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trashbins-stuff · 6 months

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Hello. I have seen that you have been tagged by @neobixiscool on one of their posts. I am planning to make a rant post on them. If you can provide some background info and your side of the story, that would be great. If you feel uncomfortable discussing this, that's ok. Have a good day/evening.

rub hands together like flies. my time has come/silly 😋😋

and thank you for coming to me :3 i appreciate it/gen also i get to go all cabby on this hehe

oh and, im not really hurt-hurted by them, i feel like mocha (mochablogger), liam (moonmxple) and mac (blairdrawzstuff) are most affected. They did have a book with my character in it but in a different universe or something (without my consent nor credit btw). Anyway under the cut is my observant. Honestly i think i might have jsut make the rant post for you lmao hrgbnhe 😭😭

the background/before:

mocha was working on a little story and xe said we could be in it! so obviously me and my friends signed up for the fun, not really expecting anything, the story was called "The Traumatized Cup", thats when we first meet him.

In one of the chapter mocha had introduced rubix, at first i didnt really think much about him, i was just aware of his presence, i do notice him and mocha started to become friends and i thought that was great :)

something that you should probably contact cuppy for more info:

so rubix (or according to rubix, "jasp" was roleplaying) and mocha were friends on facebook, and they roleplayed there i think, this i just know but apparently he said crap about liam (mocha's platonic partner and my best friend). Mocha is very sensitive and even in roleplay xe's still uncomfortable with what rubix said

"bezel's" divorce headcanon (and possible influence on further problems):

i heard people talked about it but never knew where it came from, but thne i found out and,,

tdlr; 1st one is about mocha and rubix, i dont know if mocha consent to it. 2nd one is uh a bit weird i i guess like he could have ask facemoji to make another one ;-;. 3rd ah yes the divorce that i had heard about!/vneg

rubix said bezel forced him into making the 1st one, even if thats true, rubix said the divorce was bezel's headcanon but hes the one that decided to post the 3rd one ("okay i asked facemoji again..")

seem kinda sus not gonna lie..but what do i nose right :-)

bezel probably influence more but even after all these months im still not sure if he really did do those things, idk lul, it is pretty weird that bezel's blog was a sideblog though (liam told me)

heres a bunch of words with link attach, those r my opinions lmao:

these u can just click to read so i hope thats okay

on wattpad he have a book in which he painted mocha, hazel and blair as manipulative (admittedly his writing was good, he could have used it for something different though)

he also uses some of our characters (such as mocha cuppy, hazel, blair, harp, blueberry, winter, bin (mine btw), seedling, galaxy journal,...etc) he did the delete that book tho, anyway heres more screenshot proof (credit @moonmxple )

mocha asked liam and neobix said its cringe

i remember this one also

the one where he tried to ban pet name and online dating (in 2023) (check the comment and other reblogs also theres alot, its practically a goldmine/silly)

and can i say he barely knows our friend group? like sure he knows mocha but hes trying to fit into our group (very poorly)

please read what cass wrote in the comment (thanks cass for speaking out about it ily)

the ask i sent him

NOT to get all bitchy here but mocha blocked you therefore you literally dont appear anywhere on xer dash, you're out of xer life and xe had no reason to pester you, not everything has to be about mocha. You guy's relationship (or supposedly lack there of) had change but honestly? thats okay they dont have to like the same people that they liked yesterday. You might think you know that's them but it wasnt, mocha in real life is kinder and better than the version inside of your head and they're happier now and its so sad that you cant see (because you're blocked)

and again, not everything has to be about YOU

he also made it all about HIM like excuse me ???? can i not complain for little bit without you coming in and nag about your problem ??? if you're suffering go talk to someone dont talk to online strangers ??? :)))???????

bro cant even read a long paragraph post like go back to elementary school lmao, also reporting ppl just because they use their right to not forgive you is such a sore loser move, it make you sound like petty six year old (also max be spitting facts tho)

bro brought out HIS right (reporting mocha, which he actually cant do if he doesnt have a valid reason) while ignore MOCHA's right (not forgiving him, which isnt a valid reason for him to report xem). The definition of petty is literally complain way too much about unimportant things that could have and should have ended already

"you dont have to relate to everything you see on the internet, somethings are simply not about you" :)

did you know that to report someone you have to click alot of buttons??

common salad W <3333

oh yeah, this doesnt have links but jasp/neobix is being so casual abt bezel's death but also uses it as a way to make people feel bad for getting upset with what he did

Sorry for playing the dickhead role, but you wouldn't be laughing if you knew how we felt about every single one of you. (why it sound serious all the sudden lol)

why i still doubt (uh and heads up, galaxy brush, kodu, cuppy,..others who think @/rubixisanidi0t was saying the truth, im not saying he isnt but you cant blame me for not trusting can you? please skip this part if you're sensitive):

naw so if this was suppose to be jasp then whats jasp motive lmao :/..he dont gain anything from this + who tell people their secret plan publicly?? + how did jasp know about rubixs hallucination?? rubix please dont tell such personal things to jsut your friends and please just talk to an adult in real life. And jasp, dont let these kind of things on the internet its not safe/srs

this is just straight up weird and also why did neobix/jasp said "old friend" like hes rubix?? when he supposedly told rubix and i quote "yeah.. Soo.... This person named @/mochablogger seemed like some cool person, and when I tried to talk with them... Nothing happened, so when I figured they didn't care... It all happened at once." neobix/jasp and mocha werent even friend to begin with why was he SO obssess over getting mochas forgiveness when they supposedly barely interact much??

aint it a bit weird how this is supposedly jasp/neobix but why would they make this video??? it???doesnt make any sense?? and like were rubix and jasp still good friend??? why wood bezel make jasp of all people do it??? unless yk

HOL UP, WAIT A MINUTE..if rose jelly dated rubix but rubix tunred out to be jasp then..WHO IS ROSE JELLY ACTUALLY DATING??????

if @/neobixiscool is suppose to be jasp then how did he get a screenshot for a show rubix was making???

i translated it and head up. it has death threat in it

you know, if someone stole my account and ruin my reputation i wouldnt be following them and be mutuals with them :)

i appreciate him saying hell save us but like..why would @/neobixiscool linked the real rubix's yt and discord knowing full well that the real rubix was there and could told joiners the truth??? that seem kinda dumb ngl also on the channel you can find a video called "waitng for forgiveness" which @/neobixiscool had talked about. and lets do a bit of timing here, if rubix really was telling the truth and havent been on social media since his alst post on @/rubixcuix (last posted in august) and the divorce arc and the roleplay thing and EVERYTHING had started in september, and if the yt belonged to rubix, then he shouldnt have known that mocha didnt forgive him and make that video????? bc he wasnt suppose to be there since august??? bc if anything he shouldnt be waiting for forgiveness bc if jasp really did steal his tumblr account then its not his fault?? like i find it absoltuely HILARIOUS that the evidence agaisnt what rubix said was on both the account @/neobixiscool AND @/rubixisanidi0t's PINNED post?? and it boggles my mind how no one talks abt this???/lh/nm i mean its quite obvious maybe im jsut really observant though idk

if you got your account stolen and jasp supposedly brought back a wattpad book, i dont think you should be continuing it?? and didnt you said your reported him on wattpad?? on the same account where the book is?? why are you acting like "yes i did promise them this and im fully aware of what happen even though i supposedly havent been here since august and i will continue this book" has it hit you?

uh yeah so these are just my silly little takes, but hey! what do i nose? :-)

#drama #my take on the drama is very fun hehe :) i had fun writing this #anyway thanks for reading my thoughts lul hope you have a great dayyyy <3

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gooogigi · 8 days

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may twenty second, two thousand and four

Under the Skin (dir. Johnathan Glazer, D.P. Daniel Landin), 2013

my brain is incapable of many processes. one of which being an ability to share emotions as i feel them. was recently informed by my coworker that this might mean i have a "disorganized" attachement style? to me, it just seems like i learned to move through the world by means of suppression, otherwise known as being an adult.

regardless of my emotional aptitude, i seem to be reaching a simmering point. Not destructive boiling, but my pysche blows steams and softly bubbles, with no real end to the slow accumulation of psyichic heat in sight.

in short, im fucking depressed. not as a feeling but as a state. it's a state ive lived with for a while. I thought it was normal to not want to get up in the morning. i think it is, only for things you don't want to do, not an every day thing. my mind, afraid of what stopping might mean, runs a self-fueling engine of thought and emotional viscera. it is so hard to sleep, and it has been hard for years. my mother, god bless her, haunted by the same phantom-psyche that follows her every waking moment.

im returning to this site for a couple for reasons: one, the nostalgia of sharing with the world in this way, anonymous yet unflinching. without a care of what will happen to these thoughts once i post. it is also an exercise in attempting to put words to feelings as they appear. lastly, this site is pretty dead. My friends never use this. I'm journaling in an internet graveyard, and it feels nice to be back here. to remember the person i was when i was figuring myslef out at 16.

i am sorry to report that, at 28, i am still figuring myself out. i fear i never will. i guess i should explore what figuring myself out means. at times i think i'm engaging in a form of self-stockholm: holding myself hostage to ideas of what life should look like, and falling in love with the fallacy of fulfilling this prophecy. i met adam at my orgy situation, and he said he was a porn producer. he pays his own rent (allegedly) to live in the same neighborhood i was graced by the city of new york to be able to afford. what's stopping me from directing some porn, and maybe doing the same? It's obvious the film and art world do not view me seriously, and would rather wait until i'm one foot in the grave until any contribution is taken seriously. and it's not that i feel as if ive made any major contribution to the aforementioned fields, but just that the side glances, the uninterested smiles, the "yeah lets meet sometimes", the "we're sorry to inform you's" they each hurt a little, and in this short life i have accumulated so much rejection it should be astounding i've found a way to give my life any meaning at all.

so how does my life have any meaning, and in turn, have any reason worth living? well, for starters, the yes's ive received, have been enough, i guess. In the past four years ive lived astounding emotional lows, almost at post-australia levels. i have been able toi come up for air because of the forces outside of myself that make life better, nto worse: i got an apartment i can afford in a nice neighborhood, i have a residency, I have an exhibition here and there, i have a job. i don't have friends in my vicinity, and at times ostracize myself form them, but the times i do manage to be with other people has been nice. but in recent moments these yeses have exhibited precarity: theres ways for my building to remove my stabilized rate, my job has had a slow season and it's clear i am first on the chopping block, i have a studio im too tired to use, and no opportunities to at least force me to work.

also, i miss my emotionally irregulated ex. more on this later im sure.

I could probably live better if i just let go of any idea of what i thought life would be, but my idea of what life could be is what saved me the first time. but i think im running myself into the ground trying to be someone i cant. I can only do the best with the life that has been presented to me. i cant tell if this makes life more or less worth living.

#journal #transgender

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mitigatedchaos · 3 years

Text

On Having “Whiteness”

(~2,200 words, 11 minutes)

Summary: A metaphysics of “Whiteness” has overtaken actual sociology in the Democrats’ popular consciousness - blinding them to racial interventions that might actually work and taking them off the table of political discussion.

-★★★-

Donald Moss - On Having Whiteness, Journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association (emphasis mine)

Whiteness is a condition one first acquires and then one has—a malignant, parasitic-like condition to which “white” people have a particular susceptibility. The condition is foundational, generating characteristic ways of being in one’s body, in one’s mind, and in one’s world. Parasitic Whiteness renders its hosts’ appetites voracious, insatiable, and perverse. These deformed appetites particularly target nonwhite peoples. Once established, these appetites are nearly impossible to eliminate. Effective treatment consists of a combination of psychic and social-historical interventions. Such interventions can reasonably aim only to reshape Whiteness’s infiltrated appetites—to reduce their intensity, redistribute their aims, and occasionally turn those aims toward the work of reparation. When remembered and represented, the ravages wreaked by the chronic condition can function either as warning (“never again”) or as temptation (“great again”). Memorialization alone, therefore, is no guarantee against regression. There is not yet a permanent cure.

So both @arcticdementor [here] and @samueldays have linked me to this allegedly “peer-reviewed” article. The Federalist has a bit more context, but it doesn’t really make the situation better.

Race Theory Problems

Obviously, this is a work of sloppy thinking. The categorization of “white supremacy culture” or “whiteness” used by people like this is vague handwaving that describes being bad at management as “white supremacy culture,” and which in general labels universal human problems, like organizations being resource-constrained, or people being impatient, as somehow uniquely “white.”

But this sort of article is really what I mean when I say that social justice’s approach to “whiteness” is about “spiritual contamination.”

Samueldays called it “the ‘I’m not touching you’ of inciting race war,” and I may cover more of his response to it later. Suffice it to say, it has the same general kind of problems as “stolen land” arguments (where an entire present population’s living area becomes undefined), unbounded “reparations” arguments where no amount of transfers by the designated oppressor are considered to clear the debt, and so on.

This is exactly the sort of material that conservatives are seeking to remove government funding for and prohibit from use in employment training. This is the kind of material that the Trump Anti-CRT executive order prohibiting racial scapegoating was meant to cover.

Race Theory Definitions

This kind of stuff is, of course, not really defensible, so usually at this point people will argue that 1), “that’s not real critical race theory,” and then 2), “it’s just a few weirdos.” For those, I would say...

1) If it’s not real “Critical Race Theory,” then what is it?

We can’t measure or disprove Moss’s proposed “Whiteness,” and this malevolent psychic entity said to “deform” white people obviously isn’t based on a comparison with other human populations or historical periods. When it comes to “insatiable” appetites, one study argued that the Mongol invasions killed so many people that it showed up in the carbon record.

At best, it’s sloppy race science as practiced by an amateur, like twitter users idly speculating whether whites have ‘oppressor epigenetics’ - but with the veneer of official status. And it has similar risks to proposing that there is such a thing as biologically-inherited class enemy status, and other collective intergenerational justice logic.

Presumably, the Journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association is intended as a journal of science, or at least serious scholarship, and not of bad racist poetry with no rhyme or meter.

Moss provides a relatively pure example of whatever-this-is. I need to know what it’s called, so we can get rid of it.

Race Theory Prohibitions

2) If it’s just the product of a few race-obssessed weirdos, then it won’t hurt to get rid of it. So get rid of it.

The actual text [PDF] of the Trump Anti-CRT order does not ban teaching about the Trail of Tears, or Jim Crow, and so on, and both of those topics were taught in school before this recent wave of whatever-this-is was popularized.

Trump’s order banned teaching that any race is inherently guilty or evil due to the actions of their ancestors, and the level of resistance to this has been bizarre.

These teachings don’t seem to provide gains in relatively objective metrics like underrepresented minority test scores (or at least that’s not something I’ve seen - and the continued opposition to standardized tests suggests proponents do not expect it to), so it’s unclear just what of value is going to be lost here.

Collateral Damage

Samueldays wrote,

Because right now the conservatives talking about "critical race theory" as they fire in the direction of Moss et al. are very important in preventing another race war and you have a moral duty to help them aim, not throw smoke for Moss.

Right now Conservatives are assessing just how much stuff they’re going to have to rip out to make “standardized tests are racist” and “it’s impossible to be racist to white people” stop. While this may not be the message that Liberals are intending to send, it is the message that many people are receiving. (I discuss problems with both, and some alternatives to handle them better, in another post.)

Liberals need to get out in front of this. Sooner is better.

If Conservatives think that they have to gut hostile work environment law in order to avoid their children being taught that they’re permanently morally contaminated by their race, and Liberals have no means to actually close race gaps within a 4-8 year period (and right now it’s slim pickings on that front), Conservatives are just going to gut hostile work environment law.

Aether

From their perspective, why not?

Everything in the world is only six degrees of separation from something racist. Anything in the world can be tied to something racist. (So can anyone.)

But nowhere in this pervasive atmosphere of tying things to racism are there solutions. There are guesses based on correlations. Proposals. But usually when you reach out to grab them, to really get a grip on whether it’s correlation or causation, they dissolve in your hands. The few that do have any solidity to them are moderate in their success (such as Heckman’s involvement in the Reach Up & Learn study in Jamaica) - and don’t appear to be based on the same style of thinking as shown by Moss and others.

It isn’t just that trying to turn combating an invisible, non-measurable, unfalsifiable, parasitic psychic force into an actual political program would inevitably be oppressive and totalitarian. It isn’t just that articles like Moss’s are an in-kind donation to the 2024 DeSantis Presidential campaign for that very reason.

It isn’t just that unfalsifiable Metaphysics of Whiteness content like White Privilege Theory has been found to lower sympathy for the poor, and that present diversity training doesn’t work...

Race Content Crowding

This stuff is crowding out legitimate scholarship. I don’t just mean in terms of funding, tenure track positions, or high-flying magazine coverage - all limited by their nature. I mean among the base. I have been interrogating Democrats on Twitter for months, and not a single one has been able to cite a strongly-demonstrated intervention that’s being held back, or even a past one that was conclusively demonstrated to be effective. They can often recite a list of racial grievances on cue.

Tucker Carlson could run boomer_update.exe on a list of every educational failure since the 1970s, and they would be reduced to sputtering accusations of racism against people who increasingly don’t care. He could do this tomorrow. The only thing that prevents this is Tucker Carlson’s conscience.

I discovered the Reach Up & Learn program through Glenn Loury - described as a ‘conservative.’ Scott Alexander, attacked by the New York Times crew, brought some success with multivitamins to my attention. When I first heard about the Perry Preschool program, I believe it was from someone well to the right of him.

About the only one brought to my attention by the Democratic establishment constellation proper was lead removal, and the gains on that are probably getting tapped out. The frame it was proposed in was not Critical Race Theorist, as this was likely in 2012.

As it stands, I’m more likely to find something that works from someone the New York Times would disapprove of than someone they wouldn’t. Or, as Wesley Yang wrote,

Reality has been contrarian for a while.

Succeed Early

Even if we suppose that Conservatives are inherently racist, Liberals have a duty to support interventions that work. In fact, the more that Conservatives are a seething, undifferentiated mass of uniform racial hatred, the more important it is that Liberals stick to racial interventions that work, because nobody else is going to fix the problem if Liberals get it wrong.

It isn’t just a matter of resources per year. It’s also a matter of time.

From Heckman’s website,

Although Perry did not produce long-run gains in IQ, it did create lasting improvements in character skills [...] which consequently improved a number of labor market outcomes and health behaviors as well as reduced criminal activity.

Even if we propose an unlimited amount of funding (which is not the case), people and politicians only have a limited amount of time and attention each year. Newspapers only publish so many issues with so many pages each week. Television programs only cover so many hours for so many viewers each day. Even the dedicated can only read so many books in a year.

Even though the Perry intervention was imperfect, and the sample size was not as large as desirable, every second Democrat I talked to should have been able to answer the question “can you name an effective intervention?” with “what about Perry Preschool?”

Every year that we have entire cottage industries working on and popularizing contentious, ineffective, and backlash-provoking Metaphysics of Whiteness content, based on oversimplified oppressor/oppressed binaries, or theories in which power is held collectively by races as monolithic blobs (rather than modelling power as a network of relations between individuals, in which an individual of any background might be destroyed by the racialized relations in their environment), is another year we haven’t spent that energy on finding or implementing something that actually works.

This isn’t just an individual failure by Democrat voters, who typically have day jobs to focus on - it is a failure by the institutions who are supposed to inform and guide them. This institutional failure likely contributed to the popularization of Metaphysics of Whiteness content in the first place.

Okay, now what?

Donald Moss is a crackpot. Metaphysics of Whiteness content is unfalsifiable. The idea that there is a psychic parasite of “Whiteness” is not a legitimate field of study; it’s parasociology. The idea that “a sense of urgency” is “white supremacy culture” isn’t much better. [1]

We already tried isolating this content to obscure corners of academia, where individuals with high racial attachment could write about it. It leaked out.

We need to get this stuff out of the popular consciousness to make room for stuff that might actually work. The best way to do that may be to cut off the source. Since Donald Moss is a crackpot, perhaps it’s time we started treating him, and everyone else like him, as what they are.

People involved in Metaphysics of Whiteness content, like Donald Moss, need to be (figuratively) grabbed by the shoulder, and firmly, but politely, told to stop. Society has been recklessly handing out race-colored glasses to the general population since around 2014, resulting in a rise in amateur race science, of which both right-wing Twitter users memeing about Italians and Metaphysics of Whiteness participants like Moss are examples. If they do not stop, they must be stripped of institutional authority. Metaphysics of Whiteness content is unfalsifiable and we should not be certifying it.

If institutions refuse to reduce the authority of Metaphysics of Whiteness practitioners, those institutions must have their accreditation penalized, and their government funding reduced or eliminated, just as if they insisted on producing study after study on magic or ESP which failed to yield results. If they do not comply, they must be replaced.

It’s possible that Metaphysics of Whiteness content might have had some obscure, niche function in terms of the exploration of the idea space.

However, as it has displaced popular knowledge of interventions that might work, and the attention given to them in the political system, Liberals should seek to surgically remove it, at the very least until some more effective interventions see the political light of day.

If not, Conservatives will attempt to remove it with a bludgeon. "They described an entire race as ‘voracious, insatiable, and perverse,’ and here’s the citation for the exact page where they did that,” is perfect material with which to abolish entire departments.

-★★★-

[1] If we go a bit farther out, scholars of “Decolonization” argue that the field is wholly unconcerned with “settler futurity,” a phrase not much less ominous than describing “whiteness” as “incurable.” It seems that their entire job should be to answer the very difficult questions they have decided not to.

#racepol #american racepol #critical race theory #social justice #racial justice #longpost #flagpost #black lives matter

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mouse-fantoms · 3 years

Text

Reach For My Hand, ‘Cause It’s Held Out For You

Read on Ao3!

Tagging (just who I thought would be interested from the post this spawned from): @tmp-jatp @lydias--stiles @1neverendingstories1

More Than A Band but Jatp edition

A top priority when having 90's boys come into your life is of course showing them what they missed out on. It started with Julie putting together a playlist for them.

Another order would be teaching them the terms nowadays. Someone hadto tell Alex that you don’t say ‘periodt’ at the end of every sentence. That though, was a priority for another day.

After showing them music they missed out on, movies were next. It made sense since some of the music she had put on the playlist were songs from movies. She obviously couldn’t show all the movies they missed in the past 25 years, but there were a few that they’d probably like.

Their weekends, so far, had involved Julie setting up the living room for the perfect movie watching experience. A few pillows here and there on the comfy couch, could never go wrong with blankets, a fresh buttery bowl of popcorn, just the essentials.

They were all on the couch, finishing up the rest of Camp Rock. (Luke was immediately hooked on the summer camp with music concept.)

Julie was curled up with a blanket at the end of the couch. Luke was next to her, then Alex followed by Reggie.

“You seriously don’t want a blanket?” Julie asked Luke. She had her knees pulled to her underneath the fabric of warmth.

“I’m telling you I’m not cold.” He repeated another time.

She would have thought it might have just been a ghost thing if it wasn’t for Reggie and Alex constantly tugging at the blanket they shared for blanket space.

“I need it more!” Alex pulled the blanket towards him.

“You have a hoodie on!” Reggie pointed out.

“...I still get cold.”

Julie and Luke rolled their eyes at the pair and were instead more interested at how Mitchie was going to do at the Final Jam.

“Wait, she's singing that song? Wait!” Luke scooted to the edge of the seat, being glued to the tv. “Please tell me he has to recognize it’s her who sang in the beginning. She’s the one!”

Alex put a hand on Luke’s shoulder and pulled him back to the couch.

“I’m sure he will buddy.”

It wasn’t until after the number that Luke noticed Julie dozing off next to him. She’d shake awake a few times when she’d hear the high notes in the music.

“You know we can call it a night if you’re getting tired.”

Her arms came out from under the blanket when she stretched her arms and yawned, “No, no, no, I’m not. I haven’t even shown you guys a favorite of mine yet and I said we’d get to it tonight.”

Once the movie finished she grabbed the remote and went to find one of her favorites.

“This one,” she was interrupted by her own yawn, “is about a band. They form when they’re all in detention together.” A look played on Luke’s face. She sighed, not wanting to be right with an assumption, “...Is that how you guys-”

“No but could you imagine how-” Luke turned to the unamused faces of Alex and Reggie.

“It was always us getting him out of detention.” Alex informed.

She opened her mouth looking to the one in question. “What would you do?”

“He could never put away his journal during class.” Reggie answered.

“It was better than writing on the corners of my papers.”

“How would you get him out of it?”

“Well if the book wasn’t at the teacher’s desk anymore than… no evidence for detention.” Luke summed up.

“Which meant a lot of talking to the teacher while they got it back. ‘Alex, we want you to talk to her.’ ‘Pretend you have a question.’”

“The other option was you guys joining me.”

“Yeah we tried that, they never could give it to Reggie.”

Julie looked curious at the black haired ghost. “Why?”

Alex answered, gesturing to him. “...It’s Reggie.”

“Yeah, can’t argue there.”

She turned her attention back to the tv and brought up the movie.

“Lemonade Mouth? What kind of name is that?” Judged Luke.

Julie laughed to make it even. “What kind of name is Sunset Curve?”

“The kind of one you don’t come up with.” Reggie informed.

“When we were starting out,” the guitarist took the lead in explaining, “we’d play at this street corner. I guess people started liking us and would say to check out the guys at the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Curve Street. Then it just kinda meshed into one with people calling us Sunset Curve.”

“We kind of just went with it.” Alex shrugged.

“Funny, well, you’ll see why they’re called Lemonade Mouth in this.”

She put the movie on and the boys seemed instantly intrigued. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes in that her eyes started to feel drowsy. Maybe Luke was a little bit right, but maybe if she just rested her eyes for a second she’d feel better. Maybe if she just made herself comfortable on the pillow to her right, she’d feel better.

“Luke, can you turn it up a-”

“Can’t.”

“What?” Alex looked at him.

“Can’t move.” He repeated, shifting his eyes to the left.

Alex looked behind Luke to try to see if he could see what he was talking about. He saw Julie’s head closer to Luke. Sure enough, when he looked past him he saw Julie with her head on his shoulder.

“Hgh,” the blonde huffed, “fine I’ll get it.” There was no point in arguing so he instead went out of his way to reach diagonal to grab the remote that was on the coffee table.

It wasn’t tell near the ending of the movie when they eventually dozed off too. However they did catch great songs before they did. Classics such as Turn Up the Music, Determinate, Somebody and a song called More Than a Band, She’s So Gone were a few they caught before they went off to dreams.

~~~

She tried her best to not worry her boys. When she tried though, all they did was.

They knew something was off when she didn’t stop by to tell them bye before she left for school. Also when Luke paid her a visit during school she just seemed detached. Reggie noted Ray seemed off and Carlos for that matter too.

The ghost was hanging around with Ray in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for Carlos before he left for the morning. Reggie leaned against the archway to the dining room, watching Ray as he cooked scrambled eggs on the stove. Carlos came down the stairs, his bag slung over his shoulder, and came around to the stool of the counter.

“Do you know what we’re having for dinner?”

Ray looked over his shoulder, as he dumped the pan of eggs on a plate, “You haven’t even had breakfast yet.” He chuckled, setting the plate in front of him and opening the drawer to give him a fork.

“I know but…” He trailed off, taking the fork that was put next to his plate, looking to his dad in hopes he got what he was meaning. From him touching the ring on his ring finger, he got the memo.

“...I can talk to your Tía about bringing something over for tonight.” There was a light nod of his head. Carlos shared the same nod as he dove into his eggs.

Meanwhile Reggie leaned at the archway, suddenly now understood.

~~~

She hadn’t talked to them much the whole day. The studio that turned into her home didn’t feel like much of one today. Just a reminder.

After dinner, she found herself going up to her room, changing into her pajamas and finding comfort on her bed. She sat crisscross, her hand drawn to the scripture necklace she wore. She didn’t appear to catch the familiar poof sound until she looked to the left from seeing something in the corner of her eye appear. She saw her boys, looking sympathetic.

It was like they were a reminder. The reminder that they were here but… she wasn’t.

Luke stepped cautious, taking a seat on the mattress at the foot of her bed. “...Guessing movie night is postponed tonight.” He tried to make conversation.

She answered by turning on her side away from him, her necklace still in her hand, not realizing her foot had accidently hit Luke in the thigh when she turned over. Usually it was a nice reminder when they touched, today though, was not one of those times.

Luke looked to his friends standing opposite of him. Their expressions looked the same as his, wanting a suggestion of what to do, he looked back to Julie.

She was rubbing her fingers across her necklace in the silence until there wasn’t any.

“I can’t pretend,” she was caught off guard by his singing and what it sounded like, “to know how you feel, but know that I’m here and know that I’m real.”

Real. That word got her to look through her curls at him. He looked at the other two to join in.

“Say what you want,” Alex sang, stepping towards her bed, “or don’t talk at all, I’m not gonna let you fall.” He knelt down to be eye level.

“Reach for my hand ‘cause it’s held out for you,” Reggie joined Alex in kneeling next to her bed, “my shoulders are small but you can cry on them too. Everything changes but one thing is true, understand.” He looked to Luke to take the part.

“We’ll always be more than a band.”

They weren’t just singing lyrics. Even when she turned over to face them, they carried on.

“You used to brave the world all on your own.” Alex continued.

“Now we won’t let you go.” Luke added.

“Go it alone.” Reggie followed.

“Be who you wanna be, always stand tall.” Luke leaned in a little towards her, smiling at the two words, remembering the song they finished writing together. She smiled back, not being able to help herself. “Not gonna let you fall.”

They sang together, looking and smiling as they did. “Reach for my hand cause it's held out for you. My shoulders are strong, but you can cry on them too. Everything changes but one thing is true, understand. We'll always be more than a band.” They looked to her to continue.

With a wide smile she followed, “I never knew you could take me so far.” The proud smiles on them were hard to miss. “I’ve always wanted to hope that you are the ones I need.”

They repeated the chorus together, harmonizing, voices blending beautifully. “But one thing is true, understand.”

“We’ll always be more than a band.” They dropped out to let Julie finish.

She couldn’t help but look at her boys, proud smiles plastered on them as she looked at each.

“I didn’t know you guys stayed up to watch that.” She found the words to say.

“You said it was a favorite of yours.” Reggie shrugged as if it was obvious.

“You can’t go wrong with a band.” Luke summed up.

“Also Luke couldn’t move so that’s another reason we stayed.”

She let out a light huff from Alex’s statement. She grabbed her necklace again, looked down at it then back to them.

“...Thank you guys. We’ll always be more than a band.” She dropped the necklace and opened her arms, inviting them.

They made a hug with two people kneeling on the floor, work. She might not have been there but she sent the boys to her daughter. Maybe a reminder wasn’t always bad to have. This would be a reminder that they were a family. Family first, band second.

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scabopolis · 3 years

Text

lv au week, day 2: super heroes

Title: superbloom Fandom: Veronica Mars Rating: PG-13 for content, R for swears (Veronica writes in her feelings journal and really lets those swears go) Pairing: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars Other Characters: Mentions of Mac and Meg Additional Tags: Secret identity (again?! what?), unnecessary epistolary literature (does a journal count as epistolary?), half-baked world building, a vague understanding of superhero lore Word Count: ~1,075 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

***

Again, written solely because @cubbiegirl and @marshmellowbobcat are earth angels. I even added a title this time so that MB doesn’t have to come up with one.

Why did I write this as Veronica’s journal? Mostly because it’s a style which seems to be a fanfic right of passage and I haven’t tried it so...here we are.

I probably owe a lot to other superhero universes and their world building (as in, referring to them as ‘supers’ ala The Incredibles). What are the full extent of Logan and Veronica’s powers? *shrug emoji*

***

Date: February 15 Tracked a low-level Kane agent to a tourist trap bistro in downtown San Diego. Place was packed. Is this the new thing? Shitty men forget to make Valentine’s Day reservations, so they make them for the day after?

Thought I had the guy but when I mistimed my pulse he metamorphosed into a cockroach and scurried away.

Best part of the night was the chocolate mousse I got to-go. Despite appearances within, the food wasn’t too bad.

Date: February 17 Caught up to Cockroach. Real name is Abel Koontz. Slimy guy tried to escape again, but Mac outfitted me with a souped up Morph Choke as backup — emphasis on the choke. Gonna need to recalibrate that a bit, Mackenzie.

Bonus! Forgot it was laundry day, so had to wear my backup uni. Next time I run into Meg out in the field I’ll have to ask her if she can see my underwear through it.

Date: February 18 Finally got around to watching season two of The Boys. Where do they get this shit?

If Piznarski brings up forming some sort of super team for the 7-millionth time at the summit this year, I’m siccing Clayton on him.

Date: February 21 Got into a fight with Mac. Technically my fault.

I faded while in public, and look, I get it.

Being detected while living as my alter would be bad. BUT!! Being forced to interact with my ex as he is on a date with a woman who legitimately looks like she could be my doppelganger is very bad.

Date: February 22 Clarified with Mac: me fading in public did not worry her. Me tripping Leo on purpose as I faded was apparently a problem.

Date: February 24 Cockroach stood me up.

Date: February 25 For all that is good and holy if another fucking cocky cowboy of a super moves to Neptune, I am going to lose my shit. This newest one? Got in my way as I attempted to track Kane, Jr into a warehouse. Fucking Smirky McCowboy stepped in my way and assured me I didn’t want to follow. Something about a dozen armed guards with guns aimed at the door. MAYBE THAT WAS MY PLAN!

(Because, of course the guy ripped a powers page right out of Superman’s book and has x-ray vision.)

(And, his uni? Not hard to tell when a super has money. They’re always the worst.)

Date: February 28 Ran into Smirky McCowboy again. This time outside of a poker game hosted by a real estate developer with connections to Kane. Smirky said it was a coincidence.

Still no sign of Cockroach.

Date: March 2 FUCKING HELL. He beat me to it. AGAIN! How is he doing this?

Date: March 4 Smirky’s name is apparently Logan. Which I learned because I was getting coffee at Willow Grove (just minding my business while covertly eavesdropping on previously mentioned real estate developer) when some guy sat at my table. Unprompted. Uninvited. UNWELCOME.

Mask or no mask, THAT SMIRK.

The more concerning thing is that his x-ray vision apparently sees through the skeletal enhancements Mac wired into my mask, meaning he ID’d me right away.

Date: March 5 Why do they keep coming here? Doesn’t New York have more crime? Go there!

Mac says it’s my fault for busting the Fitzpatricks, outing Kane as the sociopath he is, and helping all those kids find their lost dogs.

Okay, she only mentioned the first two, but I think the third has value.

The point is! these hangers-on need to find their own territory.

Date: March 6 Mac traced at least 70 arrests to Smirky in the Los Angeles area alone. I hate him.

Date: March 10 If he scoops another one of my cases…

Date: March 11 He calls me Supergirl.

He calls me Supergirl and I want to punch him.

Mac says Cockroach’s tracker is still active but the signal is being blocked.

Date: March 13 Saw Meg today. She took down her own parents. Fucking savage. God, I love her. She flew me up to American Plaza and we drank champagne to celebrate.

Oh! And good news! She says my backup uni isn’t see through.

Date: March 13 Woke up with this terrifying thought: can smirky see through my uni?

He wouldn’t...right? I mean...he’s an asshole but I don’t think he’s a creep.

Date: March 16 I punched him.

Not for the underwear thing! He swears he’s never looked and I weirdly believe him.

And I didn’t punch him as much as he walked into a pulse. Yes, fine.

I maybe purposefully put up the pulse to see if his x-ray vision could detect it. But I didn’t tell him to walk into it.

(He can’t detect it, btw. I did it a second time just to be sure.)

Date: March 18 Found Cockroach. Or, I guess I should say Koontz. He washed up on Dog Beach as his alter.

Mac said it could be a coincidence but we both know that’s not true.

Date: March 19 Did I do this? Did I get Cockroach killed?

Date: March 19 Logan has very good alcohol.

Date: March 20 Hangovers. Bad.

Date: March 20 Logan makes very good pancakes.

Date: March 21 Logan has seen me drunk, which means Logan must be destroyed.

Date: March 22 In a certain light, the smirk isn’t so bad.

Date: March 23 Oh god.

Date: March 24 Oh god.

Do I like him?

Date: March 25 I hate myself. I’m a giant cliché. I apologize to all women supers everywhere.

Logan swears he can’t see past the new enhancements Mac made to my uni.

He also asked me to dinner. Was tempted to 1) fade, and 2) run away, but I did neither.

Date: March 26 Adding insult to injury, Smirky McCowboy really knows how to kiss.

Date: March 27 Mac says I shouldn’t be so hard on myself.

Actually, what she said was that neither he nor I are all that pleasant to be around so we might be meant for each other.

Date: March 28 He really knows how to do some other things, too.

Date: March 29 Logan got me a present: surveillance footage of Kane’s mysterious second-in-command with Koontz the night before he was found.

He’s been upgraded to not the absolute worst.

Date: March 29 To be perfectly clear: we are not a super team.

Date: March 30 Logan and I are on surveillance detail tonight.

Maybe I can convince him to stop for some chocolate mousse.

#lvauweek2021 #vm fanfic #lv fanfic #logan x veronica #veronica mars #logan echolls #never stories #otp: the one person #p: logan x veronica #cubbiegirl #marshmellowbobcat #a title AND a read more?#she's learning!#by far the silliest thing I have ever written.#BY FAR

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heyyy-hey-babyyy · 3 years

Text

When We Were Young (Part XI)

Dean x Fem!Reader; Sam x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Read part I here ; Read part II here ; Read part III here ;

Read part IV here ; Read part V here ; Read part VI here ;

Read part VII here ; Read part VIII here ; Read part IX here ;

Read Part X here ;

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of trauma/abuse, brief moments of self-harm, mentions of anxiety attack, smut

**This chapter contains brief mentions of assault and moments of smut (they do not coincide). Please be aware if this is trigging for you!

B/N: I’m getting a little lost in my own timeline, so apologies for any inaccuracies... All mistakes I claim as my own. Also, this is probably going to be the last chapter of “When We Were Young.” School started up again, and I think I wrapped things up fairly nice here... Let me know what you think?

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Y/N grew up together, but when she’s taken away for over 10 years, the boys have no idea what she’s been through. Will asking her to move into the bunker with them reveal more than she’s ready for?

3163 words

“Y/N,” Dean whispered, coming into the room. You had your back to him, throwing your clothes into your duffle, not bothering to fold anything. As soon as you got to Sam’s room and shut the door, you changed out of your sleep shorts and Sam’s flannel, opting for leggings and a loose baseball tee with the Minnesota Twins logo on it. You smiled to yourself, remembering Bobby’s present for your birthday so many years ago. You dad had scoffed at the bright blue fabric, as you lifted it out of the box carefully, looking questioningly at Bobby who merely shrugged looking awkward. He always wanted you to have a normal life and you guessed that meant watching baseball, which you did, for years, with Bobby by your side.

You jumped slightly when Dean came in the room, not hearing the door open. He stopped a few feet away from you, but you didn’t turn to look at him, rather choosing to pull him lightly to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You pressed your ring lightly to his wrist, breathing out the breath you had been holding, and relaxed into his tight hold on you. It seemed backward in this moment, but you needed Dean to replace all of your Greg memories of the last two days. Though you didn’t feel completely comfortable in many situations, you felt comfortable with Dean’s arms around you. Dean sighed lowly kissing your collarbone lightly as you leaned into him.

“Y/N,” he began again. “You know that we’re safe here, we don’t have to leave.” You shook your head at his words. You weren’t safe here, if today was any indication. Greg already made you question Dean and Sam, what if he appeared as Bobby, or Castiel and took two of your other saviors away? Even worse, you had no idea the extent of his powers, what if he could appear as John or your own father? You didn’t think you could handle that, so you shook your head at Dean’s words.

“No, I want to go home.” Dean nodded and kissed you again, leaving the room and allowing you to get your stuff together.

Dean closed the door with a soft click, turning to his brother leaning against the wall just outside of the bedroom. When Dean emerged Sam stood up straight, concern etched across his brow.

“Is she okay?” He asked, worried that you were falling a part behind closed doors, not knowing who you could turn to, or who you could believe to be the real person. Sam felt guilty that the shifter used him to lure Y/N away from Dean, and he wasn’t sure that guilt was going to go away anytime soon.

Dean nodded his head in response. “Yeah, she just wants to go home.” Sam nodded back, understanding the want to return to the bunker. So much had happened here at Bobby’s, and Sam was sure Dean was beating himself up even more for letting Y/N convince him to allow her to come with. His brother may never admit it, but Sam knew he felt safer behind the bunkers steel door. Dean opened his mouth to speak again when the familiar flutter of wings cut him off. Cas appeared, standing uncomfortably close to Dean, and Sam covered his mouth with his hand, suppressing the laugh that bubbled up, seeing the angel look so serious, and Dean look so uncomfortable.

Dean’s back was against the wall, so with nowhere to go, he put a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Cas,” he began, looking seriously at the angel as if he were about to scold a small child. “We talked about this. Personal space?”

Cas nodded and took two big steps back. “My apologies.” Dean gestured for him to say what he needed to, knowing Cas didn’t just show up for his health.

“I followed the monster,” Cas began, clearing his throat. “He had returned to the place he was holding Y/N, but disappeared just as I was appearing behind him.” Dean’s look didn’t change, but Sam was going through every emotion, not knowing where to begin in tracking down this monster. Cas glanced between the two Winchesters, making sure he was clear to continue.

“He disappeared somewhere in California, when I lost his trail. I’m sorry, I couldn’t be more helpful.” Cas looked both angry and upset with himself, and Dean couldn’t help but smile slightly at the blue-eyed man, knowing he loved Y/N, even just meeting her, as much as Sam did. He looked deep into the angel’s eyes before speaking.

“You did what you could, Cas, And you saved Y/N, twice. She isn’t upset with you, and you shouldn’t be upset with yourself.” Cas nodded, and Sam stared confused at his brother’s sudden show of emotion. The entire situation was turning Dean more understanding and in tune with other’s emotions, and it gave Sam a bit of hope for both Dean and Y/N. Dean noticed his brother staring at him, and he narrowed his eyes, giving Sam a look only a brother could give, returning back to Cas. There’s the Dean I know, Sam thought to himself with a shake of his head and a small smile. All three men turned when the door behind them opened and Y/N emerged, looking exhausted. You walked swiftly to Dean’s side, laying your duffle at your feet.

Cas stepped forward, looking down at his own feet. “Y/N, I followed the monster, but I wasn’t able to give you the justice you deserve. I’m so sorry.” You saw tears behind the angel’s bright blue eyes, and you rushed forward, engulfing the man in a strong hug. Cas looked awkward, not sure what to do with his hands, before he wrapped them slowly behind you, returning the hug. You didn’t speak, but hoped your embrace reminded Castiel that he did more for you in the last two days than you ever expected. You released your hold, and looked around at your boys with a long sigh.

“I have to find Bobby.” Dean nodded, grabbing your duffel and heading outside to the Impala. “I’ll come with you” Sam nodded, not asking, and you understood why. Though you couldn’t help the image of what happened the last time you followed Sam blindly that bubbled to the surface. He seemed to sense your hesitation and held out his wrist for you, and you grasped it tightly, feeling your ring touch gently to his skin. When nothing happened, you nodded and headed downstairs, in search of your only remaining father figure.

You and Sam searched every room, but couldn’t find any sign of the eldest hunter. You huffed out a sigh, just wanting to be home, but not wanting to leave without saying goodbye. Sam waited for your guidance, and you shrugged your shoulders, moving to Bobby’s desk, and searching his drawers for a piece of paper. You found an old receipt, and scrawled a quick goodbye, leaving your phone number, telling him to call you as soon as he read the note. Sam patted you on the shoulder, and you walked out of your childhood home and into the sleek black car.

----------

Dean drove most of the way in silence, the radio playing an old Bob Seger tape quietly in the background. Everyone seemed tense. Even Sam was merely staring out the windshield, and hadn’t taken his phone out once.

“Y/N,” Dean said suddenly, making you jump slightly. You were really getting sick of that you thought to yourself, but you let out a grunt in response, continuing to stare out the side window.

“Y/N, I know this might be hard,” Dean continued, rubbing a hand down his face, “but is there anything you might be able to tell us about the shifter from before...” He trailed off knowing what he was asking of you, and you turned to stare at him in the rearview mirror.

“Dean.” Sam scolded, ever protective of you, and probably not wanting to hear the story first hand anyway.

“Sam!” Dean responded back, louder than his brother, and you shrunk into the leather seat, afraid of a full-blown confrontation. “We have to figure out something! We have nothing on an alpha shapeshifter, and I’ve looked through dad’s journal twice.” You knew that Dean was only frustrated, but having to be on the other end of his yelling made tears raise to your eyes. You wanted to be strong, but you felt your resolve failing and all you wanted was to curl into bed and put these last few days behind you. Sam heard you sniffle quietly behind him, and he looked back quickly, witnessing a few tears drip down your cheeks.

Dean opened his mouth ready to plead his case more, when Sam stopped him with a look, and Dean heard the soft noises you were making as well. He knew he was pushing you too hard, you had been through so much, but he wanted to find the bastard sooner rather than later, and if they didn’t know any of his weaknesses they might as well stop looking for him. He let out a sigh, and you glanced up at him from the back seat.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I just want to find him.” You nodded. You understood and you didn’t blame Dean for being upset, it was just all too much lately. And you couldn’t help the horrible thoughts that kept running through your mind. If Sam hadn’t come to see you that day, would any of this have happened? You would never blame Sam or Dean for the last few days, but you couldn’t help but think that you could be lounging in a hotel somewhere like before, your only concern being what game show you’d watch that night, had you not met up with the Winchesters again. The thoughts made you angry, and you suppressed the urge to lash out at yourself for being so selfish. You didn’t want to think anymore, and you definitely didn’t want to talk anymore. You’d help Dean and Sam with anything they wanted tomorrow. For now, you just wanted to sleep. Dean read your mind, as always, and shrugged off the flannel he was wearing, the car swerving a little, Sam scolding his brother again. Dean ignored him, handing his flannel to you without a word to use as a pillow. Instead you wrapped it around yourself like a makeshift blanket, breathing in the fading scent of his cologne, and fell instantly into a dreamless sleep.

-------------

They arrived at the bunker a few hours later as the sun was beginning to set. Dean and Sam had spoken quietly, while Y/N slept, about some sort of game plan. They concluded that someone in their life had to know how to kill this thing, but until they found the right information, Y/N would stay in the bunker, in Dean’s room. Dean wasn’t positive that you wanted to stay with him, but he felt better with you at least surrounded by weapons, and Dean would sleep on the floor if he had too. If it meant keeping you safe.

They pulled silently into the garage and Dean cut the engine. Y/N hadn’t moved, and Dean contemplated waking you or carrying you into the bunker and letting you sleep. He didn’t want to frighten you, should you wake up, but you looked more peaceful than you had in awhile. Sam muttered that he’d handle the bags, so Dean got out, careful to close the Impala door quietly, opening the back door slowly to prevent the squeaking. You didn’t stir as Dean pulled you from the back seat into his arms. Dean noticed that you had lost a little weight over the last few years and were almost weightless in his arms as he carried you down the hallway and into his room, placing you down on the bed. You still had his flannel covering your body, and Dean pulled it slowly away, discarding it to the floor next to the bed.

He turned to leave when you pulled harshly on his arm, almost sending him backwards onto the bed. When he turned, your eyes were big and you were staring up at him.

“Please, don’t leave me Dean.” Dean stared back, confused by the sudden change in the tone of your voice. He thought it looked like you weren’t worried that he would leave the bedroom, but rather that he was leaving your life entirely. It was almost like your eyes were screaming that they needed him, and he lowered himself slowly to the bed.

“Baby, I’m never going to leave you. What’s going on?” He asked quietly, while you pulled him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a desperate kiss. He hesitated for a moment or so, unsure of what was going on, but returned the kiss slowly, feeling your arms snake gently up his back and under his shirt. Dean broke the kiss, and you let out a quiet whine as he pulled your hands away from his back gently, placing them above his shirt on his chest, so he could look at you his hands firmly grasping your wrists.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He asked again gently, eyes creased with concern as you looked into his green eyes.

You weren’t sure what you were doing, but you suddenly wanted him, and it was more than wanting him to make you forget. You looked away from his eyes awkwardly, and he released a wrist to turn your head back to look at him.

“Hey,” he said again, his voice velvety soft. “It’s not that I don’t want this...” He finished, trailing off, taking your response as thinking he was rejecting you. You nodded that you believed him, never really overthinking his attraction to you with so much else going on. If anything, you questioned your own attraction to him after what happened. But Dean continued to be the only man who ever made you feel anything that could be considered intimate, even if the feelings popped up at unconventional times. Nothing about your life anymore was conventional anyway.

Dean was stroking your cheek gently while he patiently watched you make sense of what was happening in your own mind, and in your own heart. But you didn’t want to talk anymore, and you didn’t want to think anymore. You just wanted to feel something other than fear, and sadness. Without thinking about it more, you pulled Dean’s face back down toward yours, attaching your lips again, hoping he could feel that you needed this. That you wanted him, and you didn’t want to think twice about it.

Dean responded to your kiss, and you felt him groan quietly when you moved your hands back under his shirt, exploring his back, and hiking it up in the process. Dean broke the kiss quickly, shrugging off the dark fabric, and returning his lips to yours, slowly this time, matching his pace to his hands making their way up your stomach, slipping under your shirt. You gasped lightly, the feeling of his hands sending chills throughout your body. You could feel his hands hesitate, and you moved your lips to lay lazy kisses across his bare chest in return. His hands tugged gently at the hem of your shirt, and you nodded, feeling him pull the shirt over your head and toss it near his own. You had a flash of emotion suddenly, but didn’t have time to think too much about it, as Dean was pulling down the cups of your thin bralette, and pressing his lips to the soft skin beneath. You felt your head fall back, as he explored his way across your chest, and down your stomach. You were completely lost in the feeling of his hands and mouth, but as he proceeded lower, you felt something in your head switch on, suddenly screaming at you to stop, and you flinched, turning your body to the side slightly at the urgency of the voice in your head.

Dean pulled back immediately, eyes completely lust blown, but face a mix of confusion and something you couldn’t quite read. The voice in your head continued to scream, and you screwed up your eyes in pain, prompting Dean to stand up from the bed, pulling you to sit at the edge of the bed. He knelt down to your level, and you were sputtering out words trying to make sense of what was happening.

“I’m so... I don’t... God, Dean...” Dean waited patiently, but you were spiraling into your own head and before you knew what was happening you were sobbing loudly, still attempting to explain yourself, while attempting to understand your own feelings.

“I’m so sorry!” You sobbed out, Dean pulling you soft against his chest, not knowing what to say, simply smoothing down your hair comfortingly. You sat like this for awhile, until your body started to shake slightly from the cold air all around. Dean let you go, not looking directly at you, and pulling his own shirt on, before handing you yours. You slipped it on silently, and Dean stood in the middle of the room, awkwardly shuffling his feet back and forth. You were about to reach for him when he spoke up suddenly, his voice rough with emotion.

“I think I should maybe stay somewhere else tonight, Y/N... Let you have the bed to yourself.” He finished with a soft smile tugging at his lips, but he still wasn’t looking at you. You didn’t respond, so he simply nodded and headed toward the door without another word. Before you could stop yourself you were yelling out for him, new tears rushing down your face.

“Dean, I’m so sorry! Please, please don’t leave me. I’m sorry!” You were frantic, and a voice in your head whispered that you were being pathetic, but you couldn’t stand if he was upset with you for pushing him too far. You had to know what was going on in his head, and you didn’t want to be alone.

Dean was at your side in a second, pulling you into his lap so you were straddling him face buried in the crook of his neck. He whispered soothingly to you that ‘you were okay’ and ‘he wasn’t going anywhere,’ while you cried, gripping fistfuls of his t-shirt, and burying your face further into his neck, forcing your self to calm your breathing.

When your breathing was returning to normal and you calmed down slightly, Dean pulled you away from his chest lightly by the shoulders so he could look you in the eyes.

“Baby, I am so sorry.” You could see the anguish behind his green eyes as he spoke, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I shouldn’t have let it go that far... I should have been able to control myself. That won’t happen again.” You looked deeply into his eyes, mouth slightly agape. He was blaming himself?

You looked at him with a soft smile on your face and he looked confused for a moment before you spoke. “You have nothing to be sorry for, De. I...” You trailed off thinking of the right words. “I wanted that. I want you.” He smirked at you a little, the cocky teenager you knew and loved peeking through. You gave him a small scolding smile, and stroked his cheek, feeling him lean into it. God you loved this man.

“I just don’t know how to get past this, Dean...” You were ashamed with how you were acting, your emotions continually all over the place. Dean pulled your head up to look at him, his thumbs swiping at the tears that were beginning to dry on your cheeks.

“I know how you’ll get past it.” You looked at him questioningly, the small smile on his face turning into a grin, as he leaned in and planted a kiss on your lips that tasted of hope, and good memories. He pulled away, keeping you close as he spoke.

“We’ll get through this, and you wanna know why?” He paused to make sure you were listening and you were hanging on every word.

“We’ll get through it all because we’ll be together again, like when we were young.”

When We Were Young Tag List: @vicmc624 @woundedxsmile @akshi8278 @supernatural3002 @imaginationisgrowth @thoughts-and-funnies

End? Let me know what you think in the comments!

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magioftheseas · 3 years

Text

Gundham & Yasuke

Summary: The Forbidden Tanaka’s FTEs in the SDR2 Protagonist Matsuda Yasuke AU. YES.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Language and blood/injuries.

Notes: Unsurprisingly, Tanaka was the winner of the poll for which FTEs were to be done next. So his FTEs, quite hilariously, are getting posted on the anniverary date for sdr2′s initial release. That feels pretty...fitting. Writing Tanaka’s dialogue was really hard but I did my best. Despite my best efforts, these two don’t get along the best that they could. Cursed.

Read this fic among others HERE

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It went without saying that he didn’t have a normal middle school experience so he didn’t interact with a lot of people who exhibited the so-called eighth-grader syndrome. But he knew that once kids had the cognitive ability to identify their lot in life and long for more, such desires could get...twisted, to say the least.

Just about everyone wants to be fucking special if they’re not too focused on surviving. And most people grew ashamed of the lofty aspirations and special interests they developed in that delicate era. Matsuda understood that much, even if he was considerably detached from it. In some ways, those people were like animals. Strange beasts that acted on impulses and instincts. That still had intelligence but not, like, awareness. When it came to engaging with these types, Matsuda had no choice but to accept them even as he shook his head at their delusions of grandeur.

He understands he’s supposed to do that in theory.

In practice, however...

“Sharp-tongued fool!” Tanaka bellowed. “You draw too near to the barrier of the Ice Kingdom!”

It’s a beautiful day outside. It’s always a beautiful fucking day. Clear, sunny sky. Warm but with a pleasant breeze to keep it from being too sweltering. It’s such a nice day—and Matsuda Yasuke does not want to be here.

Without another word, he turns on his heel.

“Aha!” Tanaka sneered. “To think just the warning prose would be enough to make you turn tail and run. A cowardice I did not expect, but perhaps... I should have.”

While walking away and listening to that guy cackle to himself, all Matsuda had in response was to flip him off.

He proceeded to avoid Tanaka for the rest of the day—and would’ve avoided him for the rest of his life had fate not had something else in store.

It was another beautiful day. The perfect day for a walk. He was thinking by the ranch so that he could admire the chickens as he passed. Unfortunately, he not only came across chickens but also the cow that used to be a chicken he quite liked.

Also Tanaka Gundam.

And their eyes ended up meeting.

There’s no real point in reasoning with someone who exhibits grandiose delusions, he reminded himself. It’s no good to denounce them, but it’s also no good to enable them. It’s a delicate line that I do not want to fucking bother with.

Matsuda does look away, intent on ignoring the other. Despite that resolve, his thoughts don’t shut up.

I didn’t have any peers in middle school for obvious reasons. I never actually spoke to someone my own age who felt this way. I was too busy being fixated on my own goals and lofty aspirations.

A couple of steps forward. It’s fine. If he continued the way he was already going, he can just pass Tanaka. It’d be easy. Simple.

...

Fuck.

He pauses. He turns. Tanaka has already turned away, but as if guided by the third sense of a fucking Evil All-Seeing Eye, he turns back to Matsuda. His brow quirks.

“Has the barrier truly weakened so?”

“I don’t know,” Matsuda replied intelligently. “For some reason, I feel too worn down to go through the effort of pretending you don’t exist.”

Tanaka cackled lowly.

“Such an insolent remark. It seems you do not truly know your place. But that is just as well. Even now, your true name is one that seems out of my grasp.”

“I’m Matsuda Yasuke. Nice to meet you.”

Tanaka clicked his tongue, scowling at Matsuda’s blank expression and his deadpan tone.

“That,” he snarled. “Is merely a brush against the surface. It does not encompass the deepest depths of your rogue soul.”

Alright. So he wants to know what makes me tick. If I had to guess.

“Your true name,” Tanaka requested impatiently. “I have no need for superficial titles.”

“That’s cold,” Matsuda huffed. “The name my mom gave me isn’t superficial.”

...even if it is ironic.

For some reason, Tanaka does perk up. He gives a nod of approval.

“A fair retort,” he concedes. “That maternal bond is its own scarring shackle.”

That admission was the first true crack in the wall between them. Or so Matsuda supposed, and he felt himself slip just a little bit further.

What a headache...

“Anyway,” he went on with a wave of his hand. “It’d be incredibly foolish to give you my true name, right? If telling a demon my name gives them possession of my soul and telling them my birthday gives them control of my life... Then telling someone like you...”

Tanaka nodded again, grinning so widely it was damn near grotesque.

“I see...the sharp-tongued fool is still retaining a sharp mind...”

I shouldn’t have played along even in jest. Fuck.

“What special abilities do you possess?” Tanaka purrs, drawing closer now. “What hidden capabilities have you acquired?”

Tanaka stalks even closer, his eyes are flashing with curiosity and hunger. Probably because this fucking weirdo wouldn’t understand a normal interaction if it bit him in the face.

I still hate that stare. I fucking hate that stare.

“You already know that,” Matsuda snapped, forcing himself to stay relaxed. “Neurology is my talent. You even know my name and birthday because of those damn student files...”

Calm down, calm down. It’s just fucking Tanaka—

Tanaka does halt. His head tilts quizzically.

“Hmph.” With nostrils flaring, Tanaka seemed to duck into his own scarf. “I suppose you are human after all.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Simple.” Tanaka chuckled. “I sensed your apprehension, Matsuda Yasuke. I sensed—and yet, I could tell it was not a chill brought about by the Ice Kingdom.”

Matsuda does flinch at that.

“I shall take my leave for now so that you may re-gather your peace,” Tanaka declared. “Till next time, sharp-tongued fool.”

Tanaka gave him a salute. Matsuda barely had a chance to wave back before Tanaka flipped his scarf and coat so that it would dramatically billow behind him as he made his overly dramatic exit. So fucking extra, and yet—

He left so that I could take the time to calm down.

And how the hell was he supposed to feel about that?

“Even now, I can hear the crackling of the Ice Kingdom’s barrier.” Tanaka was cackling. Another beautiful day. Yet somehow this weirdo was set on shrouding himself in asinine mystery as well as his own dark layers. How the hell was he not burning up?

Tanaka noticed his staring and merely smirked. “What brings you today, Matsuda Yasuke?”

Aah. Even with that pompous fucking tone, it’s an understandable question.

“I don’t like things to be unbalanced,” he said which was a bald-faced lie but sounded persuasive enough. “Since you interrogated me last time, I thought I’d ask you a few questions of my own.”

“Hmph!” Tanaka snorted. “You seek a comprehension that may underlie a deep terror that cannot be contained! Do you not fear for your sanity?”

“No, I’m insane already,” Matsuda said flatly. “I drove myself insane years ago.”

“Is that SO?!” Tanaka boomed, incredulous or admiring, Matsuda wasn’t sure. “Your humanity is one that only hangs by a thread, then?!”

I...can’t disagree with that, huh.

Matsuda shrugged.

“We’re not supposed to be talking about me. Let’s talk about you.”

Tanaka remained guarded but gave a nod.

“Very well. Demi-human or no, I shall not lose to you.”

That’s more like it. You’re much less annoying this way.

“What talents do you have?” he settles on since it’s only fair. “Even if it’s not the full roster, I’d like to know some...special abilities.”

“You shall only get a portion,” Tanaka said, sniffing. “Despite my appearance, I’m an active fiend. Between sorcery and human hunting, I manage my website.”

Matsuda blinked, trying to imagine this guy at a computer. Actually, it was really easy to imagine. There’s no way Tanaka learned to talk like an edgelord on his own.

I bet he spends a lot of time looking up stupid shit like Norse mythology. But, if he has a website, then...

“I have encrypted my research with magic,” Tanaka informed him. “Thus, only those worthy can gain access.”

...if he means through password then I could probably hack in with ease.

“If I had to guess what kind of research it was,” Matsuda mused. “Then—probably something like a pet diary, right?”

There were a series of muffled squeaks from Tanaka’s scarf. Tanaka burst into a boisterous boom of laughter.

“Even with your wits, you would only be able to access the dummy site!” Tanaka grinned victoriously, even though no conflict had taken place. “Your skill level would only open the gates of the Exciting Breeding Journal.”

“...Alright. That’s fine by me.”

You’re literally here because of your talent in animal husbandry.

“Favorite food?” Matsuda asked next. Tanaka stiffened. Growled, even. Because he was pissed off about getting such a lukewarm response? Matsuda didn’t bother inquiring, instead pressing, “Do you have one?”

“The orange melon that bears the face of the devil,” Tanaka huffed, put out. “No other food compares in terms of high nutrients or versatility in cooking methods. More importantly, its seeds are the most effective food source for my Four Dark Devas of Destruction.”

...a pumpkin. He’s talking about a pumpkin, right?

“However! Those seeds must be carefully washed, carefully dried, carefully peeled,” Tanaka rambled on. “And lightly fried.”

“How meticulous,” Matsuda muttered. “But nothing less for...them.”

“Indeed. A difficulty that beguiles pain and pleasure alike matters not in the face of a grand purpose.”

I can agree with that even if I hate how it’s worded.

“There is more when it comes to the caring of beasts,” Tanaka rumbled. “Shall I lead you deeper?”

“Uh.” Matsuda waved his hand. “Next time. Let’s talk more next time.”

Tanaka gave him a truly wicked grin. For once, it actually felt malicious.

“Take as much time you need to prepare yourself, sharp-tongued fool.”

Matsuda made a face but bit his tongue.

Piece of shit.

Tanaka wasn’t out and about today at the ranch. He wasn’t in the diner, either. It went to reason that he was likely in his cottage.

It’s only because I found some pumpkin seeds that I’m even going...

When he knocked on the door, he found it unlocked. Since he wasn’t an animal, he was going to wait for Tanaka to answer the door rather than barge in but...

“Ku—!”

He heard a noise. A sharp, strangled sound that was undeniably made through gritted teeth. Matsuda opened the door immediately.

“Is everything alright?”

And indeed—Tanaka was holding his bloodied hand in a death grip. The hamsters were chirping and chittering, but unaffected. What happened was clear, especially in how Tanaka’s shoulders were hunched.

Thankfully, Matsuda carried around packets of wet wipes. He rummaged through his pocket for one, stepping forward and reaching out.

“Let me...”

“NO!” Tanaka shrieked, and like a startled beast he scrambled away from his hand. He was panting, still gripping his injury with a wide and wild-eyed stare. Seeing Matsuda there did little to calm him down, as he growled, “The blood that flows through my veins bears a fearsome curse. You must step away now to spare yourself their potency.”

Thankfully, Matsuda carried around disposable gloves. He slipped them on, tearing the wet wipe packet open, and made his way closer.

“Come on. We really don’t want that bite to get infected.”

“This is not my first blood sacrifice,” Tanaka snarled, even showing his teeth. Gross. “I have no need for your medical sorcery. And furthermore, that meager covering...!”

“Oh my fucking god, shut the hell up.” Matsuda snatched up his hand, prying the other off as Tanaka shrieked some more. Thankfully, Matsuda was able to pull it away and got to work dabbing and cleaning the wound. Tanaka had completely frozen now, but Matsuda was still fuming.

“Don’t ever fucking call me meager,” he snapped, and thankfully Tanaka had spare clean bandages for him to re-wrap his hand with. “Crude and foolish I’ll take. Meager I won’t.”

Tanaka finally scoffed as Matsuda made sure the bandaging was secure.

“A demi-human like you has such pride.”

Look who’s fucking talking.

“You should not have endangered yourself, however,” Tanaka went on. “I was not telling falsehoods about my poisonous blood. It is only by a thread that you have not already deteriorated. As crude and foolish as you are, I do not desire your demise.”

“I’ve dealt with my fair share of poison, so you’re worrying too much,” Matsuda replied but winced from a sudden headache. As he rubbed removed his gloves to rub his temples, Tanaka stood up.

“You once again face the ramifications for your hubris!” he exclaimed and rushed back to deal with his hamsters. “I grant you relief, and I advise you to take your leave immediately.”

“I’m fucking fine, it’s just a migraine,” Matsuda griped and disposed of the gloves and wipes. “Should you really be handling those hamsters again so soon?”

“They are not mere hamsters!” Tanaka bellowed. “The fangs I have taken are that of the Crimson Steel Elephant, Maga-Z!”

Maga-Z blinked its bright beady eyes at Matsuda.

“For the sake of the Invading Black Dragon, Cham-P,” Tanaka went to coo over the largest hamster which was orange, not black. “A golden demon, one who understands fear all too well... Much attention should be heeded to make sure they do not get overly stressed out... While many devil beasts of this ilk are aggressive and fearfully territorial, the golden variant is the most docile and intelligent. They recognize me as...”

He trails off. It’s as if he’s too moved to speak.

I have heard hamsters had an unnaturally high rate of cannibalism, Matsuda thought. But I suppose like with dog breeds, they come in all sizes...and temperaments...

It was obvious Tanaka knew his shit, being an Ultimate at all. But seeing it firsthand, watching him dote on the beasts with a cottage interior largely dedicated to their cage and tube, the guy definitely loved animals. Like, a lot. Despite his delusions of grandeur, he at least seemed to love animals a healthy, non-obsessive amount.

“They’re living well,” Matsuda commented blandly.

Tanaka scoffed at him.

“For demons that live a mere 1095 days, the luxuries in life mean everything. I would never settle for less.”

“I see...” He scuffed the end of his shoe against the wooden floor. “That’s good.”

Shouldn’t have worn open-toed shoes, but I don’t have any alternatives. Oh, right.

“I got pumpkin seeds.” He tossed the bag and it landed on Tanaka’s lap. The hamsters jumped, and even Tanaka flinched. Matsuda, however, turned on his heel. “Sorry. Bye.”

With that insincere apology, he headed out. He could feel a disproving stare on his back but that didn’t lessen his steps in the slightest.

His favorite chicken-turned-cow was in a good mood today. She was accepting pets and even nipping at his fingers. All he had on him was candy. Not any fruit much less hay although...

“If you plan to feed that creature, you should be wary of apples,” Tanaka rumbled from behind. Where the fuck he came from, Matsuda wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t surprised to be hearing from him. “You can risk over-eating which will cause a bloated stomach for the animal.”

“Ah, thanks for the advice,” Matsuda said sincerely, turning back and frowning when he noticed the other’s own hanging head. “What’s with the long face?”

“I would hope that you do not consider that creature to be your familiar, Matsuda Yasuke,” Tanaka murmured sullenly and solemnly. Like he had come across something truly pitiful to the point of depressing.

Although he seems more focused on the cow itself...

“I don’t have a familiar,” Matsuda huffed.

Tanaka quirks an eyebrow at him. Furrows it, even, as if Matsuda is the one not making sense. How seriously annoying. But rather than inquire further, Tanaka just shakes his head.

“Creatures like that one are born to be slaughtered,” he said, turning on his heel. “What a wretched fate, one that cannot be escaped even with the use of the Evil All-Seeing Eye. If one is to form a bond with such an unfortunate beast, they will invite only calamity.”

“That’s...” Not necessarily true. There is livestock out there allowed to live full lives. But they’re exceptions that prove the rule, I suppose. And the fact that I even thought to use a word like allowed... “Woof.”

Tanaka barked back. “This sentimentality only arose because I have not encountered any new beasts. I shall go searching as to put my mind at ease.”

He walked on, and Matsuda found himself following. Tanaka didn’t seem to mind at all. The opposite, in fact.

“There are many creatures I’ve tamed, sharp-tongued one,” Tanaka went on to say. “The Cerberus. The Phoenix. Even then Midgardian Serpent.”

Looks like I was right on the money about him looking up Norse shit. That’s just another fucking word for Earth, asshole. I’ve read enough shitty fantasy manga to know.

“I saw a toucan one time,” he commented in lieu of verbalizing his thoughts. “And I guess there are the seagulls. Or those mascots.”

“Those uncute fiends cannot be trusted with their speech,” Tanaka hissed. “As for the others... Ah, the ravenous, feathered beasts.” Tanaka nodded sagely with approval at that one. “They are a perilous project as they are quite fearless and impulsive. Even when greater threats arise, they gather like a court waiting to hand down judgment.”

I think...that’s more something that crows do rather than seagulls.

He does think about it though, birds judging one another. If he looked up, he’d even see a seagull or two soar overhead. A phrase rose to his mind, unbidden.

When the seagulls cry...

“Hm?” Tanaka paused when he noticed that Matsuda had stopped dead in his tracks. He turned, and whatever expression was on Matsuda’s face—whatever that was had Tanaka clicking his tongue. “What is on your mind?”

“Something stupid,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “Even in peaceful times, I can’t help but worry about how easily things fall apart. Sometimes for something as petty as a broken promise.”

Is it speech alone that gives us the means of betraying one another?

Tanaka did stiffen.

“It sure is fortunate for us that we’ve yet to deal with any storms,” Matsuda went on to say. “In fact, it’s perfect weather every single day. Isn’t that strange? It almost doesn’t feel real, and if it’s not real... Does anything that happens here matter?” He paused again. “Like I said. It’s stupid.”

“Your inane ponderings still have an air of malice,” Tanaka muttered darkly.

Huh.

“Are you saying I’m someone to be on guard around?” He cracked a dry smile. “I’m not that fucking interested in messing with people. I just lack patience.”

Tanaka gave him a look. Wordlessly, he shook his head.

“I think... I will seek solace elsewhere. Do not follow me.”

Matsuda didn’t. Simply watched the other go. It might’ve been one of those annoying situations where the person was saying the exact opposite of what they wanted, but even if he could tell that was the case, he still wouldn’t have followed.

After all.

He lacked patience.

Tanaka seemed especially moody today. Although no matter how sullen his air was, the island sun wouldn’t let up in the slightest. In a way, that was pretty cruel, right? In that much light, it made it difficult to hide. Or something like that.

Wonder what he’s being so fucking temperamental about...

Matsuda makes his way over, waving as he does. He stops, however, when Tanaka regards him coldly.

“Matsuda Yasuke,” he rumbled in a gravelly tone of voice. “The sharp-tongued fool whose practices engage in the constitution of the mind... Would you like to duel?”

Huh?

Matsuda dropped his hand.

“...have you finally fucking gone actually insane?” He sighed. “Don’t answer that. No, I don’t want to duel. And if you push it, I’ll leave. I don’t have time for that bullshit.”

Tanaka’s cold stare became more of a glare.

“I’m afraid I do not have such luxury around you,” Tanaka said sharply. “You grind down my defenses with this continued, unsightly association. Despite wearing the face of a human, you, Matsuda Yasuke are...!”

“I’m just human,” Matsuda replied before he could finish. With an unimpressed shrug, he added. “And if you wanted me to stop bothering you, all you had to fucking do was say so.”

“I allowed these exchanges out of a sense of curiosity, arrogantly unheeding the danger,” Tanaka went on, muttering as he did. “Truly, I have been foolish.”

The sun shone down on him. On a day this bright, there wasn’t anyone to hide. Tanaka ‘Gundam’ looked a bit ill. When Matsuda took a step closer, however, he recoiled. With a sharp hiss, Tanaka held up his hand in warning.

Like an agitated cat.

Matsuda drew back with a sigh.

Someone like this—really is so needlessly fucking difficult. And for what? An inflated sense of importance? Wasn’t getting into Hope’s Peak enough?

...if he complained too much, he’d veer uncomfortably close to hypocrisy.

Hope’s Peak was just another step for me, but I wonder what it was for someone like this? Where the hell would he be if he didn’t get in? Honestly—I doubt it would’ve been all that significant.

“Alright,” he said. “Did you get anything out of our interactions at least?”

Tanaka stared at him, but being a normal fucking person without magical powers, Matsuda was more than capable of staring back, unaffected. For some reason, Tanaka did shy back a little.

“I have keenly observed you,” he said lowly. “Namely how your regard only shifts when directed towards creatures already marked for death. I suspect—you are a creature of calamity. The eye of the storm.”

“So, what,” Matsuda drawled. “Like a demon?”

Tanaka hummed, seemingly considering it. “No... That is not quite right.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, then,” Matsuda huffed, waving his hand dismissively. “But—I think I get what you’re saying. I just think it’s funny coming from you—and that you don’t understand.”

Tanaka’s stare blazed with an offense, and Matsuda paid no heed at all.

“How I regard creatures marked for death...” Matsuda snorted. “I’m a fucking doctor. Obviously, I treat them differently. It’s part of my fucking job.”

Although he’s referring to the cow, isn’t he? Seriously...

“I guess it’s weird,” he admitted. “With how shitty of an attitude I have. But I take my job seriously. If you can’t get something that simple, then your Evil All-Seeing Eye is pretty fucking lacking.”

“You...” Tanaka growled. “You’re truly impertinent. You wield your blade recklessly and foolishly. You and I both know—that it runs deeper than mere duty for you, Matsuda Yasuke.”

...so what if it does?

He supposes he should be impressed that Tanaka isn’t that fucking dense. That the animal freak is, in fact, a little perceptive.

Smiling mirthlessly, Matsuda reached out to pat the flinching other’s shoulder. He gripped him for just a moment.

“That’s all you need to know about me,” he murmured into Tanaka’s ear before pulling back. “I think we’re at enough of an understanding. Thanks for your time.” He gave a salute as he headed on his way. “We don’t need to talk again. We especially don’t need to duel. Have a wonderful fucking day.”

“One day,” Tanaka swore. “You will meet your cruel, disastrous end. That is the decree of the Tanaka Kingdom!” As Matsuda got further away, Tanaka boomed after him. “Mark my words, sharp-tongued FOOL! You are MARKED for des—!”

It was such a headache that Matsuda tuned him out. But as he found himself alone, he did wonder.

Marked for destruction? Or something else? Despite all that time, rather than growing close, that weirdo is now convinced that I’m hopeless. He might be right. Actually, I’d still consider us closer if he can recognize that. I still don’t really care. I don’t.

He walked on, moving forward because he had nowhere else to go.

Decree. What a fucking riot. If I do die, it won’t be because of an idiot like him. But whatever makes him feel better I suppose.

Matsuda shook his head, brushing the whole thing aside except...

If I die... It won’t be until I reach the very fucking pits. I won’t settle for anything less.

#sdr2 #yasuke matsuda #matsuda yasuke #gundham tanaka #gundam tanaka #Magi fics #Protag Matsun

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aelaer · 3 years

Note

First: welcome home & I hope you get the sleep you need to get back into your routines! Second: it's Feb. 2, a significant day to our beloved Stephen Strange. I know you're exhausted right now, and the timing is poor--but perhaps when you're up to, you could write a little one-shot about his feelings all these years later (is it 2022 or 2023?) on the anniversary of the accident that changed his life forever. Can't think of anyone better suited to write it! xx

This was sent a year ago but last month I planned to have it out for Feb 2nd, hah.

For canon, he comes back in 2023 in what I think was likely after Feb 2nd, so realistically he can address the anniversary again in 2024. It'd feel like only 3 years for him while, in actuality, it'd been 8. But when it comes to his experienced time versus actual passing time, Stephen's pretty messed up without the Decimation already (I'm not sure how I feel about the name of the "Blip" yet.)

The prompter also requested first person after I asked for more details, and I haven't ever written Stephen in first person so I thought I'd give it a go. I know first person isn't everyone's cup of tea, but if you're willing to give it a shot, call me very obliged.

Warning for canon compliance :P

——————

Staring Back In Time Rating: G (well, other than language)

An entry from the memoirs of Doctor Stephen Strange, Earth's Sorcerer Supreme, during his time as the Master of the New York Sanctum, several months after the Battle of Earth against Thanos:

February 2, 2024

Calendars don't mean as much as they used to. Once upon a time my life was ruled by the calendar. Consultation here, surgery there, society dinner over the weekend. Dates were important and generally set without change once marked down.

It doesn't work that way as a sorcerer. I keep a schedule, of course, one that marks down classes with apprentices and adepts and meetings with other Masters, never mind all the business outside of Kamar-Taj. But I learned early on that these set times shifted occasionally to accommodate the emergencies that the order often had to quash down, and it became obvious that as a Master, my schedule was more of a hopeful guideline than anything set in stone. Flexibility was a necessity.

Ever since my return to the living, keeping anything resembling a set schedule has been more of a laughable dream. Earth being the center of two universe-changing, Infinity Stone-powered events in a matter of hours did serious damage to the fabric woven about reality across the planet, and the Masters of the Mystic Arts are going to be dealing with the multidimensional repercussions for years to come. Nothing is predictable in my day-to-day anymore.

My relationship with time was fucked the moment I confronted Dormammu, so I can't say it's a large surprise that calendars have become mostly irrelevant.

If someone had told me that I, Doctor Stephen Strange, a man of order and precision, would learn to live with such unpredictability, I would have laughed in their face. But I'm not the man I once was (and thank God for that; that man was a dick). However, it's also because of this change that I didn't realize the day until it was nearly done.

I was reviewing my schedule for tomorrow, which I had set up on Google Calendar (Google had, naturally, survived the Decimation just fine, but like most other non-vital services, had many of their upcoming products delayed for years. But their email and calendar services continue to work great). Tomorrow's a Saturday, which means nothing in my world. My work continues on. The threats on our reality care little for weekends or holidays.

Still, it was only during this review, shortly before I planned to retire for the night, that I realized that today is February 2nd.

I won't ever forget the day, of course. It was both three years ago and eight years ago—or perhaps many lifetimes ago would be a more accurate description, though I lost track of time in both of my major journeys with the Time Stone. One day I'll write about them. Not now, but one day. Both memories are still too fresh.

The memory of the day of the accident, though? It feels both like yesterday and centuries ago. Some parts of the day are engraved in my memory like a film. I remember the last surgery down to the individual conversations. Christine's "thank you". Nick's watch. The cling of the bullet as I dropped it onto the tray.

I can remember my last conversation with Billy, too, in the car. Every damned word. But the drive itself is fuzzy, even in my head with my memory. I remember it began to rain during the drive, not beforehand, and I know the road was narrow and two-laned. I know I avoided a direct route to avoid traffic, driving first into Jersey before heading north and crossing the river again. But the rest is forgotten to time, or perhaps to trauma.

I was told that Billy was the first to call 9-1-1 as he heard the tearing of metal and shattering of glass before the connection was lost. The driver I hit—I learned much later that she escaped with only minor injuries—called a couple minutes later. But it was out in the mountains, dark, and raining. It took them hours to find me and extract me from the car.

Funny. Never thought I'd ever write about one of the worst days of my life like this. But I was told early on that personal journals were encouraged for all who stay in Kamar-Taj. Something about its therapeutic benefits was mentioned at some point. I only picked up the practice once I learned that each gifted journal was inaccessible to others until the time of their death, and after I mastered the art of enchanting a pen to write the words I spoke. Unfortunately this journal appeared to others after the Decimation, but Wong has reassured me that no one read it and it has since disappeared again from public view.

Still, the point is that, one day, someone just might read this—account of a man who was part of an effort to save the universe. And it is difficult for a reader to judge my actions if they don't know how I was the one who ruined my life. My driving was reckless and stupid. I was running a little late, but it wouldn't have mattered in the long run had I been fifteen, twenty minutes, thirty minutes late. Not really.

Then again, I suppose it would have. I certainly wouldn't be here right now.

One could say that the accident and everything that has followed is some sort of penance for my hubris as a surgeon. I enjoy my newer abilities—quite a bit—but the responsibility that has come with them has not come without its own hardships and sacrifices. Perhaps the worst of the sacrifices were the ones I was unable to prevent others from performing, all for the sake of the universe.

Those sacrifices were made willingly, but I cannot help but feel responsible for them, regardless.

During my first winter again returned to the living, when the days grew colder and my hands ached in the bad weather, and the only thoughts to accompany the pain were bitter, another thought was born. I was tempted, for the first time in a long time, to give it all up, restore my fine motor skills with channeled magic, and go back to the world I once knew, for a life much, much easier than this one is now. Even with all the troubles that had cropped up as people tried to reorganize a world that doubled in size overnight, it was miles away from the difficulties we were facing in Kamar-Taj.

Their sacrifices—the fates I pushed so many people towards—quelled the idea quickly. It did little to ease the physical pain or sting of guilt, but it lifted the temptation. And ever since that day, I have considered the situation and I don't think I will ever be tempted by the idea of giving up my duties for an easier, pain-free life again.

And I suppose that counts for something.

——————

(Hey look, my interest in geography's leaked again.)

I've always wondered where Stephen actually crashed mostly because New York City is *flat* and those mountains were *very much not flat*. I figured out the bridge that he crossed to get out of the city (there are like, 21 bridges that lead out of Manhattan) was the George Washington Bridge, and it leads to New Jersey—but that's not necessarily useful because it can quickly turn back into New York state if you turn north. We also know he crashed down into a body of water, which *might* be the Hudson, but also might not, but that the body of water is to his left, which narrows it down a bit. But again, not much. And the site of his crash is so dark in the videos and screenshots that I can barely tell what's on it. It looks like a bridge and some industrial building, so the Hudson's a good guess, but otherwise? Well, basically I turned on the topography part of Google maps and started searching.

The 202 on the east side of the river just north of Peekskill (again in New York) matches the movie road's windiness, height, and closeness to the river, and even has a bridge that could be just to the north of the crash site. Unfortunately the railing's off and there's no industrial building thingy by the bridge. It also makes the route out of the city via George Washington Bridge make no sense. Like the Stark Industries area in LA in the films, it's probably a completely fictional landscape.

But as I wasn't able to find a better locale that was still close enough to NYC to direct an emergency helicopter to, my headcanon for this scene is that he left via George Washington bridge to avoid some major traffic or something, crossed the river via the 287 a bit further up north to get back to the east side of the river, then went up the 9 to the 202. Unless someone who lives in the area can find the actual road he was driving (if it's real), this is what I'm gonna go with. (And if someone DOES please let me knowwwww). Funny enough, I don't see him getting led to *his* hospital totally unrealistic, because he'd need a very talented orthopedic surgeon with a specialty in hands to come in, and generally speaking a patient can be helicoptered to another hospital where such a surgeon is available. If Stephen is working at the Metro-General, it's likely they can afford a large cast of talented surgeons. So I don't think Nick was necessarily the lead surgeon in his case, just one of many necessary surgeons.

#sobeautifullyobsessed #stephen strange #doctor strange fanfiction #doctor strange #mcu fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction #gen fic #ask #answered #prompt fill

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runenc03 · 3 years

Text

Til the light goes out (and after) - part 1

Writing date: I started in October ‘20, got scared by the amount of personal issues I put into “the reader” and procrastinated. I eventually finished in January ‘21, lol.

Genre: Angst, I guess? But not too badly, it’s fine.

Warnings: Insecurity (to everyone reading this, you are worthy!!)

Word count: 3.6k words

---------------------------------------------

"I remember when I reached the age of 25 and I had this jarring quarter-life crisis. I felt like I wasn't at all where I wanted to be: I wanted to be deeply in love and almost married to my soulmate. (...) I also wanted to be a publishing author. Yet I was single, and had never put a book together, even after writing hundreds of poems, journal entries, and essays in my life. I felt like I was just wasting my time, and that felt terrifying. That was three years ago. I look back at that time in my early to mid twenties so differently now. I see many beautiful poems written. Deep conversations with cherished friends. Night walks, early morning walks. Dinners with my family and birthdays, going around the table saying what we love about each other. (...) None of it was wasted. It was beautiful, and the life I had lived was so meaningful and precious. I wish I could go back, and tell myself that, so the younger me could appreciate each moment, rather than comparing where she was to where she wanted to be."

~Katherine Cimorelli Straneva

-----------------------------♡--------------------------

"I think Miss Swann over there should have the role."

Your hands stopped their movements to free you from your pirate costume, and you looked up. Your entire group of colleagues was staring at you, expectantly.

You see, you worked at a theme park, and it was just about the most amazing job ever. Every holiday period, it opened its gates, ready to shower people of all ages in everything magical. You were part of the actors crew, which basically meant that you acted out entire stories at fixed intervals and filled the rest of your time with walking around the theme park in costumes, doing small acts on your way. Often you ended up improvising, dancing with your guests, and of course posing for pictures. If you could, you would live in the theme park. Really, there was just something so entrancing about the atmosphere there, the music coming out of the lanterns beside all the roads, the roller coasters, the beautifully decorated buildings. A big part of the magic was because of the work you and your crew put into your characters and its stories though, you shouldn't underestimate that, which was exactly the reason you weren't too keen on taking the lead role in your next story. The pressure to create the biggest part of the magic was something you didn't know you could handle.

"I'm...not too sure about that. Ariel always plays the lead role, why shouldn't she now? I've never even done a lead role."

'Ariel' was one of your colleagues you were probably the closest with. She was funny, kind, and seemingly good at everything she did, acting included. Her real name wasn't Ariel, but you never called each other by your real names. It was like a tradition within your crew to call everyone by the name of the character they were currently playing. Seeing as she had had the lead role in your newest play, a crossover between Pirates of the Caribbean and The Little Mermaid, her name had been Ariel for the past two weeks, and yours had been Elizabeth.

Your friend wriggled herself out of her tail, her eyes still on you. A smirk was playing around her mouth, and your stomach gave a swirl. She had actually meant it when she proposed to give you the lead role.

"Because, dear Elizabeth, you wrote the play, and you did so beautifully! Your talent is ridiculous, and I think the entire thing is going to come across as much more honest if you play the biggest part in your own story. Isn't that logical?"

The other members of your crew nodded in agreement, and while you couldn't help but smile at their faith in you, the nerves in your stomach grew. You started to untie the laces of your pirate boots as you voiced your concerns.

"I'm not too sure about that. It's a love story, remember?"

The grinning on Ariel's face turned into a warm smile, but her eyes showed determination, and at that point you knew that you had lost this particular battle.

"I remember, and I also remember that you're the biggest romantic out of all of us. Come on, we all know you're going to be fantastic."

Another colleague of yours spoke up, telling you that he'd been in awe of the script you'd written, and another joined, claiming she'd even cried a little at the end. Your doubts slowly folded themselves back up again.

"The story belongs in this place, just like the lead role belongs to you, Elizabeth."

The words were spoken by the most timid guy in your crew. He never talked in your plays but provided the music in them, and even though he was terrific at adding that extra touch of magic to your stories, he never contributed to conversations about their content. You thought he just didn't really mind, as long as he could play his music. If he was willing to speak out loud about it, it must mean you really were meant to follow your crew's judgement.

You smiled, a blush blossoming on your cheeks, and you knew your eyes twinkled when you finally gave in.

"I'll do it."

_______________________________________

"Hey!"

You plopped down next to the music guy in your group, feeling extra cheerful today. You would start rehearsing the piece you had written today, and now that you'd been able to get over the initial insecurities you'd had, you felt really excited about this first rehearsal.

"Good morning, Jade."

You grinned at your brand new name, rummaging through your bag. Tossing aside a water bottle and some elastic bands, you found what you were looking for. Your eyes scanned over the words, making sure you had taken the right document out of the stack you had brought with you, before stretching out your arm in the direction of the music guy. He looked in your direction questioningly. Your grin turned into a warm, although somewhat insecure smile.

"If you're okay with it, your name is Sam from now on."

He read your script in silence, a small smile appearing on his face.

"Who says I can even act?"

"Who said I was able to play the lead role of my own story?"

He threw his head back in laughter, and you watched, surprised you were able to get such an exuberant reaction out of him.

Your alarm chose that exact moment to go off, the bright letters "START REHEARSAL" instantly reforming the knot in your stomach. You frowned at yourself. Weren't you over it by now? It was time to start the whole thing and you were still nervous, for God's sake.

"Hey, you'll be fine. Even better, you get to kiss the guy everyone wants to marry. You should relax more, maybe you can enjoy acting again then."

You tore your eyes away from your phone and onto Sam's face. His comment didn't help at all, and your face must have shown it, because his eyes went from warm to panicked, and your guilt punched the knot of nerves in your stomach. What a mess you'd made of all of this, already. You managed to send a tired smile in his direction, trying to salvage as much as you could from whatever it had been that had made him open up to you a bit.

"Thanks for trying to calm me, really it means a lot. I think I'll calm down once this rehearsal is over though. Are you ready? You're in the scene I want to start the rehearsal with."

He nodded again, awkwardly showing you the flute he was holding, and followed you to the middle of the room where you beckoned everyone to come join you so you could start.

Taking one last deep breath, you started.

"Hi everyone! As you know, we're starting our rehearsals for my story today. If everything went well, you've all received the script for the character you're playing. I actually wanted to start with one of the last scenes,..."

Everyone nodded at you encouragingly throughout your little speech, and as you realised that these were all your friends who genuinely cared about you, you felt the knot in your stomach slowly untie itself.

The first scene you rehearsed was actually the ultimate confrontation between the good and the bad in your story. Your friend Ariel, whose name was now Ruby, played the villain in your story, and you played Jade, the lead character. This scene basically consisted of the fight between Ruby and the main character's love interest, Dante. The story situated itself in the medieval times. Dante had come to Ruby's tower to rescue Jade, who he believed was kidnapped by Ruby, but upon arriving, he - and the park's visitors - would discover that Jade wasn't actually kidnapped and Ruby had made it all up. Then, Jade would realise everything just in time to go up to Ruby's tower as well and rescue Dante, instead of the other way around. What could you say? You'd always been a feminist at heart. Dante was played by a great friend of yours, and you'd actually written this piece thinking he could play the male love interest, while Ariel would play the female lead role, but things had, evidently, taken a turn. The two of them had been friends way longer than you'd been friends with any of them, and even though the three of you were really close, you couldn't help but marvel at the chemistry the two of them had, something you and Dante would very much lack, or at least that's what your insecurities made you believe.

However, you didn't want to rewrite the entire thing just so you wouldn't have to play each other's love interest, and you had showed the script, including the initial cast, to everyone anyway, so it wasn't really something you could get out of without a whole lot of awkwardness.

The rehearsal started off well enough. Ruby was, as you'd expected, really, a brilliant villain, and apart from some minor corrections from you, everyone executed the script exactly the way you had in mind. You were starting to believe in this.

That was, until the very end of the play, in which Jade and Dante would get all cute because of the whole we-just-survived-a-villain-attack-and-thought-we'd-lost-each-other situation. You thought you'd mentally prepared yourself, really, you had, but apparently it hadn't been enough. The awkward tension was palpable, your own movements, usually so fluent, were now stiff, your rigid body seemingly forgetting how your limbs worked. No one said anything about it, but you felt it and you know the others did too.

And you tried to pull out of that awkward moment, tried to chase your insecurities away, you really did, but they seemed to cling to you, and the longer it lasted, the worse your mood became. When you almost fell off of the stage because you'd instinctively set a step backwards when Dante had tried to pull you into his arms, you knew you couldn't continue like this.

Hastily, you grabbed your jacket, quickly telling everyone you would have a 15-minute break and that they'd done a good job, before hurriedly walking out of the building, and into the cold.

_______________________________________

The wind quickened your tears, and you angrily wiped them away before they could hit your neck, mad at yourself for allowing them to fall down. You knew you'd had to get back inside your rehearsal room eventually, and while everyone had a good image of what you were doing, you weren't looking forward to letting them see the evidence.

Most of all though, you felt vulnerable. Vulnerable because you had failed, and because everyone had witnessed you doing it. Vulnerable because your biggest insecurities had just come true.

"Hey, what is up with you?"

You looked up, watching as Ruby flopped herself down on the bench you were sitting on, turning herself so she was completely facing you. She wore an expression of confusion, and worry.

You let go of your eye contact, your eyes drilling holes in the soil beneath your feet. You owed her the truth. In fact, you owed your entire crew the truth. Being completely honest with yourself, you knew that was the only way this play would end up being a success. You took a deep breath.

"I'm just....not equipped to play Dante's love interest."

You couldn't look at her, too ashamed, but her voice conveyed honest surprise, which, in turn, made you surprised. Didn't she realise how obvious it all was?

"What are you talking about? You were fine until you had to reunite with Dante, and if you didn't like physical contact or if you were extremely hesitant for anything romantic, I'd agree with you and say you should probably focus on roles you are very good at, but you, you're a hopeless romantic at heart, and you like physical contact. Why is it so difficult then? I'm not making fun of you, I genuinely don't understand."

You scoffed, too caught up in your own head, annoyed at her lack of understanding.

"How can you not? I've never had a boyfriend, and that explains everything. Don't you see? It's not that I don't want to play a character that's in love, and I'm sure that if I managed to calm down I'd even enjoy it, but whenever I come close to Dante I feel like "forever single" is practically inked on my forehead."

You had, by now, managed to look at your friend, your annoyance chasing away a bit of the previous insecurity and shame. Her face morphed into a look of understanding, and you didn't know if that made you feel better of worse.

"I know it's a bit intimidating to play Dante's love interest, and I know that, like, everyone wants to date him, or at least gushes about how good-looking he is, but that doesn't mean that you can't play his love interest. Stop thinking you're too ugly to be around beautiful people."

If you hadn't been feeling so terrible, you might have literally facepalmed. Maybe you should've seen this coming, but Dante being known as the Adonis of your group really was the least of your worries.

"Wait...what? No, this has nothing to do with him being attractive, you know he and I are only friends. In fact, I think you would be great as his girlfriend, I would totally ship that. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that he's just a friend and it's not about playing his love interest, it's about playing someone's love interest in general. I just...what if it looks completely stupid? I know it looked stupid now. I can imagine all these cute things in my head, but then when I have to execute them, the only thing I can think about is that no one wants to do this with me in real life, and that just...I don't know. You all one by one find the love of your lives, or at least good partners you're happy and in love with, and it...it just makes me wonder if I'll ever be good enough to have that myself, as well."

"Oh, honey..."

You felt Ruby's arm wrap around you, her hand stroking your back, and you eyes filled themselves with tears again. She wasn't a physical person and therefore didn't like touching people, but she did now for you because she knew that you were. The tears started falling again.

"I mean, I knew you were ready to have a boyfriend, or like, to commit to someone and be in love with them, but I didn't know you were so insecure about not being in a relationship, and now I wish I'd realised that earlier. But you have to realise that while you're insecure now because you think no one is going to want you, you're going to be insecure about not deserving a boyfriend when you have one. Trust me, the insecurities don't go away, they just change. I guess what I'm trying to say is... don't wait for that moment that you're someone's girlfriend, the insecurities aren't going to magically disappear then. Now's the time to work on them. And, this shouldn't matter, but for the record: I fully believe that you are very worthy of being someone's girlfriend, and when the right person comes along, you'll give your all, because that's who you are, and it'll go a lot better than most of the relationships you wish to have yourself now. For now though, just have fun. You get to kiss Dante and make lots of bratty girls jealous!"

You chuckled at her attempt to cheer you up. You were really grateful for her. The two of you were complete opposites, and her radiance sometimes made you insecure, but right now, with her words, you believed yourself a worthy person again, and that meant more than you could express.

"That's what Sam said, too."

Ruby's eyebrows went up at lightning speed, her eyes wide.

"Wait, he talks? And he told you you'd be a good girlfriend?"

You rolled your eyes, but also noted how you had to fight the blush off of your cheeks.

"No, dummie, he told me I'd be able to kiss the guy - and I quote - everyone wants to marry. I guess he's not wrong, a lot of female visitors do seem to want to faint whenever he includes them in improvs."

Your friend chuckled, and, her laugh being so infectious, you chuckled along with her. Then, when you didn't expect it, she jumped off of the bench, beckoning you to follow her. As she entered the rehearsal room, she yelled that you'd come with her, and as the rest of the group started cheering, you realised that that had been a good choice.

_______________________________________

"Dante, hold on, I'm coming!"

A few of your younger spectators started whispering excitedly as you stepped into view, quickly climbing a long, round staircase to get to platform on which Dante and Ruby were battling. You were busy concentrating on tripping and falling off of the stairs. That had happened once during your rehearsals, and if you hadn't still been in the lower half of the stairs and if Sam hadn't discarded his flute to catch you, you probably wouldn't have been able to play Jade. While that scenario would've actually sounded appealing a few weeks ago, you had to admit now that you loved playing the lead role in this play.

You threw yourself in the battle, pulling just about the bluntest sword out of its holder around your waist, and clashing with Ruby's. Needless to say, Ruby was no match for you and Dante together, and with a dramatic last breath of air - and a smirk only you and Dante could see from so high up - she fell backwards, tumbling down. This part had actually taken quite some organisational talent. Right in front of the platform you were battling on, there was the staircase, while there was some kind of wall behind the platform. Ruby always fell down behind the wall, where multiple thick layers of soft material made her fall softly and unharmed. The visitors, however, only saw her tumbling down the platform, which made for a very dramatic effect. Of course, Ruby, out of all people, loved it the most.

While the enthusiastic applause intensified, you and Dante fell into each other's arms. You separated a bit, and patiently waited as Dante pulled a lock of your hair behind your ear, something that was in the script. Then, he leaned down slightly, pulling you in for a small, but cute kiss. This wasn't your first time enacting the play, and so you'd gotten used to kissing Dante, and even though you both really didn't have romantic feelings for each other and this was only just a play, you found that the enthusiasm during that kiss from both the kids and adults who were watching, had cured a lot of your insecurities over time.

Hand in hand, you walked down the stairs. Beneath you, the crowd started cheering again, and Dante squeezed your hand, smiling at you. You knew he was congratulating you for once again bringing the play to a successful end. Every time the two of you walked down those stairs, he did it, and every time, you were really grateful.

Once down, your entire crew formed a line, taking each others hands to make a collective bow. You were already holding Dante's, and reached with your other hand to Ruby, but to your surprise, Ruby completely dodged it and went to stand next to Dante on his other side. You were about to grin, your hopes at getting them together once more reviving, before Ruby looked at you and sent you a wink. You were puzzled for a second, until you felt your fingers being intertwined with someone else's, a warm, and, let's be honest, a bit of a clammy hand. Normally, your entire crew held hands with closer fingers, kind of a palm-to-palm thing, so this was a surprise. You were quick to turn your head, and looked straight into Sam's warm eyes. He flashed you a shy smile, and congratulated you on your performance. You smiled back, bowing down with the rest of your crew.

When you got home tonight, you wouldn't slip off your smile along with your costume, for you finally understood that you were just as worthy of a fairytale as all the princesses, goddesses and fairies you had played along the way.

#crushxreader #crush x reader #love #themepark #colleagues to lovers #crush #imagines #oneshots #acting #actor!reader #music #musician!crush #theatre #oneshot #xreader

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thechosenferret · 4 years

Text

Of Course It’s Precious Potter - Chapter 3

This chapter is dedicated to @scarheaded-ferret for his birthday! You are such an incredible person, and I hope you enjoy your next year of life! <3

Summary: Draco has been tasked to steal a possession from precious Prince Potter. Little does he know, that's only a small test for what they need done next. Well, that is if Draco can carry it out to the end.

You can also read it on ao3 under the username TheChosenFerret (there’s a link in my bio, I don’t trust tumblr with links in original posts), or through my tag #Of Course it’s Precious Potter

一一一一一一一一

As the day progressed, Harry couldn’t get the nagging thought out of his head that perhaps his mind hadn’t entirely made up the blond stranger. With would be a lovely thought if it meant that he could see him again, but there was still the tiny problem that their first meeting was… technically due to trespassing.

Harry didn’t give a thought to why exactly he was trespassing until he made his way to his dresser. Every year, Harry sees the same items on that dresser. Every week, Harry cleans those same items on that dresser. Every day, Harry picks up one specific item on that dresser. Today, however, it was gone. Gone except the letter he carefully kept secret underneath it, which could only mean three things. One, someone knew about the letter. Two, someone purposely left the letter. Three, the blond man must of stolen his dad’s trophy.

Fuck.

Of course the trespassing man had to commit another crime at the same time.

Of course the trespassing, stealing man had to purposely not steal what was now the last remaining artifact of his parents. Harry didn’t know whether to count this man as a complete fool, report him immediately to the watchmen, or send him a thank you card. Of course, reporting him to the watchmen would mean giving up the letter for investigation and to “protect the past King and Queen’s treasures,” aka lock them up until they rot away, so that was clearly not an option. All that’s left is that the man is a fool who should be thanked, which could only be done if he made the foolish decision to strike again.

He could strike again, actually. Seeing as he left behind the letter, someone may of been just as pissed off as Harry was happy.

In that case, Harry went to collect his parent’s letter like always, but instead of reading it before immediately hiding it again, he brought it over to his desk, where he placed it next to him so he can protect it better, then began to write letter to the blond man. After a few drafts, he finally felt okay enough with it, and went to leave it in the middle of the room upside down with the words “To The Blond” written as big as possible on the back.

Feeling the day catch up to him at last, Harry collected his parent’s letter and made his way to the bed, where he read through the it from the light of the one candle left still lit in his room. He then carefully placed it on a pillow next to him that he is certain will not be harmed if he were to roll over in the middle of the night before blowing out the flame and finally going to sleep.

一一一一一一一一

Following the same path that he took last night, Draco scaled up the castle, steadied a rope to a mini cross lined up across the roof, and made his way down the chimney into the now unfortunately too familiar, dusty fireplace. The only thing that was different now was the one piece of trash among the nearly spotless room. Draco ignored the item and surveyed the room, trying to get into the mind of such a Posh Prince to see where he might hide his oh so important diary.

On the bookcase? Although the room is pristine, the bookcase feels like it hasn’t been touched in ages. In the drawer under his bedside table? Draco carefully made his way closer to the table, and therefore the stupid prince. He looked so… not idiotic while asleep, even slightly peaceful. Draco snapped himself out of his thoughts as he turned his attention back to the table and, subsequently, the drawer that was lacking a diary.

Draco continued his search by checking the other drawers in the room, where the most interesting thing he saw was a hairbrush, but yet no journal. Not wanting to be out in the open for too long, Draco made his way back to the fireplace, but not before stopping in the middle of the room with that stupid piece of trash. The stupid piece of trash that was addressed to a blond. Merlin, of course Potter had seen him. And to make it worse, he wrote him a letter. Curiously, Draco picked it up and started to read it as he very slowly walked back to the fireplace. Potter wanted to meet up with him. And doesn’t despise him? That idiot. He’d guess the prince was all self-righteous and forgiving, but he never expected to be on the receiving side of it.

He paced the room without care as he read the letter again and again, only stopping when his brain started to think about how he must of written this tonight, which means that he probably used his desk tonight seeing as the paper didn’t show signs of being written without a solid surface behind it, therefore maybe he regularly uses his desk, so perhaps he has actually used the books stacked on his desk. During all this time of snooping, Draco thought the pile of books was just for decoration to act like he studies.

Draco put his letter in his pocket and began to sort through the books. Introduction to Finances? Nope. Full History of 1660 to 1666… Aha! An unmarked book with handwritten entries dating back to 10 years ago. And to further prove his point, the handwriting is very close to the one shown on his letter. Bingo! Not wanting to risk Harry seeing him for what now would be the third time, Draco slipped back out with the diary, totally not glancing at Harry one last time before leaving.

一一一一一一一一

Draco continued his route to the meeting spot by rooftop, not wanting to deal with scaling back down quite yet. As he walked and jumped, all his thoughts kept tracing back to that damn letter. That letter and the diary that featured what he can only guess is all the minor inconveniences for such a rich and loved guy such as Potter. Which means that it really wouldn’t be horrible to read some of it. Plus, he should double check that this contains the prince’s thoughts, and not some rando’s diary the prince somehow has saved. So, Draco was legally obligated to read it.

Draco made his way over to the meeting spot and found a nice spot on the roof where he can lean against a half wall, but could still perfectly see the sun when it rises. The client can wait a few more hours for me to double check this purchase. Can’t give away faulty merchandize after all. So he read. And read. And read.

The journal wasn’t contains of minor inconveniences at all. Actually, they were very major problems. Why hadn’t this idiot told someone about this before? That cupboard. His family. Merlin. Draco couldn’t let this get out to some second hand thief, not that it was any better that he’d done it. There must be some reason he’s been keeping it out of the public’s eye for so long… which means that Draco’s going to have to make sure that this book stays a secret. One stupid letter and all the sudden he’s helping people, all thanks to that idiot Potter.

Draco hid the journal in his jacket and made his way down the building and to the market. He had to look into a lot of stores to find one that has someone in it, let alone is selling empty journals, but at long last he found it. He got the smallest one (both to help out on cash but also so he can fill it up faster), then bought a quill and ink and made his way back to the roof to start his work.

He wrote until the sun finally did rise, but he managed to create a diary full of minor inconveniences that seemed close enough to reality to be believable. To finish it off, Draco scrawled the words “Harry James Potter’s Personal Journal” on the front. It pained him to have to try to recreate the messy handwriting of Potters, but he feels like he’d pulled it off with flying colors—maybe his cousin was right about how he should go into forgery.

Worried about stalling any more, Draco hide the real diary and letter on the roof, and made his way down the building. He threw on his “I just pulled off a successful heist” face just as the same man from the previous night appeared from behind a wall. Silently, he handed over the replicated diary, choosing to not speak even when he guy walked away and said “Well contact your family again soon” for fear of having his voice betray his thoughts, all of which were along the lines of fuck.

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Taglist: @devilrising @sweetlialia @ladyseidenlocke

#drarry fanfic #Drarry fanfiction #drarry #drarry squad #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #drarry fic #my writing #draco x harry #harry x draco #Prince!Harry Potter #Royal!Harry Potter #Criminal!Draco Malfoy #Of Course it's Precious Potter

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1185

survey by xflirtykaosx

Alphabetti Spaghetti (3/3)

Please believe. - P

How many pages did the last book you read have? I don’t even remember the last time I opened it; but if I have to guess, it’s probably anywhere between 600–800 pages.

What do you like on your pancakes? Soaked in butter, with peanut butter and maple syrup on the side. My dad will also sometimes mix bacon into the batter, and it always turns out delicious.

Do you like small parties or large parties more? I love going to any kind of party, but I like large ones just a little bit more just because it’s easier to blend in and go unnoticed for the most part. I usually feel pressured at smaller parties.

What was the last exam you passed in? I have no idea. Maybe a history exam? I remember taking a Rizal exam right before the pandemic started and I never got the results for that since classes were canceled shortly after. I’ll never know if I actually passed that test haha.

Do you think paw prints are cute? Yesssssss.

How much would you pay a neighbour to do your lawn? We have someone in the village who does that, and my mom usually gives him a tip of I would guess around ₱100.

Ordinary pens, scented pens, gel pens or felt tip pens? Ordinary. The other ones write horribly.

Are you a people person? I’ve grown to be one over the years. I do like my alone time, but I have the most fun with a person or two or ten around me.

Do you put pepper on your scrambled eggs? No. I never use pepper myself, actually.

Who, except yourself, has the nicest pet? Angela’s, at least one of her dogs are. Hailey is super nice and she doesn’t really care what you do with her hahahaha.

What's your favourite piece of clothing? Right now, probably my IVP sneakers since they’re my newest purchase. Other than that, my mom jeans are always super reliable.

What place have you gone to that you never would again? Police stations that I had to visit to cover stories for my journalism classes. Maybe it’s other people’s passion – and I thought it was mine at one point, too – but once I found myself in places like that I slowly realized that I didn’t have the fire for journalism I once thought I had.

What do others seem to have plenty of and you have little or none? Nice photos of themselves. I’m very camera shy.

Is pink a nice colour, an okay colour or icky? I personally love pink, so.

Give me a description of a great film plotline? ...I don’t feel like it :(( I also haven’t watched/rewatched any films in a while, so my memory is a bit rusty.

What do you have in your pockets? Nothing I’m wearing right now has pockets.

Do you listen to podcasts? Not really. I’m part of the minority that finds podcasts a little boring.

Have you ever played Poker? I’d guess I’ve tried playing it one or two times, but I’ve never understood the rules and I probably just did some random moves when I did try it.

Do you have a pond in your garden? No.

How about a swimming pool? We don’t.

Do you like Poptarts? I loooooove Pop Tarts and I wish we had more flavors here :( and that they weren’t so expensive.

Do you write notes on post-it notes? Sometimes; but lately I’ve mostly just been making to-do lists on my laptop. Writing takes too much time considering how hectic my job is.

Quiet darling, shh. - Q

Do you ever use the word quaint? Very rarely. I never really get into situations where that word would be most fitting to use.

Do you know what quantum physics is? I know of the term from watching The Big Bang Theory, but I don’t know what it refers to.

Are you a quiet or loud person? Depends on the people I’m with, my general mood, and my level of comfort.

Do you usually ask a lot of questions? I never do. I feel like that’s a weakness of mine, too. My mind never wanders too far, and I’m only able to recognize good questions when someone else raises them.

What's your favourite quote from a film? “Rome. By all means, Rome.”

Favourite quote from a song? “Now I’m told this is life, and pain is just a simple compromise so we can get what we want out of it.”

Are you quick witted? In what aspect? Not always; but yeah, I guess it comes out sometimes. I’m pretty good at witty or funny comebacks, especially with people I’m comfortable with.

Do you find the word queer offensive? Er, no?

Roses are Red and Romance is dead. - R

Do you listen to the radio often? I used to, since I once drove to school everyday and I liked having the radio on - especially in the morning, since there was a morning program I was hooked to. But now that I’m at home 24/7, I don’t really tune in anymore; I don’t even have the slightest clue what songs are trending rn.

Do you prefer rain or snow? We only get rain, so.

Have you ever ran into someone and injured you or them due to it? Fortunately no, for both circumstances.

Do you listen to rap music? K-Pop groups always have their own rap sub-unit, so yeah I’ve definitely been more exposed to rap these days.

Do you find pet rats gross or nice? Why? I guess it’s cute when they’re pets, since I’m sure they’re harmless. Not so much when they’re big black filthy rats that are house pests and probably carrying a lot of diseases.

Have you ever been to a rave? No. I’d love to experience it once.

Are you somewhat of a rebel? Nah.

How about reckless? Now this hits the spot more, especially when it comes to money lol

Do you prefer red, black or purple dresses? Black, then red, then purple. I don’t wear a lot of the latter to begin with.

Do you know how to reload a gun? I don’t; I’ve never even held a real gun before.

Do you remember your first best friends Mum's name? I don’t think I ever met her mom. Our friendship was super short-lived and didn’t go beyond preschool.

Do you have a good or a bad reputation? Idk, you’d have to ask other people for this I think.

What song do you request most often on the radio? I’ve never requested a song to radio stations.

Do you prefer rice or tofu? I need rice for literally every meal, otherwise it won’t feel filling. I like tofu too, but I only have it occasionally when it comes with some dishes.

Have you ever held a rifle? Nope.

Do you know a Robert? What's he like? I have an uncle-in-law named Robert. He’s very nice, and super intelligent; he’s from New Zealand but currently lives with my aunt and their family in Vietnam. Since he’s from a different country, he has lots of fun stories and different perspectives to share at family reunions, which makes me always want to sit at whichever table he’s at so that I can be part of interesting conversations.

Do you like rollercoasters? No.

Been to Rome, Italy? Nope.

Are Roses your favourite flower? They’re one of them.

So sweetheart, lets fan. - S

Do you feel safe in your neighbourhood? Yeah, I mean that’s kind of the whole point in living in a gated village. I’d be pretty alarmed if I ever hear of a crime happening here.

Whose the Patron Saint of your Country? St. Lorenzo Ruiz. I actually didn’t know that for a fact, so thanks for the Google search and impromptu lesson!

Do you put salt on your fries? Yessssssss, I need my fries to be very salty. Unless it was already seasoned with something else, I’d find it boring if it wasn’t salty enough.

Do you think we are all born the same? In some ways, yes; in some ways, no. I know everyone is born as humans worthy of love and respect, but when it comes to factors like privilege then that’s when circumstances start to get all different.

When did you stop believing in Santa? I never bought it. I used to always get frustrated that I was never allowed to meet Santa (none of my relatives ever played as him), and that he apparently just likes to leave gifts at midnight. Not seeing a Santa made me doubt and eventually I just kinda stopped buying it by the time I was like 5.

Do you think the name Sarah is pretty? Erm, it’s fine but I find it a little common.

Is Saturday your favourite day of the week? Fridays are, but Saturdays are a very close second.

Have you ever watched Saved By The Bell? Opinions? Nope.

What about the Saw films? Opinion? I haven’t, but I know they’re my eldest cousin’s favorite so it must be a good series.

Are you easily scared? In certain ways. I hate jumpscares for one, and I easily get offended by them.

What's your secondary language, if any? English.

Name all the things you can see from where you're sitting? The entirety of my bedroom.

What's the last sentence you spoke out loud? “JAY KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY”

Have you changed your default settings on your computer? Some of them just to change some aspects of the appearance, but I didn’t do a complete overhaul.

What year did you turn seven in? 2005.

How important is sex in a relationship how important is sex from 1-10? For me, probably like a 3 or 4.

What is your favourite shade of blue? Sky or royal.

Shade of Purple? BTS purple, I guess? Hahaha.

Favourite shape? I don’t have one.

Do you know a girl called Sharon? Nope.

How about Shari? Nope.

Do you shave your arms, legs, pubic hair and/or somewhere else? I shave, but not all of these areas.

When was the last time you were sick? May 2020 was the last time I felt like death.

What's the worst side effects you've had due to a medication? I’ve never gone through side effects from a medication.

What does your signature look like? A very lazy scribble of the first and last letters of my whole name.

Do you like silk? What do you own that is silk? It’s okay, but I never actively search for it. I have one set of silk pajamas but that’s it.

Do you sip or drink hot drinks fast? As much as possible I don’t like getting in contact with hot beverages. I wait for them to cool down considerably before I take my first sip.

How about with alcohol? Sure, I like to take them fast so that I don’t feel the nasty burn on my tongue.

Do you have sisters? How many, what ages and what're they called? Nina is turning 21 this year.

Is your grandmother older than sixty five? Both of them are, yeah.

Do you slam doors often? Nope.

Have you ever slapped someone in the face? For what reason? Yes. Because he had slapped me first. I was in so much shock that my first and only instinct was to hit back.

Do you snack a lot or just eat big meals? I like letting myself go hungry then reward myself with a very generous serving to eat in one go.

Do you smile more often, or frown? Smile.

Are you wearing socks? No, I haven’t worn any in a while.

Do you say sorry too often? Yes.

What's a sound that always soothes you? This. I always play it before turning in, or when I need to calm down.

Do you carry a lot of spare change? How much is on you now? Not so much anymore, since I’ve been increasingly going cashless.

Do you own a swimsuit of the Speedo brand? I don’t think so.

Do you like sunflowers? They have a personal meaning to me, so yes. It’s not my ultra favorite, though.

#survey #surveys #i just realized the author never wrapped this up :(#so i guess we're stopping this at S hahahaha

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 4 years

Text

Sunflower - Harry Styles AU Series (Volume 3)

The year is 1977 and it’s officially summertime. Y/N is spending it with her family at the Malibu Breeze Hotel, where she meets, aspiring musician, Harry Styles. The two clash in the beginning, but soon realize they may just need each other in the end. Find out just how life changing one summer can be in Sunflower, a Harry Styles AU.

Here is part 3 of Sunflower. Hope you enjoy it!

Vol. 1 Vol. 2

Word Count: 2,913 The next morning I woke up just as the sunrise started peeking through the window in our room. I sighed rolling out of bed knowing I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Not that I really slept much after last night anyway. The adrenaline and anticipation of what might happen next took over my body despite knowing how tired I really was. Marianne most likely wouldn’t wake up for at least another three hours, so I decided to head down to the beach.

I changed into my bathing suit before pulling on some flowy pants and a shawl just in case it was a bit chilly. I quickly brushed through my hair before grabbing my book and my sunglasses to head out. I left a note for Marianne just in case and closed the door as quietly as I could.

When I made it down to the beach, I noticed how empty and quiet it was. It was soothing and peaceful being able to hear the waves crashing along the shore without the noise of chatter from the either guests on the beach. The sun shined bright as I walked along the shore with my feet in the water.

There were only a handful of people at the beach, a few of them being workers setting up chairs and umbrellas for the guests, and a couple who were walking or running. I held my book against my chest, afraid I might drop it into the water and it would be ruined. I paused briefly to capture the remainder of the rising sun above the water.

After a few minutes, I took a seat down on the sand and opened my book. I hadn’t really read much while I’ve been here, putting some much time in to work on my song for the audition. The audition I wasn’t sure I would even get and if I did I had no idea how I would tell my parents. My father probably wouldn’t approve of it mostly because he would see it as a distraction for what was to come in the fall with me heading off to University.

Or because he would view me as being more like Marianne and not myself. However, both of my parents know how much music means to me, as least in the sense of it being a hobby. But if I did get offered to be in Harry’s band, maybe that would show them that it’s more than just a hobby for me.

The wind started picking up a bit, blowing my hair in my face and the pages of my book around. I was focusing so hard on trying to read through the blowing pages that I didn’t realize someone approaching me until I saw their shadow. I glanced up and quickly saw Harry standing there.

He was shirtless, showing off even more tattoos and yellow running shorts. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark, black, sunglasses.

“Um, hi,” I said awkwardly, putting my bookmark in my book.

Instead of answering or telling me why he was here, he sits down next to me. There’s still quite a bit of space between the two of us, but I can still feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Sorry for uh.. approaching you like this,” he said. “I saw you while I was running,” he coughed.

I nodded looking at him completely confused on where he was going with this. I wanted to ask him straight out about last night and why he was currently in my presence, but I couldn’t bring the words to leave my lips.

“Um, yeah, so I thought I’d get this out of the way and let you know, we decided you’re in,” he said.

Wait… what?

“In?” I asked, waiting for him to elaborate.

He sighed, “The band, look, you’re real good, and seem like a cool chick, I guess, but I just don’t know if our music is right for you.”

“Excuse me?” I asked. “I’m not following you… I’m in, but you don’t think I’m right for your music? What does that even mean?”

“Look, you seem real nice and shit, but the music scene isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. The tag line Sex, drugs, and Rock N’ Roll exists for a reason,” he said.

“Are you trying to say I’m too… too innocent?” I asked with annoyance dripping from my voice.

“I mean… yeah,” he said scratching his head.

“Well last time I fucking checked, you don’t know a damn thing about me,” I snapped. “And even if you were right, who the fuck cares… You said it yourself that I’m good and what your band needs. I know it. Your band knows it. Jasper knows it. And you fucking know it. I don’t get what it is that you don’t like about me, but if this is your way to try and get me to not join your band, then you’ve got another thing coming, Styles. I’m gonna show you just how wrong you are.”

I didn’t even bother to give him a chance to respond before getting up from my spot on the sand and walking away leaving him behind.

Later that day, I was sitting by the pool trying to forget about my encounter with Harry a few hours earlier. I couldn’t believe he spoke to me in such a way. Actually, I can because he’s always been an ass whenever I saw him before, so I don’t know why I thought he would be any different. I guess the biggest issue was because he said even though I was good, I wasn’t a “good fit” for the music.

What the fuck did he even mean by that? I stared at the blank page of my journal and started writing down my thoughts. I had written about half a page when I noticed someone blocking the sun for the second time that day.

“Can I help you?” I sighed looking up at Jasper, who was standing there holding a bright, pink, fruity drink on a tray.

“Yep, he was right,” he said sitting the drink down on the table next to my chair.

“One who was right and about what, two I didn’t order anything,” I told him, looking at him for a drink.

“I saw Harry this morning and he told me about your uh conversation this morning about how he fucked up,” he said. “So, I offered to bring you a drink as a bit of a peace offering.”

“Do you really think a fruity little drink with a paper umbrella is gonna make a difference?” I rolled my eyes.

“No, but it is a conversation starter,” he said sitting down on the chair opposite of mine.

I sighed, taking the glass in my hand, sipping it, “Let me guess, you’re here to do damage control?”

“In a way,” he winced. “Look, Harry can be a major dick, I’m not denying that.”

“So, then it’s not just me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope, he has his moments with everyone,” he said.

“Riight,” I said. “Anyway, let’s get to why you’re really here.”

He sighed, “After hearing about what happened this morning, we’re afraid you’re not going to take the offer.”

“Oh, you mean the offer that I’m good enough for, but not the right “fit” for,” I asked. “And is Harry included in this “we”?

“Yes and no,” he said. “It’s complicated with Harry. He knows you’re what the band needs to set them apart from what’s going on in the local music scene, but his pride is fucking with him.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Think about it… how would you feel if you’ve spent years trying to make a name for yourself and not getting anywhere and then someone finally gives you a tip saying it’s cause you're missing something. Which is basically saying you’re not good enough,” he said.

“Oh, um, yeah, I can see why he’s a bit of ass,” I sighed. “I guess I didn’t realize.”

“So, what do you say,” he said. “Will you at least give it a shot? A few practices, a gig?”

I sighed, looking down at the drink in my hand, “But what if he’s right? What if I don’t fit…”

Why was I second guessing myself? And why was I so open with talking to Jasper, when he was still technically a complete stranger.

“Hey, he’s not right and even he knows that,” Jasper said. “Just give it a shot and if you don’t feel like you’re a fit, then fine. But let it be your decision.”

I sighed with a nod, “Okay.”

“Groovy,” he smiled. “Here’s the deets on where to meet us. See you tonight.”

I take the slip of paper from his hand, “Thank you.”

He gives a small smile before getting up from the chair and heading back to work. I sighed, pushing hair out of my face and opened up the note.

The Soundbooth. 10pm.

I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when I showed up at The Soundbooth. I brought my guitar just in case it was needed and I got help from Marianne with my outfit. I wasn’t going to change myself to fit in with the band, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t change up my clothing style a bit. When I arrived, the building was smaller than I had imagined, but given the name I don’t know what I thought it was going to be a bigger venue.

As I waited in line, I quickly thought it may not have been the best idea for me to come alone, but my only option was to bring Marianne and while we were getting closer, I still wasn’t ready to bring her into my world. Not that this was really my world yet. Once I was finally inside, the place was even smaller than it appeared. People were packed in like sardines. Tables and chairs were practically on top of each other. My grip tightened on my guitar case as I searched around for a sign of either Jasper or Harry. I secretly hoped I could find Jasper first because I wasn’t sure how I would react if Harry saw me and seemed annoyed at my presence.

Surely, he must know I was coming after my conversation with Jasper, but even if he did know I’m sure there was a part of him that wished I hadn’t come. Unfortunately, Harry was the first one I saw, he was standing at a table close to the stage. I sighed debating on walking over there or just finding a spot in the back, but I knew the latter isn't really an option. If I was serious about not only being part of the band, but also proving him wrong, I had to do everything I could.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed my way over towards Harry and where he was standing. I wasn’t sure what I would say when I got there, but it was too late to turn back now.

“You came,” Harry said, sipping his drink once he noticed.

“Doubt I would?” I asked, sitting my guitar down.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t,” he said.

“Well, I’m sure it’s not the first time you’ve ever lied to a female,” I mumbled.

Harry sighed running his hands through his hair, “I uh.. Look, I know we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot or whatever…”

“Bit of an understatement, but yeah,” I interrupted.

He rolled his eyes, “I’m trying to apologize, okay? I’m sorry for what I said this morning, but this… this is my life and if you’re going to be in my band, then I need to know you’re serious about it and this isn’t just some extra curricular type shit for you.”

I sighed, feeling a little guilty about my own behavior towards him, especially after my talk with Jasper earlier that day.

“No, I get it,” I told him. “Music means a lot to me, too. I would never do anything to jeopardize that for myself or anyone. Including you, I wouldn’t have gone to that audition if I wasn’t serious about it. I never would have sat through all those horrendous auditions and then made you listen to me, if this wasn’t something I wanted to do.”

“Good to know,” he said. “So, for tonight, I thought it would be good for you to see what one of our gig’s looks like and what our music sounds like. That way if you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into.”

I nodded,”Cool.”

“You can sit here, but I’ll be going backstage to warm up. We can talk more after the show,” he said.

“Okay,” I nodded, pushing myself up onto the barstool.

Surprisingly, he gave a small smile before walking away. Since I would be there for a bit, I decided to order myself something to drink and something to snack on. About five minutes later, Harry and the band come on stage. I don’t know why I felt nervous, but my palms were starting to sweat and my stomach felt like it was in my throat.

The first song they performed was very upbeat and once again it didn’t take long to notice that Harry was made for being on the stage. Even though the stage was barely a few feet long, he made sure to take up every inch of it. I definitely wasn’t that kind of performer, but if Harry was the front man, I wouldn’t need to be. With each song they played, I started picturing myself up on that stage and trying to figure out where I would be needed.

I was so focused on my own thoughts, I had completely blanked out on the show, until I heard Harry talking to the crowd.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” He smiled. “I hope you’re enjoying our songs and having a groovy time. We don’t get to do this, if you don’t come to our shows, so thank you.”

The crowd cheered and hollered with their drinks in the air. I smiled a bit as I looked around.

“Now, we’re gonna do something a bit different tonight for the last song,” he said. “I want to bring a special guest up on stage.”

My head quickly snapped in the direction of the stage, I’m pretty sure I gave myself a bit of whiplash.

“We uh… have a friend in the crowd tonight and I’d like for her to come up here and perform for you all,” he said. “Y/N?”

My mouth drops as my eyes widen at the realization of why I’m really here. He had planned this all along. That sneaky bastard. I can’t believe he would set me up like this and without warning. If I could throw something at him, I would. But this is exactly what he wants. He wants me to freeze up, to run away, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. I down the remainder of my drink, jump down from my stool and grab my guitar. I walk up to the stage, feeling my body shake from both nerves and adrenaline. When I made it to the stage, popped open my case to retrieve my guitar, I could tell Harry was a little shocked.

I put my guitar over my shoulder and looked over at him, while Jasper brought out a second microphone.

“So, Harry, since this was your idea, do you have a song in mind?” I asked.

“Ladies, choice,” he smirked. “It’s only fair.”

“I assume you know Landslide?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked back at his band, who all nodded.

“Then let’s go with that, shall we?” I asked.

“Sounds good,” he said.

I looked out at the crowd as everyone’s eyes were staring at the stage. The bright lights of the stage were blinding me, but I could still feel everyone’s gaze on me. I took a deep breath before I started playing the opening chords on my guitar.

The audience got quiet, only a few murmurs, “I took my love and I took it down. Climbed a mountain and I turned around. And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills till the landslide brought me down, “I sang softly, nodding my head at Harry to take the next verse.

“Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life? Hmmmm,” Harry sang next.

“Well, I’ve been afraid of changing. Cause I’ve built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, even children get older and I’m getting older too,” we both sang together.

We continued on with the rest of the song, staring at each other as we did. I’m not sure what it was, but singing with him felt so natural, so easy.

I couldn’t help but feel something burning inside of me as we sang the final line together, “Oh, the landslide will bring it down.”

I strummed the end note on my guitar as the audience cheered the loudest they had the entire night. But it didn’t matter how loud they were because all I could hear was the beating of my heart as Harry and I remained where we were, our eyes never losing contact.

Welp, here it is! Finally. Let me know what you think and if you hav anything you want me to include for the next update! :)

#One Direction Imagines #harry styles imagines #Harry Styles Fics #Harry styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles AU #Harry Styles AU Series

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mouse-fantoms · 3 years

Text

The Discovery

Julie teaching Luke piano, boys finding out that they can touch Julie now, Ray finding out about the boys

In order to halt Luke from walking away Julie said the one thing she knew would get his attention.

“Come on... I can’t do this without you.”

He sighed. “...that is not fair.”

He had prefaced Julie before by saying how he would probably be terrible at playing piano. This was completely Alex and Reggie’s doing.

It had started the other day when the band was practicing. Alex made a tease at Luke about how he could have messed up a simple measure of music.

“Alright fine. You try!” He offered up his guitar in response.

He looked skeptical at the guitar. “You know how long it’s been since I’ve touched that.”

“Hey, I messed up too.” Reggie said to help Luke feel better.

“Thanks Reg.” He patted him on the back appreciated the sincerment.

“Yeah Luke,” Julie joined in on Alex’s teasing, “it’s not that difficult.”

“Then you try.” He once again offered up his guitar as a response.

She sat silent at the keyboard. “I would but I... I don’t know how.”

“Oh!” Reggie perked up. “It’s not too bad once you learn. Maybe you and I could-”

He was interrupted by hearing Alex’s obviously real cough. He looked and saw that he was looking between Julie and Luke and that’s when Reggie got the hint.

“Hey! Maybe Luke can teach you.”

“Yeah I guess if you want.”

“Sure.” She agreed. “I could teach you piano too.”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea.” Alex looked to Luke for him to take the offer.

“Sounds like a plan.” He smiled.

Now, the two were in the studio having their “learning-the-other’s-instrument” session. Luke’s piano learning had started but he became upset with himself and had gotten up from the piano bench in frustration.

“Come on.” She scooted to her left side, patting the bench for him to come sit. “Do you think I did good when I first played?”

“Well yeah,” he joined her back at the piano, “because you’re Julie fricken Molina.”

She rolled her eyes but appreciated the compliment. Any chance he had, he never missed the opportunity to compliment her.

“I told you that if you just give it some time you’ll get it. Now which one is A?” She started the teaching process by going over all the notes. Then, on her end of the piano, she played a simple pattern of notes and then had him replicate it on his end.

“Good!” She congratulated whenever he replicated the pattern right.

It didn’t take that long for the two to get lost in the music. The simple pattern of notes turned into a long pattern but Luke was still doing as told by replicating it on his end. She, out of habit, placed both hands on the piano.

She began playing and moving her hands down towards the right. He did the same. She was too busy watching her hands that she didn’t even realize she had moved so far down that she bumped into his hand. The piano went silent as the two realized their hands had met.

They shared a look into each other’s eyes attached with a smile. The two just looking sincerely at each other. Then, as if the thought entered their minds at the same time, their expressions turned to realization. Looking at their hands, back to each other, then their hands. Julie pulled her hand away suddenly. He did the same once she did.

“Did- we just- I could-“ She couldn’t find the words.

“I- I felt alive. I could- OWW!” He exclaimed in response to Julie jabbing him in the shoulder. “What was that for?!” He rubbed the spot he was now wounded in.

“You could feel that.” she said mesmerized.

“Yeah... I could.” He swallowed. “There could have been so many other ways to test it but no instead you had to cause injury.”

“Oh it was not that- OWW! HEY!”

“See?” He asked once also jabbing her in the arm.

This was either a great discovery or a bad one, guess it would depend on the day.

~~~

Of course they had to tell the boys of their new discovery. They band had just finished practicing.

“That was awesome!” Luke went to do the usually fist bumps to his band mates. He went to Alex and Reggie (as per usually) but then they watched as he went over to Julie. They watched as Julie returned his fist bump. Julie and Luke turned to them for a reaction.

“Did-” Alex cut himself off from being confused.

“Did you just...” Reggie picked up walking cautiously to Julie. Julie suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around her torso into a bear hug. “WE CAN TOUCH NOW!” He gasped practically bouncing up and down. She patted his arm letting him know she returned the hug.

“Reggie you’re kinda squeezing a lot there.”

“Right!” He released her. “Sorry, just excited.”

Julie gave a look to Alex, excepting him to also test if the claim was true. He stood up from his drums and made his way to her. In order to test it he gave her a simple poke on the arm.

“Oh hey, we can.”

“See Julie thats how you test it out. Not by causing injury!”

She rolled her eyes at Luke. The bassist and drummer got the impression that something had to have happened during learning the other’s instrument. They decided not to question but instead be happy of this little big discovery.

~~~

“You did awesome!” Luke repeated the phrase Julie heard just about on an everyday basis.

“Would you stop?” She asked with a laugh.

“Just want you to know how talented you are.” He looked down at the open hand he held out.

“It’s hard not to when you tell me everyday.” She smiled taking his hand. They stood at the beginning of the pathway to Julie’s front door, talking and holding hands.

She didn’t know why he insisted on walking her to her door even though the studio and it were so close by. Despite Alex’s teases of the boy’s kind gesture every time, he still would walk with her every time after the band would call it a day with practicing. Ever since the discovery, they never let her forget it. Although it was nice knowing that now there wouldn’t be any awkward ‘trying to hold hands but passing through instead’ moments.

Finally after some time, Julie had to give him the usual news that she had to go in for dinner. Which was cemented when Carlos opened the door.

“You’ll see each other tomorrow.” He rolled his eyes. “Just come in and eat.” He left the door open for her.

The pair chuckled and said their goodbye for the night. Julie came in and shut the door behind her and saw Carlos already sat at the table.

It was nice having at least someone in her family knowing about the boys. Of course, at the start Carlos was ever curious about them asking all kinds of questions. It wasn’t fun, however, when they couldn’t answer any of them because they themselves didn’t know the answer.

Julie saw her dad preparing the last of dinner in the kitchen and took her spot at the table.

~~~

“Thought you’d be here.” Alex said poofing in next to Reggie who was leaning against the top of the arm chair, where Ray sat in close proximity at the end of the couch. His knees bouncing from nerves.

“Yeah, how come you’re here? Willie busy?”

“No... he skated away after we hung out.” He corrected. “What’s his problem?”

“I don’t know, he’s been kinda like this the whole day.” He replied concerned.

“Ok I’m here.” the boys looked behind them to see Julie’s aunt come through the front door. “What was so important that you needed me to come over?” She joined him on the couch.

“Let’s say you have... suspicions.”

“Suspicions?”

“They could be nothing but they are suspicions.”

“What suspicions?”

“Suspicions of your child dating.”

Reggie whispered to Alex, “I think we’re intruding.”

“He’s probably talking about Carlos. Yeah we can-” Alex was interrupted when he heard Ray continue.

“I’ve just been seeing her hold hands with this boy before she comes in for dinner and I don’t know how to approach the conversation.”

“Before dinner?” Reggie said in realization who he was talking about.

“Hold hands?” Alex shared Reggie’s same realization.

“I’ve been trying to keep my space on it with her but it’s been a bit and I need to talk to her about it.” He asked for advice revolving around his teenager daughter.

“How does he even-”

“Don’t know but think we should tell them?” In a second Alex and Reggie poofed out and into the studio where Luke and Julie were.

“That’s not bad,” Luke said to Julie as they were at the piano together, “but I think was thinking something more like-“

“Sorry to interrupt!” Reggie said as him and Alex appeared at the side of the piano.

“Umm... this is new.” Julie said. They never would get interrupted during their writing sessions.

“Yeah... what’s up because we’re kind of in the middle of something.” He said as evident by the pencil he held and the journal that was open on the piano.

“Ray knows!” The pair looked confused and shocked at Alex’s quick statement. “Well, not about us. But he does know about Luke. But not the whole ghost-”

“Alex,” Luke stood up putting his hands on the blond’s shoulders, “take a breath, explain.”

He breathed in through his noise and began to explain. “Reggie and I overheard a conversation between Ray and Victoria. He wanted advice.”

“Advice?” Julie wondered.

“About his suspicions of... his daughter maybe dating.”

“Huh?” She asked.

“You are?” Luke asked at the same time.

“No! No I’m not!” She clearly answered.

“He’s apperently been seeing the hand holding before dinner.” Reggie finished for Alex.

“Wait how can-“

“Your guess is as good as ours. We just wanted to-”

“Julie.”

Her attention was caught to the studio doors behind opened.

“Dad!” She called. “What... are you doing here?”

“I want to talk to you.” He made his way over to the piano.

“Well at least we warned you.” Reggie said.

“About... what?” She asked even though she had a pretty good idea what this was about.

“You’ve been so busy lately with the band and everything, it seems like it’s been awhile since we’ve talked.”

“Sorry, we- I’ve,” she corrected herself immediately, “been having all these song ideas.”

He noticed the journal open on the piano. “Oh is this one-”

Luke, without thinking, closed it immediately once Ray tried to get a peek at what was written. Which got a scolding look from Julie.

“Did-” Ray said in confusion pointing to the now closed journal, “Did that just-”

“Could have been the wind.” She tried to play it off. “You know how the wind can be... being wind.”

He noticed that something was written on the cover, he tried to read what was written on it. Suddenly the journal, slid back on the piano and down to the bench landed next to Julie.

“Luk- Look the wind! That’s some very strong wind today.”

He gave a puzzled look. “Okay I came to talk to you about something else but clearly something else is going on.”

“What...?”

“Julie.” He folded his arms.

She sighed. “Ok...” she got up from the piano and walked passed him over to where the keyboard was still set up at.

The boys all exchanged looks to each other once picking up on what was about happeend. They filed to their respective instruments.

“Promise not freak out.” She readjusted the mic on the keyboard. “If you look around the room you’ll find that there is no equipment to project holograms.”

“...I guess.” Her dad did a small scan of the room and did in fact see no hologram projection equipment.

“I never told you because I didn’t want you to send me to Dr. Turner again.”

He raised an eyebrow wondering why she would think that. He saw her look to where the ladder that lead up to the loft was. The look was for... reasurance? She gave a nod and started to play the keys, her entrance of the song.

“Julie I don’t-” he was about to inform her that he didn’t need to hear a mini concert except was cut off when the boys’ enterance came. Right in front of him he saw the 3 boys from her band materialize. The sight made him jump.

He watched as Julie took the mic off it’s stand and go over to the middle of the boys. She jammed out with the guitarist and bassist while all their vocals blended together perfectly as a band. Once finishing the chorus she instructed them to continue playing.

“I think it’s time you properly meet the band.” She said as the boys played a soft beat in the background. She went from who was behind her by her right to left. “That’s Reggie, Alex and Luke.”

“Hi Ray!” Reggie smiled waving to the man.

“H-How?” He stuttered out.

“Remember how I came out screaming and you said it looked like I had seen a ghost? Well I saw three.”

“Musician spirits.” Alex corrected.

“That’s never gonna stick.” Luke turned his head to him.

“Maybe it will, you never know.”

“When I went to go through mom’s stuff I found a CD and decided to play it. When I did, that’s when these three showed up.”

“Yep and she’s been stuck with us ever since!” Reggie smiled.

She chuckled at what he said. “I’m the only one who can see them expect for when we play. They’re the ones who help me get back into in the music program.” She said sincerely to her dad.

“We’re originally from a band called Sunset Curve.” Luke explained. “In 1995, the night we were supposed to play the Orpheum, we ate some bad hot dogs.”

They realized that they should probably give him some time to process all the information that they told him.

“Sunset Curve...” Ray said after awhile, “why does that-“

“Trevor was their old band mate.” Julie helped.

“Also took all of Luke’s songs, said they were his, which he then got big and famous instead but yeah just gloss over that.” Alex added knowing that Julie probably didn’t want to get into it.

“...that explains the My Name is Luke song, thought it was different.”

“Yeah and my name is Luke. Sorry for closing the journal and moving it when you were trying to read what was in it.”

“So,” Ray turned to Julie, “this is why you’re in here all the time.” He always thought it was interesting the amount of time she would spend in the studio since he presumed it was just her.

“Luke and I write songs all the time. Plus, this is the only place where I can talk to them without it looking strange. Anywhere else it looks like I’m talking to air.”

“Well,” Reggie input, “technically- although maybe now we aren’t whenever we touch you.”

“Touch...” Ray remembered the original reason as to why he came into the studio in the first place. Suddenly, the boy in a beanie without sleeves loooked very familiar. Luke’s expression dropped once he saw Ray put it together.

“He knows.” Reggie felt Luke’s same feeling.

“Dad!” Julie came in between them once seeing her take a step towards the guitarist. “It’s not what you think! He’s a ghost.”

“Should I be offended?” He asked looking to his friends behind him. Which got him an elbow in the shoulder by Julie. “Oww!”

A puzzled expression came over Ray. “If he’s a ghost then how can you-”

“We found out a few weeks ago.” Alex started. “We can actually touch Julie now, some of us use that information more often than others.” Luke’s eyes went wide trying to tell him to shut up. “And apparently when we do, we can now be seen.”

“We don’t know if that’s how it works.” Reggie interjected.

“I assume that’s how it would be for all of us considering he was able to see Luke when they hold hands.”

“Wait how did you know that’s what I came out here to talk about?”

The two stayed silent.

“You heard my conversation with-”

“Only a little bit.” Reggie tried to make it sound less bad.

“...how often does that happen?” He looked to Julie wondering since she was the only one who could always see them.

“Whenever you’re home I... I’m around.” The bassist admitted.

“Oh... well...” Reggie was nervous for his reply, “next time you’re there just like me know.”

He smiled showing a sign that he understood.

“Now you-” Ray turned back to face Luke, who was currently cowering behind Julie.

“Dad like I told you before, it’s not what you think.”

“What else am I supposed to think when I see you holding hands with a boy at the end of our driveway before you come in for dinner?”

“...ok well when you put it like that-”

“I feel alive again whenever it happens.” Luke input. “Like when we play music but in a different way. It’s this-”

“Please do not get him started,” Alex rolled his eyes. “he’ll start going on his ‘I-love-Julie-Molina’ speech.” As soon as he said it he realized what it sounded like.

“Not like that!” Luke instantly corrected to save himself. “I mean if it’s fine with you if it could be like that because I mean I don’t have a problem with it I mean unless you do because then in that case then it’s-”

“Luke.” Julie said through her teeth to get him back on track.

“Right!” He remembered he had a point. “I have good intentions. Your daughter needs to remember how wicked talented she is. I promise...” he searched for a word to address him as, “sir.”

His eyes fell between all the boys. Luke, most nervous of all, could tell his eyes were kind and thankful. “This is going to take a bit to adjust to but I will.” He smiled which everyone else reflected. “I will be sure to tell your Tía that my assumption was just nothing so she doesn’t ask you about it.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” Julie laughed as her dad made his way to the door.

“Oh and boys,” his hand hovered over the door handle looking to them, “thank you.” He closed the doors behind him as he left.

He didn’t have to say what specifically but they already knew, well at least had a perfect guess. As the doors closed the low beat stopped as the boys stopped playing.

“I think that went well.” Alex said putting down his sticks.

“All things considered.” Reggie agreed.

“I didn’t get murdered so I classify that as a win.”

“...but you can’t-”

“You know what I mean.” Luke sighed cutting Reggie off.

“Yeah...” Julie turned behind her to face them, “I’d say that went better than expected.”

“...Is he normally like that whenever he sees you holding hands with anyone?” Luke asked to make himself feel better.

He noticed her head drop, “...I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t-”

“This is kinda the first time that it’s happened.”

“Oh, well I just assumed that it would have happened before considering how you’re-”

A loud sigh was heard from Alex.

“Alright, alright,” Luke stopped himself, “I won’t go on one of my ‘speeches’ as you call it. Like you don’t go on speeches about Willie?”

“That’s different. You guys ask about him.”

Reggie and her smiled at the two bickering. Eventually their banter would stop as they teased each other maybe then her and Luke could get back to working on a song.

~~~

When Luke walked her to her door later that night, it was different. The two talked and shared a laugh like they normally did.

“Come on,” they looked and saw a new sight, Ray at the front door, “you’ll see him tomorrow and your aunt’s eating with us tonight. Come in before she sees you laughing at air.”

She gave a final smile to the air and went to the open front door, leaning her back against it after she shut it. This was something that would take some time to adjust to, but she would. If he had to learn how to adjust to finding out the truth of her band then she could get used to him knowing. She could and she would.

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 years

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April 14: 2x15 The Trouble with Tribbles

Back to watching TOS on Wednesdays! We’ll see if I can keep this up because I do prefer it to Fridays.

Today’s episode: the Classic (tm) Trouble with Tribbles.

Starting out with a little test for Chekov lol. Just Chekov, his mentor, and his mentor-in-law.

My mom called Chekov “Kirk and Spock’s little project,” which I think is hilarious but also probably true. Only 22 years old and on the bridge crew? Private quiz by the top two people on the ship? Legit interpretation.

“It was just a little joke.” / “Extremely little, Ensign.” Classic Spock burn.

The Organian Peace Treaty--from Errand of Mercy??

I really do feel like Kirk is genuinely amused by Chekov.

You would never guess from this intro about tense diplomatic situations and number-one-top-priority-triple-red-alerts that this was going to be a crack-y episode about space bunnies.

Oh no, a fake red alert! Kirk is really angry now.

Kirk and Spock are very Married today.

STORAGE COMPARTMENTS?? StOrAgE cOmPaRtmEnTs?

WHEAT??

Do not try to imply that Spock doesn’t know things; he is contractually obligated to show off.

Canadian wheat.

Honestly, just let Kirk call it wheat.

Spock is using diplomacy to reign Kirk in. Sarek would be proud. And Spock would be insulted that Sarek is proud.

Kirk is very Sassy today.

Omg the waitresses have little wings.

Spock taking the wheat from behind his back and giving it to Kirk like a magician’s assistant.

I feel like Kirk is bitter about the wheat because it’s the one (1) thing he’s not a nerd about. And he’s from Iowa too!! He should know!

Uhura listening to the salesman; well she IS here to shop, after all.

Is it alive? Is it cute? Oh who am I kidding, I can see it’s cute!

Oh no the tribble is eating the grain.

Uhura is truly adorable.

I can’t believe she just made a joke about never getting any shore leave and here she is, back at her station again.

Can you even imagine AOS Kirk being tasked with protecting a bunch of grain? HE would make Iowa jokes.

And Spock is trying so hard not to laugh.

Tbh I have a real soft spot for these frustrated Kirk episodes. Poor, long-suffering Kirk. So much more serious than all of the nonsense going on around him.

I like this space station design.

Klingons on shore leave. They just want to have some fun. No bowling alleys on their ships!

Technical journal time for Scotty!

“I am immune to their effect....” Sure. What’s funny to me is that Kirk actually is immune to their effect. Truly at no point does he seem charmed or amused by or even interested in the tribbles, except in their capacity as Klingon detectors at the end

“I think they’re old enough [to be adopted].” Lol how can you tell?

One look from Spock reigns Kirk in. #spacehusbands

Oh, you noticed there are 11 tribbles instead of 1? How astute.

“What do you get when you feed a tribble too much?” / “A fat tribble.” This is ACTUAL DIALOGUE. Oh, Kirk.

Honestly McCoy is a medical doctor, so it kind of would make more sense for Spock to be doing these tribble experiments but he has his hands full with Kirk

Kirk is awfully insistent upon Scotty taking shore leave when he should very well remember what happened last time

“You’d think he’d be a vodka man.” And he is!

Klingons don’t understand Kirk at all. He IS a little soft <3

Where’s that post that’s like ‘the AOS writers just listened to this one Klingon speech about Kirk and wrote his character based on that?” I mean... not totally inaccurate.

Actually it is a potentially interesting speech. Is this really how his enemies see him based on his reputation? Or is it just, like, a bunch of generic insults you could apply to pretty much any captain of a group you didn’t like?

Poor Kirk, missing out on this fight scene.

Lol the drink joke. Does it make sense? No, but it’s funny all the same.

“Captain’s log: I am forced to cancel shore leave.”

Angry Daddy!Kirk and his unhelpful children. You’re ALL grounded!!

“No this is not off the record!” Not even gonna debate that Scotty.

This whole Kirk and Scotty scene deserves an Emmy.

Spones + Tribbles

The extra hilarious thing about Spock talking about the uselessness of the tribbles and Bones defending their cuteness as being an end in and of itself is that Spock DOES canonically like soft, pleasing animals. Even in this episode!!

The tribble wants to be captain.

Kirk collecting tribbles lmao.

“Don’t look at me, it’s the tribbles that are breeding.”

The tribbles are bisexual. Just like Captain Kirk. (Yes this is two different uses of the term that mean totally different things and I do NOT care I just like hearing the word “bisexual” in DeForest Kelley’s voice.)

I feel like Uhura must be so lonely.. Trying to talk to Spock about the moon. Meeting shape shifting aliens who become native Swahili speakers just for her. Trying to buy love in the form of small, cute animals.

The tribbles have been taken from their predator-filled environment. I am VERY curious about their native environment now. What eats tribbles?

“It’s you I take lightly.” Honestly this level of sass almost makes AOS Kirk seem IC.

“Licensed asteroid locator and prospector.” Brb changing careers.

“But he is after my grain!”

Kirk saying “au revoir” is funny on its face for how he echoes Cyrano what’s-his-face but also because it reminds me of Shatner saying “I’m from Canada, so I speak French.”

No, the tribbles got in his food! That is the last straw.

It’s hard to tell because it’s covered in tribbles, but Spock appears to have a very odd looking salad. (Or that large piece of fruit is a tribble, really hard to tell.)

Spock’s “fascinating” was so quiet.

“They’re into the machinery all right.” First, lol, and second, isn’t Scotty supposed to be in his room thinking about what he’s done?

You can really see that missing finger.

Gonna beam down some tribbles too.

And now to top off this bad day: the indignity of having a bunch of dead tribbles fall on his head. To wacky music.

“Gorged? On my grain?” It’s more likely than you think.

And like........you realize someone off set is just continuing to throw little puff balls at Shatner's head at regular intervals during this whole scene? One just bounced right off it.

And the answer to the tribble problem is literally “stop feeding them” which is so obvious that I assumed it was just harder than one would think not to feed a tribble. Since no one fed them. And they continued to eat.

I also love how Bones comes into his best friend literally buried in tribbles and doesn’t even blink.

Whereas Spock’s here with his mouth this thinnest possible line, trying not to laugh.

They like Vulcans! They have good taste.

Spock is definitely that type that has secret low self esteem so he builds himself up with confident comments at every opportunity.

“He’s a Klingon, Jim.”

Kirk REALLY likes threatening the Klingons with tribbles.

I feel like leaving Cyrano to single-handedly clean up the tribbles over 17 years is not a punishment that makes sense because like... must the station live with the tribbles until then? Also, where is he to put them?

I think they should be returned to their native habitat to be eaten by predators according to the natural cycle of life.

Are we to understand that SPOCK suggested beaming the tribbles on to the Klingon ship? Perhaps I have underestimated his prank war abilities.

I’ll be honest, this ep is very entertaining and for that reason one of my favorites, but I don’t know that it paints the Enterprise, and Kirk in particular, in the best light.

Like... I am really torn on Kirk’s treatment of the undersecretary. I know he often doesn’t much like administrators and diplomats and other people who don’t seem to have much RL experience, and certainly this Federation official got on his bad side immediately and understandably by misusing the red alert.

But... Kirk isn’t at all subtle about not liking him. I mean he literally says “I don’t like you” and that’s just objectively unprofessional, which he is not. The sassiness was way unsubtle, which could be funny, but it just didn’t seem IC.

I can almost justify it because of the red alert mix up--that’s everything Kirk hates: violating regulations, showing disrespect to him and his crew, uncalled for manipulation--and I think he has the right to be upset about it. But he continues holding this grudge for a long time. It feels like it’s just as much about not personally caring about the grain as about anything else. Like he’s dismissive about the grain because he personally has never heard of it. So obviously it’s not important.

That’s too much that conventional-wisdom arrogant, dumb Kirk for me.

I guess I just don’t understand, why so much hatred for the undersecretary? Because his two biggest sins were the red alert and employing a Klingon. But as I already said, I think Kirk’s ire is disproportionate to the first offense and no one knew about the Klingon until the end--because a tribble, not Kirk specifically, found him out.

Otherwise..this guy was right! The grain was important, losing it or having it sabotaged would have very bad consequences for the Federation, it is Kirk’s job to guard it, and he should do it well. He was also right that the Klingon threat was real!! He’d brought in the Klingon threat but he was still right about it existing. The Klingons did in fact sabotage the grain! And although we hear at the end that there was magically more grain out there... I don’t get how or from where.

Furthermore, he used the red alert specifically because he seemed to think Kirk wouldn’t rush over to protect the grain otherwise, and Kirk is so dismissive of this “just wheat” that he kinda proves the guy right!

Anyway, I can see the grains of this Kirk (lol pun not intended) in his general characterization, but it’s too over the top, to the point where it’s OOC. He does take his job, including the diplomatic aspects of it, very seriously, and I think an IC Kirk would protect the grain, and maybe be only occasionally, subtly sassy to the undersecretary.

But this was such a crack-y episode overall... it was like everyone was turned up to 11 and pushed slightly to the side.

It was a fun ep though with a lot of very classic scenes, and it’s another reminder that Spock likes soft, adorable animals.

I will admit that I actually do not think the tribbles are particularly cute. They kind of weird me out. They’re just lumps of fur.

Next is The Gamesters of Triskelion, which I vaguely remember as a decent but not great episode.

#the year 2021 #2021: star trek #star trek tos #2021: fandom thoughts

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bangcrizpychan · 4 years

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3 Things I Love Most: Strawberries, Books, and My Dandy Boy

☆Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader

☆Genre: FLUUUUFF, high school!au

☆Requested: Yes

☆Word count: 1.8k

☆Summary: A teeth-rotting story about two high school sweethearts that will make Willy Wonka shut down his factory.

The library is always quiet, probably because only a few goes there, just to study and stuff, but you? You were a regular(a/n: Cos I need a bag on the regular, okay sorry) and you treated this place like your own home. So there you were on your daily routine, reading your nth book, and to be honest, you're starting to think the librarian might adopt you for always being there. You were so immersed in your book that you didn't notice someone put a drink in front of you. The person cleared their throat and finally looked up, it was your boyfriend Seungmin. He gave you that adorable smile and pointed at his gift, it was a strawberry milk, your favorite.

"Are you crazy?! You can't bring food in here," you whispered and the latter just laughed, "I thought I would receive a 'thank you', not a scolding from my beautiful girlfriend." You blushed at the word beautiful, you started to panic when you felt your face starting to get red and you avoided Seungmin's stare.

"You should get used to me calling you beautiful, because you are".

"stop it," you grumbled and covered your scarlet face, heart beating faster than usual. Your current state made Seungmin chuckle, how can he not when you're being so cute?

You never imagined that someone like you could ever be in a relationship with someone like Seungmin, you were this shy bookworm, you only have one friend, and you're socially awkward. Your boyfriend on the other hand seems quiet at first, but he's actually really funny and loud, also, he's a part of this popular group at your school who, you may add, consists of absolutely stunning boys.

You only got close to him because your teacher chose him as your class partner last year, and you did have a lot in common, both of you like strawberries, you're clean freaks, and he keeps a journal like yours. Call it fate if you will.

"Hey y/n, do you like someone?" Seungmin asked as you continued to scribble down your chemistry notes. Both of you were in the library, you just influenced this boy to understand the comfort the library offers.

"Wh-why do you ask? D-do you like someone?" you stuttered, completely caught off-guard by his question, after spending time with him by studying together and even hanging out without talking about school, made you fall for him, hard.

"I do like someone actually," he admitted and put a finger on his chin as if he was thinking.

"oh," that was all you said, a part of you hopes that the girl he likes is you, but a part of you breaks when you think about him liking someone else.

"she must be really pretty then, and lucky," you said and played with your fingers, "she is really pretty, it's one of the reasons why I like her," and there goes your heart, you can't compete with someone that pretty. "why do you think she's lucky?" he questioned.

"Well, it's because you're a great guy and any girl will be lucky to have you. Have you tried confessing to her?"

He leaned back to his chair and smiled to himself, "I'm actually planning on confessing to her today," you felt tears threatening to fall from your eyes, "t-that's great, y-you're so brave S-seungmin-a," you lowered your head so he can't see your watering eyes.

"Apparently, she's a little dense too," he sighed, "completely naïve to the fact I'm talking about her," you looked up at him questioningly.

"W-what do you mean?"

"It's you y/n, the girl that I think is really pretty and I'd be lucky to have, is you".

You blinked your eyes too many times that it started to hurt, you mouth felt dry and you started to stutter 'what' 'why' 'really' that you didn't make sense at all.

"It's okay, I know that the person you like is me," he chuckled and you raised an eyebrow at him, "yeah, you're that obvious, y/n," you stiffled a laugh at your stupidity and at his cuteness.

"But I think it's better if you confirm whether I'm right or wrong," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I-I like you too, Seungmin," you finally confessed and you felt the world spinning around you, you cannot believe you just admitted your feelings. The library was too quiet and you were scared he might hear the pounding of your heart.

You ditched your homework and hung out with Seungmin the whole day, your first real date. It didn't stop there though, you did a lot of fun and sweet things together until he finally asked you to be his girlfriend, to which you gladly said yes.

You couldn't help but to smile at the memory, a blush creeping up to your cheeks, "What are you smiling at?" you noticed Seungmin already took a seat while you were busy reminiscing about the past.

"I just remembered when you confessed to me, and our relationship as a whole," you said and leaned over to peck his lips. He bit his lip to stop himself from smiling as his ears began to go red.

"Are you going to Chan hyung's party later?" he asked as you downed the strawberry milk. You wiped your mouth and shook your head, "I can't go Minnie, I still have a lot to arrange at my place," Seungmin nodded but it was obvious that he was kind of disappointed.

---------

You were at your new apartment, cleaning and organizing your stuff when your best friend and only friend, Yeri, suddenly entered your room, "why are you dressed up?" she was wearing a tight dress and bangles plus a face full of makeup.

"Why are you not dressed up?" she said and started to rummage around your suitcase. Since both of you are going to the same university anyway, you decided to get an apartment early so it won't be hard for you to adjust. Thankfully, both of your parents supported your decision and offered to pay your first five months of stay.

"I don't need to dress up, I'm not going anywhere," "you're not going to Chan's end of school party?!"

You stopped arranging your bookshelf and let out a heavy sigh, "you know I won't fit in there, and I can have fun here, I still have a lot of episodes to catch up with," you turned your back against her and shifted your attention back to your books.

"Oh come on, y/n! Loosen up! It's our last year of high school, you don't even need to drink, just be there and have fun!" she gripped your arm and jumped up and down like a child. You're not uptight, right? The definition of fun is different for each person, which in your dictionary, it means lying down in bed, binging on Netflix and bawling your eyes out when a sad scene appears. That's fun. Right?

"Plus! Your boyfriend is going to be there!" you stopped and thought about what you were going to do.

"Well, he kind of looked disappointed when I said I couldn't go to the party," Yeri nodded, urging you to continue, "I guess a break from Netflix wouldn't hurt".

Yeri squealed and hugged you, screaming 'thank you' in your ear while you just released a very unenthusiastic 'yay'.

-----

"I changed my mind, I'm going home," Yeri tutted and linked her arms with yours and basically dragged you towards the house. You were wearing denim shorts that was way too short for your liking and a crop top, you weren't completely uncomfortable, but you felt a little exposed because the outfit is so unlike you. Thankfully, you convinced her to only give you a light makeup but you had to wear heels in exchange.

You hated it. The music was too loud, people smelled like puke and alcohol, Why do people think this is fun? You thought. Yeri left you on the kitchen and went to find her boyfriend, "Wow, what a great friend I have."

"y/n?" someone called and you turned to the source of the sound, it was Hwang Hyunjin, one of your boyfriend's friend.

"Hey Hyunjin, have you seen Seungmin anywhere?" "Yeah, just stay here and I'll call him," and you were left alone again. You knew some of the guests and they were pretty surprised to see you at a party, you merely avoided conversations succefully and you took a lot of interest at a coffee maker.

Who was the genius that came up with the idea to make a machine that could easily ground coffee beans and create such a delicious beverage?

"You're not talking to the coffee maker out of boredom, are you?" you whipped your head and saw your boyfriend, who laughed at your wide-eyed look. He eyed you up and down, and you suddenly felt embarrassed, Seungmin noticed your discomfort and quickly discarded his jacket, he wrapped it around your waist and tied it tightly to the front so it won't fall out. You thanked him and gave him a peck on the cheek.

You met with his other clique of friends and surprisingly, they were all pretty nice and awesome. The DJ then suddenly called the crowd to the backyard and since you guys were already there, you were overwhelmed by the guests who either looked drunk or just wanna party.

You lost sight of Seungmin as you were being englufed by the huge crowd, someone accidentally pushed you and caused you to trip, and because you never wear heels in everyday basis, you fell. You grabbed your ankle and you were sure that a bruise will form tomorrow.

Seungmin saw you on the ground and came running towards you, "y/n! What happened?! Are you okay?!" "I'm fine Minnie, I just fell," he helped you get up but it was too painful so he carried you bridal style and went back inside the house. As he was carrying you, you took a moment to appreciate his face.

"You could take a picture if you like," he teased, and you quickly diverted your gaze, feeling embarrassed, "well, it's not my fault you're so good to look at," he chuckled at your cuteness and dropped you gently when you arrived at your destination.

You were at Chan's balcony, far from the crowd and the loud music, it was perfect. The view there was also amazing, with the moon shining so bright and your boyfriend massaging your sore ankle, you loved every second of it.

You stayed there in comfortable silence, enjoying your quiet time together.

"Hey y/n?", you looked at your boyfriend who stopped soothing the pain and was staring intently at you. You melted at his gaze but you mustered enough strength to release a small 'hmm' in response.

"I-I think I love you," you couldn't help the smile that was forming on your face. How can your boyfriend be so cute when he's confessing his love for you. You removed your feet from his touch and leaned over towards him.

"Minnie, there are three things I love most; strawberries, books, and you, my dandy boy."

You closed the gap between you and Seungmin, and at that moment, nothing else mattered but you and the thief you willingly gave your heart to.

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