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catgirlpuppy · 1 year

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YOU MEET IN A TAVERN

Paprika runs a tabletop game for her favorite people.

“Alright, is everyone ready?” With a round of nods from the table, Paprika begins:

“'In a dusty tavern on the edge of civilization, four unlikely heroes are about to meet. One day they will topple empires, but for now they are but simple adventurers slaying monsters for gold.'” Her eyes jump from player to player. “Now let’s go around clockwise and all describe our characters. Bru, you start.”

Bruma is sitting backwards in his chair, thick arms folded atop the backrest. The butch wolfgirl has been Paprika’s best friend since they were kids, growing up in their small hometown. I honestly don't think I would've survived that place if not for him. His eyes scan his character sheet. “My guy’s an orc druid named Bo. She’s got big tusks and big muscles.”

“Great! What’s she doing in the tavern?”

“Hmm… I have this power where I can make little plants grow. Can I make little flowers sprout from the table?”

Paprika smiles; Bruma is nothing if not a dedicated plant-mom. “That’s adorable. What kind of flowers?”

“Daisies.” Bruma nods. “They’re growing from the center of the table, like a bouquet.”

“I love it. The innkeeper seems to appreciate it, too. He comes over to talk to you, and as he does you catch the eye of Joule’s character.” The orange tabby nods to her gray-coated girlfriend. Joule is the latest addition to Paprika's life; the nerdy catgirl started as Paprika and Mocha’s cute roommate before she graduated to being their cute girlfriend. It's only been six months since that morning at the coffee shop, and it's hard to remember life without her.

Of all the people here, only Joule has played before. “Oh! So my character is a little goblin chick wearing all black. Her name is Stabitha Greenedge! She’s an assassin, and she’s got all sorts of knives strapped to her. Oh, and she’s hot as fuck—like, eyes-popping-out-of-head AWOOGA-hot. She’s seductive and dangerous, and she’s got a heart of gold, but she hides it beneath a mask of coldness and brutal efficiency. Ever since the death of her parents, she’s been searching for their killer in a mad quest for vengeance!”

“I love her already. What’s she doing when Bo makes eye contact?”

“Uhm, she’s probably sitting in the back corner, where she has a good view of the whole room. When she sees Bo, she thinks like, 'Oh, she seems interesting,' and she’ll get up and start walking over.”

“Alrighty, now we’ll put that conversation on the backburner for a second while we meet the other two.”

The seat to Joule’s left is empty; on the table in front of it is a little mobile chair, its six articulating legs folded into its sides. In the seat is a busty, six-inch tall woman in a fashionable top. Two red antennae part her black bangs. From the waist down, her tanned skin gives way to a segmented shrimp tail curled up beneath her.

Natalia has a side-gig as an online influencer, and Paprika has been a fan of hers since her follower count was only in the dozens. When the two of them learned they both lived in San Orchidia, they started hanging out in person, too. Now she's Paprika's girlfriend, and her followers are in the hundreds of thousands. Even though Joule and Mocha are only friends with the shrimpgirl, the three have bonded over their shared love of Paprika.

“Your turn, Nat!”

The shrimpgirl looks at her character sheet. I hope it’s the right size, thinks Paprika. That specialty print shop is supposed to be the best in town…

“Right! So her name is Camilla, and she’s a demon-blooded bard! She plays the guitar…”

“Nice,” nods Bruma.

“...and she’s wearing these poofy medieval-style shorts with red queen of hearts patterns, tucked into these black thigh-high leather boots that lace up the front. Her top has the same print with a low neckline and a leather cropped jacket with padded shoulders and silver spikes. She’s got huge tits, by the way…”

“Nice,” nods Joule.

“…and she likes to wear outfits that show them off. On her head she’s got this pale white beret that sits behind her red horns.” She turns to Paprika. “GM, is there a stage in the tavern? I think if there was, Camilla would be playing guitar for the crowd.”

“There is! What kind of song are you playing?”

“Ehh… a fun one? Like, a drinking song.”

“Nice, the whole taproom is stamping their feet to the tune, and a few patrons are even singing along.”

Paprika turns to the final player, Mocha. She and the half-cat, half-cowgirl met while skipping class in college, and they hit it off immediately. Now, the two of them have been together for almost a year. They hadn't expected to add Joule to the relationship, but it became obvious they all had feelings for each other. Now, the three of them are building a life together in their shared apartment. “And last but not least, Mocha’s up. Tell us about your character, Mo.”

The cowgirl straightens her character sheet, then adjusts her posture. How does she make herself look so flawless at all times?

“Well… I think I may be a bit unprepared. Everyone’s got so much to say about their characters! I didn’t think to go into that level of detail.”

“You don’t really need all of that fluff,” Natalia assures. “Joule and I are just extra like that.” Joule nods.

“Exactly,” Paprika agrees. “Whatever you have is enough. What’s their name?”

“Ah! I think I’m going to go with Madoka, like that show Joule was watching! It sounds similar to Mocha, too.”

“Cute! What class did you go with?”

“She’s a healer. But her goal is to…” she pauses, considering. “To open a cafe!”

“And what ancestry is she?”

“Minotaur.” replies the cowgirl.

Paprika smiles. This character’s starting to sound familiar. “Perfect. So, Madoka the healer minotaur, what are you doing here in the tavern?”

Mocha puts a finger to her lips, thoughtful. “She’s… ordering a coffee. Actually, she’s ordering four coffees, one for each of us.”

“Aww thanks Madoka.” “Yeah thanks!” “‘Preciate it.”

“In that case, the innkeeper isn’t just coming over to check out Bo’s flowers. He’s also got four mugs in his hand.”

“Stabitha sits at the table, grabs a drink, and toasts to Madoka.”

“Camilla grabs one too! She waves at Madoka and says, ‘Thanks for the drink, friend. Come over here and let’s all get down to business!'”

“Madoka goes to the table, and compliments Camilla’s style!”

The players engross themselves with their in-character conversation. Paprika watches them, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Whoa, hey babe, are you okay?”

“Love, what’s wrong? Am I not doing it right?”

“Why are you crying, Ricky?”

Her friends are surrounding her now. Joule holds her tight, purring next to Bruma. The wolf is hugging her with the ease of over a decade of familiarity; Mocha stands behind the chair and pats her head. Natalia has moved her chair up to Paprika’s paw where it rests on the table, and is hugging a finger.

How have I been so lucky? How did I get to be with so many amazing people?

She speaks through sobs. “I love you all so much.”

“We love you too,” coos Mocha with a kiss. “Now let’s help you calm down—your chair is starting to smoke.”

Burning cloth and leather waft into her nose. The orange tabby chokes out a laugh, and begins her breathing exercises. “Alright. Let’s get back to the game.”

***

I had a hard time getting started with this one. I knew I wanted to write a story with the framing device of a D&D game, but I didn’t know where to go with it. Once I’d written everyone’s character intros, I thought I could tie that into Paprika remembering how she met all her girlfriends (and Bruma!).

Also, setting name drop! I'm still workshopping the details of San Orchidia, so that's all the details im gonna share for now. Thanks for reading!

#lit #fursona #joule #mocha #paprika #natalia #bruma #meow #moo #woof #shimp #mermaid #disability #gay #poly #trans #furry #d&d #ttrpg #roleplaying game #my friends #fluff

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thatisscandalous · 3 years

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Panic Attack

Crutchie x Fem!reader

Part ⅓

Part 2

The Refuge. Every orphan’s nightmare in the streets of New York in 1899. Everyone tried to avoid getting caught; they didn’t want to know what would happen to them if they did get thrown into that place. Except, (Y/N) actually got thrown in there. It was worse than what anyone untouched by those horrors could ever imagine. There were rats, everywhere. Strangely, it was either always too cold or too hot, never in the middle. The beds were hardly beds, and there weren’t very many of them. There were multiple kids in a bed, and the beds were so small. They were starved, they didn’t get hardly any food. But that wasn’t the worst part. The children there were abused, beaten, every day. Some got it worse than others, depending on how they defended themselves and how ‘disrespectful’ they were being. They were whipped, punched, and even cut with knives by the wicked men that worked for the warden. Sometimes, the warden would step in. Very few kids escaped, lots of them dying, and those who didn’t pass away eventually got tossed into actual jail, for adults if they aged out. And really they were doing the kids a service by making them better able to slip through the bars on the windows.

(Y/N) was already slim and lanky to begin with, having not been fed much as a child. Of course, she got fed when she was with the newsies, but her build was set in stone. So, the complete lack of food made her to be nothing but skin and bones. She was small enough to slip through the bars of the window, landing on the ground with a thump. She hauled herself up and made her way to the lodging house, where she was warmly welcomed and cared for by the newsies. Crutchie stayed by her side all week.

A few weeks later, and Y/N is back in shape, visibly. She’s stopped showing signs of trauma, too, tucking it deep inside and refusing to show it to the newsies. But what they didn’t know was that the reason she took so long in the bathroom was because she cried, and her sleep was plagued with nightmares. She refused to show weakness, though, as she feared appearing weak being the last straw. To make herself feel a bit better, she decided to steal Race’s hat, wanting to have a good laugh.

“Where is my hat?” the boy bellowed, not being able to find the staple item of a newsboy outfit.

She laughed, hiding her face behind her own hat. The angered boy stomped around, looking for his hat. After ten or so minutes of watching him, she finally spoke up.

“Ey Racer! You’se lookin’ fa’ this?” she held the gray hat up, grinning cheekily.

“Ya little-” the boy cut himself off, and instead stormed over to her. “Seriously!” he yelled. “Seriously? You could’ve done it to anyone else or maybe not even have done it at all! What is ya problem?”

As Race yelled, he flailed his arms around. (Y/N)’s eyes grew wide, and she stepped back from the angry boy, flinching. Her eyes watered, and her throat burned. Her chest felt heavy, like something was blocking it, and she couldn’t breathe. Everything looked blurry, and she couldn’t hear the newsies talking to her. A wave of nausea passed through her, and she felt suddenly dizzy. Black dots clouded her vision, and she felt warm tears pouring out of her eyes. Her breathing became labored, and she knew that she was having a panic attack. She couldn’t focus on anything. All she knew was that she needed to get out, so she ran out the exit and into a bunk room, which conveniently happened to be her room. Crutchie was there, too. She didn’t notice him, though, as she was sort of amid a panic attack. She sat on the floor, shaking, crying, breathing heavily, and she sobbed, bringing her limbs towards her body. A hand touched her, and she flinched, before realizing that it was just Crutchie.

She tried to talk to him, but the lack of air sent her wheezing in the attempt.

“Shhh,” he consoled her. “It’s alright, (Y/N/N). You’se here, in the lodging house. You’se don’t gotta talk, it’s just me Crutchie. Can I touch you’se?” he asked.

She nodded, still struggling to come out of the panic attack. She knew that if she kept it up, she would faint, and that would not be good.

He hugged her gently, and she grabbed onto his shirt, squeezing it like her life depended on it.

“It’s alright, darling. You’se alright. We’se ain’t gonna hoit ya,” he whispered into her hair. “Just listen to me breathe, listen. Let’s breathe together, alright? Everything’s gonna be okay. Let’s breathe together,” he gingerly rubbed her back. He breathed, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, each lasting about four seconds. He whispered sweet nothings into (Y/N)’s hair, making sure that she was comfortable.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” he asked, when all that was left of her panic attack was hiccups.

“I stole Race’s hat. He got real mad, started yellin’ at me. He flailed his arms around. Crutchie, I thought he was gonna hit me. It’s stupid-” she explained, and was cut off by Crutchie.

“It’s not stupid. You’ve been exposed to traumas that no otha’ kid should eva hafta go through. It’s alright, perfectly normal,” he assured her.

“Thanks, Crutch. But now they all thinks I’m a wuss. What if they decide ta’ kick me out?” she looked up at him, more tears building in her eyes.

“They won’t, trust me,” he smiled.

“Those memories! The refuge was awful. Rats, no food, the abuse, tiny beds, multiple kids to a bed. Promise me, Crutchie, that you won’t ever get into the refuge?” she shuddered, holding out her pinky.

“I promise, (Y/N). Now why don’t we go to bed, let’s take a nap, yeah?” he coaxed her towards her bed, wrapping his pinky finger around hers.

“Alright,” she nodded.

“Alright,” he smiled back at her.

#newsies #jack Kelly #newsies x reader #crutchie x reader #the refuge #nightmares #panic attack #crutchie #crutchie morris

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tl-notes · 3 years

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Kobayashi’s Maid Dragon S2 Episode 3 Notes

Sparrows! Specifically the Eurasian tree sparrow, known in Japan as the suzume. You can just about see them all over Japan, all year long—but that doesn’t mean they aren’t a season word!

Depending on their depiction, they can be used as a season word for most times of the year, but a major one is “late spring,” as that’s when they’re out and about finding food for their baby birds. You can also see in the art they look a little floofy, indicative of the winter coat they haven’t fully shed yet; suzume in summer have a more sleek look. Here’s a shot of them from late summer last season:

And from closer to winter here↓. Quite fluffy.

As a quick refresher, 季語 kigo, or season words, are words/phrases/concepts used to give a sense of season to a haiku (or other poem/work of art), which is what part of what differentiates them from a senryuu. They were used pretty frequently in a lot of episodes last season, but a bit less so this time so far.

Where Lucoa and Ilulu are talking about a “right” here, the Japanese word is 資格 shikaku. While this usage is similar to “right” in English, the connotation is a little different as the word actually means more “qualification.”

Whereas a “right” is generally something you have innately in some sense (e.g. if you make art you automatically have copyright over it, you have human rights just for being human, etc.), a shikaku is something you earn (e.g. if you study and take a test for certification program and pass, you’re rewarded with a shikaku.)

Ilulu’s response to the question here is

そういうのは違う。小林がくれたあの言葉はなかったことにはできないから。

One way in which this differs from the English is that she’s not saying it would be right or wrong, but rather not the solution she’s looking for—because it would also mean undoing the words Kobayashi gave her, and that is something she doesn’t want to do, no matter what.

In contrast the English feels more like she thinks it would be wrong to do that, and even if she did it wouldn’t let her escape what Kobayashi said to her. (That would make more sense if Kobayashi had called her out on being evil, but that’s not really what went down.) An alternative wording might be something like:

“That wouldn’t solve anything. Besides, I don’t want to erase what Kobayashi gave me.”

This line is: 小林さんのようにはいかないなー

This is perhaps just my interpretation, but the English here sounds like Lucoa once convinced/helped Kobayashi in some fashion previously, is trying it again with Ilulu, but failing this time. (I don’t that’s ever happened though.)

In contrast, I think the Japanese is saying that Lucoa is trying to be like Kobayashi (e.g. when helping alleviate/solve Tohru’s various worries), and it’s not really working for her. I.e. “It’s not working like when Miss Kobayashi does it.”

Ilulu’s line about “I don’t want to ask Kobayashi about it because she’d probably solve it too easily" seems to support that reading; the dragons know Kobayashi as worries-solver.

The English here has Lucoa saying she’ll go talk to Kanna/Saikawa, and casually telling Ilulu to wait in the bathroom. But Lucoa doesn’t actually talk to the kids, and even if she was planning to, why would Ilulu waiting in the toilet do anything?

The answer is that Lucoa is actually telling Ilulu to talk (to an unspecified subject, assumed to be Saikawa, since she’s a human and thus someone Ilulu feels guilty about interacting with; Kanna she’s more fine with, as a dragon). And instead of “Go ahead and wait in the bathroom,” it’s more of a “Go wait in the bathroom and see what happens,” with the implication Lucoa is going to set something up.

And she does!

“I won’t lie about X, but Y is a different story.” This seems to imply she will still lie about Y? That seems a bit odd to me, especially when she just lied about X (those feelings) to Kanna/Saikawa minutes ago.

The Japanese says something a bit different though.

The core of the middle line here is 気持ちに嘘をつかない kimochi ni uso wo tsukanai. Because the に, the particle indicating “direction,” is attached unadorned to "feelings,” it is saying not “lying about X” but “lying to X.” This construction, to say one is lying to a feeling, is fairly common in Japanese media. It’s basically equivalent in English to lying to yourself about those feelings.

(for “lying about X” you’d change the に into a について or similar)

So basically she’s saying she won’t pretend, to herself at least, that she doesn’t want to play. But that’s a separate issue to whether she has, as she said before, the “right” to play after what she did.

You could maybe put it sort of like this:

“I won’t lie to myself about my feelings anymore. But that doesn’t mean I can act on them after what I did.”

I feel extremely silly even pointing this out, but the beam here is 尿意 nyoui, which is the urge to pee, not necessarily actually needing to pee. Hence why she seems to stop needing to as soon as she gets to the bathroom and walks straight back to the living room with Ilulu after they talk.

“Be deceived” here is not 騙される damasareru, lit. “be deceived,” but 騙し討ちにあう damashi-uchi ni au, which is like being hit by a sneak attack, being stabbed in the back, etc. In a fairly literal sense in this case too, as they’re talking about actual combat.

I mostly bring it up because it feels like there is not much difference between “being deceived” and “being tricked,” despite those being portrayed as polar opposites (deceived by hostile dragons, tricked by kind Kobayashi), so it might have been wise to differentiate them more in the translation.

E.g. perhaps “She had to change to avoid a knife in the back.” (though dragons don’t use knives, so maybe a claw?)

Another pretty minor point, but the “doesn’t know right from wrong” is 分別のない funbetsu no nai, where funbetsu means not so much “knowing right from wrong,” but a more encompassing sense of discretion and maturity.

I mostly bring this one up because it struck as me awkward to say Ilulu explicitly shouldn’t know right from wrong, since that would be going backward to her be okay destroying the city again. Instead it’s more that she shouldn’t need to feel weighed down by what’s “correct” or what she “should” do. One possible alt example:

“So go back to being a kid, and worry more about what you want to do than ought to do.”

(Lucoa also changes from a narrative tone to a more conversational tone at the end, in conjunction with the visual shift away from the flashback, so swapping the “she” to “you” might be appropriate.)

Note how Kanna shuffles the cards here. Depending on where you’re from, this may seem like an odd way of doing it (unless you watched Yugioh maybe). A lot of places with majority English speakers tend to use the overhand shuffle or riffle shuffle, but in Japan (and many other Asian countries) the most common shuffle is the one on display here, known as the Hindu shuffle.

~The More You Know~

The act of handing over a piece of candy like this has been used as imagery in other places in the show as well, though I’ll leave thinking about what it represents to you.

“Blanket” is futon, which is used to refer to both the “mattress” part and “blanket” part of a full futon, the traditional Japanese bedding (not the same thing as the sofa/couch mattress you might hear called a futon in some places).

I mostly mention because just “a blanket” kind of sounds like they’re going to leave them on the floor, but they’re actually going to get the equivalent of a guest mattress (+blanket) to put them to sleep in, as it’s late enough for this to turn into a sleepover.

Just as a bit of trivia, the word she uses for “onlooker” here is the same term as the “spectator faction.” In the manga Tohru interjects with “Aww, come on, why not Chaos faction instead?”

Also as a side note to this whole bit about Kobayashi wearing a maid outfit; recall this scene from early in season one, where Tohru found an outfit Kobayashi had bought and stuffed deep in a closet:

Relevant! Anyway, back to the actual episode now:

If you felt like this exchange felt a little disjointed, especially given Tohru’s tone of voice: the idea is that Lucoa is saying Tohru really goes to extremes when it comes to matters relating to Kobayashi, which is implying that it seems excessive to call so many people over for a relatively mild issue (not that she necessarily minds though). Tohru’s response is a slightly defensive “yeah I know, but thanks for coming over anyway.”

(They’re saying it in ways such that you have to read between the lines a bit though, so it may not come across as easily in a translation.)

The word for “cold” here is 水くさい mizu-kusai, basically meaning “watered down” (like beer etc.), and used frequently to refer to a person/actions/words that the speaker considers too reserved for the relationship they have with the other person.

So it’s similar to cold, but cold in the context of already warm relationship. If talking about a stranger or someone you don’t get along with normally, you shouldn’t use 水くさい; you can just say 冷たい tsumetai (lit. “cold”) or similar.

In this context you could probably have her say “No need to apologize, Kobayashi-san.”

Also I like how they swap around the honorifics (Miss, Lady, -san, -sama, etc.) based on the speaker (I think differentiating between dragons and native-Japanese-speaking humans?). I would say it works given the setting, but that’s just me.

The text there says “Money Street.” It’s probably obvious, but it’s based primarily on Monopoly, which is semi-popular in Japan (though not to the extent as say in the US).

Just some trivia, but the “sales pitch” for the game in the Japanese market is more that it’s an educational game that teaches investing and negotiation skills. (The origin of the game in general being an educational tool about exploitation of tenants by landlords, so not quite the same thing.)

Japan also has Momotarou Dentetsu (”Momotetsu”), which is a video game series that’s been around since the NES and is broadly similar to Monopoly rules-wise.

I just want to point out, amid all the riches, the bag of potato chips and other junk food in the back there.

Mini-trivia: the cardboard boxes in the background there seem to be a mix of the Amazon logo and the Seino Transportation logo, a Japanese shipping company with a kangaroo logo.

You probably noticed it without me pointing it out, but I enjoyed the fact Elma got corn starch* all around her mouth from the daifuku and then immediately got told to go play with the kids while the adults are talking.

*It may seem like powdered sugar if you’re used to donut holes, but daifuku, like most Japanese sweets (wagashi) generally, is not heavily sugared and not even particularly sweet by the standard of most “sweets” (which is part of the appeal for many). The skin of the daifuku is powdered with corn starch or similar simply to make it less sticky.

Kobayashi’s “do that” here is やろー yarou, which can mean “let’s do X” (which is a construction often used to tell/suggest someone to do something, without really including yourself in the “us”).

However in this case—especially given Kobayashi’s pronunciation and tone of voice—I think it’s actually a homophone of that, a form of 野郎 yarou, a word for “guy” with often negative connotations, like saying “son of a” or “asshole” etc.

The idea, I think, being that his immediate agreement of “Oooh, right I didn’t think about you wearing it,” comes with a heavy implication of “yeah you’re right, you couldn’t pull off something cute like that,” so she’s replying with a (mostly good-natured) “oh you fucker.”

This giant 完 kan means “the end,” used like “fin” at the end of a story or game etc. It’s also frequently used in “fake end” jokes. E.g. a show about a sentient zombie might start with the main character getting hit by a truck and dying immediately. The end! ...Except not, and they wake up as a zombie.

So here, the original goal was “make a maid outfit for Kobayashi to wear.” Then Georgie convinces Kobayashi that anything is a maid outfit as long as you are a maid at heart, so really, she’s already wearing one! The end! ...Except not.

Here’s some extra, probably needless, context on this “annoying”: it uses the word 面倒くさい mendokusai, which is basically used to describe something as annoying, a pain, etc. When used to describe a person like this, one of the ways it can be taken is specifically that the person is really fussy about details that others wouldn’t really care about—which describes Kobayashi about maids pretty well.

So just for clarity, it’s not necessarily “I became an annoying person who is a maid otaku,” and can be more of a “within the context of my maid otaku-ness I became annoying.” Just to kind of shed some light on the extent of her self-deprecation here.

The word Kobayashi uses for “helping with the housework” is 家事手伝い kaji-tetsudai, which is a noun* that means “a housework helper”... here, basically a more bland way for a native Japanese speaker to say maid.

Hence why Tohru reacts with “Oh, don’t call me that, call me a maid!”; Kobayashi went as far as to acknowledge her clothes as a maid outfit, but not quite as far as calling her maid outright. That’s our “annoying maid otaku” doing her thing.

*It can also be verbed.

These neighborhood notices, 回覧板 kairan-ban, ~lit. circular notice, are a method used by local governing organizations to distribute information or forms etc. For example, about an upcoming neighborhood event to pick up litter.

The general idea is that one person gets the notice, reads it, signs it, then goes and passes it to the next household in line. It saves paper versus sending everyone a thing in the mail, encourages interaction between neighbors, and is more likely to be read than a flyer/email, though some people consider them a pain and they generally feel a little dated.

The phrase for “piercing noise” is 劈く金切り音, tsunzaku kanakiri-on, ~lit. “ear-piercing sound of tearing metal.”*

“Was it that loud?” in the Japanese is a little different, そんな音してた?, meaning “was it making a sound like that?”

I’m mostly just bringing it up to say that the “Sasakibe’s cooking isn’t just loud, the sounds don’t even make sense” gag is alive and well this season.

*The “sound of tearing metal” phrase can also used idiomatically for some types of high pitched sounds, but I imagine it was chosen very deliberately here.

It’s probably obvious, but this is a reference to the music video of the OP for season one. You can see it on the official channel for the band, fhána, here.

The season two music video is here, and it seems to have decent English subtitles for the lyrics if you’re curious what they are.

The adjective here is ニヒル nihiru, an abbreviation of nihilistic. It can be used as actually “nihilistic” like in English, but it can also be used more colloquially to describe a person with dark vibes. It can almost be a compliment!

“Sleeping” here is 惰眠をむさぼる damin wo musaboru. Damin is not just sleep, but “worthless” sleep—not like a nap because you’re tired. Musaboru is a verb for ~gorging upon on something (often metaphorically, not just food).

The two words are somewhat frequently used together for, basically, lying around the house doing nothing all day. And not in a particularly flattering way, so it’s pretty funny for her to just be like “yeah I do that as a hobby I guess.”

It doesn’t mean the same thing, but it’d be like saying your hobby is loitering. Maybe could have translated as like “Hobbies? Vegetating.” or “Procrastinating?” or something, though I don’t know if those would have the right impact...

Kanna’s word for “idol” here is アイドル aidoru, i.e. idol in the pop culture sense.

Tohru’s word is 偶像 guuzou, or idol in the religious sense.

(Tohru swaps to the pop culture “idol” when she starts talking about Kobayashi though.)

Kanna’s “lost it” it here is 大変 taihen, a pretty common, almost generic word used as an intensifier (greatly, immensely, seriously, terribly, really, etc.) in both positive and negative ways. E.g. “thanks, you really saved me!” or “that was extremely rude.”

When used alone, like here, it usually implies something bad has happened, like something has befallen Tohru and/or she’s in some sort of trouble. Hence why Kobayashi immediately rushes home worried and bursts through the door like this—and loses her tension when she sees Tohru is fine, just... extreme(ly annoying to Kanna and Ilulu).

You could maybe say e.g. “Something’s wrong with Tohru!” to keep that double meaning open.

(”Lost it!” also makes sense for Kobayashi to be worried about, but the type of worry is somewhat different in that case; “oh god what is she going to do” vs. “oh god what happened to her.”)

The “lick” here is べろ bero, an onomatopoeia for licking that’s also used as slang for "tongue” (noun).

A bero chuu, as in the chorus here, is slang for a French kiss/deep kiss/tongue kiss.

~The More You Know~

The text here says “If your total assets are above one billion, proceed towards goal.”

Only billionaires can win...

Here is 私のものはカンナのもの, lit. “What’s mine is Kanna’s!”

This line is a reference to a catchphrase of the bully/antagonist in Doraemon, Gian: “What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is mine.”

His line, and character, is so well known it’s spawned the term “Gianism” to represent that sort of self-centered philosophy: everything is rightfully mine to take, even if you think you lay some claim over it.

It’s interesting that the inversion of Gianism, i.e. “what’s mine is yours,” is the only way Kanna and Saikawa are able to overcome the rules, beat the billionaire, and win the game.

Solidarity forever.

#maidragon #Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid #kobayashi-san chi no maid dragon #translation notes #anime

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platypanthewriter · 3 years

Text

The Devil Looks After His Own (Ch.1)

Little Steve Harrington is so lonely he tries summoning a demon with a ritual advertised on TV--but luckily, it doesn't work, and a buff, non-human nanny hired by his mom shows up minutes later. Years later, they're best friends, and Steve still doesn't know the truth. For @magniloquent-raven!

When his dad finally locked him out of the office, Steve spent the morning sitting in the hallway playing with his Legos. When his stomach growled, he knocked quietly, and his dad’s voice on the phone continued, so he went in the kitchen to forage. He found Cheez-its, and olives, and a tightly wrapped triangle of gooey cheese that tasted good in the middle, but had gross, chalky skin, so he licked the middle out and stuffed the rest down the side of the garbage.

He walked back into the front room and flipped the TV on, just to make some noise. “In the future,” came the syrupy voice of the man on the screen, “—we’ll have robots to be our helper-friends!” He chuckled to himself, leaning back in his leather chair, and folding his arms on his huge wooden desk. “But that doesn’t work for us now, I hear you say.”

The camera zoomed out, and he waved to a woman with curly hair and long fangs, sitting on the edge of his desk. She was wearing way less clothes than the man was, and Steve frowned, wondering whether she was cold. “Our summoning spells are assembled by real lawyers, and airtight!” the man said, and the woman nodded, smiling, and holding up a picture with a lot of numbers and lines. Steve squinted at it guiltily—he’d seen the man’s ads before, and he mostly remembered the picture, probably.

The helper-friend lady looked nice, he thought.

“Too good to be true? We even include offerings! Bat eyes, tears of the innocent—” he said, smiling and holding up jars, as ‘ethically sourced from internment facilities’ scrolled across the screen.

Steve frowned around, and then grabbed his LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, the most complex set he owned.

“Honey,” the man told the woman on screen, and she opened a can of soda, and poured it over her own head, still smiling. “Perfectly compliant,” he said. “And just wait, there’s more! Any purchase comes with a matching, complimentary summoning sigil for a protective home guardian! Just drip a drop of fluid—” he winked at the camera, and it showed something red splashing across the page, as his voice suddenly screamed “Augh-no! Don’t—”

Steve had already grabbed the remote and hit the fifteen-second replay, and began drawing out the picture. He hit it again and again, coloring in different colors, and wishing people in commercials didn’t always yell. He drew the circle carefully with a piece of thread from the long fringe on a throw-blanket he wasn’t allowed to mess up, then folded it carefully again, grimacing. He colored in the crosses with a different color so it looked nicer, and drew the little castle wall-looking-bit. He added a horse.

When it came time to drip fluid on it, he clicked the TV off, and got a juice box from the fridge, figuring apple juice was way less gross than blood, and it wouldn’t ruin his picture.

Steve stared at the picture, holding the juice box, and thinking. He imagined not eating alone. He imagined the nice lady smiling at his Legos—maybe she’d like the castle set, he thought, like in her picture. He’d just summon her for a little, he thought—just a few minutes, enough to make them both a PB&J.

His stomach growled—again—and he frowned at his dad’s office door, sighed, plonked the Camaro in the middle of the picture, and squeezed the juice box to spray over it all.

Nothing happened. Steve stared at the picture for a long moment, his eyes welling up with tears, and then kicked the couch. It felt like his foot broke from the impact, and he spun around in a circle, muttering a lot of words he wasn’t allowed to say in the house. He hopped into the kitchen, sniffling, and got out the peanut butter, jam, and a spoon—but instead of getting the bread, he sat on the floor in front of the sink.

He felt a sinking sensation of guilt as he stuck the spoon right into first the jam, and then the peanut butter, sticking the whole spoonful straight in his mouth and licking it off. Once he’d licked the spoon, he stuck it back in the jar, his heart pounding. The peanut butter was crunchy and salty, and the strawberry jam was stickily sweet. He wondered whether his mom would check the bread and know, and cried harder as he chewed, hugging his knees.

The floor in the front room creaked, and he startled so hard the spoon jabbed hard between his upper molars. He scrambled to his feet, fumbling the lids back on the jam and the peanut butter and shoving them under the sink, his heart thudding in his chest, but nobody came in.

The couch squeaked softly, and Steve edged to the doorway, the big spoon hanging forgotten from his mouth, to see a tall man with horns and no clothes at all lying across the couch, right up against the forbidden throw blanket. He raised his eyebrows—they had shiny jewelry in them—and breathed out smoke, indoors, as he looked up at Steve.

He then yelped and scrambled to fall with a thud over the back of the couch. “The fff—what are you doing here, kid,” came his voice, from behind the couch. “Where the—where on earth are your parents?!”

“Unhm,” said Steve, who hadn’t ever seen a man wear so much jewelry before, and wondered how much it hurt to have jewelry in your dick. He took the spoon out of his mouth. “Uh. Dad—dad is—in there,” he pointed vaguely toward his dad’s office, his eyes still fixed on the horns sticking up past the back of the couch. “Do...do you want me to...get him?”

The naked man popped up behind the couch again, looking kind of mad, and Steve stepped further back, watching the golden chains and jewels glint in the light from the window. “...you look very pretty,” Steve said politely, and the man groaned, grabbing the blanket as he stood, and wrapping it around his waist like a towel.

“Why the—why are you here,” he hissed, and Steve swallowed.

“I’ll go in my room,” he tried to say, but it came out kind of a weird whisper, and he realized he was starting to cry again, so he turned away, and the man scrambled from behind the couch.

“Wait! Kid,” he said, and Steve stopped to see him step and spin kind of gracefully around the glass coffee table without catching the blanket on it. All his nails were pointed, and painted black. “I’m sorry—” he cut off, staring down at Steve’s picture, and the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28.

“...what’s this,” he asked, like maybe he was mad again, and Steve wondered, suddenly, whether his mom had forgotten to lock the door, and the man was a naked burglar, looking for clothes to steal.

“I wanted to meet the TV lady,” Steve admitted, trying to take it, but the man snatched it up. “Um, are you—are you a burglar?”

“Am I—” the man glared at him—his eyes looked like fire, weirdly, the blue fire on the stove—but he didn’t look mad at Steve, yet, so Steve just bit his lips together. “...you drew this?” the horny man asked, more quietly, and Steve nodded. “Why?” he asked, and Steve knew he was in trouble—even if the man wasn’t supposed to be there, grownups always told each other when Steve did something dumb, like steal the TV man’s picture, which was the point Steve realized he was a stealer, a thief, like on TV. America’s Most Wanted, he thought, his heart pounding.

“Why draw this?” the man asked softly, crouching down, and Steve sniffled again, wiping his eyes.

“He said a friend would come,” he admitted, wondering whether kids had their own jail, or whether he’d be in the one with all the guys from movies, who chased teenagers with chainsaws and knives.

“You wanted a friend?” the man asked, but even softer, and Steve nodded, clenching his fingers in the sides of his pants.

“I didn’t mean to steal it,” he whispered. “I won’t do it again.”

“...okay,” the man said. “Don’t—don’t cry, it’s okay, are—are you okay?” he held his hands up like he was gonna touch Steve’s shoulders, then crossed his arms, frowning.

“I’m okay,” Steve nodded, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “...are, um,” he asked, cautiously, “—are you supposed to be...in here?”

“Uhhh,” said the man. “Definitely not naked, right?” he laughed, kinda nervously, Steve thought, and he snapped his fingers. The throw blanket turned into shiny fringed pants.

“Ohhh,” Steve whispered, impressed. “How’d you do that?”

“Oh,” the man said, grimacing. “Um, let’s talk about you summoning demons, okay?”

“...okay,” Steve nodded, sighing, but then a thought occurred to him. “Uh, do you want a PB&J?”

As they ate, the man spread Steve’s picture on the table, with the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28.

“So this is a circle to summon the demon Belial,” he said, low but kind of intense, like Steve was in trouble, but mostly he looked sort of worried.

Steve swallowed his bite of sandwich. “...it’s not exactly the same,” he pointed out, a little sulkily. “I added a horse.”

“...so you did,” said the man, turning it to look. “...look, summoning demons is very dangerous—”

“My dad says there aren’t bad demon summoners,” Steve told him. “He says there are bad plumbers, and bad strippers, but if you’re talking to somebody, and they summoned a demon, they must be good at it, because you’re talking to them, and—and he was on TV—”

“Strippers,” said the man weakly, and Steve realized he was being rude to his guest.

“I’m Steve,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“...Bel,” said the man, then, hurriedly, “Bill?”

“My mom likes Billy Idol. And Billy Joel,” Steve suggested, and the man nodded.

“That’s a normal name that I definitely have,” he nodded, grimacing, “—Billy, I’m Billy.”

Steve considered this.

“Are you listening, though? About demon-summoning? Even a lot of adults have a hard time with it—” Billy started again, holding Steve’s LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 to his chest like it was a present for him.

“The guy on TV said it was for a helper friend,” Steve told him, feeling a little guilty, but really not too much, since it hadn’t even worked.

“Steve,” Billy said, pressing his hands together over his mouth. The chain hooking his earring to the ring in his lip swayed and made a bell sound, and Steve stared at it, then remembered to nod. “Okay,” Billy said. “Could you promise me you won’t try to summon any more demons?”

“My dad says—” Steve started, again, but he cut off guiltily as Billy slumped back in his chair, groaning.

“Look,” Billy tried again, rubbing his face. “Summoning demons isn’t like inviting somebody over, okay? They have to come. Now imagine if someone called you up to—” he frowned down at himself, biting his lips with pointed teeth, and cleared his throat. “Uh,” he said, swallowing, and snapped his fingers with both hands—and all the jewelry vanished. Even his cool horns were gone, Steve realized, and he had clothes on, a little tiny black shirt that showed his belly button, and shiny plastic-y silver pants.

It was disappointing, but Steve looked into Billy’s flameless eyes and blunt-toothed smile and politely said “...you still look nice...I guess.” Billy snorted a laugh. “...I’ve never seen pants like that,” Steve offered, and Billy frowned down.

“What’s wrong with them?” he asked, then shook his head. “No, wait. Okay. What if you don’t want to go somewhere—”

“People make me go places all the time,” Steve said darkly, remembering the week before, when his mom had drug him in for a haircut that made him look like G.I. Joe. He rubbed his still-fuzzy head, glowering.

“Uh,” Billy said, trying not to smile, but spinning the tires on the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, and Steve was a little proud that he liked it so much. “Okay, a stranger. What if a stranger makes you go somewhere you don’t want to go?”

“That’s kidnapping,” Steve said, breathlessly, his eyes huge, and Billy pointed the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 at him.

“Yes. When you summon a demon, you’re kidnapping them, okay? And they can’t leave unless you let them go.”

“But the man on the TV said—” Steve whispered, then stopped, remembering how he’d made the almost-naked woman pour soda on her own head. Steve covered his mouth, suddenly realizing she might not have wanted to be almost-naked, maybe the man had taken her clothes off, like Steve with a doll. “Oh no,” he whispered. “I’m so glad it didn’t work!”

“Ah, yeeeah,” Billy said, grimacing.

“Um,” said Steve, reaching a hand over to retrieve his prize LEGO kit, and Billy snatched it back. Steve narrowed his eyes. “You were looking for my parents, but my dad didn’t say you were coming over, are you my mom’s friend?”

Billy winced, grimacing. “Where is she?”

“She’s at work,” Steve told him. “Daycare is too expensive, so over the summer I have to be good.”

“Wait, are there any grownups here?!” Billy asked, looking horrified, and Steve nodded, pointing down the hall again.

“My dad. He locks the door.”

“...What if you drown in the bathtub, or try to eat your own fingers, or something,” Billy breathed, and Steve glared at him.

“I’m not little,” he hissed, sliding forward in his chair a little, so his toes reached the floor. “I’m not a baby.”

“You don’t need a friend, you need a nanny,” said the recently smoking, horned, pierced and tattooed man before him. “And that’s, uh, that’s why your mom sent me.”

“...did she really send you?” Steve asked, narrowing his eyes, and Billy crossed his arms on the table, hugging Steve’s LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 against his chest.

“Yeah. Yeah, she did,” he said defiantly, and Steve relaxed a little, because Billy sounded like a teenager, just a bigger kid, really. “She said to put less peanut butter and jelly in your sandwiches,” he pointed to Steve’s overflowing PB&J-bread-burrito, looking smug, “—and just make another sandwich.”

Steve gasped, staring at him, and feeling absolutely betrayed. “You tricked me! Why’d you let me make it!”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell,” Billy said, and Steve’s heart was won.

Billy won it further when he scooted his plate aside to admire the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, and Steve drug him back to his room to show him the kits he had. “Come on,” he said, excited and rude, and Billy slowed way down, grimacing, and flickering back to his pretty bejeweled self, with horns.

“How about you ask if I wanna do things,” he said stiffly, slowing almost to a stop, and smoking more around the eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve nodded. “Sorry. Can I show you my room?”

“Or maybe, ‘Hey, Billy, want to see my room,’” Billy suggested, taking a deep breath.

“Okay,” Steve nodded. “Want to see my room?”

“Sure,” Billy nodded, relaxing like it was some big relief.

It occurred to Steve maybe it was. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I’ll be polite, I won’t get you fired.”

“Um, yeah,” Billy laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe don’t, uh, order me around.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, thinking hard about it, so he’d remember. “I won’t say ‘Billy, pick me upOOF—” he wheezed, as Billy yanked him into the air with one arm around his waist. “Sorry,” Steve wheezed, his feet kicking. “I-I’ll say Billy would you, sorry—”

“Shit! Damn it, I mean, uh, sorry,” Billy said, grimacing, and sat Steve back on his feet, straightening his clothes.

“I’ll remember,” Steve told him, wide-eyed, and then, because Billy looked guilty, “It’s okay.”

He tried hard to remember, and he usually did, because Billy got all tense and weird if Steve forgot, like he was trying to move underwater, and Steve had to yell “If you want! If you want!” as Billy grimly bit into the crunchy, burned eggs Steve had made.

“That was disgusting,” Billy told him, that time, and Steve couldn’t stop laughing, waving his hands.

“Okay, okay, can I—can I just tell you you can ignore me? I won’t tell, you can just—just do things if you want to—”

“...you sure about that?” Billy asked, snorting softly, like Steve might be kidding, and Steve nodded frantically.

“Yeah! Yes! Don’t, um, don’t eat any more eggshells, I’m sorry!”

“...okay,” Billy said, smiling down at him. “When am I not supposed to listen?”

“Uh,” said Steve, blinking at him. “I mean. You should—you should always listen—”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Billy said, rolling his eyes.

“No, you should!” Steve told him, grabbing Billy’s hand and tugging it. “What if something’s gonna hit you in the head? You should listen,” he nodded, thinking about it. “But once you listen, you should decide what you want to do.”

“What if I wanted to...eat you?” Billy asked him, reaching down to tickle Steve’s stomach, and Steve yelped, giggling.

“You won’t eat me,” Steve told him, leaning into Billy, to give him a hug. “You’re nice.”

Billy sighed, and hugged him back, tightly.

Billy was better at some things than other people, like clothes, Steve thought, because Billy was always pointing people’s outfits out, and explaining how they weren’t as good at picking them. He wasn’t as good at other things, though. Steve sat down one night to heated-up pasta sauce over Cheerios, and he didn’t want to say anything, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t right. Billy gave Steve’s mom a glass of water that was completely frozen because she said she wanted it iced, and when Steve’s dad told Billy to make burgers, Billy didn’t buy buns, or tomatoes, or anything, and he threw the meat in the pan until it caught fire.

Steve was pretty sure none of it was a joke, because Billy frowned between the glass and Steve’s mom, and grimaced over the burgers after Steve’s dad stomped away, and Steve caught him whispering into the phone to the neighbor, hiding half in the fridge like nobody was gonna notice it was open.

“Billy,” he whispered, and Billy jumped, as Steve crouched down next to him. The breeze from the inside of the fridge was nice, but it hardened all Steve’s suspicions, because no grown-up had ever left the fridge open, he was pretty sure.

“Yeah,” Billy muttered back, guiltily.

“...how old’re you,” Steve asked, and Billy flinched.

“Older than you,” he shot back, and that Steve was willing to give him, because Billy wasn’t human, and some things lived different amounts of time, like trees.

“Are you a kid too?” Steve asked, and Billy glared at him.

“No,” he said defiantly, and Steve nodded slowly, raising his eyebrows, until Billy groaned, deflating, sitting against the edge of the fridge and letting his legs sprawl out across the floor. “Look, I’m trying—”

“I won’t tell,” Steve said, reaching out and squeezing Billy’s hand. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“...teenager...maybe,” Billy admitted, grimacing.

“Okay,” Steve said, nodding. “Billy,” he said, trying to sound like a parent, or a teacher, and Billy’s shoulders hunched. “You need to tell me you need help,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips. “I can help with things like human food.”

“You are human food,” Billy said, fondly, yanking Steve into a hug.

Most of the people that did magic like Billy ate kids occasionally, Steve found out, as he was reading his Dictionary of the Magic Realms that night under the covers, by flashlight. Maybe they were mean kids, Steve thought, or maybe Billy was just way nicer. “Are you a fairy?” he asked the next morning, and Billy laughed.

“Depends on what you mean,” he said, grinning over. “Is that slang for—”

“Can you fly,” Steve interrupted, because that seemed the most important, and Billy cocked his head.

“...actually, I probably could,” he said, considering. “Not like you mean, though. I don’t have secret butterfly wings, or anything.”

“Oh,” Steve said, because he'd been privately imagining Billy as they’d first met, with the jewelry and the horns and wings, and it seemed to fit.

“...do you want me to have wings?” Billy asked, sitting aside the dish he was drying, and bending down sideways to try and meet Steve’s eyes. “I can change form—”

“No!” Steve told him, waving his hands. “No, I know you like looking like...that.”

“...that,” Billy said, raising his eyebrows as he looked down at himself. “You saying I need to do better?”

“You’re just—normal,” Steve said quickly. “Instead of pretty.”

“Instead of,” Billy growled.

“I mean,” Steve yelped, waving his hands. “Pretty with all the jewelry! And the horns.”

“I was gonna say,” Billy said, reddening. “If you’re saying I’m not pretty—”

“Of course you’re pretty,” Steve said, rolling his eyes and sighing, but grinning, too. He patted Billy’s shoulder.

“Well,” Billy said, clearing his throat, and turning back to the dishes. “All right, then.”

A few days later, Billy was moving the kettle off the flame for hot chocolate, and a big gout of steam belched up over his arm, which shimmered into all over scales. Steve yelped and grabbed him, yanking him over to the sink, and ran water over it, all the while panicking.

“Billy, are you a mermaid?!” he asked, spraying Billy’s arm, and trying not to cry. “Are you a mermaid, are you okay, are hot things bad for mermaids—”

“I’m okay,” Billy told him, turning off the water, and hugging him close. “I’m not a mermaid, Stevie, I’m not hurt.”

“O-okay,” Steve gasped, grabbing Billy’s arm to run his fingers over it. “You—you’re okay,” he whispered, leaning into Billy’s hugs. “...are you a...lizard? Or a snake?”

“Nope, not exactly,” Billy said, snorting a laugh, and Steve groaned.

The rest of my Harringrove works

#Harringrove #Demon!Billy #Summoner!Steve #Unintentionally??#Kind of?!#BFFs #Kid!fic #Comedy

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cathrrrine · 3 years

Text

RUN | Pietro x Reader

Originally from my Wattpad

CHAPTER 17 - SPEED DIAL

———

"I'm about to do something really stupid." Steve put his hands on his hips and stared at the entrance before him, as if he was still contemplating whether or not it was worth it.

"What is it?" Pietro followed the Captain's gaze, both of them eyeing the doorway. It took him a while to figure it out, but once he connected Steve's nervous stance to his reason to standing in front of the room where Y/N was being held, he felt stupid for not knowing immediately. "Oh. That's very stupid."

"I know."

"You're really going in there?"

"Seems like it."

Pietro wondered if he should explain his own situation with Y/N to Steve, but decided against it. There was enough drama going on for the man, especially when the possible key to unlocking his best friend's whereabouts were just a few feet away. Steve could live without knowing Pietro's dilemma.

"Good luck then." He gave the Captain a brief nod, smirking a little when Steve did nothing in response. Pietro watched as he entered the passcode for the door to open, backing away as Steve began to enter.

———

Just as I thought I would be alone again — and this time more willingly — someone else stepped inside. The familiar muscular figure strode across the room, his boots clacking on the floor as if to announce his arrival.

I sighed and stayed laying down on the bed, not bothering to sit up and give him any sort of greeting. First the speedster, now him? What was he going to do, tell me the values of a great American?

"Jokes on you, I'm not even American." I mumbled to myself in response to my mental rambling.

"Huh?"

I groaned, putting an arm over my eyes to block the light. "What are you doing here, Captain?"

He cleared his throat. I could hear him shifting from one foot to the other in discomfort. Was he...nervous? That was definitely intriguing. What the hell is wrong with these Avengers? They were more complicated than I thought they would be.

"I came here to ask you for something."

I put down the arm I had over my eyes and shifted my weight onto my elbows, propping myself up so I could get a better look at my uninvited visitor. "Another deal?"

"Something like that." His lips stretched out into a thin line, his arms raising from his sides so he could cross them in front of his chest. "It's an offer. If you want it, take it. If you don't-"

"You'll kill me."

The Captain's eyebrows met together furiously, "That wasn't what I was going to say. If you don't want to take my offer, then it's up to Fury to decide what to do with you."

"So...no difference, then. He'll kill me."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to." I shrugged. I swung my legs over the bed and stood up so I was exactly across him. "So, what's this life-changing opportunity you've got in store?"

His shoulders immediately sagged, telling me how much he dreaded what he was going to say. I stood in anticipation, slowly taking small steps forward.

"You knew him." Steve blinked. "You knew Bucky."

"Who?"

"James." He sighed again, like the weight of the world was sitting on his windpipe. "Or...the Winter Sold-"

"Stop right there." I put a hand up, my palm facing the son of a bitch. "If I hear that name one more time, I'll rip your organs out through your mouth and shove them back in through your ass."

I hated how he said his name, his actual name, with such fondness and nonchalance like he was anything more than a torture machine who made my life a living hell. Steve tilted his head, stretching his neck. I could see the muscles of his jaw flexing even from where I was standing. It was almost impossible how his teeth were still intact to this day, with all that tension in his jaw and the stress-grinding.

"I just need you to help me track him down."

I couldn't help but chuckle. Hell, laugh even. That finally broke the dam that I tried to hold up and all hell was breaking loose right this moment. Steve Rogers, everybody! The world's greatest comedian! Round of applause!

"Track him down? You think I have his phone number on speed dial? What do you want me to do? Call him up and say, 'Hey, bestie! What's up? Wanna go shopping for knives? Maybe kill some people on the way? Oh, how about we get some ice cream and reminisce the time when you tried to kill me but I ran away and I've been running ever since? Good times!' HA!"

"I'm not asking you to make friendship bracelets, I'm just asking for information that only you could possibly know."

"Are you crazy, Rogers?" I yelled so loudly that my breath fogged up the glass I was basically pressed up upon. "You'll never track him down. He's under Hydra's thumb 24/7. Even if we do manage to get to him, what do you think will happen? You're the face of the enemy. He'll kill you on the spot. He's not your best friend anymore, Rogers. He's a weapon bound to blow up in your face."

"Wait, what?" He uncrossed his arms and replaced them on his hips. He pointed to me, "Why do you think Hydra's still watching him?"

"I said don't make me say his name again-"

"No, no- you think he's-" he cut off abruptly. "You don't know, do you?"

The hand he had been using to point at me moved towards his face to stroke his chin. "The Winter Soldier escaped Hydra not too long ago, when S.H.I.E.L.D was compromised."

What? I felt my body go numb. It was like the world was caving in on me, trying to crush my body with it's cruel, cruel walls. How did I not know that? "What? No. You're lying."

He shook his head, "That's why I want you to help me track him down. I can't leave him alone out there."

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. Hearing Steve talk about him like he was referring to a friend, humanising him...felt so wrong and disgusting that it left a bad taste in my mouth. I wanted to throw up.

"No."

I walked away from the front of the cell and turned my back to him, wanting nothing more to do with the conversation. Everything I thought was true turned out to be a rotting corpse of a lie. There was nothing else to revive, not even the remains of hell that I blew away a lifetime ago. There was no phoenix that would suddenly rise. Just cold, painful and numbing reality, hitting me in the face.

I should be glad, right? The knowledge that he was no longer who he used to be should be enough to send me dancing for joy and painting the town or whatever it is that happy, liberated people do. But instead I was scared. He was out there, blending in with civilians as if he wasn't a total monster. I was confused too—the sole reason I'd handed myself over to S.H.I.E.L.D was because I was running from him.

Then, the gears of my brain suddenly hit the brakes.

"You're lying." I said, with my back still turned to the glass. "He's not out there. He's still with them. I heard him, the day Hydra raided this place!"

"I thought you might bring that up. I'm not lying, Y/N."

Something told me I should turn around, and so I did. He was taking something out of his pocket. A small, metallic black, oval device that resembled an earpiece, with a wire attached to it. At the end of the wire was a tiny cube. "We found this on one of the Hydra agents' bodies, it was attached to his ear and his neck. We examined it immediately."

He held the thing up for me to see, the cube dangling from the wire. "Advanced technology."

He didn't need to say the words. I already knew what was coming.

"A voice modifier."

I chewed the inside of my cheek to keep myself from doing something stupid–the range was vast–and took a deep breath. Today was a day of revelations, it seemed. This cell is a feelings brothel.

"They knew, didn't they?" I scoffed, smirking despite my own conscience. "They wanted me to be scared."

Steve shoved the horror device back into his pocket, nodding once and staying silent, a gesture for me to continue. I dared myself to meet his eyes.

"This doesn't change anything." I heard myself saying. "I'm not helping you find him either way."

He sighed, shaking his head as if in disbelief. "I thought you might say that."

I didn't know what to say. But then suddenly, I heard the sound of a click and felt a sudden rush of air behind me. I whipped my head around to see the door hanging slightly ajar.

"Advanced technology."

Life was getting stranger by the second for me. I was just starting to figure out all the ways I could escape seamlessly, but then he stopped me.

"I'm not done yet." What now? "You can get out of here, on one condition. You help me find him. Then you're free to go wherever you want to go after."

Deals after deals after deals. My life was a joke. Everything I do involves a gamble.

"That's it?"

"Listen here, Y/N." The Captain's voice dropped an octave, a threat waiting to ignite. "I'm doing this on my own accord. If you help me, I'll be more than glad to return the favour, but only if you swear not to show up on anyone's radar for at least a year or they'll find you. Do this and you can forget about everything. I'm offering you a clean slate."

It was the negotiation of the century. But I sensed there was more. "And?"

"And, if you so much as step a foot out of line, I won't be the law abiding Captain you know me to be, kid."

I smirked. "Huh. I like you more like this, Cap. Suits you."

"So, what's it gonna be?"

I let the thought of it marinate for a while, weighing all the pros and cons. Pros? I get to get out of here and forget about ever 'pledging my loyalty' to this freak show. Cons? I had to actively and consciously search for the man whom I'd been running from forever.

"Deal. But I have one condition."

He raised an eyebrow lazily, as if surprised but also not at the same time. I was becoming way too predictable for these people. "What would that be?"

I couldn't go alone, not with just the walking flag, and I still had some unanswered questions to deal with. Plus, truth be told, I had a feeling he was the only person I could truly trust, especially on a rogue mission.

"Pietro has to come along."

#run pietro x reader #pietro maximoff x y/n #pietro maximoff x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #pietro maximoff #marvel #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #marvel imagines #marvel x reader

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anothersadsimp · 3 years

Text

Mechanics

Din Djarin x Mechanics! reader

Words: 28-something I forgot

Din was not a people person, and it showed. No it wasn’t the fact that he was covered in beskar and that intimidated everyone from ever approaching him. It was the silence that came with him, and how he was always a man of few words.

You remember when you first met the Manalorian, his ship had touched down where you were working as a mechanic at the time. His ship looked like shit to put it lightly. There were blaster holes and burns, wires that could be seen, and the transparisteel had some cracks breaking out. You weren't quite expecting a man covered in pure, pristine looking beskar to walk down the ramp of the ship. Immediately your interest was piqued by the traveler.

You crossed your arms over your chest with a stern look upon your face. He was a bit taken back at how you stood there unphased by his presence. If anything you looked a little pissed with your furrowed brows and small pout.

“Your ship looks like a piece of shit.” You blatantly state nodding towards it.

He stood there looking at you through the visor, you don’t know if he was trying to intimidate you or what, but you refused to break in your own shop. Little did you know under the helmet his brows were furrowed in confusion, mouth just slightly open. It takes a moment for him to compose himself.

“I have credits.” He responds.

Your brows unfurrow and raise in amusement. “There's not enough credits in the galaxy to get this thing to work like it needs to.”

“Just the necessities.” He says as he walks up to place some credits in your hand.

You look down and sigh, “Ok then.”

After that he walked off to the exit to wherever he wanted on the dustball of a planet you live on. You shout out for your clumsy R5 unit to start your music so you could get to work on the Mandalorians ship.

After a few days of TLC the ship looked decent. Not to where you wanted it but it worked. The Mandalorian walked in with an unconscious Trandoshan being dragged behind him. You were off to the side as he dragged him up into his ship, when a blaster bolt shot passed him. When you turn to see where it came from there’s another Trandoshan standing there snarling.

You whip out a small blaster you had in the back of the waistband of your pants and start firing towards him. The Mandalorian had also started blasting, taking cover behind one of his crates. As the Trandoshan was focused on him you were able to sneak out a side door of your shop. From there you flanked him, and kicked the back of his knee before hitting him over the head with your blaster. You shove his unconscious form to the dirty ground before holstering your blaster once again.

The Mandalorian slowly stood up from behind his cover to see you standing over him. He had barely caught you twirling your blaster in your hand before you put it back into your waistband. He was shocked as he started walking down the ramp to bind him.

He lugged him up to his ship to freeze him into carbonite as well. He walked back down, his cape trailing behind him and he stopped in front of you.

“Thank you.” He said.

“For what saving your ass, or saving your ship's ass?” You quip.

“Both.” He states.

You were about to say something when a small spark coming from his ship caught your attention. You walk over to see it’s a panel just inside of the cargo hold, a panel you had just worked on.

“I just fixed this mother-” You grumbled the last bit of it and kicked the brick of carbonite that held the shooter.

Din doesn’t remember the last time he has been intrigued by someone. You showed no signs of being intimidated by him, to the point where you're a smartass to him. You had managed to flank and knock out the brother of the bounty that he just caught, that also happened to be a Trandoshan. Then you walked up and into his ship as if you owned it, kicking a thing of his carbonite. You were tough, skilled, and someone that clearly knows how to handle things.

“I could use another pair of hands.” He offers.

You turn your head up, looking at where he stands a little further down the ramp, “Are you offering me a job?”

He nods, “I can pay handsomely.”

Your arms are crossed and you shift your weight onto your other foot. You debate a little bit in your head before you look over to see R5 running into things as they put some tools away.

“What would I do?” You ask, taking another moment before you turn back to him.

“Keep the Razor Crest in working condition.”

You chuckle, “That’s gonna be hard considering the state it came in isn't it?”

He says nothing as you look back at R5 and sigh. You agree to go with him, saying you have some things to take care of before you take off. You sent your R5 unit over to a friend and grabbed a few of your belongings before following the Mandalorian onto his ship.

Your assumption of it being hard to keep the Razor Crest in tip top shape was correct. You’ve never been shot at or chased so many times before, especially now in deep space.

You were currently under the control panel trying to reroute power from one part of the ship to power up the hyperdrive enough to get you to a nearby planet. Above you Din, as you have come to learn, was trying his best to lose the people who were currently shooting at you.

“Anytime soon would be nice.” He rasps out.

“Well maybe if you flew better I’d be done already!” You shout.

You mess around with a few more wires before shouting “done”. At that Din hits the hyperdrive and yall begin the jump to hyperspace. You move to start getting yourself up when the actual jump happened. Din reaches out and steadys you with his hand on your waist so you don’t fall. You move away from him to plop down in the co-pilot's seat taking in a deep breath.

“You need to land somewhere. It’s not gonna last very long.” You warn.

He nods as he messes with some buttons setting a course for the nearest habitable planet.

“You should get some rest while you can.” He says.

You nod your head, agreeing with him for once before leaning back onto the seat. Your head lulls to the side, and you cross your arms over your chest. It takes a minute before you're able to fall into any sort of slumber.

You wake up to the Razor Crest jolting, and through the trasparasteel you can see that it's light outside. You looked out to see that Din hand landed you both near a cliff, and below into the valley was a town. You hoped that they had something that would help you fix the ship whether it was a whole part, or just some extra tools.

“Come on, let's see if they have anything helpful.” His voice monotone as ever has he stands up.

You stretch in your seat before getting up yourself. You both make your way down to the cargo area, gabbing your small blaster and some knives that you hide on yourself. You squint at the bright light that floods in from the ramp being lowered.

It took awhile for the two of you to reach the town, bustling with kids running through the pathways. You can feel the stares of the adults as the both of you make your way down the main path. You find what seems to be a scrap shop and nod in the direction. He silently follows you inside the disorganized shop where a grime-covered Twi’lek was muttering at a broken motor.

“Can I help you?” He grumbles.

“We need some things to repair our ship.” You explain.

“What do you need?” He looks up at you expectantly.

You start rambling some parts and tools you’ll need to fix up the Razer Crest. Meanwhile the Mandalorian is standing behind you not saying a word. He was entranced by the way you were listing off everything you needed. Even he didn’t know everything you were saying; he found that attractive. The way you held yourself in confidence in front of this rather large Twi’lek man, stone cold face and tone had sent him reeling.

You turned back towards Mando, “Ok he has some of the things I need. We should be good.”

“Some?” He questions as he tilts his head at you.

“No one in this little town is gonna have everything we need. I’ll just have to improvise.” You say the last part with a sly smile on your lips.

Din suppresses a groan at your cheeky, but optimistic attitude about the situation. You turn back around when you hear the Twi’lek man come back with a large container full of things. You say a quick ‘thank you’ with your dazzling smile and put a generous amount of credits in his hand.

You lift up the large crate with a small grunt and start heading your way towards the exit. Din watches you leave and starts to follow you when you nod your head for him to follow you.

“We should get some food while we’re here. It’d be a nice change from what we usually have.” You chirp.

He stays silent as you walk up to a small little stall with fresh produce from the local farms on the planet. You pick out a few of the fruits they have and hand them to Din to put in the little rucksack he has. After you picked out what you wanted he handed the owner some credits and you both started making your way back to the Razor Crest.

When you arrive you set the crate full of equipment down in the cargo bay and make your way to grab one of the fruits you had bought and sit down. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow to the surrounding area.

“I’ll fix her up in the morning. Can’t work in the dark.” You say while leaning back, taking a bite out of the fruit you grabbed. The Mandalorian gives a brief nod before walking past you to another part of his ship.

The next morning you had woken up before just before the sun rose and decided to get ready for a full day of work. You stripped down to your tank, knowing you’d get all hot and sweaty from working. You quickly grabbed a small bite to eat, and set out to get all of your equipment out so you can start working as soon as the sun was up.

When Din had woken up and couldn’t find you in your little sleeping spot he began to worry. He knows you can take care of yourself of course, but he has grown to like you. Liked you more than he’d like to admit to himself. That small part of him was worried you left him for something better. Then he heard it. Your voice muttering out curses along with hisses and bangs from outside the ship.

He walked out down the ramp and rounded the corner to see you working under one of the engines. You had goggles on as you messed with some of the wiring, big bulky gloves protecting your hands as some sparks shot up from them. You were covered in sweat and grime already which made him question, how long have you been awake?

He couldn’t help but fall into a trance as you worked on the Razor Crest, seemingly in your own little world. He watched your hands work, and watched how the movements correlated with your arms and shoulders. Call him old fashioned but he still isn’t used to seeing so much of your skin. He often thinks about how soft your skin really is, and how you’d react to his touch. What would your hands feel like? He knows they’re rough from years of work and the occasional fight, but he still would kill to feel your hand run over him just once. If it weren't for the helmet anybody would be able to see how he yearned for you.

He was pulled out of his trance from an eruption and you jerked back from the area you were working on. “Karabast!”

His mouth twitched up as you began to insult the part you were working on. He began to take a few steps closer to you, the sound gaining your attention. Your head turns towards him, and you quickly push your goggles up to the top of your head.

“I-I’ll fix that.” You motion awkwardly towards the panel.

He gives a little chuckle, “How’s it looking?”

“Well, could be worse.”

“What can I do?” He asks, tone just monotone as ever.

“Well you can finnish this part up, it’s pretty simple. I’ll start working at the top of the ship.” You motion to the part you were just working on.

Din starts walking towards you to take over while you explain what he needed to do. Once you were done you walked towards the back of the ship to climb up top. Din couldn’t help but watch your arms work to pull yourself up. His gaze lingered on your body, eventually seeing how the fabric shapes your ass. Once you were up he turned his attention towards the panel in front of him, willing himself to focus on something that's not you.

After a few hours you hoped on down from the top of the ship, needing a break from the harsh sunlight. When you reach the cargo hold of the ship you grab something to munch on before making your way to the cockpit. You see Din in the pilot's seat messing with some of the controls as you make your way to the co-pilot's seat.

“Everything looks good. Should be ready to leave.”

You stand up to look over his shoulder to make sure things were in a good enough condition. Sure this may be Din’s ship but you won’t leave until you think it's ready. As you look you see that there’s a light indicating some damage to one of the engines. No doubt it was that nasty blaster shot you had spotted while up on top.

“Not yet. Gotta fix the right engine.” You point towards the indicator.

“It’s fine, at least until we're somewhere safer.” He doesn’t turn towards you as he speaks, as if he thinks you’re just gonna go with whatever he says.

“We are not going anywhere until I get that engine fixed. Not unless you wanna get captured or stranded?” You ask rhetorically.

You can’t see it but Din raises his eyebrows at your authoritative tone, finally turning to face you. He’s stunned for a second. You had somehow gotten covered in more grime, and what may be soot from the blaster shots to his ship. There were dark streaks covering your arms and parts of your face. He noticed how your skin glistened with sweat from your neck down to your chest. He was reeling in the way you looked, how you someone who usually looked so soft next to him looked so rugged.

This wasn’t the first time Din has had some not so professional thoughts of you. He couldn’t help it with the way you carried yourself, or how cute you always seemed around him. He wanted to see how beautiful you would be falling apart for him, and how your usually confident tone of voice would sound crying out for him.

He didn’t realize he zoned out until your voice came out stern and demanding once again. He looks up to see you had come around in front of him, face just inches away from his helmet. Your arms rested on either side of him as you leaned towards him.

“Hey, you listening?” You ask.

That was when he had enough of your attitude. He abruptly stood up and threw you over his shoulder. You yelped before your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, feeling his body that hides under the beskar. He walks to where his little cot is and puts you down before grabbing a small piece of fabric.

“If you don’t want this just say so.” He says as if he is out of breath.

You grab the small piece of fabric from his hands before moving to tie it around your eyes, a sly smile coming to rest upon your lips, “Bout time you made a move Mando.”

#the mandalorian x reader #din x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fic #Pedro Pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal character imagine #pedro character fic #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian fanfic

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Text

Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER ONE: FIRST DAY

When your cousin Sean and his friend start up a valet business at Nino’s, where you work as a waitress, you don’t expect it to lead to any of what happens next.

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x Reader Word Count: 1893 Rating: T - mild language, reference to harassment

Masterlist

“So, how does it feel, your first big boy job?” you teased, elbowing your cousin in the ribs.

“Oh haha,” Sean drawled, swatting at you. “You’re hilarious.”

“And adorable.” You dodged out his reach, and the two of you proceeded to chase each other around the podium for several minutes.

“I’m serious though, Sean. Suggesting Nino start doing valet parking, organizing the whole thing. I think it’s great. Better than car washes and dog walking. It shows initiative, and it’ll get Don off your back a bit.”

“How’d you know that was one of the goals?”

“Because I know you. Really, my only disappointment is that you brought him along.” You gestured over your shoulder to Derek who was just walking up.

“Hey, come on now!” he cried.

“Derek’s my best mate, you know that Y/N,” Sean sighed. “And I think you two would get along if you gave him a chance.”

“Yeah, but he’s so...him,” you sighed, making a face of mock disgust.

“Yo, hold up, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Are you sure you want me to answer that question?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, whether he took it as a warning or challenge was up to him.

“Yeah. If you got a problem with me, I wanna know what it is.”

“I don’t have a problem with you, per se. It’s just that...you’re arrogant, and loud. Not even your voice, just, the way you are. You act like you’re hot shit, but you’re not half as clever as you think.”

He scoffed in disbelief and even though you knew you should leave it there, something made you want to keep pushing, almost to see what happened if you got him riled enough.

“If you were, you wouldn’t be working nothing but a string of dead-end jobs.” You shrugged. “Frankly, I think both of you are wasting considerable talent being valets instead of looking at the bigger picture.”

“Wait, hang on!” Sean protested. “A minute ago you were praising my initiative.”

“Better to start your own idea than working someone else’s, sure, but I was mostly trying to be nice.” You flashed an apologetic grimace, nose wrinkling. “You’re my favorite cousin and I love you?” you continued in a rush, hoping to cover up your admission of insincerity with charm.

Sean rolled his eyes fondly at you.

“Well if you’re so smart, how come you ain’t doin any better? You’re just like us, Miss Waitress,” Derek said mockingly.

“Except I’m doing this because textbooks cost like four hundred bucks a piece and I don’t have an extra kidney to sell. Unless you’re going to give me yours?” You gave him another challenging look before sighing. “As soon as I have that degree in my hand, I am outta here.”

“Some of us got families to take care of, can’t just run away when we get bored.”

“I…” you took a deep breath, deflating. “I didn’t mean it like that. All I was trying to say is I know Sean’s got talent and someone else is bound to notice eventually, and there’s probably a brain in that head of yours somewhere. I find it hard to believe that you want to do this for life. Family first sure, I get it, but don’t you want...don’t you deserve more?”

Derek and Sean both frowned, unsure of how to answer you. Of course neither of them wanted to be valets or car washers or grocery baggers forever. But they had bills to pay, food and rent and electricity to afford. If they didn’t keep up with here and now, all the bigger picture thinking and dreaming of the future in the world wasn’t going to help.

Something inside the restaurant caught your eye and you shook your head.

“I should probably get in there. Nino’s got Val doing place settings, and we probably don’t want to be auctioning off butter knives.” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your black slacks and flashed them both a smile. “Good luck tonight.”

Derek made no secret of staring at your ass as you walked away, a fact that Sean definitely noticed.

“Come on, seriously?” he asked his friend, making a gesture of both annoyance and defeat.

“What dawg? Your cousin’s kind of a bitch sometimes, but she’s hot as hell. I’m just appreciating.”

“Nino,” one of the chefs asked a few days later. “How come you don’t feed those two boys parking cars? You feed everyone else. They must be starved out there all night.”

Nino looked thoughtful, as if it hadn’t occurred to him before. You frowned, loading your tray with table seven’s appetizers.

“Well, they don’t really work for Nino like the rest of us, do they? They’re independent contractors,” you pointed out.

“Cold, Y/N,” the busboy, John, teased. “Throwing your cousin under the bus.”

You shrugged, weaving your way out of the kitchen. “If he wants food he should learn to put it in his contract.”

About an hour later, Nino was flagging you over, for the third time that night.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he said, rushed. “No one is eating the lasagna.”

“I can try to push more of it, talk it up or something?” you offered, not sure why he was telling you.

“No, no. It’s fine. I just don’t want to see it go to waste.” He smiled like an idea was suddenly dawning on him. “Why don’t you take some to the boys out front. David is right, they must be hungry.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. You should have suspected as soon as it was brought up that Nino would cave. Nodding, you went back to the kitchen to relay the order and wait.

With the two plates, rolled silverware tucked in your apron pocket, you made easy work of weaving through the restaurant and elbowing open the doors, only to grimace uncomfortably when you realized it was just Derek at their podium.

“Hey,” you said awkwardly, making him jump in surprise. “Uh...Nino thought you might be hungry and no one was eating the lasagna so he sent me out with some for you and Sean...where is Sean?”

“He’s just parking somebody, he’ll be back in a minute. Nino’s givin' us free food?” you tried to suppress a smile at the excitement in his voice.

“No, I just brought these out to taunt you,” you joked, rolling your eyes as you handed him one of the plates and dug into your pocket for his fork.

You were silent for a minute, shifting awkwardly, from foot to foot, still holding Sean’s plate and not sure what to do with it.

“About what I said the other night,” you said finally, chewing on your lip.

Derek stopped, fork halfway to his mouth and looked at you.

“I may have been...unreasonably harsh…” you said hesitantly. “And I…”

The words died on your throat as you found yourself wondering if you were actually sorry. You felt guilty, but you still meant what you said. Sean and Derek were both smart people, and you thought they could do better. You had been working at Nino’s since you were nineteen, and had seen so many people insist that a job was just temporary, only to still be there almost a decade later. You didn’t want to see that happen to either of them.

You were trying to remind yourself that it wasn’t about you, when Derek cut through your thoughts.

“Don’t sweat it, I’ve already forgotten,” he said. “It’s all good bro.”

“Oh.” He seemed so genuine in his reassurance and you weren’t sure what to do with that. Instead you changed the subject. “Where is Sean? Shouldn’t he be able to park a car quickly if he’s going to be a valet?”

“I can just hold onto his food, if you gotta get back in there.”

“Please,” you shook your head. “I’m in no rush to return to Awkward First Date, Going to Ask for a Divorce Any Second, or Family With the Twins from The Shining.”

“How come you only got three tables when the place is packed? Don’t you handle five or six like a breeze?”

“I got moved off two, one of them was my fault. So instead I get anyone that wants to eat at the bar. And my section has the last empty table. How’d you know how many tables I usually have?”

“Uh...I overheard some people talking when I went for a smoke break.” His eyes shifted to the side, avoiding your curious look.

“Riight.” You nodded exaggeratedly. There was no way in hell you believed that, unless they’d been gossiping about you losing tables, but he didn’t seem to know about that.

“Anyway, why’d they get pulled?”

“The one that was my fault or the one that wasn’t?”

“Both,” he sighed, making a somewhat impatient gesture. “Sean is out parking the first car that’s showed up in an hour. Talkin’ to you’s at least something to do.”

“Glad to know I rank above staring at the sidewalk or counting the windows across the street.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.”

You leaned back, resting your elbows against the edge of the podium, bringing your faces surprisingly close together. He shoveled a bite of food into his mouth to distract himself from that fact, and the things he was thinking he could do.

“Couple of suit-and-ties celebrating some sort of business deal. One of them asked the new kid if she was on the menu, a few other lewd comments. They made her really uncomfortable, so Nino switched us around, figuring I could handle it.” You shrugged. “Same guy got a little...grabby for things that aren’t his. Nino spotted it and decided to take over the table himself. That’s one down.”

Derek frowned. He’d known plenty of people that worked in restaurants. Managers, and owners especially, didn’t typically move someone off a table for a little handsiness. But maybe Nino was one of the rare ones that went above and beyond for his staff. And if not and you didn’t want to tell him the whole thing, who was he to judge?

“The other was a complaint that I was ‘belligerent.’”

“But you’re cuddlier than a kitten, how could they ever think that?” he laughed.

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly, laughing along.

“All I did was correct them on my name,” you protested. “...every time they called me Sweetcheeks.”

For some reason, this only made Derek laugh harder, nearly choking on a mouthful of pasta.

“Definitely not hostile.”

“Whatever, you dick.” You shoved him playfully and suddenly the two of you froze.

This was a shift in dynamic, a tipping point. Would he let you get away with it and tilt the scale from acquaintance to friendship? Or would he take offense?

Sean found you in that waiting tension, shattering it with his greeting as he finally returned from parking the car. You awkwardly explained the meal delivery and sighed that you had to get back to work, someone would come get the dishes in a bit.

Derek locked eyes with you as you turned to go. You flashed a quick smile back.

“Did I miss something?” you heard Sean ask, lilt exaggerated by his confusion.

#canon divergent au #look we all love Sean but I am very fond of Derek #and he did not deserve what happened #so I'm gonna fix it #eventually #Derek Sandoval x Reader #Bad Samaritan fic

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rpd-rookie · 4 years

Text

Five Stages of Fatherhood - Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Summary: Fatherhood can be wonderful but for Leon Kennedy, fatherhood is scary and he is not ready for it at all. How is he going to process your unexpected news?

Author’s note: I wanted to release this one-shot for Father's Day but it was far from being finished. But here it is. I was mainly inspired by the recent posts I saw on Tumblr. I hope I did Leon justice and that you'll love this story as much as I loved writing it. Don’t forget to like/reblog and give me your impression.

Tags: Angst; Fatherhood ; Depression; Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism ;Anxiety; Language

Also Available on AO3

Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.

They say those are the five stages of grief. Five stages you must overcome to be at peace with yourself. Five stages you must experience, however hard and painful they are, to find the strength to pull yourself back together and keep on living. Leon knew those five stages all too well. He had experienced them more times than he could count through all those years fighting since the Raccoon City incident. They had paved his life, making him wonder why and if he would ever see an end to it all one day. But what he didn’t know is that he was about to experience them again. But in a new unexpected way he would have never imagined.

1. Denial

I’m pregnant. Three simple words that made his simple life suddenly not so simple anymore, repeating and echoing in his head, making him feel like his whole world was suddenly crumbling around him, over him, burying him under rubbles of fear and uncertainty. I’m pregnant. He didn’t just hear that. This was a dream, a hallucination due to sleep deprivation or a silly joke. It had to be. Because it couldn’t be real. This couldn’t happen to him. There was no way he had gotten you pregnant. Yes, you were fooling him. Right? … Right? He had a brief forced laugh, anxiety eating him up slowly. “Please tell me you’re joking.” Pinned to his desk chair, he stared at you waiting for a silly answer or an amused grin. He obviously got neither of them and so he immediately froze, watching you frowning at him with a look that was way too grave and serious to his taste. “Do you really think I would joke about something like this?” Why not? Anything would be better than those three words being the truth. “How can that be so absurd to you that I might be pregnant?” Pregnant? He felt suddenly dizzy. No fucking way.

Mouth slightly opened, confused and petrified blue eyes fixed upon you, and a marble immobility. That’s all that remained of Leon as he searched for something to say, something to think, something to reassure himself with, something to tell him that this conversation, this moment, was not happening right now.

Pregnant? Really? “I didn’t get you pregnant.” You stared at him in shock as he relentlessly shook his head. “I couldn’t. It’s not possible. I…” He cut himself off when he saw you looking away, huge tears suddenly flooding your usually joyful (colour) eyes.

Clearly, that wasn’t the reaction you expected from him. But that’s all his brain could process at the moment, the only thing it could find to keep him afloat, to prevent him from drowning in panic. “There must be some sort of mistake. I can’t be a father. This is not happening.” Leon was freaking out. He couldn’t deny it. The pounding of his heart in his chest was enough evidence. But years fighting BOWs had taught him not to show any ounce of panic even in the worst situations. So, mechanically, no emotion filtered through in voice, making it almost cold. Actually, it sounded so heartless it rooted you on the spot, unaware of what was going on right now in your boyfriend’s head and unable to understand that his weird reaction was just his reason trying to calm him down and help find a quick way-out before reaching an inevitable end. That inevitable end being Fatherhood.

“What are you saying?” You dared ask, your face suddenly pale because of the terrible things he implied. “I don’t want to be a father, Y/N.” He declared looking at you right in the eye. “I don’t want whatever you think is inside your womb right now.” You slumped in your chair, feeling speechless and shocked but most of all, insulted. Did he just call your child a ‘whatever’ and insinuated it wasn’t even there? Was he really denying everything? Saying you were wrong? “Take another test. I’m sure this must be some sort of mistake.” You stared at him, bewildered and fighting to prevent your tears from falling as shock was slowly yet surely turning into sorrow and anger.

2. Anger

“There’s no mistake, Leon. A gynaecologist confirmed it. I’m three months pregnant! Fuck, do you really think I denied this pregnancy on purpose?” There was a sudden knot in your throat, strangling all your words. Leon shrugged. “Honestly, Y/N, I don’t get how someone cannot realize they’re pregnant.” “Simple. Imagine your boyfriend almost dying in a bombing attack in DC, then pushing you out when you try to help him. Then one day, after an entire month watching him falling deeper and deeper into depression despite all your efforts to bring him comfort, you realise that he left without telling you where he’s going. After asking a few people, you learn that he’s decided to take some ‘vacation’ but you know all too well that this vacation of his is just him drowning himself in alcohol in some lousy hotel.” You spouted angrily, feeling all your hormones boiling inside of you. “And I guess you can also add his four weeks of radio silence and the worry you felt when you learn that he who you loved so freaking much was almost killed again in another bio-terrorist attack, this time in New York. I guess that’s a pretty good way to make you deny a pregnancy!” “Oh, so this is my fault?!” He asked, almost shouting, thinking your were accusing him when in fact you were just accusing the horrible stress and the worry you had felt for the last ten weeks or so. “I’m the alcoholic bastard who knocked you up and you’re the poor lost innocent girl? That’s what you’re saying?” “Do you even realise how hurtful you are? Do you really think that is what I want to hear right now?” You tried to block a sob, in vain and Leon sighed in exasperation as he briefly rolled his eyes. He won’t have your crocodile tears right now. “Don’t force me on a guilt trip, Y/N. Please.” He said, frozen stoicism making his features as strong and cold as marble. “Weren’t you on the pill, by the way?” He frowned, and a tear rolled down your cheek. You wiped it quickly. “You forgot it?”

You tried to answer but you knew that the second you would talk it would unleash Leon’s anger and you were not ready to bear it. “For fuck’s sake, Y/N.” Leon gritted his teeth and glared while you instinctively braced yourselves, hands holding tightly at the armrest of your chair. “You only had one thing to think about! One!” He growled, a scolding finger pointed at your face. “Take a fucking pill!” “I may have forgotten once” You whispered almost inaudibly. “Oh, you forgot?” He scoffed before slamming his hand against the wooden desk as he brutally stood up making you jump in your chair. “And then she blames me for my depression. Fantastic.” You frowned. That’s not what you had meant. “Leon…” “You’re as responsible as I am, Y/N. You may have not realised you were pregnant because of what I did but you are the one forgot to take a fucking pill. And, how could you forget? How could you screw my life, both our lives, like that?” Leon screamed as he walked in circles in his office, like a lion in a cage, except that he was lost. He was lost in fear, panic and anger. And he had no control over them. Hard to bear for someone usually so grounded. And that what was pissed him off the most in this situation. Not the news of your pregnancy but lack of control.

“Do you really think I want to be a father at the moment? Or ever? Do you really think our lives or this world are fit to welcome a kid right now?” His voice trembled, powerful emotions finally getting the better of him. A child of his could not be born in such an unsafe dark world. A child could not be part of his messed up cataclysmic life. Family was not made for him. He couldn’t be the devoted agent he was, save the world from awful monsters and have a normal life waiting for him at home. Leon had come to that conclusion years ago. And he even had accepted it long before meeting you. “No. But it’s there now. So please, let’s figure out what to do.” You begged, understanding his fear and yet still trying to reason with him. “What do you want to figure out, Y/N? I told you I didn’t want to be a father. And I thought I made that pretty clear when we had the baby conversation at the beginning of our relationship.” Crystal clear. No living together, no marriage, no children. So were the terms of your relationship. A sacrifice he had asked you to make if you truly wanted to be with him. And you had made it out of love for him. But there was someone else, someone else you loved as deeply as you loved Leon if not more.

“So what do I do?” You asked, lost, using the pronoun ‘I’ because you truly felt on your own right now. “Fuck, I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t fucking know.”

3. Bargaining

But you eventually made a choice, one Leon never saw coming. And all he got was a letter; a simple piece of paper to explain the sacrifice you had decided to make. A letter not even truly addressed to him that made him realise that words could indeed hurt more than actions because, had he had the choice, he would have taken a thousand knives in the heart over those hundreds painful tearstained words.

“My dear baby,

As I write this to you, you’re barely the size of a peach, taking a small place in my womb but already a big one in my heart in a way I never thought humanly possible. If someone had told me that one day I would love someone that intensely, that unconditionally to a point I would sacrifice everything for them, even my own life, I would have laughed to their face. But here you are, not even born and yet making me take a decision I never believed I would take. Giving up on the man I love. Yes, it’s going to be just the two of us from now on. Mother and child building a life together. Not the perfect family portrait but it will be ours and it will be full of love and tenderness. And I hope you’ll like it despite its flaws. I wish I had given you a dad but fate decided otherwise. He decided otherwise. But please, don’t hate him for that. Your dad is an incredible man. A man I love and will always love. A man that will always be a part of me whatever I do. A man that offered me the chance to be a mother. But he is not ready to make a room for you in his heart the way I did. I guess he would have under other circumstances but you don’t need to know them just yet. What you need to know is that your dad is a hero and that heroes sacrifice themselves. Always. Remember him that way. As a selfless man who chose the safety of the world – the world you live in - over his own happiness, because he’s done too much good for you or me to hate him. But don’t worry, my baby. While Daddy is making the world a safer place, I am here to make it a loving one.

I love you,

Your mum.”

That letter stayed on his coffee table for days, lying there for him to read again and again, next to a bottle of fine old whisky Leon would empty one glass after another, one regret after another, begging God –even though he did not believed in him – to bring you back to him.

There’s nothing worse than regrets, nothing worse than sitting alone with yourself and wait for sorrow to finally drown you, nothing worse than being lost in a maze of ‘what if’ and ‘if only’ and knowing that you cannot change anything.

What if he had made an effort? What if he had reacted otherwise and not like an ass? What if he had told you he loved you? What if he had said it would be okay? What if he had simply accepted this baby? How is life would be right now?

And he imagined it. He imagined himself at home with you in his arms, hand over your belly, feeling his child kicking and rolling under his palm. He imagined your smile, your soft giggles. Your happiness. And it crushed him. It crushed him because he wasn’t able to imagine anything else. He could not imagine the dark world he knew all too well. He could not imagine the fear or the pain he always thought he would feel in this situation.

And with regrets came guilt.

If only he had made and effort. If only he had reacted otherwise and not like an ass. If only he had told you he loved you. If only he had said it would be okay. If only he had accepted your baby. His life would be so much better right now.

4. Depression

But you were gone and with you all his hopes of future happiness. You had taken everything from him, leaving him alone, in the dark and purposeless, wandering in his fancy apartment with a new bottle of liquor each evening.

Leon knew depression. But this depression, the one he was experiencing right now, was the worst he had ever experienced. Because if you were gone, it was not because of a bullet, it was not because of a bomb or a BOW. It was because of him. It was entirely his fault. And he couldn’t even change it.

You would not see him, not even talk to him, despite all the messages left on your voicemail or the letters in which he apologized and begged you to come back, telling you if was ready to change and that he was ready to welcome this baby if it meant you'd be together again. And it destroyed him.

He became a mess and he eventually did what he did best. He left, finding refuge in an isolated part of America, a lost cottage in the mountains to drink his sorrow away in peace, somewhere where no one would judge him or find him.

He was wrong about the last part. As one day, after weeks and weeks of radio silence and isolation, an old friend came to knock at his door to kick his ass back to where he belonged. Guess there was no escaping Claire Redfield.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? The Leon I know would never sit there powerlessly and accept his fate that easily.” Leon would have sent anyone packing after a sentence like that one. But Claire wasn’t just anyone. He listened to her. “You want Y/N back? Then quit your bullshit, Leon, and go find her.” “She doesn’t want to talk to me, Claire.” She scoffed, taking his glass of whisky away from him and throwing the liquid away. “So what? You’re gonna stay here for the rest of your miserable life, drinking and crying, and concede defeat? That doesn’t sound like you.” He accepted her scolding, admitting she was right but he had lost the strength to fight. “I know it’s hard, Leon. I do.” Her tone was suddenly so soft and comforting. “I know what it is to lose someone you love as deeply as you love Y/N. But you can still fix it.” “How? She pushed me out of her life. She even moved out. She doesn’t want me anymore.” Claire sighed. “How naïve you are. She loves you. She wants you back. She really does but she doesn’t want you to accept this baby just because you feel like you don’t have a choice. She wants you to want it, truly want it.”

There was a silence, a moment of introspection in which Leon felt the fear and the anxiety rushing in his veins again, knotting his stomach tightly. “I’m not ready, Claire. I’m scared.” Tears misted up his tired blue eyes. “ I know. And it’s normal. But there’s a girl in a hospital out there who’s about to give birth to your child and she needs you, now more than ever.”

5. Acceptance

His head was dizzy, his hands were clammy and his legs were trembling. As Leon was following the nurse in the neonatology wing of the maternity hospital, dressed in a hospital uniform, he wondered if it was the smell of disinfectant or the fright he was feeling growing inside of him that was making him want to puke right now. Perhaps a little bit of both. “It’s this way.” The nurse opened a door and waved him to join her by a small incubator in the middle of the room, a sweet smile on her face.

But Leon froze, completely petrified. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. All he could do was watching at his five pounds of fear sleeping few steps away from him. “Someone’s here to see you, little angel. It’s your daddy.” Daddy? The word made Leon tremble and small tears appear in his eyes, tears that instantly grew bigger when the small creature finally moved its tiny arms. “Many fathers are afraid when they come here. But I assure you there’s nothing to fear. Your baby is fragile but you won’t hurt her, I promise.” Leon’s blue eyes met briefly the nurse before fixing themselves upon the face of the little thing lying in the incubator. “A daughter?” He had a daughter? He was the father of a little girl? This tiny angel in a pink beanie right there? He approached her, instinctively, wanting so badly to see her from up close. She was so beautiful and yet so tiny.

“Would you like to hold her?” Leon nodded, without thinking twice about it and the nurse made him sit down and remove the top of his hospital uniform, informing him that it would be better for his daughter to feel his skin since it was warmer and more reassuring than any fabric.

That first contact felt weird but Leon was certain of one thing, he had never hold anything so minuscule, light and fragile in his entire life. It scared him for a second, afraid she would break, but the instinct to protect her was stronger than anything else. “I’ll leave you two alone. If you need anything I’m not far.” Leon didn’t notice the nurse leave, mesmerized by that piece of him nestled in his arms right against his naked chest, watching her with wonder and awe, barely believing that he had made this … that you both had made this. “You’re so perfect.” He whispered as he dared caress her soft tender rosy cheek. His skin felt so rough against hers that she grimaced slightly. “So pure.”

Her hands were so little, just like her feet. Leon touched her fingers, still impressed by their size and shivered when they suddenly grabbed his index. “Wow, how strong you are, little princess.” He grinned, looking at her weak grip until he felt a pair of eyes staring at him.

They were dark and blue, soft innocent baby eyes scrutinizing him with astonishment, discovering his face and bonding with him in ways Leon had never thought possible. He could see the world in those blue eyes just as much as his daughter was discovering the world through his. And he could feel love, strong and unconditional, a love he would never be able to feel for anyone else, he was sure of it. A fatherly love. One that would make him move mountains just for the sake of protecting his child. One that would make him give up his life for hers. How beautiful yet how scary.

And he cried tears of joy and guilt, happy to have her in his life and yet sorry that he hadn’t be there for her sorry. He had missed too much. First echography, first move, first kick, first cry. All that because of fear and stubbornness. And he felt awful because of it.

A hand pressed gently on his shoulder. Leon turned around to see you standing next to him, a tired smile on your face. “Y/N” You knelt by his side, softly caressing the head of your daughter who had fallen asleep in the strong arms of her father. “I’m sorry... I am so sorry. I should have been there for you.” “ You’re here now. And that’s all that matters.”

Yes, he was here and he would remain here, by his daughter’s side and by yours, until his last breath. For first steps, first words, first birthday, first drawing, first day at school, first love, first heartbreak. He would forever be here for her and make the world a safer place for her. He had finally found a reason to keep fighting. And it was five pounds of pure love.

Little (baby’s name) Claire Kennedy.

Making his life brighter despite five stages of fatherhood he would willingly go through again if it meant he could hold her in his arms forever.

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #one shot #fanfic

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laceymorganwrites · 3 years

Text

The damn jacket

Word count: 2,210

Pairing: none rlly

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, like a sentence of Mötley Crüe slander xD, um bad structure??

A/N: this is a mess. modern AU, kinda character analysis, idek but it was fun. Inspired by @pirate-shrimp (if any of u catch the MSI reference I will marry u on the fucking spot)

Kid had bar vibes. He was the kind of guy you found sitting in the corner of your local pub, just far away from the others not to be forced into a conversation but also not far away enough to seem lonely.

He was the local phenomena of the man you didn´t want to get close to but whose story you wanted to know at the same time. The guy who pushed people away because he was more scared of hurting them than being hurt.

Hell, he doubted he could get hurt anymore at this point, over the years he´s lost so many friendships, been betrayed so much by the people he considered the closest to him, it was laughable.

Maybe that was why he didn´t let anyone get close anymore, why he always seemed so distant, his thoughts stuck in a past long gone or perhaps a future he knew he´d never have.

A good for nothing college drop out, those were the hard facts he had to face every day.

It wasn´t because he was dumb that he quit, far from it. Kid wasn´t thrown out, he quit himself because college was too restricting for him. There were some classes that were nice enough, but working towards exams really wasn´t his style, he wanted to do something, anything really.

People like him didn´t have it easy, society measured your worth in degrees and results. But what if the way was so much more fun than the end result?

Kid had a lot of jobs to make a living, never staying in one though, he got bored so easily. How could anyone expect anyone to keep doing the same routinized thing for over 40 years? It was insanity. To him anyways.

Being punk, never fitting in, living the life of sex, drugs and rock n roll…. It all seemed so much more fun than it really was.

Kid´s band was a bad ripoff of Mötley Crüe, though some might argue that the band itself was.

Yes, he fit into some stereotypes that he was so sick of hearing: playing in a band, being that eccentric lead singer that caused too much trouble for his own good, though the second part wasn´t true anymore. Lately he just wanted people to leave him alone.

It was nice being a small town band, the bonds with your audience were so much stronger, it felt like hanging out with friends rather than playing a show for money. Kid never wanted that feeling to end, he never wanted to end up like those big bands who lost their spark, who lost that glimmer in their eyes, their racing heart when Killer counted and initiated their first song, the immense feeling of belonging whenever the crowd would sing his words back to him.

This.

This was what he was made for. Passion. That was what was missing when he was studying, he needed to do things, be that sketching or tinkering with his car or writing everything down that was going on in his head.

In truth Kid started writing because it all got too much, too many fake people around him, too many people acting like his best friend and leaving him cold the next day, too many people telling him they loved him and then spitting at him, gossiping behind his back.

A part of him missed the times when he cared, when he was shocked and hurt by this. By now it´s become so common, like the energy drink before work.

Kid didn´t have the dream rockstar life, not the one where people looked so cool shooting up in those movies, that shit was fucked up and society was sick for portraying it like that.

He only had bad experiences with drugs, living in a small town like this he saw the addicts everywhere, sad creatures who couldn´t support themselves anymore, who got dependent on things that destroyed them because nobody would help, because nobody gave a shit about them. Why would they? They were good for nothings who couldn´t work ten hours in some shitty job that didn´t pay them enough to pay rent.

The system wasn´t corrupt? Yeah, bullshit.

The problem he faced was that of a fleeting society, a society that sped up so much, never once slowing down and looking around to see what was out there. They never thought about expanding their horizons.

Schoolings were looked down upon, but at the same time cheered for. It was so strange… the craft was dying but also needed.

Nothing held value anymore, nothing lasted, nothing strove to.

Kid was happy with his life as it was now. He hated being selfish and arrogant but learned that a certain amount was needed to survive, you needed to look out for yourself before you could look out for anyone else. A local rockstar, frequent bar visitor, the best mechanic in town. All those fit him so well but at the same time he looked the part, oh how he hated it sometimes. The acquaintances he made because of his looks, because people spread rumors about him, making him more myth than man, it was pretty tiring.

Especially when they all were disappointed by the rather bland truth.

Not that Kid was bland in any way, it was just that people expected so much more from him, they wanted him to be this rebel, this punk, this heartbreaker.

Expected him to have tattoos and piercings but the truth was that he had such a low pain tolerance it was embarrassing. Yes, he bore every punch and kick he ever got without any complaints because there were parts of him that told him he deserved it, parts that hated him more than anything else.

Just try it…. there´s nothing you can do that I haven´t already done myself, you can´t hate me more than I hate myself.

Ah yes, the typical phenomenon of this generation: being way too soft and overly sensitive.

That was it, they weren´t more considerate and aware of their mental health and other people´s wellness, of identity and morals, of things that got swiped under the rug because ´it was always this way´. Why the fuck would people so desperately try to keep something misogynistic, racist and homophobic up? Just because it existed the majority of time doesn´t mean it was a good system.

Fuck, it never was.

And Kid was sick of everyone playing down those things. So what if he was a fucking crybaby and didn´t get humor? He wouldn´t take this shit anymore, yeah it mostly didn´t affect him but he got angry beyond belief for the people it did affect.

It wasn´t fair.

He couldn´t do anything? It wouldn´t matter anyway? It wouldn´t make a difference? So fucking what. He´d never know if he didn´t try.

Just now Kid finished up his work at the garage, closing up shop for the day. It was a busy day, many people who were driving through came to him to do a check up, others came by for their regular reparation. He loved that busy meant fun in his world. He was so fucking happy that he could do the things that brought him joy, that burned like a fire in his heart. And no, he didn´t care how cheesy that sounded.

Washing his hands and closing the door behind him he called Killer to let him know he was done. Killer was also just now finishing up his shift at the record shop. Now was their time to rehearse, band practice was always the best part of the day, though quite honestly most of the time it was just the guys hanging out and having a good time. And they wouldn´t have it any other way.

Kid grabbed his jacket and locked the doors before making his way to his car.

The jacket. That damn jacket.

It was where it all started. He bought that old thing from his first ever pay at the garage, his boss told him to spend it on something nice for himself, something that´d make him a man. He didn´t ever ask what he meant by that, his boss said weird things at times. But this was true, at least in a sense.

It was the first time Kid ever stepped foot inside of a second hand store and it was like heaven revealed himself to him, it was pure paradise. Just going through the aisles, finding treasures like no other, it became one of his favorite things to do.

The jacket was the first thing that ever caught his eye, the firs thing he purchased. The black leather with the yellow and dark red details, the skull on the back… it was calling to him. Those were his favorite colors, he didn´t even have to think about it before he bought it.

But what about it made him a man? It was just a jacket after all. But that´s where you´d be wrong.

It was so much more than that.

The very next day he started wearing it religiously, he noticed people staring at him at the streets but this time it wasn´t because he was a loser, it was because he looked fucking cool. The jacket boosted his confidence immensely. And it showed.

His boss complimented him and said that from this day on his journey was only beginning, and how right he was with that.

It was the day he reconnected with his high school friend Killer, he didn´t even know he was back in town, let alone working at his favorite record shop and searching for a band to play drums for. So Kid got his first guitar and played it to death, jamming with Killer and searching for others, thus meeting Heat and Wire, the coolest guys on earth.

He grew so much, finding more and more passion in his life, only his jacket stayed the same. He decided that it was time to change that.

Kid went to the crafts store and bought red leather protectors with a quilting pattern, sewing it to the shoulders of the jacket. He also decided to pimp the skull, making it his own personal jacket in painting on the goggles he wore at work, two knives as a cross because it was edgy and of course: his hair. His untamable hair that would never hold up so he got used to wearing any sort of silly glasses, sometimes even the goggles from work. Hair gel was a lie to him, so was hairspray.

He painted bright red flames in homage to his dyed hair, yeah, it wasn´t just a phase.

Everything was coming together.

He grabbed his stupidly large square blue sunglasses that made him look like a dad. Yes, Kid had a dad style. He loved second hand shirts more than anything, not the boring ones, the ones with the stupidest prints, he wore dad shoes like no one´s business and he was proud of it. He was the cool dad, the cool dad with the big car and puns that were so bad they somehow got good again. But damn, did he have talent with words. Screw not being able to formulate shit in speech, that man could write like a god, or rather the devil. Because, let´s be real, the devil sounds so much better on the mic.

Starting the engine, he drove home to at least make some room to sit for his friends, on the way he shopped for groceries too. Now that he was home he got the snacks, drinks and notebooks ready as well as the tons of pens where he never knew which one worked but never threw any away because somehow he thought he´d exchange the mines. Yeah, as if.

He threw on a black shirt and some black joggers before tying his hair up into a tiny ponytail, still his bangs fell in his face as always. It was annoying so he clipped them back with some black hair clips. He didn´t care if he looked stupid with that, at least he could see clearly now.

But getting a hair cut? No way, he looked too cool for that.

Kid opened the door when the others came and sat down on the couch with his acoustic guitar, lately they decided to play around with reimagining their songs after supporting and motivating Kid to sing rather than growl. He had such a nice guttural and gruff voice, these imperfections when singing, the edges just made the song that much more genuine.

Listening to Kid you just couldn´t help but get mesmerized, the way his biceps flexed when he held the guitar, the emotions in his eyes, the way he frowned and squinted whenever the lyrics got emotional and close to home, it made you want to protect him, to keep him happy, to keep this alive, this wonderful world he created for himself.

The others also scribbled down ideas and practiced new melodies, tried out new lyrics and solos. After a while work mixed in with private chats and the night faded into distant, nostalgic laughter and the crinkles around Kid´s eyes that showed how much it all meant to him.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece oneshot #one piece scenario #one piece drabble #one piece fic #one piece kid #one piece modern au #one piece writing #op #op imagine #op oneshot #op scenario #op kid #op drabble #op fic #op writing #op modern au

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knivestothroats · 4 years

Text

So I was talking to @delightful-dreadful about his Alexander and Luka characters and he had an idea and I was like... listen, lemme write that for you. Please.

For some context, basically Alexander has a friend, Sam, over and is showing off Luka. They are discussing what to do to him, Sam suggests needles. And.. go!

content warnings: I don’t know what to call it, but Luka is held in place with a nail through a pre-existing piercing hole. Also caning (brief), knives, cigarette burns, captivity, violent/sadistic whumper. No actual use of needles, actually!

“I don’t like needles,” Luka said in a small voice, worrying his hands against each other.

Alexander scowled, making an annoyed noise. He pulled a knife from the sheath on his belt - a sharp-looking hunting knife with a gut hook on the back.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Luka’s eyes widened.

“Wh.. n-n…”

He didn’t even want to speak, knowing forming vowels would cause his mouth to open.

Alex reached out and grabbed his chin roughly. He brought the knife in close.

“Open your mouth. Now.”

Tears stung at the backs of Luka’s eyes as he gave in and slowly let his jaw hang open.

“Wider,” Alexander ordered, laying the blade flat against Luka’s bottom lip. “Show Sam what a liar you are.”

Luka didn’t understand, but he conceded.

Alexander slipped the knife in and caught Luka’s tongue stud with the gut hook, tugging it forward.

With a surprised, “Ahh!” Luka let his tongue be pulled out of his mouth.

“If you hate needles, why so many piercings?” Alexander questioned. “You must have liked getting your ears done enough to get this one.”

He tugged with the knife, eliciting a scared moan from Luka.

“Anything else pierced?” Sam teased.

Alexander slipped the hook off from around the stud and let go of Luka’s chin. Luka closed his mouth and swallowed nervously. He knew Alexander’s reasoning was bullshit, but he also knew he couldn’t say that.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly instead.

“Lie to me again” Alexander threatened, “and I’ll take the stud out and nail your tongue to the table.”

“Oh!” Sam practically yelled.

Alexander and Luka both turned to look at him.

“Can we do that?” he asked excitedly.

“Comfortable, Luka?” Alexander mewed, pacing around behind him, out of Luka’s line of sight.

Luka can’t answer of course. Alexander had taken the stud out of his tongue and slipped a nail through the opening, hammering it down to the surface of the table. The best he could do was let out a whine from the back of his throat. It was a rhetorical question anyway; he just needed to give Alexander a response.

Sam was sitting across the table from where Luka was bent over it. He had his chin resting in his hand, watching Luka with loving eyes.

“Sounds like a yes to me,” Sam said with a grin.

Luka let out a shaky breath. He wanted to reposition, but he had no range of motion. Saliva was beginning to pool in his open mouth, and he could already feel an ache starting to form in his spine.

Just as he thought of his spine, Alexander’s hand ran up it.

“What shall we do now?” he mused. “I hate to waste this opportunity. Such a vulnerable position you’re in.”

“D’you ever whip him?” Sam asked casually.

Luka’s wide eyes shot up to Sam. He couldn’t stifle his nervous whine as he clenched his hands into fists, bracing them against the table.

“Or a cane,” Sam continued with a shrug.

“I don’t know,” Alexander said. “Might cause too much movement. Wouldn’t want it to rip out right off the bat.”

“Naw, I think he could stay still and take it,” Sam said. He leaned in over the table towards Luka. “Right? You want to be good for Alex, don’t you? I mean, you’re the one who’ll get hurt if you don’t.”

Alex walked around into Luka’s field of vision so they could see each other’s faces.

Luka couldn’t say no. He couldn’t beg. He couldn’t even shake his head. All he could do was whimper pitifully, drooling onto the table, as he looked up at Alexander with pleading eyes.

Alexander walked away without a word. Luka’s heart rate picked up as he lost sight of his owner. Behind him, out of view, Alexander picked up a cane.

“We’ll try it once; see how it goes.”

Luka was breathing hard, trying not to move. He uncurled his fists and dug his fingernails into the table. He couldn’t see Alexander, but he could see Sam. He watched Sam’s eager eyes track Alexander’s movement excitedly.

The eyes went up.

The cane came down hard on Luka’s back.

Luka let out a strangled cry and jerked forward. He felt the stinging pull in his tongue as hot pain blossomed across his back.

Alexander walked around the table while Sam giggled like an excited kid in a toy shop. Tears blurred Luka’s vision, but he could see Alexander’s hand coming close, pointing.

“Fresh blood,” he stated. “He’ll move too much.”

Sam scoffed. “You’re worried about him bleeding?”

Alexander made a contrary hum as he walked away to exchange the cane with a different tool.

“I just want him to bleed the right way.”

Sam’s face lit up again, and he turned his hungry eyes back to Luka.

“Now, Luka,” Alexander said. He pushed Luka’s shirt up, exposing his back. “You know how to be good for me under the knife, don’t you?”

Luka squeezed his eyes shut and let out a whine.

“Show Sam how good you can be for me,” Alexander said.

Luka felt the cold, sharp tip of a blade line up against his skin. He felt the sting as it broke through and slid across his back. A breathy whimper crawled its way out of his throat, but he didn’t move. He could feel the hot blood pooling up and spilling out of the wound, cooling against his skin in the chill of the basement. The knife lined up against his skin again.

Luka kept still through all of them. Finally, Alexander felt satisfied. He reached forward and ruffled Luka’s hair, being gentle enough not to move his head.

“Good boy, Luka,” he cooed. “I’ll go get what I need to get you cleaned up. You wait here with Sam.”

As if he had a choice.

Sam sat back in his chair and grinned. They watched Alexander disappear up the stairs. Sam let out a breath.

“I feel like I need a cigarette after that,” he said with a chuckle. He fished a box out of his pocket, followed by a lighter.

Luka watched uneasily as he blew out a stream of smoke.

Sam glanced over his shoulder towards the stairs, then leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper.

“Alex doesn’t like me smoking in his house,” he said. “So when he comes back down, I’m gonna have to put it out real quick. But you won’t tell on me, right?”

Luka blinked, and gave a small noise of confirmation, just to give something.

Sam continued to smoke in silence, eyeing Luka like he was a work of art displayed in a gallery. When the first footstep creaked at the top of the stairs, Sam wasted no time in leaning forward and stubbing his cigarette out of Luka’s tongue.

Luka let out a scream and instinctively tried to pull away, only serving to tear at the hole in his tongue.

He wondered if the stud would even fit by the time they were done.

Alexander stopped at the foot of the stairs. His eyes moved from Luka, a puddle of drool, blood, and tears forming around him, to Sam, who was reclining casually in his chair.

“I was gone for less than five minutes and you're giving my boy cigarettes?” Alexander shook his head. “It’s a bad habit.”

“Oh, I gave him one alright,” Sam laughed.

Alexander set the supplies down on the table in front of Luka, who looked up at him with tear-blurred vision.

“Would you like me to dress your wounds first?” he asked. “Or would you like me to let you up first?”

Luka made a nervous noise, followed by just any sort of noise he could manage, hoping that Alexander would interpret it the way Luka wanted him to.

“Hm, you’re right, Luka,” Alexander said. “Your back is already so perfectly exposed, I should start with the dressings.”

Luka huffed miserably. He did his best not to flinch as Alexander cleaned his wounds and applied the gauze. It wasn’t too long before Alexander came back around, hammer in hand.

Luka began to panic. His breathing quickened and his fingers scrabbled at the table.

It made sense, he supposed. But he still didn’t want it to happen.

“Open wide,” Alexander said, easing the claw of the hammer into his mouth.

Luka whined around the cold metal invasion, but tried to keep his breathing steady and his jaw wide.

He felt the nail slide out against the torn flesh of his tongue. The end of the hammer clacked against the back of his top teeth and Alexander had to reposition to get the nail the rest of the way out. It wasn’t until Luka saw Alex draw the hammer fully away, bloody nail dangling from it, that he eased his sore jaw closed.

He tasted metal.

#writings #original #i mean they're thomas's ocs but tbf i helped #knives cw #caning cw #improper use of household tools cw #cigarette burns #violent whumper #sadistic whumper #captive whumpee

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bindi-the-skunk · 3 years

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Night is day and day is night In a world that's lost its mind! chapter eight END

This was...concerning, to say the least.

Nothing had been done the past couple of months, everyone was saying it was because of the cameras that had been put up were causing whoever did those horrible things to think twice, but Henry and Robert were not so sure getting rid of someone like this was that easy.

Someone was biding their time no doubt, being eight months pregnant did not lend itself to much coordination, and being so close to birth did not lend itself to much calm thought either, but both hoped whoever it was would just get bored and leave them all alone.

sigh

"Are you alright?" Robert asked, concerned at the other's frown and exhale, depression was not uncommon in pregnancy and his mate was already prone to it...

"Fine, it's just dark and rainy and it makes all this nonsense all the more gloomy for us all" Henry admitted, well he was no stranger to the rain, nor did he paticuarly hate it, but that did not mean he liked having it on top of the other things going on in their lives.

"Rachel is making everyone chili, that should help" Robert smiled, already eager for a bowl of the comfort dish and sure the omega would want something hot to fill his belly.

"Is it spicy?" Henry asked

"She did say it would be sort of hot" Robert admitted "You should not worry, it won't induce you"

"Perhaps, but I would much rather not get any heartburn from it," the omega said, knowing spiced foods were not a sure-fire way to go into labor, but they were a sure fire way to indigestion and that was something he would rather avoid, rolling about in his nest feeling like he wanted to vomit did not sound like a fun evening.

"Well, I can get something else..." Robert started only to be cut off by a kiss to the cheek.

"That's alright, I'm not even hungry right now, enjoy a meal with the others and I'm going to sleep a bit more, perhaps the storm will be over when I wake up" Henry smiled, knowing Robert had to be a little cooped up in the nest, he was in it all the time now ever since he was checked out of the hospital and the nest proved to be a good place for his still-healing body.

Robert nodded, sure his mate wanted some alone time to stretch out and relax, leaving the room, locking the door behind him so Henry could sleep with no disturbances, and headed downstairs. --- Mmm...something smells good...

Henry's eyes cracked open to find to his disappointment, the storm had not stopped, if anything it had gotten worse, but he did smell something nice, climbing out of the nest and opening the door the omega found a blueberry muffin, aw, Robert or Rachel must have left it there for him, wonder where his alpha was anyway? Perhaps he had some work to do or one of the lodgers dragged him off to show him something.

Picking up the treat, Henry headed back inside to sit at his desk so he could eat it properly, no need to get crumbs in his nest, that would not be fun to clean up later on, and the chemist was not in the mood to drag around the vacuum.

Taking a bite he could not help but note it was a bit weird tasting but guessed a little too much salt or something was added, the muffin was still good and it would be horrible to waste it after so much trouble.

He just hoped Robert got back soon...

---

"How on earth did you not know it would explode!?" Robert scolded as he bandaged Sinnett's hand after one of his machines backfired on him suddenly when he was showing off to the alpha what he wanted to display at the next science show.

"I thought I checked everyth-wait a minute...one of the dials has been taken off no wonder it shot off!" Sinnett pointed with his good hand to see that, yes indeed, one of the dials had been taken off and was laying on the floor.

"Who would have done-HENRY!" Robert jumped to his feet and darted from the room, bolting up the stairs two at a time, mister Sinnett somehow keeping up at his heels.

"Doctor Jekyll is upstairs, and he wouldn't have done this anywa-" Sinnett scoffed, thinking the alpha had suddenly gone daft to think his pregnant mate would ever intentionally sabo-

"I mean someone messed with your machine as a DISTRACTION!" Robert nearly screeched, heart pounding as he raced for his lover's office.

"WHAT!?" ---

Of all things to give him a stomach ache it had to be a muffin!

Pacing the room the omega was trying to ignore his hurting gut, now getting a little worried, it seemed like it was getting worse...perhaps it was just stress? Or bad bluebe-oh, that was problematic...his water broke.

He needed to go to the hospital NOW...where was his coat? He would need to calmly inform the lodgers...no need for them to panic...

'you're not due yet! Kid needs to bake another month!' Hyde seemed to complain, but Henry could hear that hint of fear in his voice, he was just as concerned as his split half, and catching a glimpse of him in the mirror, he could see his eyes did look a little softer.

"It will be alright, just calm down...I'll go find Robert or one of the lodgers and they can find him and we can go," Henry said to the mirror, fearing if he tried to mentally talk it would come out messed up and they were alone so it's not like he needed to.

Stepping towards the door a jolt of pain went down the omega's spine sending him to his knees.

This was not right...it hurt...it was too ...it was going too fast...but he didn't feel...this was not normal...the room was spinning

The door opened and he just saw a pair of blue socks coming towards him...

And everything went black --- Robert ran to Henry's side, quickly taking note of how scarily still he was and the fact his eyelids were fluttering oddly, seizure...waters broken...no visible head injury...

"Sinnett! Call an ambulance! Tell them we have an omega in labor who has entered a seizure by an unknown substance!" Robert ordered, the mate in him wanted to cry and attempt to get his love back in his right head as fast as possible, but the doctor knew seizures did not work that way, he did not know what caused it and labor and birth were out of his line of knowledge.

Forcing his instincts down he gently started to rub at the other man's back and held the omega's hand in the other "Henry? Can you hear me? I know you and Edward have to be really scared right now, but Sinnett went to get you help, you are going to be just fine and so will Edward and the baby"

A groan was his response, not comforting.

"Hang on..." Robert whispered as all he could really do at this point was wait...and pray... --- "Thirty-five-year-old omega, thirty-seven weeks pregnant, membranes ruptured and suffered a seizure from an unknown reason" the paramedic relayed as she helped wheel in said omega who was only partially conscious having woken up in the ambulance, only to scream in pain, too out of it and whatever drugs he was given most likely making the pain a lot worse to bother with any form of control.

Robert ran alongside the gurney, being more concerned with the fact Henry was back to being quiet, the screaming at least let the alpha know he was coherent enough to feel pain and react accordingly to the unpleasant feeling.

"Prepping for an emergency C-section!" came another call.

Those clinical words made a cold chill go down Roberts's spine.

C-section? As in, cut open? Like a dead fish!? It made sense though...the doctor in him monotonely said there would be no way his mate would be able to push, whatever he had been given had weakened him badly and caused a SEIZURE, Robert would be lucky if Henry made it out alive! If their baby was alive after being drugged...

The alpha fell to his knees in the hallway, feeling both cold and hot at the same time, why would someone...who could do this...why...

"Mr.Lanyon?" A soft voice went and the alpha looked up to see a blond nurse looking down at him "Why don't you go and get some air? I'm sure your mate and baby will be okay" she smiled softly, green eyes showing empathy and kindness, she looked sort of like how he thought a female Hyde would look in all honesty, though the sweet look was something he was sure would never grace the gremlin's face, it might never grace Henry's face again...

The nurse helped Robert to his feet and helped him walk to the doors and even found him a bench to sit on, offering a cup of coffee before she turned on a heel and dashed back inside the building, leaving the alpha with his thoughts.

The night was still warm, not yet turning cold with the coming winter, the bench was still wet from the earlier rain, but Robert found he could not care less about his trousers, who would benif-wait a minute...

His father...

Was that old windbag really capable of something like this? his family went after people who did things like this! But his father was stuck in his ways...thought he knew best all the time...if he thought Henry was in the way of a goal...he would do it, in a heartbeat.

Robert was going to KILL him, quite literally...

The monster that Robert wanted to break away from stirred inside him as he thought back on how pale his mate had been...how trying to encourage their baby to kick well they waited for the ambulance had proven fruitless...if both of them ...no...don't think like that yet...

He would bid his time if ...when...Henry was out of the woods and they would celebrate or mourn together, then the alpha would sharpen a few knives, perhaps this could be Henry's first kill...wouldn't that be poetic justice? Oh, he knew just the thing to use... --- "You can go in now" the nurse smiled as she watched the alpha attempt to look dignified well carrying a smiley face balloon.

Robert walked as straight and tall as he could into the hospital room, biting back the urge to jump for joy when he saw Henry's eyes were open and the omega managed to smile weakly at him.

"Hey," Robert said softly, stepping forward so he could gently run his fingers through the other's soft brown locks, loving how the strands curled between his fingers as if they did not want to let go.

"W..where is the baby?" Henry croaked, still feeling horrible, and stomach throbbing slightly no doubt from the new cut in it, but...perhaps some good came out of this...just a little hope...was their child alive? Or had it been killed from the-

"Don't you mean 'babies'?" Robert smiled, having hardly believed the news himself, but excited to blurt it out to anyone who would listen and was sure he annoyed a few people in doing so, especially after learning his mate would recover on top of it.

Henry almost felt like fainting again hearing that but found himself grinning loopily, no doubt a side effect of the medication meant to keep him from ripping his stitches going to search himself for the new little ones "Two for the price of one"

'Price of one my ass! We went through hell and got our shit wrecked!' Edward whined, feeling the effects of the medicine himself and also just wanting to see his new little monster! Give them their babies already!!!

"I have a great big surprise for you when you and our children can go home...or at least back to the society, I do believe everyone pitched in to build cribs...and a stroller...and slings...we are going to be up to our elbows in baby-related inventions aren't we?" Robert nearly winced, no doubt several 'improvements" will have been made to normal baby things...

"No doubt, what is the surprise?" Henry asked curiously.

"Oh, it will be a SCREAM" Robert grinned, already having asked one of the lodgers to make a few...adjustments to Henry's cane.

Would anyone want a sequel to this? Or do you guys have ideas for something?

#TGS #tgs jekyll #Tgs Hyde #Robert Lanyon X Henry Jekyll #Jekyon #Mpreg #male pregnancy #the glass scientists #glass scientists #The glass scientists AU #TGS Serial!killer AU

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letsbenditlikebennett · 3 years

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Wolf, Bat, & Rat || Ariana & Harsh

TIMING: During Sweet Dreams POTW PARTIES: @notsoharsh & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ariana and Harsh run into each other while looking at knives. No wrong assumptions are made and no rat kings show up in the store.

Humans and their fucking birthdays. Why did they even make such a big deal about them? Well, maybe when they only had about forty of them to look forward too, they were more important. Harsh didn’t care much about his own, he had forgotten when it was some hundred years ago. It didn’t matter. He kept track of the years in a vague sense, but after two hundred had gone by, the precise number was less and less important. The gap between 29 and 30 seemed much bigger than the one between 262 and 263. But Kaden was closer to the former, so he needed some kind of present. Something nice, something he could probably use to kill people. That’s what hunters liked, right? Harsh didn’t really know where to start. He had picked the store at random. Their stuff looked relatively high end, decent knives at least. The door at the bell rang, new customer probably. Harsh let his eyes drift over. Huh, she looked kind of young to be checking out weapons, but… she could be a hunter, they started young. He didn’t pay her much mind, instead keeping his attention focused on the knives lining the wall before him. This would be a lot easier if he had any idea where to start. “I wish these things had better labels,” he said, more to himself than anyone else.

If how things were going lately was a sign of anything, Ariana was about 95% sure she was cursed and she was almost positive the mimes had something to do with it. Every time she actually needed to use all the random shit that seemed to be popping up around town lately, it conveniently vanished from her pocket like she was in some sort of nightmare. Sure, she had other assets she could rely on, but she couldn’t just casually turn into a wolf in the middle of town. Or maybe she could. It’s not like she’d be the craziest thing anyone was seeing. There was another man over by the knives, but she mostly minded her business looking over the non-silver knives until she heard him speak. She looked to him with an amused grin on her face and joked, “You mean, you can’t tell what type of metal it is just by looking?” She picked up one of the ones in front of him and ignored the mild irritation from the silver before placing it back down. “Are you looking for something in particular? I’m no expert, but I have a decent enough idea of what I’m looking at.”

Oh shit, this kid actually knew something. She probably was a hunter then. Harsh gave the blade another look. It did look kind of silvery. God, he needed to be better about this. He had never really cared about the kind of wood stakes were made out of as long as they weren’t pointed his way. But he should. He flashed her a sheepish smile and shrugged. “They all kind of look the same to me. I go more on the weight and feel. Knives aren’t really my area, I’m looking for a friend. He’s got a birthday coming up and he’s really into all this stuff.” Harsh gestured to the wall, which was almost entirely covered in hunter tools. Really, he should have been more careful walking into this place. They didn’t have a wall for stakes, but he wouldn’t be surprised if there were tons in the back just waiting for slayers to ask. “What about you? Is this where cool kids hang out after school now?” She looked young… ish. He had never been great at guessing human ages even when he was one. She was sort of small, but that could mean anything. Maybe high school? Middle school age? That was probably a weird thing to ask. There weren’t any parents trailing after her waxing on and on about silver and cold iron, so she was probably at least old enough to walk around town without a babysitter. When did they stop babysitting kids now… twelve? Maybe she was twelve.

Judging by the lack of knife knowledge, Ariana felt herself relax a bit as she realized this man was decidedly not a hunter. Especially not a werewolf hunter. While her luck with hunters and winning them over was going, odds are the ones shopping for knives would be plenty eager to stab her. Which was something she largely preferred to avoid. She laughed a bit and said, “You’re valid. Do you know what type of knives your friend normally goes for? What does he like besides knives? Some of the engravings really give extra personality.” It dawned on her that Kaden had a birthday coming up pretty soon. She was, after all, nearly done with the final touches on his gift. What were the odds this random guy was friends with Kaden? He looked like he was maybe about Kaden’s age, but it was hard to tell. She’d still probably pick something she knew Kaden would probably like and hoped it wasn’t going to a werewolf hunter who would actually use it on her. Or one of her friends. She refrained from sighing as she picked up another nice looking knife that slightly irritated her skin. The remark about after school made her laugh a bit. “Oh yeah,” she joked, “Knives are the new makeup because why should your looks be the only thing that kill?”

Glancing at the selection, Harsh carefully picked up a blade. It was… very shiny. Great. Wait, the label there said silver. That might be good. He cast a glance at the kid. If she was a hunter, she would probably know what he was after as soon as he tried to get specific. “I think he’s a fan of silver or iron. It’s tough, he’s got a lot already, but that’s a good point. Maybe I could get one of these engraved for him. I should get one with stripes, he would hate that,” he said, with a soft laugh as he set the knife back down. Maybe he was going about this all wrong. Kaden had knives, he had weapons. And lately he seemed… less than enthusiastic when they talked about hunting. But what the hell else did hunters need? “You mean killing a guy with eyeliner isn’t enough now? Damn, kids have it rough these days,” he said, shaking his head. He picked up another knife, faintly trying to test the weight of it. It felt even, nice and balanced. That was probably good, even if he wasn’t sure what the hell it was best used on. Maybe he should just get Kaden something he could drink instead. “You here for knives too? Or are you more of a crossbow person?” He glanced at the kid again, she seemed nice enough… probably harmless. Or as harmless as any hunter ever was. If she was one. Hunters really needed to wear nametags or something.

This man was clearly going for hunter metals which wasn’t the most comforting thought, until he mentioned the stripes. Ariana grimaced at the thought of stripes and how she had almost been stuck with them. You ghost one mime on Tinder and suddenly they were all out to get you… or maybe they realized she also ate one of them once. Not that it really mattered. “Silver or iron, huh? And stripes… someone who likes silver and iron knives, but hates stripes. Wouldn’t also happen to be grumpy and French, would he?” Was this one of Kaden’s friends? If she helped pick a knife for Kaden, it was a lot less likely to end up in her own side. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but her brow raised in question all the same. She picked up another one of the silver ones despite the minor rash beginning to form on her hands. It had some nicer designs along the handle though she wasn’t sure how much Kaden really cared for aesthetics outside of his hair and pies. The smile that thought started only grew as this man joked around with her. “I know, it’s a tragedy… or maybe not, I’ve never been great with makeup. Knives are a little more straight-forward.” Not as much as teeth and claws, but they did the job. And were a lot less obvious. She handed the knife over the man and made sure to not show her now slightly irritated palm. “Nah, I was actually looking for the candy store,” she said with a smirk before she gave the real answer, “But yeah, never know when you’re gonna get attacked by a mime or some shit in this town. I can throw a hell of a punch, but… better safe than sorry. And yes, I do know how to use a knife. Both for cooking and as a weapon.” She realized they were having a pretty good back and forth, so she added, “I’m Ari, by the way.”

French? Harsh blinked. It was a small town after all. A smile snuck onto his face as he nodded. “He is. Although, I think he’s faking, I speak French better than he does. I bet he’s Canadian French,” he said, voice dropping slightly, as if conveying a deep secret. So she knew Kaden. That figured. Well, as far as hunters went, he wasn’t so bad. Huh, the more he looked at this kid, the more she kind of looked like Kaden. Shit, how old was Kaden? If this kid was twelve… Kaden could’ve had a kid young. Humans did that sometimes. Her not being all French was weird, but maybe she grew up here. Shit, why didn’t Kaden ever tell him he had a kid? “Oh yeah, the mimes are a real hazard, gotta keep an eye on them. Y’know, the first time I ever met Kaden, we got attacked by one. Good times.” He took the knife, testing the weight. It seemed fine too. Maybe a little unbalanced. “I’m Harsh, nice to meet you. I don’t think Kaden’s mentioned you before, but I get it. Probably doesn’t want you hanging around his hunting buddies. Do you take after him?” If she was a hunter, she was still dangerous, even if she was just a kid. Maybe her mom was normal though. That would be just like a hunter, train them young even if they don’t get the hunter powers.

Making fun of Kaden? Ariana decided she liked this man already. That paired with the fact she could practically hear Kaden cursing in French at the thought of this whole conversation. It brought a devious grin to her face as she agreed, “You know, I always knew his French accent sounded phony. And he does talk about poutine a lot.” Another knife caught her eye as it had a nice leather cover for the blade. She picked it up and it reminded her eerily of one of Celeste’s which probably meant it was good though it wasn’t the most comforting thought. Clearly this guy knew Kaden was a hunter though, why else would he be gifting him knives for his birthday? Still, he didn’t seem ready to use one of the knives on her and didn’t quite have a feel for them so that pointed to the conclusion that he probably couldn’t detect her no matter how many times that fun little paranoid thought popped right on up. “That sounds like the worst first meeting ever, but for Kaden, that doesn’t surprise me. I think we’ve both pissed the mimes off at this point. Talk about silent but deadly.” Then it came, he indicated he was one of Kaden’s hunting buddies and boy was he fucking right. Kaden didn’t want her hanging around his hunting buddies. Probably because a good chunk of them would want to kill her. And wait-- did this Harsh guy just ask if she took after him? Did he think Kaden was her dad or something? How old did he think she was? Actually, this probably wasn’t a bad rouse to keep up. “Nice to meet you, Harsh,” she said brightly, maybe even a little too much so, “You know Kaden, that sounds about right. He can be a little protective. But yeah, you could say that I take after him. We’re both pretty good at taking down beasts… and mimes. What about you?” Way better for this hunter to think she was a beast hunter than a werewolf, right?

“Right? He’s definitely just from Quebec.” Kaden was going to hate this. Harsh couldn’t stop grinning. This kid was pretty okay. He had never cared much for kids one way or the other. They weren’t really an option for him personally and a lot of them kinda seemed annoying, but Ari was alright. And she seemed to be buying the hunter thing so far, so that was a big plus. “It wasn’t great. The mime looked just like him. Worst date ever. Uh, not that it was a date. Cause dating Kaden would be gross.” That was close, good save. It hadn’t been a date, not really. Harsh had maybe been angling for that beforehand, but Kaden hadn’t gotten the hint. And it was old news anyway. Plus, his kid probably wouldn’t want to hear about that. Better to move on and just not talk about that. “I’m alright with mimes. I do better with bloodsuckers. Which is why I’m a little lost here with the knives. I usually stick to stakes. And usually it doesn’t matter too much what kind of material those are made out of.” There were a few exceptions to that, as he had learned. This whole ‘fake slayer’ thing took a lot more research than he would have expected. He had to actually sound like he knew what he was talking about. Such a pain. He picked up another knife. Looked like silver too, with a little wolf etched into the hilt. That seemed offensive somehow. Maybe Kaden would like it. “He’s a good guy, I feel like I should get him something nice. But you know him better than me. Do you think he already has enough knives?” He probably did. What else did Kaden like? Maybe something obnoxiously French. Harsh frowned, brow furrowed as he tried to think. It was hard with that soft, weird noise coming from the back of the store. Something was squeaking up a storm back there. He glanced over the counter. “Do you hear something?”

“Someone better update his Yelp reviews,” Ariana quipped in response. The smile on her face only grew. Even when he wasn’t around, there was something fun about messing with Kaden. It was probably all the French swearing. Then, here eyes widened like saucers when Harsh said the word date. Kaden had gone on a date with this guy? What? It dawned on her she didn’t actually know how long he and Regan had been dating, but it was definitely as long as she had known him. Clarification soon came albeit in a manner that wasn’t the most convincing, but she’d take it at face value. The moon knew she didn’t always say the right fucking thing. “Oh yeah, the fucking mime twins. Those were the worst. I had to e-,” she cut herself off quickly and tried to recover, “Fight my mime twin, too. She wasn’t cute. But hey, Kaden’s not totally gross. He makes good pie. Still mimes are not a fun way to meet.” The last bit came out a bit rushed as she literally almost told a hunter that she ate her mime twin. Ate. Not stabbed or shot. Ate. A very distinctly werewolf thing to do. Good going, Bennett. There was a slightly puzzled look on her face about her knowing Kaden better but she decided to go with it. “He does enjoy a nice knife though I think the wolf may be a little too… not in good taste,” she noted biting back any hint of anger the knife made her feel, “He really likes baking, too. And flannel. I think a knife fits though-- for your friendship with him since you know, hunting buddies. Gifts aren’t so much about what they are as much as they’re about who they remind you of.” A chorus of squeaking caught her off guard and her head whipped over to make out what the sound was as she caught wind of an animal-like smell. “I definitely hear something,” she said as she followed the sound as she heard a scream, “Oh, what the fuck?” Was that… a bunch of rats? That seemed to be morphing into a larger, scarier rat? “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we’re in a knife store,” she said, gripping the knife she had in her hand still as she lunged toward the rat monster.

Why had he said it like that? In front of Kaden’s fucking kid too. It didn’t matter that Harsh had maybe thought the meeting was a little more than it actually was. That was so far in the past. Kaden was his buddy, against every rational thought and hint of self preservation he had. And now here he was, chatting with his daughter. When the hell had his life turned into some kind of bullshit sitcom? But it probably wasn’t going to have a great season ender if they ever figured out the real reason he could never grab a round of drinks down at the local hunter bar. “Shit, you had one too?” Maybe that was a family thing. “I killed Kaden’s. Which was… kind of horrifying.” Harsh found himself frowning, a little annoyed at how that wasn’t quite a lie. Which was fucking strange. He didn’t actually care about Kaden. That soulless gaping void inside wouldn’t let him. But there was no thrill in the rearview mirror, no rush at the thought of taking out something that even looked like a hunter. Hell, talking to this kid, there was no urge to take the knife in his hand and see if it worked just as well on hunters as it did on wolves. That should be there. But… nothing. The idea was actually… not pleasant if he let it sit there. Weird. He was getting soft in his old age maybe. “Yeah, no on the wolf then,” he said, setting the knife down. “Flannel might be good. You think they have any plaid knives?” The squeaking was getting louder and weirder until the mound of twisting, shrieking rats burst in. Oh. Gross. It figured even the pests couldn’t just be normal here. “Shit--” This kid was definitely a hunter. Someday he would hang out with someone who’s first instinct wasn’t to launch themself at the closest source of horror as soon as it walked into a room. Oh well. Harsh snatched up the blade he had just set down, rushing after Ariana. He slashed, cutting through a few rats twisted up in the growing snarling mass. But some of them were way more than rat sized. One nearly Ariana’s size leapt at her. Harsh moved without thinking, taking a mouth of sharp teeth to the arm. “Fucking rats--we can’t stab all of them. There’s gotta be something--”

“Yep,” Ariana said matter of factly, “And damn, talk about a first meeting. At least you got rid of his mime.” She was pretty sure Celeste had also encountered Kaden’s mime twin. At least from what she was able to gather from her sister. It was just a relief to be past the point where everyone had their own murderous mime twin out for blood. Stripes and murder looked good on no one. Briefly, her focus shifted back to knives and she laughed at the idea of a plaid one, “A flannel knife, now that’d be unique. Maybe they have a flannel cover for one? Or maybe you just get one engraved to say ‘putain’ along the handle or something.” All talk of knives was gone now as she found herself lunging toward a… pile of rats? Even with her sharp senses, it was hard to get a read on how this rodent mob was moving. Every way it jerked was erratic and had a tendency to take shelves down with it. Great. At least Harsh was following given he was a hunter. A hunter and a werewolf could definitely take on a bunch of rats magically tied together, right? As a rat leapt toward her, she found Harsh intervening and her grip on the knife in her hand tightened. They seemed to move together with purpose, but so chaotically she couldn’t keep up with their next move. She took a step back, kicking one on her way for good measure, “I mean, we could stab all of them, we just might also end up scratched to all hell,” she said incredulously, “I’ve never seen something like this before, but maybe, I know Kaden used fire on a hedgehound before. Since there’s so many, it may be more effective than, well, sta- Ow!” Apparently the rats didn’t like her idea and were nipping at her ankle. The one time she didn’t wear high topped boots. She lifted her foot up to stomp on the ones at her foot, “Fuck off you stupid rat,” she grumbled as she refrained from letting out a more animalistic sound. A wolf was not about to be taken down by a bunch of rats. She was a wolf, for fuck’s sake. For good measure, she kept her knife drawn. “You got a lighter? I’ve got some spray deodorant in my backpack if the- I swear on Post Malone’s life if you don’t stop trying to bite my feet I’m going to turn this joint into a rat barbecue.”

It was probably better to leave out the part where a second weird mim Kaden had walked in the door just after the last one was dispatched. That made him sound a whole lot cooler anyway. If there was a way to be cool when fighting some kind of horrifying mime clone. Harsh certainly hadn’t felt cool at the time. He also very much did not feel cool now. The rat that had sunk its teeth into him was a persistent little fucker, taking at least three sharp stabs before it finally let go and dropped to the floor. Jerking back, he kept the knife in front of him slashing at any of the vermin that tried to leap at them. “Yeah, I’d like to look for a plan B. There’s too many of these fucking things.” Should he be swearing in front of her? Whatever, Kaden cursed like a French sailor, he probably wouldn’t care. So not the time to worry about that crap. Kids seemed more desensitized to that now anyway. She probably heard a lot worse at school. “Fire? That could work. Hang on.” As luck would have it, he did have a lighter on him. Harsh didn’t smoke much, not breathing made it sort of hard, but it never hurt to have a light and a few extra smokes on him just in case. Plus, it made him look cool. Aesthetic was important, even if he couldn’t see himself in the mirror. He fumbled at his jacket pockets, finding the lighter and pulling it free. “Here, this should work.” Even as he said it, he couldn’t stop glancing around, looking for something bigger than a knife. There was an axe on the far wall. It probably wouldn’t do much more than the blades, but maybe they could hack the mass of rats apart if the fire didn’t take care of them first.

Anyone else visiting the shop had long since cleared out. Ariana could hardly blame them. She would much rather be far away from whatever the fuck his rat atrocity was. It was hard to keep track of its movements as tails, claws, and fur scurried around her. Which was bullshit. A pile of rats attacking a wolf. While Ariana didn’t necessarily consider herself to be inherently better than others, it really wasn’t too much to ask that rodents and produce knew their place in the food chain. It took a concentrated effort to keep her claws in place and not accidentally go a little wolf-y in front of this hunter guy who thought she was a hunter. At least she could still stab the little shits and she did as they lunged toward her again. “Too many is an understatement,” she grumbled as she just barely dodged more tiny yet surprisingly fucking sharp teeth. “Hanging on here but quicker we get some fire the better,” she said as she kept swatting at rats with her knife. Once the lighter was out, she grabbed it and directed, “Watch my back for a minute.” She fumbled around in her backpack momentarily before pulling out the spray can filled with deodorant she had on her for rainy days. Here goes nothing. She held the lighter up far away from her and carefully aimed the spray nozzle toward the slew of rats charging her. “Harsh, keep your distance,” she said quickly and confidently before she pressed down on the spray nozzle causing a large frame to hit the rats… And singed her fingers, but that hardly mattered. A storm of squeaks erupted through the shop followed closely by the pungent smell of burning rats. She stood her ground and tried to concentrate the flame toward the rats, but some of the fliers and carpet were decidedly also toast. Literally. It didn’t take too long for the squeaks to fade and the rats to turn to ash. She turned to Harsh as she let out a sigh. “Something tells me we should probably ditch the scene before cops and firefighters get here.”

Of course a hunter kid would know how to make a homemade flamethrower. Not that Harsh was complaining. Hell, he should have been taking notes. He ducked back, staying well clear of the flames. They did the trick, quieting the squeaking a little gruesomely. If he were human, the smell of burning rats probably would’ve turned his stomach. Grimacing at the pile of ash, he nodded. “Yeah, don’t really want to stick around to explain this. C’mon, lets head out the back.. Less questions that way,” he said, already making for the door. It looked like whoever was supposed to be running the store had headed out when the rats made their way in, leaving the back door wide open. Either that or… maybe the rats ate them. Probably better not to think about it. He shot Ariana a grin. “It was cool meeting you. I’ll see you around, yeah? Hopefully… with less killer rat piles next time.”

#wickedswriting #harsh #wolf bat and rat

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nobody-wants-ice-cream · 4 years

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Everything Wrong With The Umbrella Academy. Episode 1, We Only See Each Other At Weddings and Funerals.

Some context before the cut: This is all in good fun! I wanted to do a really nitpicky re-watch of the series and found some really cool and interesting things I didn’t notice before. This is meant to have a Cinema Sins-esque tone. However, I did take off a lot more sins than Cinema Sins would have because I do genuinely like the series and the people that made it possible. So all of the good things got one sin off and all the bad things got one sin added. This is a really long post, so grab some popcorn. If there’s anything that I missed, feel free to add it!

We Only See Each Other At Weddings And Funerals

The story opens with a random scene. I know why this is important now, but for a first time viewer this is a strange Russian show with no subtitles. Sin for the fact that this opening scene could drive away audiences when they could have opened with Pogo’s monologue or the sudden birth scene. +1

Sudden birth. I know that this is what starts the whole series, but not once do these assholes discuss the implications of sudden birth. That shit is traumatic and must have induced a lot of trauma in the mothers. Sinning for trauma. +1

The russian ladies all help this poor girl. Teamwork and togetherness gets a sin off. -1

How did they get her swimsuit off enough for her to give birth without just taking the whole thing off? Did one woman happen to have a pair of scissors on her so they could cut the crotch? Because one piece suits are not that flexible downstairs. They didn’t take it off her, it’s still covering her. Sinning for lack of realism or explanation. +1

This narration should have happened much sooner. +1

Buying children. Literally buying children. And he gets seven so he buys them wholesale. Seven sins because Sir Reginald Hargreeves is a dick that bought seven children. +7

One sin off for the soundtrack now. All the songs used in this show are bops! -1

Ellen Page starts playing the Lindsey Stirling Phantom of the Opera piece on the lowest string when the piece starts on a high note. One sin for lack of musicality. +1

Minus one sin for Ellen Page’s vibrato. Not many people pretending to play the violin get that so accurate. That or this was the talented body double. Either way one sin off for musicality. -1

“Please send more food” Reginald Hargreeves is a dick to his adopted children. He didn’t feed Luther enough, so who knows what he did to the ones he didn’t like as much. +7

Also, Luther has presumably spent four years in this base on the moon. Did he hit his head every morning? You would think that he would learn to duck. +1

One sin off for the moon plant. -1

I’m taking 10 sins off for the special effects of this entire series. -10

That car transition between Diego’s and Allison’s entrances was out of place. I know it’s meant to show that Allison is far away from the action. But did we really need that? It’s not shown when transitioning from the red carpet to Klaus in rehab. +1

What is keeping the lawnchair that Luther has on the moon down? It looks lightweight. Does he have it nailed to the moon? Is there now a lawnchair on the moon forever? +1

Tom Hopper is an excellent actor. He nailed the “just got the news that my father is dead” without saying a single word. -1

Diego doesn’t bother to untie the family he saves. He caused property damage and severely injured the thugs that broke in. No wonder Patch has a problem with him being a vigilante. +1

“Allison, will you wear Valentino to the funeral” +1

One sin off because Robert Sheehan has already won my heart as Klaus and he hasn’t said a single word yet. And for the little jig he does when he gets the drugs. Interesting choice, but I like it. I could be biased because I’ve watched the series already, but I don’t care. One sin off for Robert Sheehan. -1

Why was Vanya allowed to be playing to this empty theatre with spotlights on her? Does she have an arrangement with maintenance? Is that why the orchestra isn’t set up? +1

One sin off for the Hargreeves mansion. The set designers did an amazing job.-1

Creepy shrine portrait of Five is creepy and somehow manages to not look like Aidan Gallager. This could be a stylistic choice to show that Reggie didn’t care about Five, in which case, another sin for child abuse. +1

Creepy statue of Ben is creepy. And it doesn’t look like Justin Min or Ethan Hwang. Who is this statue honoring? +1

It has been stated that Ben’s death broke up the academy. Yet, the other four assholes stuck around for one more portrait after his death? +1

Vanya doesn’t close the doors behind her when she walks into the mansion. +1

Diego’s outfit is central to introducing his character. However, it is dumb as hell and he probably stabbed himself with the knives in the harness multiple times. Especially the ones on his back. +1

Diego is a dick to Vanya at their father's funeral. I know Reggie was a jackass, but Jesus Christ, Diego. Have some tact. I know this is meant to show that Diego doesn’t have any tact, but this is such a severe line. +1

In the first shot of Reggie’s bedroom there are 6 freaking lamps. What is he, Bella Swan? And later, there are three more. +1

David Castaneda really brings Diego to life with his interaction with Luther in Reggie's bedroom. -1

I know I already took sins off for the special effects, but Pogo deserves another two off. Special Effects team, you did good. -2

“How long has it been since Five dissapered” is the most obvious bit of exposition/foreshadowing. To the point where it reads lazy. Another option would be Vanya asking “How long has it been since” and trailing off from there. Pogo knows what happened. This is a crucial reveal, let the audience wait for it a bit. +1

One sin off for Vanya being a good sister to Five. Fluffernutter sandwiches and leaving the lights on is heartwarming. -1

Props to these child actors for being able to portray the way Reggie treats them and how that affects their emotions in the scene where they wanted to say goodnight to Reggie. -1

However, Reginald Hargreeves is a dick to his adopted children. I will keep sinning this. +7

After Reggie shuns and ignores his children, Luther’s hand on Ben’s shoulder is a subtle way to show that Luther and Ben were sort of close, which is what an excerpt from Vanya’s book implies in the comics. Good job directors or actors for making that choice! -1

Robert Sheehan in the office scene. This is where we meet Klaus as an audience for the first time with dialogue, and he fucking nails it. -1

“Thank God he’s not our real father so we couldn’t inherit those cold dead eyes! Ahh! Number Threee-” The delivery on that line is excellent. -1

Klaus’s dangly necklace that looks kind of like dog tags foreshadowing the real dog tags he wears later on in the show. -1

No way in hell Klaus’s skimpy outfit provided enough concealment for that massive box. In fact, in the shots we do see of his back, we should have seen the outline of the box. +1

Sir Reginald Hargreeves is as obsessed with lamps as he is with collecting children. His office is full of them! +1

“Do you think he wears that thing in the bathroom” “Like in the shower” “Yes, absolutely” Allison and Luther have some good interactions. This is where they really act like siblings making fun of another sibling. -1

A woman who told bedtime stories to her kid about her uncle on the moon forgets that said uncle has been on the moon and judges him when he doesn’t know about her divorce.+1

“Rumor thing” Way to be specific, Luther. +1

Allison’s expression at the family meeting when she takes a sip of her drink. Emmy Raver-Lampman is what makes this character likeable. -1

Reginald Hargreeves was a dick to his children. The whole favorite spot thing? Yeah that. Golden child abuse victim. +7

Sir Reginald playing tennis with Hitler line. -1

Luther accuses his siblings of killing their father. Have some tact man, not at the funeral. This makes sense for the character and his circumstances, but I am still sinning it because Luther doesn’t think he did anything wrong. +1

I feel kind of bad for Luther after his siblings leave the room. Great acting on Tom Hopper’s part. -1

How did Allison get into the bank? +1

Luther straight up throws this man out of a building! That guy is 100% dead. And then he admonishes Five for being a killer later! +1

“Guns are for sissies, real men throw knives!” is a line that would only be spoken by a twelve year old that has never faced the judgement of people he isn’t related to. Also, Diego practiced this line in front of a mirror. +1

But that throw was badass, so... -1

Also, how did Klaus, Diego, Five, and Ben get into the bank as well? We only see Luther enter. And presumably Five teleported in. So were the rest already in there? +1

Five manages to jump faster than a bullet here, but in episode two he’s a lot slower when jumping from one side of the table to the other. You could make the argument that the table is in the way, but there was a human being and a bullet in the way here. +1

“Woah! That’s one badass stapler!” This is the first sin off because Aidan Gallagher can act, and it will not be the last. For all his grumpy 58 year old man, he also manages to shine while playing a young version of said grumpy 58 year old man. You would think that one or the other would be a little weak, but no he nails both performances. -1

But, how did Five switch the gun and the stapler? And why do we never see him do this again with more useful items like a briefcase or one of the machine guns used by the local commission hires? Can he only switch items with a similar mass? How does this power work? +1

Luther is the one that tells Ben that there's more guys in the vault to kill. Not Klaus who could have been like “a ghost said there's more guys in the vault”. What exactly did Klaus do on missions? He isn’t shown helping the hostages or fighting in any way. +1

“I didn’t sign up for this.” yeah Ben, like it’s a summer camp and not your abusive father buying you as an infant and then forcing you to kill people. +1

Kenny’s mom appearance. Also, the woman mixes leopard print leggings, a black dress, a square pattern cardigan, and a hat with stripes and a pom-pom. +1

“Can we go home now” Ethan Hwang had great delivery on that line. -1

Sir Reginald Hargreeves is a dick to his children. He forces 6 of them to kill, and then makes it seem like it’s all fun and games to the one he isolates. +7

When did they get coats and scarves? Did Reggie bring them coats and scarves while coming down to address the crowd? +1

Also, Reggie was on the roof of a different building with vanya! What did the kids do while they were waiting for him? Stand around and look pretty? Not likely, Ben was covered in blood. +1

Also, when did Ben have time to clean up? He is significantly less bloody in the scene where Reggie talks to the press. Yet his mask, uniform, and a bit of his jaw still have blood. This suggests he had time to wipe down. What kind of magic wipes are these that soak up and remove blood quickly and where can I get them? +1

The way the children wear their scarves show their personality. Luther has it done properly, Diego has his flapping around, Allison and Klaus have tied it fashionably, Five has it done well, but not as proper, and Ben has it done like Luthers. Well done costume people or actors who made that character choice. -1

The entire scene when Klaus attempts to summon Reggie from the afterlife. -4

I forgot that Klaus actually calls him Reggie in this scene. I thought it was just a fandom thing lmao. -1

How did Klaus clean up the ashes without leaving evidence on the bar? Did he vacuum it? +1

The cutesy fighting posters are a great set design choice. -1

Allison had her trauma tattoo refreshed at some point. It’s faded on Klaus, but on her it’s perfectly visible and stark. I’m sinning because they don’t show or tell why Allison might want to do this. +1

Also, that guitar Klaus was cuddling in a later scene, was just in the kitchen for some reason. Why? +1

Five and Ben are not part of the I Think We’re Alone Now dance party. I know it’s for plot, but come on! They don’t even have another dance party later to make up for this. +1

Diego and Vanya totally saw each other when Diego went to close the door between the foyer and the living area. +1

Luther and Vanya’s dance moves. No hate on either though because I dance like them if it isn’t swing or any other partnered dance +1

Diego, Klaus, and Allison’s dance moves. -1

Also, the song is heard all the way in the kitchen. There is no soundproofing in this mansion. +1

Luther punching down the airplane is funny. -1

David Castaneda doing those amazing dance moves in character. -1

Oh hello Five. Nice of you to show up and kickstart the plot into being something other than washed up superheroes are really sad and abused. +1

“Daddy!” -1

Why were Five’s powers affecting random objects? +1

Klaus is the only one with self preservation. “I vote for running” +1

“Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me” is a great line because Klaus can see the dead. However, the dead don’t show up in massive portals, otherwise something like that would have happened when we see Dave in The Day That Wasn’t. +1

Five asks for an exact date and then Vanya gives him “the 24th” real specific, Vanya +1

Five doesn’t close the fridge properly because that doesn’t matter in the apocalypse -1

“In the end I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time” “That makes no sense” “well it would if you were smarter” the mark of someone being smart is being able to explain concepts like this in layman's terms. If Five were as smart as he said he was, then he could have been able to come up with an analogy. That or the showmakers have no clue what they’re talking about and wrote a bunch of science-y bullshit to make Five sound smart. +1

Diego was ready to throw hands with Five, someone who looks thirteen and was thirteen until Five explained otherwise. +1

“Dolores kept saying the equations were off” so in other words, Five knew that his equations were off, but he still risked it. +1

But also, Five knew his equations were off, but he was so desperate to see his family that he risked it anyway. -1

Nations Gazette paper has articles that look like they’re actually about the headline. -1

“What part of the future do you not understand.” -1

Aidan Gallagher’s delivery in that scene really set the tone for his character. Impressive. -1

Five decides to dress in the full on school boy getup. Complete with the tie and the blazer when those items aren’t necessary. +1

Aidan Gallagher and Ellen Page are two kick ass actors. They play off each other surprisingly well. -1

“You mean like what happened to Ben” “Was it bad?” What happened to Ben? This remains a sin until they explain it. +1

“May the darkness within you find peace in the light” that sounds really bad. What a horrible thing to have on your statue. +1

Jordan Claire Robbins’s performance of Grace -1

Luther and Diego are so emo that they don't need umbrellas. You’re in The Umbrella Academy! This had to be a personal choice to not carry one. +1

Klaus’s face when Luther dumps out the ashes. -1

The camera cuts to Five when Diego says that Mom gave them actual names. -1

The fight between Luther and Diego is stupid. +1

Klaus and Five fight over who is going to protect who. +1

“Stop it!” “Hit him! Hit him!” -1

The detail on Ben’s statue. It shows his toe and knee have been touched many times by people who presumably miss him and love him. -1

Luther punches Ben’s statue in the crotch, which makes Klaus’s face 10x funnier once you remember that Ben was probably there too. -1

Luther punches Ben’s statue in the crotch and beheads it, suggesting that Luther had something to do with Ben’s death. -1

Luther punches Ben’s statue in the crotch. +1

Klaus puts his cigarette out in reggie’s ashes. -1

Reggie narration +1

Reggie is a dick to his kids +7

The stupid, bright green jumpsuits +6

What is the point of this exercise? How does running up the stairs make them better heroes? +1

Young Diego either practiced “That’s not fair, Five’s cheating” or his stutter is only there when the plot calls for it. +1

Child Abuse tattoos +12

The fact that Vanya feels left out because she didn’t get a child abuse tattoo. Reggie, you fucked up these kids real bad. +2

We think that Reggie is comforting Luther after he got a child abuse tattoo, but no, he’s actually just attaching monitors to his head. +1

Reginald Hargreeves likes to watch young children sleep. +7

Vanya foreshadowing. Her monitor showing more activity then the cut to her taking one of the pills is brilliant. -1

Vanya still doesn’t close the academy door behind her when she leaves. +1

“An entire square block, 42 bedrooms 19 bathrooms” Five are you a real-estate agent now? +1

“Dad hated children too, but he had plenty of us!” Klaus would be excellent at cinema sins. Seven more for child abuse +7

What are the rules to Five’s jumps? We only really see him jump to places he can see unless he is time traveling or in the instance where he jumps to the car. Speaking of, the car had the keys in it. Reggie, are you trying to get it stolen +1

Diego is a dick to Allison about her divorce. +1

Klaus and Diego’s interactions make me happy. -1

The Klaus theme is a wonderful piece of music. -1

Robert Sheehan making David Castaneda laugh. -1

We get our first glimpse of Luther’s arm here. It’s super weird and vague and only teases the reveal. This is where the ape reveal should have been for the audience and where it would have made sense. Doing the reveal in a later episode is weird. +1

Five doesn’t know how to break correctly, which contradicts “I know how to do everything” +1

Something I just noticed, Five completed the uniform not only with the tie and blazer, but with the hair gel too. +1

The towing guy chooses to sit next to Five at an empty counter. +1

Five looks so offended when Agnes refers to him as “the kid” -1

The creepy smile Five pulls in an attempt to look innocent doesn’t make Agnes scream in terror. Seriously Aidan Gallagher, what the fuck was that that was absoulutely terrifying. +1

Five attempts to relate to a man that looks the age that he should be, but it ends up exceedingly awkward because Five looks 13. +1

The tow truck driver helps him out, but how was Five going to pay for his coffee? We don’t see him with money. Was he just going to jump out to the car? +1

Five never gets his cup of coffee :( +1

“Istanbul was Constantinople/ Now it’s Istanbul not Constantinople”. This whole scene is great. Five plays with them like he did in the bank scene which shows that even if he did age, he didn’t do it around people so he doesn’t have maturity. -1

Five stabs a guy with a mop and kills him. -1

Five stabs a guy in the crotch with a pencil, then uses the same pencil to stab him in the eye. In between he throws a plate at another guy. This is badass. -1

Five jumps in a way that actually does make two of the idiots shoot each other. Which means that technically, Patch was right. -1

Five kills a man with his bare hands. -1

But he stops to put his fucking tie back on. +1

And yet after all that, the goriest thing is when Five pulls the tracker out of his arm. Props to the makeup department and Aidan Gallagher’s acting skill for making that look so real. -1

Five should be way sweatier when he walks out of Griddys. Unless he moped that up with some napkins? What are these super absorbent napkins and where can I buy them? +1

Agnes should be far more traumatized. And definitely shouldn’t have survived that. +1

Diego is emo with the monocle. +1

Luther flashback narration. +1

Klaus, thankfully interrupts this. -1

“Number 6 “Ben” (deceased)” -1

We can see Ben depending on if it’s Klaus or Diego talking. -1

The vigilante mask Diego wears +1

Five jumpscare in Vanya’s apartment. +1

“Rapists can climb” yes Five. Continue with the criminals that can climb. Including you. +1

This whole scene is the best ending to an episode in the entire season. -1

Aidan Gallagher and Ellen Page play off each other with subtle expressions. This acting talent is amazing. -2

“The world ends in eight days and I have no idea how to stop it” “I’ll put on a pot of coffee” roll credits. I love this ending for many reasons. It’s a total mic drop moment. -2

Overall review:

While actively looking for nitpicky things, I got to see the first in a whole new light. Both the great parts and terrible parts stood out in a way that they didn’t when I wasn’t looking for them. Robert Sheehan, Aidan Gallagher, and Ellen Page were the stand out actors in this episode. All three contributed something significant that didn’t heavily rely on the script writers.

The child cast also really stood out to me. All seven of them had very limited screen time (I am counting Gallagher playing a child version of his character in this assessment) and they absolutely made the best of it. Out of all of them, Ethan Hwang stood out to me because of his overall great delivery. I hope that we see him play Ben in a more in-depth way in season 2.

Don’t get it twisted, I genuinely like this series and I think that it tells a great story. I just think it’s fun to nitpick and look deeper. After over analyzing everything else, it’s time to get back to basics. Especially because the season 2 trailer could drop any day now.

Total: 82 sins

Sentence: Tennis with Hitler and Sir Reginald.

#The Umbrella Academy #all in good fun #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #Allison Hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #i worked really hard on this

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snowdice · 4 years

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Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 13)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy, Roman & Remus & Janus

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned, explosions (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 My Master Post

Remy was slumped down in his seat as Emile continued to lecture him on all the possible consequences of his actions over the past 24 hours. Jeezy creezy was Emile miffed about all of that. Remy had been trying to blow it off, but Emile was fully, painfully aware that he’d almost had lost his brother today and Remy was going to hear about it until Emile’s lungs aches.

“And another thing…” he said.

“Wait,” Remy said, and Emile did because there was a lace of panic to his tone.

“What?” Emile asked.

“The tracker stopped working,” Remy answered pushing buttons a little bit desperately on his device.

“It went completely offline somehow,” Remy said.

“Did it get turned off?” Emile asked. “Or run out of batteries?”

“It doesn’t turn off and the batteries are designed to last for years,” Remy said. “It can even track through 20 feet of water. The only way it could stop sending a signal this abruptly is if the thing was destroyed.”

Emile paused. “You said Virgil knows what the blinking light means.”

“Yes.”

“Is it possible that he knows, or well, ‘knows,’ you’re dead? Barbara did send a man after him, he could have mentioned it.”

Remy stared down at the device in his hands.

He pressed a couple of buttons and studied the screen for a moment. “You little shit,” he groaned. “You threw it out the fucking car window, didn’t you?”

“How do you know?” Emile asked.

“Because if I look at the history, it was going at 65 miles per hour down the interstate, suddenly stopped cold, and then went offline probably when another car inevitably crushed it.”

“Ah.”

“Well, at least the fucker’s probably okay. Dammit Virgil! Where are you going?” Remy pushed a few more buttons almost idly as he thought. “Let me get into Virgil’s head for a minute: emo music, dark clothes, would rather have his toenails ripped out than go to parties, makes split second decisions based on little info. Yep! Got him.”

Emile rolled his eyes, but Remy wouldn’t have noticed as he had his own eyes closed. “Hmm. So, I’m Virgil. My bitch mom killed my dad and sent someone after me. I have no idea what’s going on, but I bolt out of there because fuck mom. I want to get the hell out of dodge so I convince someone to drive me somehow, I guess, but where would I want to go? Someplace safe. Where’s safe? Maybe Emile, but obviously that’s not where he went. Or Janus, but he’s too connected to mom. I don’t really know anyone else, especially not someone who could help with this sort of stuff.”

Remy thought for another long moment. “Oops.”

“Oops?” Emile asked. “What oops?”

He could tell by the expression on Remy’s face that he was not going to like the answer. “I may have let something… slip.”

“What do you mean, Remington?”

“Um, well you see,” Remy said. “A couple of months ago Virgil was being, you know, himself: a little shit. He may have, possibly, found some papers.”

“What kind of papers?” Emile asked.

“They were nothing important!” Remy assured. “There wasn’t any dangerous info in them or anything, but…”

“But?”

“It is somewhat possible that they had the name on them.”

“How possible?” Emile asked, eyes narrowed on him.

“He asked what Green Bellow Foods was and why they needed 50 top-of-the line computers outfitted at an old factory.”

“And what did you tell him?!”

“Nothing!”

Emile glared at him.

“Okay, well I had to tell him something,” Remy mumbled. “I just kind of said that I knew the owner well and was working with him on some stuff. Then I told him not to worry about it, which was probably a mistake, because he’s Virgil. So, then I found him snooping in my car. At that point I had to sit him down and talk to him. So, I told him a bit about Logan.”

“Remy that’s not nothing!”

“I didn’t use his name or anything. I just told him a couple of really, extremely, tremendously, vague stories, so he didn’t think I owed money to the mafia. Which, yes, he did suggest.”

“That’s worse!”

“What do you want from me Emile?!”

“Some common sense!” Emile answered. “I’ve been comparing you to the rat in Ratatouille for years, but I’m starting to think you’re more of a Pinky from Pinky and the Brain.”

“Hey, ouch,” Remy replied. “Also, I personally subscribe to the theory that Pinky is actually the intelligent one who is foiling Brain’s evil plots from the inside. So, there.”

“Now is not the time,” Emile said.

“Oh, it’s not the time to discuss cartoon theories?” Remy mumbled into his lap. “Must be serious.”

“It is serious! Virgil is missing!”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” Remy snapped. “I know, Emile.”

There was quiet. Emile took a breath. “Okay,” he said, calmer. “Do you really think he’s going to Logan?”

“He’s headed somewhere,” Remy answered, “and wherever that somewhere is, it’s inexplicably down the most direct route towards base.”

“Well, Virgil is smart. I don’t think he’d just keep going so quickly without a destination in mind. We should call Logan.”

“Do you honestly believe Barbara doesn’t have your phone tapped when Virgil is missing? If you had one of Logan’s phones, I might agree with you, but as it is, we’d be giving away our position, and possibly clueing her into Virgil’s plan. If he shows up at base, Logan will take him in no question. It’s less dangerous for everyone this way.”

“Fine,” Emile said. “We’ll just keep driving towards Logan and hope you’re right about where he’s going.”

“Of course, I’m right,” Remy said lightly. “I’ve got the paternal instincts going on. Course, they didn’t stop the knife throwing incident of ’09. I blame Janus for that, though.”

Emile shook his head at him.

“It is good for when he tries to steal sweets, or that one time he brought home a baby piglet and tried to hide it from me in his bedroom. Or when he’s feeling anxious about something but won’t tell me because he thinks it’s silly.” Remy’s own fingers tapped out an anxious pattern against his knee. “It also worked with the golf cart incident, but it was too late. Again, I blame Janus. He messes with the paternal instinct meter. He’s far too unpredictable and I make the mistake of thinking he’s responsible, which he is half the time, but the other half of the time I remember that he’s still mostly a kid and one that grew up in an unstable environment. Did I tell you that last month they went and won a bunch of tickets at the arcade and used them to get those 5 ticket rubber ducks and just unloaded them all over my room? Honestly, you’d think a 21-year-old would have a better use for his money or at least have the brains to go buy them at a store. He could have gotten like 500 more ducks for the same amount of money. Of course, it was his mom’s money, so I guess I can get behind wasting it on arcade games and rubber ducks. The prank was apparently based on some comedy sketch Virgil found online.”

“You’re doing the thing again,” Emile pointed out calmly.

“Stop psych evaluating me,” he shot back.

“Fine, fine,” Emile said. “Keep distracting yourself from your emotional responses with silly stories. See if I care.”

“Thank you,” Remy replied. “I will.”

Emile sighed as he started back up again mumbling something about having taken away Virgil’s Gameboy after catching him playing it at 3 o’clock in the morning. He claimed this wasn’t because the boy hadn’t gotten any sleep on a school night, but because he’d insulted Donkey Kong to Remy’s face. After that story had run its course, Remy continued to babble at an increasingly fast pace about all sorts of things. Emile imagined most of the stories he sprouted off were quite embellished.

Emile had tried to turn on the radio once, but Remy had slapped his hand away saying, “The next one’s a really good one.” So, he had resigned himself to his fate of tuning out Remy’s coping mechanism to the best of his abilities and just focusing on driving for the next 45 minutes. Which is probably why he noticed that traffic had strangely decreased. He didn’t really pay the fact that much mind until the traffic suddenly increased… in the form of a wall of stopped cars.

“Jenkies, what’s going on?” he asked, as he came to a stop at the end of the line of cars.

“Um…” Remy said looking out of his car window. There, staring into their car with beady black eyes was a cow. As Emile watched, said cow leaned forward to drag its tongue across the passenger side window. “Shit.”

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 14

#sanders sides #remy sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #platonic remile #remus sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #road trips and missing persons #adriana writes #murder mentioned #emile piccani

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obsessionsdumpster · 4 years

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A/N: sooooo idk what this is exactly, I just had an idea and decided to try and write my own fic for once though I’m not sure if it turned out good lol I think it’s a bit too long and I realised I don’t know how to write kissing scenes. Anyway please enjoy and let me know what you think

A Ninja’s Day Off (Kakashi x reader)

(Y/N) stepped into the Hokage’s office, finding Tsunade sitting by her desk, a pile of books and important documents surrounding her.

“Hokage-sama, I’m here to provide you with the mission report”

“Excellent, I’ve already received and deciphered the scroll your team has sent me with all the informations you were able to collect. It seems all went smoothly, good job (Y/N)”

Despite the formalities Tsunade and (Y/N) were rather well-acquainted, being (Y/N) one of the few Hokage’s personal ANBUs meaning that she certainly trusted her. Because of that, Tsunade glanced at the girl standing in front of her and even though she was wearing the ANBU mask, she could clearly see the exhaustion that was radiating from her, hence she spoke: “(Y/N), you’ve been out there constantly completing quest after quest for quite some time now, I know that is due to the high amount of missions the village is currently dealing with, but I can see you’re at your limit, that’s why I’m giving you the permission to take a couple days off in order to rest and recover”.

“Thank you, Tsunade” replied (Y/N) with a smile, and with that, she was off.

When she reached her apartment block, she opened the door and stepped inside. The room was a mess, to say the least: there were dirty clothes scattered all across the floor mixed with random ninja scrolls with all sorts of seals written on them, along with some kunai knives and shurikens all over the apartment. She sighed to herself, realising just how long it had been since she actually stayed in her apartment for more than 10 minutes or so, just enough time to change and pack for yet another mission.

(Y/N) decided that a nice hot shower would help her take away some stress and tiredness, so she headed towards the bathroom, stripped off her clothes and stepped under the hot stream of water that felt so nice on her bare skin.

After she was done, she stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her form, then, feeling her stomach grumble, she decided to head in the kitchen to have a snack.

Unfortunately for her, when she opened the fridge she realised that everything had already expired meaning that she had nothing to eat. Nice, she thought.

That’s when her eyes fell on a small paper bag that was laying on her kitchen table. She reached to it to inspect the content and saw to her delight that inside the bag were three big red apples, her favourite. Besides the apples she saw a small note: ‘figured you wouldn’t have much at home to put in your belly after being away for so long. Enjoy - Kakashi’

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile widely at the kind gesture. (Y/N) and Kakashi had been best friends for a long time now, having been on the same team during Kakashi’s ANBU days and continued to hang out even after he left and became a sensei. To (Y/N) he was more than just her best friend though, for as time passed she started developing romantic feeling towards the copy ninja but always shrugged off those feelings out of fear of ruining their amazing friendship and because of the fact that a potential relationship would have been a rather difficult thing to handle for two Leaf Jounin such as themselves, their positions implying a dangerous lifestyle that put their lives constantly at risk; it wasn’t a secret that a normal love life wasn’t something that two Jounin of that caliber could aspire to. Truth is, she had been told by some people like Jiraiya (though he didn’t seem very reliable) that Kakashi did in fact return her feelings. It’s not that she considered that to be impossible, she had to admit that sometimes she could feel the chemistry between the two of them, but it was like they both shared some sort of unspoken agreement that kept them from bringing the relationship forward, preferring to stay as best friends. She would say she was fine with that, what she cared about the most was being by Kakashi’s side and she really enjoyed their unique friendship but she couldn’t deny that, sometimes, this situation made her kind of sad. (Y/N) thought that things were going to stay like this forever, but she was wrong.

Chewing on her apple, she started cleaning the apartment, picking up all the clothes from the floor and reorganising and storing all her scrolls. After she was done with that, (Y/N) finally sat on her couch determined to either take a nap or just relax. However she found herself just sitting there staring at the wall, boredom taking over as she started repeatedly tapping her foot on the floor. She was so used to so much action in her life that a simple day off was starting to become more difficult to handle than she could have imagined.

Suddenly an idea popped up in her head: ‘you know what? I’m gonna pay Kakashi a visit. He must be at the training ground right now, training with his team. I’m sure it’ll be fun watching him and team 7, maybe I’ll even be able to help him out, who knows’.

Thinking it would be fun to sneak up on them while they were training, (Y/N) approached the training field making sure to suppress her chakra to avoid being detected. She positioned herself on top of a well hidden branch of tree and, rather amused, observed what Kakashi and his team were doing. It looked like they were learning how to conceal themselves, judging from the fact that Naruto, Sakura and Sasuke were all trying to find a good hiding spot to avoid getting caught by Kakashi.

Naruto managed to find a spot on the same tree as (Y/N) without noticing her. An idea popped to her mind and, with a mischievous grin, she appeared behind the blond’s back:

“Yo, Naruto” she said without a warning.

What came next was a scream and then a thud. Naruto had fallen off the tree and was now lying on the ground, his teammates and sensei approaching him, a puzzled look on their faces.

“W-Wh-What was that?!” said a shocked Naruto, followed by (Y/N) making her appearance jumping off the tree and landing in front of them.

“Hi everyone”

And before anyone could say anything, Naruto started screaming again.

“(Y/N)?!?!? Why would you do that??? I was perfectly hiding from Kakashi-sensei until you came and revealed my presence to everyone!!”

“Your ability to conceal yourself from other ninjas is the worst Naruto, it was obvious you were hiding on that tree” said Kakashi before giving (Y/N) his signature one-eyed smile “anyway, (Y/N) you’re back already, what are you doing here?”

“Well it’s my day off, so I though I would pay you a visit you know, to thank you for the apples and to see what you and team 7 where up to” she replied a bit embarrassed, realising she just admitted she wanted to see him on her day off.

“It wasn’t a big deal, really, I just figured you would like them” he said with a smile, scratching the back of his neck, which, (Y/N) thought, was kinda cute. “But since you’re here” he continued “would you mind giving us a hand? After all, ANBUs concealing techniques and chakra suppressing abilities are the best”

“Sure! When do we begin?”

And with that, Kakashi and her began teaching the young Genin all the tricks in the books.

When they finished practicing the sun was setting. All three team 7 members improved their skill a lot, especially Sasuke, but even Naruto did surprisingly well considering he wasn’t very well versed in hiding his presence, being the show off he was.

After saying goodbye to the kids, (Y/N) was left alone with Kakashi who, making sure his students were gone, spoke up:

“Well that was intense...are you hungry? We could stop somewhere on our way back and have dinner, if you would like to of course”

“I would love to! I’m starving, plus we haven’t hung out in a while, it’ll be nice to chat a little”

“Yeah” was what Kakashi replied, though he seemed, (Y/N) thought, to be a bit tense but she shrugged off that feeling once they started walking back to the village.

They decided to stop at one of their favourite cafes in Konoha (consciously avoiding Ichiraku’s ramen to avoid bumping into Naruto) to have dinner together and talk about the usual stuff like mission etc.

(Y/N) really missed talking to Kakashi, he was like a soothing presence to her, his voice never failed to make her feel a little happier then before. Whenever they were sharing these simple moments, even as just friends, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel butterflies in her stomach each time. It was a bittersweet sensation in which she felt both very happy and sad because of the fact that she was in love with her best friend, but would be to scared to actually make a move.

She snapped out of her thoughts when food came and they ate in silence.

When they finished eating their dinner, they both exited the shop and started walking together through the village.

“So how was your last mission? You’ve been gone for quite a while. Tsunade told me it was a very important top secret mission” asked Kakashi after a while.

“It worked out somehow. I didn’t think it would take so long either but we had to deal with something unexpected which caused us to carry out the mission for 3 weeks straight”

“I see” said Kakashi before he went silent again. To be honest he was being pretty silent, not that he was and extremely talkative person, but still when he was with (Y/N) he would usually be more relaxed. This time however he seemed to be lost in thoughts and she found herself wondering what it could be.

They sat on a bench, admiring in silence the starry sky. It was a comfortable silence, each of them appreciating the others presence.

(Y/N) let out a small shiver when their arms accidentally brushed against each other.

“Are you cold?” asked Kakashi.

“No, I’m fine” she answered before letting out a long sigh.

“Is something wrong? Your mind seems to be somewhere else”

(Y/N) was taken aback by his comment, realising she had been just staring at the sky for a while, thinking about him, to be honest. She didn’t exactly know why but she felt the urge to be honest to him so she spoke her mind: “Nothing’s wrong it’s just- I really missed hanging out with you, you know, being with you and just talking about nothing in particular. And it makes me a little sad that these moments have become a rarity lately, because of our schedules and everything...”. She had no idea why she went that far expressing her feelings towards him. Damn this almost sounded like a confession.

When she realised what she just said, (Y/N) turned her gaze from Kakashi, trying to hide her face that was now a blushing mess.

Kakashi didn’t say anything. He was looking at her, a blush of his own barely visible under his mask. (Y/N) had never been this sentimental with him before. Could it be possible that she was trying to tell him what he wished she was trying to tell him? - he thought.

It was now or never, thought Kakashi. She had just opened up to him and now he felt like it was the perfect time to do the same and tell her about his feelings. “There something I want you to know (Y/N)” he spoke up, making the girl finally turn her face towards him with a questioned look.

“I really like you, you know, more than just a friend”.

That’s it. He said it. There was no going back, so he went on “I’ve been acting like we’re just friends but I can’t do it anymore because I think-“ he stopped for a second, thinking about what he was about to say “- I think I’m in love with you and can’t keep pretending otherwise”

(Y/N) stood there, her eyes widened and a shocked expression on her face. There she was thinking she had just made a fool of herself in front of Kakashi for almost confessing her feelings to him, and now she just heard him say he loved her??

Soon enough the shocked expression she wore was replaced with a closed-eyed smile: “I love you too Kakashi” she finally said, then added with a chuckle “I was scared to tell you ‘cause I thought it would ruin our friendship but if you put it like that...”

When she reopened her eyes she saw Kakashi lower his mask (which didn’t shock her much since being best friends for such a long time meant that she had seen his face in many occasions) and leaning forward, cupping her cheek. She did the same until their lips finally met.

(Y/N) thought that the feeling of Kakashi’s soft lips on hers was the best.

After a few seconds, they gently started moving their lips in unison to deepen the kiss.

When the two broke apart, gasping for air, they both smiled at each other.

Maybe, (Y/N) thought, things did change after all.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi imagines #naruto fanfiction #idk this probably sucks #its my first fic so bare with me #fluff #friends to lovers

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