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#Hopefully I managed to make them somewhat comprehensible!
fiepige · 10 months
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Guys we need to talk about the deleted scene!
A deleted scene called "Miguel Calling" has been released and even though he doesn't physically appear in this scene, we still get some pretty interesting information about Hobie (that may or may not be canon).
In the clip above we hear a rather interesting conversation between Gwen and Miguel. Gwen wants to call Hobie for backup for the Spot mission, but Miguel says that Hobie quit!
What we learn from this scene:
Hobie quit the spider-society (because he doesn't believe in institutions or teams- at least that's why Miguel thinks he quit)
Even LYLA can't find him!!!! I find this VERY interesting cause she was able to track the Spot as he was dimension hopping (and he didn't wear a watch or anything they could use to track him). So Hobie somehow KNOWS how to completely avoid detection from the spider-society, which again must mean that he has a pretty good idea as to how the society works! (Also does this mean he wasn't hiding in his own dimension? Cause that feels like a pretty obvious place to hide and I feel Like LYLA would be able to find him there? OR: Does this mean he'd already made a watch for himself at this point and was using it to dimension hop or maybe he can use it to somehow avoid detection from LYLA? Or maybe he was hiding in his own dimension cause it would be too obvious and thus the last place they'd look for him).
Hobie gave Gwen a way to contact him! (maybe he'd already made a watch for her too in this version?)
Miguel thinks Hobie is unrelieable and erratic, I wonder if that's why he wanted Hobie to come with the others to HQ? So that he could have a serious talk with Hobie after he was done with Miles? Is that why Miguel acts so annoyed by Hobie's presence when he first meets Miles at HQ?
I know this is a deleted scene and thus technically isn't canon, but I still think it gives us some very interesting (and possibly canon?) information about Hobie and how the other characters view him!
This post turned out to be longer than I expected but I just get so many new ideas and thoughts when I watch this scene! Please let me know what you guys think of all this!
Thank you for reading!
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nonuggetshere · 3 months
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I shared my (and my friend's ocs) that are related to PK SO-
This is A LOT and I'm kinda embarrassed but I'll fucking "cringe culture is dead" through life or so help me GOD
I like imagining backstories for characters and making cool little nonsensical and completely self-indulgent AUs
(Also for the few people subscribed to my patreon there's more stuff after what I've posted there, just scroll a bit down 👍)
F9r the record I also mangled mine and @demonicintegrity 's thoughts and ideas into one post so it's somewhat comprehensible but jsyk they contributed a lot
An AU where Adamas has her last clutch in her small form
As a refresher Amanita is White Lady's name and Ebur is Pale King's name. Adamas is Pale King's mother, though wyrms use dame and sire for their parents so that's what he calls her. I am yet to properly share Quercus but he's WL's father. Flower is my name for the Pure Vessel in this AU, Hallow is their birth name. Amaryllis is an oc, they're Flower's twin. Any other names that appear here are PK's siblings.
Also using they/it for Ebur and the rest of the family bc as wyrms they don't really have genders
Ebur and Amanita meeting while Ebur's family is travelling and Amanita still lives at the edge of her father's territory and her root system is connected with his but she's getting ready to leave hopefully in just one or two years when she's gathered enough strength and the spring's kind and abundant
Adamas' little group settles near her groove since it's brimming with life and there's not many people to get in the way or compete over resources with aside from the occasional traveller or two, and Amanita tolerates their presence for now, they give her something to do since her father is quite busy with his new seedlings now that she's grown and she doesn't have much company or things to do other than to listen to the occasional mortal passing by and watch the nature, so this small group of wyrms that's mostly composed of ones not much younger than her with all the hubris and boldness of young wyrms is the most interesting thing that's happened to her in a while
Some of them would probably push too far before Adamas had to smack them upside the head and reprimand them for ever thinking about taking over this territory, after all they're really on the larger territory of an ancient God, and even though Roots aren't known to be the most attentive of parents she still doesn't want to tempt fate and check if this one is the same by attacking his daughter
Either way, Amanita notices the younger wyrm isn't quite like the others and seems very intrigued by him
Although their first in face meeting wasn't the best, with her attacking him and managing to stab him in the ribs (you bet your ass Adamas chewed out his ass when he returned to their densite all bloody and holding his side), he kept returning to study her
Seems they both found each other intriguing
And eventually they get to talking, Ebur seemed excited to meet the first rootfolk in his life and actually to get to talk to her, he asks so many questions and she's amused with his curiosity, and eventually actually grows curious about the wyrms (and especially him) herself and asks him things in turn
They grow into unlikely friends though there's definitely more to it but neither is willing to acknowledge it yet
He often sneaks away from his family just to talk to her, and eventually they start sneaking into the more private parts of her groove with the excuse that they wouldn't want Ebur's family finding out they're friends, both of them just ignoring their glaringly obvious attraction to each other
One time Ebur brought her a kill he made and she hoped to GOD her blush wasn't noticeable (it was, not that he'd know because he was also avoiding eye contact to try and hide his own)
Ebur and the bad bitch he pulled by being autistic 💜
The group spends enough time around there for the two idiots to stop dancing around the subject and not only admit to their mutual attraction but to start to fall in love
Enough so that Ebur decides to stay when Adamas decides it's time to move on
At first she was about to talk sense into him about staying permanently in this place but he quickly corrected her
"No, no, it's not like that! I don't want to stay here permanently! I just..." He quieted down and looked away
"...You want to leave?"
"...mh..."
"Are you sure about this? Life as a lone wyrm isn't easy out there in the Wastelands, perhaps it'd be better if you stuck around until we find a suitable territory for you to stay at-"
"No, dame, I- I want to leave now. I think it's time. I love you all and I'll miss you, but...I just...I want to see what's out there for myself. Every year, every day, feels the same now; find some place, stay for a bit and hunt, move on. I- I can't live like this, it feels...suffocating."
"...You were always the curious kind, weren't you? I should have known this routine would bore you eventually," She sighed heavily and approached him, "I always knew this day would come, I just never expected it to be my youngest and smallest wyrmling that leaves the nest first..." She pulled him into a tight hug, "...Stay one last night with us, and if you're still sure about this after tomorrow's hunt I'll leave some supplies for you when we move on."
He smiled and hugged her back, "...Thank you..."
"Just promise me you'll be safe, okay?"
"You taught me well. I'll be alright, I promise."
He spends lots of time with his siblings and mother the next day, maybe Melpomene proposed she could come with since they were always the closest but he reassured her he wanted to be alone
The goodbye is very tearful, even Adamas cries and she's not the type to do that often
Ebur feels a little broken seeing them go, it feels weird being completely alone, strangely quiet too - he usually likes the quiet, but not this time. He goes to hunt to keep his mind off it then that evening he gathers his things and moves them to a densite way closer to his root's (his root, saying that makes him so giddy) and goes to share his kill with her
And that night, for the first time in their lives, he goes to sleep curled up around her amongst her roots. It does help him feel much better about having to say goodbye to his family
He spends the rest of the year in her groove with her - from summer to winter - before she's finally ready to move on next spring and he happily follows her to look for a new home for the both of them
Despite the new normal being hard to get used to at first he was still so unbelievably happy with her
And Quercus was considerably easier to hide their relationship from than his own family, considering they're on the outskirts of his territory and Ebur never saw him in person. As far as Quercus is concerned, Amanita just has a mild wyrm problem that she's handling well on her own
A few different  things could happen from then on
Could either go canon compliant or pull out one of my fav moves, a cute domestic AU where they don't found Hallownest or do it later down the line after already having children and just live for a while as a happy family
And also the Drama Flavour where Ebur ends up pregnant despite them not trying to, they say fuck it and have them but he gets very sick and she brings him to her father for help, cue him being appalled that she's partners with a wyrm and her telling him to suck a dick and she'll take care of him herself, then they have the worst luck ever after finding a brand new territory and stumble onto Ebur's family, and Adamas has some very strong opinions about him being mates with a root (she doesn't even realise he's expecting otherwise it would have been. Worse). Fucking Romeo and Juliet up in here
For the last idea, I like the idea of Adamas questioning if that root can even provide for him or any possible clutches he might have in the future and he gets so pissed off he bristles, tells her to drop it and he's done with her attitude and to get the fuck off his territory. She bristles and calls him out on being so cocky as to tell her to get out
"If you're so confident then come on, defend your territory! Kick me out yourself!"
"Stop it-"
"Come on, boy! Show me you can actually protect yourself and yours! If you want me out them force me out!"
"I'm not going to fight you, mother!"
"...Tsk, you even talk like her."
"...Just...Just leave...please."
She circles him, "You should know words won't be enough to protect your territory from intruders, and that young root definitely doesn't have it in her to do it. You promised me you'll stay safe, so show me you can actually take care of yourself!"
Instead she gets violently thrown back by a white root after Amanita returns to check up on her hubby <3
Puts herself between them, ready to snap their necks with her roots if she has to
"He told you to leave, so leave. Or should I make you, you old bag?"
"Amanita-"
Of course, it was 25% him not being willing to fight his own mother and 75% him being sick and not willing to risk the pregnancy, but he's not gonna tell her that when she reacted so negatively about him being mates with a root (and his siblings def teased him before the situation got serious)
He's gonna be SO fucking depressed about this later though
But I also just like the idea of them finding the place that would later become Hallownest and founding the kingdom together
Ebur: Babe do you want me to beat up this old slug for you?
Amanita: Oh how romantic~
Unn:(live slug reaction)
Unn: Just take the damn territory and leave me alone, you brats
I also made an entire AU with Integrity where PK moves on with his family with a promise that he'll be back next spring for her, only to realise he's expecting. And I am obsessed with this version, it's cute and domestic (in a wyrm kind of way) and I am sucker for these things.
Ebur leaves with his family, promising to return to her next spring so they can leave together, but what he DIDN'T account for was him getting pregnant
So now he has to think up an idea to sneak away and keep his pregnancy hidden until he's back with her. Very hard to do with his mother around, an old wyrm with decades worth of clutches she's reared into adulthood by herself, she sussed him out embarrassingly quickly
Ebur, trying to sneak out: 💦💦💦
Adamas, like she’s scolding a teen: where are you going at this hour?
Ebur: …. A walk to clear my head?
Adamas: do you think that excuse worked with your siblings back then?
Ebur: … no
Adamas: do you think it’s gonna work now?
Ebur: ……… no
Ebur, quickly thinking of something else: ......hunting...
Adamas: Hunting?
Ebur: Hunting.
Adamas: At midnight? With your white, glowing ass? After we just ate?
Ebur: .........I'm hungry.
Adamas: Uh-huh
Ebur, bristling: Well! I'm a grown wyrm, I can do what I want!
Adamas: Oh can you now?
Ebur: 💦💦💦
Adamas: You're an adult but I'm still this group's leader, including yours
Ebur: Yes, dame. I'm sorry, dame
He does his best to mask his scent and keep his hormones and instincts under control, tries to sleep a little further from the group, is very careful on hunts and starts eating away from them when food aggression starts kicking his ass
One time Adamas finally approached him at meal time, throwing him her portion
"Here, eat up."
He looks at her, confused, "...I...what?"
"Just eat, kid."
He hesitantly takes it and leaves it near as he continues with his portion, "Don't you need to eat also?"
"Eh, I've eaten enough. Besides, I'm not the one who's eating for more than one right now."
"HRK-"
He looks at her, horrified, and she can't help but laugh
"What? You think I haven't noticed? Come on, you could fool your siblings with your excuses but I've had plenty of clutches of my own," She pats him on the shoulder, "Come on, eat up, kid. You need to put some meat on these bones."
He sighs heavily and goes back to eating, red in the face and a little awkward, unable to look her in the eyes as she's just observing him
"...If you copulated around the time of your first heat last spring-"
"HRNK?!"
"Oh, don't be like that, you're not a child anymore. Anyway, your due date should be in winter...not the ideal time to have a clutch, but we could make this work. You'll need to eat a lot if this kid is to have any chance of survival, though," She looked back st him, "...If you want to keep it, that is."
He goes quiet, his tail curling in close, "...I...y-yeah, I do..."
"...Alright, if that's what you want."
"You seem nervous."
"...How- how could I not be? I mean, all of this, it's...it's my first brood, and if they're due in winter..."
She scoots closer to him and wraps her tail around him, "Hey...you're not alone in this, okay? You have your siblings and I, we'll take care of you and your young. It's going to be alright." And she nuzzles him gently
Obviously they figure out the children are part root, but only some time after they're born
At least now Ebur has an excuse to return to her, saying she'd have valuable input on caring for them
That doesn't stop his siblings from teasing him about possibly wanting to see her again and being in love (they're right, but he's not about to admit it)
Also the moment he accidentally let's her name slip he's not gonna hear the end of it
Adama: So you want to return to the groove?
Ebur: Yes. I mean, she taught me a lot about rootfolk, but-
Io: Uh-huh, I bet she did. Close and perso-
Ebur, slapping him with his tail: ...Anyway. She told me a lot, but still, Amanita would kno-
Adustus: YOU KNOW HER NAME?!
Ossum: OHHH, LITTLE LOVERBOY IS ON FIRST NAME BASIS WITH THE ROOT~?
Ebur: You're killing me
God can you imagine what kind of pains in the ass these cunts were when Adamas and Ebur broke the news to them
Constant teasing and asking who it was
Ebur gets no rest
Adamas takes her little shits on a training hunt again
"Why do we need to train anyway? You've taught us how to hunt seasons ago."
"I did, but not with two members down. You need to practice now before your sibling stops being able to join us on hunts."
"...two...?"
"Yes, two. It'll be safer if somebody stays behind with Ebur when he's further along and carrying for his young, so I need to know we'll be able to provide for this family with two hunters down and more mouths to feed."
"...Can't I join your hunts anyway? You hunted by yourself while pregnant, didn't you?"
"I did, but I was also alone, I had no choice. You shouldn't have to choose between your children's safety and finding food. We live as a family for a reason, what would we be but animals if we don't take care of each other? I'm not letting you or your young live like lone nomads when you have us."
They also hunt more since Ebur needs more food, especially later down the line, and if anybody complains she's gonna cut that shit down SO fast
"I don't want to hear it! Ebur and the brood they're carrying are your kin, so start acting like it and have some damn respect. Do you think Ebur would be here complaining if the roles were reversed? Do you think they wouldn't care for you when you need it? We're a family, we take care of each other, in sickness and in health. Your sibling and his children need you. If that's a problem for you, you're free to leave and live as a nomad, but as long as you follow me and are a part of this family I don't want to hear any complaining, got it?"
"...yes, dame. I'm sorry."
"Instead of apologising to me make yourself useful. And treat your siblings kinder, one day you might be the one who needs their help so you better hope your words don't come back to bite you then."
Adamas is a strict parent but very much loves her family and it's so important to her that they take care of each other <3
She's a good mum, if a little bit hard on them at times
Melponeme, loafing in front of Ebur: ….
Ebur: …. What. Go away
Melp: im not touching you
Ebur: what do you want
Melp, loafing, staring: ……….
Ebur: ………………
Melp: you’re gettin fat
Ebur: no shit it’s almost like a have a litter growing inside me
Melp, reaching over to poke his stomach:
Ebur, batting: stop that!!!
Melp: how many do you think they’re gonna be?
Ebur: I dunno
Melp: probably like. A lot of you keep growing at this rate
(And then it's just two. Absolute menace <3 won't give him a break)
Ebur, growling:
Adamas: Dear, if you keep poking at a predator like that it's gonna strike
Melp: Nahhh, they're harmle-
Ebur, pouncing on her:
Melp: !!!
"Don't be too rough with your sibling, they're expecting."
"Oh come on! They started it! They can't keep holding the pregnancy thing over our head constantly!"
Ebur sitting there like >:3
“Well they’ve got a few more months and then it’s fair game”
"Oh, so you'd beat up a new parent and leave my children orphaned? How cruel"
"I'm not gonna kill you, you maniac?!"
Also once he's much further along he digs himself a separate den and slowly moves in there, it worries his siblings but Adamas assures them it's normal, wyrms prefer to be alone in the first few days before and after giving birth
"Are you sure they're okay? Can't they stay with us?"
"Pff, would you prefer to get growled at and possibly mauled every time you come into your den? They'll be fine, don't worry."
His siblings go out hunting and gathering more often after that and finally give him lots and lots of warm and soft bedding for his new den
"Since you'll sleep alone we thought you and the baby could use some warmer bedding."
And he can't help but smile and wag his tail
Wondering if wyrms would have a word for aunt/uncle and what would it be?? Obviously not auncle, since aunt and uncle aren't wyrm temrs
Currently they don't have any, anybody beyond your parents, siblings and young are just "kin"
Maybe they'd use cousin? (As in. Also use cousin, not a replacement for aunt/uncle. I realised I worded this weird)
Half of this is Ebur's siblings fretting over him and Adamas having to keep them straight and from freaking out KDBDJRB
“GET OUT OF MY DEEENNNN”
“Oh but we worry about our poor lil sibling!!”
“FUCK OOOFFF”
Gonna get hissy and pissy and Adamas will just shake her head and say she warned them
“Can we see the babies now— UAGH”
“-HISSSSS-“
Glaring at them from the entrance of his den before the babies even arrive
"You're so lucky I'm round and slow right now"
“Hehe spherical”
“Shut the fuck up”
Also been thinking about the delivery. This sounds weird,,
TW for childbirth, pregnancy, etc, and mention of near infant death
Anyway, his siblings would notice he stopped eating, only stays in his den, and would bring it up to Adamas
Her ear just twitches and she looks over at his den, "...Seems the little one will arrive any moment, then."
"Huh?"
"How can you tell?"
"I also stopped eating like two to three days before I had you or any of my previous litters. It's normal. Just give them some space, they're going to be especially irritable now."
Then one night one of them wakes up and immediately wakes the others, as Adamas isn't in the den. They peek out to look for her and find her just sitting nearby and staring at Ebur's den
"...Dame? Why aren't you in the nest?"
"Quiet down. Do you smell that?"
They pause to scent the air
"...blood?"
"...It's been a while," She gets up and dusts herself off, "I'll go check up on your sibling, you keep watch for me. Don't come too near, he's probably stressed as is."
She approaches his den and they see her quietly talking before she disappears inside. They keep watch as promised, though all of them are fidgety and uneasy, pacing and shifting around, trying to chat to pass the timd
After what feels like forever though one of them tells them to shut up for a moment and when they do they can hear very faint cries coming from the den
They wait with held breaths and eventually Adamas stalks out of the den holding bloodied bedding (to a group of nervous wyrms looking at her like 👁👁 👁👁 👁👁 👁👁 👁👁, almost makes her laugh)
"...so?"
"So what?"
"Dame, please-"
She snickers, "There's two."
They all seem excited, which makes her smile
"How are they?"
"Ebur is fine. One of the wyrmlings is strong, and the furstborn..." She trails off, swishing her tail, "They'll make it, if they survive this night."
The five visibly deflate at the news
"...Are they gonna...?"
"Only time will tell. Like I said, if they survive this night they should be okay. Don't repeat this to Ebur, though, they've had enough of hardships for one night," She turned to leave, "I'll go burry these sheets. You five, go hunt for your sibling and their young, they're going to need the strength. I'll look after them."
They hurry off, a hunt seems like a good opportunity to blow off some steam
When they return, Adamas shows them how to thinly mince the meat for the the newborns before she delivers the food to Ebur and his kids
That's pretty much the norm for the next few days, Adamas is the only one who he allows into the den so she updates the siblings on the situation and stays with him while they go hunting
The day after, after they made their hunt for the day and Adamas once again disappears into their sibling's den with the food, was probably the most stressful. The five waited for her for what seemed like eternity and immediately pounce on her for info like young wyrmlings the second she's out
"Won't you five calm your tails?! Your sibling and their young are fine."
"And the firstborn?"
"They're doing much better and seem strong. You can stop panicking."
Though they're less intense about this afterwards, everytime Adamas leaves the den she's met with five wyrms staring at her and eagerly awaiting any updates
"Do they have names yet?"
"Ebur said they did pick already, you'll learn them once you meet the younglings"
"UUUUGHHH"
"MAAAAN"
"Stop being dramatic, it's only a few more days"
The five also get an idea to make the twins little clothes so they can stay warm and cosy
They get to gift them to Ebur once they finally meet the little ones
One day, after nearly a week, Adamas leaves the den to see the five wyrms once again waiting on her and she sighs heavily before smiling
"Alright, who wants to meet the babies?"
And they all get SO excited, before she has to remind them to keep calm to not spook their sibling or his kids
They go into the den one by one, which is thankfully big enough for all of them, where Ebur is laying in the corner, curled up around two little sleepy boundless and purring to them
His siblings are just awe struck at the babies and coo to them, showering them and Ebur with so many compliments
"They look a little odd for wyrmlings though, don't they?"
Io proceeds to get very roughly jabbed in the side by Fossor
"Ow, what the hell?!"
"Don't be an ass. Obviously they're not full wyrms, idiot, they're going to look different."
Though none of them is yet to clock that they're half-root
They get the babies thick clothes so they can crawl outside the den (under incredibly strick supervision by all 7 of their family members) once they're big enough
"Ebur, quit grooming them! They won't combust into flames if they have a speck of dirt or snow on them!"
"Mrrrr"
Melpomene: So, how did you name them?
Ebur: The firstborn is Hallow and the second born is Amaryllis
Io: Hm, weird names for wyrms
Ebur: 💦💦💦
Fossor, readying to hit him again:
Hallow, crawling towards Io with intent to Bite:
Io: Ohhhh little lad on a mission, what will they do? Beware the big bad wyrm
Hallow: Grrrr
Io:*casually just rolls away*
Hallow, flopping down and looking at him offended before SCREAMING angrily to voice their displeasure at inability to bite and maim uncle: EEEAAAAAAAAA
Gonna crawl towards him with even more determination
Adustus: Snrk- Stop giving the poor kid a workout and let them bite you
Io: If they wanna bite me they should prove it by getting me the legitimate way
Adamas: that one has a strong set of lungs
Ebur: mhm
Ebur: ...Was I this loud at their age?
Adamas: Absolutely. The loudest
Ebur: .......oh
Adamas: yeah. oh. Little snot
Ebur: hey!
(Mean to him <3)
Just wait till they figure out the connection between Amaryllis and Amanita
Of course loverboy would name the baby after a flower LMAO
".....snrk"
"shut up. shut up. shut the fuck up. I dont wanna hear it. Shut your bitchass up."
Start teasing him that he is SO smitten and in love
None know just how right they are
He's gonna die or commit murder at this rate
Ebur being all "it's not like that, it's not like that" and then when he sees Amanita again they're all lovey dovey and cute
I think Adamas' group was in the groove for like 2 years so they did have time to develop a meaningful relationship, though it's still nothing compared to how they're gonna be in a few years KFBDJFH
Io: not like that my ass—
Ebur: Shut the fuck—
Amanita: :? Not like what my darling?
Adustus: he’s been swearing up and down it isn’t love and he hasn’t totally been courting you
Amanita, amused: aaaww my dear Ebur, so now you’re shy with your affections~?
Ebur, sputtering: Ami, please not in front of my family...
Ossum: AMI
Ebur: I BITE
Ossum: Yeah, I bet ~your Ami~ knows a thing or two about that, huh~?
Ebur: GRRRRR
Amanita, laughing a little: I haven’t heard you growl that loud since we first met my wyrm~!
Ossum: good gods y’all are nauseating
Adamas: Her wyrm, huh?
Ebur: NOT you too
Amanita, not helping as she nuzzles him: My wyrm~
She's having so much fun <3 He can't help but smile though
Ebur: You're...impossible, my darling
Amanita: 🥰
Adamas: So, how long have you been together?
Amanita: Officially? Only one year, but we've been courting for much longer than that~
Adamas: Oh, you're official hm? Ebur, you never told me you've found yourself a mate. Look at you growing up on me, my youngest wyrmling has a mate and children already
Ebur: My dame, please
Amanita: ....children?
Adamas: ... you didn't know?
Ebur: Hey i was suppose to surprise her with that dame!
Ebur: Plus, I only found out after I left, not like I could tell her I was-
Amanita, grabbing him: Darling, what's that about children?
Ebur: .... We have two my darling.
Amanita: We have children!?
Ebur: yes. Our...... time together has resulted in me becoming gravid. We have two healthy children
Amanita, shaking him: Show me!!
Ebur, laughing: Well, stop trying to give me whiplash and I will!
(They're so adorable it makes me sick <- Ebur's siblings probably)
Presents her with the two little guys with a big smile. Tells her their names and she kneels down to hold them both and nuzzle and give kisses and be so so emotionally happy about it
The rest of the family give them some privacy so they can have a proper reunion and Amanita can meet her children
She's so SO happy
Scoops all three of them up and nuzzles him, looks at them as if they're her whole world
"Oh, my darling, they're so beautiful, so perfect...I love them..." She whispers, her breath caught in her throat for a moment, "...I love you."
His heart skips a beat and he nuzzles in close and kisses her cheek, "I love you too..."
And the babies are gonna ruin the moment and squeaking in protest about being held <3
"ooohhh my little sprouts, I need to plant you in my den and watch you grow big and strong youre so precious~"
"wait like. Actually bury them??"
"A little yeah. They should be able to root I think"
"...hm!"
"...Unless they're more wyrm in that regard?"
"Well, they seemed to do just fine on meat, but there's no harm in trying other things. Maybe a combination will be best for them?"
"Oh dear..."
"Don't worry, my love, we'll figure it out together"
Theyre rowdy and like to run around and play
but for sleepy time they get to be buried in the dirt. Makes em giggle and keeps them warm
OH the convo between Adamas and his siblings in the meanwhile
Adustus: ...He's gonna leave, isn't he?
Adamas: Hm?
Adustus: I mean, with our group we can't stay anywhere for too long, especially in a small groove like this, we'd run out of prey. And a root wouldn't be able to keep up for long, they're stationary. And...I doubt he'd leave her, just look at them.
Adamas: ...He seems happy. It'd be good for the little ones to have both parents too.
Amanita, planting the babies for the first time:
Quercus, waking her up at ass o'clock after he sensed two new seedlings near her: 👀 👀 👀
Amanita: huh wh
Quercus: KIDS?? KIDS?? DO I HAVE GRANDKIDS PRINCESS???
Amanita: pfft. yes.
Amanita:
Amanita, internally: wait shit fuck
Quercus: oh hey that wyrm problem came back. Lemme drop by and see how my daughter is doing since im not busy
What a fucking reunion that would be huh
Adamas: I've heard you want to leave? Maybe you should come with us, then, it'd be easier for you
Amanita: Ah, but would you like to leave now? Because it's already almost the end of spring, I don't think it'd be a good idea for me to leave now, I might not survive winter if I'm not rooted down somewhere by autumn. We were planning to leave early next spring, if you'd like to live in my groove until then you're fully welcome to
Adamas: But what of your parent? Wouldn't they notice?
Amanita: It's alright, he didn't came by last time you were here for over two years, I'm sure it's fine now, he won't even notice 😊 (narrator voice he did notice)
"Hey sweetheart how are you.... doing...."
Amanita, with the family of wyrms just hanging out in her den: .......... Daaaadddddddd what a suuurrrppprriiissseee💦
Her just trying to cover up this fairly large family of wyrms
Adamas getting defensive when Quercus is questioning Amanita
Starts growling and pushes to the front of them
Quercus: Stay out of this, wyrm
Adamas: Like hell I am! I'm not letting you step all over my family or my daughter
Amanita: It's really not nece- daughter??? 🥺
Quercus: Daughter?!
Adamas: Yes, daughter, she's my child's partner so as much of a family to me as my own children!
Amanita's just trying so fucking hard not to get emotional and cry over this now
too bad Quercus is bristling at that
Amanita and Quercus are emotional over this but in completely opposite directions
Amanita has to get herself together to step between them before it ends in a fight
GOD. I AM SO EMOTIONAL OVER THIS. AMANITA BEING ACCEPTED INTO HIS WYRM FANILY AFTER THEY SEE HOW MUCH SHE AND EBUR LOVE EACH OTHER 🥺 SO CUTE
She gets to root in and do some wyrm watching with her tubers
Amanita, to the kids: look how silly your father can be. Look, watch
Amanita, wiggling a root:
Ebur: 👁️👁️
His siblings watching him paw at the root
Adustus: ...Dude...
Fossor: Good fates he's domesticated
Adamas: …… oh how the mighty fall
She always knows how to embarrass him in front of his family 🥰
Zooming through her roots to play while Adamas wonders how he inherited such weird quirks
Adamas: I should have judged my mates better, what is this...
Ossum: hey they're the only one Like That
Melp: yeah we’re normal about things
Ebur: Snrk- Yeah, just wait till you find your own mates
Io: I think you're just weird, actually
Ebur: At least I have a mate and children, you lonely ass
Amanita delights in how silly the tubers are. Truly the most delightful thing
Ebur's family think it's funny how the twins have been dubbed the tubers since they came here
But hey, it fits
I bet Amanita sometimes just casually steals her wyrm away
Just picks him up with her roots like "I'll be taking that~"
They're so lovely dovey it's nauseating
Even Adamas teases him about her swooping him off his feet
And he can't keep the smile off his face when he talks about her or hide the blush when they tease him so he really can't hide it
Ebur and the tubers also sleep in her den, keep in her tangle of roots.
The others can set up a den as they please
He at first set up a den near her instead of with her but it was literally abandoned on night one
It's his den in spirit
The second his siblings realise its been abandoned and how fast he's getting teased AGAIN
“Shouldve just saved the time and effort and not done that altogether.”
“I didn’t ask you”
Adamas: No, I bet they tried really hard to use that den but really couldn't help themself be apart from her, didn't you?
Ebur: ...grrrr
Adamas: Snrk, seems I got it right
Amanita: you made a separate den from me???
Adamas: case n point
Ebur: Ooooh, God forbid I want to sleep with my partner! You insufferable twats
Adamas: You’re such a fucking sap
Amanita: Oh but they're my sap~ And I think it's so cute~
Gets a collective "Bleh" out of them
The two looking over their tubers playing with Ebur's siblings
Amanita: Oh, these kids are great, I love them so much
Ebur: Mhm
Amanita: We should have more~
Ebur, sputtering: Amanita!
Io: HEY WE HEARD THAT YOU FUCKING WEIRDOS
Amanita: what? You didn’t think I was going to want just one clutch did you love?
Ebur: w-what—
Amanita, curling around him: I have an urge for my seeds to spread my wyrm~
Io, gagging:
Fossor: What the hell, you two
Ebur: Not- not in front of my family, my love...
Io: literally traumatizing. What is wrong with them both
The rest is pretty much just VERY half assed future stuff and this is long enough as is 😐 So like. Yeah.
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fluffy-critter · 6 months
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delicioussshame · 11 months
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So I was going to post what is, sigh, part 4 of the TLJ/SY/OLBH AU, but then I saw that I hadn’t posted the previous parts here despite it being in the tumblr compilation? So have links: main fic, part 1, part 2.
____________________________________________
Shen Qingqiu will be kind. He will not mock Liu Qingge to his face. He, after all, understands how delicate the situation they were thrust in can be. It’s not his fault Shen Qingqiu finds the idea that Liu Qingge of all people is being courted by not one, but multiple demons hilarious.
Shen Qingqiu sets his poker face before making his presence known. “Shidi, hello. You haven’t stopped by in a while, so I thought I would check on you for once. How are you doing?”
Liu Qingge pokes out of another room, a frazzled look on his face. “Shen Qingqiu.”
“Indeed.”
He frowns. “Is there something wrong? Do you need help”
“No, I’m fine. Your disciples are doing a fine job of keeping demons away from my peak. Send them my regards.” They’re not doing a perfect job, Shen Qingqiu has had to send enterprising demons away, more or less violently, himself to protect his own disciples from their overeager pursuits a few times, but he can manage this much. It’s harder to explain to some people why they should not be encouraging members of another race with varying levels of comprehension regarding human morals to court them. “I’m not here about myself. I was wondering if Shidi needed support? You’ve been so busy fighting intruders, have you had any time for your own problems?” He’s not stupid enough not to recognise the deflection technique. Liu Qingge has to be busying himself with his preferred activity, fighting, not to think about the sect master writing appropriately diplomatic refusals to offers of bloody, bloody marriages.
Liu Qingge’s expression instantly darkens. “I’m fine.”
That was the least enthusiastic “I’m fine” Shen Qingqiu has ever heard. “I’m sure you are. Why wouldn’t you be? It’s nice, being popular.”
…Ah, damn it. He told himself he wouldn’t poke the wound. “I’m sorry. I spoke too much. I just wanted Liu-shidi to know he could count on me if he needed someone.”
He can see the storm clouds gathering around Liu Qingge. “I don’t need help. I’m busy. Leave.”
It would be nice if there was a way of telling Liu Qingge that Shen Qingqiu was one of the few people that actually were not there to witness his shame, but then he would have to explain to him why he wasn’t. Liu Qingge seems like he’s one of the few peak lords who have not figured it out. He would rather keep it that way, thanks. The chances of Liu Qingge attempting to distract himself by trying, and quite possibly failing, to slaughter the current dynasty of the demon realm are much too close to a hundred percent for Shen Qingqiu’s liking. “Fine. I see I’m disturbing Shidi. I’ll take my leave. Shidi can just remember he can visit whenever he wishes.” Shen Qingqiu might miss their sparring sessions just a little bit, okay? He gets that in his current mood, Liu Qingge might be too angry for him to handle, but still.
Well, he’ll leave for now. Liu Qingge will end up beating enough demons to soothe his bruised ego someday.
Hopefully soon, because there is a demon in his bamboo house when he returns.
Shen Qingqiu inwardly sighs. This isn’t even the first time this happens. Demons who manage to enter Cang Qiong often have little idea of who they want to reach, or which peak hosts them. Some spots the bamboo house and figure it’s as good a starting point as any. “I understand that we are currently negotiating peace, but by human standards, showing up uninvited in someone’s home is quite rude. Please return to your realm and wait until the negotiations are over with. We will be in a better position to receive a delegation properly once the terms are settled.”
The demon looks strangely nervous, lost in a somewhat endearing way? He’s obviously high-ranking enough to have been at the banquet, though Shen Qingqiu does not remember him. “Junshang shouldn’t have to wait that long.”
…Nothing about this comment is good. “I haven’t introduced myself. I am Shen Qingqiu, peak lord of Qing Jing. You are?”
“My name is Zhuzhi-Lang.”
…Yep, he’s in trouble. That’s Tianlang-Jun’s beloved nephew. Rumor has it they are closer than Tianlang-Jun and his own son.
A high-ranking demon indeed. “Can I ask why you are visiting? Maybe you are looking for the sect master? I will escort you to Qiong Ding right away.” As much as he hates having to do this, Yue Qingyuan is better positioned to handle this than he is.
“I’m not. I’m here for Peak Lord Shen.”
Sweat rolls down his back. “And why is that? I cannot conceive of a reason for us to meet like this.” If only Liu Qingge had followed him home, he would not be in this mess. Liu Qingge would have taken one look at this one and pulled out his sword. He would have taken all the fallout, and no one would have blamed him for it because what else is Liu Qingge supposed to do when he’s faced with a demon? One intruding on a peak lord no less?
Shen Qingqiu is not Liu Qingge. He has no idea whether he can take on Zhuzhi-Lang, but he doubts it. He’s not a defeating-heavenly-demon type of cultivator.
“Junshang wants to see you. He’s been waiting, but since you won’t come, I’ll take you to him.”
Nope. Not happening. “I’m afraid I can’t come with you. As I’ve said before, the negotiations aren’t over. We are still enemy factions. I will not be visiting the demon realm on its ruler’s whims, especially not by myself. If my presence is absolutely needed, then it should be requested via formal channels.” It won’t be a marriage proposal, right? There’s no way, right? Sure, the ruler of the demon realm is a known widower and thus available, but he has options. Many, many options. Hell, Shen Qingqiu is certain some sects have offered some of their own to get an advantage.
Shen Qingqiu freezes when something cool and… scaly? slides up his ankle.
He looks down. “What is that?”
Zhuzhi-Lang seems genuinely remorseful when he replies. “One of the many snakes that follow me around. This one is poisonous. Please don’t try to remove it.”
“Could you please get it off?”
“I can’t.”
“Allow me to doubt that.”
Zhuzhi-Lang does not address this. “If Peak Lord Shen follows me back to the realm, it should get bored and leave without issue. If he doesn’t, it will get lonely. Friends will surely join it.”
For fuck’s sake why is this his life. “If Tianlang-Jun wanted to see me so badly, why send someone to… invite me in this way? I still don’t understand why a formal request wasn’t made. My disappearance will cause issues between our realms.”
“I’m sure Junshang will explain everything.”
That does not fill Shen Qingqiu with confidence, but nothing about this exchange does, especially not what he believes to be a second snake settling around his other ankle. He has no trust in his ability to resist poison just because he’s a cultivator, because he is a cultivator in Proud Immortal Demon Way.
“Let’s say I do not want to follow you. What then?”
Zhuzhi-Lang looks even more remorseful. “I can’t disappoint Junshang.”
Shen Qingqiu supposes that’s answer enough. “I will be sure to explain your role in this situation when the sect demands reparations.”
Zhuzhi-Lang shrugs. “Junshang will smooth things over.”
Of course he will.
Maybe he should let the snakes bite him. It would be less painful for everyone than whatever Yue Qingyuan will decide to do when he learns that Shen Qingqiu was kidnapped from his own home.
___________________
Zhuzhi-Lang probably did not lie regarding his identity. If Shen Qingqiu gets more than a few second glances while they wander the palace, no one dares ask questions of Zhuzhi-Lang.
Maybe the snake curled around his neck also makes his situation clear enough that they figure he’s not a threat. It’s a shame, really, because if his life did not hang on not pissing off the seven snakes he’s now carrying, he might try to pet them. Some of them look friendly.
Not friendly enough to calm his rising anxiety at returning so close to the scene of the crime. Treading familiar grounds is a clear reminder that this isn’t just about surviving kidnapping via misguided snake handlers; it’s a return to one of the worst moments of his life, and to the side of at least one of the most dangerous individuals he has had the displeasure of meeting.
Their journey ends in what looks like a study. A very fancy study, with shelves of books Shen Qingqiu really wants to take a second look at, except there is an individual sat at the desk and that stops him from wandering around.
Tianlang-Jun looks politely surprised. “Peak Lord Shen. What an unexpected pleasure.”
Shen Qingqiu steels himself. He had guessed that this was an independent action from Zhuzhi-Lang, because he got the idea that the young man might be a bit strong-headed. “The feeling is reciprocated. You have a very… insistent nephew. Who might wish to take his snakes back now that he has me where he wanted me.”
He’s sure even Tianlang-Jun could feel his complete lack of bafflement when snakes start sliding out of his clothes to instead curl all over Zhuzhi-Lang.
Shen Qingqiu grits his teeth when Tianlang-Jun’s response is only amusement. “You’ll have to forgive him. My dear nephew is very loyal. He does whatever he thinks best for me at all times, no matter the consequences.” He turns toward Zhuzhi-Lang, gracing him with a fond smile almost out of place on him. Not enough manipulative charm. “As always, I appreciate the lengths you go through for my sake, though I sometimes do wish you’d think things through before you act. Let’s talk more about this later? I apparently have a guest to entertain.”
Yeah, no. “Please don’t bother yourself on my account. I want nothing more than to return to Cang Qiong. Let me go, and I’ll be gone before you know it. This way, no one has to learn about this incident, and negotiations can continue as planned. Surely you agree this is the best plan?”
The door closes behind him to announce Zhuzhi-Lang’s departure. “Nonsense. Why would I waste my nephew’s kind attention in this way? You’re here. This,” as he gestures to whatever paperwork he was working on, “is unimportant. I can certainly afford to welcome a guest from Cang Qiong Sect properly.”
Shen Qingqiu has no desire to be around him, or his son and his control over Shen Qingqiu’s body by way of a terrible plot device. “I still don’t understand why you would bother with me. I might be a peak lord, but I’m not anyone particularly important to the current talks. Why would your nephew take the time to… accompany me here?”
“My nephew does not concern himself with the talks. He trusts I will lead them to fruition, as I will. He is, however, very concerned with my wellbeing, and does like to go out of his way to please me. I might have mentioned you a few times, and it was all it took.”
In what terms, pray tell? Is Zhuzhi-Lang even old enough to learn of the details of their acquaintance? Probably, since Luo Binghe certainly is, but he does feel younger than his cousin. “Please don’t mention me anymore then. Many would enjoy the attention; how about you turn yours toward them?” Seriously, beside radiating evil-mastermind energy, the man has it all: the looks, the wealth, the power. Shen Qingqiu still has no idea why he’s bothering with him.
This also means Shen Qingqiu can’t afford to anger him, because he would not survive it.
“Your insistence on evading me is starting to be hurtful. I do believe I did right by you in your time of need. You certainly showed all signs of enjoyment, and I do mean all of them. Why are you so reluctant to be in my presence?”
And he tried so hard to keep his composure, but it is now a lost cause. He knows he’s blushing, but he can’t help it. “I can’t believe you don’t understand why the situation is embarrassing to me, or why I would prefer to keep it quiet.”
“I don’t, actually. You were not the target of the event. Everyone from your delegation was also affected. If anything, considering you felt the symptoms quickly enough to leave the feast, you were probably more sensitive to whatever was used than most; all your actions can easily be forgiven in such circumstances. Not that I would spread tales of your deeds. I would much prefer to keep them to myself.”
Shen Qingqiu does not choke on dark laughter, but it’s a close one. Keeping it to himself was doomed from the start considering Luo Binghe’s role in all this. Now, many at Cang Qiong are also aware. Secrecy is impossible.
Not that he wants to share that fact. His cheeks are already red enough without revealing that their… indiscretion is somewhat public knowledge.
Shen Qingqiu pulls the fan he brought with him to fight the rising heat away, “You are not just another member of the demonic delegation, and neither is your son. I could be considered compromised. I just want to put this behind me and move on.”
Tianlang-Jun reaches for his cheek, and for some reason Shen Qingqiu lets him. It’s as if he’s rooted to the spot. “As I said, I don’t plan on making our relationship public, but I don’t see why that stops the two of us from getting better acquainted. I remembered you reveling in every minute. I’m sure it would be just as delightful the second time around, especially since there would be no interloper coming between us.”
Shen Qingqiu is outraged he even dared voice that option out loud, but for some reason his tongue is like lead in his mouth. Punching the man might be possible, but it seems like that would take so much effort, not to mention there are parts of him that don’t disagree as much as…
The. Complete. And. Utter. Asshole.
The shock of the discovery allows him to step on Tianlang-Jun’s foot as hard as he can manage. “You! The blood! That was you!” Because he is certain that is what is happening to him right now. This insufferable viper has been playing him for so long and still dares to try and seduce him like this! Unbelievable!
“Ah, so you knew.”
“How could I not! You weren’t exactly subtle about it! It’s not like I could sleep through it! I thought it was Luo Binghe because of that reputation of his, but it was you all along! Seriously, if you’re that against the talks, end them and let’s go back to war. Why waste your time on playing me like this!”
“Oh dear, you’re misunderstanding me. This has nothing to do with the negotiations. I was honest when I said I have no intention of making this public, and I knew that neither would you. If I wanted the negotiations over with, I would just murder one of your envoys and that would be that. No, no, I do like the company of humans. I am doing what needs to be done to facilitate that. I just also enjoyed your own, personal, company, and, as much as you might wish to deny it, the feeling was very much reciprocated. I was trying to get you to accept yourself. Despite our short acquaintance, I could already tell there is much I could teach you about yourself. I could also tell you would not be open to discussing the matter, so I forced it. My darling nephew pushed the deadline forward a bit, but maybe it could be to your advantage. If you were to let me in, I would guarantee you you would not regret it.”
Shen Qingqiu cannot possibly be held responsible for murder in those circumstances. No judge would ever find him guilty.
Tianlang-Jun would kill him first, but Shen Qingqiu would inflict as much pain as he can before he goes. “That’s it. You’re apparently too dense to get it, so here it is: I have zero interest in a repeat performance. I do not want to spend any time, in any form, with you or your son. Your whole realm, not to mention a significant part of the human realm, I’m sure, wants nothing more than to sit on your dick. Go spend time with them and leave. me. the. fuck. alone.”
Shen Qingqiu’s heart sinks into his stomach when Tianlang-Jun only looks thrilled. “Darling, I do love a challenge.”
It takes all the winds off his sails. “Just kill me now and be done with it.” How is this his fate? Why is this happening? How long before Luo Binghe shows up, because Zhuzhi-Lang did not have him walk through secret corridors. He was seen, Luo Binghe will know about it, and he’ll come here. Because this is Shen Qingqiu’s life now.
“It would be so easy to remind you how pleasurable life can be. All you need to do is say yes.”
“Why bother with my consent? Your blood flows into my veins. You already demonstrated a willingness to use it for your own amusement against my will.”
The moue Tianlang-Jun graces him with is incitation to murder. “That would be no fun.”
Shen Qingqiu can’t with this man. At all. “Please send me back to my home. Please. You’re not going to get what you want from me, not if I have any say about it.”
Tianlang-Jun lets out a long, drawn-out sigh. “Your life could be so much more interesting if you gave it a chance, but fine. I will let you sleep on it for a while.”
Shen Qingqiu perks up. “Actual, uninterrupted sleep?” It’s been so long.
“I thought cultivators did not need sleep?”
“Lies. I need it. Lots of it.”
“My bad then. I will be more careful next time.”
“No next time.”
Tianlang-Jun’s answering smile is blinding in his lack of assertion.
Maybe Shen Qingqiu will ask Liu Qingge to marry him. Two birds, one stone. He’ll get it.
“I know you have people who can open portals. Send me home already.”
“Your wish is my command.”
“I’ve never heard a more obvious lie.”
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spacetravelwriter · 2 years
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Langblr Reactivation Challenge
Week 1
Day 2: Write a list of goals you have for your target languages. Make both long term and short term goals. An overall goal could be to have the ability to talk with native speakers with ease and a smaller goal would be to finally learn that difficult grammar point that's been plaguing you for ages. How will you achieve them?
Basque: my main target language
Weekly: I plan on sticking to 1 lesson a week from the book "The Basque language: A practical introduction" by Alan R. King. I'll stick to 1 lesson weekly because I bring my notebook with me to uni and do excercises during boring lectures and breaks I have in between (15-min breaks) and I don't even have to do anything at home. It's easier for me sticking to a habit like this.
Small habit: listen to a podcast 2-3x a week (it doesn't matter if I don't, because I listen to Basque songs a lot and on a daily basis anyway). These podcasts aren't to be listened only once because my level is still too low to understand. At this point I just get to understand more of the context of the podcast every time I listen to the same one.
In the next month (until 2023): I need to review all grammar I learned because I feel like I brushed over some parts a bit. I won't force myself to master that grammar but I need a reminder. Same goes for vocab, especially those fillers, words like "just, anyway" etc.
In 6 months: I want to be comfortable enough to go on Tandem app and talk to euskaldunak there. My goal until May-June is to become conversational, so that would be my test to check if I managed it.
Spanish: daily used language
Short-term goals: I don't have because I don't even sit to study anymore, I just pick up things by using it online all the time.
Small habits: I already do the comprehension excercises by listening to Real Madrid players speak Spanish, but I want to find some fun podcasts to listen to sometimes
1 thing on my wishlist: I want to read a book in Spanish, I have bought a middle grade book which I haven't yet had the courage to start because I had a bad experience at trying to read German books, but I know my Spanish is much better, I just kind of have this fear
Long-term goal: take the DELE C1 exam in autumn 2023/spring 2024 (I'm missing some of the basic vocabulary, even for A1, so I need to work on that)
German: I need to regain the level I had
I'm not excited about this because my German is school-taught and I finished school 2 years ago. Now I have a completely different language learning system and I don't know how to apply it to the language I had a broken system for studying. I want to get back to it, hopefully next year, but I still don't know how
Figure out which language to learn next
I won't force myself for this but Here's the list of languages I think I want to take up (from most excited about to somewhat excited/not sure at all):
Japanese
Arabic
Korean
Portuguese
Polish
Turkish
Russian
Keep in mind this list can change anytime, I'm kind of getting the idea of learning Finnish or Hungarian, so I might just randomly take up one of those. My brain is unpredictable but it's also better to listen to my guts than force myself to decide on a language. This is exactly how I took up Basque 😅
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longbobmckenzie · 2 years
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long bob recommends
Looking for something to read and not sure where to start? Hopefully this will help! There are tons of great fics in the LITG fandom, so this list was difficult to whittle down, but here are some of my faves! Some of these I've reread, some I plan to reread some day, others I'm currently enjoying for the first time or read long ago and remember liking. Also note that this is by no means a comprehensive list - there are absolutely more fics out there that are worth reading! And I’m always happy to give out additional recs if people have specific LIs or tropes they’re looking for, or villa/AU, etc. Just shoot me an ask, a DM, or find me wherever! In the interest of keeping this post (somewhat) manageable, I’ve created a page on my blog which includes additional recommendations, which you can find here! I’ll be adding to that page with new favourites as well. And if you still need more, check out @becangle's Recommendations List as well!
*edited 12/19/2022 to remove fics that have since been deleted
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These are the completed works, the ones where you can be assured that you won’t have to wait weeks between updates for, never knowing if they’ll even be updated again... (are you scarred? I’m scarred)
Bobby
An Infinite Deal of Nothing by EskiiX (post-Villa)
Takes place after Bobby leaves the villa without finding love. Really great fic with a relatable MC.
Be My Hero and I'll Be Yours by ChronicComicObsession (AU)
Got a taste for superheroes? Go on an adventure with this fic (and its sequel!) with very well-written action scenes and a spicy little romance!
Happy Ever After, Inc. by ThoracicOrchid (AU)
Fluffy fake relationship fic in which MC hires a fake boyfriend service to try to get her ex back. It’s so adorable and feels like watching a movie.
Naptime by EmeraldEmbers07 (Villa)
A friendship couple that starts to realize there’s something more between them. An oldie but a goodie! (And for the smut lovers, there’s a kinky threesome sequel)
Roadside Honey by Colorkiller (AU)
Bobby falls in love with MC, as he tends to do. She’s a drummer in a band, and has some other things to take care of before they can be together.
Say When by twofoursixohone (Villa/post-Villa )
The story of a Casa Amor girl who makes a connection… but doesn’t get picked to stay in the villa.
Sick Like Me by neld13 (AU)
Smut, smut, and slowly developing feelings when two people start sleeping together and can’t seem to quit each other.
The Greatest of Them All by throughthejunobush (Villa)
All the frustrations of a Gary route coming to a boiling point… and opening MC’s eyes up to what’s been in front of her all along.
Wait for it by becangle (Villa)
A villa fic that doesn’t feel like a villa fic (which is something I look for). Bobby pines for an MC that’s way out of his league, but she’s not perfect. A great will they/won’t they story.
What Other People Say by ThoracicOrchid (AU)
It’s like a Hallmark movie – things go wrong for a movie star so she moves back to her small town, doesn’t wanna be there, has some stuff to learn, and meets a really nice guy… It’s so fun and so good!
Whiskey on Your Lips by margotmuses (AU)
Definitely one of my favourites, the characters in this one have such great chemistry, and there are so many amazing (and well-written) moments in this!
Bobby +
Couplings, Cupcakes and Cranes… Oh My! by Kittidot (Villa - Bobby and Gary)
I’m not a Gary stan, but this is a fun and sexy read in which Bobby and Gary, um... have a moment? And then MC (coupled with Bobby) finds them and they turn the focus to her.
Of twos and threes by Pine (Villa - Bobby and Noah)
Uniquely formatted through daily prompts that provide snapshots of the villa journey of a polyamorous MC in non-chronological order.
The One That Got Away by neld13 (post-Villa)
Everyone knows I love a messy MC, and you can’t find worse than Harper.
Noah
Don't Disappoint Me by throughthejunobush (post-Villa)
One of the first fics I ever read, and recently re-read. It’s still as good as I remember, and even after 2 years there were parts of this fic that I distinctly remembered.
Figure it Out & Out of the Black by Follies_Fixture (Villa/post-Villa)
What happens when a rockstar with a crush on Noah drunkenly tweets and finds herself as a Casa Amor girl, and then what happens when they go back to the real world and are faced with real problems.
History written in moans and writhing by Pine (AU)
A unique take on what happens when you combine research with pornography.
Rosehill House by Ariendiel (AU)
A beautifully written regency romance that hits all the right notes. There’s also a oneshot sequel for Bobby!
Jake
In My Veins by ChronicComicObsession (AU)
MC is Bobby’s sister, they’re both vampires, and Jake is a hot chef. A must-read.
Reasons to be Brave by MamaMiaOhMy (Villa)
A fleshed-out villa fic that explores Season 1 through Jake’s eyes as he falls in love with the MC. There’s also an incomplete sequel.
Other
Caught in the Act by throughthejunobush (Villa - Lucas)
A fun fake relationship between Lucas and MC intended to make others jealous that turns into feelings.
Ego and Enmity, Hannah's Song by becangle (Villa)
Hannah’s fanfiction of her time in the villa, full of big words that she doesn’t actually know how to use. A super fun read!
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These are slightly riskier -- some are actively (or occasionally) being updated. Others are abandoned, or their status is up in the air. But they’re all still worth reading, even the ones that may never be continued.
Bobby
Begin Again by fuseboxmusebox (AU)
Nobody does fluff better, although it’s also agonizing waiting for them to KISS! (hehe… tugs collar)
Maybe, sort of, kind of, possibly by Blueberry_Cupcakes (Villa)
Do you like banter? Flirtatious moments between clueless characters? Long chapters? A villa fic that mixes up canon but also focuses more on the main characters? Then this one’s for you! This incomplete fic gives me major writer’s envy. I’m not sure if it will ever be continued, but it’s worth reading.
One Night Stand by ItsRealityBoo (AU)
What happens when the person you just had a one-night stand with turns out to be your new client? Really enjoy this one, it’s fun watching them try to deny their feelings for each other for the sake of professionalism… (key word: trying)
she plays bass by y2kjoons (AU)
Punk Bobby! It’s only a few chapters and not long enough for Bobby and MC to get together, but it’s really fun and well-written. Also worth reading for the Seb/Nicky moment alone.
The Sun in My Eyes by christy_sparkle (Villa)
I mean, if you haven’t read this one yet, where have you been? It’s angsty, it’s smutty, it’s got incredible depth… I am (impatiently) waiting for more!
Henrik
Powder Days by Colorkiller (AU)
It’s a snowboarding AU, but that doesn’t have to be your thing in order to read this fic. Friends-with-benefits turned lovers, breakups, makeups… It’s angsty, and I love it. And Henrik is precious.
Moss, Eternal by Colorkiller (Villa)
Featuring the most iconic MC you’ll ever meet, who wants the only thing she can’t have: Henrik. It’s a blast to read!
Lucas
Damaged Goods by Finality2020 (post-Villa)
MC marries Gary after Love Island, but things fall apart when Hannah publishes her novel… so MC runs away to heal and process things, and Lucas follows.
The Power Couple by BattleBelle23 (Villa)
Fake relationship with hidden feelings? Yes. Neat take on a villa fic!
Noah
Noah’s Game by SilentScreaming (Villa)
Not for the faint of heart, this is Bad Noah at his finest as he tries to fuck his way through the villa… without getting caught.
The Fortunate Ones by theriverlea (Villa)
MC is a Casa Amor girl with a crush on Noah, but Noah is loyal to Hope… Really neat take on the villa, and it’s interesting to get a glimpse into what CA was like for the boys.
Multiple/Other
Island Villa Apartments by KittiDot (AU)
Unique fic that follows multiple islanders living in an apartment complex, interweaving their stories of love and friendship together. It’s fluffy and fun!
Shiny Demon by throughthejunobush (Villa – Seb)
The only way to get me to read an S3 fic is for it to be written by one of my favourite authors. This adds depth to the characters (Fusebox could never) and even sometimes makes me forget that it’s S3!
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When I started reading fanfiction, I focused on chaptered fics because I wanted full stories that I could invest myself in. I was wrong - sometimes stories are just as good (or better!) when they’re told in a single chapter.
Bobby
Beyond Sunrise by becangle (AU)
Strangers forced together, road trip, one bed… This is trope heaven, and Becca’s strong dialogue brings it together perfectly!
Bittersweet by Blueberry_Cupcakes (AU)
Bobby falls in love with a girl who’s falling in love with someone else… It truly is a bittersweet fic – so good it hurts.
On Repeat by nutshikas (Villa)
Definitely a fic that lives in my head rent-free! Bobby keeps going through the villa on a time loop, getting more and more frustrated and exhausted as he tries different things in an attempt to break the spell…
Henrik and Henrik/Lucas
Just one more bad decision by Kittidot (post-Villa)
This one’s extra special because not only was it a gift for me, but it includes my OC Magnus! It’s so good, one I’ve already read multiple times and plan to go back to again and again.
the gang bullies Henrik into a threesome by Colorkiller (post-Villa)
MC decides she wants to have a threesome, so she ropes Lucas and Henrik into obliging her. Sense of humour required.
Sooner Than You’d Think by OverdressedandUnderwhelmed (Villa)
A perfect look into Lucas and Henrik’s relationship in the villa. This is now canon on a non-Lurik route.
Lucas and Lucas/Bobby
Lucas Koh: An Erotic Life by becangle (post-Villa)
A tongue-in-cheek take on how so many Bobby fics use Lucas as the villain who can’t help but cheat on MC. It’s perfect! But not as perfect as Lucas’s hair.
Wishful Drinking by margotmuses (AU)
A masterful enemies-to-lovers Bobcas fic. I’m still in awe at how rich this fic is considering the length!
Levi
Mer de Désir by margotmuses (AU – Levi)
Levi as a French comte in pre-revolution France? I never knew I needed this until I read it. More Levi fics, please!
Swimming Pool Deep by thesepromises (pre-Villa)
You truly have to read this one for yourself (not a tall order – it’s short!) to understand the genius of this fic. Wow.
Seb
So Good Staying Here by christy_sparkle (AU)
Christy’s Seb characterization is on point, as is her smut (as always!). I’m blushing just thinking about it.
Arjun
Golden Thread by starsarestars (AU - Arjun)
A lot of people might write off this fic because it’s Arjun, but please don’t! It’s such a unique, intriguing AU that’s charming and hilarious, with vivid imagery and a really fun rivalry. I can’t do it justice, just read it!
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thespiral · 3 years
Text
INTRODUCING THE 80S DOCUMENT... a comprehensive doc on this funny mentioned-only raider faction that is incredibly fucking cool and a crime no one has mentioned them yet
this is more or less a compilation of different canon, semi-canon and fanon references! most of it taken from the hearts of iron 4 mod old world blues, joshua sawyer's simple and sprinkled some fanon from my head in here as well. this is to hopefully make other people aware of these guys!
a MASSIVE thanks to my partner alex for helping me write this up, the tops server members for lore council, esseress and everyone else who i rambled on and on about these guys. thank you so much
you can find the document here!
(and also under the cut!)
The 80s are a gang of raiders that operate along the Northern California 80 Freeway, mostly in the region northeast of the lawless, uncontrolled city of Sacramento. They occupy their own territory stretching between New California and the shores of Great Salt Lake, bordering the land of their longtime enemies the White Legs.
They are known for raiding frontier towns for supplies, kidnapping people, their tireless pursuit of enemies and for their occasional use of motorcycles. They are rightly feared for their ability to cover large areas of land with very few men using said motorcycles. They have recently spread out over a larger area, notably the I-80, due to the collapse of the Nevada Desert Rangers and the NCR's inability to patrol or keep tabs on the territory.
History
After the bombs desolated the country, the 80s began as a group of people that banded together out of necessity and trekked through the I-80, believing that the highway had to lead somewhere safe. The early origins of the 80s are muddled by word of mouth and mostly forgotten, but they fully coalesced into a raider faction when others learned to fear them.
The first peak of the 80s’ was reached when they took Sacramento for their own. For the first time, many 80s began to settle down and build a raiding community, often attacking smaller settlements in the area. These transgressions eventually led to the New California Republic expanding and securing its borders by taking Sacramento back, forcing the 80s out of the city.
The 80s then tore through Nevada, following the I-80 and launching massive raids on almost every community they came across for supplies and equipment, including NCR cities such as New Reno or Vault City. This led to even greater notoriety and, despite having been mauled by the NCR, drove fear into the heart of the Republic as they made their way to Utah.
Currently, the 80s have mostly settled in Wendover, expanding it into a town. Most of their conflicts lie with the neighboring White Legs, and they await the opportunity to strike back at the NCR and reclaim Sacramento.
Culture
The 80s primary philosophies are that other 80s come before all else, that the enemy of their enemy is their friend, and that settling down is the opposite of freedom. They value a wild and free lifestyle, cheap thrills, mechanical and driving prowess, and the road. While some communities support them along the roads, they are their own priority above all, and many relations with other groups are sustained through physical threat.
While all 80s can be defined by a few common traits, most of them are decentralized and spread across various chapters. Each has their own rules, hierarchies and banners. Some chapters are nomadic, while others settle in towns they have conquered, and others live in self-made settlements by the road.
Identification between each chapter varies from chapter to chapter, with the most common traits being tattoos, body art, patches on armour and jackets, and so on. While in-fighting between chapters is common, the 80s are generally extremely close-knit compared to other raider factions. In most chapters, higher-ranking members wear red or blue I-80 road signs, while regular members wear the more common green signs, and initiates and hangarounds have no signs.
While most 80s are born into their respective chapters, the 80s will occasionally take on new initiates that are young or have potential when it comes to driving and repair skills. An initiate, or hangaround, mostly runs errands for fully-fledged 80s until the others have decided they are eligible for an initiation ritual. Most potential initiates have to go through a ritual to prove their worth, such as salvaging a motorcycle and making it their own.
Economy
When the 80s started out, they were disorganized and originally had to rely on raiding to get by. During their early years, raiding was quite profitable in the wasteland, and this time period would later be called the golden age of raiding. As time went on, however, theft and slavery became unsustainable as societies grew, and many chapters of the 80s were forced to turn to other means of survival.
Using their vehicles to travel greater distances faster than any other society could manage, many chapters of the 80s turned to drug trade, gun running, package delivery, caravan running and trading. Many chapters have become their own communities, and some have settled in certain locations to farm. There are still active raiding chapters, but in the present they are few and far between.
Despite no longer solely relying on raiding, some chapters still intimidate weaker communities into giving tribute to them, having no issue doing so with their vehicles. They also charge a travel tax on all outsiders that would cross their roads.
Military and Technology
The 80s are well-known for their expertise in and quantity of vehicles ranging from the common motorcycle to the large semi-truck. The 80s scavenge, repair and even build their own vehicles, and almost every member at least has their own motorcycle, as a common initiation rite requires new members to salvage their own bike. They also find and use old schematics to improve upon their designs, or create their own from scratch.
Most 80s make their own equipment when they cannot scavenge, from tires and tools to homemade fuel. Many bikes have been made to run on ethanol and other biofuels, while others run on energy cells, fusion cells, or any energy source that’s available.
Using these vehicles, the 80s utilize speed to break through enemy walls in battle, and often overwhelm their opponents before they can truly attack. They rely on hit-and-run tactics, and as a result have great offense and poor defense. For example, one common attack involves holding out a machete while driving by the enemy; destructive, but leaves the rider open for many attacks.
The most commonly used weapons are anything close and decimating. Many 80s carry shotguns, automatic guns and throwable explosives that are relatively easy to use while riding.
Politics and Diplomatic Relations
The cultural tenet of the 80s coming before anyone else carries into their politics. Little of the outside world affects their internal politics or laws (or lack thereof). They are somewhat hypocritical in that they believe in freedom for themselves and no one else. The 80s have no one leader, and overall are decentralized as a faction.
Each chapter has their own subset of laws, or none at all. While most 80s are close-knit, there is currently infighting between chapters as they debate on whether to settle down or continue raiding. Some believe that settling down goes against what the 80s stand for and would be abandoning their origins, while others believe they won’t stand a chance against other factions if they continue to raid.
The 80s are relatively cold toward other factions, with few allies and many enemies. They are generally neutral toward other raiding factions, such as the Jackals or the Vipers, but would put aside their differences for the sake of attacking the greater enemy, such as with the Great Khans or the Powder Gangers. No matter what, however, they will make it clear that they are their own priority.
The New California Republic is one of the 80s greatest and most powerful enemies. From the very beginning, the 80s and the NCR have fought each other as the 80s raided civilians and the NCR tried to stomp them out along with other raider factions. This culminated in the NCR taking Sacramento and forcing the 80s to leave for Utah, marking the NCR as the 80s’ worst enemy. Any 80s would not hesitate at any opportunity to get back at the NCR, no matter how petty or who they would have to ally with.
After the 80s were forced to travel to Utah, their territory began to border the White Legs’, and they frequently intruded on their land. This has led to many skirmishes between the two factions as they compete for their own territory.
While Caesar’s Legion does not have much presence in the West, many 80s have heard of this new threat against the NCR, and most who have are eager for any potential ally to get back at the NCR for Sacramento. The 80s know little of the Legion or what would happen to them if the Legion was successful, but are willing to do anything if it meant victory.
References
https://fallout-archive.fandom.com/wiki/Simple_organizations#80s
J.E. Sawyer’s Fallout Roleplaying Game
Hearts of Iron 4: Old World Blues
And all the other people that helped contribute to this document
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OoooOOooooOooo guess what!!! This scene well and truly won't leave me alone so I have spent another night writing up my Thoughts and Ideas into something somewhat comprehensible!!!! I blame @jackdaw-kraai @darthstitch @bookwyrmie completely, congratulations y'all!!!!! You Did This!!!!!! 🤣🤣
In the middle of a crowded ballroom, Vader and the child currently held in his arms stared at each other. Luke had handed her to him before he fully understood that what he was receiving was in fact both alive and a small child, and not something inanimate and, say, less fragile. While he tried to recall what to do with an infant, she did something that, in hindsight, he should have expected.
She reached up and hooked her tiny fingers into the slots of his respirator.
"I would advise against that, child," he said.
"Aba," she babbled at him, her other hand joining the first.
"This is not a plaything," he gently added. A pop-up on his HUD alerted him to a blockage and the estimated time he could stay conscious with the decreased rate of oxygen. "It is a vital piece of medical equipment. I must ask you to treat it as such."
He carefully guided her hands away and continued to fend off her attempts to touch either his mask or the unit on his chest. Eventually she settled for his hand, gripping his thumb and pinky finger and manipulating them as much as she could.
"Thank you for your compromise," Vader said.
The child strung together a set of nonsensical syllables that nonetheless had Vader nodding.
He stood there for a while, half-listening to Luke's conversation and letting the child play with his hand until she got bored. His attention was recaptured when she began making small distressed sounds, ones that dredged up a spark of foreboding within him.
"What is it?" he asked her. "Are you hungry, perhaps?"
He looked at the selection of food -- none of it designed for a child. Moreover, he had no idea what kind of preferences or allergies this one may or may not have.
She whined more insistently and stuck her fingers into her mouth.
Vader turned to Luke, still chatting animatedly with his fellows. He placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
"I will return," he said.
"Sure," Luke agreed, patting Vader's hand, and launched right back into his conversation. Vader looked to the guards stationed at the perimeter of the ballroom and only then did he release Luke's shoulder.
He walked a little ways over to the buffet tables and took a knife and fork from the offered cutlery.
"Look, child," he murmured, tilting the utensils this way and that so the glinting of the light caught her attention. Her eyes latched onto the shiny metal, reaching for them with the hand not currently occupied. Her distressed coos tapered off slightly, but began to rise again when Vader wouldn't let her grab them.
"Hm, not so interesting for you, I think," he mused. "But you may hurt yourself if I allow you to hold them."
She looked at him crossly, wisps of her brows furrowed in caricature of what she'd observed of others. She took her hand out of her mouth to babble insistently and slap the arm holding her, smearing saliva across the dark leather.
"Very well," Vader sighed. "Perhaps there is a mutually agreeable solution."
A fine ribbon of the Force wound around them, pulled deftly from the fabric of reality by an old weaver's hand -- the utensils rose on invisible strings, twirling gently around each other like a mobile. It had a similar effect, as well; the child returned her attention to them, now silent but for the small grunts she made as, again, she tried to reach out.
"I agree," he nodded. "A tactile distraction would be best. But these have far too many points for you to prick yourself on, child."
He twitched his fingers and the utensils collided midair, bending around and around each other until there was a packed ball of metal. One could hardly tell where fork ended and knife began. The metal squealed quietly as it was bent into shape, and the more pressure Vader Forced upon it the more it began to glow a red heat. The child watched as the color changed to a burning orange and eventually a bright, molten white.
Vader held the condensed ball of silver at arm's length, thankful now for the wide berth people tended to give him at these functions.
"I believe you would quickly become dissatisfied a simple ball. Would you not agree?" Vader asked. The child, now that it was well and truly out of her grasp, was already looking around with a lazy, hooded eye. "Hm. Something more complex, then."
He turned back to the metal and began twisting. Some sections pulled apart, some connected together, until the latticework of a great dodecahedron rested above his hand, spinning on all axes so he could ensure the angles were correct from every direction. A shape that would occupy her for some time, hopefully. He carefully rounded each vertex and smoothed every edge, and double-checked it with precision.
Then, once he was satisfied, he began to wick away the heat held within the metal. Slowly, the silver set and hardened. He had to be careful, so the lattice did not cool in sections and split apart.
The child began whining again. Vader idly tucked her more securely against his chest, mindful of his life support -- but something inside him he could not name seemed to both stir and settle once she laid her head on his shoulder.
"Almost finished," he consoled her. "I have to make sure it is not too hot for you."
Eventually, Vader released his grasp of the Force and the dodecahedron fell into his hand, cooled completely to ambient temperature. He turned it over once more, a last check for burs or points that he might have missed.
"Here you are, child. Will this hold your attention?"
She took it from him and immediately placed a rung into her mouth. If she minded the taste, she did not show it.
"I am glad to see it," Vader nodded. "This is the framework of a great dodecahedron, which is a regular polyhedron. Many are taught that there are only five regular polyhedra, but there are actually forty-eight in three-dimensional Euclidean space."
She looked up at him with attentive eyes and removed the shape to talk to him, waving the latticework about.
"Exactly. Perfectly foolish to exclude all but the platonic solids."
She resumed her chewing. Vader began explaining the finer points of three-dimensional geometry, and her attentiveness as a pupil only wavered once he started on hexagonal tiling. (Which was more than fair, in Vader's opinion -- the tilings were the least interesting of the lot.) He continued as her eyes drooped and she settled in his arms, turning her new toy in her hands as she listened.
Suddenly, the great dodecahedron fell to the floor, clinking softly to a stop a few paces away. Vader looked down and stilled in surprise; the child was laid fully on his chest and shoulder, eyes closed and breathing deeply in relaxed and restful slumber. She seemed unconcerned by the hard metal of his mantle, but he dared not shift and risk waking her.
He looked for the dodecahedron and found instead Luke, already rising with it in his grip and making his way over.
"This is cool," the boy said, twirling it in his hands. "Where'd you get it?"
"I crafted it from cutlery," Vader replied, wincing at the volume of his vocoder.
"Woah, neat!" Luke took a closer look at it. "I can't see any seam lines."
"No," Vader confirmed. By the grin Luke flashes at him, his tone had a prideful air to it. The vocoder interpreted his chuckle as a small burst of static.
Luke's smile turned sweet, looking to the child in his arms.
"How is she?" he asked, still fiddling with the toy. "Sorry I handed her off so abruptly. I got caught up."
"It was no trouble, little one," Vader dismissed his apology. "...She fell asleep."
"Ohhh," Luke cooed, hand to his cheek. "That's so precious. I wish I brought my datapad."
"And I am rather glad you did not," Vader lightly countered.
Luke rolled his eyes. "Aw, come on. If I took a picture I wouldn't share it with anybody."
Vader was about to reply when--
POP!
At the other end of the table, a burst of applause followed as someone uncorked a bottle of carbonated wine. The child flinched awake in Vader's arms, blinked twice at the loud and bright surroundings, and heaved in a breath.
"Oh no," said Luke, right before she began to wail.
Vader hesitantly pat her back -- his mantle was too hard to bounce her on unless he wanted to give her a concussion. He looked to Luke, whose arms were already extended.
"Can I...?" Luke asked, and Vader readily handed her over. Luke started swaying in place, rubbing her back in gentle circles. "You were doing great, it's just--"
"My armor is not designed for comfort," Vader agreed. "I believe you are much better equipped for her, little one."
Luke's eyes stayed on him for a beat longer than he expected.
"Yeah, I guess not," he eventually agreed. He turned to the child still crying on his shoulder. "But wow, you've got a set of pipes on you, huh? Hey, what's this? You remember this? Did Lord Vader make it for you?"
Luke managed to catch the child's attention once more, her cries diminishing to hiccuping sobs once she had hold of the latticework again. After a couple of minutes it was back in her mouth, and Vader went to retrieve a napkin from the table so Luke could wipe her face.
While at the table, he let his irritation bleed into the space around him and the Dark responded, prickling eagerly up his neck. The gathered crowd immediately quieted and scampered off to another, less disruptive location.
"She really likes it," Luke said when he returned.
"Indeed. She is an exemplary student."
"Is that what you were talking about over here?" he asked, smiling. "Weird math stuff?"
Vader crossed his arms. "It is a fairly simple geometrical concept. She grasped upon the context immediately."
"Aw," Luke crooned. "That's the cutest thing I've ever heard. You're gonna be a scientist one day, huh, sweetling?"
He poked lightly at her belly, just enough to make her laugh -- and drop the dodecahedron. Vader buoyed it with a quick reaction of the Force, guiding it once more into her hands.
She stared at it with wide eyes, then brought it overhead and threw it.
"Oh yeah," Luke said as Vader retrieved it once again. "A scientist for sure."
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nooneactuallyasked · 3 years
Text
Diner Gal - Reggie x Reader Part 12
Requested: Nope
Word count: 2,661
Warnings: Not that I know of.
Summary: Julie and the Phantoms ( + Flynn ) go to a musical diner/café/restaurant for inspiration and hopefully a future gig but they end up meeting a very special waitress.
Note: So writer's block on the last chapter/part of your story sucks a whole bunch but we finally did it! I finally finished this – we don’t need to talk about how many months it’s been, sh! THIS IS THE FINAL PART!!!
A few songs in this chapter – I’d recommend listening to them as you read:
Jump in the Line/ Dead Mom Reprise – Beetlejuice the Musical
Obvious – Dear Evan Hansen
ENJOY!
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---
Part 1 here   Part 2 here   Part 3 here   Part 4 here   Part 5 here   
Part 6 here   Part 6.5 here   Part 7 here   Part 8 here   Part 9 here   
Part 10 here   Part 11 here
---
After a few hours of frantically drawing and writing up the final setlist, plans, room arrangements and digging through Cal’s office to find the list of reserved tables, Y/N was finally ready to call her job done. And now to jump right back into ghostly matters, which started with finding Julie and Willie and hoping they had some sort of plan figured out.
“Hey hey, look who’s finally back from the other side!” Flynn’s exclamation was met with winces from the boys and a wry smile from Y/N, “It sure was an adventure, Cal really should organise that office. How’s decorating going?” Flynn sighed in response, “It would be a lot better if some people actually helped out instead of talking to thin air.” She sent a mock glare to Julie who sent an eye roll straight back, “Kinda dealing with bigger and more important things right now, but sure I’ll blow up a balloon right after.”
“So, how has the whole possession thing been going? Any solid way to get Cal back?” Y/N asked, anxiety crawling up the sides of her stomach. Willie looked around at the group, all of whom were fidgeting and avoiding his gaze, sighing he turned back to her, “There is a way, but there’s no guarantee it will work.” Y/N nodded, gesturing for him to continue, “You have to establish a connection first then everything after that is up to Cal and his willpower. This situation is a little different to the one these guys got themselves into, and I’ve also never seen this before so this is the best I can come up with.”
She scrunched up her brow, how on earth did you make a connection with a possessed person? And so she asked exactly that, “Do something that means something to both of you; you’re in the music business, are there any songs that you two would sing together? Something like that. Apart from making the connection, there’s not much else you can do. I’m sorry.” Willie responded, Alex rubbed his arm comfortingly, “This isn’t your fault, it’s no one's fault but Calebs.” Y/N nodded in agreement, “Exactly, you’ve been so incredibly helpful, you all have,” She looked around the group, yes that includes Flynn, and smiled, “Thanks a bunch, you guys.” Her smile quickly transformed into a smug grin, “Luckily, I know exactly which song to use.”
---
A few hours passed and Le Paradis du Chanteur was ready to go, all of the evening’s acts were either out front or preparing in the back. She had seen Julie and the guys a few times in her rushed panic to get a song ready and change the setlist last minute, everything was completely ready and fine, of course, but it didn’t stop Y/N from worrying.
All that was left was to let the guests in, find Cal and make sure the first act was ready (not in that order). She huffed as she hunted down the first act, she supposed they weren’t actually that bad – in fact she could tolerate their outfits somewhat and their music was good. The members were a little annoying but good at what they did so who was she to judge.
Their clothing was easy to spot – they do look like a pack of highlighters (as their nickname would suggest) so it took Y/N no longer than 3 minutes to find them and less than 5 to check in and see that they were practically ready to go on the spot.
Now to find Cal, a challenge she was ready to face head-on, probably. It took Y/N quite a bit longer to find him but, after asking around and getting her co-worker to point her in the right direction, she found him sitting in the kitchen, blank as ever. Y/N sighed and pulled him into the main area, hoping he would at least interact with the guests if they spoke to him.
She hoped that this evening wouldn’t turn into a disaster but who knew at this point – she walked to the entrance and put on her best smile, and went to let everyone in.
 ---
 A couple of acts had already gone and she was up next on the newly improved setlist – here goes the performance of a lifetime.
Y/N breathed out, stepping towards the mic, “Hello, everyone! I hope you’re enjoying your evening so far, we have only a few acts left to go! Before we continue, I’d just like to sing a little something in honour of our amazing manager, Cal!” A series of applause and a few whistles followed her words, Y/N relaxed, if anything went wrong at least she could say she tried. “As I’m sure some of our regulars know, Cal has always been one to enjoy a good musical, you’d hope so with this line of work.” Another ripple of laughter and a few cheers, a grin spread across her face. “When I first joined this diner as a performer, I auditioned with the song I’m about to sing for you now, I like to think of it as our song. Not to mention the fact that for at least 2 weeks after I got the job I couldn’t stop singing it, I think every one of the staff here tonight, and those who aren’t, know the song word for word now, sorry about that. So, with no further ado, I give you my audition song.” Taking the mic out of its stand, Y/N stepped back, spotting Cal sitting in the back corner, face empty of anything, as the backing music started up.
 Shake, shake, shake, Senora
Shake your body line
Shake, shake, shake, Senora
Shake it all the time
 Y/N hopped off of the stage and skipped around tables, whenever she passed a staff member she dance with them for a second, before they would both move on, quickly forming a line.
 Work, work, work, Senora
Work your body line
Work, work, work, Senora
Work it all the time
 The line quickly made its way back to the stage, everyone now singing to each other and dancing together. Y/N closed her eyes and quickly prayed that this was working. She skipped around the line, pointing at different staff members to sing the solo lines.
 My girl's name is Senora
I tell you, friends, I adore her
And when she dances, oh brother
She’s a hurricane in all kinds of weather
 She laughed as she went back to her place in the line, smiling at her co-workers beside her.
 Jump in the line, rock your body in time
(Okay, I believe you)
Jump in the line, rock your body in time
(Okay, I believe you)
 The line jumped slightly to the left every time they sang that line and then danced with the people around them, some workers went to tables and started dancing and singing with the talent scouts or any families or regulars that had booked a place that evening.
 Shake, shake, shake, Senora
(Ahh)
Work, work, work, Senora
(Ahh- Woo!)
 Y/N grabbed Sam’s hand and led them to the middle of the floor as she sang, turning to face them, trying to contain her giggles, as they did a mock opera performance.
 Cal, I know you’re listenin'
Doesn’t this just blow your mind?
I was on a mission
This is what I left behind
 She made her way over to Cal, hoping to see something behind his eyes. Y/N pulled him up by his hand and danced him over to the line of performers at the front.
 I'll miss you every day
Seek a little strange and unusual
And you will find
 The line, still acting as her incredibly enthusiastic backing vocals, started spreading out, a few stayed on the stage while others jumped off to dance and sing with the guests. Sam came over to Y/N and Cal and brought into a weird little circle dance as Noelle and Casey cackled from a nearby table.
 Life beyond all comprehension
A mess in multiple dimensions
A little unconventional, I know
 Y/N’s eyes widened in worry as Cal groaned in pain in front of her. She waved Casey over who quickly grabbed him and sat him down on a nearby, empty chair.
 But, Cal, I am home
I'm home
I'm home
 As soon as she had finished singing, Y/N rushed over to Cal. “You okay?” He grunted in return, “Been better, but then again I could probably be a lot worse.” Her breath hitched as he squeezed his eyes tight and groaned again. His breathing quickened slightly before he let out a big breath and a purple light appeared on his neck. Y/N pulled his collar down to get a better look at it but as quickly as it came it faded away again. “You doing good, Callerina?” He rolled his eyes, “I will be when you stop with those nicknames…and when Sam stops dancing like that.”
She laughed, tears pricking at her eyes, as Cal snorted at Sam’s ridiculous dancing, they were completely embarrassing Noelle as they forced her to waltz around the room. “I thought they said they were a professional dancer when I hired them. Oh well.” He turned to face Y/N, the twinkle back in his eyes, “I thought my return would be more dramatic, I’ll be honest. But this is alright too.” Y/N rubbed at her eyes as she scoffed at him, “Of course, only you would say this wasn’t dramatic enough.” Cal shrugged, “Well when you reach old age, like me, you’ll learn that even bending down takes a lot of effort, might as well make it worth the trouble.” Y/N rolled her eyes, “Cal, you’re 31. You’re not that old.” He sniffed in response, “I watched you grow into the ghostbuster that you’ve become, didn’t I? I think that’s old enough.” She scoffed, though a fond smile played on the edges of her lips, “Well, since you ruined our nice moment I might as well get back to orders and making sure all of our acts are okay.” Cal’s eyes widened at that, “I forgot, I’m so sorry you had to do that all alone, I’ll let you steal anything you want from the diner kitchen after this as a sorry and thank you gift.” She grinned, “As if I wasn’t gonna do that already.”
Y/N walked away, giggling to herself as she heard Cal squawk in indignation behind her. This was totally worth it, she had her family back and a new family as well.
 ---
 It was now the end of the night, lots of people were ordering the last things to eat or drink or finishing up what they already had before they left. All performers were out on the floor, taking orders, entertaining young children or talking to talent scouts if they had the time. It was the noisiest it had been all evening, even with all the bands and music, performance and dancing that had occurred.
Julie awkwardly stood on stage, fiddling with the mic stand. “Excuse me? Hi. Um, so I know this is kinda weird and short notice but one of our band members has a message for a special someone so we hope you enjoy.” She steps back from the mic and moves over to the keyboard towards the front corner of the performance area, Reggie practically vibrated behind the mic whilst the other two musketeers glared at him to chill out before he caused the mic to screech.
The audience had quietened down and now sat in expectant silence, Y/N continued serving, though the short notice act did seem to capture most of her attention (albeit confused stares but her attention nonetheless). Reggie took a few deep breaths, readying himself to poof and basically confess his newfound feelings to a living girl who captured his undead heart, wanting what you can’t have really had been taken to that level, huh.
Julie’s fingers danced across the keyboard as Reggie poofed in and strummed along on the acoustic guitar Julie had pried from Luke’s cold, dead hands, he had wanted to keep the song simple, strip it down to its purest form, mirroring his feelings. That and the fact that he had done this last minute and dragged everyone around him into it, so showing off and using flashy techniques was something they just didn’t have the time to add in.
 When we know something is true
Beyond question or doubt
There's no particular point
In pointing it out
 Reggie strums his guitar, looking solely at either the guitar or the mic, trying to gather up his courage. He wrote this song for Y/N, why couldn’t he just look at her?
 Blue is the colour of sky
'Cause mothers all worry
And old people die
A phone rings, a bee stings
It's something you don't need to hear
It's just clear
 He looked back at Julie, finding her smiling at him encouragingly. He smiled back at her in return. He could do this!
 Why go stating the obvious?
It's so painfully obvious
How could you miss
Something that's this plain to see?
When it's glaring and staring
Right at you
So obviously
 He looked up to meet Y/N’s eyes, she had stopped moving around after handing out her last order, instead, she stood staring at him, completely awestruck. He almost chuckled, how could she stare at him like he hung the stars when she was brighter than the sun?
 When you get bored you draw stars
On the cuffs of your jeans
You still fill out the quizzes you find
In those teen magazines
And you dance like nobody's there
Awkward and perfect
You don't even care
Something courageous, amazing, contagious
And kind
All combined
 Y/N huffed out breathy laughs as she stared at him, the stupid, leather-covered, ghost boy. She knew she hadn’t fallen in love – she hadn’t fallen anywhere, she had walked into her feelings, completely aware and content. He made it easy, Y/N hoped she made it easy too.
 Why go stating the obvious?
It's so painfully obvious
How could you miss
Something that's this plain to see?
When it's glaring and staring
Right at you
So obviously
 Sam grabbed her by the hand and pulled her towards the stage until she was right in front of it – right in front of him, “Have fun with your Romeo, don’t forget about us when you’re off on dates.” They cackled as they ran away, narrowly avoiding Y/N’s punches.
 Sometimes the words
We tend to withhold
But they're exactly the words
Someone needs to be told
But oh, thinking they know
We never say "I love you
I love you
I love you
I love you"
 Y/N smiled up at him as he beckoned her onto the stage. She never thought when she took up this part of the job that she’d end up meeting a bunch of ghosts and their human companion + friend, have her manager be possessed and garner feelings for the golden retriever incarnate.
 'Cause why go
Stating the obvious
It's so painfully obvious
How could you miss
Something that's this plain to see?
When it's glaring, and staring right at you
So obviously
 As the song quieted down, Julie shared looks with Alex and Luke pretended like he wasn’t tearing up at the sight of the pair on stage. Sam and Noelle smiled at each other and Casey rolled her eyes, she truly was surrounded by idiots that she had somehow adopted, not that she regretted it necessarily but she would never admit it.
“Hey, Y/N,” Reggie stepped away from the mic, “I’m not in love with you or anything, but I think I could be if you’d be okay with that?” The girl in question chuckled, “I think I could love you too, eventually. But how about we get to know each other for longer than a week first, sound good?”
“Sounds perfect, Diner Gal.”
---
Taglist:
@dotishyperfixating​   @daddydraco0   @morganayenneferburnham​
@dxestars   @dcnerd98   @ultraworthlessbitch
@revolutionary-werewolf-ghosts   @underc0vercryptid
@underc0vercryptid-reads   @miisacore​
@cas-loves-pizza   @slytherhoes​
17 notes · View notes
jamaiskookie · 4 years
Text
How To Ask Your Crush Out: A Guide For Dummies [knj x reader]
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⚖ warnings: intense amount of crack and very very trashy writing 
⚖ word count: 3.3k (very smol boi today, just wanted to get this little drabble out)
⚖ genre: crackity fluff; my specialty :-)
⚖ A/N: been preparing for halloween so forgive me for the short fic, i’ve been pUMPING out content for you guys recently. 
masterlist asks 
⚖ synopsis: Prof. Kim Namjoon is pleased and delighted to present his new class: How To Ask Your Crush Out For Dummies; A comprehensive, follow-along six step guide for the introverted and shy. 
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A triumphant Kim Namjoon jumps into frame in front of the huge chalkboard in a huge lecture hall, holding a piece of white chalk in one hand and a pointer in the other, with a slightly maniacal grin stretched on his face. His black thick rimmed glasses are crooked and skewed, sitting on the bridge of his nose, completely lopsided. He’s been awake for- oh he doesn’t keep count. Possibly 28 hours by now. 
“Good afternoon, everyone!”  (It’s 6 in the morning, and nobody is in the audience.) He stretches out the long, metal chalkboard pointer, who he has named Bertha, and smacks it against the chalkboard. It echoes through the empty hall. He secretly loves the sound the long pointer makes. It’s so satisfying, and the fact that he got it on Amazon Prime for only like 2 dollars makes the sound so much better. 
“Welcome to today’s class!” He’s still talking to an empty room. It might be the desperation in him, or just his good ole’ friend sleep deprivation fueling his somewhat insane behaviour. “Today I am completely focused on solving the greatest mystery I have ever encountered in my lifetime. Arguably, this is the most scrutinised cold case ever seen in the world. Today we’ll be tackling: How To Ask Your Crush Out. Would anybody like to start off by introducing themselves, their crush, and how long you’ve been infatuated? Hm?” Crickets. 
“Ah, there’s nobody here!” Namjoon exclaims cheerfully, as if he only just realised. He swings back, turning to the chalkboard and continues teaching. “My name is Kim Namjoon, or Professor Kim to you,” Again, completely empty room. “And I have had a crush on Y/N L/N for almost two years now.” His smile falters when he realises it really has been two whole years. Clearing his throat, he smacks an A3 sized picture of a pretty girl onto the chalkboard. 
You are wearing a long cardigan sweater in the photo, candidly reading with headphones wrapped around your neck. Namjoon has written a barely visible small ‘Y/N, October 4th’ on the top corner of the picture. He’s always had a bit of a photography hobby, but his pictures always seem to turn out better when you are the subject. 
It’s a bit odd how you look so much better when you don’t know he’s taking a photo. All the selfies and old pictures from university he has of you are just as beautiful, but there’s something ethereal about you in your natural state. Sitting down and reading a book in a library. That photo is miles better than any of the stupidly extensive photo-ops you plan out for your Instagram pictures. He stares at the photo before turning back to the (imaginary) class. 
“Let me introduce the- as the kids say- lomél. I believe this is an abbreviation for Love Of My Life. L-O-M-L, if anybody wants to write the spelling down.” He swerves Bertha around to point at your picture. “This,” He says, seriously. “Is Y/N L/N, my… my friend since freshman year of university. I have never confessed my feelings to her, despite trying many, many times. Today, we’re going to trouble-shoot and hopefully solve this problem, while examining a shy person’s abilities to socialise and freely have a love life.”  Namjoon ignores the small voice in his head that mentions how a successful Philosophy professor who speaks in front of hundreds of students every day such as himself should be able to say ‘I like you’ to the girl he’s had a painfully obvious crush on for the past two years. 
“Step ONE:” Namjoon yells, writing a big ‘1’ on the chalkboard. “Do not start off a confession by mentioning a Confucius quote if your crush is not in the philosophy or ethics community! They will not understand no matter how obvious it is!” On the chalkboard, he draws an old man with droopy eyebrows and huge beard- Confucius. Then he draws a huge circle around it and crosses it out with a line using so much force he almost breaks the piece of chalk in his hand. 
“In fact, just don’t mention anything about philosophers! And don’t try to confess to them through a math problem, they will not understand!” Namjoon winces. He learned that one the hard way. (He asked you to isolate ‘1’ in ⅓ < 3, which is a seventh-grade level inequality. You had pushed him away and yelled at him for making you do math. The answer to the inequality equation would have been 1 < 3u.) ((1 < 3u = I <3 you. He thought it was pretty obvious.)) 
He draws a subtraction and addition sign and draws another circle, crossing through it. 
“Step TWO!” Namjoon shouts, cringing at the horrible scratchy noise the chalk makes against the board. “If you do get the chance to confess to them and manage to get through without substantially embarrassing yourself, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT laugh and agree if they ask if you are joking! They will! Laugh along with you! While you try! To hide your pain!” 
“I cannot emphasise this enough!” Namjoon is basically screaming by now. He hopes nobody from campus comes in to complain. The picture of you on the board with the symbols that he’s drawn along with the big ‘FLIRTING AND DATING 101’ written on the top of the board could lead to some severe misunderstandings. “Do not laugh if that ever happens again- I mean, if it ever happens to you! It’s more likely than you would think if you are in love with a dumbass! It will happen! Misinterpretations and concerns will happen! Learn from them!” Namjoon writes a huge ‘laughing to hide the pain = bad ❌’ onto the board. 
“Does anybody have any questions?” More crickets. 
“Okay then, moving on!” Namjoon writes a ‘3’ below the notes for step 2. “Step THREE: Confessing via call, facetime, or handwritten letter would be optimal for the average introvert. I suggest a handwritten letter would be best for this kind of confession. Still not ideal, but it gets the job done. Can someone tell me why a handwritten letter would be better than a call, facetime, or anything on the internet?” Without waiting for his non-existent introvert class to respond, he snaps his fingers, a satisfied look on his face. “That’s right! Facetiming or hearing your crush’s voice would be too nerve wracking and inevitably, you’ll mess up and say something like ‘Did you know that Barbie’s real name is Barbara Millicent Roberts’ instead of ‘I’ve liked you for two years’...  I do not speak from experience.” 
Awkwardly, he clears his throat again, averting his eyes from literally nobody. “Texting would not be good! Texting is considered insensitive and is not a good way to confess your feelings. If the idea of a face to face confession is too intimidating or not ideal in your introverted situation, the aforementioned options would be your best choices. I strongly advise you to stick to those three. In order of a likelihood for a successful confession, it goes: Letter, facetime, then call.” He writes ‘letter > facetime > call > speaking in real life (?)’ on the board.
“hoWEVER,” He says, pointing at the large ‘3’ he wrote with Bertha. “If you do end up choosing to write a handwritten letter- write this down, this is an important note- do NOT forget to sign your name! Your crush will end up throwing it away thinking it’s a random admirer or a prank. MAKE SURE TO WRITE THIS DOWN!” On the board, he writes down ‘My name → Kim Namjoon.’ He nods thoughtfully. “Yes,” He says. “It’s important to write your name.” He mutters it over and over, staring glazed at the words written on the board. 
Close to bursting into tears, he grabs a hold of his hair and cradles his head in his hands. “Why didn’t you write your fucking name, Namjoon?” He frustratingly mutters to himself. Sighing, he puts his hands on his waist, marvelling at what he’d written so far. The peaceful silence doesn’t last for very long. 
“STEP NUMBER FOUR!” It’s not like him to be so loud. It’s probably a good, balanced combination of his lack of sleep and being alone with his inner thoughts. He’s pretty sure he has an alternate personality who thinks he’s Freud. Freud occasionally throws in some pretty deep psychoanalysis prompts for him to consider when he can’t sleep. 
“If… And only if you build up the courage to ask her out in person-! Well, firstly, congratulations, we’re all very proud of you. Secondly, do it in public! You might be thinking, Professor Kim, why on earth would I want to do it in public? Getting rejected in public is so much more horrible!? Well, BELIEVE ME, UNBELIEVERS- Getting rejected in public is sO much better than getting rejected in private! Due to our tendency to not draw attention to ourselves and the way we like to shrink in public, it’s much more likely that we won’t break down in tears if we get rejected in public! Well, once you get back home, you might start breaking down, so maybe this is just a temporary solution, but it’s still better than sobbing in front of your crush when you devastatingly get rejected!” 
Knitting his brows together, Namjoon corrects himself. “Not when you get devastatingly rejected, sorry. If. If. Yes, if. If you get devastatingly rejected. Come to think of it, in a purely logical way, you have a 50/50 chance of succeeding in your confession. ‘I like you, do you like me?’ That’s a yes or no question, isn’t it? A confession is exactly the same as flipping a coin! You have a 50% chance of getting heads, 50% chance of getting tails. Either way, you get on with your life despite getting heads or tails. So… the odds are kinda in your favour!” 
“Except when you flip a coin, you wouldn’t get nervous to the point where you accidentally push the coin into a mud filled pond where the coin’s favourite shirt got ruined so then the coin proceeded to ignore you for the next two weeks, making it the most miserable two weeks of your entire life… But that probably won’t happen again.” Namjoon mutters underneath his breath.  “Coins don’t wear shirts anyways.” Somehow, that seemed to comfort him. He writes down ‘coins can’t wear shirts’ on the chalkboard. 
“Step number FIVE!” Namjoon shakes his head, taking a sip of the espresso that’s been sitting on his desk for hours. “What was step number five agai- oh right. Step number five: look your best!” Namjoon catches sight of his reflection and winces. “Okay, maybe I don’t have a great example right now.” He reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair, almost puking when he feels the amount of grease and gunk buried in his scalp. He should probably shower. And get some sleep. His eye bags do not look very attractive right now. Maybe he should get a haircut too, it’s kinda getting wild up there. In his own defence, he’s been standing in this exact pair of sweatpants and glasses for the past couple hours, so he smells a tiny bit. Don’t girls like it when guys wear grey sweatpants? Frowning, Namjoon makes a mental note to do some research later on. 
“Shower, change, put in contacts, cologne, flowers…” Namjoon starts writing a to-do list onto his small notebook. “Would she like flowers, actually? Is it misogynistic of a guy to bring flowers or is it just a cute, nice gesture? Am I overthinking this?” His phone vibrates in the middle of his feminism breakdown, and he pats his back pockets before realising his phone was across the table. He grunts as he leans over to pick it up, and thoughtlessly, he accepts the call and brings it up to his ear. “Hello?”
“Where are you?” Your voice is both a comfort and a shock to hear so early in the morning. He can already see you sighing aloud and scrunching up your nose cutely, a habit you picked up from him himself. He does it when he’s embarrassed, but you do it when you’re angry. It doesn’t really work because now whenever you get mad he just swoons and gushes over your cute nose and chubby cheeks. 
“aH- Um… What time is it?” Namjoon fumbles around, jumping up. 
“It’s like 7 in the morning? Hello, you promised to come workout with me today? Come open your door, I’ve been ringing your doorbell for forever, but I think it’s broken. I’ll call the repair guy for you later.” Namjoon lets out a nervous laugh, guiltily looking at his shoes even though he knows you can’t even see what he’s doing right now. 
“It’s already seven? Wow, time flies really fast. I’m- ” He yawns, bringing the phone away from his ear for a moment. “- really tired.” A beat passes by. How is it possible that he can hear you get angry at him from here?
“Namjoon.” Another awkward laugh rings through the lecture hall. 
“Ahahha. - Yes?” 
“Are you at work right now?” You ask, voice suddenly turning stone cold. 
“Um, well, that’s a debatable question. See, is it really, honestly my work if I love doing it? Sure, it makes me a living, but of course I don’t consider it to be my workplace, you know? Like, I get to come in and do what I love every single day, educating the next generation. It’s actually a really bad mindset because once you refer to your job as ‘work’ you don’t-”
“Namjoon.”
“Okay yes, I’m at work.” He relents, pushing his glasses up and sighing. 
“Joon, it’s seven! Like, seven in the morning! Have you been in there since you clocked in yesterday morning?” You ask worriedly. 
“Uhh, I think so?” To be honest, he’s been here for two nights already, crashing out on a beanbag and brushing his teeth in the staff bathroom when he needs to. 
“Namjoon!” He mumbles out an apology. “What the hell could you have been doing in there? You don’t even have that many classes this week!” Namjoon lets his eyes trail over to the chalkboard, then back down to his notebook. 
“Uh… it’s kinda complicated?”  
“Okay, okay, I’ll come home now, don’t worry!” He says, even before you can demand he take care of himself. Sometimes, you’re just a teensy bit overbearing. It’s a messed up miracle he managed to fall in love with you in the first place. 
“Be careful, okay? It’s flu season, too, so you really can’t be this reckless! You’re literally going to drive me into an early grave, for fuck’s sakes. You’re always fussing over how overworked I am, so how could you not take care of yourself? That’s so hippo- hypo- ugh, what’s the word?” 
“Hypocritical.” Namjoon says into the phone while packing up his things. 
“Hypocritical, yes. You better be here in ten minutes or less, Kim. Come home, take a shower and then sleep. I’m guessing you have done neither of those things since yesterday.” Namjoon doesn’t have the decency or humility to give you an honest answer, so he just stays silent. His eyes are still fixed on the chalkboard. Where was he at when your phone call interrupted? Ah, yes. Step number six: ‘I love you.’ Step number six was a piece of advice he had gotten from Min Yoongi, a music theory professor who taught just a couple minutes away from Namjoon’s office. He’s been dating Jung Hoseok, another mutual friend of Namjoon’s, for a few years now. 
“What do you mean?” Yoongi just blinked when Namjoon asked him, stared blankly at him, lips threatening to pull up into a smirk. 
“What do you mean, ‘What do you mean’?” Namjoon said, huffing. “How did you confess to Hobi?” 
“Bro,” Yoongi said, now freely laughing at Namjoon. “If you can’t confess to her, just wait until you get around to thinking about proposing. Never been more nervous in my life, swear to god.” Namjoon had never been a violent type. Up until he met Yoongi. 
“Just- tell me how you did it, would you?” Yoongi gave a rare, small smile and beckoned him closer. He leaned in, about to tell Namjoon a big secret. 
“Just say it.” He whispered into Namjoon’s ear. Namjoon rolled his eyes, pulled away and rested his head on the sofa. 
“That’s the most useless thing I’ve ever heard.” 
“No it’s not!” Yoongi also leaned back into his seat. “Just say it. ‘I love you.’ It’s nothing difficult. Just say it!” Namjoon scoffed and left, but Yoongi called something out while he was walking away. “Hey, you’re going to lose her if you don’t do anything.” Namjoon froze, but continued to walk. Yoongi watched, two seconds later, amused as Namjoon came rushing back in, sat himself down on the sofa and demanded Yoongi tell him everything he needed to know. 
Thus, his six steps were born. 
If Min Yoongi, a person who is possibly even more shy and even more introverted than Namjoon, (Which is a big feat) can ‘just say it’, he should be able to do it easily. Namjoon nods to himself, rolling his head back and cracking a neck bone. 
Taking a deep breath, he speaks into the phone. 
“Hey, I have something to tell you.” 
“It can wait,” You say. It’s so like you to ruin a love confession, Namjoon thinks, laughing. “Come home, go sleep for a couple hours, then we can talk. It’s not important, is it?” He stares at the chalkboard, letting out a satisfied exhale. 
“Nope.” He says. “Not that important. I’ll tell you later.” 
“Okay,” He hears you grunt from the other side of the phone, shuffling around. “Hey, I’m gonna hang up first, I’ll wait for you to get here. Where’s your spare key again?” 
“Underneath the compartment in the hanging plant. Yeah- the one above the front door.” He hears the familiar jingle of his keys and your adorable ‘a-ha!’ from the phone, and his smile stretches wider. 
“Ohh, okay, got it. Thanks! You don’t mind if I go in first, right?” 
“Nah.” 
“Okay, bye!” Before he says it back, you hang up, and he’s left with an annoying beeping sound that repeats in his ear. He misses you, Namjoon muses to himself. He hasn’t seen you for much too long. Happily, he skips to the back of the lecture hall. (which he then immediately regrets when he finds out his legs don’t work properly after staying in the exact same position for hours without end.) He doesn’t even mind that you’ll see him in this horrendous state if he gets to see you fuss over him again. Your soft side coming out is like spotting a rare bonsai tree on sale in a run-down store- extremely special and only happens once in a while. 
Okay, that analogy was really bad, he just really wanted to mention his bonsai trees.
He spares one last glance to the filled chalkboard. With good luck, nobody will walk in and see that mess all over the board. He’d probably get fired. 
“I love you.” He says to himself. Maybe Yoongi was right. It does sound pretty easy. Namjoon walks out of the lecture hall, switching off the lights and running off to see you. 
Kim Namjoon’s Six Steps Towards Confessing Your Love: Introvert Edition
Do not refer to anything academic or clever in your confession. 
Do not laugh when they ask if you are joking once you confess. 
Letter > facetime > call
Confess in public. 
Look your best!
Just say it. 
⚖  wanna talk to professor!joon? or add yourself to the taglist?
78 notes · View notes
kerikaaria · 4 years
Text
If I Never Met You: Chapter 21
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(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader
Genre: (PG13) Fluff and some angst
WC: 2.8k
Warnings: Vague description of anxiety and a mild panic attack
Series Masterlist
Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22
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It was time for the MMAs, and I can tell the boys feel really nervous. They hadn’t really stood out among other groups who debuted this year, and while they had a large enough fanbase, there was also a lot of negativity and criticism being aimed towards them – more and more every day it seemed. But they were still nominated for Best New Artist and Rookie of the Year awards at some of the shows. Which was the case for this first one, plus they’ll have a performance to do not long after that award is announced.
I made a deal with Jimin that he had to do his best to eat something before schedules, especially big events like these, and that when I asked him about if he ate he had to be honest with me. Luckily, he seemed to be keeping up with that so far, so I had hope that he’d get through his troubles eventually.
I paid attention to the television screen in the corner of our room whenever I could. It had honestly been my first time seeing one of these shows. I never had much interest in them back home, but I was actually enjoying what parts I could watch of it. I was familiar with most of the songs being performed, having heard them countless times during the boys’ own activities. And there were some really interesting special performances other groups had put together.
When it came around to the time when they were to announce Best New Artist, everyone in our room paused what they were doing to watch the screen closely. I started feeling my heart race. This was an award that every artist only had one chance at getting (per award show at least) so that made me feel more anxious of the result we were waiting for.
The woman on stage opened her envelope and paused only briefly before announcing the winner. As soon as she said “Bangtan Sonyeondan,” I jumped up and down, barely containing a scream from leaving my mouth. We could see how happy and excited they were as they made their way to the stage to accept the award, with Joonie giving a short speech before they descended.
They had to come backstage right after so we could get them ready for the performance, and I could hear them coming down the hallway. They were yelling in excitement and they all practically ran into the room one or two at a time.
“We got the award!” Namjoon exclaimed as soon as he entered.
Many people in the room, myself included, cheered or said words of congratulations as they each piled in.
Tae was the last to bound into the room, and he instantly found his way to me, practically knocking me over when he jumped to embrace me. “We got it, noona!” he said right by my ear, a little too loudly.
“Yeah, I saw,” I laughed. “Congrats, V.” I said with a smile as I gently grabbed his shoulders to move him away slightly before he could destroy my eardrum.
Staff around the room started approaching the boys with sound equipment to get them ready for their stage while the Bangtan Bomb cameras filmed them. The smiles on all their faces were as big as they could be, and I was so happy to see them like this.
After Jin was done getting set up for the stage and made sure the camera was focused on one of the members not close to me, he came over to wrap me in a hug too.
I chuckled as I returned the embrace. “Yes, Jinnie?”
“This is great,” he said. “I didn’t think we’d actually get the award. I’m so happy.” I could tell he was smiling by the tone in his voice as he rocked us back and forth.
“Yeah, I’m so happy for you guys,” I said. “Don’t forget you’re also up for the award a few more times too. Who knows, you might get another one.”
“That’d be crazy,” he said as he let me go.
The boys finished getting set up for their stage before leaving to get into their places. The stage was relatively short, only about five or six minutes. But especially after getting the award, it was meaningful. Not everyone got a chance to perform at these shows.
I held their trophy and watched on the screen in the back as the boys performed, wishing I could be out in the audience for once. Their excitement from winning their first award was still evident in how enthusiastic they were on stage and I longed to be in the audience to feel that excitement radiate off of them. I felt like this stage was more meaningful because of their win, and they didn’t come to disappoint.
When they finished, they came backstage again and they filmed a message to their fans for the Bangtan Bomb before we got ready to go home. They were still so happy and energetic. Even Yoongi, who is usually the calmest out of all of them, would randomly break into a happy dance or start to ramble excitedly with the others. Needless to say, the ride back to our apartments was noisy. And it made me so happy to see.
Sejin drove tonight, so I looked through twitter. I was curious to see what people had to say about tonight’s performance and our award. Of course we posted on twitter and the comments on our post were filled with love and support from the wonderful Army. It was amazing how even the simplest “congratulations” or “you guys were amazing” could make me feel so happy.
And then I decided to browse through the internet, looking on articles that were quickly written about the event. Now that was something I shouldn’t have done. My stomach churned when I saw piles on piles of comments saying that our boys didn’t deserve to win the award, that they have no talent and they won’t last even two years in the industry. Every now and then there was the light of a positive (or even neutral) comment in the dark sea of negative words, but I soon gave up trying to find more and went back to twitter to detox the comments from my mind.
Soon enough we were home and before I could even go to unlock my door, arms wrapped themselves around me and dragged me into the boys’ room.
“You’re not getting away that easily, noona,” Hoseok said as he let me go.
I laughed. “I’m not even allowed to set down my stuff, or maybe change into something more comfortable first?”
“Only if you promise to come right back,” Jungkook said from behind Hobi, resting his chin on his hyung’s shoulder and looking at me.
“I promise,” I said as I backed towards their door.
I only took a few minutes, changing into a comfy pair of pajamas before making my way across the hall again. When I reentered the room, I heard Jin on the phone ordering takeout while Tae was tickling Jungkook into a giggling puddle on the floor, and Jimin and Hobi were in a fit of laughter, the younger practically falling into Yoongi’s lap.
“Can’t you guys be quiet at least while Jin was on the phone?” I asked them, chuckling a little bit myself because the scene was just so crazy.
Tae let go of the younger boy and Jimin and Hobi’s laughter slowed down at that. “Sorry noona,” Jimin said. “Namjoonie hyung literally just tripped over thin air. It was the most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen, I couldn’t help it.”
“How can you say it was the most hilarious thing when you laugh at even the worst of Jin hyung’s dad jokes,” Yoongi retorted.
“Glad you thought me almost dying was hilarious,” Joon said.
“It really was though,” Hoseok said, laughing once more.
It was amazing how they lived together and spent every moment of every day together but still managed to keep conversations constantly flowing. I didn’t participate in the conversations very much, content just listening to each of the interesting stories from their childhoods they were currently sharing.
I didn’t know if it was because I was a bit tired, but my eyes kept falling to one of the boys in particular. I’d be watching someone else while they talked, but then he’d start to speak, or laugh, or just move around and my eyes would just gravitate to him and even linger on him for a bit afterward. Probably because he was sitting right across from me and it was just natural to look in that direction.
Even after the food arrived, and even still after we all finished eating the boys were still energetic. It was well into the night, but they showed no signs of settling down yet. Except Yoongi, he was back to his usual calm demeanor now. At least we didn’t have anything to do the next day, otherwise tomorrow would have royally sucked.
I sat a bit separated from the others, somewhat spacing out. I definitely didn’t have as much energy in me as these guys, but I felt like it would be rude if I just left right now. As I spaced out, my eyes stayed glued to him again.
Lost in my mind without any comprehensible thoughts, I felt a small smile sitting on my face but had no idea why. He turned and I vaguely noticed through my blurred, spaced out vision that his gaze met mine. I woke my brain back up to purposefully smile at him before turning away, embarrassed because I realized it probably looked like I was intentionally staring for who knew how long.
I opted to move my sight to the floor so I didn’t embarrass myself again. As I let my mind slip back into its hidden corners, I felt my heartbeat somewhat speed up. It brought me back to consciousness a bit so I could focus on it, wondering why that was happening. Then I started to feel my breath become shallower. I tried to focus on taking deeper breaths in but it didn’t seem to be working. I realized what must have been going on so I stood up to walk towards their door.
“Hey guys, I’m feeling pretty tired so I’m going to head back to get some sleep,” I said as calmly as I could muster. I let some of them say goodbye before I left as quickly as I could without (hopefully) seeming suspicious. As soon as I closed the door to my apartment, I leaned against the door and slid down. Without having any need to hold it back anymore, I felt the effects of the panic attack increase.
What was this? Where the heck did this come from? It had been so long since the last time I had a panic attack. My anxiety hadn’t been affecting me for a long time so I was confused as I let myself succumb to my body’s irrational reactions.
Then I remembered the thoughts that started surfacing recently. How I was worried about spending too much time around the boys, that I was going to annoy them if I didn’t distance myself a bit. How did I not recognize it before? My anxiety was coming back. I thought I had pushed it down, but I guessed it wasn’t as easy as that.
I willed my shaking body to get up and go to the kitchen to find paper bag from a recent takeout meal I had ordered so I could use it to regulate my breathing before it got worse. Why this trick worked was beyond me, but all I knew was that it was calming.
I tried to focus my thoughts, thinking of something comforting. While I was sure my body was panicking from insecurities about my friendship with the boys, when I fished my own mind for thoughts that were calming, he came to mind. His smile, his laughter, the feeling of his embrace. Soon enough, between that and regulating my breathing with the paper bag, I was able to bring my mind back to earth and my breathing and heartbeat regulated.
I needed to figure out how to keep this from happening again. The last thing I needed was to have a break down during work.
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The next day, I decided to try to spend by myself to make sure a repeat of the night before didn’t happen. And that was going all fine and dandy until there was a knock on my door.
I opened it to see Jungkook, who instantly entered my house before I could even say hello.
“Hey, Kook,” I said as he sat in my living room. “What’s up?”
“I’m hiding,” He said.
“Huh?” I tilted my head in confusion. “What are you hiding from?”
“Jin hyung.”
“Okay…” I sat across from him and raised my eyebrows. “Care to elaborate?”
He bit his bottom lip as he contemplated telling me. “Well, I may have ruined one of his Mario figures.”
“Oh no.” I gasped. “Not the Mario figures. Do you have a death sentence?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!”
“Does he know yet?”
“I would be dead if he did.”
“How did that happen anyway?”
He laughed nervously. “I accidentally bumped into the shelf with his figures when me and V hyung were wrestling. One of them had fallen off the shelf and hyung pushed me to the ground on top of it and it broke. It hurt, too.”
I shook my head and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It was nice knowing you, Kookie.”
Not two seconds after I said that, I heard a voice that was very distinctly Kim Seokjin’s yelling, “WHERE IS JEON JUNGKOOK?” That was quickly followed by a knocking on my door as the maknae ran into my bedroom to hide.
Good thing I keep my room clean, I thought as I opened my door. Jin entered quickly before saying, “Hi (Y/n). How are you today? Have you seen Jungkook?” within the spam of two seconds.
I blinked, taking a moment to register what he actually said before shaking my head no. “No, I haven’t seen him.”
“(Y/n),” he said, eyeing me carefully. “You’re not lying to me, are you?”
“Is he missing?” I asked, feigning ignorance. “Do we need to go looking for him?”
“Oh, he will be missing once I get my hands on him,” Jin said. “And I have a feeling he would have come to you to keep him safe.” He stepped closer to me, bending down until his face was mere inches away from mine. “So tell me, (Y/n), our precious little Kookie came here, didn’t he?”
Before I could say anything, a sound came from my bedroom. Jin hurried to my room and opened the door to Jungkook holding onto his foot. It seemed like he stubbed his toe on my bed frame. His eyes went wide as he saw Jin standing at the doorway.
“Jungkook…” The quiet tone of Jin’s voice was honestly scary.
“Yes, hyung?” the poor maknae asked as innocently as possible.
“Did you do this?” he pulled a broken Mario figure out of his pocket.
Jungkook gulped nervously, but didn’t say anything.
“Taehyung already told me you broke it so just admit to it,” Jin said.
“Wait, hold on,” Jungkook said, straightening up. “He’s as much at fault as I am. He’s the reason why I landed on it and it broke in the first place.”
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” Seokjin yelled as he grabbed Jungkook by the arm and dragged through my apartment back to their own.
Well, I guess Jimin is about to be the new maknae, I thought as I heard some more yelling and closed my door. I chose to go back to relaxing, not wanting to get in the middle of what was sure to be a blood bath.
Later, there was another knock at my door. I carefully opened it to see both Jungkook and Taehyung there.
“I’m not harboring anymore fugitives today,” I said.
“We didn’t do anything,” Taehyung replied. “We just wanted to stop by.”
I looked to Jungkook who nodded in confirmation. “Okay, well then come on in, I guess.” I sat in the living room and the boys followed, sitting on either side of me. “So, Jin didn’t kill you after all, huh?”
“Only because Namjoon hyung stopped him,” Tae said.
“Good,” I said, chuckling. “Be more careful next time, yeah?”
“We will,” Jungkook said, smiling.
I sighed, feeling strangely content. Yesterday was so strange. I had no reason to be feeling anxious or worried because actually more often than not, it was the boys seeking me out to spend time. If that didn’t show they wanted me around, I didn’t know what would. But then again, when did anxiety ever make sense?
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midnightmoonkiss · 5 years
Text
Failed-Night Stand
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Midoriya Izuku X Reader
Summary: A one night stand with a handsome stranger that doesn’t really end up being a one night stand.
WARNINGS!: Has some spicy mentions, ages 14+ !
Category: Fluff
Word Count: 3.5k+
Just to Clarify:
(B/F/N) = best friend name
(Agency) = the hero agency, you get to choose because I can’t.
This is an adult!au, where everyone has graduated UA years ago
                                         ───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────
A deep inhale cuts through the muffled city-morning sounds of birds chirping and cars honking, tired eyelids slowly fluttered open to reveal a room not at all yours. Light filtered in through the large, pristine window.
You slowly sat in a bed mind-blowingly comfortable, taking in the unfamiliar space. Nope. Definitely not yours. That was easy enough to tell, especially considering your room wasn’t light blue, nor were there walls lined with All Might figurines and assorted medals and trophies. 
Confusion momentarily sat in your system, the haze of sleep still residing in your mind gradually dissipated as tiny gears shifted into motion. 
Oh dear.
Groaning, you let your sitting form fall back against the bed with a soft thwump, letting your eyes slip back shut. It was pretty easy to tell what had happened last night, if your lack of clothes and the stale stench of sweat clinging to your body had anything to say about it.
An alcohol-induced one night stand.
With who? You couldn’t quite remember, despite the fact that the soreness in your throat came from screaming his name at some point in the night. It was impossible to even remember what took place, the last thing that you could recall happening was passionately kissing plump lips as large, warm hands traveled down exposed arms. One thing that you did remember, though, were his looks paired with an adorable personality. No doubt were they part of the reason you were here in the first place.
Judging from the lack of a person in bed and empty open bathroom connected with the room, he either left or was somewhere else in this apartment. You prayed for the first, not wanting to have another awkward encounter with someone you slept with the night before.
With a hum, you rolled out of bed, shakily getting to your feet. By god did it hurt to even stand, just how big and rough was this guy? He seemed like such a sweetheart.. Then again, most people lose themselves in the heat of the moment. It was quite flattering, really. 
As you stumbled about the room, picking up and putting on the undergarments you wore last night, memories slowly came into your mind. Alcohol was such a funky thing, only allowing you to remember certain things off the get go and wait for more to trickle in or figure others out. 
Luckily, or what seemed to be lucky anyway, the first was occurring.
                                            ───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────
The beat of drums pounded in your ears as you slurped at a cocktail, cringing at the almost addicting burn. Another Friday out late at a bar, drinking to soothe emotional cuts and bruises that manifested over the course of a particularly rough work week.
It’s always fun working late because your boss in an incompetent dick-wad.
Working in a hero agency is mostly everyone’s dream, but god were there always mountains of work and unreasonable deadlines.  
The desire to drink and relax with friends overthrew your weak sense of judgement, knowing it’d be better to have just stayed home with your beloved cat than go out and potentially get a migraine from the music that was too damn loud.
Luckily this night didn’t turn into what they usually did, no guys have tried to get into your pants yet, more than likely from the choice to dress cozy and not sleazy. Who wants a tight fitting dress when you could have a comfy sweater?
“You’ll n-ever believe who I met toooodaayyy~” (B/F/N), who was a horrific lightweight, slurred with that goofy drunken smile that always brought a laugh out of you. It was just too funny, childish glee radiating from them whenever their conscious got seized by the devil's drink.
“Who?” chuckled Katsumi, someone you had met in college and gotten along well enough  with to become friends and welcome into your pair, officially making it a group. Pretty sad how small it was. Perhaps you were all too picky with potential friends, who were you to complain though? It’s better being close to a select few then have an army of people you barely know, right?
(B/F/N)’s sweaty arm slithered behind your neck, bringing you closer to them as if to grasp onto their last bit of sanity before turning into an incomprehensible child to spew out their story.
“Ground~ Zerooo~! Can you believe it..? He’s soooo cut-e~”
“Yeah right!” Katsumi snorted, sipping at a fruity drink, something he was never afraid to order.
“I did..! Don’t you believe me, (Y/N)!”
Playfully, you tapped your chin with a finger, “Hmmm..”
The whine that you pulled from them was worth the act.
“I did! I did!” (B/F/N) felt the need to chant, arms raised high and face scrunched up in frustration. “Sure.”
“He smacked my ass!” They pouted,
Katsumi and you both shrieked with laughter, eyes watering from the no doubt large ass lie. My, how serious they looked too!
As if they’d ever meet a rising pro hero, the chances were too slim to even consider it. More than likely it was a weird dream they had but fought against it to make it seem real. We’ve all been there, haven’t we? Couldn’t blame ‘em.
Going to take another sip of your drink, desperate to cool down your overheated body from the heat drifting off everyone and mixing into one big shit show,disappointment flooded your being to find it empty, nothing but melting ice left in the glass. 
“I’m going to get another drink.” After getting a reluctant understanding nod from your friends, you stood up, waddling to the bar and plopping down on one of the highly used bar stools.
Surprisingly, it was cooler over here, no doubt from the many freezers resting near the bar to hold wine coolers, beer, and other assortment of drinks people liked to be cold. Ice could only do so much, especially when it melts faster than Olaf in front of that fire. Typically they lasted longer, but maybe time flew by without your comprehension of it doing so, causing the ice to melt faster than expected. It wasn’t fully melted, you’d give it that.
But that wasn’t to say it was all that pleasant, drunk off their mind young adults littered the other stools, shamelessly making out.
You huffed, unable to be one to talk on the account that you’ve personally been there before, much to your horror.
“What can I get you, (Y/N)?” Yokuto, the kind owner and barista of the bar in his mid fifties questioned, a small smile on his face at seeing one of his favorite customers. Has he mentioned that before? No. Did you believe it because you were somewhat narcissistic when tipsy? Yes.
“Mm..” Humming, (E/C) eyes looked over the large menu, “let’s go for an old fashioned.” A classic drink, good for giving you that delicious buzz without knocking you on your ass. Well, depending on how many you have that is. Hopefully that bite to eat before drinking tonight will do you a good service.
“Ah, look at you. Adventurous tonight, are we?” Yo teased, all too used to preparing you basic drinks.
“Shhshshshs.” You hushed him, not needing to go through the same conversation once a month despite it being one of the highlights of the night. Tonight would be relaxing, spent with your friends, boy were you determined to make that happ-
“Put it on my tab.” A man with a sweet yet deep voice interjected. Ah shit. Here we go.
You rubbed your temples, sighing. Of course this would happen when you didn’t want it to, that’s how it always works right? Can’t get laid when you want to, but suddenly everyone wants you the moment you’re not interested. ‘No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.. Maybe.. He’s just being nice!’ Your mind decided, internally desperate to be left alone.
“Very well, sir!” Chirped Yo. The fucker. I mean, at least you get a free drink?
That was always a plus, especially considering your student loans often times left very little money to buy such expensive drinks. Typically old fashions weren’t expensive, but it always depended on the bar you went to. Either way, ten bucks seemed over priced. Because of this, t’s like this man was a godsend, because no doubt this drink would’ve been the last your budget could’ve allowed.
Turning, you were just about to offer a ‘thank you’ before your voice caught in a dry throat. My, my, my, a godsend indeed, in more ways than one. This man was absolutely gorgeous!
Disco lights reflected off his shimmering emerald irises, soft looking curly green hair bouncing as he took a seat beside you. Lord, did you just want to touch it. Surely he was making big bucks, that much you could tell from his appearance alone. A suit too pristine and finely fitted to him to be bought from any old plain store, a watch large and complicated to match. His face was gorgeously sculpted, but still somehow managed to have chubby cheeks leftover from childhood, skin clearer than a piece of paper. Not only that, but those faded freckles dusting his cheeks were the cutest thing imaginable, his smile--- his smile? Why was he smiling? Not that it mattered considering angels were singing around it, the golden glow of heaven behind his head,
“Hey?” Sound re-entered your ears upon seeing his kissable lips move, ah shit has he been speaking this entire time? And you just zoned out?! Fuckfuckfuck-
“H-hi..” You stuttered, currently too tipsy to feel all too embarrassed about it. “Thank you uh, for the drink..” It was hard to keep such an overactive mind focused on talking and not making yourself look like a fool in front of someone ten times out of your league. Hell, were you even trying to be in his league? A calm night, right? No hullabaloo. 
“No problem!!” His eyes shifted around the bar, smile now nervous as a light blush coated his cheeks, “I just.. Uh..”
It was almost impossible not to coo at the adorable sight in front of you.
He glanced back, your gaze following his own to a group sat at a table meters away, all holding men giving him a thumbs up. Now just what was that about?
Without giving it too much thought, you grabbed your drink and took a sip, patiently waiting for the mystery man to finish his thought.
“You’re just.. Really cute.. And I um.. Wanted to get to know you a bit..?” He stuttered out, gnawing on his plump bottom lip, the bastard. How dare he say and do something so enticing? Clearly without meaning to as well. Or perhaps this was his tactic all along, not that you were entirely beginning to mind. 
Besides, he did buy you a drink, what’s the harm in chatting for a bit?
                                           ───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────
Funny how chatting led you to a handsome man's apartment and unable to remember parts of the night. Were you complaining? Absolutely not. It was easy to admit that last night certainly helped bring your week to a nice ending, but the intense ache between your legs almost wasn’t worth it.
It was just then that the appetizing smell of bacon wafted under the bedroom door, or perhaps it was always there but you were too caught up in your own world to realize it. Regardless, your mouth watered, tummy rumbling from lack of food, but surely it wasn’t for you.
It was funny how he was still here, though you should expect as much since this was his place and it was a Saturday. 
Perhaps once you find your purse, you could grab breakfast at a Denny’s or something..
A shriek followed by violent coughing tore through your throat as the door suddenly opened, the savory smell of breakfast food hitting you full force.
Not allowing yourself the time to look at him, you turned around, “Ah s-sorry.. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute..”
Gah. He must be pissed that you’re still here. Forgetting about sulking, you took a step towards your discarded sweater, violently cringing at the awkward angle and pain. By no means were you a virgin, so the only way this could have happened was if the guy was absolutely humongous and rough as shit. Not like your lust-filled self would’ve minded.
“Wait wait! Ah, sit down! You’re in pain!” 
“Wha?” The clang of a tray being set down and dishes rattling echoed in the room as you were suddenly pushed back onto the bed.
“Wh-what are you-?!” You were shushed as a glass of water pressed against your dry lips, 
“Here, drink this. It’s water!”
Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes absentmindedly trailing up muscular arms all the way to his worried face. 
This all seemed a bit too suspicious, never having been treated so kindly after a one night stand. Well, so far ‘kindly’ was a bit of a stretch but at least you now had something to finally moisten your screaming throat.
Eagerly wrapping a hand around the cold glass, you chugged like your life depended on it, which it probably did considering how dehydrated you felt.
It was almost as if the water cleared your head more, for memories hit you like a freight train. Nervous touches, untrained yet gentle hands, sweet moans filtering through your ear, the pure ecstasy of last night. Your face flushed, teeth grinding slightly as you fought off the memories to actually look as professional as you could, as you were currently only in your undies.
“I. um.. I figured you would need some since you were..ah..”
Amusement flooded your being watching him suddenly turn red, his eyes trailing over your barely clothed body before whipping away to the other wall. What a gentleman. At least you remembered his name now, on the account of praising it last night. Midoriya Izuku. Cute.
Gulping down the last sip of water, you were dead set on teasing him, curious to see what reaction you’d get. Even though now and before he seemed like a shy baby, which he probably is, you remembered clearly how dominating and hot he was. “Screaming and moaning like a bitch in heat?”
“Gahh!” He shoved his red face in a pillow he grabbed, incoherent mumbling escaping the crevices of it.
Oh how precious he is. It was unusual to see an adult act this way, but it certainly was welcomed with open arms.
His head shot up, realization crossing his features. “Ah! You’re in pain right? I’m really sorry..” Guilt sunk in his shimmering mesmerizing eyes, sunlight bouncing off them from the open curtain adjacent to the bed. “I was.. I lost myself last night and was a bit too.. rough with you.  I’m sorry. Really, I am..”
He was apologizing..? This was new, but it sure did feel nice.
Just as you were about to speak, he picked up the tray beside him on the floor and plopped it into your lap.
“I uh! I made you breakfast-! The pill is a standard ibuprofen for the pain.”
It was as if his voice was made of honey from how sweet and smooth it was, the pure innocence of it wrapping around your body in a warm blanket.
How refreshing it was, but..
A teasing smile made its way to your lips,
“You’re new to this whole one night stand thing, aren’t you?”
His mouth opened and closed like a fish, the flustered man clearly trying to form a sentence in his head.
“I-I- I.. N-no um..”
Humming, you took the pill, washing it down with water before you cut off a piece of pancake, tugging it off the fork and into your mouth and almost moaning at the flavor.
Sighing in defeat, he pouted up at you, “How can you tell..?”
You licked your lips slowly, marveling at the way his eyes followed its movement, “One night stands don’t usually involve breakfast in bed.”
“Well.”
He stood up, moving to sit next to you, awkwardly patting his thighs as you munched on a piece of crispy bacon. “I was kind of hoping this wouldn’t just be a one night stand.”
Confusion contorted your face, “You want another round? I wouldn’t be opposed-”
“No!” He interjected hands waving frantically as his face burned a vibrant vermillion.
“I meant like..! Like me taking you out on a proper date or something..! I.. I don���t want this just to end..”
“What do you mean?”
“I like you.”
“...huh?”
He scratched at the back of his neck, praying to every god out there that he didn’t sound like a major creep. He wasn’t! You both just so happened to work in the same building, and his eyes just always naturally pick you out in a crowd, sometimes drifting to you when in the same room or passing by. Granted, he’s in his hero costume then where his secret identity is sealed from the public. It sure would be nice to tell you who he truly was,  but he couldn’t let his cover be blown. Even if he did like you, trust was something no longer so easily gained after having the career he did. He’s seen what happened to people like Shoto and Tenya, he had no intention of having ever part of his personal life blown up like theirs. And so, he would stay hidden behind a green and silver mask.
The dilemma at hand, though, was telling you of his affections without seeming like a creep they’ve never seen before, which he probably would anyway considering you had no idea he was Deku.
It was actually a pretty lucky thing he had no merchandise of himself, in his home out in plain view that would give himself away. True, he had no idea he’d be lucky enough to take you home, but he couldn’t help but feel bad about it. You both had been drinking, and before he knew it, you were beneath him in his bed.
He was a lucky man to have been able to get you there in the first place, but you seemed interested enough in him. Truthfully, he was scared you’d immediately leave upon waking up, wanting nothing to do with him like he’s always heard from his friends and their one night stand experiences. It was nice that you actually stayed and ate the breakfast he spent far too long on.
Here goes nothing.
“I’ve actually noticed you around work for a while now. You’re so reliable and kind to your co-workers, always the goofball cracking jokes to pass time.. Last night, my friends encouraged me to finally talk to you.”
Wait! He sounded like a total stalker just now didn’t he! Gah! You look like you think he’s a creep! Fuck! He probably is isn’t he! No! He isn’t- oh no,,
“N-not that I’m stalking you I swear! We just happened to be at the same bar at the same time..! I had no idea it would lead to this..”
What a word vomit. It was endearing, really. You couldn’t help but giggle, he was just so cute.
The giggling only made him blush harder, hands quickly going down to grasp at the hem of his shirt, a nervous habit he picked up somewhere along the line. 
“It’s okay~” You sang, immensely happy to know someone actually likes you and desperate to calm him down a bit, despite having no idea who this handsome stranger was. By god wait that sounded kind of creepy.
It’s not like you needed to know a stranger well to sleep with them, but it sure did peak your interests to know he was a fellow co-worker at a hero agency. 
“Thank you for the food, by the way.” You took another bite of fluffy pancakes, turning to look at him again, “So you work at (Agency)’s too? I’ve never seen you around before.”
You always had a knack for noticing almost everyone, and you pride yourself on knowing the majority of people considering you’ve been working there for three years now. It was strange, surely you’d notice such a strong stud.
Wait.
“Oh! You’re a hero, aren’t you? Those scars and muscles, paired with the fact that I've never seen you before, you must be?”
Shock slapped his face. Bingo.
“Heh. I knew it!”
That victorious smile that graced your lips immediately died off once you noticed him clearly internally freak out. He looked like he was about to pass out, eyes wide and pupils shrunk, mouth shakily trying to speak.
This certainly wasn’t how you wanted this to play out, but beggars can’t be choosers?
“H-hey calm down..! I don’t know who your hero persona is, if that helps!”
Geeze, you pulled yourself into a mess, didn't you?
Lips pulled into a worried straight line as you tried to calm him down by rubbing his shoulder.
“Oh! Ok, good! Ah..” He breathed a sigh of relief out his nose, chuckling bashfully, “That’s a relief.. I don’t think you’d be even the slightest bit interested in me if you knew the other guy first.”
It was hard to tell if this meant he had a completely different personality when in the suit, or if he just all around dislikes his normal self. Honestly, it doesn’t sound like it would at all be the first option. It wasn’t uncommon for heroes to prefer being their hero-sona rather than, well, them. ‘Confidence comes from the ability to impress and protect people!’ You recalled one hero exclaiming on the screen when that topic popped up late one night on a talk show interview.
It was sad to see such great people felt that way.
“Well. I don’t need the other guy. I’d like to get to know you better, if that’s possible, Midoriya.”
His face instantly brightened, that beautiful smile from last night resurfacing, the light from that window making it look like a halo formed around his head. Which wouldn’t be too weird considering he was practically an angel already. 
“R-Really?!” He excitedly asked, sparkles dancing in his eyes at the implications.
“Yes-”
“Then how about I take you on a date today then!! I know this really great restaurant and they sell these cheesy biscuits..!”
You would’ve gotten whiplash if you hadn’t already been expecting this. You smiled sweetly at him.
“I’d love that.”
Thus started your relationship with Izuku, unknowingly the bright pro her, Deku.
“But uh.. Can I get changed now..? And I need to call my friends-”
“Ah! Right! Yes, of course! Sorry-”
                                          ───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────
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davidmann95 · 4 years
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Superman’s 10 Best of the ‘10s
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Good Miracle Monday, folks! The first third Monday of May of a new decade for that matter, and while that means that today in the DC Universe Superman just revealed his secret identity to the world on the latest anniversary of that time he defeated the devil, in ours it puts a capstone on a solid 10 years of his adventures now in the rear view mirror, ripe for reevaluation. And given there’s a nice solid ‘10′ right there I’ll go ahead with the obvious and list my own top ten for Superman comics of the past decade, with links in the titles to those I’ve spoken on in depth before - maybe you’ll find something you overlooked, or at least be reminded of good times.
A plethora of honorable mentions: I’m disqualifying team-ups or analogue character stories, but no list of the great Superman material of the last decade would be complete without bringing up Cave Carson Has A Cybernetic Eye #7, Avengers 34.1, Irredeemable, Sideways Annual #1, Supreme: Blue Rose, Justice League: Sixth Dimension, usage of him in Wonder Twins, (somewhat in spite of itself) Superior, from all I’ve heard New Super-Man, DCeased #5, and Batman: Super Friends. And while they couldn’t quite squeeze in, all due praise to the largely entertaining Superman: Unchained, the decades’ great Luthor epic in Superman: The Black Ring, a brilliant accompaniment to Scott Snyder’s work with Lex in Lex Luthor: Year of the Villain, the bonkers joy of the Superman/Luthor feature in Walmart’s Crisis On Infinite Earths tie-in comics, Geoff Johns and John Romita’s last-minute win in their Superman run with their final story 24 Hours, Tom Taylor’s quiet criticism of the very premise he was working with on Injustice and bitter reflection on the changing tides for the character in The Man of Yesterday, the decades’ most consistent Superman ongoing in Bryan Miller and company’s Smallville Season 11, and Superman: American Alien, which probably would have made the top ten but has been dropped like a hot potato by one and all for Reasons. In addition are several stories from Adventures of Superman, a book with enough winners to merit a class of its own: Rob Williams and Chris Weston’s thoughtful Savior, Kyle Killen and Pia Guerra’s haunting The Way These Things Begin, Marc Guggenheim and Joe Bennett’s heart-wrenching Tears For Krypton, Christos Gage and Eduardo Francisco’s melancholy Flowers For Bizarro, Josh Elder and Victor Ibanez’s deeply sappy but deeply effective Dear Superman, Ron Marz and Doc Shaner’s crowdpleasing Only Child, and Kelly Sue DeConnick and Valentine DeLandro’s super-sweet Mystery Box.
10. Greg Pak/Aaron Kuder’s Action Comics
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Oh, what might’ve been. In spite of an all-timer creative team I can’t justify listing this run any higher given how profoundly and comprehensively compromised it is, from the status quo it was working with to the litany of ill-conceived crossovers to regular filler artists to its ignominious non-ending. But with the most visceral, dynamic, and truly humane take on Clark Kent perhaps of all time that still lives up to all Superman entails, and an indisputably iconic instant-classic moment to its name, I can’t justify excluding it either.
9. Action Comics #1000
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Arguably the climax to the decade for the character as his original title became the first superhero comic to reach a 1000th issue. While any anthology of this sort is a crapshoot by nature, everyone involved here seemed to understand the enormity of the occasion and stepped up as best they could; while the lack of a Lois Lane story is indefensible, some are inevitably bland, and one or two are more than a bit bizarre, by and large this was a thoroughly charming tribute to the character and his history with a handful of legitimate all-timer short stories.
8. Faster Than A Bullet
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Much as Adventures of Superman was rightfully considered an oasis amidst the New 52′s worst excesses post-Morrison and in part pre-Pak, few stories from it seem well-remembered now, and even at the time this third issue inexplicably seemed to draw little attention. Regardless, Matt Kindt and Stephen Segovia’s depiction of an hour in the life of Superman as he saves four planets first thing in the morning without anyone noticing - while clumsy in its efforts at paralleling the main events with a literal subplot of a conversation between Lois and Lex - is one of the best takes I can recall on the scope on which he operates, and ultimately the purpose of Clark Kent.
7. Man and Superman
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Seemingly geared on every front against me, built as it was on several ideas of how to handle Superman’s origin I legitimately hate, and by a writer whose work over the years has rarely been to my liking, Marv Wolfman and Claudio Castellini’s Man and Superman somehow came out of nowhere to be one of my favorite takes on Clark Kent’s early days. With a Metropolis and characters within it that feel not only alive but lived-in, it’s shocking that a story written and drawn over ten years before it was actually published prefigured so many future approaches to its subject, and felt so of-the-moment in its depiction of a 20-something scrambling to figure out how to squeeze into his niche in the world when it actually reached stores.
6. Brian Bendis’s run
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Controversial in the extreme, and indeed heir to several of Brian Bendis’s longstanding weaknesses as a writer, his work on The Man of Steel, Superman, and Action Comics has nevertheless been defined at least as much by its ambition and intuitive grasp of its lead, as well as fistfuls of some of the best artistic accompaniment in the industry. At turns bombastic space action, disaster flick, spy-fi, oddball crime serial, and family drama, its assorted diversions and legitimate attempts at shaking up the formula - or driving it into new territory altogether, as in the latest, apparently more longterm-minded unmasking of Clark Kent in Truth - have remained anchored and made palatable by an understanding of Superman’s voice, insecurities, and convictions that go virtually unmatched.
5. Strange Visitor
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The boldest, most out-of-left-field Superman comic of the past 10 years, Joe Keatinge took the logline of Adventures of Superman to do whatever creators wanted with the character and, rather than getting back to a classic take absent from the mainline titles at the time as most others did, used the opportunity for a wildly expansive exploration of the hero from his second year in action to his far-distant final adventure. Alongside a murderer’s row of artists, Keatinge pulled off one of the few comics purely about how great Superman is that rather than falling prey to hollow self-indulgence actually managed to capture the wonder of its subject.
4. Superman: Up In The Sky
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And here’s the other big “Superman’s just the best” comic the decade had to offer that actually pulled it off. Sadly if reasonably best-known for its one true misfire of a chapter, with the increasing antipathy towards Tom King among fans in general likely not helping, what ended up overlooked is that this is a stone-cold classic on moment of arrival. Andy Kubert turns in work that stands alongside the best of his career, Tom King’s style is honed to its cleanest edge by the 12-pager format and subject matter, and the quest they set their lead out on ends up a perfect vehicle to explore Superman’s drive to save others from a multitude of angles. I don’t know what its reputation will end up being in the long-term - I was struck how prosaic and subdued the back cover description was when I got this in hardcover, without any of the fanfare or critic quotes you’d expect from the writer of Mister Miracle and Vision tackling Superman - but while its one big problem prevents me from ranking it higher, this is going to remain an all-timer for me.
3. Jeff Loveness’s stories Help and Glasses
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Cheating shamelessly here, but Jeff Loveness’s Help with David Williams and Glasses with Tom Grummett are absolutely two halves of the same coin, a pair of theses on Superman’s enduring relevance as a figure of hope and the core of Lois and Clark’s relationship that end up covering both sides of Superman the icon and Superman the guy. While basically illustrated essays, any sense of detached lecturing is utterly forbidden by the raw emotion on display here that instantly made them some of the most acclaimed Superman stories of the last several years; they’re basically guaranteed to remain in ‘best-of’ collections from now until the end of time.
2. Superman Smashes The Klan
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A bitter race for the top spot, but #2 is no shame here; while not quite my favorite Superman story of the past ten years, it’s probably the most perfectly executed. While I don’t think anyone could have quite expected just *how* relevant this would be at the top of the decade, Gene Yang and Gurihiru put together an adventure in the best tradition of the Fleischer shorts and the occasional bystander-centered episodes of Batman: The Animated Series to explore racism’s both overt and subtle infections of society’s norms and institutions, the immigrant experience, and both of its leads’ senses of alienation and justice. Exciting, stirring, and insightful, it’s debuted to largely universal acknowledgement as being the best Superman story in years, and hopefully it’ll be continued to be marketed as such long-term.
1. Grant Morrison’s Action Comics
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When it came time to make the hard choice, it came in no small part down to that I don’t think we would have ever seen a major Golden Age Superman revival project like Smashes The Klan in the first place if not for this. Even hampering by that godawful Jim Lee armor, inconsistent (if still generally very good) art, and a fandom that largely misunderstood it on arrival can’t detract from that this is Grant Morrison’s run on a Superman ongoing, a journey through Superman’s development as a character reframed as a coherent arc that takes him from Metropolis’s most beaten-down neighborhoods to the edge of the fifth dimension and the monstrous outermost limits of ‘Superman’ as a concept. It launched discussions of Superman as a corporate icon and his place relative to authority structures that have never entirely vanished, introduced multiple all-time great new villains, and made ‘t-shirt Superman’ a distinct era and mode of operation for the character that I’m skeptical will ever entirely go away. No other work on the character this decade had the bombast, scope, complexity, or ambition of this run, with few able to match its charm or heart. And once again, it was, cannot stress this enough, Grant Morrison on an ongoing Superman book.
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gallavictorious · 4 years
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hi!! i am currently watching s10 of shameless rn and i just finished 10x09. i’m still a little confused as to exactly WHY ian doesn’t wanna get married. Does he really not love mickey enough at this point? Can you give me your opinion? thanks xx
Hiya nonnie! Hope you're having a blast watching season 10! :)
I can certainly give you my opinion (and I was delighted to be asked for it!), but I should preface this by noting that it's a work in progress: Ian is a character that I really love but sometimes struggle to understand. Because of this I spend a lot of time thinking about him and his motivations, and my thoughts on those tend to develop and shift as I discuss them with others. This is not likely to be my final say on this issue, and it's not a fully formed or all-encompassing explanation either. Make of it what you will (and as always, feel free to chime in with your own ideas, because I'd love to hear them).
First things first: Ian's hesitation has nothing to do with his love for Mickey. “It's marriage that I don't know that I love,” he says, and I think he's being entirely honest here (which is supported by the fact that he continues to profess his love and try to work things out with Mickey even after the latter has accidentally broken his leg and run off with another guy). His reluctance is multi-layered, and I doubt that Ian himself is initially very clear on just why he hesitates. Lip's advice to figure that out before he does anything else is good, and Ian eventually does get his thoughts on the issue sorted out, even if he has some trouble communicating that to Mickey.
I've previously written a bit about what goes down with both Mickey and Ian in 10x08-10, and in that piece I focused on the fact that “Ian absolutely knows that Mickey will stand by him through thick and thin, and this scares him because what if he develops into someone that Mickey no longer can love but feels obligated to stay with anyway? Ian hates being helpless; Ian hates being a victim; Ian hates feeling indebted to people because that implies he can’t take care of himself, and I think that nothing terrifies him more than being a project, or being someone people stay with because they pity him or worry that he can’t take care of himself. The issue here, I think, is that he doesn’t trust Mickey to leave.”
I still think there's some truth to this, but returning to this question now – thanks to your lovely ask – I have two additional thoughts, which I believe play a large part as well:
Firstly, I'd say that Ian is very, very wary of making Mickey a promise that he's not completely sure he can keep. When Debbie tells him he might as well marry Mickey to make him happy since he can always get a divorce later on, Ian is initally ready to roll with this idea, but he's clearly not really feeling it, as illustrated by his wish for Lip to talk him out of the whole thing. I believe that this reluctance stems not from a general concern about the sanctity of marriage, but rather a very real fear of letting Mickey, specifically, down. In the past, and for a number of perfectly understandable reasons, Ian has walked away from Mickey. Whether it is entirely fair or not, I'd argue that several of these instances feel like broken promises, both to Ian and to Mickey, and Ian absolutely does not want to hurt Mickey like that again. As he later tells Mickey, he doesn't know who he is from day to day, so he can't promise Mickey shit. Better not to make any promises at all then, right?
Secondly, I think that Mickey's reluctance to actually talk about things is a real stumbling block. Ian has concerns and fears both about himself and about getting married, and those are things that he (very sensibly!) wants to discuss with Mickey before they get hitched. But Mickey won't have it – when Ian brings their future up in 10x03 Mickey shuts him down, and the same thing happens when Ian repeatedly (at the court house, and twice outside of Byron's) tries to discuss it after their first, botched attempt at a wedding.
I’ve participated in some recent and very interesting discussions about how both Ian and Mickey have been reluctant to face and properly talk about their tangled past and the hurt it's caused them, and how this reluctance plays a large part in how things play out between them in season 10. While I do agree with @whaticameherefor in that they must have had some meaningful conversations after their prison reunion, I do believe – not least because of what we saw in season 10 – that they have yet to fully discuss and make peace with what's gone before and the things they've done that's hurt the other. Ian, I think, is now willing and ready to talk, even though it's difficult for him, and – as @damngcoffee notes – Mickey makes some attempt at expressing his feelings when he asks for Ian to throw his parole, but it's still just scratching the surface, and they (well, mostly Mickey) still shy away from being candid about the really difficult and painful stuff.
This is unfortunate in general, but it's also directly tied to Ian's reservations about marriage. Bascially, he needs confirmation that Mickey truly understands what he's getting into, what with Ian's illness being a thing they can never escape. This is what Ian tries to articulate when he shows up with the promise rings, but he doesn't quite manage – partly because he's not actually very good at expressing himself (lack of practice, no doubt – but he's trying!) and partly because Mickey takes the mere suggestion that Ian isn't convinced of Mickey's  commitment as an insult and won't hear anything else. To Mickey, a man of action, his past deeds should make it plenty obvious that he is fully committed, and so Ian questioning that is a sign that Ian doesn't understand and appreciate all that Mickey's done and sacrifieced for him (whether Ian asked him to do it or not). To Mickey the whole situations likely reads like Ian trying to pin his own insecurities and lack of love on Mickey just to have an excuse to back out of getting married. This is not an accurate read at all, however: what Mickey doesn't understand is that Ian absolutely isn’t questioning Mickey's love or commitment: he just needs reassuarance that Mickey has really thought about this; has actually considered what Ian's illness means for their future and Ian's ability to make promises, and has come to the informed conclusion that sure, he does want this in spite of all that, in spite of the uncertainity of it all. Given Mickey's tendency to do rush in and do anything for the people he loves, and his unwillingness to talk about his feelings, it's not at all unreasonable for Ian to worry about this and want to have an actual discussion about it.
(I would also like to note that I really understand where Mickey is coming from here: given their past, there is little wonder that he's feeling insecure about Ian's feelings and reacts so strongly when Ian won't sign the papers. He misunderstands Ian, to be sure, but it's very easy to see why he would do that. I've also previously written a short meta on why Mickey's reluctance to talk about his feelings is perfectly understandable, which you can read here if you're so inclined.)
So, that's my opinion nonnie: Ian's hesitation regarding marriage has nothing to do with a lack of love for Mickey. :) Though he has to deal with his issues without actually getting to discuss them with Mickey - which is unfortunate, but let’s hope they start dealing with that once they’re back together - he finally understands enough to feel confident to propose to Mickey again.
Phew. Unsurprsingly this got pretty long: hopefully this was somewhat coherent. As mentioned, it's not in any way a comprehensive overview of the situation, but just touches upon a few aspects I think is particularly pertinent to it. Please feel free to contradict me or add your own further thoughts.
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regarding your inexperienced w zines mod team- do u at least have somebody handling finances that has experience w a completed zine? that’s SUPER important, especially now, and I would urge you to reach out if not and find somebody to handle that positon. looking forward to this zine!
Hello anon,
I am Mod Dogfeathers*, and while posting directly to our socials is somewhat rare for me, I am This Simple Feeling's current Finance Mod, and so I thought it very important that I address your concerns directly, myself. I am very shy, I am neurodivergent, and I have severe social anxiety, and so most of the work I've done for This Simple Feeling thusfar has been infrastructural and supportive, somewhat away from wider visibility. However, I am extremely aware of the awesome responsibility that falls squarely on my shoulders as finance mod, and that the community around our zine– from my fellow mods and our potential contributors to the fans who will be cheering us on and reading issue 6 next year– must be able to depend on me to manage our finances through every stage of This Simple Feeling's production. The success of our project requires the community's collective confidence in me, and I am extremely keen to build that trust.
So, first, I want to apologize for the length of time that you've had to wait for this reply, and assure you we've been taking your concerns very seriously. Much of this time has been spent in deliberative reflection as to whether or not I should remain in this role. I love this project, and I have invested a prodigious amount of time and effort and affection into it since Head Mod @menecio approached me in early November 2020; I desperately want it to succeed. I have never wavered that I want to remain in this role, and my fellow staff have not wavered in their conviction that I should remain here, too. That said, I am aware that the success of our zine does not particularly care about what I want or what feels good, and so I took some time to seriously assess my own capabilities, to strenuously question my resolve, and to seek advice from people with zine experience who I trust. We have determined that I shall remain Finance Mod, but I want to stress that this was neither an easy nor an immediate decision– I did not let it be an easy or immediate decision, because what has always mattered to me is what's best for the zine. In the end, that determination was made based on the work that I've already done and the trust that my team has in my abilities.
Nevertheless, we want to emphasize that we continue to take your concerns seriously; we recognize that my lack of zine experience is both significant and reasonable cause for concern. We are taking additional measures to address that lack, beyond those that I insisted upon when I accepted this role. I will shortly lay out some of my relevant experience, but in recognition that it is limited and that it may not be sufficient to assuage your concerns, I want to make clear one of the additional measures that I requested during this period of consideration.
My husband and my partner of ten years, Tom, is a trained accountant, and he will now be supervising my work for this project directly. He had already agreed to assist me informally, and had– with supreme patience– already conducted a few intense, 6 hour long sessions to explain the ways that double-entry bookkeeping and Microsoft Access can be used to manage a project of this nature. He will continue to do that, but he will also be keeping an eye on my work and checking up that work periodically. I will still be managing our accounts, my name will still be on our books, and this will still be my job, but Tom will be actively present to confirm that I am doing this correctly. He does not have zine experience, he is not involved in fandom, and he does not have fandom-relevant socials– he has no specific pull towards fandom participation, the way I do– but he has worked for several years as one of two accountants for the library of one of the USA's top 40 public research universities, managing the extremely complex and surprisingly variable needs of such a massive nonprofit, and has been responsible for controlling several million dollars of public acquisitions spending in that capacity. (His way of describing this: "Each year we spent about the same amount as the budget for 10 Things I Hate About You, and I was in charge of a little over half of it.")
As part of this supervisory role, Tom is also going to maintain a presence in our server. He is not a mod and plays no part in decision making beyond occasionally giving us financial advice when asked, but he has appropriate server roles to provide direct access to mod discussions, so that he can be present to pay attention when I bring financial data to the team, and to answer our collective financial questions, should any arise that are beyond my personal capacity. When his schedule permits, he is also available to our contributors and mods to answer their questions directly in server.
What follows is a non-comprehensive, but hopefully thorough, summary of my relevant experience.
By training and professionally, I am a studio artist with an MFA, the terminal degree in my field. I manage my own studio practice. This is a complicated, variable job that requires a great deal of flexibility, responsiveness, and skill– most of which does not actually involve the hand-skills necessary to create the literal artwork the studio practice ostensibly produces. As an artist, I am a sole proprietor, and my studio is my business, but with very specific needs not necessarily found in other businesses, and I run it without assistants. I maintain my inventory and my supplies, I purchase and manage equipment necessary to create work, I manage my work through various states of creation and exhibition and– sometimes– publication, I take on clients for commission, I apply to shows (for which there is always a fee), I work with gallerists and curators, I research and make connections with different platforms and specialist logistics businesses (PayPal/money handlers, banks, streaming platforms, printers, data storage). All of those affect my studio's finances, and so they must be managed carefully, in addition to sales of prints and original artwork (thusfar handled privately, as is fairly normal– we are often encouraged not to maintain digital storefronts, because it can dissuade potential gallerists from representing us; I am in the process of threading that needle.) In this capacity, I have no employer: I am responsible for taxes– both knowing what they are and paying them– and fees, I am responsible for my costs, and I am responsible to my business partners. There is no external buffer– if I fail any of this, I am the only party responsible for making it right.
Because I believe in the transformative power of art (and, for that matter, fandom), I try to work with local arts organizations and nonprofits when possible, particularly when it comes to showing my work and engaging in community arts efforts. I prefer to support group projects that elevate multiple artists, and/or organizations that serve diverse communities. Prior to COVID, I was doing a volunteer-intensive residency with local community arts nonprofit whose mission is to bring art and heritage craft skills to communities that would not otherwise be able to access such training; COVID has necessitated a change in my ability to serve them, but I do still work for them in a more limited capacity, usually grantwriting.
Though I prioritize nonprofits, I have also worked as an assistant/intern for urban galleries using for-profit and co-op funding structures, which involved both basic work associated with gallery assistantship (manning desks, running errands, calling support businesses, promotion, show installation, etc), and sometimes work on specific projects that required knowledge of the institution's fiscal state and available funds (from contacting local businesses about the replacement of a gallery's floor and helping to plan the launching of a new residency, to more routine tasks, such as contacting local bakeries about catering or hosting satellite shows, and ordering promotional material from printers.) All galleries run on extremely tight budgets, and having been exposed to a variety different gallery funding structures (with concomitantly different priorities and audiences) gives me an awareness of the work and the precision required to achieve ambitious goals with extremely limited finances. They are why I price things out on three levels: the ideal, the nearly-ideal, and the most affordable that still meets our high bar for quality.
I have experience writing grants, both for myself and (more notably) for the nonprofit at which I am an AIR (artist in residence). The most ambitious of these grants has reached the second stage of consideration, which is notable both because the granting organization is not arts specific, the deciding board is composed mostly of bankers with deep fiscal expertise, and we were asking for funds significantly in excess of what that grant usually offers. That decision is expected in June of next year. Grant-writing is less of an abstraction on the skills necessary for a zine than it might initially seem: both involve my operation as an agent representing the organization for which I requesting money; art grants are usually for very specific projects with very specific constraints; they usually require that our funding comes from multiple sources that are then pooled to enact the project; the projects have a specific lifespan and a schedule on which key stages must be completed; they require extremely precise budgeting; we are directly accountable for both the project and the precise management and tracking of said funding; and we must be ready to provide statements and proof of the project's progress and funding at every stage of the project's active lifespan, as well as a summary report at the end.
I have curatorial experience with local and regional art shows, usually organized by a small independent team working closely with a local, preferably-nonprofit gallery who is lending us their space; those roles are very analogous to the XO/logistical role I am currently fulfilling for This Simple Feeling. Though we worked with local galleries, and could sometimes make use of some of their equipment (such as hammers and nails and– if we were very lucky– leftover paint), we were responsible for every aspect of the actual hosting of the show and associated costs. This included equipment rental, installation costs, costs to repair & repaint to walls from the normal damage of installation, catering, sometimes utilities and space rental, etc. All of those costs were additional to the cost of recruiting artists, hosting calls, managing the artists and their work, managing sales of the work throughout the duration of the show, managing the sales of any prints the artists or merch the artists wanted to offer alongside the work, and organizing any publications or promotional materials released for the shows. Each show had different financial needs, but they all required budgets prior to their beginning, modified when necessary as the project came closer to realization and new constraints presented themselves. The businesses we solicited quotes from and our cost-reduction strategies varied from show to show, but all of the teams I worked with were semi-formal groups of friends and collaborators, similar to the teams that design zines, and so we did not have a pool of institutional capital to use for funding– we had to generate or barter for all of that ourselves. We did it because we loved it and we believed in it, not because it was potentially lucrative (community art shows almost never are, even less than zines; the point is celebration of our community.)
And that, honestly, is one of the most relevant bits of experience I've accumulated to date, tangential but applicable to a project like this: the awareness that this kind of project is done for love, not money. Issue 6 is being produced for charity, but even wildly successful for-profit zines will almost never be able to make enough profit to adequately compensate the cost of the staff's time, which would be upwards of $20k, if you paid them $10/hr, which is below the cost of living in most parts of my country. The cost to hire freelance writers is, at minimum, $.10 a word. The artwork in zines would cost in the hundreds– and, more realistically, thousands– of dollars, in a professional illustrative or fine art context. The writers and artists who contribute to zines absolutely make work that reaches (and exceeds) the professional standards required to participate in those industries. Our contributors have trained for years to hone their skills, and they put those skills towards making work for us, for free; our staff similarly donate their time to accomplish very complex tasks to support that creative work; that time could be spent producing work for those professional contexts, but instead they give it to us, and they do that because they believe in us and our community, and they want to celebrate a fandom and a ship– Star Trek and K/S– that have brought us together, and (with Trek and K/S specifically) have supported fandom engagement for over five decades. They give that work to us, and the only thing they ask is for us to make a zine out of it. I am an artist and a writer, I have formal training in both disciplines, and I understand these costs: I cannot express how seriously I take the gift of their time and energy, and how profoundly I am humbled to be trusted with it.
If I sound zealous, it's because I am, and because I am excruciatingly aware that from the moment our staff begins working on this project and our contributors start making their works, the financial responsibility for taking all that gifted energy and skill and effort becomes solely my own. If I fail as finance mod, I do not fail only myself, as would be the case in my studio practice– I also fail my fellow mods and every single one of my contributors, and I fail the community responsible for the generation of work that has provided me solace for decades. If I fuck up as finance mod, it is solely my responsibility to make it right.
As I said before, your concerns are absolutely reasonable– I share many of them– and all of this experience is tangential, and zines are different projects to those that I've worked on before, with different constraints and needs. I have thus taken action and structured my own work as a mod to assuage these concerns in myself, in ways that I hope will concomitantly assuage some of your concerns as well. I am paying attention to my own inexperience, I am preventing myself from functioning on auto-pilot, I am taking nothing for granted, and I am being actively vigilant for the inevitable gaps in my own expertise.
That's easy to say, but what does it look like? Thusfar, it takes the form of huge amounts of research, and the connection to a extant network of experienced zinesters, both of which are repositories of information with which I am trying to plug some of my gaps. I know well, as an academic who also practices disciplines (art and writing) that are precarious by their nature, that there is a big difference between external research and experience– but if everyone starts somewhere, then I have gone to great lengths to map out the place where I'm starting as thoroughly as possible. I have read (and often annotated) literally every resource on the production and staffing of fandom zines that I could find. When I have a question, I check these sources and I also look for examples of whatever I'm curious about 'in the wild'. To determine the likely price of our zine, for example, I looked through seven pages of tags on popular hub/promotion blogs on Tumblr, and generated a comprehensive Excel sheet from one such session that allowed me to compare prices against the number of pages and the kinds of merch offered alongside the zines in question. To balance the holes in that mode of data collection, I have also sought contacts and tried to build a relationship with communities around zine production: i have close friends who work on zines (and who initially got me interested in this kind of project– you know who you are, and my thanks is infinite for your patience and your willingness to act as resource), and I regularly make a pest of myself by asking strange questions to folks in Discord servers dedicated to the topic (I am also grateful to these communities, in similar terms). When possible, or if the question is specific enough, I try to go directly to the source: when I was uncertain what, specifically, could be used to verify a PayPal account, and found conflicting answers in their documentation, I spent three days talking to various help desk personnel until I found a solid answer on which to proceed. All of this is basic, and deserves no accolades.
If I am anything in my personal art practice, it is a colorist, and so I already had fairly deep knowledge of color theory prior to my involvement here– however, because color accuracy is so important to printed artwork, and depends so much on printer technology, the capacity and setup of individual print shops, and digital color spaces, I have spent time researching this too. I have requested printing samples from 7 different printers, and I have peppered the ones that meet the zine's standards with esoteric questions about what kind of printing presses they use and what ICC profiles their digital presses are set up to handle. I have done this because when it comes time (very shortly) for our Art Mod (@i-drive-a-nii-san) and myself to make some final determinations on which printers we want to use, it is important to me personally that we have the most comprehensive data available with which to make that decision. The zine that we publish needs to be pragmatically affordable– but within the scope of that pragmatism, I want the best quality possible, so as to do justice to the contributions that will live on its pages. 
I am aware that all of my experience is tangential, and that the direct relevance that it has on this situation is limited. I am aware that there are gaps in my knowledge. I am aware of the awesome responsibilities I have as finance mod, and that I am a potential bottleneck upon which this project either breaks and fails or through which it passes and succeeds. I am aware of the gift inherent in every work we receive and every moment of staff working time, and the legacies at play with K/S specifically. I am aware that all the book-learning in the world has limited bearing on the actual experience of doing something on the ground. I find my experience lacking, and for that reason, I very seriously considered stepping down. I am humbled by the responsibility required by this position; I decided to stay because the trust my team expressed in me was also humbling.
My experience may be tangential, but there is a final element that I strongly suspect is applicable to my role as finance mod (and mod generally): in a project like a zine, done for love and for community, there are a myriad ways in which trust matters, small enough to overlook but overwhelming in their accumulation. The trust of the external fandom/zinester community matters, and for that reason I am being as honest as possible, and almost ceded my position to someone with greater experience; the trust of one's fellow staff and collaborators also matters in significant ways. An administrative team that trusts each other– that has confidence in each others' abilities and convictions, that understands each others' outlooks and that communicates well, and that deeply believes that that they will mutually have each other's backs– that kind of administrative team is an awesome thing, and their confidence is often perceptible to the contributors in very real ways, who then trust the administrative team to have their backs and to support them as necessary. Collaborators and administrators who have established that trust with each other tend to work together more effectively, and produce stronger work as a result, especially in a creative capacity. Good work requires creative risk-taking, which in turn requires the certainty that administration can support the necessary risk-taking and facilitate its success. The establishment of such trust is not automatic– we must work for it, actively– but the team involved in issue 6 of This Simple Feeling has that trust in each other, and the willingness to build it with both our collaborators and the wider community around our zine.
My confidence in the rest of my team is unshakeable. They have, in turn, expressed their confidence in me, that I am able to do the tasks and handle the responsibility involved with being finance mod on a project as specific and complex as a fandom zine for charity; I will trust them, and I will continue to work to earn their trust. I will also trust the broad community of zinesters around me, and solicit their expertise to help me navigate unfamiliar waters, and I will trust the professional expertise of my partner, who I have asked to donate his time. I will not lie, and so I make no promise that I won't fuck up in this role– but I will absolutely promise that if I do, I will make it right, and I will do everything in my power to prevent such fuckups from occurring in the first place.
I encourage you or anyone else to contact me if you have further questions; I can be reached through the contact forms on my personal Carrds– both linked on This Simple Feeling's staff bio on the Carrd– or alternatively you can request my Discord handle via DM on This Simple Feeling’s Tumblr or Twitter.
- Mod Dogfeathers/42/booleanWildcard/NAB
* I write fanfiction under the name booleanWildcard, and I am known socially as 42 or */asterisk. I post drawings as Dogmachine. I sign my visual work as NAB, my initials.
* We are using Microsoft Access instead of Excel, because Access is more flexible and comprehensive with its ability to cross-reference multiple fields. We will use it to generate reports for release, including possibly ones that can be plugged into Excel/Google Sheets
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eremiss · 4 years
Text
Nameday
Given how Gwen wasn’t generally inclined to share much about herself, it came as no surprise that it took the Scions quite a while --far too long, truth be told-- to realize none of them had any idea when her nameday was.
It also came as no surprise that she didn’t actually answer when asked. “Oh, not for a while yet.”
And so it was that her first nameday in their company came and went unacknowledged.
The second did as well, though that arguably had more to do with the consequences of Lolorito’s schemes and Ilberd’s betrayal than the Scions’ thoughtlessness.
The Fortemps, however, proved more stubborn than the Scions when it came to weaseling out information. Twelve know Emmanellain could wear anyone down if he was in their company long enough.
Or perhaps they were just better friends to her than the Scions had been.
Thancred bristles when he thinks about it, aggravation, jealousy and more than a little guilt clanging around in his head. 
Even Alphinaud knows, for Twelve’s sakes.
He tries to ignore those less-than-just feelings by focusing on the upside: Emmanellain can’t shut his mouth to save his life, and it was easy to steer him into telling Thancred what he wanted to know while the nobleman remained oblivious.
Gwen’s nameday is the 26th Sun of the third Umbral Moon. 
 ---
The door finally opens. Thancred tries to look particularly casual leaning against Gwen's desk, snuffing out the last of the annoyance that has been prickling across his shoulders ever since he received word the courier would be late. They’d made it, thank the Twelve, but only barely.
Gwen pauses in the doorway, the surprise on her face quickly morphing into amusement. She drawls, “I don’t recall giving you a key to my room.”
He replies with a puckish grin. “You didn’t.”
“Hm.” She gives him a playfully dubious look as she shuts the door, And yet here you are.
He spreads his hands and shrugs. “I have my methods.”
Gwen huffs a laugh and heads for her wardrobe. “And reasons, I presume?”
Thancred could assert that he always has a reason of one form or another, but decides to stick to his initial plan. “Do you know what day it is?” 
She pauses, blinking at the handles on her wardrobe for a moment before tugging the doors open. “The 26th, I think. Why?”
“Indeed.” He puts a teasing lilt to his tone that suggests he knows something she doesn’t, “But do you know what day it is?”
Gwen is shrugging out of her coat and armor, trading them for lighter loungewear that’s better suited for a muggy afternoon of paperwork. “Ah… Firesday?” she says guilelessly.
His grin flattens slightly, his hopes to build some anticipation falling utterly flat. Given how she always dodged around questions about her nameday in the past, he probably should have expected this sort of insouciance. 
He pushes himself off the desk and ambles to the wardrobe, tugging the little box out of his pocket and wincing internally when the contents shift. He might need to have a few words with that curmudgeonus goldsmith about taking more care packaging his products. 
“What? Did I forget something?” Gwen asks, clearly puzzled. She genuinely doesn’t seem to know what he’s trying to hint at.
There’s no way she could have actually forgotten her nameday, surely…
Unless the date she’d told the Fortemps was merely to appease them so they’d leave her be? Thancred hadn’t considered that option, and the idea gets discomfort worming into the back of his mind. He'd confirmed the date with Tataru, but she'd apparently learned it from them, too.
“T’would appear so,” Thancred replies without the slightest hint of doubt. 
Gwen turns towards him, only half-changed, and before she can speak he offers a plain-looking box that’s small enough enough to fit in his palm. 
She pauses, a complication of emotions flickering across her face.
Surprise first. Then happiness that’s slanted with curiosity, her eyes flicking up to his and then back to the proffered box. 
He hopes she doesn’t mind the lack of wrapping or adornment, as he hadn't had time for either thanks to the delay in delivery. That’s what he gets for deciding to go with a goldsmith all the way in Ul’dah despite being so last-minute.
A puzzled wrinkle forms between her brows as she continues to glance between his face and the box, trying to make sense of the look on he’s giving her that says she ought to know what this is about. 
Her eyes suddenly light up with comprehension, her lips parting in a silent ‘oh’ as a fresh wave of surprise washes across her face.
That momentary doubt about the date vanishes beneath a swell of smug satisfaction that has him grinning like the cat that caught the canary.
Gwen’s expression melts into something warm and soft, lips curving with a small, shy smile. Her brows are still tugged thoughtfully together, eyes bright and curious as she curls her fingers into her hair. Her lips shape a few words she doesn’t quite manage to say until, eventually, she lets out a small, astonished laugh.
She asks, utterly baffled, “But how did you…?”
Thancred leans closer and asks teasingly, “What day is it, dove?”
Gwen glances aside, smile quirking bashfully and face darkening with embarrassment at having forgotten such an obvious thing. “It’s, ah, my nameday.”
He offers the box again, shamelessly pleased. “For a moment I was worried you’d forgotten.” 
Gwen huffs defensively at him, even as her tickled little smile refuses to leave her mouth. “How did you know?” 
“Tataru,” he replies simply. And the Fortemps, he doesn’t add.
She hums and nods, attention drifting back to the box. Her eyes trace the shape of it, eager and curious about what could be inside. Then her gaze lifts to his face again, searching. Either she’s unsure if she’s allowed to take it now, or she’s trying to judge if he plans to tease her with a bit of keepaway.
He’d been leaning towards the latter, truthfully, but she looks so excited…
Thancred waggles his hand, “Go on, it won’t bite.”
She rolls her eyes theatrically and accepts the gift with the utmost care, holding it delicately like the little box itself is precious. Her expression bends with something deeply tender and grateful, and she murmurs, “You didn’t need to get me anything…”
“I wanted to,” he replies, letting a smidge of honesty touch his tone. 
Gwen’s eyes sparkle, wrinkling at the corners when favors him with a sweet, adoring smile he can’t possibly deserve. A light, fond thing blooms in his chest that makes him feel a fulm taller and a bit lightheaded. He smiles back somewhat awkwardly. 
Her attention returns the box and she turns it over in her fingers, inspecting and pondering. She’s handling it so daintily, like the flimsy cardboard is as valuable as the contents. “What is it?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Thancred replies matter-of-factly, getting his footing again. He wonders, not for the first time, how long it’s been since anyone –even Gwen– had so much as acknowledged her nameday.
He gestures at it and prompts, “The gift is inside the box, you know.”
The way she pouts at him can’t quite disguise her relief at being given such explicit permission, hesitance visibly oozing out of her.
Anticipation tightens across his shoulders as she tugs at the lid, doubt suddenly wrinkling his confidence. He may or may not hold his breath when she finally gets it open.
Gwen lights up like the sun, delighted.
It’s a struggle to not let out an explosive sigh of relief.
Thancred watches her unconsciously reach up to tug at her bare earlobe, as if only just remembering she’s been without her earrings for weeks. She’d lost one some time back and removed the other for the sake of symmetry, but she’s never had the chance to replace them. 
In a way he’s grateful, as otherwise he would have had a much harder time figuring out what to get her.
Gwen’s smile is small, almost private, but it’s so heartfelt it makes his knees weak and his heart skip. She runs her fingers over the golden hoops and murmurs, “Thank you,” so sincerely it nearly drives him to fidget.
He’d been prepared for happiness and gratitude, but not for her to be so sweetly, genuinely touched. Not that that’s a bad thing, just… the way she’s looking at him is... He isn’t accustomed to this sort of soft, open adoration, even from her, and he doesn’t know how to react. He’s off-balance in away he’s not used to, and he’s not sure how to feel about it. 
Thancred covers his floundering thoughts with a corny bow. It earns him both a fondly exasperated laugh and a moment to get his head in order.
As he straightens up he asks, just to be sure, “I take it you like them?”
“I–? Yes!” Gwen replies immediately, still beaming. “Yes, they’re wonderful. I…” She tilts her head towards her bathroom hopefully, asking a question with her expression. 
He shoos her away with a flick of his wrist. 
She scurries off, disappearing to thread the hoops through her ears in the mirror. He uses the time to shake his head and compose himself again, taking a calming breath and clearing out all the disorienting fluff. 
It’s heartening, truly, to see her so very tickled and happy. But at the same time he can’t help realizing just how unaccustomed she is to being shown such thoughtfulness.
Gwen returns, still wearing that elated little smile and positively glowing, lightly tugging at her new earrings as if assuring herself they’re real and at no risk of falling out. The gold hoops aren’t ornate or flashy, but they’re finely crafted and just the sort of clean, simple design she favors. There's something particularly satisfying about seeing her wear earrings again, and he realizes that these last few weeks have been the only time he's ever seen her without that particular accessory.
Thancred welcomes her embrace, his thoughts threatening to turn fuzzy again when she presses her smile to his and murmurs, “Thank you,” against his lips.
On a whim, just for a moment, he lets himself get lost and indulge in her wonderful giddiness and affection, reveling in the satisfaction of being the cause.
She’s still grinning by the time they part, guiding him down to rest his forehead against hers and swaying lightly from side to side. Always fidgety, he thinks fondly, swaying with her and trying not to grin like fool himself. Her lifted mood is proving rather contagious.
He holds her a little tighter and murmurs, “Happy nameday, dove.”
---------------------------------
Happy nameday Gweeeeeen <3 <3
I was on the strugglebus for this for suuuure but I like how it came out lol I was determined to get this posted today.
I forgot I made the intro so fuckin’ angsty lmao
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