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#when I first got into fandom nearly thirty years ago
snek-panini · 6 months
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I participated in Renegade Bindery's Binderary challenge this past February, and since it ended about two weeks ago it's probably time for me to start posting photos of the finished books, yeah? I made eleven books this year, many of which were multi-volume sets, and I'm going to start with the one that I had the most trouble with, Jane Austen's Persuasion. This project was nothing but trouble, and honestly every time I look at it I see nothing but its flaws. The cover is Allure book cloth from Hollander's (wisteria color; I bought it for another project last year and had a lot left over) with gold metallic HTV for the title and graphics. The last project I did with these materials was a dream; the cloth took HTV like a champ, better than any other project I'd done, and yet this time with the same roll of cloth and type/brand of HTV I couldn't get it to stick. You can see two spots where it's gone on crooked in the above photo, and below the cut you can see additional problems with the spine:
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Yikes. It is peeling. I read the book once and it is peeling. I've never had this problem before; it won't always stick at first, but once I get it to stick it stays that way. Not this time.
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Top view, with the endbands I sewed that have their cores visible. Again, not a problem I've had before but was a recurring theme this binderary; several of my Binderary books have it. Also platinum silk moire endpapers that were really hard to photograph and have both a wrinkle and a glue stain. It's my first time working with silk moire and I'm not sure I'm a fan, but three of the other books I made also have it and I didn't have nearly so may issues with them. So I think this book may have just been cursed. It's not pictured but the ribbon bookmark developed some kind of mysterious dark smudge in the middle somewhere between me gluing it in and me taking these photos. I do not know how this happened. The gilding went well though. That I can say.
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Couple of images of the typeset. I had to print the title page twice because it came out streaky the first time. I actually really like the typeset, which is what makes the rest of the issues with this bind so frustrating. It's pretty! I did well on that part! I wanted the exterior to be just as pretty and I'm upset that it's not!
Fun fact: Persuasion was actually my least favorite Austen when I first read it. But I was in my early twenties then, and I thought it would be fun to bind myself a pretty copy since I didn't own one, and reread it and maybe have different feelings about it now I'm on the other side of thirty. And I did reread it after binding, and I do like it better, and I'm sad that the exterior parts didn't turn out as well as I had hoped. Half the reason I bind public domain stuff is so I can show off my skills to IRL people who aren't in fandom, and not have to explain what fanfiction is or why it has so many dicks in it, and there were so many issues here that I don't even want to do that.
The good news is that this was the low point of binderary and most of the other books gave me results I like better. I'm still doing titles for a lot of them, so we'll see how fast I can get them done and photographed, but I've definitely got more books in store in the near future.
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sitp-recs · 10 months
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liv, out of curiosity, have you ever read fics where draco has to get married ( bc of bloodline etc ) so he has to break up with harry, or something like that? 🤔 i saw people talking about this idea online and i realised that i never come across anything like that before? but considering how many fics there are in the fandom i wonder if i just don’t know what tags to use! i suppose you’ve read more than me ( since i haven’t been reading their fics for too long ) you don’t have to rec them for me tho! just a silly question, thank you!!
Hi anon, thank you for the ask! Now I think about it I realize that I rarely come across this trope, but maybe that’s just because it’s not a storyline I’m very interested in? I assume most fics are not usually on my radar. Despite that I got a few recs that might fit, hope you enjoy and maybe my followers can add more?
Phoenix in the Fire by @lqtraintracks (E, 28k)
Harry never expected to have a hot summer fling with Draco Malfoy when he agreed to mind the castle with him. He also never expected that it would all have to end on August thirty-first. What happens when casual sex with Harry’s ex-enemy turns not casual after all? And how the hell is he going to stop Draco from making one of the biggest mistakes of his life?
On One's Knees by pir8fancier (E, 34k)
The war is over and to the victors go the spoils. If you are triggered by infidelity, this is not the fic for you.
Red Thread (that will lead me home to you) by xErised (E, 35k)
It takes four years of travelling and mutual pining for Harry to realise that Malfoy is the only one for him. Of course, he has to express his feelings in the most scandalous way possible—by stopping Malfoy's very proper, very pureblood wedding.
Paper Rings by lettersbyelise (E, 50k)
When Harry’s in need of a divorce lawyer, he has no choice but to turn to the best in the trade. Draco Malfoy’s reputation for discretion is flawless, and his track record for winning cases is close to perfect. But he’s also ruthless, passionate, and as infuriating as ever, and the brief relationship he and Harry had in Eighth Year still feels painfully fresh despite two decades spent apart.
We Are Young (I'll Carry You Home Tonight) by Femme (E, 69k)
Harry and Draco have been falling into bed on and off again since the last election five years ago, much to the amusement--and financial gain--of their circle of friends. But when Harry agrees to work with Draco to put Kingsley Shacklebolt into the Minister's office, they can't work side-by-side again every day and sleep together; that would be courting disaster. Wouldn't it?
Running Mate by Kbrick (E, 171k)
Nearly a decade after his relationship with Draco Malfoy imploded, Harry has a good life. He’s riding a wave of entrepreneurial success in muggle Chicago, and, for the first time ever, he's beholden to no one. Meanwhile, Draco is in London, making a name for himself in politics, and appears to be happily married. And so what if neither one of them has ever stopped thinking about the way things used to be?
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blackjackkent · 2 months
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🥳🎁 your turn friend :D
(Fanfic Writer Ask Game)
🥳 Why did you start writing fanfic?
I've gone through a couple fanfic "phases" and it always kicks off when I get really hyperfixated on something and start thinking about the scenes we don't see and want to make them happen in some fashion. And then when I get comments/feedback, it just feeds the hyperfixation and I come up with more ideas and keep writing and it becomes a habit. XD
(Also shoutout to @springagainafter who is primarily responsible for my long-standing liveblogging habit which I guess also qualifies as fanfic and which I've been doing longer than any other systematic writing really. I started doing that all the way back in my Mass Effect fandom days and got very addicted to the feeling of tracking a character very closely all the way through a story and feeling out how they grow and develop. c: )
🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?
Spent some time today working on Chapter 4 of Open Your Eyes purely so that I could have a response for this question. XD Who says ask memes aren't productive?
(This has been edited very little so apologies for rough edges. XD )
"Where are we, exactly?" Jaheira asks, looking around with narrowed eyes. Of course, she can tell the general answer at a glance, though it doesn't fill her with particular joy. Rasaad has led them to the sewers.  The ladder has dropped them off in an enormous stone tunnel, a good thirty feet wide. Flickering torches are set into the wall at regular intervals, little dots of orange stretching in a long line into the darkness.  Down the center of the tunnel flows a thick river of dark brown sludge. She gasps deep lungfuls of the blessedly cool air as they all catch their breath from their panicked run through the alleys above, and in the process gets flooded with the all-too-familiar smell - a mixture of rotting meat, offal, and garbage, intense enough to make her eyes water. Caden grins crookedly. "Hitting all the old favorites today, aren't we?" he quips. "Fog cloud escapes, angry guards, sewer run. Next thing you know, we'll be sleeping in a shitty inn and having Minsc carry fifteen broken swords to trade for a healing potion." Imoen snorts. "Hey, it's already beating out the Gate sewers. Look - they adventurer-proofed the place. Walkways and everything." She indicates the long causeways that line the sewer tunnel on either side; they're nearly five feet wide and constructed of high-quality cobblestone. "Treating us right." Rasaad doesn't laugh; he barely seems to hear them. He squints down the long dim tunnel with a preoccupied air. "We are at the edge of the Shackles Ward," he answers Jaheira tersely. "One of the poorest districts of the city. It was the first place I could find an entrance not guarded by amlakkar. They have stepped up their attention to the Muzad since I lived here." Jaheira frowns, leaning against the wall. She feels the damp condensation soak through her shirt, mixing with the lingering sweat from the desert heat above. "You didn't know that the city had put out a watch for you?" she asks quietly. He shakes his head. "No," he mutters. "The Sun Soul has a history of handling its own affairs. You have seen this - they sent the Tears of Selune after me." He scowls bitterly. "But that was many years ago. It appears their concern regarding me has escalated." He is doing a creditable job hiding his agitation, but Jaheira knows him too well. There’s an anxious crease in his forehead at the place where his eyebrows come together, and his black eyes glitter in the flickering torchlight. He is standing very still as he always does, no fidgeting, no wasted movement - but there is a vibrating tension to the set of his shoulders that tells her his inward thoughts are a maelstrom.  Impulsively she reaches out, rests the tips of her fingers against his arm. He releases a sharp outward breath and for a moment she sees a flash of regret twist across his face. Then he jerks his arm away and his expression hoods over, unreadable again. “This changes nothing,” he says, suddenly brisk. “The Muzad - the Undercity - stretches to every corner of Calimport. We will find our way to the monastery by this route, and then I shall be able to speak to my brothers without the interference of the amlakkar.” “Of course,” Caden says, with the faintest flicker of dry humor. “Very simple.”
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Title : About That Kind of Desire… (Chapter 2)
Fandom: King of Fighters
Characters : Kyo Kusanagi, Kyo-1, Kyo-2, Kusanagi, Iori Yagami (Hinted Kyo x Iori)
Summary:
[Sequel to Perishing Little Flame on Winding Road]. Kyo seem to be concerned about the unexpected presence of one pesky redhead, who seemed to be in some deep trouble. So, this brunette simply follows him just to find out what it was all about… [Ch 5: hinted Kyo x Iori]
AO3 Link
It didn't take long enough for Kusanagi to find his hide-out, which he keeps in secret even from the clones. That's right, this old unfinished to build flat was once a den of crackheads and other questionable type of people, who were counted as no longer human beings. However, when this darker brunette discovered this place by accident nearly half a year ago, he was the center of local fauna's attention and wasn't greeted so warm and kindly. From being surrounded up to teeth armored with cold or other lethal weapons wielding thugs to straightforward freaks, who had nothing to lose by attacking with bare fists and fangs. Even so, from the first glance 'Nagi could have been mistaken for an average street punk or delinquent, who's face alone asks for the problems, and could be taken down with no sweat.
However, just as soon anyone jumps into unfair battle along with back-stabbing attacks against this darker brunette, it becomes their signed death sentence. That's right, from breaking the bones until they pierce the victim's skin or pulling out inside organs as a finisher and showing it before crushing them in front of an unfortunate soul, to being burned alive until nothing but crispy ashes remains. Kusanagi shown no mercy for his enemies and eventually this how he claimed this abandoned building as his own lair. Yet mostly he used just a basement as a place for anyone, who gets on his bad side or as time went on also for those, who are threat for the clones as well, and then personally deal with them.
But for now, 'Nagi lays down Kyo against the wall and after looking inside this brunette's pockets, he found a cellphone. Surely, this darker brunette was grinning as wide as a Cheshire cat once he started to look into the contact list. After he finds one certain contact and dials it, Kusanagi just delightfully stands up and impatiently waits for the answer. Apparently, 'Nagi seemed to be as excited and impatient as a high-school student waiting for the biggest crush's call. Heck, he even started to lean on his toes or even walking in circles.
Just when that person picked his call, Kusanagi cheerfully speaks up as he tries to imitate one certain brunette's voice ''Yo, fuck-face! How ya doing?~ Listen, I am bored and I wanna some fight. So, drop whatever you're doing and face me! I'll give you thirty minutes to drag you lazy-ass over here. After that, I may feed up and die from waiting. Then blame yourself if you find me being wasted by someone else~ So, you better listen carefully, 'cos I ain't gonna repeat it twice, you can find me at…'' and it seems that after this darker brunette took his time to explain some other details and without even giving a chance for one redhead to reply, 'Nagi cuts the call. Now this darker brunette, bends down and places this Kusanagi heir's phone back to his pants' pocket while saying ''Not sure why you have this phone number, but that saved me from a lot of troubles. So, rest while you can.'' and with that 'Nagi picks Kyo like a sack of potatoes and continued carrying him until they got inside the building.
Finally, one certain brunette started to slowly open his eyes. He didn't know how much time has passed, but he was certain of one thing - that unbearable headache won't allow him to rest any longer. It felt like this Kusanagi's head may explode at any moment. Right now all this brunette could do is letting out a long groan while lowering his head on side. He was still not sure whenever it was just a terrible hungover or not. However, he could sense that his back was leaning against the cold concrete wall, and he's sitting on his knees.
Even through the jeans material this brunette could feel an ice-cold smooth surface. Definitely, that allowed this Kusanagi to understand that it wasn't his room. More important, the temperature inside this place wasn't so different from the outside, yet somewhere from above the fresh air was getting through this fumed room. As soon as Kyo opens his eyes, he notices that this room sank in the blinding darkness. Hell, the only thing that was closest to the light source was the very tiny square window with a few metal bars. The only sound in this silent place where his own breathing and time from time a quiet noise of rustling cloth material.
Now this brunette tried to move his hands, however, he couldn't do it. It was like they were tightly tied up behind his back. Of course, after leaning forward, Kyo ignites his hand and tried to burn that rope, however something was off. It seems that it wasn't very effective and now this Kusanagi started to feel the rising heat around his wrists, which was like he was being touched by a hot wire. Even if he dimmed his flame, the metal wire's heat successfully soaked through the clothing material. It was painful and this brunette tried to deeply breathe through his nose. Hell, someone, who did this to him surely knows well about Kyo and where to strike him.
Nevertheless, he felt like his body was still too weak to even stand up, so, being stuck in the middle of nowhere wasn't the most assuring feeling, and it only made this brunette more anxious and his shoulders being stiff. Once this Kusanagi tried to open his mouth, he felt that some kind of duck-tape was pressed against his lips and covering the mouth. Without any saying, this brunette knew - the sooner he'll escape, the better.
Unfortunately, Kyo got alerted upon hearing footsteps outside this place and how they were getting close. It wasn't Yagami, that's for sure, even that redhead wouldn't radiate such a malicious aura when he was under the blood riot. Plus, the person behind this menacing energy seemed rather chill and happy as he was getting closer. This Kusanagi could even hear his own heart beat and how it even echoed through his ears. Now another source of light appear after someone opens the basement's door, which was in the other end of the room. It was followed by a shadow figure blocking the pale light.
However, as soon as the dark shadow slammed the door, the ray of light was killed. Nevertheless, the sound of sparkling fire managed to disturb the silence and now a small orange flame was dancing in the air. The old and half peeled off paint on the wall was revealed by the reflected orange light. Even so, below the floating flame there was a visible dark spread palm, and behind the flame, the orange light revealed this darker brunette's face and these red eyes shining.
After 'Nagi climbs down the stairs while his other hand was inside the pants' pocket, he walks further until he reached the wall and noticed a yellowish light switch, which perhaps was white but as time passed and thanks for current conditions, it changed into this disgustingly color tone. As this darker brunette suddenly lowers his ignited arm, the orange flame has faded away. However, after a clicking sound the darkness has been vanished by the daylight-like light imitation, which fully exposed this empty room with cracked walls and nearly peeled-off white paint, which revealed the hiding putrid greenish paint.
Now the awkward silence between the predator and his victim added more tension, which was accompanied by the buzzing light installation above them, which time from time flickers. Kyo only widens his eyes and observes the darker brunette, who instead of a familiar high-school uniform wore a white t-shirt, longer finger-less gloves with a certain crest of the sun on them, and a pair of black jeans. 'Nagi was approaching him without saying a word and only predatory staring at this Kusanagi with flaming impatience in his eyes.
Once 'Nagi was close enough to this brunette, he squats and gently a couple of times slaps Kyo's cheek while teasing ''So, how our little princess is doing? Did you sleep well? Ya sure took your time~'', of course, this brunette narrows his gaze and turns his face away to this impostor. Hell, that familiar coldness, which was changed with the heatwave where this dark being touched him. Surely, such a natural reaction amused Kusanagi, who just chuckles in deeper voice and delightfully smiles ''What is it with ya? I haven't done anything, and you're already trembling. What a heck is wrong with you?''.
However, no matter as the darker brunette radiated that crushing and intimidating energy, Kyo decides to try to escape this place. Hell, no restraint or any amounts of freaks will ever stop will defeat him, or so, convinced himself in his mind. So, this Kusanagi heir frowns and fixates his furious gaze at this darker brunette while waiting for the right moment to act. Surely, this kind of staring wasn't left without 'Nagi commenting ''Ya giving me that look again… It's the same one as that poor little bastard Shiro used to give me at the very beginning, if I told him the truth about that wank doctor or his oh-so-precious original. But a second later that over-sensitive cry-baby would be looking like about to burst in tears. So, you two are both weaklings, who can only whine and get away by making teary eyes.'' as Kusanagi lowers his head and his face darkens, he continues in disgusted hissing ''You are fucking sickos, you know…at least that traitor is finally dead.''.
Nevertheless, Kusanagi lifts his head and now after he slams his one hand into the wall, he corners Kyo and nearly in singing voice asks ''So, how does it feel knowing that someone, who dedicated their entire to you, dies like a dog?~ Ya know, I would have just only split his stomach wide and pull out his guts while he would be roasted alive like a pig. But it seems a couple of your clones didn't want him to die in a quick way and later on, they were scared away by that man, which you call, Yagami. So, it seems poor little Shiro died somewhere alone in slow and agonizing death, without his oh-so-precious original even bothering to show up at his final moments~''.
So, like Kyo feared, it was really 'Nagi's fault that Shiro was one-eye blind and ended up looking like being dragged away from the slaughter scene. Surely, that infuriates, but also at the same time sends down shivers this brunette's spine what this darker brunette was capable of. However, as Kusanagi leans closely to him, Kyo uses his chance. Now he closes his eyes and slams his forehead against 'Nagi's as hard as he could. While the darker brunette places his hand on his forehead and his face twisting in pain, he lost his balance and fell on his back. In meantime, this Kusanagi's back hits the wall, but he gathers all his will and strength to stand up, even if knees didn't want to listen to him and were shaking. More so, having his arms being tied up behind his back only adds more unnecessarily difficulty.
Now Kyo fastens his step and moves forward. Unfortunately, this brunette widens his eyes in terror and looks back when all of a sudden 'Nagi's grabbed his shank. The darker brunette only viciously hisses at this brunette "You little piece of shit...THE HELL, YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?! YA GOING WITH ME!" and roughly pulls Kyo's leg closer to him. As this Kusanagi harshly hits the ground, he lets a loud brief groan. However, despite that this brunette was kicking off Kusanagi with his other foot and trying to shake-off this fiend's hand from his other one, 'Nagi manages to squat and now grabs the other foot.
After Kusanagi firmly grasps both of Kyo's shanks, he starts dragging his prey back to his spot and starts scolding as he noticed a blood traces left on the floor "You filthy bastard! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO MAKE SUCH A MESS?!". As 'Nagi ferociously stares at his victim, he makes sure that Kyo leans against the wall. Now after placing his hand on this brunette's head and sinking his fingertips inside his scalp, he yanks this Kusanagi's head up. Surely, this darker brunette gives a malicious smile and roughly breaths as he observes how the weak blood stream runs down Kyo's face, even that sensation of warm liquid against his palm was so thrilling.
When 'Nagi places his hand on this Kusanagi's throat and starts to squeeze it, he adds in sweeter but at the same time menacing tone "You would have avoided all this trouble, if behave yourself. All you need to do is sit and wait nicely, but nooo!~ You had to make such a scene... You know, I could slit your throat at any time, however, I don't want to stain my hands with weakling's blood, because that would be a bother, if we don't get attention from one certain person."
Once Kusanagi has released this brunette's throat, there were left cyan color marks, which didn't look like going to disappear any time soon. However, 'Nagi already got bored and indifferently stares how Kyo's face was still nearly purple and trying to catch a breath. The darker brunette only mockingly smiles and adds "You know, I'm tired from speaking alone. So, how about we let such pearls of wisdom as you to speaks up?".
As he carefully grasped the duck-tape with a couple of his fingers, 'Nagi peels off the duck-tape with one sudden movement and tosses on the ground. However, this brunette refused to say even a single word and just gives a indignant look for this fellow. Kusanagi only prompts in playful tone "Come on, don't be shy~ Ya have something to say, right?-" however, for the first time Kyo replies in serious tone "What are you even talking about? I don't know what do you want from me, but you won't get away so easily, pal! Hell, you are nothing than a coward, who can't face your opponent fair and square!-".
However, it seems 'Nagi wasn't so glad hearing this, and now he harshly slaps this brunette's cheek. Surely, it left Kyo dumbfounded and forcibly turn his head another way and lower it. Hell, even to this very moment this Kusanagi heir could feel a stinging pain on his cheek yet while he was shocked, he could hear how the darker brunette comments in strict voice "I told you to speak up, not to whine! Haven't you learned that since last time? So, you better don't temp me, got it?!".
A minute has passed yet no response from Kyo and that was getting on this darker brunette's nerves, who just bites his lower lip and silently growls while observing his non-responsive target. Now Kusanagi violently grabs this brunette by the hem of his shirt and brings closer to him. Apparently, Kyo tilts his head up and narrows his gaze while directly facing this fellow with such indignant and stubborn look on his face. The darker brunette only briefly chuckles and comments "You know, I don't get it why your so-called Yagami is interested in such a pathetic and annoying loser like you. You can't even fight-back, and I could blast your brain without a sweat, yet you're always ending up in the center of this man's sight. I wonder why...".
Despite being cornered by a rabid beast as 'Nagi, this brunette starts to object in serious tone ''Then, why don't you ask him directly? If you have some sort of business with Yagami, then deal with him personally. You're just showing off your fragile ego, nothing more, or you may not realize that? So, have guts not only to back-stab, but also ready to challenge your opponent fairly.'' Now the darker brunette frowns and looks for something inside his pants' pocket and after picking it, he opens the switchblade and points the tip of this weapon at Kyo's neck so closely that it touches his skin. While giving annoyed look 'Nagi replies ''Shut the hell up! I'm tired of you. So, how about I'll slice you into pieces and use it as clues to find me? I bet even wild animals wouldn't eat your disgusting flesh…''.
Lastly, this Kusanagi heir just cracks a mocking smile and replies ''Just do it instead of barking.'' when the darker brunette aims the sharp blade at Kyo's throat, Kusanagi threats ''Then you left me no choice…DIE!''. However, just the moment before the impact the violent slamming noise behind them interrupts this darker brunette. Once he noticed, who was behind this scene and still smoking door, 'Nagi lowers the switchblade and plays with the blade in his hand until he stabs the Kyo's left thigh and delightfully smiles ''So, you finally came~ Took long enough…''.
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Chapter 1 Link
Chapter 3 Link
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tiggymalvern · 5 years
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Practical Considerations of First World Murder-Cannibalism
Following on from a post I replied to yesterday about issues with torturing people before you eat them, I thought I’d make a longer post about the physiology and pharmacology Hannibal might take into account when he’s killing people with the intention of eating them. 1. There’s the issue of the meat tasting worse if it’s frightened, which is raised in the show itself. If someone has been struggling hard before they’re killed, there will be lactic acid build-up in the muscles – Hannibal says that’s how Randall Tier/not-Freddie tastes when he and Will are eating the lomo saltado. I believe this is a big part of the reason Hannibal does so much cooking with the internal organs of his victims – their muscles wouldn’t taste good (and honestly most muscle from older people would be tough and stringy anyway, that’s why we eat a lot more lamb than mutton), but their pre-death experiences will have little effect on the flavour of their liver or their kidneys. Hannibal spent time living in France, where cooking with offal is common, and that probably furnished him with a number of useful recipes. 2. Drugging victims with sedatives or anaesthetics shortly before he kills them is going to be a pretty big no. Animal meat has specified withdrawal times after the use of many drugs before it can go into the human food chain (for ketamine in cattle, for instance, it’s three days). Hannibal doesn’t want to be sedating himself when he sits down to a meal. If he does use sedatives on some of his victims to enable him to snatch them quietly, he’ll want to confine them somewhere for long enough for the drugs to get out of their system before he kills them. 3. Almost more important than any drugs Hannibal might give to his victims would be the drugs the victims are taking for themselves. We know that for his chosen kills, Hannibal will perform some surveillance in order to decide when to grab them. The homophobic phlebotomist, for instance – Hannibal knows where he’ll be, which car is his and roughly what time he’ll be leaving in order to hole his petrol tank at the right time. As a medical professional, Hannibal can probably pick up some signs of illness via observation, and some other pathologies he’ll detect when he dissects them. It’s going to be harder with the people who appear perfectly healthy precisely BECAUSE of the drugs they’re taking. You really wouldn’t want to eat someone who’s undergoing a successful course of cancer chemo, or who lives on a cocktail of anti-retroviral drugs, for instance, but that’s going to be hard to know unless he goes in for long term, in depth surveillance, which would have a higher chance of someone noticing him watching. There’s always going to be some element of risk entailed in cannibalism in that regard, and that’s probably why Hannibal only takes one organ from each of his victims instead of ‘honouring every part of them.’ If he only eats a small piece of each person, he can tolerate the low levels of drug exposure he’s likely to be getting. Garret Jacob Hobbs doesn’t have those issues as much because his victims are exclusively teenage girls who are far more likely to be healthy. When he finds one who isn’t (Elise Nichols), he doesn’t eat her, he puts her back. 4. Don’t trust the books! Hannibal kills Cassie Boyle in the novels after she blows cigarette smoke in his face, and he takes her lungs. Poetic ‘justice’ might be nice and all, but Hannibal wouldn’t want to eat a smoker’s lungs – they must taste vile. There’s no indication that the TV Cassie Boyle smokes, and her lungs when he cooks them are lovely and pink 😊
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rae-is-typing · 3 years
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what about a teen!mom reader with the cast, she brings her baby to meet the cast for the first time and one if them (maybe tom or harrison?) gets like super uncomfortable when the baby starts crying while their holding her/him 8, 2, 6, 3, 14 and everyone is laughing
Again, this was written a long time ago and has just been sitting in my google docs cause I felt guilty for not posting. Sorry for the wait and thank you for the patience.
Opposite of Baby Fever
Disclaimers: This anon requested that the fandom be changed to criminal minds!! I also don't have kids nor do I want them so I apologize if this is inaccurate.
Description: You bring your baby to meet the BAU
Characters: You, a baby, the BAU
Warning: Babies and anxious Reid
Word Count: about 600
8: “Oh god, it's crying! What do I do? What do i do?”
2: “Why is it hugging me?”
6: “I’m out of ideas. Take it or leave it.”
3: “Was that really necessary?”
14: “Do you trust me?”
You had a baby very young
15, if you’re being specific
When your parents found out you were pregnant, they sent you to live with your uncle Will and aunt JJ
They were disappointed, but excited nonetheless for their new member of the family
JJ was uber supportive of you
Especially because you were terrified of labor
With or without drugs
Just the thought of pushing a baby out of you
Or getting a c-section
Either way sounded terrifying
But JJ talked to you about your fears. After all, she had two babies and survived it
The fateful day came ten weeks early
The labor was difficult
Very difficult
You had an emergency c-section after thirty six hours of labor
Your baby girl came out blue and had to spend the first few months of her life in the NICU
It was hard
But JJ, Will, and the boys helped you out during that awful time
But at three months and a couple weeks old, she got to come home
You kept her home for a long time until you began to cope better with your postpartum anxiety about other people being around your baby
Now, you were aware of all the darkness JJ and her team were surrounded by all the time, so you and Penelope decided to make a plan
After a hard case involving children, you decided to surprise the team with JJ’s boys and your baby daughter
They were so happy
JJ cried
Tara teared up
Roosi and Morgan couldn’t stop smiling while holding the babies
Spencer smiled while spouting off a multitude of facts about babies
“Babies are born with nearly 300 bones and no kneecaps. This is so the baby can squeeze through the birth canal with minimal damage.”
This made you and JJ snort
“Babies also have no sense of the circadian rhythm that adults do. They also deprive their parents of up to 44 days of sleep in the first year.”
“Only 44?”
“Yeah, but that is an average.”
“Huh. Feels like more.”
After each member has had a turn, Spencer squirms uncomfortably
“Do you trust me?” JJ asks, now holding your daughter.
“Of course.”
“Here,” She passes him your baby
You and JJ are both by his side, ensuring the safety of the young girl
She immediately cuddles up to Spencer, grabs his tie with one hand and his hair with the other
“Why is she hugging me?”
Everyone laughs
“It means she likes you, genius.” Morgan quips
They soon get into a rhythm with Spencer bouncing her gently and your daughter tugging on his tie
The she starts fussing lightly, and you hesitate
The fussing may wind down or it may turn into a full crying fit
Then she starts wailing
Spencer panics
“Oh god, she's crying! What do I do? What do i do?”
“Here,” You say, holding your hands out
He is happy to see you take her back
“Is she hungry?”
“No, this isn’t her hungry cry.”
“Wet?”
You check. “Nope.”
“She didn’t like looking at Boy Wonder? That’s a shame.”
Spencer rolls his eyes. “Was that really necessary?”
Morgan throws his hands up “I’m out of ideas. Take it or leave it.”
You laugh, soothing your baby until she stops crying
“There we go,” You whisper as she falls asleep. “She’s just tired.”
“As we all are.” Hotch says with a smile. “Thank you for the surprise, Y/N. It was great.”
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maple-the-awesome · 2 years
Text
We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Chapter 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN Reader
Words: 1,875
Overview: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinished business, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.
Series Masterlist 🤎 Marvel Masterlist 🤎 Fandom Masterlist
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CHAPTER ONE: WORSE TIME ALONE
"How many laps did you make?"
"Six...you?"
"24," despite how out of breath you currently are and the roll of your eyes at Steve's smug face, you still manage to crack a smile between the constant huffs of air exiting your mouth.
"I'll have you know six is very impressive. I watched kids in school cry after just one," you defend before chugging down the contents of your water bottle.
Glancing at the blond who practically towers over you from where you sit on the ground, you notice he looks like he could run at least seven more laps before breaking a sweat,”...hey, there's this diner a few blocks down that has really good burgers. We should go."
You knew what he was going to say before even asking the question which is why there was slight hesitation behind it. Regardless, you still chew on your lip when he gives a shallow chuckle, shaking his head," sorry...I've got plans today."
"Oh come on. Super soldiers need to eat, right? And plus, I heard this place has a great senior discount," you press on despite feeling a pierce of guilt in doing so. You're fully aware of what today is, however, there's still a part of you that wants him to confirm it himself. Why? You’re debating your true intentions. Maybe you feel bad that he thinks he has to spend today alone. Maybe you secretly don't want to spend it alone yourself. It's a hell of a day for that, after all.
Despite your hopeful smile and false ignorance to the date, Steve doesn't budge with his answer, although, he does give you an apologetic smile," sorry, but I can't cancel today. Maybe next time."
"I'm gonna hold you to that, Rogers..." Once again, he chuckles which sounds more convincing this time around much to your relief, however, it's only a temporary fix to the aching you feel internally.
It's been three years since Steve returned after having been miraculously frozen in ice; a possibility you had never expected and quite frankly believed to be some cruel prank when the news first reached you. Hollie had been alive for nearly thirty years after Steve's 'death'. You had been living your second life for twenty-two years. Not once did you think Steve could possibly still be alive after all that time, so it's safe to say you felt very conflicted upon seeing him for the first time in decades. You were happy- never mistake that-, there's just one tiny problem: he doesn��t know your secret.
If you were still Hollie and visibly old as dirt, your reunion with Steve would've been a tearful one because he'd know exactly who you are and the history you both share. The problem is you aren't still Hollie and, honestly, you'd be offended if anyone said you look ninety-five.
Right now, in this life, you are (Y/n), a talent agent of SHIELD entrusted with working directly alongside the Avengers. Until that moment three years ago, you had never met Captain America. It's a consequence that you know enough about the forties to help him adjust to the modern era. It's pure luck that you seem to understand him as well as you do. It's a secret to him that there's so much more to you than meets his eyes.
You'd be breaking your biggest rule by telling him you're Hollie. Now, it’s not to say you haven't toyed with the idea before. You want desperately to tell him, but at what risk? You'd look truly insane telling him you're his dead friend not to mention you might lose your job if you insist on it too much. One wrong reaction could cause a domino effect that destroys everything you’ve been working to preserve. It doesn’t matter what today is; that’s a risk you refuse to take when you’ve worked this hard just to have your past life’s family still around.
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"You doing good?" Natasha leans back against the counter, her arms stretched out as she looks over to you. Even with her question, you don’t look away from the scene before you.
The boys are in a circle in the living room with Clint making some poor joke that still manages to make the whole group laugh. Usually you love nights like this where you can watch everyone let loose from their busy lives, but tonight has been different. Tonight you feel suffocated. Even Steve was smart enough not to put himself through the pain, giving Tony some excuse similar to the one he had given you this morning. You should’ve just done the same.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"You know, I'm a spy trained to recognize body language and you've been pretty distracted all night. Somethings on your mind," it's no longer a question, but rather a statement. She knows it's true and so do you.
Taking a sip of your drink, you keep your lips against the glass for an extended amount of time while debating how much you should admit," today’s an...anniversary of types, you could say."
Natasha's expression softens. True to her words about being a gifted spy, she can tell simply by that glimmer in your eyes that you aren't referencing something joyful," and you've been keeping it to yourself all night? Do you want to talk about it? We can go somewhere more quiet."
You inhale a bit too deeply which you know she hears, but you face her with a soft smile anyways," thanks, but I'll be fine. It would be a lot to explain."
'Too much to explain,' you take yet another drink from the glass that's basically empty before pushing yourself off the chair,” I think I should get going. I don’t want to walk home too late.”
Natasha's eyes follow you, the frown on her face evident,” do you want me to drop you off? We can steal one of Tony's cars and go for a drive around town. Might distract you a bit."
Her offer would be tempting any other time, but you shake your head while wiggling on your coat with a smile," nah, I'm an adult and a trained agent. I think I can walk myself home."
"Leaving already?!" Tony calls out, the rest of the group turning heads to you with smiles," the night's still young!"
"I'm tired and old. I can't stay up as late as all of you," you half jest, smirking at his groan as he throws his head back in mock annoyance.
"Hey, don't go around saying you’re old. If you're old, then what does that make me?"
"Don't worry. I'm sure Steve would be happy to invite you on bingo nights and show you his old man diet if you ask him. Have a goodnight everyone," you receive a chorus of 'goodnights' before the evaluator doors shut, leaving you alone to fall back against the mental frame with a tired sigh.
The distance from the Avenger's Tower to your apartment isn't terrible. Just a few blocks to the subway and a train ride away. You manage to echo out most of the trip with your own tired thoughts which are normally a welcomed distraction from all the weird smells and strange people, however, they only manage to weigh you down further tonight.
Even upon closing the door of your apartment, you let go of a heavy sigh before kicking off your shoes somewhere you don't care where. Shedding your coat and letting it simply fall to the ground, you practically drag your feet into the bedroom where you carelessly collapse onto the soft covers of your bed. You remain there for a good few minutes, soaking in the familiar scent that your friends often joke reminds them of their grandparents, then again, they say everything about your house reminds them of an old person. The only person who appreciates your antiques is Steve which is no shocker.
Looking up, you meet eyes with the picture on your bedside which makes your heart even heavier than it has been all day. You've really tried today; you've tried to think about something else and distract yourself from the past, yet here you are teary eyed after an entire day of keeping your emotions damned up from your friends; emotions you worry they could never understand.
You carefully pick up the picture before rolling onto your side with it in hand. You smile sadly through the darkness," you know how many times I hear people say time heals all wounds? Meanwhile I'm here nearly seventy years and a new life later, still heartbroken...Crazy enough, I actually think it was worse this year, too. Then again, I think it might be because of the 'situation'.
"Steve always goes to the museum on days like this. They got this nice little exhibit set up for you there that he visits. I wanted to offer to go, too, because I feel bad that he has to mourn on his own and honestly, I didn't want to be alone today either, but it's not exactly easy to weasel my way into that part of his life. If I were still Hollie to him, sure, but I think it would be pretty weird for me to tell him as (Y/n) 'yeah, I miss him just as much'...I don't think that would make him feel any better.
"I spent most the day in the lab with Tony actually. I think you'd like him. He's just like a mini Howard, but like, the good parts. I mean, I love Howard, he was just an idiot when it came to raising kids. I was always worried he might drop the ball with Tony, especially without me around to spoil him with attention, but I gotta say, he ended up pretty good with all things considered. A smart ass like his dad, but that's just a Stark thing. I doubt you'd deny that."
You take in a breath, hesitating before continuing," I'm grateful; I really am. Even in a new life, I get to remember all the amazing times I had as Hollie. I've even been lucky enough to build this life around those I knew and loved as her. I still get to be friends with Steve even if he doesn't realize the bond we have, and I get to be proud of Tony which I wish I could tell him without it being weird. It’s just…I miss you so much, James.
"They say people are reborn when they have unfinished business to tend to, but all I ever wanted as Hollie was to marry you. I can't exactly do anything about that when you're not here, although, I wish I could...Like I told you sixty eight years ago to this day, I can't imagine spending my life with anyone other than you and as I hope you can see, Barnes, I sure meant that; one life to another, you're the only one for me," you press a kiss to the picture while squeezing your tear-filled eyes shut as if that would magically bring your fiancé back. Looking back at the picture of his smiling face, you try your best to smile back even if it’s a broken one," I wish you were still here with me, James…"
NEXT CHAPTER➡️
⬅️PREVIOUS CHAPTER
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burnedbyshoto · 4 years
Text
hawks_littledove.mp3
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— You’re an avid listener to NSFW ASMR artist Hawks. It’s just your luck that he’s offered to have phone sex with you.
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pairing: takami keigo (hawks) x fem!reader
warnings: smut, 18+, slight abuse of power/influence, phone sex, masturbation, degradation, praise, nsfw asmr artist!hawks
word count: 5,018
a/n: my keyboard is broken and i could actually cry. but hey, hawks do be sexy even tho I would never trust him with my life. also LOL this might be a call out to a lot of us, do not be offended or I will cry.
kinktober day 14 main kink: phone sex | kinktober masterlist
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Fantasizing about being in relationships with fictional characters was entirely healthy and normal.
That was something you believed to the core. It was fictional; thus, no one but you were to be hurt at the end of the day. The character, being fake, could never have an opinion because you must be real in order to have an opinion. So when you were between boyfriends, you discovered a new anime, and before you could stop yourself, you fell hard for a character.
It started as a mild obsession.
You had looked up fanart via google images, your heart warming when you saw the plethora of different fanart. The anime itself had been in circulation for a few years now, the manga for much longer, so the content was endless. Then google images wasn’t enough, and you began crossing into Twitter and Tumblr.
The fanart became better, more engrossing, and definitely much more NSFW. And then, one night during your endless rabbit hole down Tumblr after your daily search on Twitter, you stilled when seeing a new type of content.
⇒ grey fullbuster x reader
The obsession grew worse.
So much so that you had followed nearly five hundred self insert writers and artists on Tumblr, and maybe seven hundred artists, meta writers, and thread makers on twitter. But three months into consuming all the content you could find, you came across a new name that made you tilt your head.
Hawks Fierce Wings
It was a name that was being repeated and heavily talked about on both sites. It was an ASMR artist, apparently, and you frowned at the thought. You didn’t have anything against ASMR videos, but you weren’t exactly sure how to handle an anime ASMR artist. Were they cosplaying while making all those weird ASMR sounds? You really didn’t have any idea, but due to the immense boredom of your lazy day in, you decided to hell with it and tried out his most popular video.
It was simply entitled: Hawks is Jealous.
Did you have any idea as to who Hawks was? God, no, you didn’t. But if it was just some random cosplay he was going to do, you didn’t think it was going to matter. So as the only slightly educated ASMR listener, you never truly became invested when it was a thing; you slipped on your earbuds and pressed play.
The introduction screen faded into an illustrated picture of a slightly handsome man, and some calming yet tense music played in the background. You shifted, eyebrows drew as you waited for the ASMR session to begin, and when it did, you were not ready.
“I saw you walking around with that asshole today,” a voice practically growled in your ear, and you froze.
Oh, no.
Oh, no.
Oh, no!
For almost an entire hour, you sat glued to your sofa, your fingers digging into your lap as the jealous, spiteful words of this man named Hawks poured bitterly in your ear. His words were a near aggravated assault on you and definitely something you were beyond uncomfortable hearing from a stranger, but there was something about his voice that kept you there. Maybe it was the tenor of his tone or the way there was this sly, cunning scent to his words that he seemed to hide deep within his throat, but there was something that kept you there.
The second the passionate, heated kissing noises and heavy moans began to spill from his lips, you screeched, slamming your laptop closed as your cheeks pounded heavily.
Oh my god?!
It took a bit, but eventually, you were able to finish the audio and quickly figured out why he was an NSFW artist. You had never, ever heard a man eat a pussy fake or real as eagerly or vigorously as he did. Your hands were gripping the pants of your leggings, and your chest heaved.
Oh, motherfucking shit.
Finding out there were almost seventy other videos for you to still experience sent you scrambling for more, and eventually, you had to confess you were obsessed. Despite the anime fandoms you had discovered him for, Hawks seemed to be more famous for the content he created as himself. His real name was unknown by the looks of it, and he was only addressed as Hawks by his audience, something you caught on to quickly. So only after creating a new profile for his Youtube account, you made quick work of liking and commenting on every single of his already published seventy-eight nearly one hour and thirty-minute videos. 
Each one was different.
Each one filled with various roadmaps on how Hawks' scenarios would play out for you — the listener. When he used his own persona, he called the listener his little dove or his chicken nugget, sometimes his KFC thigh, or his shish kabob. 
You were glad at the very least he didn’t call you by any of those nicknames when pretending to fuck you at a speed only a “porn-is-my-only-education-on-porn” virgin teenage boy. You knew it wasn’t ideal, usually, but for some reason, it just worked. You commented on everything, read his summaries and thoughts on each video. Eventually, when you found yourself on his final, most recent video, you were ready to go a step further.
The Patreon app on your phone seemed jarringly out of place as you opened the app and subscribed yourself to Hawks' highest tiered option for the price of twenty USD.
And when you got your access to his page, you were immersed in more heavier, better content.
It was a goldmine in a sea of fools gold, and you absolutely went insane.
You weren’t sure if you were insane, needy, or just straight-up idiotic for scrolling to the very first Patreon post and indulging in the content Hawks created. 
There was a stark difference between the warnings alone between the Youtube videos and the Patreon posts. While the porn was readily accessible on Youtube, the kinkiest thing that ever happened in a video was a slight implication that Hawks had left the listener on a vibrator and fuckmachine as he went to go talk to the visiting neighbors.
It was a slight, tiny zone out and miss a detail, but one you had clung onto like an obsessed psycho and even commented on in your comment on the post. Of course, Hawks hadn’t responded, not that you had ever expected him to because all things considered, a video that was eight months old and hadn’t done that well, to begin with, didn’t seem like anything he would remember: notifications and all. 
But Patreon? Oh good, sweet, ravishing Patreon.
The very first video was of the following:
Stepbrother!Hawks fucks Stepsister!Listener in the stairwell during Christmas Dinner.
After praying and swearing to all the deities of the world that you were merely a person with a voice kink for this man and not, in fact, a perverted pseudo-incest worshiper, you clicked on it and began. It was downright sinful.
There were active voices whispered in the background as Hawks laughed about how fucking slutty you were for letting your brother fuck you like this. In the hallway, like a dog, where anyone in your joint family could walk out into. He laughed that you probably wanted it, how your wet ass pussy was greedily sucking him in, so how could you even begin to deny your lust for your brother.
You had to take a break five times during that audio.
Eventually, you do end up catching up.
Each video he had ever posted to your disposal, and most likely due to the different tier levels, you always commented on the videos. Even if it made you feel awkward for lusting over things months old, even if there were no other comments on the videos, which was much more common than you thought, you always commented and liked. It wasn’t anything ever crazy, you had seen the rarest comments bring a whole essay of analysis on why they loved it or the hating words, but you kept it simple.
Just something to keep Hawks spirits high without draining you even further of energy.
A simple: holy shit, that was hot as fucking hell!!!! you never disappoint me!!!
You never expected anything out of it; as a matter of fact, you had merely thought that you were doing the least by merely appreciating his creations when, one night, a few hours after you had gotten home. Your phone chimed with an alert.
Your mouth formed an ‘o’ in surprise; you hadn’t realized there was going to be a new release after he had just updated four days ago. Still, you popped in your earbuds and began the audio with a simple title.
i fuk ur stupid lil pus until u cri
He wasn’t precisely putting much effort into his titles these days, but his tags were definitely accurate and entirely explicit in what was to come. And in this newest video, the prominent tag was degradation.
You weren’t entirely into degradation, but still, you did what you had to do because you weren’t turned off by it. With the beginning sounds of the music playing in the background, you warped into the situation Hawks carefully carved.
But, oh?
Your face simmered with heat as Hawks dirty words dripped from the earbuds, the wet, squelching noise of your cunt and throat being fucked like some inanimate object made you soak through your panties as his disparaging words burned against your spine like a hot brand. After the thirty-minute audio was finished. Your body trembling with the aftershocks of an orgasm that had come despite the lack of actual stimulation of your clit, and you panted on your bed.
Opening your phone once again, you quickly liked the new audio and typed out your comment.
listen, i know i always comment about how fucking hot this shit is, but i have /never/ fucking soaked through my panties… you just did that and i expect a full refund for these panties 💦
You pressed send and, without so much of a second thought, continued your night. You had dinner, talked with friends, and ended the night curled back on the couch with a wine glass in your hand and a simple sit-com playing on the TV. The familiar sound of the Patreon alert rang in your ear, and you frowned, confused.
Grabbing your phone, you opened up the device and nearly shrieked at the sight of the information the notification that said:
Hawks F.W.: lets see those panties before i refund anything
A chill ran down your spine as you quickly put together the indications of this message, and you smirked, despite your quivering hands. 
Me: I have a seven inch dick requirement before seeing any of the goods — yes, that includes my panties
And from that very moment, you began a strange arrangement between you and the NSFW ASMR artist Hawks.
.
..
.
Working was the worst part of your life, you would say.
At work, you would sit in your small 4x4 cubicle, your shelves stacked with plenty of papers and items you needed, not to mention the computer that took up the majority of your desk. You weren’t quite sure what your job here was, you sort of sat at your desk and did meaningless assignments when assigned, but you did nothing for the most part. 
Before becoming an active Hawks stan, you would spend your time doing nothing playing video games. You had somehow managed to install a VPN onto your hard drive so that your employers wouldn’t be able to see what was on your screen outside of the home screen. They couldn’t trace what you did all day, but they could care less, given you got all your work completed on time and done in an over exceptional way.
But lately, since you had dropped into this… engrossed whore like relationship with Hawks, things changed. 
To be honest, it still shocks you to no end when he tells you that he had always been aware of you. Well, with your consistent, ever appearing comments on his posts and overall enthusiasm for everything he posted, it was hard to not be aware. The mental image of your soaked through panties after a long day at his own work had sent him over the edge, and he finally messaged you.
Through the DM’s in Patreon, the two of you grew to become quite the friends with benefits. He would send you countless personalized audio files because you had quickly confessed to your voice kink and how his voice sent your stomach into hormonal knots. In return, you’d send the picture of an occasional soaked panty, and if he was lucky, an audio clip of your pathetic whines back to his audios.
You couldn’t complain about this arrangement.
But as the number of his patrons doubled, and he wanted to entice his subscribers with paying him even more money, Hawks began to offer a bimonthly personalized five minute audios for his $20 tier. The fans poured into that spot, and Hawks and proudly sent you the new number of adoring fans he was getting. On account of growing platforms such as Tiktok, the number of new listeners he got was nearly exponential, as he currently passed one million followers last week. 
The cheeky bastard was also making enough money to stop working his regular work hours anymore. Choosing to transition slowly into his Patreon career while recording.
Hawks, however, seemed to have other ideas for your eventual personalized voice audio.
Hawks had simply asked if, by any chance, you were going to be working tomorrow the night before. Groaning loudly in recognition of your work schedule, you had texted him back that you were going to be working. Snidely including the fact that you weren’t rich like him, you needed the tedious old nine to five job.
Hawks: how utterly boring anyway u can b free around 2?
Me: Eh… probably not. Busy girl w busy schedule, ill be back from lunch so no break Why?
Hawks: well, u knw tht uve been amzing & th bst follower so i wanted 2 give u smthing better then the personalized audio
Me: Oh? Well, what is it?’
Hawks: pick up tmrw n find out
He had changed the subject immediately afterward by dodging all of your questions with ease. So you dropped it, and the two of you resumed a night of flirting. But now, sitting in your small cubicle, your eyes flashing to the clock that read 1:57 p.m., sweat began to build on your palm.
You peered down to your phone as you waited for something, anything from Hawks to show up. The fucker was too cheeky, evasive, and quick for his own good. You felt like pouting as you glared at the phone, waiting for the screen to light up.
And you stilled when finally, at precisely 1:59 p.m., your phone gleamed with light. You couldn’t abandon your computer mouse quicker than you did as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, and reading the message from Hawks.
Hawks: do u have earbuds?
Me: Yes?
Hawks: good put them on n pick up
The moment you had read the first message, you were already pulling out your earbuds, synching them up to your phone, and placing them into your ear. But your jaw dropped when, for the first time, the call feature highlighted onto the screen, the time immediately changing to that of 2:00 p.m. The decline or accept button had never looked as daunting as it did right now.
Despite the call trying to go through, you still saw his follow up.
Hawks: if u dont pick up u wont get shit
[Accept]
You felt your heart hammering in your chest as both fear, apprehension, and excitement boiled through your veins, the hammering blood pounding in your ears as you waited for some sort of noise on the opposite side of the line.
“Little dove?” Hawks' voices filled your ears, and despite yourself, you smiled softly. The naturalness of his voice sends warm thumps down your spine.
“Hi, Hawks,” you whisper breathlessly, your head already checking to make sure your neighboring cubicle mates didn’t try to look over the divisions to stare at you. For the most part, the office building was quiet except for the phone calls, the clanking of computer keys, and the monotonous music playing softly on the speaker's head. 
“Whatcha doing?” he drawled, and you felt your skin heat up when you heard the all too familiar sound of his shoes hitting the top of his desk, the soft whine of his chair as he leaned back onto it. “Are you really at work?”
“What do you mean, am I really at work?” you squeaked, half horrified at the way the lazy, warm heat of lust was infiltrating your body at the sound of his voice, and the annoyance that he thought you had been lying? “Of course I am; it’s two p.m. on a Wednesday!”
“Ah, so little dove-chan is a raging pervert who engages in phone sex to bypass her long hours at work?” Hawks sighed his tone that of understanding and dismissal. You splutter. “You never fail to surprise me.”
“I do not do… that!” you stammer, your face feeling like hot cinders, your fingers and eyes double-checking to make sure that the audio was going to your earbuds and your earbuds only. You also couldn’t help the way your eyes swept around you, trying to make sure you hadn’t accidentally invited unwanted attention. “I said I was busy!”
“But, you picked up my call?”
“You said, or else!”
“Mmm, okay, I think I see,” Hawks tutted, and although you had never seen what you supposed to be his handsome face, you could imagine a lazy, toothy smirk on his face. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind using your little cubicle to talk you into fucking yourself good for me.”
Your jaw drops.
It hits the desk, and the muffled shriek of utter humiliation is only silenced because you bit onto your tongue like a rabid animal.
“Aw, you sound so excited for me already, little dove. I bet you want to know what I’m going to do to you, don’t you? I just know that I’m going to make you feel so... good…”
“Hawks!” you plea in a hushed whisper, your heart hammering where you sat frozen like a deer in headlights. Sure, you had definitely played his audios before to pass the time, but never before in your existence had you had actual phone sex. This was riskier than just listening to his audios; his audios always had a pattern, a way to escape from the madness of his voice when people were closer than you’d like. But this? No, there was no escape. “I’m at work! I c-can’t!”
“But, fuck, I want you so bad,” Hawks' voice dipped into a gravely tone, his voice just perfectly scratchy enough that your shoulders trembled in unspoken, untouched want. “I want to feel your cunt around my cock, baby, your pussy is so hot and I want to be the fucking lucky bastard that gets to fuck you through your bed.”
“O-Oh my god…”
“I’ve been thinking of what your tits look like,” Hawks continues on, his voice continuing in the style you liked the most. It was raw, heavy, and deep. No character impersonations, just him, pure Hawks. “I hope they bounce the way they do when I imagine you riding me. I want to see you moan when I kiss the underside of your tit, I want to see your face when you realize that you’re my girl, nobody's else's, but mine.”
Heat floods your panties at his words, your shallow breaths making him chuckle on the other end. 
“You’d be so lucky to be just mine, wouldn’t you, little dove?” Hawks snaps, his voice demanding a response, and you heave.
You look around, no one is near, and you croak out: “I’d be so lucky.”
“Louder.”
“I’d be so lucky.”
“Mm, there we go,” Hawks laughs, and your ears prickle for any noise that may indicate that someone was listening in. “What? Are you getting nervous that your needy ass will be heard by your coworkers right now? Answer me.”
“Mhmm,” you hum loudly, your cunt pulsing with more incredible heat and your hands shaking with a slight fear of being caught.
“Aww, don’t worry, little dove. I’m sure your boss will understand that you’re my newest fucktoy and will let me continue. Maybe they’ll want to join in?”
You whimper softly, shifting in your seat at that thought. You didn’t really want your boss coming anywhere near you, he was old and gross for one, and nothing could take the place of this beautiful man's voice in your ear right now.
“Oh, was that a no? You don’t want other people fucking you, do you, y/n? I bet you only want to have my cock in your tight little pussy, bet you want to watch the way that greedy little thing sucks me in, begging for my seed. Would you want me to cum deep inside you? You would like that little dove; you’d like to be full of my cum.”
“H-Hawks,” you keen as quietly as you can, your hips shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your heart hammering in your throat. The pressing heat in your cunt is growing, your panties growing with wet slick as Hawks' voice whispers down your ear, filling every empty and void space in your brain until you were having trouble focusing on the very much public spot you were in.
Hawks let out a soft, guttural moan, and you froze, face entirely combusting into an inferno as the familiar slick slapping of his fapping cock filled your ear. Immediately, you forgot everything.
“A-Are you—?!” you splutter, unable to find the words or the energy to come up with a way to ask if he was masturbating right now. Your eyes spun, your mind in a complete haze as soft, raunchy moans spilled from his lips, striking against your nerves and soul with each successive sound.
“I’m only trying to help you out here, dove,” Hawks growled, undoubtedly in effect to a rather loud smack of his fist colliding with his thrusting hip. “You’re the little office slut who picked up a phone call to entice in phone sex. I bet you knew exactly what I was going to do, and your pathetic, needy whore self caved to my instructions.”
Your fingers curled into the armrest of your chair.
“I bet this makes your boring ass job tolerable, the perfect distraction to a shit job, then imagining a few minutes of fucking yourself against my hard cock.”
“That’s not true!”
“No?” Hawks laughed, not believing you any more than you did. “So you wouldn’t hate it if I showed up and fucked you into the wall of your cubicle? You wouldn’t mind if I claimed your sweet-smelling pussy against your desk for everyone to hear? I know you can scream like a bitch in heat. I know that pretty little cunt of yours would milk my cock dry. Oh, I just know you would look so fucking sexy with your back arched, eyes closed, and you begging for hours just to cum. You wouldn’t cum without my permission, right?”
You gasped, heart fluttering, hammering in your chest as you shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak.
“I need a verbal answer, little dove.”
The heat in your core was blistering, your thighs shaking with your unadulterated lust and need as you ground into the cushion of your chair. All logic and moral long gone as he snarled and moaned your name in your ear, the slick of his fapping cock echoing like a great bell in your ear. You wanted to hear him cum, wanted to listen to the pithering sound of his echoing moans as he spilled the contents of his balls onto his hand — and how you wished it was your womb.
“I won’t cum w-without your permission!” you whispered, your skin shivering with your fear of being caught. 
“God, you sound like such a dirty fucking bitch. I bet your pussy is fucking soaked already. Bet you really want to run that slutty embarrassed finger against your clit but don’t want to be caught by your perverted coworkers,” Hawks hissed, his breaths turning into steady, heavy hot pants. You mewl softly, confirming his spoken thoughts, and he huffs out a laugh. “How many fingers do you normally shove up that pretty cunt of yours, little dove?”
“T-Three!” you gasp, your forehead pressing to the cool of your desk, your eyes glazed over and looking at the entrance of your cubicle, fervently wishing that no one tries to check on you as you grind against your stable chair. “O-Only three fit.”
“Fuck, you really do have a tight cunt, don’t you,” Hawks snaps, the wet sounds of his fisting hand around his cock a beautiful melody in your ear that makes you whine at the back of your throat. “Bet you can’t even fit cocks up your cunt without lube, huh. You gotta stay on top, or else you’ll get hurt with how thick and long my cock will be up that baby pussy of yours.”
“H-Hawks!” you grit out, the friction of grinding on the seat no longer working.
“Go to the bathroom, now,” Hawks commands, the small gasps on his voice from his approaching orgasm more than enough ammo for you to do as told.
You sprint to the bathroom, the slick of your cunt hot, and evident to you as you sped to the bathroom. Your phone clenched in your hand as you locked the door behind you, glad the room was empty. Barely managing to get yourself into the stall, the toilet paper placed on the seat as you raised your legs up, already prepared. The skirt you wore was bunched above your ass, and the panties you wore, stretching out around your knees.
“Sounds like you’re ready to start fucking that pussy for me,” Hawks laughs, but there's no humor, just bite. “Put in three fingers, now.”
Without even arguing or caring, three fingers slip into your cunt, and you cry at the feeling of your fingers completely stretching you out. The smell of sex and slick filling your nose as your fingers slick up, fucking your tight cunt as you moan louder and louder for Hawks. 
“God, your fucking pussy is so fucking wet, I can hear it from here!” Hawks moans, the frantic sound of his drilling hips gaining speed and momentum. 
“I want it to be you!” you moan, your face burning in your humiliation. “I want it to be you fucking my pussy, claiming me in this bathroom. I need you, Hawks, I want your cock so badly!”
“Fuck,” Hawks gasps, something tumbling in the background. “Such sweet words for a fucking dirty ass cumslut,” he growls, and your legs shake, your clit and cunt thrumming with your increasing arousal and pit of tightness in your core. 
“HAWKS, FUCK!” you sob as your hips try to start a merciless speed against your fingers, your body trying to match the speed in which Hawks was fucking his own hand.
“Keep screaming my name, whore.” Hawks gasps, his noises of pleasure beginning to grow louder and louder, your eyes crossing in satisfaction. “Screaming my name like the fucking slutty mess you are. All this shit just to get me to fuck you? God, you’re so fucking pathetic y/n. Begging for me, begging for more? I think you’re my favorite little dove ever, gonna make you mine whenever I get to fuck that pussy.”
“Hawks!” you wail his name again, your arms and pussy throbbing with the energy it takes to keep up with his inhumane speeds. Your vision seeing stars as you tremble more and more, your legs slipping from the toilet seat, yet. “I am your whore, your little dove. Please let me come, please! You fuck me so well, fucking hell, please, I needa cum, I needa cum!”
“Cum with me,” he snaps, his voice so deep, so dangerously smooth. It was precisely what you needed, the voice kink you had for his tenor exactly fulfilled entirely with that simple, last command. And just like that, your jaw slackens, head slamming backward, and pleasurable waves crash through you.
Your fingers still rock at your clit, and your vice gripped walls, your toes curling within your shoes as you soundlessly scream. Hawks, on the other end, is practically snarling, voice deep and altogether dangerous as grunt after grunt leaves him, and you can imagine the milk-white cum splattered all over his chest and hand. A beautiful, perfect sight that you wish you could see for yourself.
Exhaustion settles in your bones as you sit on the toilet, still entirely exhausted as you heave for air. 
“I think that was the best fucking orgasm I ever had,” you mumble, your eyes closed, not ready to stand up and move. “Thank you.”
“I’m good at what I… at what I do,” Hawks stumbles, husky exhaustion ringing in his own voice. “Now, little dove, finish up work, and I promise there’ll be a surprise waiting for you when you’re done.”
Not entirely agreeing, but not disagreeing with his command to go finish you last… two and a half hours at work, you begrudgingly said goodbye to Hawks before washing your hands and exiting the bathroom.
When five o’clock came, you watched as your phone screen lit up, and your face flushed as you read the DM from Hawks.
Hawks: this is my fav audio now ↳ hawks_littledove.mp3 but you surprised me today, so in case u ever want to have more fun sometime  call me 03-9183-2495 ;)
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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years
Text
The Collaboration ~ OT7 [Request]
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WORD COUNT: 2.1K
GENRE: Fluffy, platonic, established friendship,
PAIRING: Platonic ot7 x Fem!Reader
A/N: I hope this is okay for you sweetheart! It’s been a while since I’ve tried to write ot7 so I hope you enjoy this
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The friendship that you had with the BTS boys was no secret, it had been public knowledge since the moment you meant them backstage at an award ceremony almost two years ago. One of your stylists had been recording you getting your hair and makeup done when there was a knock at the door and your manager walked in with them. It was hands down one of the best days of your life, even better than the day you signed your contract to become a singer and actress. The whole video consisted of you freaking out a little before finally coming down from the excitement and just talking with them. You'd been an ARMY for years so getting to meet them in person had been so surreal and then getting to call them all your friends was even more surreal to you. 
But the friendship was hugely publicised since you and BTS were both huge artists within the industry which meant a lot of articles were written about you and the boys together. Not all of the articles written about you both had been the nicest, some were and others were a lot worse. Some writing about how you were a nobody until it came to BTS. Some claiming you were dating one of the boys while others claimed that you were dating them all, which would be nearly impossible since you saw them as brothers and they saw you as a sister. Those ones happened to be your favourite to read but mostly because your fans and ARMY would be in the comments defending you or going along with it just to try and troll some people. There had been thousands of edits made to make it look as though you were dating which at first creeped you out and you made a statement about it which lead to less and less being made. It was nice to have that sort of vibe with your fans when they would actually listen to what was going on and what you did and did not like to see.
"The latest articles on us, have you read them?" You questioned Yoongi as you walked into his studio carrying two cups, one with your hot chocolate and another with coffee inside for Yoongi. You'd flown out to Korea for a break from your latest acting gig and decided to visit the boys while you had the chance to see them and actually spend some time together. Most of the boys were still working while you waited for them to go out to lunch with you, 
"What is it?" Yoongi chuckled taking the drink you were holding out for him as you brought up the article on your phone and sat down on the sofa behind you, the articles had begun the moment you touched down in Korea. It was going to take you a minute to be able to translate it all into Korean for him but you did your best, the Korean lessons with Namjoon and Jin were paying off really well.
"According to this one I'm using you guys for your fame, I'm only around you whenever I need to go up in fame points," You let out a small laugh at the thought of it. Were fame points even a thing? You continued to scroll through the website when went to the next one which instantly made you want to scream, Jimin walked into the room ready to tell you that he was ready for lunch when he saw the look on your face. It sent shivers up and down his back and made him feel like he was in trouble with you.
"You've got that murderous look on your face, Yoongi...What did you say?" Jimin questioned looking between you and Yoongi as he tried to figure out what could have been said to make you look this angry at something.
"Nothing...He didn't-" You mumbled as you scrolled through the article that was claiming that both of the fandoms were toxic together when it couldn't be further from the truth. Both fandoms were the sweetest you'd seen, ARMY had been so welcoming to you and your fans as well as vice versa. It honestly felt as though they were more like family members to one another than just random fans. You regularly found them defending one another whenever you went onto your personal Twitter account t update your fandom on things.
"A writer is claiming that our fandoms are the most toxic ones out there..." You mumbled as you brought up your keyboard and began getting ready to type out something on your page, you knew you were supposed to rise above things and if it had been about you you would have done. But since it was about people you scared about you had to take the matter into your own hands, 
@Y/NOfficial: Thank you to all of you that are always trying to be kind and treat everyone nicely. It's refreshing to see all of you act on behalf of me and other people on this app. You're always so kind and caring and I love to see it.
Along with it, you attached a photo of you with the boys from the night you arrived in Korea so that people would know what you were indirectly tweeting about and just like that people were coming to add smirking emojis or to start laughing about what it was you were actually talking about. 
"We should do something..." You muttered as you looked back at Yoongi and Jimin ideas filling your head within seconds. A collabortation between you and the boys had been in talk for a while but neither of your managers had come together to put the plan into action.
"What are you thinking?" Jimin quizzed as he sat himself down next to you looking over at your phone to see what you had just sent out.  
"We've spoken about it, Yoongi and I both have song ideas we've been working on..." Yoongi turned to look at you from his chair as he nodded along to what you were saying instantly knowing what you were talking about. There was a huge folder on his laptop dedicated to the work you'd both been doing together both long-distance and in person.
"I still have it all saved on my laptop if you want to take a look at it all." The statement was directed in Jimin's direction as you both waited for him to say something to it,
"Sure...What have you been working on?" He moved closer to Yoongi to take a look over everything and you smiled. The things you and Yoongi had been putting together were a backing track with some melodies and adlibs you'd both been doing overtime. It was far from being done but it was better than having nothing to go off, all you needed to do was get the okay from both of your managers and the rest of the boys. 
"I've been working on a rap part for Hoseok and Namjoon and Y/n has been writing her own lyrics for her parts," Yoongi mumbled as you grabbed a spare chair to sit down next to him with. Hitting play he let the melody and your rough lyrics fill the air of his small studio.
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The collaboration had been amazing, the song was one of your best works in your opinion and the videos were shot and ready to be released at a moments notice. Teasers had been being released all month between your account and the BTS one but neither of the fandoms had put it together that this would be some kind of collaboration. The teasers for the songs had been dramatically different from one another, Yoongi changing the melodies on his and yours just so that nobody would be able to place that they were the same track. Your Twitter had been focussing on releasing your parts in the video with your words and then the boy's parts only being theirs. The fans had no idea but there were a select few that had pieced it together bit by bit and were starting to realise what was happening but no one else seemed to piece it together. 
"It's almost midnight," You said over the call to the boys, all of them were sitting on skype with you as they waited inside Hoseok's studio this time. They were all sitting on the sofa in his room watching the countdown on one of the monitors, the plan was to release the music videos at the same time and wait to see what would happen with the fandoms.
"We've worked so hard for this," Namjoon chuckled as he handed all of the boys a small drink each to celebrate with, you had your own glass of wine to drink while you waited as well. Jungkook cleared his throat as he got up to give a small speech about how much he'd enjoyed working with you.
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"You guys worked so great, I don't know how I'll thank you enough." You whispered as you looked at each of them through the screen feeling an overwhelming urge to cry as you thought about how close you'd all grown as a friendship group. This time it was your turn to get a sappy speech but the countdowns began and you smirked looking at the titles, both the same song and video on each channel but the boys had their title while yours was left as. Y/n Y/L/N ???? For a little extra surprise to the fans. Taehyung began counting down from one minute and thirty seconds and the rest of you began to join in with him.
"5...4...3...2...1," The iconic BigHit entertainment logo and intro filled the speakers in your room and you let out a small squeal at the thought of it finally being live after the months of working on it. The boys cheered as the music started and Jin opened up the song for you all walking around their dorms on the screen.  
"I'm going to check Twitter!" You yelled out as you brought out your phone to see all of the different reactions that were coming out from the video. Mostly people freaking out thinking Youtube had crashed and placed both videos onto the channel until your line came up. In the music video, you walked onto the set and began singing through your part of the song as if it was casual. The video idea had been that it was just supposed to be a casual setting at the dorms and you randomly walked through the front door and sat with them while singing. The song was about friendship, which wasn't like a lot of songs any of you had written before but it felt like it needed to be said. That people could be friends or more like family members without having to hate one another or have everyone assume that they were dating. It was mostly a huge slap in the face to all the media outlets claiming that you couldn't be friends with the guys because they were...well guys.
"THE COLLAB OF A LIFETIME!" Someone had tweeted out with your retweet of the music video link, you smirked reading through everything that was on the screen, your whole dash refreshing itself every two seconds. Everyone seemed to be loving the fact that you had decided to finally collaborate with the boys, 
"They love it," You giggled as you sipped on your glass of wine in celebration of the song coming out, cheering along with the boys.
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The night continued on as you waited for people to react to it until you decided to go live on Instagram. The boys were all gone now so you wanted to see what everyone was thinking of it now so you set your phone up on your desk and got ready to read through everything.
"I can't wait to see your reaction videos tomorrow, you guys know I watch all of them." You laughed softly as you stared into the small screen of your phone reading through the thousands of comments that were flying through. Play with your hair if this was because of the article about you using the boys for fame. #Y/nandBTSTakeOver You smirked to yourself before playing with the ends of your hair and winking into the camera, going back to answering more questions from your fans and ARMY wanting them to know how the collaboration had come to be and if there would be more work with them in the future.
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Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @rjsmochii​ @bisexualmess007​ @innersooya​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​
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fangirlshrewt97 · 3 years
Text
The Early Bird Gets the Kiss (Not the Water Bucket)
Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Pairing: Joe x Nicky
Read on AO3
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Joe did not even stir when Nicky flung the curtains open, letting in the bright Mediterranean sunshine. Unclasping the window allowed the breeze to gently drift into the bedroom, accompanied faintly by the sounds of humanity from the streets below. They had spent yesterday recovering from the jet lag of travelling from Santiago to Granada, but Nicky was determined to visit the Alcaiceria today.
Moving towards the bed, Nicky sat down softly. Joe had since curled into Nicky’s spot from where he had left him on the other side of the bed this morning. Reaching out, Nicky gently ran his fingers through Joe’s thick curls, taking care not to tug on them. Joe let out a pleased sound and stretched his neck, seeking more of the affection Nicky was only too happy to give. Nicky spent some minutes just sitting there, petting Joe’s hair, until the sound of something breaking elsewhere in the house brought him back to Earth. Hopefully that was Nile and not the stray cat she had brought in last night. They had promised Nile they’d show her around the city, since it was her first time here. The girl had been excited enough to promise to wake up early for them, as Nicky had said the market could be enjoyed best in the morning before it got too crowded. It was only fair Joe got up too.
Leaning down, Nicky placed a gentle kiss on top of the light wrinkles next to Joe’s eyes. They were one of Nicky’s favorite parts of Joe, evidence of a first life so filled with joy the lines had etched themselves onto his beloved’s face for a thousand years.
“mmmhmmm” Joe slurred as he turned his head to bury himself deeper into the pillow. Huffing a laugh, Nicky kept kissing the patches of skin he could reach, moving from cheek to forehead to neck to the back of Joe’s ear. “-olo….”
“Buono giorno, ya amar. Time to get up.” Nicky whispered to Joe.
“mmmhhhmmmm. Five minutes.”
Nicky laughed. “As if it’s ever five minutes with you Joe.”
“Three minutes.”
Shoulders shaking with withheld laughter, Nicky gently pressed his hand more firmly into Joe’s hair, squeezing the curls once.
“Colo!” Joe sleep-shouted.
“Up, Joe!”
“Three minutes. Promise.” Joe said, face scrunched up as he fought to keep his eyes closed.
Sighing, Nicky released his hold on Joe’s hair, ignoring the whine from his husband as he got up and opened their bags. If Joe was going to insist on delaying in bed, and he always did, might as well set every thing out for him to save the time later. Once he had laid out the short-sleeved button up and jeans, as well as Joe’s favorite baseball cap, he removed Joe’s toiletries, setting them up in their bathroom with a spare towel from the closet.
When he went back to their bedroom, as expected, Joe was still cocooned into his blankets, face half buried. Shaking his head, Nicky went to Joe, placing one hand on his hip. He shook it quickly, shaking Joe with it till Joe let out a long whine. “Colo. You’re so mean.”
“Three minutes are up hayati. I’ve set up everything you need, let’s go.”
Joe remained still under his touch for another moment before he began wiggling. Nicky stood back as Joe untangled himself from the blankets and sat up, leaning against the headboard. He let out a long yawn, one hand lazily rubbing the crust from his eyes. Finally, Joe opened his beautiful obsidian eyes, shining as always with love and life. “Good morning, my love.”
Nicky snorted, shaking his head when Joe held out a hand. “Yes, great morning, it only took me half an hour to wake you up instead of the usual hour. Get up.”
Joe arranged his face into a big pout, bottom lip jutting out as his eyes blinked rapidly. Nicky merely raised an eyebrow at him, refusing to be charmed today. “No. Get up.”
“So cruel to me Nicky. You wound me so early in the day.” Joe exclaimed, dramatically clutching at his heart with one hand while his other arm covered his eyes.
“You better not make me repeat myself Joe.”
Joe peeked one eye out from beneath his arm. “Or?”
“Or I will make you get up this early every day we are here.” Nicky threatened.
Joe gasped, before sticking his tongue out at him.
Nicky rolled his eyes. “It’s not even that early!”
“It’s 7:00 in the morning!”
Nicky raised an eyebrow at him. “Exactly.”
Joe tipped his head back till it hit the wall. “Fine.”
A small smile appeared on Nicky’s face. He leaned to pat Joe’s ankle. “Good. Get up. Nile seems ready to climb the walls out of excitement to see the Alhambra and I do not know how long I will be able to keep her from coming in to deal with you herself.”
Joe sighed, shoulders slumping. “Ok.”
Nodding, Nicky gestured at the chair next to the window. “Your clothes are in the chair, and I’ve already left a towel for you in the bathroom.”
Joe hummed in acknowledgement.
Nicky turned back, placing one hand on his waist. “I swear Joe, if you are not ready in twenty minutes, I will allow Nile to throw a bucket of cold water on you anyways.”
Joe laughed, knowing an empty threat when he heard it. Well. 80% sure it was an empty threat. “Of course.”
Nicky gave him one last look before turning around to leave the room, when Joe’s arm shot out to grab his wrist. Nicky yelped as he nearly went sprawling on the floor. “Joe!”
Once upright, he glared at his husband, only to be met with a sheepish expression. “Sorry.”
“What is it?” Nicky asked, the slightest irritation seeping into his voice.
“You forgot something.” Joe said, as he knelt on the bed to be at eye level with him.
Nicky’s brows furrowed as he ran through a mental checklist. “No I didn’t.”
Joe shook his head. “No, you definitely did.”
Huffing, Nicky asked, “What did I forget?”
Smiling wide enough to hurt his cheeks, Joe cupped Nicky’s face with both hands. “This.”
He leaned in to press a long kiss to Nicky’s lips, filled with so much love that Nicky melted, body tipping forward till it collided with Joe’s who effortlessly maneuvered an arm to wrap around Nicky’s waist. When they parted, they stayed, foreheads pressed together.
“I love you Nicky.” Joe said, before adding impishly, “Even when you forget to kiss me properly in the morning.”
Nicky felt heat painting his cheeks red, but bit his lip. “You are so ridiculous. Go shower.”
Joe nuzzled nose against Nicky’s. “You’re forgiven, even if you haven’t told me you love me.”
Now it was Nicky’s turn to sigh dramatically. He pushed himself away, and schooled his face into as stern a look as he could manage. “Ok enough, get ready, or both Nile and I will throw cold water on you.”
Laughing, Joe nodded. “Yes Nicky.”
Nicky waited till Joe got distracted to dart in to press one last kiss against Joe’s lips.  Nicky exited the bedroom with a pleased look on his face.
Now to see if Nile was awake. And check if the damned cat had finally managed to break the ugly flower vase Andy had bought thirty years ago.
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Text
Movie Night, Pillow Fight [Version 2]
By: SassyShoulderAngel319
Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood
Rating: PG-13/T (maybe pushing M? but there’s still nothing super explicit. this is just a lot dirtier than I usually write holy cannoli. Heavy kissing, a little bit of suggestive dialogue and narration, minor swearing?)
Original Idea: This (V1 follows this idea a lot more than this one, which I spun off of about halfway through and did my own thing)
Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I didn’t think this would be as long as Version 1. I was wrong. This one is ~200 words longer, at 3,491. Version 1 here. They start the exact same but change about halfway through. I wrote both of these two over the course of 1 day by the way, and refuse to pick a favorite. @welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad
^^^^^
“No, Bruce,” Jason said sharply into his phone as he grabbed his motorcycle helmet. “I’ve already told you a hundred times: Tuesdays are my day off. Unless it’s a Court-of-Owls-attacking-All-Hands-On-Deck emergency, I’m not going on patrol. I’m allowed one night off per week. And I have plans. It’s weekly movie night with a friend of mine. We’ve been doing movie night since college and I refuse to disappoint her. You know why I chose Tuesdays? Because Gotham’s crime rate is lowest. You’ll be fine without me.” He hung up before Bruce could reply.
I opened the door. “You’re late,” I said.
“Yeah. I had to go to two different stores to find your popcorn because they were out at the first one,” Jason replied, letting himself in and dropping his motorcycle helmet on my couch. “Let me go change into my sweats.” He pulled his grey sweatpants out of his backpack, two microwave popcorn bags falling out.
I grabbed them. “Thanks Jay,” I said playfully.
He gave me a brief hug before stepping past me to my bathroom. “The things I do for you,” he teased with a sigh.
“Get out of those jeans. You know they aren’t allowed,” I retorted before going over to the microwave. My bathroom door shut loudly. I boosted myself onto the counter and watched the popcorn spin in the microwave.
By the time Jason emerged from the bathroom, only one bag was done. He leaned against the counter next to me, arms folded, and joined my staring.
“So what movie did you bring?” I asked. “You said in your text it was one of your favorites.”
He beamed at me. “Well, my friend, we are watching the very first ever made Frankenstein. From nineteen-thirty-one.” He fixed me with a stare as my shoulders slouched. “Don’t you start moaning in complaint. You put me through watching that awful musical last week—”
“Excuse you, Phantom of the Opera is also a classic.”
“It’s basic.”
“You’re basic.”
“Maybe so, but after going through that ordeal, you promised we could watch one of my favorites. I managed not to fall asleep last week, so it’s my turn.” He stuck his tongue out at me, then shook his head. “I really need to refine your taste in theatre. Remind me to convince Bruce to give me his season tickets to the real opera. He never uses them anyway. Doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”
Given Bruce’s parents were shot after leaving the opera, I imagined there was some childhood trauma there. I didn’t bring it up with Jason. We didn’t talk about family besides passing comments on movie nights.
When the second bag of popcorn was finished popping and put in its own large bowl—I had quite the collection of popcorn bowls, usually given to me—we went to my room.
Ever since we’d graduated college—two years ago—we’d had movie night in my bed, rather than on the couch, like we’d done in my dorm. The bed was comfier and gave us more room to spread out. I can’t even remember who suggested it, but it was probably me one week when I was sick or something and we’d just stayed that way ever since.
I’d always hosted too. In college it was because my roommate was never there, and now Jason just liked the escape from his family. They didn’t know where I lived, so the one time he hosted and they interrupted by coming over, he and I agreed we’d just have it at my place. I liked his brothers and sister well enough, but they’d ruined that movie night. I doubted Wayne Manor movie nights ever involved any movies no one had seen before—because everyone talked and yelled at each other too much to actually pay attention to the movie.
Jason put the DVD in the player in my room. “Prepare to be wowed,” he said.
“I’m prepared, trust me,” I replied flatly.
“Heeey,” Jason’s voice said softly. “Wake up, doofus.”
I blinked my eyes open blearily. “Wha…?”
He started chuckling. “You fell asleep about halfway through.”
“Duh. It was boring. What did you expect for a casual movie fan from this century watching something from nineteen-thirty-one?”
“Well, all that means is that we get to rewatch it—from the beginning—next week!” Jason declared. I frowned. “Don’t you pout at me. Those have been the official movie night rules since our freshman year of college.”
“That’s not true,” I said, pulling out my phone. I dug deep into the Google Docs on my phone for Movie Night Rules from our freshman year of college. Six years was a long way to scroll through, but eventually I found it. I opened the doc and scanned the rules. “Oh, buzz off,” I muttered, poking Jason in the side.
“No poking!” He lurched away. Jason was selectively ticklish. Sometimes I would poke him in the side and he’d jump, other times he wouldn’t even notice I touched him. And he swapped between the two randomly.
“Why didn’t you wake me up like two minutes after I fell asleep?”
Jason pursed his lips, trying not to smile. “I thought about it. But you looked so cute—” He pinched my cheek and I was reminded of the fact that he had the personality traits of an eighty-year-old grandmother. “—with your hair all messy and your cheeks all squished that I just couldn’t.” He laughed as I batted his hand away from my face. I poked him again. “No poking!”
“Then don’t tease.”
“I have a right to tease you. Look at my shirt! You drooled all over it.”
I grabbed the hem of it and pulled it up. “Let me throw it in the wash, then.”
I expected him to smack my hand away and shove the shirt back down over his torso, but to my surprise, he helped me take it off. I’d seen him shirtless too many times to bother staring at his remarkably muscular torso. I just climbed out of my bed and went to the small closet out in the hall that held my tiny washer and dryer. I threw his shirt in the washer, dumped a bit of detergent in, and got it started before going back to my room.
“Take that off! You’ll stretch it out!” I snapped.
Jason struggled to get one of my—much smaller—T-shirts from college off. I scoffed and helped him yank it over his head before throwing one my pajama shirts at him. I wore my dad’s old T-shirts to sleep in, so it was even big on Jason. “You could have just asked for a replacement and I’d have handed you this.”
“That’s not as fun as surprising you,” he joked.
I rolled my eyes and perched back on the bed. “Fine. Next week, we rewatch Frankenstein. I won’t fall asleep. But you’re bringing snacks again.”
“Of course.”
“And don’t forget the popcorn.”
“Doofus, if I forgot the popcorn, you wouldn’t let me through the door.”
I snickered. “True enough.”
Jason leaned over to set his popcorn bowl on the bedside table closest to him. “Maybe next week we should try this on the couch. I always feel bad about getting popcorn on your sheets—and then you won’t be so comfortable that you fall asleep.”
I grabbed a pillow and whacked him in the chest. His expression turned affronted.
“Did you just initiate a pillow fight?” he demanded.
“No,” I retorted. “I got payback for you insulting me.” I whacked him again. “That was me initiating a pillow fight.” I started flinging the pillow at him again and again.
“Hey! Not fair!” Jason protested. “I’m unarmed!”
I ignored him and kept up my pillow smacking.
He laughed. “Well, if you’re going to play dirty, I will too.” He reached out as my pillow hit him again and he wrangled it from me. “A-ha! Look at that! Got your ammo. How does it feel, to be attacked by your own pillow?”
Jason started smacking me with it. I squealed and blocked him as best I could with my arms. We were both laughing as I tried to reach around him to the pillow he’d been using to brace his back against my headboard. He grabbed my wrist with one hand and hit me with the pillow using the other. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m not going easy on you just because you’re adorable.”
I laughed as he nearly hit me hard enough to knock me off the bed.
So, I switched tactics.
Getting inside his much longer reach was the hard part. Once I managed to duck around his arms and wrench my wrist free, I started tickling him. Tonight was a ticklish night. He squirmed away from me.
Jason yowled—and I hoped my neighbors weren’t home—in laughter. “Stop it—stop tickling!”
I didn’t. I ran my wiggling fingers up his sides and across his neck. He tried to catch my hands, but I was quick enough to evade him.
For a few moments anyway.
“No. No!” His protests didn’t work on me. “Oh you’re as bad as my brothers. Stop it—stop it.” His voice went firm, all traces of laughter gone. With one quick movement, the pillow we’d attacked each other with was discarded on the floor. He grabbed my ankles and pulled me so I was lying flat in the center of the bed.
Jason straddled my waist, trapping my lower legs with his ankles and pinning both my hands above my head on the mattress. He was breathing hard. We both were.
He smiled. “There. Not so feisty now, are you? Hands pinned above your head, lying beneath me all… helpless.” He chuckled and licked his lower lip, his smile turning both playful and wicked. “I could have… any kind of revenge I want.” He bent his elbows, lowering himself over me. My breathing grew shorter and blood roared in my ears. “I can have any…” He paused, eyes flicking from mine to where my necklace charm had fallen down one side and landed on the mattress. His eyes widened, as if he seemed to just barely realize how close we were. “This is…” His elbows straightened, pushing him higher above me. “I’m… sorry.” He started to gently pick his way off of me. “I’m gonna let you go now.”
He released his grip on my wrists. I rolled them and flexed my hands to get some feeling back into them.
He swung his leg to get off me and used it to step off the bed. “I should go,” he said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry. I’ll grab my T-shirt next week.” He strode to the door of my bedroom while I sat on the bed, dumbfounded, jaw hanging open.
As he opened the door, I bounded off the bed.
I caught him before he could reach for his stuff on my couch, grabbing his wrist. “What was that about?” I demanded. He refused to turn and look at me.
“Just… let it go,” he said, shaking his head. He tried to pull his wrist out of my hand, but I grabbed it with my other one to hold him in both.
“No! What the hell is going on with you?”
“Leave it alone,” he growled out.
“I can’t! What happened in there that made you shut down? What did I do wrong?”
He whirled. “It’s nothing to do with you. It’s me!”
“Then tell me what it is!” I shouted.
Jason grabbed me by the shoulders, wrenching out of my grip so hard my fingers ached. He spun me around and pinned me by the shoulders against my front door. A muscle worked in his jaw as he clenched it before fixing me with a crystal blue stare. “It’s just… seeing you beneath me—all flushed pink and panting, your eyes hooded and staring up at me… seeing you like that… I just felt myself fall in love with you!”
If he hadn’t pinned me against the door I probably would have fallen over from shock. My mouth definitely fell open. “Jay… I…” I breathed.
Still holding my shoulders, he spun me around so I was away from the front door and moved to shove his jeans into his backpack.
Before he could, I threw reservation to the wind.
I grabbed his shoulders, forced him to turn and face me, moved my hands to the back of his head, and pulled him down to kiss me.
Our mouths crashed together hard enough to make my front teeth ache, but I didn’t care. My heart leapt into my throat and I almost melted as his arms circled my waist, pulling me closer, so our torsos were pressed against each other. My eyelids closed as I sighed. We were both breathing hard, air from our noses warm against each other’s skin. Holding my waist in both arms, he turned and pinned my back against the door again.
“Oh, God…” Jason breathed against my lips. He kissed me again and I moaned. He reached one hand up and tangled it in my hair. He could palm the back of my skull as though it were a basketball. His fingers were warm against my scalp.
When he pulled his lips away from me, I groaned quietly in complaint.
“We—we should not be doing this,” he whispered, shaking his head. The white streak at the front of his hairline flopped back and forth with the movement. I wanted to reach my fingers up and twist that streak between them. But I didn’t.
“Why not?” I replied, just as breathless.
“We’re friends. This isn’t us.”
“You just said that you just barely fell in love with me.”
“I did. But I’m not willing to ruin the good thing we’ve had going on here for six years.” He panted, shoulders heaving up and down, as he reached up and took my hands away from his face, gently dragging them by the wrists. “You’ve been the best friend I’ve been able to keep longer than a year or two. I can’t… I can’t just… this isn’t about what I want.”
“I’m the one who kissed you,” I pointed out. “What does that say about what I want?”
“It’s not just about wants,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Us being together is dangerous? To whom?”
“To you.”
“Why would it be dangerous for me?” I pushed.
He let me go and spun away from me. He looked like he wanted to shout and rage—maybe throw something—but he just clenched his fists and panted.
When he finally turned back to face me, he’d calmed down a little. “It’s dangerous… because… I… oh, Bruce is gonna kill me…” he whispered, shaking his head again. “Because I… am… the Red Hood.”
Two big confessions in one night. I felt a little dizzy and remembered to breathe.
“Red Hood. As in… the vigilante. And… the crime boss.”
“Vigilante, yes. Crime boss days are behind me. I was newly-back-from-the-dead and not in a stable mindset when I became a crime boss.” I decided not to ask about that. He huffed and sat on my coffee table, instead of the sofa, rubbing his temples. “And I wasn’t going to tell you about it, by the way. You’re the only normal friend I have right now. But it’s too dangerous for us to be together. If any of the rogues in this city knew I had someone I cared about as much as I care about—as much as I love you… you would not survive to the end of the year.”
I crossed from the front door to the sofa and sat on the sofa cushion closest to him, setting my hand on his knee. “Jay, I… I’m willing to risk it. To be with you. We just need to be careful—”
“I’m not willing to lose you. I would have been terrified before tonight if someone worse than me caught you. Knew you were just a friend. Now, though? Now, I don’t know what I’d do if you were captured, and that scares me even more. I saw you under me in that bedroom and I saw a future that was good—for the first time in the nine years since I was resurrected—but I can’t let that be my future. For your sake.”
I bit down on my tongue to keep from shouting. But I did tighten my grip on his knee hard and snap, “Get over yourself, Todd. You’re not the only one who gets to make this decision.”
“No, but apparently I’m the only one who can see things objectively enough to make the wise decision.”
It was my turn to want to throw something. “Jason. Peter. Todd. I don’t care about the danger. And I know you do. But do you know what it’d do to me, knowing that you love me and I feel the same, but you won’t let me be yours? Do you know what it would do to you? I know what it would do to me. It would eat me up inside day in and day out. I would sit here dying for you, waiting for you to come to your senses and carry me back into that bedroom to stay in there all night. But you never would. And I would just wait. I’d never date anyone else. If I tried, all I’d be doing was wishing they were you.
“You and I are cut from the same cloth. Some people are just born to sacrifice. To give up what they want—what they need—for the sake of other people. It’s the only choice we’re ever given, so it’s the choice we make over and over and over again. Sometimes people will split others into Givers and Takers. Those of us born to sacrifice are a step beyond even Givers. We’re the ones who give up everything for others. I’ve done it with my family my entire life. Everyone else always wanted so strongly that my only option was to give up my own. You’re the same, I see it every time I see you with your brothers.
“Jason, it’s time for us to Take. It’s time to let life give us something. This is the moment to be selfish. To put aside Batman and his zealous crusade for one damn moment and let yourself be happy.” I dug my fingernails into his knee through his sweats. “Be selfish for once, Jason.”
He finally looked up at me, eyes meeting mine. “I can’t,” he said.
I clamped my mouth shut and sighed loudly through them. “Yes, you can. If you’re waiting for my consent, you’ve more than got it. I’m telling you now to give yourself consent to want. To take. Get over this hold out that a double life has on you and—mmph!”
He cut me off by slamming his lips against mine, surging off the coffee table and straddling me on the sofa. I moaned and wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled me to one side, sitting on the sofa and guiding me to straddle himself. His hands were splayed over my shoulder blades. I twisted his white streak through my fingers. Our breath shuddered in and out of our lungs. I parted my lips slightly and ran the tip of my tongue over the seam of his lips.
They opened immediately and let me in. I sighed out my nose. “Please ruin our friendship,” I breathed into his lips. “This is so much better.”
He snickered out his nose, smiling. “Does your consent to let me want you include me carrying you back into that bedroom and neither of us leaving until dawn?” He nodded toward my room.
My body shivered. Not from cold. Excitement. Electricity.
“Definitely,” I said breathlessly.
His hands slid from my shoulder blades and down to my legs. He held them and stood up. I hooked my ankles around his back, locking my arms’ grip around his neck.
He carried me to my room, kicked the door shut, and laid me gently on the messed-up bedsheets and disarrayed pillows. On all fours above me, my legs around his waist, he kissed me. Gently, at first, but he quickly grew hungry. His hands worked their way under my shirt, callused palms scraping slightly against my skin.
“Still okay with this?” His voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.
“Oh yeah,” I breathed, unable to even speak loud enough to be heard from inches away.
He smiled. Wicked delight flickering on his face. “Well, get ready for me to call you mine. Because I am all yours.”
I smiled. “I’m yours, Jason.”
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johannesviii · 4 years
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This is a long post about Shaman King I started to write ages ago and I don’t have a good title for it
Let me tell you about Shaman King for a few minutes, okay. Because the new anime adaptation is coming in like 3 months and I’m still not ready for it. Also I started to write this post 5 years ago just because I re-read the whole thing at the time and it’s been in my drafts since then. Oops
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But yeah Shaman King was the very first fandom I got into when I first had a real internet access, around 2003-2004. I was around fifteen. The manga was still going. And in retrospect, it was full of problems. Among other things:
Not enough female characters & questionable choices for most of the ones who actually have a part to play in the plot
A black character drawn with big lips (see above), and I REALLY HOPE this is gonna get fixed in the new anime ; I mean even the author stopped drawing him like that a few years ago when he did the “remix tracks” extra chapters so come on please
An imaginary native american tribe who, while pretty cool, is still imagined by a Japanese dude in 1999 soooo yeah there’s some rough corners here and there (edit: got some anon hate about that but I'm sorry, "ancient aliens" tropes always make me uncomfortable)
An art quality which gets worse and worse over time due to deadline pressures and an increasingly exhausted author
Was stopped before it could reach its natural conclusion (the author drew an actual ending years later and tbh it’s great so I’m putting this very low on the list)
So yeah. Manga from 1999. Problematic. Aged badly. It happens.
BUT.
In retrospect, most of it is such a kick in the metaphorical butt of shonen manga as a whole I can’t believe it was competing against Naruto and One Piece at some point?? Like
It’s a shonen so it plays the "dramatic and sudden power jump” game, but it uses it to reach a surprising conclusion (in the “new” ending I mean)
Most of the characters are “shamans” which means they can see ghosts and spirits, and they use them to fight, to work, or to help other people. This is a manga in which you’re gonna see a Russian shaman channeling a Vodyanoy spirit into a drum to create a torrential flood. You don’t see that in every manga
It’s stated right away that no shaman can be truely, irredeemably bad, because only good-natured people can see ghosts and spirits.
So, no matter how bad a villain may be, they must have had a good nature once even if they look like a complete bastard at the moment.
How far is the author willing to go with that concept? Pretty far
Even without talking about the main villain and how the story ends because, duh, spoilers... Like
My favorite character, who gets a full redemption arc later, cuts someone open in his first chapter
He’s one of the good guys 10 volumes later
Speaking of which the amount of gore in this manga has to be seen to be believed, Jump would never let this happen nowadays
If you’re wondering why this is in the “positive” (......?) list it’s because I was 14/15 and all kids that age crave blood and angst
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The main character, Yoh, pictured above, is very laid-back, and I mean very. He listens to the in-world equivalent of Bob Marley and constantly wears big headphones. Also he wears sandals, and sometimes there’s a weed leaf drawn on his t-shirt
His parents arranged a mariage between him and a girl shaman even though they’re still teenagers, so this would have potential for High Drama - but surprisingly enough it turns out they like each other and after that he just goes around saying “this is my future wife” and she’s like “hello if you touch him I’m going to end you”
It sounds weird and it......... is, tbh, but it’s also refreshing among all the “ugh, girls, yuck” tropes that nearly all shonen mangas used to have at the time
Yoh’s main goal in life is to live with minimal effort
When his grandfather tells him he must train to participate in a shaman tournament which happens every 500 years, because the winner gets a wish granted by the Great Spirit, he decides his wish will be to make everybody’s life easy so that nobody will ever be forced to work or do shit they don’t want to do to survive anymore
Yoh Asakura is a Millenial icon don’t @ me
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Speaking of which
Almost everyone in this series is broke as f█ck
Yoh owns a big house but that’s only because the price was ridiculously low since it’s the most haunted place in Tokyo and nobody else wants to live there. The house is constantly full of other characters (including enemies) who have literally nowhere else to go
The only important character who isn’t broke has money because his family is super rich but he hates all of them because they’re all bastards so it’s super awkward
Another character bought a really cool motorbike but he’s going to be in debt for the next 40 years
Also he’s a hobo
And also bi
What I’m trying to say is: relatable
Also the tournament is held by an imaginary Native American tribe. They’re also broke. All of them. The two judges who are in charge of the main characters live in a cramped appartment and often try to sell souvenirs in the street to pay the rent
I know that’s hashtag problematic but I still love them I can’t help it
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Just like in most shonen mangas the hero seems to amass a big collection of Friends but since everyone is a weirdo in a way or another and comes from all over the world it looks even funnier
At some point during the tournament, the main characters have to form small groups of three in order to participate to the next part. Yoh’s team is one of the strongest teams among the ones we’ve met at this point, and is composed of 1) Yoh, a laid-back sleepy kid wearing toilet sandals 2) the aforementioned bi hobo who’s sad because his current crush is in a rival team, and 3) a thirty-something tatooed guy with no legs and an IV drip and who looks like he hasn’t slept since 1997
Oh and they all wear adds for a bath house
Because remember: everyone’s f█cking broke
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Spoilers for the mid-point of the manga but I need to talk about it because it encapsulates everything I used to love in it
You’ve been warned
So
At some point the main character, Yoh, is asked to choose between staying in the tournament or resurrect his rival
This is framed as some kind of very heavy, very huge dilemma. Like oh no what will he do. Will he give up his dreams and hopes. Will You Push The Button(tm)
So the choice is presented to him
In a very dramatic way
And he immediately goes “there’s a way to save him?? YES PLEASE”
He doesn’t hesitate a single second and drops the tournament in a heartbeat to save the guy
This scene greatly contributed to make me a better person I’m not even joking at all
I love Yoh
So anyway I don’t have a proper conclusion for this
Shaman King is very flawed and its flaws need to be acknowledged to fully appreciate all the good things in it, and the “old” fandom from more than 15 years ago was a very good formative experience for me because the forum I was on (which was nuked from the face of the internet by a hacker “looking for training grounds” (his words not mine, he posted it on our frontpage a full week before he did it) in 2005, rip) was full of people who were really into criticising every little aspect of the manga but still loved it dearly
And I think that’s a healthy way to enjoy things and I think we should bring this back
Anyway
Shaman King extremely flawed but full of good things
I still can’t believe it’s back
Johannes out
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U obviously don't understand the multi verse idea kiddo. its speculation on mephisto from a 3 min trailer which makes sense (IF U HAVE READ THE COMIC'S. OBVIOUSLY U DIDN'T) on top of that saying people a hyped about the billings from 20 years ago of course !!!! They grew up on them kid ITS A MULTI- VERSE they ! Can be different versions of the villians too so they won't destroy the characters from 17 years ago kid
 First of all I’m thirty goddam years old so who the Hell are you calling a ‘kid’, son?
Second of all I’ve been a Spider-Man fan for at least 25 of those years and a comic book fan for about 20 of them.
During that time I even worked for a British publisher as an image researcher for officially licensed Marvel and DC guidebooks. Whilst working there the higher up editors on occasion came directly to me specifically to explain or proofread various confusing pieces of comic book lore to them (and on occasion write scant pieces of copy for the books). This included who various characters were in the Spider-Verse arc, a storyline constructed around the concept of the multiverse. My work also included communicating with representatives of DC who laid out for me their internal policy for defining when one version of one character ends and another begins because the nature of their own multiverse has included reboots.
 So where the FLYING FUCK do you get off claiming I’ve not read the comics and don’t understand the multiverse? I’ve written a goddam 30K fanfic around the concept of a multiverse. I was introduced to the concept as a child in the very first piece of Spider-Man media I ever consumed, the 1994 Spider-Man cartoon. I’ve got a wardrobe full of Spider-Man trades and organized them by which universe the stories take place in and in what order those universes were first published. And I’ve got an entire side blog dedicated to ESSAYS about Spider-Man and know Spider-Man lore you’ve never even mother fucking thought of. I know Mary Jane’s canonical ringtone!*
 Don’t you EVER test me on my fan credentials kiddo, I will goddam wreck you every time.
Moving on, yes it is speculation. It’s speculation that Mephisto, a character who’s introduction into the MCU has been discussed in fandom since early this year with WandaVision, who’s a villain who’d fit perfectly into the world of Doctor Strange, who Marvel now definitively have the rights to and who was the main villain of the storyline that is the direct inspiration for a major plot point in this movie.OH NO! How foolish of me for raising the idea they might  include him! Marvel would never use a Spider-Man movie to introduce plot elements for the wider universe that aren’t directly connected to Spider-Man himself... like Skrull impersonators...
Next, if you bothered to read what I wrote, what I said was:
 “P.S. It says far too much that the things getting people hyped the most for this movie is stuff that was in older Spider-Man movies from nearly 20 years ago…”
 “P.S. It says far too much that the things getting people hyped the most for this movie is stuff that was in older Spider-Man movies from nearly 20 years ago…”
 “P.S. It says far too much that the things getting people hyped the most for this movie is stuff that was in older Spider-Man movies from nearly 20 years ago…”
 “P.S. It says far too much that the things getting people hyped THE MOST for this movie is stuff that was in older Spider-Man movies from nearly 20 years ago…”
 “...THE MOST...”
 As in, yes they are getting hyped for the other stuff but it says something derogatory about the other, newer, stuff that people are the most hyped about the OLD stuff from this entirely different version of Spider-Man. Almost like it’s cheap nostalgia bait on Disney’s part (just like the Star Wars Sequels) and that people actually liked those older Spider-Man movies more.
 “They grew up on them kid ITS A MULTI- VERSE they ! Can be different versions of the villians too so they won't destroy the characters from 17 years ago kid”
 You know how sentences work right? You were supposed to say: “They grew up on them kid ITS A MULTI- VERSE, they can be different versions of the villains too! so they won't destroy the characters from 17 years ago kid!”
So, for starters if you are referring to villainS in the plural, i.e. Green Goblin and  Doc Ock, Green Goblin was from the first movie which was 20 years ago. But maybe you are too young to remember that, son.
More importantly, I fucking mentioned this in the original post you imbecile:
“I’ll settle if we learn that Doc Ock and the other Raimi villains are in fact from a universe merely similar to the Raimi movies (i.e. where Doc Ock never died) but I’m not hopeful for that.”
If you weren’t still learning how to read you might’ve noticed that I didn’t say they couldn’t be alternate versions of the original movie villains. I specifically raised that possibility but also said I wasn’t hopeful of that.
You can try and respond to me again junior if you want. I’d love to smack you down some more. But if you want to actually try and own me you are about 20 years too early and 100 IQ points short of doing that.
*It’s the musical cues from the film ‘Clone Encounters of the Third Kind’ as established in Amazing Spider-Man volume 2 #53, just in case you want to test me. Go ahead and check for yourself, it’s on the very first page of the issue.
To lazy or in experienced with the comics to do that? Okay, then let me pull up the page from my giant goddam digital archive of nearly every Spider-Man comic book ever:
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the sky’s open wide, i’m running with the wolves - chapter 1
Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides, background Remy, background c!Thomas Rating: Teen & up (see Warnings) Relationships: Platonic/brotherly Virgil with Logan and the Creativitwins; platonic/parental Patton & Virgil; platonic/brotherly Logan and the Creativitwins with each other; platonic/parental Janus with Logan and the Creativitwins; background endgame Moceit.  Warnings: Probably some language; references to Christianity; non-graphic violence.  Word count: 1570 Notes: Wolfwalkers (2020) AU! You don’t need to have seen the movie to enjoy this, though. 
Read on AO3!
My writing masterpost
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Summary: When Patton is charged with hunting down the wolves in the woods, he believes he is protecting his young son Virgil. But Virgil is afraid to watch his father vanish into the woods, and sneaks after him. When Virgil runs into three wolf cubs who hold the secrets of the forest, he has to make a choice: obey the rules he’s known all his life? Or try to help the three shapeshifting boys find their missing father—even though Virgil's always been taught that the only safe wolf is a dead one? As Virgil explores the wonderful world his new friends show him, and uncovers the lies his town is built on, he may be too late to realize that his choices will cost him more than he ever bargained for.
Chapter 1
Remy would never have particularly considered himself a God-fearing man. Oh, he said his prayers and went to church, of course, but it was more a comfortable habit woven into the fabric of his life than something he devoted much thought to. Even at nineteen, he preferred to occupy his day-to-day thoughts with such matters as the tending of his sheep, the comfort of a nice dry pair of woolen socks, the avoidance of wolves, and, most of all, the brewing of a good cup of tea.
Remy was good at his job. He tended his sheep; he stayed well away from the woods. Everyone knew you didn’t mess with the woods. Stay away from their territory, and keep up the deal of old, and always be safe. He had never put much thought into this, either; it was much more important, in Remy’s eyes, to consider the fine taste that a brew steeped just right could carry.
He never expected his thoughtless respect for the woods to pay off.
The first time Remy saw a Wolfwalker, he was twenty-five years old and had started to wonder if he even believed they were real. But after that day, he never doubted again.
After all, how else could one explain the way the huge, snarling gray wolf, poised to deliver a killing bite to one of Remy’s finest sheep, had heard that commanding howl come from the woods, and put its tail between its legs and run back home in response?
Remy had watched the wolf run, standing frozen in fear and shock—and then he’d seen the Wolfwalker. A tall, tremendous wolf standing at the edge of the treeline, easily twice the size of the largest man, with dark gray fur and eyes gleaming yellow, a jagged scar running down one side of its face. Lean and powerful. Remy instinctively knew this was no ordinary wolf.
Remy had never considered himself a God-fearing man, but staring at the Wolfwalker and the way it commanded the pack of ordinary wolves surrounding it, he thought to himself that perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to pray a little harder.
“Thank you,” he croaked out when the Wolfwalker turned its eyes on him. “Thank you, m’lord—bless ye—I’ll never cross your territory, you may be sure of that—thank you for protecting my sheep—” He barely even knew what he was saying, babbling out his thoughts in more than a little healthy terror.
He wasn’t quite sure if the way the Wolfwalker bowed its head was a nod of acknowledgement, but the next moment, the Wolfwalker was leaping away, the pack of wolves trailing in its wake. And not a single sheep of Remy’s had been harmed.
Remy didn’t see the Wolfwalker often; over the next decade or so, he crossed paths with—him? Remy somehow got the feeling it was a him—perhaps half a dozen times. Every time he came away filled with awe and fear and a renewed sense that though the Wolfwalker was terrifying and fearsome, Remy would far rather live under his odd protection than whatever farce could be provided by all these guards the new Lord Protector kept bringing around.
Before he knew it, Remy was nearly thirty-seven and his appreciation of a good cup of tea had only strengthened over the years. He went to church and said his prayers with gusto, and every night he glanced out to the woods and gave a little nod of respect. For the Wolfwalker and, these last few years, the little cubs that followed in his wake.
As long as the people kept themselves to themselves and stayed out of the woods, Remy knew there was nothing to fear from the wolves.
***
“I don’t want you to go!” Logan clung to Janus’s wrist, digging his heels into the ground and trying to physically hold him back.
Janus lifted his powerful arm and picked the near-teen right up off the ground with almost no effort at all. “This is terribly grown-up of you,” he informed his eldest son dryly.
“There are too many humans,” Logan insisted, dangling from Janus’s arm, the little claws of his hands pricking at Janus’s skin. “You said only the forest was safe!”
Janus drew a long breath. “And that has been true for time immemorial. But things have changed. I like it no more than you do. But I need you to stay here and look after your brothers, you understand me, Logan? I will find us a new forest, a safer one, without any humans who want to cut and burn the trees or trap us with iron. And then I will come back and get you three, and we will go there.”
“But this forest is ours!” Logan protested. “No other forest will be ours like this one is.”
“Logan,” Janus said, and his voice bore an undercurrent of a warning snarl now, “I am doing what I must to protect my cubs.”
He didn’t know where to go, only that they couldn’t stay here. Not with the way the humans kept getting bolder and bolder and venturing deeper into the woods. Between Logan’s poor eyesight and the twins’ recklessness, and the way all three of them were only cubs and couldn’t defend themselves well yet, Janus was getting twitchier and twitchier by the day.
Logan stilled, an unhappy look on his face. “Can I come with you, at least? I can help! I’m very good at figuring things out! We could find a new forest together!”
“No,” Janus responded at once, his heart rate quickening at the idea. “I don’t—” He broke off and reconsidered what he was about to say. “I need you to look after the twins,” he said at last, striving to keep his voice casual.
Not casual enough. Logan stared at him, a look of dawning horror on his face. “You think you might not come back!” he accused.
Janus refrained from speaking the curse he wanted to let out. Logan had always been far too observant. “Of course I’ll come back,” he lied through his teeth, running a comforting hand through Logan’s tangled hair. “I only want to make sure the way is safe for my little ones first.”
Logan had spoken the truth a moment ago: there were too many humans these days. Janus wasn’t sure it was possible to safely venture past the borders of the forest anymore. He wasn’t sure there was anywhere left to take his little ones.
He wasn’t sure he would survive this search.
But it wasn’t like there were any other options left at this point. “Logan,” Janus said, kneeling down and putting his hands on the boy’s shoulders. He focused on making his voice honey-sweet and sincere. “I’m going to keep you safe, you understand? I would never abandon you. You are in charge of keeping your brothers safe until I return, but I will be back in a month or two.” Janus held the little boy’s brown eyes and tried not to think of humans with their traps and spears and guns and the way that once Janus left the forest he would have nowhere to hide.
“I will come back,” Janus told Logan, and he put his whole heart into his lie. “I promise.”
***
“I don’t want to move to some stupid village.” Virgil kicked his feet against the edge of the wagon petulantly, poking a piece of straw through the bars of his kestrel Thomas’s cage.
Patton sighed and reached back to ruffle his son’s hair, not taking his eyes from the winding dirt road. “I know, kiddo. We’re going to have a better life there. The Lord Protector offers a handsome salary to Hunters who can bring down wolves. They say the town is terrorized day and night, and they need to rid the forest of these pests so they can safely harvest the wood and expand the borders of the town.”
“But I hate when you go hunting!” Virgil crawled up to the driver’s seat beside Patton and clung to his arm. “I’m always so scared you’ll get eaten up! Or step in a trap! Or fall off a cliff! Or drown! Or—”
“Hey, there. Hey, now.” Patton wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulders. “Breathe, child. Breathe for me.” He murmured soothingly for a few minutes. “Now, come on, tell me: who taught you to draw a bow and arrow?”
“You,” Virgil mumbled.
“Good lad. And who taught you to track?”
“You did.”
“And what do you think? Am I a good Hunter? Haven’t I always kept you safe as can be?”
“Yes, but—”
“Virgil,” Patton interrupted, gentle but firm.
Virgil fidgeted for a moment. “It only has to go bad once, and you’d never come home again!”
“It’s a good thing I’d never do that, then,” Patton said, chucking Virgil under the chin and chuckling. “I mean, I have a sturdy little lad to look after, I must always make sure I hasten home to him at the end of the day.” He drew Virgil close and gave him a protective, reassuring hug. “Nothing’s going to get your Papa. I promise. I will always protect you, Virgil, you hear me? And today, the best way to protect you is to find ourselves a new home out here. We’ll make do, never you worry. I’m sure you’ll have lots of new friends in no time!”
--
Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): 
@theimprobabledreamersworld @private-snippers @fivehargreeves05 
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fallen-gravity · 4 years
Text
the calm after the storm
When Ford lost everything to Bill’s betrayal; his sleep, his only friend, his sense of security, his sanity, he thought for sure that at least, at the very least, he could still find comfort in the rumble of thunder and the spark of lightning, the same way he had as a child, because they were the one thing Bill couldn’t bend and twist to his liking.
What a naïve fool he had been.
Notes: Here's my entry for Week 1 of @forduary! This year's prompts are based on fanfic and art tropes, which I think is a real cool way to handle a fandom-wide event like this! The prompt was "Hurt/Comfort", so I went with the good ol' American classic of Nightmares. I hope you enjoy!
AO3 Link
When Ford was a kid, he loved thunderstorms more than anything else.
Thunder and lightning were his siren songs. When most people would reasonably be tucked away at home with a book or spent the day in bed, Ford would hear thunder and it would be his cue to kick off his bed covers, put his shoes on, and drag Stan out of the house with him to go exploring.
Thunderstorms were one of the only guarantees that the beach would be abandoned on a summer’s afternoon. If Ford wanted to go exploring for buried treasure in the sand, a dark and stormy afternoon was always going to be his best bet. Best of all, the storm brought things from the ocean onto the shore with its ravenous winds, and lightning strikes brought sea glass, which he and Stan would sneak home in their pockets.
In his college years, when he was too busy studying for any hands-on exploration outdoors, thunder and lightning no longer excited him as much as it did when he was a child. Rather, it filled him with a sense of comfort and nostalgia. If he were working at his desk in his dorm room when it began to rain, he would gather everything together and continue to work on his bed so he could look out his window at the rain as he worked.
It would not be until his early years in Gravity Falls that the excitement from his childhood would return to him. Thunder and lightning would bring frightened anomalies to his back porch seeking refuge from the pounding rain, and all he had to do if he wanted to take notes was take a peek out his back window.
When he lost everything to Bill’s betrayal; his sleep, his only friend, his sense of security, his sanity, he thought for sure that at least, at the very least, he could still find comfort in the rumble of thunder and the spark of lightning, because they were the one thing Bill couldn’t bend and twist to his liking.
What a naïve fool Ford had been back then.
He’s hanging in shackles in the Fearamid. The stench of his own smoking skin fills his nose and waters his eyes, and if not for the chain clenched tightly around his neck he’d surely be vomiting at the sensation.
“You ready to talk now?” Bill’s shrill voice pierces through Ford’s skull.
“Never!” Ford shouts, his chains jingling as he speaks. “I’ll die before you get a single word out of me!”  He spits at Bill’s feet.
Bill squints, and for a moment Ford thinks he’s about to start shocking him again. He braces for impact, but the shock never comes.
Instead, Bill groans like he’s bored.
“You’re no fun anymore, Sixer” Bill crosses his arm. “It’s always no, I won’t reactivate the portal, and no, I won’t join you in the nightmare realm, and no, I won’t hand over the rift. I’m sick of it!”
Bill raises his hand to snap his fingers, and the color drains from Ford’s face. He does everything he can to avoid the impact of whatever Bill’s about to do to him, attempting to squirm backwards and yank his wrists loose, but he doesn’t budge so much as an inch.
Bill snaps his fingers, and Ford squeezes his eyes shut, and…
He’s being lowered to the ground.  Ford pops an eye open, just to make sure Bill’s not playing tricks on him, or that he’s shrinking, but…no, his feet really are being lowered to the ground.
Ford’s shackles disappear, and he rubs at his tender wrists. “I…” he tries to bite, but he’s too baffled to finish his sentence. “I don’t understand”
“You want to play games with me so badly, then let’s play a game” Bill’s voice becomes distorted as his feet slam to the ground so hard it cracks. Ford takes a few cautious steps backwards. Bill snaps his fingers again, and the entire interior of the Fearamid transforms into a labyrinth. “If you can find your way out of here before I catch up to you, I let you go.”
Ford swallows hard. “What’s the catch?”
“That’s just it!” Bill responds giddily. “If I catch you before you escape, you have to tell me the equation. I’m not asking anymore.”
“What…What about the kids?”
“Won’t touch a hair on their puny heads! I promise.”  Bill tips his hat towards him. Ford…seriously doubts that, but if there’s any chance he can get out of here and bring Dipper and Mabel with him to safety, he’s taking it.
“Fine!”
Bill clasps his hands together. “Perfect,” he replies, his voice dark and low. A large timer suddenly appears on the ceiling.  “And since I’m such a gracious host, I’m giving you a two minute head start.”
He snaps his fingers once more, and he sprouts four more limbs and grows about eight feet taller. “You’re gonna need it.”
Without waiting for another word, Ford blindly sprints off in a random direction. He’s read extensive papers discussing minotaurs and their labyrinths, and the common traps one could find in them, so he should be out of here in no time. Just as he’s about to round a corner, a sudden streak of lightning strikes the wall, and a large pile of debris blocks his path.
From somewhere behind him Bill lets out a sickeningly shrill laugh as Ford backtracks to go a different route. He tries running back in the direction he came in, but another lightning strike blocks that path, too.
“Time’s up!” Bill shouts, and Ford stumbles off down a random clear path. It’s not a very long one, because tween one blink and the next he’s smacking head first into Bill’s outstretched hand. The color drains from Ford’s face as he’s lifted from the ground to meet Bill’s….many, many eyes. He doesn’t say anything else, simply morphs his hand into a giant taser.
“No!” Ford attempts to squirm as Bill brings the taser closer to his neck. “No! You promised!”
“I promised you I wouldn’t touch the kids! I never said anything about you.”
“No!” Ford shouts, and just as the taser is about to come in contact with his skin, there’s a pressure on his arm, like someone’s gently pushing him.
Ford’s eyes fly open, and he nearly smashes his forehead against Mabel’s.  His heart feels like it’s pounding hundreds of miles per hour, but it begins to slow when he realizes that he’s in his own room.
“Mabel?” he grips at his chest as he sits up. “What are you doing up?” He’d hate to have been the reason she woke up in the middle of the night.
She snorts as she takes a seat beside him on his couch. “It’s nine-thirty in the morning, Grunkle Ford, I’m always up this early!”
Ford’s about to ask how that could be when it’s still so dark in his room, but a roll of thunder outside his window answers that question for him. He flinches at the sound of it, and beside him Mabel places her tiny hand on top of his.
When he turns to meet her eyes there’s a deep sadness in them that could tear his heart in two. “Are you okay, Grunkle Ford?”
There isn’t nearly enough time in the universe to answer that question truthfully. He turns his hand to interlock his fingers with hers, and he squeezes gently. “I’m fine, sweetie, don’t worry about me”
She pouts, and returns the gesture of squeezing his hand. “I heard you talking in your sleep when I walked by. I wasn’t gonna bother you, but…” she turns her gaze towards the floor. “I…heard you say Bill’s name”
As if the universe itself were listening to her speak, a streak of lightning flashes across the sky at his name. Ford winces, and his grip on Mabel’s hand briefly tightens. She frowns, and scooches closer to rest her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, voice muffled by his turtleneck.
He knows that she still blames herself for Weirdmageddon.  She had come into the lab in the basement not too long ago and told him everything; from the argument she got into with Dipper to handing the rift over to Bill’s awaiting hands. It nearly broke his heart in two to see her so heartbroken and afraid. He’d told her that it wasn’t her fault, and that it was nearly inevitable it was going to happen eventually. She seemed to accept that, and hadn’t said anything about it to him since.
Still, he knows better than most that the guilt never truly leaves you be, and that it tends to sneak up from behind and eat you alive when you least expect it to.
“No need to be sorry, my dear” Ford replies, winding an arm around Mabel to hold her closer. “I’ve been having these sorts of nightmares since far before Weirdmageddon ever happened.”
“Then…why last night?” Mabel looks up at him, her soft brown eyes pooling with worry.
“Well, if I had to hazard a guess…” Ford taps at his chin. Before he can give it much more thought, another streak of lightning crackles outside, which makes him flinch. Mabel’s gaze switches back and forth between Ford and the window behind them, and she jumps up to her feet.
“That’s it!” she shouts, spinning towards him with a…very out of place grin plastered to her face. She takes his hands in her own. “Grunkle Ford, are you afraid of thunderstorms?”
Ford blushes so hard that his ears burn. “It…hasn’t been a fear I’ve had since childhood, but it seems like in turn of recent events…” He tugs awkwardly at the collar of his turtleneck.
“Aww, you don’t have to be so modest, Grunkle Ford! I’m not gonna judge you.” She offers a hand out to him, smiling sweetly. “As a matter of fact, I know a cure for just the thing, if you’d follow me”
A soft chuckle escapes Ford as he takes her up on her offer. He places his hand in hers, and she helps tug him to his feet. She guides him by the hand out of his room and towards the living room. Stan must still be asleep, because his recliner is unoccupied.
“Here we are!” She pats at the armrest with her free hand. “There’s a few things I need to put together, but you can sit right here while I go grab them.” She gently pats at his forearm. “You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about the rest”
…Interesting choice of words, but Ford doesn’t question them. He takes a seat in Stan’s recliner, and as soon as he kicks his feet up Mabel beams and skips off in another direction. He doesn’t have long to wonder what she could be planning, because only about a minute or two passes before a giant pile of blankets comes walking back into the room.
Mabel drops the pile in front of the recliner with a grunt. “There we go!” She grins, clasping her hands together. “This should be plenty enough for our pillow fort”
“Our…pillow fort?”
“Yeah!” she beams. “Pillow forts are like, the number one cure for everything, right behind hugs and glitter.”  She nods matter-of-factly. “It’s science! You should know, Grunkle Ford” She says, and heads towards the kitchen to grab a few chairs.
Ford can’t help but smile warmly as he stands to help her.  They gather all of the chairs from the kitchen and place them in a large circle around the recliner, spaced out just enough that there’s plenty of crawlspace between them and just close enough together to prevent the blankets from falling off. Once Mabel is satisfied with their placement, she begins placing the blankets on top of the chairs, letting the larger blankets come all the way to the floor to act as entrances to the fort. It’s a touchup of the blankets here and a small adjustment of the chair placements here, and Mabel steps back to admire their work.
“And...That should do it! I’m gonna go grab some more blankets and pillows for the inside, but you can feel free to head in without me” She beams, and she’s already off again before he can respond. Ford rolls his eyes at her fondly, and gets down onto his hands and knees to crawl inside the fort.
The change of scenery is instantaneous, in every meaning of the word. The inside of the fort is dark, save for the beams of light from the room outside seeping through the gaps of the blankets. It’s warm, from the heat trapped within each of the blankets. It’s quiet, so much so that the pounding of the rain on the windows sounds like nothing more than a muffled drizzle.  It’s comfortable, despite the only available seat being the floor itself.
It’s a sensory deprivation tank without the claustrophobia; a safe space Ford could see himself losing time to.  
“Hey!” Mabel’s cheery voice cuts smoothly through the silence.  She crawls through the blanket flap with an armful of blankets and a bowl full of fresh popcorn. “Sorry that took so long, I figured if we were gonna spend the whole afternoon in here that you were gonna want a snack” She places the bowl of popcorn on the ground between them,  and hands Ford a pillow.
Ford gently squeezes the pillow to his chest. “Mabel?”
“Yeah?”
Ford can feel the heat rising to his cheeks. “How did…how did you know?”
She cocks her head. “How’d I know what?”
“How did you know that…all of this would work?”
“Oh!” Mabel grins. “Pssh, that’s easy. Don’t tell Dipper I told you this, but he was absolutely terrified of rain when we were younger. It didn’t even have to be storming out, just as long there was rain falling from the sky. And all it took for him to calm down was tearing apart our beds and building a fort, so I figured that since you two are like, the same exact person that it would work for you too!” She gently taps at her forehead. “You two aren’t the only smart twins around here”
Ford laughs, winding an arm around her to bring her close to him. “Thank you, sweetheart. It’s working wonders”
The grin that spreads across her face could burn out the sun. She reciprocates his gesture, winding a tiny arm around him and resting her head on his chest.
Growing up, he’d been taught that there was no place for fear. Fear made you weak, and the only way to deal with it was to harshly beat it down until it was no more. You were to show fear that you were strong, and tough, and succumbing to it could only lead to your demise.
Worst of all, Ford believed it wholeheartedly. Shutting himself out from the world, sacrificing sleep, and comfort, and love, Ford truly believed he was winning his battles. There was nothing to fear if he had nothing at all.
But now, sitting in this tiny little fort made of love, listening to the rain with his great-niece by his side, he realizes that this is what he’s needed all along. You don’t defeat your fears by beating them into the ground, you defeat them with love, the love of those who care enough about you to fight by your side. And even though thunder is not tangible, something he can reach out and mold to his liking, he knows that in time, he will be back out there, learning to love the rain again with his long-lost childhood wonder.
And as he finds himself dozing off in the warmth of his niece’s arms, Ford knows that this storm will only be the first of many of its kind.
He looks forward to each of them.
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mrvdocks · 4 years
Text
Selcouth
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You shouldn’t have come on this stupid trip. Not even if it had opened you up more to him. If anything, you felt this trip had soured the more time had passed. Alex could tell. But you two had to play it safe, play the parts that Karl thought you two assumed from his perspective. You resented that, having to stick to an image that he had formed of you, one that tried to act like you weren’t so in love with him it made your heart ache. 
Or,
You and Alex plan a meet up with Karl for a week trip, only to have your feelings for Karl be put to the test when things don’t pan out how you all planned. (Karl Jacobs/Reader)  
After
“Stop it.” He says, voice serious and no longer joyful or even hinting at friendliness. You’ve heard Karl be serious many times but this time sounded different. This time he sounded like he was scolding a child after being annoyed by them repeatedly. 
“Stop what?” You ask, pretending to be aloof.
“Stop acting like a child!”
“I’m the one acting like a chil - since when was doing something I want, acting like a child?!” 
He makes a hmpf sound. “What is this supposed to be, payback? Is that what you’re playing at?”
“I’m not playing at anything here, Karl. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
He scoffs. “Oh yeah? So you just suddenly developed an interest in Dream overnight, is that it?” 
“Honestly, why do you care so much? My love life isn’t up for debate here.” 
“Oh and mine was?” He retorts.
You knew he would bring it up, you just knew. It was perfect ammo right now. You stutter to find the right words. 
“What - what do you want from me Karl? I don’t need to explain myself to you. Have you considered that maybe I just finally got tired of being alone? That maybe I just needed someone?” 
Karl tries to not let this dig push him over the line but his frustration and jealousy wouldn’t let him stop seeing green. 
“Is this what you do? You like playing with people's feelings? Do you think screwing my friends is going to help you or is this another one of your phases?”
It feels good in the heat of the moment but he knows he’s messed up as soon as he says it. 
Your mouth drops open. Incredible. In-fucking-credible.  
You laugh bitterly, trying to put up a strong front but your voice betrays you by cracking. “That’s low, Karl. That’s - really fucking low.”
Instantly regretting it, he tries to make amends but can’t put words together properly. His mind reels, heart races, palms suddenly feel sweaty and all he can manage is your name. “(Y/N)......I -”
You can’t bear to hear another false apology spill from his lips. If that’s how he felt, then there was no changing his mind. No matter how badly you wanted to. 
“No you’re right. You’re right. You made your choice and so have I. Goodbye Karl.” You conclude and hang up, throwing your phone across the room. You stare at it until your vision becomes blurry with tears. 
Where do you go from here?
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Before
You didn’t think that when you first started streaming that you’d end up at the point you were now. You just wanted to have fun with your friends, maybe meet some new people, share your interests along with the loads of games you found amusing. Interestingly enough, your personality and content seemed to resonate with a lot of people. 
Pretty soon you’d become one of the top streamers on Twitch behind the other big talent that once dominated your dashboard. 
You’d made your way into the big leagues with names like GeorgeNotFound, Dream, Quackity, Nihachu, and even Karl Jacobs. Though you’d met the latter two years ago, you’d become quick friends with Quackity, or Alex(is), having bonded over having similar backgrounds and interests. 
He was more like a brother to you than anything, much to the chagrin of many in the chat. You believe it had to do with growing up in a family with mostly girl siblings. 
Your collabs with Alex garnered lots of views, with people tuning into the streams to watch you two yell at each other chaotically while playing odd games or attempting to bake things. 
Of course, while he did your side of content, that meant you had to hold up your end of the bargain. Minecraft wasn’t your strong suit at first, but as time went on and with some help from both Alex and Karl, you became a little more proficient. 
Karl was no stranger to you, not anymore. Alex had introduced you to Karl a little after he started streaming. You’d only really known him from a couple of Jimmy’s videos. 
He seemed kind, goofy, friendly, and all around a pretty fun guy to be around. Which is why when you started to fall just a little bit for him, you were surprised. You came into this Twitch thing with one rule. Don’t fall for people. 
Things could get messy, it was always a given. The fandoms would tear into you or them, people were unpredictable. It was just better to keep everyone at an arm's length when it came to shipping. 
You were thankful nothing had come to fruition from your friendship with Alex. If anything, all you saw were people shipping you platonically. Though you two would often tease each other if one had a crush on someone. 
Your dynamic with Alex meant that you had countless ridiculous and outrageous moments together, often documenting them when he would visit you in LA from Mexico or you going to Mexico to see family and stopping by to visit him.
It was starting to become a thing you two did a few times a year. This year was no different. Even when the pandemic seemed to sour your plans, you both promised to stay safe and healthy and limit the trips. So far, this was going to be the first trip you two would be taking anywhere. 
Your phone buzzed next to you as you scrolled mindlessly through your discord server. You laughed a bit here and there, looking at memes and chatting with people. 
Alex’s text ringtone was him rage quitting during a game where you absolutely obliterated his ass. You either cracked up at the sound of it or jumped in sudden fear when it bounced off the walls of your apartment in the middle of the night. 
A: Hey wiener, are you packed?? I know you take like three business days to get ready. 
You rolled your eyes. He was supposed to be coming to visit you first before you both made the flight out to see Karl in North Carolina. 
Y: Me??? I’ve been packed since last week. I thought you were supposed to be on the flight here already 🙄
A: I may or may not…...already be out. 💀
Your eyes widen. You abandon the chat and hit the FaceTime button. He lets it ring for a good five seconds before he accepts it and greets you with a close up of his face.
“What am I looking at?” You ask, feigning disgust. 
“My beautiful face, what else?” 
“Really? I thought it was a dog’s asshole.” You chuckle. 
He guffaws. “Fuck off! First I get stranded here in LA, then I get some shitty chicken nuggets and now you’re calling me butt ugly! Why does life hate me so much?!”
“Menso! You were supposed to call me when you - wait did you say chicken nuggets?”
“Yeah, I still have the rest but I can’t finish because every time I chew I think of the pink slime.”
“Ugh don’t talk about Supersize Me, I’m still having nightmares about it. Who shows that to little kids??” 
“Yeah well it’s shit, Burger King’s better.” He admits, munching down on the nuggets. He chews obnoxiously near the phone speaker to annoy you so you tap at the screen in retaliation. 
“Hey, I was supposed to record you trying out American McDonald’s! Why are you taking sweet sweet content away from me? Now no one gets to see you lose your McVirginity!”
He sputters through a mouthful of nuggets and does a combination of coughing and laughing. 
“Anyways,” he says, finally nugget free. “You coming or not? I don’t think I wanna sleep on the airport floor.”
“Yeah yeah, I’m coming. I’ll text you when I’m outside.” 
The airport was a forty five minute drive, thirty if you stepped on it and committed several traffic violations. 
Maybe that would make good content. 
You grabbed your keys and rushed out of your home, fully prepared to go fast and furious. You put your windows down, connected your phone to the aux and blasted Tokyo Drift as you merged into the freeway. 
Half an hour later, you’d arrived at a packed airport pick up area and texted Alex to let him know you’d arrived. He replied that he was starting to feel the effect of the chicken nuggets but that he would push through people to get out of the building before he caught anything from anyone.
Once you could make out his figure up ahead in front of the other cars, you got the bright idea to switch your music to something more interesting. You pulled up one of his videos where he was fully invested in a rendition of Hey There Delilah and honked excessively once you got closer to him. He looked around and pulled his beanie down lower to hide his face in embarrassment. 
You and the prerecorded Quackity sang in off key unison with the volume up as much as you could before he threw his luggage and bags into your backseat, hopped into the passenger seat and put the volume down.
“Never do that again.” 
“Hey, that was your welcome salute. I don’t do that for other people, you’re special and I like it.”
“Could you try liking me a little less? I could do without all the cringe covers.” He laughed to himself as he buckled up. 
The ride home consisted of a mix of very poor and impressive impressions of characters that would’ve annoyed nearly anyone else except you. Alex alternated from a gruff impression of Squidward to a raunchy Mickey Mouse that left you doubling over and gripping the steering wheel. You competed with him, doing your worst impression of Cookie Monster and Goofy. 
Your impression competition was interrupted by a phone call, Karl’s photo flashing flipped a panic switch in you as you scrambled to grab your phone. Alex takes your phone and extends his arm far from your reach. 
“Ah, ah, ah! No texting and driving! You want to kill us or something?!”
“I need to answer! What if he thinks I’m ignoring him?”
“I got it, I got it.” He assures, sliding the bar to unlock the phone and meet Karl face to face.
Karl makes a surprised sound, greeting Alex almost immediately. 
“Hey bub!” You chime in, keeping your eyes on the road but getting a glimpse of Karl in his frog outfit. 
“Hi! Sorry, I didn’t know you were driving.”
“No it’s okay! I’m just coming back from picking up this idiot.” 
“Who you calling idiot, dumbass?” Alex suddenly burst into his Mickey Mouse voice from earlier, ending it with the iconic Mickey laugh. 
Karl seemed to eat it up, breaking into laughter. It was infectious enough to make you chuckle. 
“You guys excited for the trip? It’s looking really pretty here this time of year. I can’t wait to show you around.”
“You mean show us your sweater collection?” Alex jabs.
You nudge him roughly to the side as a warning, glaring at him when he glances at you. 
You’d hoped that the change of scenery would do you some good. LA was an endless heap of  heat that you never could seem to escape. Not even with air conditioning. It was October already, which normally would mean Fall, orange leaves, pumpkins everywhere, a complete shift in temperature, right? Nope. 
It was the devil’s asshole all year round, something Alex could attest to. 
“Don’t mind him, I think he was dropped as a kid.”
“How dare you! There is nothing wrong with me, I’m perfect.”
“Ha! Sure. As if you don’t have a lot of things wrong with you.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
You tap at the time on your screen, “We don’t have enough time to get into it.”
You turn your attention back to Karl, very attentive to your bickering, small chuckles here and there. It wasn’t until he made eye contact with you that you felt your hands falter on the wheel. You were lucky enough that it didn’t make you stray away from the road. 
“Um - you know what? We’ll call you later, we’re almost home anyways.” 
“Okay! Be safe! Goodnight. ” Karl bids you both goodbye and poses his phone in front of him in order to hug it from afar, as if to hug both you and Alex. 
You groan to yourself, pretending to bang your head against the steering wheel as soon as you pull up to your complex. Alex laughs at your misery. 
“Oh man, you really are down BAD.”
“Shut up! I regret telling you things sometimes.” 
“No one said you had to! I guess I just have one of those faces.” He Chad swipes at his chin and squints at you.
“Yeah, punch able.” You remark with a quirk of your brow, slipping out of the car and heading to your front door. 
Alex follows, grabbing his things in a hurry before you can get the chance to lock him out and leave him to sleep with the coyotes. 
“Don’t leave me out here! I’m too delicious to die!” He cries.
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You’re awoken by the feeling of warm sunlight on the left side of your face. You hesitate to move, feeling tired already even though you’re sure you slept longer than you should’ve. 
You prop yourself up by your elbows, shielding your face from the sun with your hand. You get out of bed groggily, staring at the floor for a second before making your way to the living room and finding Alex sleeping in a weird position. 
Amused, you rush back into your room and grab your phone to document this moment and post it on Twitter. However when you return, he’s gone. You lean over the couch to check if he’s hiding behind it but he’s nowhere to be found. 
You’re about to crouch to check for his feet or any sign of him when you feel fingers dig in your sides. You yelp in fear and surprise, smacking your attacker until he starts to yell in a shrill voice. 
Alex pushes you over the couch making you fall on your ass. 
“WHAT THE HELL?!” You scream. 
“That’s what you get for trying to take pictures of me!”
You try to stand, rubbing at your sore ass. “Ugh, what are you, a cryptid or something? The people have a right to see!”
“No one gets to see me in the morning! No one! I need my beauty sleep more than you.”
He extends a helping hand for you to take in a moment of truce but you take advantage and pull him down with you to land on his back. He groans when he hits the ground and curses at you in Spanish. 
“Play time’s over, we gotta get ready. The plane leaves in…..one hour????!” 
Your phone says it’s only nine in the morning but you hazily remember the tickets reading ten thirty. 
“No way! I have to take a shower, I have to order food….” He begins, counting on his fingers the various things he suddenly had to do but you stop him by running into your room and getting your bags. 
“No time! Brush your teeth, get dressed, I’ll buy us something at the airport.”
“NOOOO! Airport food is disgusting! Can’t we stop somewhere?” 
“Like I said, no time! We gotta be out of here in thirty minutes.”
He grumbles under his breath. 
“I heard that!” You yell behind you, grabbing a towel and turning on your shower. 
After Alex rummaged through your kitchen, stuffed himself with some snacks and an alarming amount of frozen food, you urged him to shower in the little time span you had left and ordered a ride to take you to the airport. 
You had to basically pull him away from putting on his finishing touches with his beanie, with him complaining that his hair wouldn’t settle under it the way he wanted. You rolled your eyes and shoved him and your stuff into the Uber and kissed California goodbye. 
You two started planning what you’d do in NC as soon as you landed, besides getting food. You could practically hear Alex’s stomach grumbling the whole drive to the airport and even after the Uber gave him some snacks.
There was a sense of urgency that made your stomach twist in knots until you’d arrived at the drop off section. You stuck your tickets in your pocket as you hurried Alex, dragging him and urging him to run faster than he’d ever imagined to catch the plane. 
With only minutes to spare, you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you panted and tried to regain it once you were at the gate. Alex makes a joke about you being out of breath to the pretty attendant that you make a note of later, just in case he tried to flirt with her. 
Alex followed the attendant like a puppy while you popped your phone out from your pocket and snapped a photo of the plane. You debated sending it to Karl, not sure if wanting your boarding to be a surprise or not. You relented to posting it on Twitter and sending it to Karl. 
Big things coming ;) You tweeted, exiting out of the app as quickly as you’d posted it, knowing you’d be flooded with notifications. 
You switched over to message, sending it to Karl but unsure if he would be awake right now. Maybe it would make his day better. 
On our way! See you soon! :)) 
You ran to catch up with Alex, finding him still talking to the attendant. In the most bitchy voice you could muster, you hugged him from the side and nestled your head into his shoulder. 
“I’m so happy we’re going on vacation babe, thank you!” 
His face fell, the attendant suddenly losing interest and suggesting the two of you find your seats. You intertwine your hands with his and hold it up, making a joke about how you two were inseparable. 
He suppresses the urge to fight you and instead screams internally, whisper yelling to you as you both sit. “You couldn’t let me be a Chad once? Just once!” 
“That’s what you get for slamming me on my ass earlier.”
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