

“Thanks.” You say taking the coffee from his hands. He stands there frozen as you turn for the elevator, he watches your ponytail sway across your shoulders, then he lets his eyes travel down, to see your back dimples on display. This one he would fight for, his improvised plan didn’t work last night, he’ll admit his ego was hurt a little by his advances not working. So he gave you another chance with coffee this morning.

It almost didn’t work, he was showing real sadness when you rejected him again, but out of self pity, not because you were being rude. But it worked, and you folded. Judging by the way you’re dressed, he knew you were playing along with him. He would win in the end, he always does. Besides, you’d be an adversary opponent and the best prize.

You wish you could’ve told him black coffee wasn’t really your style, but you had too much pride, sipping it empty on the way down to the training floor. Bucky would probably go left to the gym, and you’ll go right, to the simulation room. It was handy for someone like you. Training with real people was a liability, so holograms it was. “See you later.” You nod to him.

“Where you going? I thought we were training together.” He sounds disappointed. “Oh you meant like the two of us? I thought it was a wake up call, not an invite.” You scratch the back of your neck, kind of embarrassed. “I figured you could use the change of scenery.” He laughs.

You follow him into the gym, a place you’d only been once, during the orientation tour. It was huge, needing the capacity to handle super hero’s being thrown around. Bucky walks over to a bench, setting down his coffee cup and shedding his windbreaker jacket. You toss your empty cup in the trash can beside the door, slowly walking up to him. “So what did you have in mind?” You ask, nervous as to what exactly you had gotten yourself into.

“First some basic warm up drills, then I figured I could help you with that strength depth perception.” He grabs two jump ropes from the wall and tosses one your way. “Fury was worried about you at the last meeting.” You roll your eyes, of course he was.

“I didn’t know you discussed me at meetings.” You say, starting to jump rope. He joins you a second later, going miles faster than you. “We discuss everything, especially things that could be a liability.”. He wasn’t wrong, it rubbed you wrong that you couldn’t defend yourself at these meetings. But you understood why they did it, you killed a man.

“Right.” You huff out, stopping and dropping the jump rope, you had no endurance. Bucky continues for another minute, the rope turning into a blur as it whizzed around him. You ran the track around the perimeter of the gym, till you legs felt like jelly. Again, Bucky kept going, literally running laps around you.

When he came to a jog in place in front of you, you took in the fact that no sweat had formed on his brow, meanwhile you left a puddle in the floor when you stood up. “Okay, let’s start with defense.” He brings his fist to face level and you match his stance. “We both know you have offense covered. But what about protecting yourself. Other people are strong too.” He made a good point.

You had beginners luck, dodging the first punch Bucky threw at your stomach. The second, not so much. You suck in a breath when his metal fist makes contact with your rib. “You’re supposed to block!” He sounds upset, like he was the one who just got hurt. “Yeah I got that.” You wheeze out, dropping to your knees, clutching your stomach.

Just as you’ve almost composed yourself the door to the gym swings open. “Are you ready for complete destruction, son?” It’s Steve walking in, but his face immediately drops when he sees you. “Excuse me.” He’s obviously embarrassed. You just look at Bucky and try to hold in a laugh. “Seriously?” You whisper, his cheeks are red but he nods.

“I’ll take that as my cue.” You say, waddling over to the vending machine in the corner. The blue on the Aquafina label reflected in your eye. You’re gonna die if you don’t get a drink. You tap your Apple Watch to the card reader, typing in A5, as you watch your water bottle be mechanically maneuvered around through a glass window you hear whispering. “She needs a snack already?”

You don’t know who said it, just that someone did, you didn’t turn around. Preferring to pretend it didn’t happen, you grab the water from the machine, drinking the whole thing in a couple chugs. You smash it between your hands, completely flattening it to the width of paper. It was loud, the cracking of the plastic, it silenced their hushed words. As you toss it into the trash can beside the door, you turn around and address both men.

“Thirst and hunger are two different things, wouldn’t you say?” And you leave, pushing past Natasha in the hallway as you make your way to the simulation room.

Taglist: @cjand10 @winterslove1917 @honestlywork @calwitch

#avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #avengers #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #mcu #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky x reader

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from-izzy · 1 year ago

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[03:10] | the boyz kim sunwoo

Sunwoo hums to acknowledge your thoughts. "Let's try again, okay? Together this time."

PAIRING » tbz kim sunwoo x gn!reader (fast proofread once! lmk if i missed anything!) TROPE/AU » established relationship au!, non-idol au! GENRE » hurt/comfort at night (morning), fluffy fluff fluff, a sprinkle of angst, sunwoo being your understanding and patient boyfriend, sunwoo tucks your hair behind your ears (i find this so so so cute), big spoon sunwoo who protects you from the world, sunwoo tries to steal your (his) clothes because he's staying the night over and can't fit in yours WORD COUNT » 1836 ESTIMATED READING TIME » ~7 mins WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!) » reader has trouble sleeping, reader has a history of taking prescribed melatonin, mentions of unsupportive family, reader has medium to long hair, sunwoo is physically bigger and taller

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'

thank you for reading and helping with genres/warnings @sohnric !!

something that i wrote up back late december 2023 but only releasing today because it marks day 100 since i had my last melatonin pill. taking melatonin pills everyday since 2021 has had a toll on my body and i see the effects that it has on my body even more after stopping. with it, my body clock somewhat matches the time frame that society 'accepts'. without it, the birds chirp first and even though sleeping at 5-6am is exhausting, i tell myself to keep pushing on.

for another note, this story is not written to influence the audience into thinking that taking medication is bad! please take your medication properly and on time! do not be influenced and swayed by society for your health!

please always stay healthy and i'm rooting for you! hang in there! you can do this!!

You didn't need to look at the clock to know what time it was at night—or should you say at this point, day.

You were thankful that Sunwoo wasn't asleep yet or on a call with his friends when you sent him a message, asking if he was able to come over. You debated even texting him at first, seeing that it was past midnight but you remember the time he bent down to look at you at eye level, hugging your lips with his before pulling away and telling you to always send him a message if you ever needed him at any time and anywhere.

At that point, all your worries washed away as it was the exact words that you needed to hear from your loving boyfriend.

As soon as Sunwoo read and replied to your message, it took him less than ten minutes to appear on the other side of your window—but it took you a second quicker than him to open the said window before he could knock on its frame as all you did after you turned off your phone was put your arms around your legs, resting your chin on your raised knees and watch the mocking moon in the sky.

It was so high on a cloudless night that your stomach churned with anxiety and the truth that time waits for none kicks you in the gut devastatingly. The physical time tells society to sleep and wake up because that's the universal time to keep the world going. The long hand ticks in your head while the short one follows bit by bit—like a bomb that explodes when everyone greets you a ‘goodnight’. Your body has always run at a different time and even though the moon gives so much light and comfort to the night for some, it only serves as a grim reminder for you that your seven o'clock alarm will ring in less than four hours.

It's heartbreaking to realise your perception of the ray of light in the black night that you used to be excited for has changed as you grew older.

"Hey..." Sunwoo keeps you close to his body as soon as he jumps inside your room. One hand holds the back of your head gently, the other wrapping around your waist. He dips his head down to press a kiss to your forehead, a little smile against your skin on his soft lips, "You're okay. It'll be okay."

"I can't fall asleep, Woo..." Your hand harshly grips the leather material of his jacket at the sides of his body and the shape of your nails is most probably imprinted on his daily outwear by the number of times you've done this.

Sunwoo hums to acknowledge your thoughts. "Let's try again, okay? Together this time." His fingers that run through your hair leave you slightly breathless and you try to focus on his careful and slow action towards you, successfully easing your racing thoughts. "I'm here now, bubs."

The smile on his face grew when you nodded against his chest, still burying your face into his chest and to breath in his comforting scent that always seemed to calm your whole body. Delighted and relieved at your response, Sunwoo begins to sway his body from side to side, singing a gentle tune with his mellow singing voice that you love. He alternates between singing the romantic words straight to your ears and humming the words out as he presses multiple kisses on the parts of your face that he can reach.

"Were you sleeping when I messaged you?" You whisper guiltily to his chest.

"Don't worry about those little things." Sunwoo continued humming after. When he finishes singing the last note, your hands no longer hold onto his jacket for dear life, instead just leisurely around his waist. He pulls away just enough to finally face you in the limited light that your nightlamp gave. "Hi there, bubs."

The way Sunwoo says the pet name that you adore so much makes your heart break a little bit. You could tell at a glance that his eyelids were heavy, that he was probably trying to fight the yawn from his song and that his legs were probably trying their best not to fall asleep. Sunwoo quietly observes your trembling lips and he picks up the high possibility that you were most probably conflicted in your thoughts.

It still haunts you more than the moon outside; more than any horror movies or the amusement horror houses you’ve been in. Maybe it’s because, during all those situations, you had someone beside you. But it’s inevitable once again when your eyes won’t close that you think of the scene in the dining room. When that one artificial light hangs on the ceiling in the middle of the dining table, the square sides taken up by the other members of your family, you will never forget the disbelief and scoffs of disgust when you told them about the small white circle in the palm of your hand that your doctor prescribed.

"I'm so sorry. Maybe I should've just taken the medic—"

"Don't be like this to yourself." The moonlight behind your boyfriend highlights the tears that roll down your pale cheeks. Your heavy, shaky inhales are what prompts Sunwoo to bring yourself back to the present time. "I want to be here, okay? I want to take care of you." Your cold cheeks met the warmth of his palms, his thumbs brushing across the underside of your eyes to wipe your tears away while the rest tucked the lone strands of your hair behind your ears. "If you don't want to take the pills then you don't have to. Please don't be sorry for anything."

"But you're so tired..." It's a miracle that the sentence was comprehendable though it did break multiple times along the way.

He keeps his reassuring eye contact with you when he shakes his head, "You must be more tired than I am."

You whimper at his thoughts, biting your bottom lip to keep your cries from growing any louder. Sunwoo shakes his head once more, resting his forehead on yours and whispering sweet nothings to you delicately. His thumb lands on the outline of your bottom lip before lightly pulling it down to free it from the pain you were inflicting on yourself. When your cries did break out from your lips, restrains fully gone, your boyfriend's kind heart completely breaks.

Sunwoo takes your breath away by giving you his own when he tilts your head slightly to meet his plump lips. He drinks all your sorrows, cupping your jawline to bring you closer, the sides of your nose brushing against each other. Your lips stop trembling, focusing on the love and patience that he gives you. Your hands unclasp from his back, moving to curl and envelop his wrists, resting the pads of your thumbs on his to feel his calming heartbeat. The muscles that made your eyebrows furrow relaxed with the way that Sunwoo held you so carefully in the now-broken, silent night.

Sunwoo learns from the number of times that you have called him in this situation that showing you gestures like these are the fastest and most effective way to ease your mind and ground yourself. His heart does little loops and jumps every time before he kisses you but he is more focused on making you feel better than anything. As much as it makes him happy to know that he's the only one who could give you the loving gesture, nothing beats the feeling of knowing that you will always feel better and be in a better state of mind afterwards.

The boy pulls away eventually, scanning your face to look for any discomfort. When he found none, his thumbs continued to brush over your skin for a little while more, trailing a series of kisses from your forehead, the shape of your nose, your eyelids that protect his favourite pair of eyes to your precious lips that his own would never get enough of.

"May need to borrow some clothes, bubs." An eyebrow raises from him and a teasing grin makes its way to his face, "Even though ‘borrow’ is a weird word as it’s mine in the first place." A chuckle fills your room melodically. "Will you lend me my clothes?"

"And if I say no?" You did a little nose scrunch, pouting after.

Sunwoo is not the strongest soldier, especially not to your cute actions that sent his heart beating erratically against his chest when your sparkling eyes met his. "Bubs, I'm not going to fit in your clothes. Even if I could, I don't think you would like it when you get it back all stretched."

"I have oversized too, you know."

"You mean my clothes that are oversized on you."

Your eyes smile at the short conversation and Sunwoo's heart feels full and content, relieved to see the beautiful sight that he has always wished you would have in long nights like these.

After Sunwoo changes, you both cover your bodies with your weighted duvet. Just like before, he holds you close to his body, resting an arm for you to lay on before bending it up to soothingly run his fingers across your scalp. You smile contently, hiding your face to his chest, pressing a kiss on his jawline.

"I'll be here when you wake up. I promise."

Just like every time as an act of 'goodbye' or 'goodnight', you relish the forehead kiss that goes on for slightly longer than all the other forehead kisses. After a date and a long day, you would always pout and beg for another one, not wanting to leave his side yet. But on nights like these, when his arms would spoon your figure and you would hug his other free arm, you wouldn't need to pucker your lips to him, knowing well that it's a 'goodnight' and not a 'goodbye'.

"I love you so much, bubs."

"I love you so much too." You push your body up a little bit, careful not to crush the arm beneath you and press a final kiss to his lips before trying to reset your body clock for another day. "Thank you for coming, Woo."

"Anytime and anywhere. Never forget that."

Sunwoo did fall asleep first but his presence with his little snores and the warm exhale from his lips comforted you greatly. Your head seems to agree with your heart because when your eyelids become heavy and sleep finally overtakes your body, you're glad that the last thing two things you see before drifting off to one of the best sleeps in your life, are the sight of your intertwined hands between your bodies and the thought that you're blessed to have Sunwoo who loves you so much and so dearly.

Wrapped in patient love, the seven o’clock alarm didn’t seem scary to you anymore.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 'especially to you...' tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿 @sanaxo-o

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caprisun89bakerstreet · 1 month ago

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How to lucid dream in 3 steps

(shifting post)

Whether you’re into shifting or not, this’ll work.

Tips from someone who went from 0/1 dreams a night to 3/7 I’m able to remember vividly and consistantly has 2/3 lucid dreams per month

Start writing down all of your dreams. All of them. No matter how detailed, vague, long, short, write them all down. I personally have the app Oniri, which gives me a notification each morning to write down my dreams which i recommend. And i mean it when i say no matter how vague or detailed- i have dreams written down in paragraphs but also literally two words because i could only grasp a vague vibe or feeling or color, etc. But dream recalling is imo the first step and key to consistantly lucid dream

(And it’s hella fun to remember your dreams)

Start doing reality checks throughout the day. Just search up ‘reality checks’ and honestly any of them will work. Just do them a few times a day and really focus on your surroundings (5 senses) and you’re good. (might not work the first time but trust me keep doing them)

Affirm you’re gonna lucid dream, that you’ll get concious in your dream. You don’t have to do this but it help me at the start of me journey

And then see what happens. It’s that easy.

For me personally the WILD method never works (when you fall asleep and immediately end up in a lucid dream) because I’m always way too focused and don’t end up falling asleep. I lucid dream during like 4-6am and this is what has worked best for me!!!

Bonus content: how to become a dr strange variant and create portals in said lucid dream

I’ve taught myself how to create portals to my dr practically every time i lucid dream. Here’s how i did it.

Along with saying my affirmations and reality checks, i repeated the hand movements of dr strange when he creates a portal yk? And i affirmed I’m gonna create a portal that night and shift. And i did this during the day but when i layed in bed too before falling asleep. And eventually it worked, i got lucid during a dream and created a portal. And now we’re over a year later and I’m constantly creating them in my lucid dreams because the first thing I’m thinking of is shifting. Reprogram your mind.

Good luck guys and may the force be with you, you’ve got this 🩵

#yes i know a thing or two about lucid dreaming #i keep stepping into a void tho and wake up #shiftblr #reprogramyourmind #shifting #shifting community #shifting blog #lucid dreaming #multiverse #dr strange #manifesting #loa tumblr #law of assumption #reprogramming #star wars shifting #mcu #marvel #doctor strange

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hyomreogi · 3 months ago

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Trajectory—SHIDOU RYUSEI

Mb if ooc. damn i haven’t written in so long uh

SHIDOU RYUSEI x GN!READER-Romance isn’t really the focus here.

Reader is more so nonchalant rather than Shidou’s extravagant, cool and fun personality. Though reader is a little insane due to pressure from their peers.

pretty short since i js want you guys to have something to read. :) eng isn’t my first language, sorry!

-love hyomreogi <3

TRAJECTORY—He changed the trajectory of your life.

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It’s a wonderful morning to be awake, right? Friday mornin’, almost the weekends. Fuck you need a break from all of those activities..but still, nonetheless, they were somewhat enjoyable.

“Hm..mornin’..” Groggily muttering to your pet, or just to yourself. Sure, waking up wasn’t the best thing ever. Especially with an alarm screaming in your ear..

Your hand made a movement to turn the alarm off, your eyelids opened to check the time before so.

Hm, 5:00am. Enough time for you to get ready and leave at 6am for school. It’s almost Saturday, surely nothing can even go wrong. Rest is near.

Sitting up on your bed, taking off the comforter to head to the bathroom. Slipping your clothes off as you head into the shower.

After dressing up and drying up, you ate your breakfast. Saying goodbye—to nobody. You were alone, right. It’s hard, i guess. I mean, everyone needs someone to talk to at least one time per week besides yourself and online people. Not? Completely fine. Up to you. Well, alone besides that weird painting you bought at a festival. It’s as if someone’s soul got trapped in it.

You should name it—what am I saying? Go to school and make everyone proud. Like how you always do. One thing you aren’t looking forward to? That blond, pink cockroach.

Entering the school gates, the sounds of students chattering and constantly walking echoing in your ears as you made your way to your classroom. Ah right! You have a meeting today as Student Council President with the other members, hopefully this won’t be postponed again as you need to have a plan for this school’s exams week coming up and festival.

“Heyyy!! Pretty president!!” Speak of the fucking devil. You didn’t hate Shidou, just mildly dislike him with how energetic he is.. “Missed me yettt?? I have a game, can you come??” He playfully shook you, as if wanting to persuade you into coming. Well, you were coming either way.

“No and yes, tune it down a little would you? It’s 6 in the morning.”

Hearing ‘yes’ out of your mouth made him smile. He would understand if not but again, would he?? He’s..a little bit of a troublemaker. Actually, not a little. He tends to get in fights that quickly turn physical due to his energetic personality.

After hours of dealing with him and tests, it was lunch break. I mean, nothing’s gone wrong yet. Right? No. Wrong. There is that dumbass in all his glory, picking a fight with someone who had insulted you. I mean, at least he sees you close enough to him as to get mad whenever people insult you? Even if it is questionable.

You hated seeing your fellow students so worked up like this; or most of the time. An annoyed sigh made your way as you brung Shidou to the detention room and helping that other student into the nurse. Dammit he went too far, kinda impressive that he’s able to fight this good though.

“You got into another fight. THIS IS THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK.” You spoke in a somewhat commanding way, slamming the desk, intimidating, huh..he can’t lie.

You weren’t having it. You don’t need anymore stress to pile onto it and it showed. But he did it for you. “..my bad? But he was saying SHIIIIT about you. I couldn’t help it—i know we aren’t in a damn good relationship but you’re my fucking friend!”

Though to others, maybe you two were more than friends.

You sighed, calming down with a few breaths and a fake smile as you tried to keep your composure. “..that’s nice of you Shidou but I can handle this MYSELF. I don’t need your sorry ass to help.”

The hell?? Is his exact thoughts. You didn’t need help? I mean, sure you were strong enough. If not stronger to handle this. But the strongest people have the most sensitive hearts.

“dammit—[name] you’ve been stressed this whole fucking week! Look, sorry for those shitty things I did to those students. But you need help. You can’t keep fucking procrastinating.”

He may be one of the worst students in terms of aggressive behavior but I’m sure he has a heart. He just showed you his. And he can’t help but to be right. You procrastinate and you’re slowly going insane.

“..shidou, I can handle it myself. I’ll ask for help when I need it—but at least I know you’re less of a damn nuisance.”

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It came the time that Shidou was in a..special team to play for in Football. You saw Shidou scan the crowd to try and find you in the massive stadium.

Your eyes interlocked with him and he flashed the most cheshire grin you’ve seen. Making girls—and boys, squeal at him. He’s a natural charmer.

He may or may not have shot majority of the goals to get the pretty president’s attention. But it was worth it. He got a pretty boy’s number AND the pretty president’s eyes on him.

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After the match, he screamed and ran up the seats of the stadium to locate you. Once he did? Dammit it felt like you two haven’t met in years to him. Despite you two getting in a fight just earlier.

Running into your hands he screamed. Usually you’d hate it and push him off—maybe this time it's different.

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#blue lock #shidou ryusei #bllk #shidou #ryusei shidou #bllk shidou #shidou x reader

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phoenixtakaramono · 9 months ago

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Into the Butchlander Multiverse Threadfic - Part II

Tumblr Navigation: I | II

EXCERPTS: "Fuck being a gentleman. If I waited for you any longer, we'd both be in our eighties. ...So believe me, William. As much as this hurts me to do this...you have to be punished a little." | Like a brat who doesn't realize the consequences of his actions and that he's about to get spanked, Homelander invites with an easy grin, "Well, gentlemen, which one of you wants to go first?"

CW: 🔞 scene involving 7 Butchers sandwiching 1 Homelander, spoilers for The Name of the Game (AO3), Truce (AO3), and my other butchlander AU threadfics these 5 Butchers originate from

(You can read the rest of the threadfic update here!)

If you don’t have a Twitter account, screenshots are provided below the line break so you can read this update on Tumblr as well (contains ⚠️🔞 below, so proceed with caution if you’re out in public):

Billy recognizes the pensive look Homelander's directing over at Billy's doppelgängers, with his pretty blue eyes all expressive and forlorn.

Once Sameer wanders out of earshot, Homelander floats on over to Billy, his deep honeyed voice full of longing as he whispers, "Why can't we keep them here?"

Billy is not about to sit down and explain to Connie Butcher née Atkinson why she suddenly has a set of seven nearly-identical septuplets—when she'd only given birth to two sons.

Neither does Billy want to share his Homelander with them.

But instead of voicing his true thoughts aloud, Billy retorts calmly, "Because, John, you have me, don't you?" The moment the name fell from his lips, he knows he's gotten Homelander's attention. Billy spares him a look.

They were going to have a nice long chat about the dreams Homelander had mentioned having—but now’s clearly not the time for that conversation.

"Besides...they all got their own Homelanders to go home to.” Billy offers a smirk. “Let's not separate the lovers, eh?"

It's the smart answer, because that's what gets Homelander to reluctantly do away with any of his dark intrusive thoughts to sabotage the machine and hold all six Butchers back as some sort of f*cked up modern-day harem of Butchers to cater to him, preventing them from returning to their worlds.

But it's an answer that must've jinxed Billy’s, because the moment that all six Butchers blink out of existence in a brilliant glow, the machine starts sparking. Sameer��s shouts for a fire extinguisher are heard as a blanket of smoke buffets the air.

The overhead sprinklers came on, raining down on the sparking machinery.

But that’s not the issue. Because now, standing in the vacated space of the six Butchers who'd disappeared, six Homelanders, and his Homelander, are staring back shell-shocked at one equally stunned William J. Butcher.

(The End...?)

———

(A/N) - Y'all... Groan with me, because this writer had written completely beautiful romantic prose that'd been 58 tweets long at the end from 1AM to 6AM—when my computer decided to restart on me. 😂😥 I did my best to recreate what I could remember here, but we light candles for what could've been my best 🔞 writing for a threadfic, ahhhhhh. I did my best but this is only a 60% recreation. RIP 💀. I hope y'all enjoyed nonetheless! ✨（￣︶￣）↗　

By the way, the ending is open-ended because it teases a second follow-up to this threadfic. But it won't be till later when I start it.

#butchlander #billy butcher #homelander #the boys #the boys tv #billy butcher x homelander #the boys amazon #threadfic #butchlander multiverse threadfic

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eemoo1o-animoo · 8 months ago

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10 Grelle-based paraphernalia that I found on eBay, in no particular order but my subjective deeming of relevance or importance

Possibly part one of a series? Perhaps?

If so, then I probably won’t contain it to only eBay, and I’m going off of what comes up for someone who’s based in the UK, so maybe there’s more or less stuff available if you’re in other countries due to shipping limitations, etc.? But eBay at the moment is my main source, and I’m only doing this — work that anyone can do, nothing exceptionally thorough or insightful — because I’m just a little bored, and I know Grelle is the most valued in the fandom and TSOGTR hasn’t been writing itself for the past year and a quarter, so why would it start now?

This is written at 3AM-6AM on 29/8/2024, so if this is found long after this date then there’s a chance my sources have already been bought out or deleted for whatever reason.

Grell Sutcliff Funko Pop 18 Kuroshitsuji Black Butler POP! Vinyl Anime Figure

At the time of writing this, there are no bids for this and so the price remains at £21.99 (item and shipping). The current bid is due to end on ≈1/9/2024. Wait for the last second to bid one pence higher than the asking price and you’re golden.

I actually have one of these, but it was gifted to me, and so I don’t know how much mine was sold for, but seeing as the four Black Butler Funko Pops have been vaulted and are sold for way higher in other places online, I think this is a pretty good deal.

(Fun fact, the person who gifted her to me as well as tracked down other cheap listings for the other three called her Greta. Consistently. So. Greta. Greta Sutcliff.)

As we can see from the item’s pictures, the figure has been taken out of its box, at the very least just to be show-cased or inspected, but it does appear to come with the box. Here is a listing on Amazon (9.99 GBP, excluding shipping) for 10 Funko Pop display sleeves that should match the item’s measurements.

The current conversions for this item’s price (18.99 GBP) are as follow:

25.06 USD

36.91 AUD

33.77 CAD

22.52 Euro

2,103.26 INR

855,31 Turkish Lira

39.92 NZD

3,623.33 Yen

Obviously I’m not including every conversion in here, only the most obvious/prevalent. If your country’s currency isn’t here, then my apologies, and feel free to bring it to my attention (with currency named) so that I may add it to any future episodes to this possible series, or to edit this post back with the conversions of that time.

Black Butler PVC Keychain Grell

The description of this listing says that this is officially licensed and from one reverse image search to find a bunch of listings across several websites for it, I’m inclined to believe that this is actually an official piece of merch and not a fan-made item that is being resold as I had originally thought it to be. (Wow, I’m such a knowledgable Black Butler fan. I know, I know.)

There’s not much to say on this other than the fact that it’s cute and I think a few pence has been shaved off from the original selling price, though I’m not too sure. I imagine it would have easily gone for 8.99 GBP, but again I’m not too sure; it’s 3AM after all and this isn’t a serious project for me.

The current conversions go as followed:

11.87 USD

17.47 AUD

15.99 CAD

10.66 Euro

996.15 INR

405,49 Turkish Lira

18.90 NZD

1,715.62 Yen

Grelle Black Butler manga plushie Anime Soft Toy

It’s not the best price, I admit. If you’re looking for something cheaper then maybe go for the 5" plush, and there’s another listing on AnimeWare, but once tax and shipping get evolved it ends up being more or less the same price, anyway.

I think this is under the same line as Plushlois comes from, and to that I say: if someone buys her, will that come back? Will Grelle’s face be remade by @fancymeatcomputers, as @nullbutler’s Plushlois once had?

Anyway, she’s super cute. Her hair is a bit too saturated, but that’s not much to lament over, and she’s pricey, but is still far less expensive than any available Plushlois listing I could find (£52!! Usually!!).

Here are the current conversions:

39.61 USD

58.30 AUD

53.35 CAD

35.58 Euro

3,323.16 INR

1,351.58 Turkish Lira

63.01 NZD

5,727.47 Yen

Black Butler Kuroshitsuji Grell Undertaker Anime two sided Pillow Case Cover 250

I’d originally listed another pillow for listing number four, which goes for the same price, but decided not to as Grelle is more prominent on this one.

Not much to say about this other than as far as I can tell it’s just the pillowcase and not a case and a pillow, but if you want to add a lil extra something to your Grelle shrine or limit your chances of finding a normie partner by having this as the centrepiece to your 20-something pillow statement on your romantic four-post bed.

Here are the current conversions:

7.91 USD

11.64 AUD

10.65 CAD

7.10 Euro

663.67 INR

269.94 Turkish Lira

12.58 NZD

1,143.54 Yen

Black butler Grell Sutcliffe figure Kuroshitsuji SEGA PVC Scale Anime s01

Another shambolic price, I know. But out of all the non-Funko Pop Grelle figures listed, this is definitely the cheapest.

Out of all of the non-Funko Pop Black Butler figures, it’s far from it. I think the cheapest figures went to Ciel and Sebastian, but with a massive gap between the cheapest Ciel figure versus the cheapest Sebastian figure (there’s a lot of listings for this particular figure, all with free shipping and of similar prices). There’s also a listing that sells Sebastian and Grelle together with free postage, which would value each figure as far less than what this one figure is being sold for.

The current conversions (of 130.22 GBP) go as follows:

172.00 USD

252.73 AUD

231.50 CAD

154.48 Euro

14,430.37 INR

5,874.98 Turkish Lira

273.31 NZD

24,865.90 Yen

Black Butler Grell Sutcliff Cosplay Costume Red Death Men Full Set Outfits New

I’m not much of cosplayer or a cosplay fan, but from the few full cosplays I found that range from £40-50, this seems like a good price.

There’s also a good few listings for Grelle-style shoes? The cheapest of which would be here. And both the shoes and the clothing come in men’s sizes, so it’s a match if you ask me.

The current conversions of the cosplay’s price are:

23.76 USD

34.92 AUD

31.98 CAD

21.34 Euro

1,993.77 INR

811.52 Turkish Lira

37.76 NZD

3,435.09 Yen

Kuroshitsuji Black Butler Madam Red Angelina Dalles Anime Figurine - Play Arts

Look. I know this isn’t a Grelle figure, but I assume that most if not all Grelle fans are also Madame Red fans. And you have to admit that this is a damn good price for a figure of this type. In fact, I’d say this figure is the second cheapest, right behind the aforementioned Ciel figure.

Also the seller has the username “welsh lady”. Surely it’d basically be treason if I didn’t promote it.

The conversions of the item price (6.99 GBP) go as follows:

9.23 USD

13.57 AUD

12.43 CAD

8.29 Euro

774.85 INR

315.29 Turkish Lira

14.68 NZD

1,336.09 Yen

USED Dolk Black Butler Book of Circus Grell Sutcliff Cast Doll 700mm Japan RARE

This is a fucking awful price. It hurts just to imagine buying this. However, it seems like a rare or custom-made doll, in a fancy box, and it was the only listing I could find of it, meaning it’s not a re-sell.

There’s not much to say — as you can see I ranked it pretty low on the relevancy scale, but I don’t know: maybe someone’s into this sort of thing, especially if it comes to Grelle.

The item prices are converted as follows:

2,805.52 USD

4,123.16 AUD

3,776.66 CAD

2,519.24 Euro

235,385.31 INR

95,779.75 Turkish Lira

4,458.47 NZD

405,826.75 Yen

1 x playing card Black Butler Anime Sebastian Michaelis - Jack of Hearts ZT 85

For one playing card, to me this price seems ghastly. There’s also a Sebastian variant for the exact same price, but that’s all I can find in this style. The other listings for Black Butler playing cards aren’t in this style, coming wholly in colour with patterned frames. As far as I can see, on eBay there are only two listings for this type of playing card, and I’ve already linked them both to this post.

The current conversions of the item price (2.49 GBP) are:

3.29 USD

4.83 AUD

4.43 CAD

2.95 Euro

276.04 INR

112,34 Turkish Lira

5.23 NZD

476.23 Yen

10.

Black Butler Ceramic Mug Grell, Sebastian

There’s a more expensive mug with just Grelle on it that I’d contemplated listing here instead. (And, hey! From Germany, too. The TSOGTR imagery just won’t quit.) But this one is cheaper.

Besides, enough scrubbing with some iron wool will get rid of that ugly demon mug (no pun intended) in no time, surely!

The current conversions go as follows:

19.62 USD

28.84 AUD

26.41 CAD

17.62 Euro

1,646.22 INR

669,76 Turkish Lira

31.17 NZD

2,841.32 Yen

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #grell sutcliff #grelle sutcliff #redcliff #madame red #madam red #angelina dalles #ebay #anime figure #merch listings #images #list #linked post #links #custom doll #ooak doll #original post #long post

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 1 year ago

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The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 4

ANOTHER CHAPTER IN LESS THAN A WEEK. BRING ON THE GRINDDDDDD. I will warn that my motiviation for each of my fics comes in waves, so you'll probably get chapters in random chunks ngl. Enjoy!

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 4590

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Mentions of murder. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

PART 1: Chapter 4

Unconditional Violence.

Bambsquabbled (Definition): A 19th Century American slang word essentially meaning stupefied or confounded. (Adjective)

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 18th December, 1929.

You had expected the additional Tuesday Mr LeBlanc had given you off to prepare yourself for the radio company to consist of you sleeping in until 11am. But dreams are short lived when you have an aunt who insists the ass-crack of dawn is prime time for everything.

You guessed it was fun to climb onto the roof of your relative’s vast home to collect the crystals you had both put out under the full moon, before the energy given to them was whisked away by the rays of the early golden hour. But when nerves settle in like the green spirals of nausea the night before, sleep takes the hand of another, leaving you to lay there with your over-active mind as it drags you through every possibility and event that could end up with you looking like an idiot in front of your new colleagues, or worse. Can’t think of much worse. But the universe will find a way.

It always does.

When Wednesday finally rolled around, it was barely 6am and you already couldn’t wait for it to be over. Your cousins had found you curled up on the bench swing, having dragged your duvet outside as you balled yourself up like a worm, sipping on the iced tea Agnes had bought you the day before in an attempt to settle your nerves. It did. A little.

And now here you were, the first half of your new workday having gone as smoothly as your awkward self could do.

Ethel, who’s desk was closest to yours, had dubbed you the quiet one after spending an hour running her mouth at you with barely a break for you to chime in. You had also already created quite a commotion on the third floor, a few people intrigued by the new ‘foreigner’. Well – as foreign as you can get when you’re from another English-speaking country, in the biggest cultural melting pot of a city had ever seen in your rural life. But they found you interesting enough.

The oddest thing you had experienced that day, however, was a strange request from your new boss – Mr Durham himself.

“I don’t suppose you know how to pull off a local accent?” he had asked when showing you the phone on your desk.

All you could do was blink at him. “I’m sorry?”

He gestured to the phone. “Since you’re my assistant, you’re gonna be filtering through the calls I get before passing them onto me. Now, there might be an issue if someone calls expecting to hear me, but instead find themselves speaking to a British girl on the other end. Some can be impatient and might end up putting the phone down before you explain.”

Memories of that one very unpleasant phone call flooded your mind. “Even if I answer: ‘Hello W.A.D Radio, this is Mr Durham’s assistant speaking’??” you replied monotonously.

“You’d be surprised.” He sighed. “But do you know how to anyway?”

Frowning, you recalled your time in the cities further in the North. “I guess..? A girl I rented a room from in New York insisted on teaching me for when we went into town, but I struggle to see how it’s important?”

The man put his hands together, pointing them at you in a prayer motion. “Just.. try it out? Talk like your colleagues when you see them, to see if you can get a hang of it – I’m sure they’ll be happy to help. Please?”

You gave him a wavering look, but sighed, finally giving in. “Fine, but they can’t make fun of me.”

He beamed, patting you on the back in satisfaction. “I’m sure they won’t! I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

And with that, you sat in your new chair, trying to pointedly ignore the sign at the other end of the room that pointed you to the fifth floor, and began your attempt to settle in.

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 8th January, 1930.

There wasn’t much to celebrate when the new decade rolled around. Gone were the so-called ‘Roaring Twenties’, when you would join your parents at the parties and balls they were invited to – when it was acceptable, of course; those higher up in the class hierarchy still grasped to the dwindling standard that children should be seen, not heard. The year you turned eighteen ended up being quite interesting, when the older women who had turned snooty at the sight of your teenage self wandering around their stately homes, tried to attempt a 180°, as they congratulated you reaching adulthood with strained smiles. But you paid them no mind, too busy staring at the paintings or statues that lined their corridors – a stark contrast to the more barren and plain wallpaper that coated the walls you grew up in.

But now that was far behind you, the English garden parties in the spring and summer that you adored so much were now a mere echo in the distances of your mind. The noises of tiny forks clinking on fine china as the little birds twittered in the trees now replaced by the sputtering and groaning of automobiles as you gripped the pole of the tram, your arms tight against your chest as you tried your best to not let the swaying of the vehicle toss you about into the crowd of packed bodies around you.

Making sure the scarf was tucked safely around your neck, you grasped the small briefcase in your hand – mentally preparing yourself for you first day back at the radio station after the new year. Unfortunately for Mr Durham, a small hurricane had passed over during the holiday, and radio stations across the city were temporarily silenced as their mechanics desperately attempted to repair the damaged towers. And also unfortunately for you, only the hosts were offered a couple days off as things got back up and running, though some still showed to prepare for their shows; you, on the other hand, were still expected to show up like any other day.

So here you were, pushing open the (now familiar) double doors, giving a small wave to the receptionist, who’s name turned out to be Diana, and the woman barely raised her hand in response as she continued to tiredly shift through the concerningly large stack of papers on her desk.

You were just about to climb the wide staircase when you heard her call your name (something you were very surprised she knew, considering her tendency to ‘accidentally’ throw paperwork in the bin on the daily), and your wedge heels clacked against the tile flooring as you stumbled slightly, turning to face her as her nasally voice echoed around the large lobby.

“It’s best you stay in the shadows today.” She warned cryptically. “Trouble’s in, and the mechanic’s not happy about the damages – Durham’s getting the brunt of it, but you’ll end up in the crossfire unless you hide out during breaktimes.”

All you could do for a moment was stand and stare, a million thoughts running through your mind. Mostly about who ‘Trouble’ was, and why Diana thought you couldn’t handle the guy and the other mechanic. You did handle the radio man at the repair shop after all, and speaking of the radio, you were quite proud to say you had finished the it in time for Christmas, and had shipped it off with a very passive-aggressive note that hinted for the man to basically never return. Luckily, Mr Boudreaux hadn’t replied to any of your letters since you had begrudgingly accepted the object, but you had suspected he had called the shop once or twice, and you had left Mr LeBlanc to deal with it, mostly because he was quite terrified you would call another customer every name under the sun the second they tried to give you trouble.

Glancing back and forth between Diana and the stairs, you mumbled a slow “Oookay…” before nodding your head and turning on your heel to hurry up the steps. Reaching the third floor, you didn’t stop in your path as you neared your desk, instead dropping your briefcase onto the wooden surface as you dashed by, striding towards the door that had the golden plaque engraved with ‘Mr B. Durham’ onto it. Grasping the handle, you turned the knob, swinging the door open, only to stop in your tracks as you were met with a very empty office.

You frowned. It must be really bad if your boss was no where to be seen. Whipping around, you scanned the main room for him, but only saw a few of your colleagues, the rest still yet to arrive – you were normally expected to be in early to handle Durham’s work as soon as he began.

Throwing your coat and scarf on your chair, you strode back towards the stairs, readjusting the suspenders of your wide-legged trousers as you practically jogged up the steps, and ended up rolling the sleeves of your loose blouse to your elbows as you tried to catch your breath.

On the fourth floor, you spent a couple minutes checking all of your boss’s usual haunts or hiding places, even going as far as interrogating a couple of the workers there for his whereabouts. It wasn’t until some blonde guy that came wandering down the steps from the fifth floor that you got your answer, the man looking up to take in your slightly dishevelled and feral appearance with wide eyes as he stammered out that he was in one of the radio booths. To his further horror, you patted him on the cheek with a thanks as you rounded him, ready to take another flight of stairs to reach your – apparently – floundering boss.

Ignoring the embarrassed sputtering of the man behind you, you eye the sign nailed to the wall, the painted hand pointing upwards with a very bold ‘FIFTH FLOOR’ next to it.

“Don’t go up there until I say you’re ready, okay?” Mr Durham’s words echoed through your mind.

Buuuuut, he did say he wanted to discuss the stuff you brought in your briefcase ASAP.

Yea that’ll be your excuse. You can deal with his complaining later.

Reaching your heel-clad foot out, you took the first step, almost like you were expecting an axe to come swing down and impale your forehead. But when nothing happened, you shrugged, and simply continued up.

Recalling the path your boss had taken you on during the initial tour, you managed to find the dreaded corridor that supposedly housed your greatest nightmare.

Extroverted people.

Yeesh.

At that thought, you did consider turning around, but your urge to drag your boss’s arse back downstairs drowned that thought out, and you carried on.

Surprisingly, it was quiet, but at the same time not so much when you remembered that most of them were plating their somewhat wealthy behinds on their armchairs at home as the rest tried to fix the issues of the storm.

Reaching one of the lit rooms, you heard raised voices.

“–really expect me to know? –” “– supposed to be on in an hour! How is that –”

Cautiously, you peeked around the corner to try and witness the potential fiasco. And what a fiasco it was.

Wires, cables, and any other random parts that were used for radio technology were strewn across desks, tables and even the floor. Amongst these were two men, and there was only one you recognised.

Just like you had seen him every day for the past month, Mr Durham was stood in his washed-out blue suit and concerningly shiny shoes, and at this point one hand was on his hip, whilst the other rubbed tiredly at his face as whom you assume was the mechanic, was blabbering the poor man’s ear off as he ranted on and on about random parts and problems and he gestured frantically at said random parts and problems. Wait – nevermind, you recognised one and a half.

The man from across the street was here, with his back to you. Again. For fuck’s sake.

This time he was back in the seat you first saw him in, this time with a few strands of dark-brown hair out of place, curling slightly as if to rebel against the intense styling he had put it through. Peeking your head out slightly further, you managed to get a good look at him.

Well for one, he was a triangle. Stupidly broad shoulders that narrowed into a stupidly small waist (triangle), with lanky legs long enough that you could probably chop them off and fashion them into skis. Despite his face not revealed, you could see the semi-light tan on his hands, that were busy turning knobs and dials as he listened in to whatever was coming through the headphones on his head. He was dressed to impress, to say the least, in smart, dark-grey trousers, who’s ironed out edges looked as if they could slice through skin. His high collared cream shirt was tucked away under a relatively tight looking reddish-tan waistcoat, and to top it all off, you could see the back of the black ribbon that was most likely tied in a stupidly even bow.

You didn’t want this guy to sense your staring, so you opted to look back at the other two men who were still chuntering on about god knows what. Stepping into the light that flooded through the glass, you wave slightly to try and get your boss’s attention. A couple seconds passed, and you watched as the mechanic kept glancing at you and Mr Durham, until eventually he nudged the other man on the shoulder, pointing you out.

Turning his head, Mr Durham’s eyes met with yours, and you raised your hand with a questionable thumbs up to see if all was good, only to watch in slight confusion as his eyes widened, and he whipped his head rapidly between you and the faceless man sat at his desk, before marching over to the door and pulling it open a crack, sticking his head out.

“Hey uh,” he half-whispered, surprisingly nervous at your presence. “what’re you doing here?”

You lowered your voice to match his. “You said to come find you as soon as possible this morning, you know, to go over those statistics from that other station?”

Realisation dawned on the man’s face, and he reached up to drag his hand down the side of it. “Shit I forgot,” he cursed, and glanced over his shoulder before facing you again. “I’ll – uh… I’ll be down as soon as I get this sorted. Marty’s givin’ me a run for his money right now and the second Al takes his headphones off I’m gonna feel like I’m entering an early grave.”

Surprised, you eyed the man sat at the desk, who looked far too calm to be threatening anyone right now. “Ok… I guess it can wait. I’ll bring you some coffee up!” you chirped, and Durham went to call out that it wasn’t necessary, but faltered with a frown as he realised you were already halfway down the corridor.

Balancing the tray of cups and steaming jug the best you could, you reached the final step, retracing your route to the radio booth that your boss was probably getting murdered in. Walking up, you waited patiently until Mr Durham noticed you, and watched as he reluctantly trudged over to open the door.

Taking your first step in, you were hit with the very potent smell of strong black coffee, as if someone had some brewing every day, and you figured you had made the right call of fetching the same beverage as you placed the tray down on one of the tables.

The mechanic was still going off on one, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as you slowly began pouring the coffee into the cups, listening to the greasy-looking man speak.

“– there’s literally no reason that I can find that’s causing the local outage!” he spouted at your frowning boss. “The boys have already fixed the aerial, and David’s currently on-air and that’s working perfectly fine, so it has to be something in this room!”

During the man’s tirade, you noticed the rustling of papers, and looked over to see the faceless man again, still at his desk, but his hands were fiddling with no purpose, and his head was turned to the left slightly, showing his high cheekbone and the edge of his thin circular glasses.

Looked like someone else was listening in too.

Biting your smile down, you turned back towards the cups in your hand, only to have a glint of light pierce the corner of your eye, and you looked in the opposite direction to a large wooden box, with one of the panels removed, displaying the endless wires and springs that coiled and wound in every direction. But you weren’t looking at that, you were instead looking at the screwdriver that was very prominently glinting in the shine of the ceiling light. This must be the painstakingly obvious problem that the mechanic had painstakingly missed.

Giving a quick glance over at the men, you waited until they faced away, scrapping about the wire pile on the floor, and you reached for the wooden teaspoon on your tray, and inched towards the box. Knowing wood doesn’t normally conduct electricity, you raised your hand, testing it anyway against the hanging wires to see if they were live. Seemingly not, you stuck your hand further in, and began nudging at the tool, slowly loosening the wires around it as you dragged it along the bottom of the box.

When they had deemed your silence as suspicious, the mechanic and Durham turned round, only to see you elbow deep in some very expensive equipment.

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” the mechanic cried as he rushed over. “The hell are you doin’??”

Instead of jerking your arm back out and apologising to the man who was slowly turning purple, you gave the screwdriver one last flick, and the three of you watched as it dropped over the edge and fell to the floor with a clatter. Moments of silence passed as you all stared at it, until you decided to explain.

“It was tangled in the wires, which would’ve prevented the electricity flow,” you said plainly. “Plus, if you had tried to power it all up, it could’ve set the place on fire.”

All the mechanic could do was stare down at the tool, but Mr Durham had decided to approach, and bent down to pick up the tool.

“Nice one.” He complimented, turning the object in his hands. Though the warm smile he had put on for you quickly vanished, as his eyes set upon the name engraved on the wooden handle. He pointed at it. “This has your name on it Marty.” He said lowly, his blue eyes turning dark as he regarded the paling man with a look of thunder.

Seeing the outcome, you gestured nervously to the beverages on the table. “Coffee’s there, Mr Durham, I’ll see you downstairs.”

Just as you walked around him, he called your name. “Take ten minutes to yourself and grab some tea, whilst I deal with Marty here.”

Nodding, you curtly took your leave, swinging the door open as you power-walked out, failing to see the sharp pair of eyes following you from where they were sat at the desk.

You found the break room housed several curiosities that you were yet to explore in America. Apart from the atrocious fact that the tea station lacked the Yorkshire brand, you found yourself poking at what they called a teabag. Yes, surprise, surprise, the Americans invented something tea related before England or even China did, but you had to admit it was rather useful in helping you not gag at the slimy tea leaves that sat at the bottom of most of your beloved brews.

With the table to your right, you leant your hip against it, your back against the door as you rather noisily mixed the spoon around your large mug, making sure the sugar was dissolved properly before you went to strain the teabag. Lifting it carefully out of the boiling water, you gingerly held your other hand out below it to catch any stray drips from hitting the floor, scanning the room in front of you for a bin that you could chuck it into.

What you foolishly had failed to do however, was hear the footsteps that grew in volume from behind, and you hadn’t realised anything until a very uncomfortable prickle hit the side of your neck, as a very unwanted presence loomed over you. Though, that didn’t last long, as the presence decided to deafen you instead.

“So YOU’RE the new assistant!”

A banshee screech raised from your throat, the teabag flying through the air and onto the floor by your feet as you basically jumped three feet up. Instinctively, however, you didn’t realise what was happening until one elbow flew upwards, slamming into the nose of the man behind you, the other flying round to collide with his ribs. Teaspoon armed in hand, you spun around to face your assailant, only to step on the soggy teabag that was still on the floor, and you cried out again as you slipped and slammed into a very firm chest. Eyes screwed shut, you felt the two of you fall, though quickly broken by the table behind you.

Relieved that you were no longer falling, you swiftly blinked your eyes open, your dark brown ones meeting a pair of equally matching brown. Moments passed as you took in the scene in front of you, and you realised you finally had a face to put to the lanky man from earlier.

Said man was groaning as he rubbed at his nose, his lips twisted into a grimace as he checked for blood. What you noticed however, was the several poignant glances the man took to your right, and you followed, only to see you hand raised, teaspoon in hand, pointing down at him as if you had a machete, ready to stab the lights out of him.

A small gasp left your throat at the realisation, and you quickly pushed yourself off, pointedly ignoring the grunt the man let out as you knocked at his ribs. Taking several steps back, you distanced yourself from him. He had gotten close before, he wasn’t about to do so again.

You watched as he pushed himself up on his elbows, using the table as a support as he stood. To a disturbingly tall height might you add. Looks like you did just reach his nose after all.

“I’m uh,” you started as you eyed him, teaspoon machete still in hand, strangely, you instinctively used the southern accent you learnt – it was the one you used with strangers. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you to sneak up on me like that.” Reaching over, you snatched up a napkin, offering it to him. “Y’haven’t got anything…?”

Dark eyes flitting between you and the outstretched napkin offering, you watched as something seemed to switch in his demeanour, and a natural smile fell across his tan face as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“No, no, don’t worry, it’s quite alright.” He assured, and you blinked at his prominent transatlantic accent. “I figured that wasn’t the best way to say hello to a stranger!” he laughed as he smoothed down his crumpled waistcoat. Reaching his lanky arm out whilst tucking the other behind him, he offered his hand out in greeting. “The name’s Alastor, my dear. And who do I have the most entertaining pleasure to be speaking to?”

You stared at his hand, then flicked your eyes up to him, scanning his grinning face with vigour.

Where, oh where, had you heard that voice before?

Your silence seemed to confuse this Alastor guy, however, and his eyes darted around in confusion as you continued to stare. From what you could see, he had come to a very wrong conclusion about your silence, and leaned over at you slightly, bringing his face level with yours.

“Cat got your tongue, my darling?” His growing cheshire grin reminding you of two very similar people. “You clearly must find me that dashing if your this speechless, haha!” he chortled, the condescension rolling off him in waves.

Oh, you knew exactly where this guy was from.

Narrowing your eyes, you scrutinised him as you quietly muttered out a single word.

“Boudreaux.”

Alastor blinked, eyes darting around your face, before raising a hand to cup at his ear. “I hate to say but I didn’t quite catch that!” he exclaimed rather loudly.

You felt your brows begin to furrow, so you raise your voice slightly. “I said, Boudreaux.”

Oh you did it now. Sparkles seemed to glitter behind his chocolate eyes as he perked up with glee, straightening up to his full height. “So you do know me after all! I was starting to think you simply had nothing going on in that head of yours!” he simpered as he tilted his head to look down at you.

Despite his clear mocking, you remained quiet for a moment longer, until you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“…You work in a radio station.” You stated flatly.

Alastor looked around, acting as if he had just realised as such. “Yes I am quite aware!” he affirmed in an obvious tone. “Did you want an award for that observation?”

You had to refrain from gaping at this man’s audacity. “… Couldn’t you have just fixed it yourself?”

The man blinked at you. “Fixed what now?”

Oh, this was it. Stepping forward, you didn’t stop until you face was a hand-lengths away from his, and you watched with satisfaction as he shifted at your invasion of his space – talk about a hypocrite as someone who clearly loved to invade the space of others. Staring at the man dead in the eye, you fully dropped the southern accent, your Yorkshire one coming back through full force.

“Your mum’s radio.” You stated simply, raising your brows to regard him with a condescending look that matched his.

You had expected him to brush it off, laughing when he realised who you were. What you hadn’t expected for his pupils to blow wide, his eyes darkening as they narrowed, scrutinising your gaze with his own, and you suddenly felt a little uneasy.

“Oh,” he said lowly. “It’s you.”

Keeping your gaze levelled, you gripped the spoon harder in your hands. That is, until your name was called.

The two of you straightened up, you leaning to look around Alastor as he spun on the spot, the both of you facing Mr Durham, who was looking between the two of you rather nervously. He called your name again.

“C’mon.” he said, refusing to take his eyes off Alastor. “Let’s go over those papers you brought.”

Without a second thought, you darted for your mug of tea, grabbing it along with an almost empty bottle of milk to put in it as you strode around Alastor, feeling the hand of your boss as he put his arm around your shoulder as he quickly led you away, and the back of your head prickled, definitely feeling the sharp eyes on your retreating back this time around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ALASTOR'S HERE RAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Watch me disappear from the face of the earth for a week cuz of my executive dysfunction lmao (Blame my adhd not me she's a seperate entity at this point.)

I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, see you soon for Chapter 5!!

Please let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

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#are you proud that i'm bringing on the grind for everything except my uni work?#they gave me 5 assignments again :/#also having a crisis that high school musical is turning 20 in the next two years #making me feel ancient #but not as ancient as lucifer #he's giving prehistoric #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor x you #alastor x oc

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missys-mansion-of-mistakes · 7 months ago

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September 10th, 2024. Tuesday.

What I accomplished today:

5 meetings attended (coach meeting, dr's appt, dr's appt, SMART recovery, team meeting for my research assistantship job)

2 Slowly letters written

3 scholarships drafted and submitted

Total time studied: 10 hours, 6am -> 4pm

🦊 A kind've bad day. The meetings all day really threw me off. Especially the doctor's appointment where they accidentally sent me to the wrong clinic, so I had to drive to another clinic 30 mins away, then they turned me away there because it was too late. Despite the receptionist calling to say I'd be late. So that really threw me off my groove.

🍉 Otherwise, survived the day. Happy I got those scholarship applications done at least. I've been really dreading those lately, so it was a nice change of pace that I was able to get them done!

[Photos: my desk setup, a postcard from @chibird's etsy]

#studyblr #my journal #academia #my photos #missys mistakes #scholarships #study blog #study motivation #studyspo #study aesthetic #studying #student life #student #university #academics #college

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salty-dracon · 6 months ago

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POV: You're a tired college student sitting in the lecture hall before Reca's class in 2.6

(written entirely based on the 2.6 trailer)

(update: I have never written anything so inaccurate in my life I wanna curl up into a ball orz )

You're attending Penacony's Paperfold University College. It's the middle of the night (it's Golden Hour, Penacony, it's always the middle of the night, good luck waking up on time for your classes LMAO) with a professor your film major buddies have only described as "passionate" and one outwardly finds super weird. You looked him up on the universe's equivalent of RateMyProfessor and he's sitting at 3.5 out of 5 stars because no one can live up to his exacting standards and also he's apparently a little crazy? Like you've had sadistic professors who loved failing their students, but you'd think they would mention that in the reviews. So who knows what that means. Hopefully nothing bad.

Anyway this is just a one-time seminar for fun so you're thankful, but the art building sucks. You're sitting in the coldest, draftiest lecture hall you've ever seen. You can hear the radiator hissing. The desks are so scratched and cut-up they look like they might give you splinters. For how many years have these desks existed? How many generations of animators and film people have been taking notes on this thing? Is this what all film majors have to suffer through? Hell, is this what all art majors have to suffer through? Thank goodness you're... not that.

And there's a chalkboard. If there's one thing you don't need when you're this exhausted, it's the sound of chalk squeaking on a chalkboard.

And while you're watching the seconds tick by, in walks a trio of people your age. and you're looking at them and you're like, none of them have ever been to a college before. (Probably offworlders.)

Like there's this guy with black hair who's just super quiet (way too quiet, and way too serious) but when's the last time you saw a college student carrying around a fresh case bound notebook that doesn't look like it was bought at the mall? Those things get destroyed if you carry them around in your bookbag for too long- you figured that out your first week. He looks way too ready to take notes amidst the background noise. He's writing the planet name, system date, and "Seminar with the film director Mr. Reca" at the top of that expensive looking notebook's second page. And the ink isn't feathering or bleeding through the page. Your animation friend would probably be obsessed with that paper, she keeps going on about how important good paper is, but you can't afford the stuff. Maybe you should ask him the brand later.

And he's being talked at by a pair of chatterboxes. One of them is, once again, way too well-dressed to be a habitual college student. She did her clothes up in blue, pink, and white to match her hair and eyes. It's pretty cute, all things considered- you wish you still had the energy to dress up like that at 6am. Maybe you should ask her for fashion advice. The pitch of her voice rises above the din of the room. "Ooooooh, I can't wait! This is going to be so cool! A seminar by a real film director! It's a shame Mr. Yang couldn't attend. He'd love this kind of stuff!".

The second chatterbox is this snarky looking person you can't really get a read on. They didn't even bring a notebook. They outright state they've never been to a college before. And now they're going on and on, trying to compare this lecture hall to buildings on planets you've never really heard of. "A museum on the cold, frosty planet Jarilo-IV"- your mind wanders for a moment as you consider what that would be like. Still, something about them seems to signal that they're a singularity of experience. They've probably seen more in a system year than you have in your entire lifetime. That might be why they keep speaking in words you don't understand. What's a 'surprised Pikachu face'? Must be one of those jokes that only makes sense if you were there to witness it.

Yeah, this strange-looking friend group is probably from off world. And they're probably adventurers at that. They probably don't want to be bothered with the ramblings of a tired college student.

The door opens. You hear leather boots on a wood floor, and the room quiets with the weight of a man's presence. He's finally here.

You sure hope everything goes smoothly. Getting stuck in the Oak Family's dream ruined your weekend that one time, but that was a long time ago. Seriously, what's the worst that could happen? The professor traps the room in some kind of film reel dimension and a horde of monkeys attacks the campus? ... Nah, that would never happen.

#when i first saw the lecture hall i had a crazy flashback to my college years. the 8pm lectures in cold drafty rooms with chalkboards #and boom. fanfiction written entirely based on the 2.6 trailer. this will go up long before 2.6 is actually out.#pro tips from a former college student: don't overspend on notebooks and always bring at least 1 formal outfit to the dorm #you'll be a fantastic [career] someday y/n! as long as you survive The Combination Film Reel Dimension and Bananamageddon #honkai star rail fanfiction #hsr mr reca #hsr trailblazer #hsr caelus #hsr stelle #hsr dan heng #hsr march 7th #hsr 2.6 #posting this now before 2.6 comes out and i have to rewrite all of it O_O

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suddencolds · 1 year ago

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Purely Instinctive | Ki//ller Pet//er

Extremely competent assassin who handles every difficult situation inventively and with ease? What if he fell ill... 😭 (4.2k words)

This is a little different from what I usually write, but I've been reading Ki//ller Pe//ter on Webt//oon (link), and... um, this fic practically wrote itself. This might be the most self-indulgent thing I've written this year. Let's not talk about it 😭

For the sake of the fic, all characters are in their early twenties (aside from Peter, who is obviously a lot older). If you haven't read the series, they're all assassins who work for an organization called the Gl//ory Club. That's pretty much all you need to know :)

—

Here's Peter (under his current identity, Sun-Gu Kim) and Yuna:

—

The drive to the warehouse is unusually quiet.

The mission is simple—find an international spy, currently en route to escape via a ship which departs from the harbor at 6am, holding onto highly classified documents which he’s not supposed to have. The moment he steps foot off of Korean land, he will become much more difficult to apprehend—the ship the target is planning to take is a large cargo ship, its whereabouts easily tracked, but the Glory Club bounty has specified that the target will most likely part ways from the cargo ship on a small rowboat. There’s no telling at what point he’ll split off from the cargo ship, or where he’ll be headed next, which means:

They have only two hours to apprehend the subject before he becomes substantially harder to track down.

Yuna reaches up with a hand to rub her eyes. Of course, serving as part of Glory is no 9-5 job—she hadn’t expected volunteer missions to always take place at predictable times. But they’d gotten assigned to this particular mission on short notice, which meant that she’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep, tops, before having to drag herself out of bed for this.

They’d been whisked out on Sun-Gu’s motorcycle—the St. Petrus V4, she recalls. Somehow, Sun-Gu had known exactly where to head. How he’d known, with the entire city laid out in front of him, Yuna isn’t entirely sure. But he’d explained that the target’s trajectory would probably not be a straight line to the harbor—that would be too easy to intercept, and Sun-Gu had assured the target would be aware there would be someone on his trail. He’d probably avoid main roads, then, where there would be a higher chance of getting stopped by the police. Then, out of all the remaining routes from his last tracked location, it would only be feasible to get to the dock on time through six of them.

The rest had been intuition. Sun-Gu’s familiarity with the city is impressive. He barely glances at the street signs as he drives, the night warm and stagnant, his motorcycle dialed to silent, and not for the first time, Yuna wonders how he seems to know all of this.

Speaking of Sun-Gu—

Something is different about him tonight. Yuna probably would not have noticed, had she not spent the entirety of the motorcycle ride sitting behind him. He’s incredibly subtle about it. But it’s there, nonetheless—a slight change to his demeanor. Something nearly imperceptible, something she can’t quite pin down.

Had Yuna not known better, she might have attributed it to tiredness. But in the couple months she’s known Sun-Gu, she’s never seen him tired. He sleeps, like the rest of them, of course—he is only human—but for him, the transition between sleep and wakefulness seems like more of a formality. That is to say, he wakes up immediately alert, and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him tired.

It makes her wonder, a little, if there’s a reason to it. If there was ever anything in his life which mandated being a light sleeper, that required him to be up at a moment’s notice. Either way, it’s not the reason why he’s—off isn’t the right word. Different is more suitable. Typically, he’s in better spirits. But Yuna has seen him pissed off, and this isn’t it, either.

Sun-Gu parks the motorcycle just outside of the warehouse, unclips his helmet in one swift motion, and—after Yuna gets off—takes her helmet from her and stashes them both under the motorcycle seat, which Glory has designed to be self-locking. Then, without waiting to see if they’ll follow, he makes a lap around the periphery of the warehouse.

The Dokgo brothers have tagged along too—they’re being quiet, now, which perhaps is mercy enough. Probably Sun-Gu had given them a challenge to shut up, and they’ve taken it in good faith. Now, even when they have something to comment, they keep their voices to a whisper.

“What do you think he’s off doing?” Biggie says.

Junior shrugs. “Maybe taking a walk, to relieve some stress.”

“He’s looking for signs of entry,” Yuna tells them. Then, because she can’t help it, and because she’ll be a little pissed off if they’re the ones who end up jeopardizing the mission—“Remember what he said about being quiet?”

“Ah, shit,” Biggie says. “I am quiet. Maybe you should be quiet. Have you considered that?”

She ignores the both of them and heads over to the spot where Sun-Gu stands, now, his eyebrows furrowed. A slat that’s out of place. He pushes it, and it budges.

Underground, the ground rumbles underneath them, and then settles to reveal a trap door.

Sun-Gu beckons for them to follow him, but he doesn’t wait up for them. Yuna quickens her pace to keep up. The trap door leads them down, down. The air underground is much cooler—Yuna finds herself wishing that she’d brought a thicker jacket.

Ahead of her, Sun-Gu—

Takes in a sharp breath. But no, it’s not just a breath. As she watches him, he lifts a hand, pinches it to the bridge of his nose. His shoulders jerk forward, though only slightly; his back muscles tense. All in all, the entire display is soundless.

Yuna’s feels her eyebrows creep up.

This is certainly… new for him. But she doesn’t have time to think on it right now.

When they get to the bottom of the steps, the stairway opens out into a deserted hallway: cement walls, cement floors. It’s dark, and cavernous. This whole place feels empty. It’s a little creepy, really. Why Sun-Gu suspects that their target is hiding out here, Yuna isn’t sure. It seems counterproductive to hide out somewhere like this when, according to their intel, the subject has limited time already to make it out to the harbor.

That is, unless Sun-Gu suspects the intel that they were given might be wrong.

Sun-Gu switches on a flashlight he’s carrying and heads deeper in. It’s not until he stops, looking down the hallway to survey his surroundings that he hesitates, only for a moment. He lifts the collar of his shirt over his face, his shoulders tensing.

“Hh’—nKTtt-!”

The sneeze is practically soundless. That makes two times in one night. Something is definitely up, then. Yuna looks around. Perhaps the underground space is dusty, or perhaps it’s not well-ventilated and it’s grown mold, and he’s allergic. Except, the air down here feels remarkably dry—not the sort of environment mold would thrive under—and the floors look suspiciously well-maintained. It wouldn’t make sense for it to be something else, either—some other universal irritant. Sun-Gu is the only one here who’s sneezing.

Yuna isn’t sure she’s ever heard him sneeze before, out of the months that she’s known him. Could it be some existing condition, then—not a product of their environment, but something from earlier?

“Man,” Junior mouths, from somewhere. “How much longer are we going to have to head down these hallways? They all look the same.”

Yuna turns to glare at him, puts her finger to her lips. “Longer if you aren’t quiet about it.”

“I don’t like this,” Biggie mutters. “When can we get to the fighting? All the lead-up is boring. It feels like we’re in some kind of horror movie.” Yuna squeezes her eyes shut, prays that they’re far enough from Sun-Gu—and, by extension, the target—that they can’t be heard.

Sun-Gu stops, abruptly. He holds a hand up behind him, as if to say, stay back.

Yuna doesn’t know what he’s noticed, at first. But a moment later, she hears it—the click of a latch being undone, somewhere overhead.

Above them, a small trap door opens, and then pulls shut. A cylinder drops from the ceiling, leeching violet plumes of smoke. On instinct, Yuna pulls her shirt up to cover her nose and mouth.

Tear gas, she realizes—or something chemically similar. It’s some sort of aerosolized compound, meant to render them both less capable of seeing and—partly by extension—less capable of fighting. Her eyes tear up almost immediately, so much that she can barely keep them open. Her lungs burn in protest as she takes in a breath.

They’re in a long corridor. There’s a finite amount of smoke coming from the canister—if they wait it out, it will inevitably thin out. So this was more just a distraction, then. A flashy entry. Just enough time for whoever they’re up against to—

It takes her a few seconds to spot the figure through the smoke.

She thinks back to the files on the subject. Medium, reddish brown hair, pale blue eyes. 182 cm. Trained in combat. The stranger in the hallway has their face obscured by a gas mask, their hair hidden under a hood, but she can tell by the musculature of their exposed arms that they appear to be well-trained. In their right hand, they are carrying a long, slender weapon. From one end—attached to a metal chain—is a sphere, lined with spikes, each of them carved down to a sharp point.

It must weigh half a ton, from the way it drags the chain down, but the figure wields it easily, as if it weighs absolutely nothing.

“That’s our guy!” Junior yells, at the same time as Biggie shouts, “Stop right there!”

Both of them charge forwards. It all happens in a split second. The figure adjusts their grip on the weapon to turn the wooden handle of it outwards. Then, before either of the brothers have a chance to react, they’re swung outwards by the sheer momentum of the rod. Biggie hits the ceiling with enough force that the concrete above them rumbles, the impact spiderwebbing the ceiling above them. Slabs of concrete rain down from the point of contact. The figure drives Junior straight into one of the walls at an awkward angle which renders him almost immediately unconscious.

Yuna can feel her own heart pounding in her ears. She slinks back into the darkness, pressing herself to the ground so that hopefully, the stranger will forget that she is there—or that she is even a threat to begin with. Seeing what they’re capable of, she isn’t sure she could do much in this situation to begin with.

How long has it been since the last time the path split off into multiple routes? When Yuna turns to look, the hallway before them and after them seems to stretch on and on. An endless concrete tunnel, with the white, sterile lighting of a laboratory space. Nothing to shield themselves with, and nowhere to hide. It’s a strange location to pick a fight in. What exactly was this place built for?

“I’ve been waiting for you,” the figure says to Sun-Gu, grinning. Half of their teeth have been replaced with gold tooth crowns. When they grin, the gold catches the light, winking. “Thirty seconds, huh? Your teammates couldn’t even hold their own for that long? It’s a damn shame. I didn’t even get to use the weapon as it’s intended to be used.” They tilt their head, staring down at Sun-Gu with a look of contempt. “I guess you could thank me for being merciful. But if I’m honest…”

Their smile darkens into something sharper, something hungry. “I just didn’t want to stain a flail of this quality with anyone’s blood but yours.”

Was this entire mission a setup, to get Sun-Gu into one place? Is the subject really in possession of any classified documents at all?

Sun-Gu twists away—not to evade, or not in preparation to attack. His shoulders hunch forward, his expression twisting. He coughs, roughly, down towards the ground. It’s the kind of cough that suggests that he’s been coughing like this for some time now—harsh and throat-scraping.

That’s when it registers for Yuna.

He’s ill. It seems painfully obvious, in hindsight, now that she’s realized it.

During the motorcycle ride here, he’d been careful not to touch her, Yuna realizes. Sun-Gu is always careful with his own space—he has an awareness of it, even outside of combat, that she thinks would be unusual for most. Even with small things—the ways he gestures, the way he holds himself—she gets the feeling that none of it is accidental.

When she looks at him now, she notices—a slight, near-imperceptible flush to his features. He’s breathing a little more heavily than normal. Instincts he can hide. Instincts he can cover for. But there are some things which no amount of physical awareness can hide.

He has a fever, then. That’s probably why he hadn’t wanted her to touch him. He’d known that if she’d made contact with his skin, she would’ve felt it, and she thinks he probably hadn’t wanted to raise any concern.

Sun-Gu is here, on a mission, fighting a well-trained stranger on his own, equipped with nothing but a pocket knife, with no armor and no with no reinforcements. On any normal occasion, Yuna might trust him to be able to hold his own—she’s seen what he’s done, alone against a crowd of hundreds—but this time, it’s different, because Sun-Gu is unwell.

The figure looks surprised, at this. “Ah,” they say. Yuna can’t help but think they look like a predator, honing in on their prey, only to find that said prey is already bloodied and limping. Like someone surprised—but pleased—to find their job already done for them. “Don’t tell me you’re already not in tip-top shape? That’s a shame.”

Sun-Gu coughs, again, his chest shaking. Yuna feels a pang of worry in her chest. He really does look unwell—and he hasn’t said as much of a word to deny it, which is telling. She looks around for anything to help him with— If she were to call for reinforcements, she thinks it would take too long for them to find them all here, underground, in the elaborate array of tunnels.

The weapon they’re holding is heavy, which affects its maneuverability, and to some degree, its speed. But Sun-Gu’s knife is much more of a close-range weapon, which means that while Sun-Gu will have to get up close to them to even make a mark, the stranger would be theoretically able to fatally wound him while standing a meter away.

The figure presses forward. With the swing of one hand, the metal ball and the chain arc outwards neatly, directly towards Sun-Gu. For such a heavy weapon, Yuna is surprised to find that this person wields it with impressive speed. It’s nearly too fast for her eyes to track. Sun-Gu evades, easily, but the figure swings again, and again, and again. At this speed, it almost looks as though they’re slicing the air into shreds.

If Sun-Gu were to be hit, his body would stop all of the momentum at once, and the spikes would easily puncture skin, drive themselves into tissue and skin and bone. Worse, Yuna realizes, if the weapon makes it to Sun-Gu’s body—even if it’s lodged in a relatively nonfatal area—the figure will easily be able to drive it directly into a vital organ. That means that if Sun-Gu fails to dodge cleanly on just one occasion, this fight will be over.

That’s another thing, too. Sun-Gu’s radius of attack is limited by the length of his own arm. But the figure can stand in one place and swing the weapon anywhere that the length of their arm, the long rod, the chain, all put together, can reach.

“If I had a little more patience, I might even have waited for you to get back to full health, so that this could be a more memorable fight,” the figure says.

Sun-Gu’s breath hitches. His opponent is not kind enough to pretend not to notice. They drive forward, intending to use the moment of temporary weakness to their benefit, just as Sun-Gu jerks forward with a forceful, “hHh’EEZschHH-uH!”

Sun-Gu evades, but only barely. How he is able to predict the trajectory of the metal ball, even distracted, even with his eyes closed, Yuna isn’t sure. But it’s clear that he isn’t done, and by the time his eyes are already falling shut for another. He’s afforded a sharp, desperate breath, before his shoulders jerk forward again. “hH’nGKt-! Hh… hh-IIIH’DZSshH!”

He coughs, after, as if the sneezes have somehow irritated his throat further.

The stranger grins. “...But I suppose having your head as a prize would be consolation enough.”

They sweep the chain in a wide arc, directly for Sun-Gu’s neck. Sun-Gu crouches for a moment, then takes a running leap up into the air, righting his trajectory with one foot to the wall to land behind them. He’s put his knife away, Yuna realizes. But there is nothing here—no props, no furniture—for him to repurpose into a weapon.

“Sorry,” Sun-Gu says. The expression on his face is not one of remorse. It’s one of clear, bitter irritation. He’s annoyed, she realizes. “You’re right. I’m not feeling my best today.”

It’s an admission, loud and clear, but the way he says it, it doesn’t sound like an admission of weakness. Up until now, he has been observing, Yuna realizes, as he’s done before—passively taking in the stranger’s fighting style, their handling of their weapon, their habits, their tells.

“So,” Sun-Gu says, flatly. When the stranger swings again, Sun-Gu snags hold of the chain while it’s in mid-air, and—as if it’s weightless—yanks the stranger towards him. He takes hold of the chain with his other hand, testing its weight. The smile on his face is utterly cold. “Let’s get this over with quickly.”

—

Afterwards, when they leave the warehouse, the sun is starting to rise. Yuna finds a text from Glory Club on her phone from an hour ago, presumably from the chairman. It’s curt: Do not proceed. We have reason to doubt the motives of the group which supplied the intel. Ironically, there was not enough reception underground for their warning to reach them in time, but she thinks that Sun-Gu must’ve realized much earlier.

Biggie and Junior are a little worse for the wear, but other than that, neither of them is concerningly injured. Biggie claims that he doesn’t have a concussion, but he doesn’t put up too much of a fight when Yuna insists that when they get back, their first stop will be to the medical ward to get fixed up.

Speaking of Sun-Gu: he is quiet, which is not unusual. Sun-Gu has never been the most talkative person, but Yuna suspects that today, there’s more to it.

“I can take us back,” Yuna says, trying not to make it sound pointed. It’s usually Sun-Gu who steers, but Yuna has enough experience with the St. Petrus V4 to handle a forty minute trip on paved roads, and enough experience too to know how to speed just enough to stay in control of it.

“It’s fine,” Sun-Gu says, flashing her a distracted smile. “It will be faster if I drive, because I won’t have to navigate.” He retrieves his own helmet from the seat compartment. Yuna spends a moment to watch him. He isn’t injured, nor does he look any less alert—he’d gotten out of the battle without so much as a scratch to show for.

But there are little hints, here and there, to exhaustion. The way he clears his throat before speaking, so quietly she can’t tell except for the slight bob of his throat, the slight furrow of his eyebrows. The way he pauses to clip his helmet, shielding his face with one hand from the gleam of the rising sun, as if his head is already hurting. The way he looks relieved to be sitting down, the way his hand lingers, a little shaky, on the motorcycle handles before he steadies it, looking faintly annoyed.

Of course, for someone like Sun-Gu, where—on the battlefield—any sort of slight miscalculation could be the difference between life and death, where trusting his body to function exactly as he’s used to is crucial for his success, Yuna isn’t surprised that any sort of bodily inefficiency would be an annoyance, even more so for Sun-Gu than for most.

At the same time, as she stares at him, she has to wonder—just how long has he been unwell? Had she not been awake during the battle—had she been unconscious, then, like the other two—would she even have noticed? How many times in his life has he been ill and just proceeded? Yuna doesn’t know what his relationship to Peter is—whether he’s a long lost cousin, or someone who trained under him before, or something else. But she knows, from the way he fights, that he must’ve had years of combat experience even before he joined Glory. No one is born with that amount of expertise, that level of near-inhuman intuition.

In the past, when Sun-Gu found himself in life-or-death situations, had he proceeded like he is now—as though everything were normal? As though any affliction he was suffering through privately was not even worth the attention of his own team? It makes sense, she thinks—that he wouldn’t broadcast any weakness openly, especially for any potential adversaries to listen in on. But if he’d been so careful to hide it from all of them, how would he take it if she acknowledged it out loud?

“Is something wrong?” Sun-Gu asks, watching her now.

“No, nothing at all!” Yuna says, quickly. Think, she tells herself. She returns his smile, a little sheepishly. “I was just thinking… I’m a little hungry. Do you think we could stop at a convenience store on the way back?”

Sun-Gu blinks, a little surprised. But then he nods. “Of course,” he says.

She fiddles with her own helmet until it’s securely on. Then she gets onto the motorcycle, behind him, and waits for him to take off.

—

True to his word, Sun-Gu stops at a 24/7 convenience store on the way back. But when Yuna asks him if he wants anything to eat, he waves her off with another smile. “Not enough time has passed after that fight,” he says. “I’m still too worked up to eat something.”

Bullshit, she thinks, but she steps inside the store nonetheless. Inside, it’s heavily air-conditioned, pleasantly cool. She picks out a sandwich from the fridge for herself, and one for Sun-Gu, while Biggie and Dokgo—who have followed them here on their scooters—load up on containers of cup ramen and ready-made hot fried chicken. Yuna snags a bottle of water from the fridge. Then she’s sure no one is looking, she takes a blister pack of aspirin off the shelves, along with a travel pack of tissues, and pays for it through the self-checkout station.

Biggie and Junior are still inside by the time she’s done shopping, so she heads outside, the plastic bag in hand.

She finds him still seated on the motorcycle, his helmet still on. He’s sitting ramrod-straight, his shoulders stiff, his head ducked slightly to avoid the sun. To anyone else, he might look alert—perhaps even nervous—but Yuna knows better. It looks as if he is doing everything in his power not to fall asleep.

His breath hitches. He gasps, his body jerking forward with a loud, “hHHD’TSHhh-Uh!”, which seems ridiculously unrelieving for how loud it is, and sighs, tenderly massaging the bridge of his temples. So the headache from earlier hasn’t gotten any better, then.

She watches him for a moment longer—watches him duck forward into his arm with another ticklish sneeze, and emerge with a liquid sniffle—and wonders when this had all started to feel like second nature.

Caring about him, that is.

When he hears her coming, he looks up to her. “Done with breakfast already?”

“Not yet,” she says. “But I got you a sandwich.

“Ah, thanks,” he says. “Though, didn’t I say—”

“You’re not hungry right now, I recall,” Yuna says. “You can save it for later. But I have something else for you too.”

She hands him the aspirin and the bottle of water. Sun-Gu stares down at them for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I am not injured,” he says, at last.

“I know,” Yuna says, casually. “The aspirin is for your headache. That’s been bothering you all morning, right? It might help with your fever, too, but I think the best antidote for that would be some proper bedrest.”

For a moment, Sun-Gu just stares at her, his eyes a little wide. Then he laughs. “You really don’t let anything past you, do you, Yuna?”

“That’s right,” she says, crossing her arms. “So you were trying to hide it.”

“Not exactly,” Sun-Gu says. “I just didn’t deem it worth mentioning.”

“Three to five days of bedrest, and lots of warm fluids!” Yuna says, jabbing a finger into his chest, accusingly. “That’s what people recommend for illnesses like this. Not a killer mission first thing in the morning!”

“You are very prudent,” Sun-Gu says, looking mildly amused.

“You don’t think it might’ve helped to mention your illness to someone you trust? The chairman, or even me?”

“I fail to see how that would’ve made any difference. It’s not as though the mission could have waited.”

“Fine, then.” Yuna says. “You might not agree to take it easy. But I’ll keep noticing as long as you keep being irresponsible.” She means it as a threat—that in the future, if he ever dares to be so reckless, she’ll be the first to notice. And if Yuna thinks he should be resting, instead of on a mission, she’s not going to keep her mouth shut about it.

But when she looks over at Sun-Gu, he is smiling.

#sneeze kink #snz kink #sneeze fic #sneezefic #snzfic #this was really fun to write 😭😭 though writing the action was certainly an experience #i love yu//na so much... half the fun was writing everything from her perspective and thinking abt what she might notice and how #this fic is influenced a lot by y//una and pet//er's dynamic in ep14; specifically his acknowledgment of her perceptiveness and #the covert act of kindness he shows her at the end #i am kind of scared this fic might only appeal to me because people aren't familiar w the fandom 😭 i was actually not intending to #write anything initially for that very reason. but then my d took the wheel #but this was a good break from my more serious writing (yvverse) and a fun character study in general; life has been really rough this week #and so it was nice to have an outlet #my fic

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dollsonmain · 8 months ago

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Ok, so I work tomorrow at lunch time, then I start training all over again for opening and am to be there at 6am 5-days a week next week. Don't know how long the shift will be, though. Either way that kind of sucks because it's too late to have That Guy drop me off and if I'm getting off work 4 hours later, it's way too early for him to pick me up, too, meaning I'm going to be walking to and from work. I tried to get some better work shoes but Walmart didn't have any in my size. there's not room for insoles in the shoes I have, so I'm kind of stuck with the ouch shoes for a while, yet. I can run to Kohl's or something on the weekend and get some walking shoes maybe. Should be better than what I have, anyway.

I don't get mad easily but Son pissed me off. I got a call from school asking me why he already has 5 unexcused absences.

He's been at school every day and is obsessed with getting perfect attendance.

He hasn't been answering when roll is called.

Now I have to call the school and be like "No, he's there. You can verify that with the bus driver and all of his teachers throughout the day, especially Theater Teacher. You must need reminding that he's autistic and non-compliance is written into his IEP. Again. Like every year." but honestly, I don't expect them to adjust his attendance and he's going to have to deal with it.

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savethegrishaverse · 11 months ago

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For our next twitter party, we want to celebrate our #FandomWithAFuture! We've come a long way since the books were written, since the show debuted, and since it was cancelled; but, we still have so much more to achieve! Our fandom has only just gotten started! Come prepared with your best tweets, questions, comments, gifs, memes, and more. Let's make some noise! 🗣️

#SaveShadowAndBone and #SixOfCrowsSpinoff TWEETING PARTY 5/31 at 12PM! Come check it out here!

Remember to:

Only use three hashtags.

Enjoy and be engaging with your tweets! Keep sharing! Timezones under read more.

If you cannot attend, you can always schedule tweets ahead of time on desktop in order to help out still!

ALL TIMEZONES: Friday, May 31: 9am PST 10am MST 11am CST 12pm EST 2pm -03 5pm GMT 6pm CET 8pm MSK 9pm +04 10:30pm IST

Saturday, Jun 1: 1am CST 2am JST 4am AEST 6am NZST

#saveshadowandbone #six of crows #grishaverse #shadow and bone #netflix shadow and bone #netflix #sab #soc #six of crows fandom #soc and ck #six of crows spin off #six of crows spinoff #sixofcrowsspinoff #no mourners no funerals #emmy nominated #save the grishaverse #fandom with a future #third army

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takofukkatsumi · 19 hours ago

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1. Be me

2. Play (watch bf play) a game

3. Show bestie some screenshots

4. Tell bestie about characters

5. ?????

6. Wake up to a 2k words of John x Sam fic written in your DMs at *checks timestamp* 6am

@sirshio, you completely insane bastard, I love you

#HOW. HOW DID YOU GET YOURSELF AN OTP IN THE FANDOM YOU ONLY KNOW FROM SCREENSHOTS SNIPPETS AND MY WORDS. I LOVE YOU #to be fair we did spend yesterday headcanoning some character moments BUT A WHOLE ASS FIC???#I will forever be grateful to have such a madman by my side #and also for the fact that at least it's jam and not jadder because that would've made me question my own sanity too #kingdom come deliverance #okay those tags need clarification: it's OUR otp okay

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foxes-that-run · 1 year ago

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2019 Haylor Timeline

Timeline Tag, Back to 2018

1 January - Taylors New Years Eve costume party she dresses as Ariel

3 January - MH asks to produce Harry's next album... via twitter.... and says Harry has blocked him.

6 January - Taylor in LA at Golden Globes afterparty

9 January - Harry still in Japan

Miss Americana filmed between Rep tour and Lover, released in 2020.

16 January - Kiko Mizuhara says she has never met Harry, then

2 February - Kiko at Harry's birthday party they may or may not have dated.

18 January - Taylor seen at recording studio in NYC (suggested Me!, but I think that's too late, it was released as a single in April)

26 January - Harry still in Japan

1 February - Harry's 25th Birthday “I had a very Murakami birthday because I ended up staying in Tokyo on my own. I had grilled fish and miso soup for breakfast, then I went to this cafe. I sat and drank tea and read for five hours.” (Harry Styles on his 25th birthday, Rolling Stone 2019)

10 February - Joe and Taylor go to Harry's local, the Spaniards Inn Hampstead Heath ...... Harry was in LA on the 12th. Seen walking in Paris in March and not again for 7 months.

12 February - Joe and Taylor attend the BAFTAS Taylor is photographed having dinner with Liam Payne

5 March - Taylor things before 30 article, includes that Andrea is again in treatment

14 March - Harry arriving at gym in London

28 March - Harry JFK airport, then hotel in NY

29 March - Harry and Xander dinner Ny

5 April - Harry in LOndon

23 April - Taylor plays Time 100 show setlist is Style, Delicate, Love Story, NYD and Shake it off

26 April Me! Video released, just before April 29 anniversary... Joe not seen with Taylor till October.

2 May - Taylor Zane Lowe Me! Interview

3 May - Harry in LA

5 May - Harry Anna Wintour's apartment, pre-met Gala dinner

7 May - Harry hosts his only met gala attendance, Taylor’s doesn’t go anymore. Adore you and Lights up written in May. Harry and Kendall have after party and both leave at 6am and both stayed at the Bowery hotel. Jeff and Xander also there.

May - 6 July Joe filming A Christmas Carol in Hampstead Heath and stays in London after. Taylor in US, billboard awards, Lover media

15 May Harry was in the studio, Harry writes Adore You, Lights up, Treat People with Kindness, starts Boyfriends.

18 May - Harry driving a bright yellow vintage ferrari in Malibu, you can practically hear golden in that photo.

20 May (Haylor anniversary #1), still in studio, Harry wears a white horses shirt and fearless gold shorts on the beach in Malibu. While Horse is a Fearless song he also references in the Daylight video. Fine Line then complete

21 May - Gucci Swan Campaign released

24 May - Taylor in Paris with Joe, she recreates scenes from Begin Again which are later in the TV version of Taylor Swift Live in the City of Lover, except the concert was filmed months later when Joe was not there.

3, 6 June - Harry in London,

9 June - Blind that Taylor & Joe double date was PR setup

30 June Big Machine Records sold with Taylor’s masters.

2-6 July - Taylor in Virgin Isles with her mum, Ashley and the Haim sisters, Joe still filming UK.

10 July Taylor Performs at Amazon Prime event in NYC, points at a figure in Delicate thought to be Joe.

15-17 June - Harry visits Xander in Philly, airport photos

18 July - Harry sells LA house at a loss after 2 years on market

20 July - Taylor in NYC

29 July - Harry in NYC for Rolling Stone shoot in Hawaiian shirt (the eternal sunshine of Harry styles story with Rob Sheffield)

1 August - Gucci fragrance campaign where Harry plays with a ring and leans his head on a blonde lady with a cat masks shoulder. This mask is vintage, there is a Tiktok of the guy who owns it. Taylor wore a similar mask in the LAWYMMD video and was filming cats. We don't know who's in the mask, Harris Reed is on the set and I wonder if it is her.

4 August - Harry shot Lights Up music video in Mexico

6 August - Harry in philli

19 August - stories that KK falling out was she threw a party in Taylor’s NY house

23 August - Lover released. Lover Video released with quite clear Haylor references. Taylor says relationship not up for discussion. in NYC Taylor poses next to a photo of One Direction backstage at a signing in Brooklyn New York.

29 August - Taylor films BBC Live Lounge in NY with emotional performance of London Boy, Lover, The Archer, I can’t stop loving you (Phil Collin’s), Holy Ground and YNTCD. Holy Ground and ICSlY are particularly emotional and Taylor talks about loving someone even if they don’t love you back and that she chose Holy Ground because it refers to NY.

2 September - Harry in London, then disappears for 10 days. Gucci Fragrance Campaign where Harry wore the Haylor Ring.

7 September - both at Ed Sheeran's wedding in a big top. Joe maybe there - Niall followed Joe 8 Sept; Joe back 21 Sept

9 September - Taylor records City of Lover in Paris. Live setlist #7 was DBAC and #13 was Style, also played Love Story, Delicate, ATW, Red, Style and Shake it Off. Joe in Toronto.

11 September - Blind that Joe wasn't able to talk about Taylor, about stilted showing at Favorite premiere

12 September - Harry seen in London and MIA till LAX on 17th

14 September - Joe and Taylor Rhode Island and fly to London

17 September - Harry private club Hollywood

24 September - Harry seen with Xander in LA

26 September - Harry Miami with Xander

28 September - Harry leaves Miami with Gucci Mickey Mouse suitcase.

29 September - Harry in London gallery with Georgia Ritz and her BF (Xander’s sister)

4 October - Harry seen with fans in London. Matty Healy says he wants to produce Taylors record (said about Harry earlier the year) and went on to say 'that taylor swift song about supporting gay people, when it came out we already knew that."

5 October Joe hold hands at Taylors SNL appearance, Elle comments 'their version of PDA at least' which is holding hands. Do you know who you are starts. Taylor performs Lover at SNL, the arrangement is acoustic and slow, she's wearing green, with a green piano and green floor, walls and nails! The music sheets look like paper planes. False God also.

11 October - lights up released

14 October - Harry at John Mayer concert at O2 London, John posts backstage photo.

21 October - A Fashion designer said they met Harry at the Bowery Hotel

27 October - Harry goes on stage at Kasey Musgraves last concert, wearing an all black version of the Fine Line Outfit.

28 October - Taylor's tiny desk concert, her CD is still in the background for Harry's in March.

5 November - Harry announced Fine Line

12, 17 November - Harry in New York

13 November - Joe and Taylor Thai restaurant Hampstead

16 November - Watermelon Sugar released as promotional single. Harry with Xander NY

20 November - Harry filmed the cross walk concert

22 November - sponsored tweets for Eroda Tourism started ❤️ Scooter wrote open letter to Taylor wanting a resolution saying his family was being threatened

23 November Harry's Zane Lowe interview (SNL 16 Nov)

1 December - Taylor on cover of British Vogue

3 December - Harry announced Adore you confirming Eroda is related.

7 December - Harry performs at Capitals Jingle Bell Ball, London

8 December - Taylor performs at Capitals Jingle Bell Ball, London

11 December - Kendall and Harry on Spill your guts

13 December - Fine Line released, Taylor’s birthday, Harry performed it in LA that night Harry Styles ‘Fine Line’ Concert at Forum in L.A. – Rolling Stone. Photos of Harry in Japan released. Taylor also performed that night but at MSG NY, making of photos. Rumour Xander there. Taylor performs in NY for Jingle Bell Ball and tells Fletcher "She had mentioned to me how much she loved the lyrics [to Undrunk]. I nearly fainted and passed away at that moment." Undrunk is about wanting to be over an ex.

15 December - Taylor’s 30th birthday party in NY with all the famous people, tiny pupils and a cat face cake. Media says Joe there, but:

16 December - Joe is in London, not at Taylor's birthday

18 December - Cats premiere, Taylor has a swollen lip. Joe attends holds hands as they leave. Flakes answering about holiday plans. Joe does Christmas Carol interview where he says he jumps in Hampstead Heath Pond every year. What convenient cross marketing, the film is shot in Hampstead, Paper Rings refers to icy outdoor pools. I wonder if he ran into Harry there. Harry at BBC Live Lounge recorded Juice cover

31 December - Joe, Taylor and friends at Maldives for New Years, Harry first wore the But Daddy I love him shirt on New Years Eve video of him dancing with no shoes and tipped a bartender $2020 in Anguilla in the Caribbean

Continue in 2020

#Youtube #haylor #haylor timeline #2019

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