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ephemerensis · 11 months

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Here You’re Safe // Joel Miller x GN! Reader

another platonic gender neutral dad joel moment. TRIGGER WARNING DEATH like of a major character please proceed with caution !!! anyways this took me so long skkshd and the ending is rushed and rlly bad im sorry its 2 am :/ not proofread ALSO!! if i published a poetry book would yall read it :/

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“Anything bad down there?” Ellie jutted a finger towards an empty hall, lined with lockers.

Outside, the wind screamed its grievances, making the old building creak whenever a particularly cruel gust swept by. It was winter in the middle of the country, and as much as the three of you adored the idea of camping outside, the snow violently pouring from the skies argued otherwise.

Thankfully, Joel found a school building nearby before the storm. A high school, it looked like. On the way in, you saw traces of the treacherous cordyceps roots intertwining through the doorway and walls. But you didn’t have much of a choice with the weather, and they were dry. Hardly anyone lived in the area to get infected anyways, and winter seemed to slow them down; the infected. Not the fungi itself. It grew just fine. Thrived even, in colder climates.

“Just you.” You bit back a chortle as Ellie scrunched her nose, almost peeved.

“You know that joke gets fucking old, Joel. I’m not even in there yet.”

The burly man just shrugged, adjusting his rifle strap as he slowed his steps to a halt, “isn’t a joke.”

“He can’t help it, he’s like eighty. Can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” You shrugged your pack off your shoulders, setting it on the floor to get situated for the time being. The man just grunted in response, glancing around the building before taking a seat at one of the long tables that littered the room. They were askew; clearly a struggle took place there sometime, but judging by the copious amount of dust that coated the place it couldn’t have been all too recent. Joel was sure it was clear, otherwise they would’ve heard you by now. The school wasn’t all that large after all.

“Whatever,” piped Ellie, rolling her eyes. She reached for your sleeve, tugging you towards the hall. “Cmon! I wanna explore a little!” Giggling, you let her lead you off, throwing a glance back to Joel before the two of you rounded the corner. His brows were deep set, almost furrowed above his eyes, as they usually were; but he looked about as relaxed as you imagined the man could manage.

“Hey!” he called after you. “It’s mostly dry, but you watch your step, understand? Haven’t cleared it completely.”

The two of you hardly heard him, though, distracted instead by the rows of little blue locked cabinets you’d only read about in passing. A lot of the world before was a wonder after growing up in the QZ. It felt like rediscovering a myth.

“This is so fucking cool!” Ellie ran her hand along a row of them, rattling the metal doors against their frame. It was a wonder they weren’t rusted after all these years, but they seemed almost untouched if not a little dusty.

“Didn’t you go to high school? In the QZ?” You didn’t get to. Before Joel and Tess you were a well kept secret, and after that didn’t change much either. They’d let you out as you pleased after awhile but you never went to school; ‘don’t need to be feeding you FEDRA propaganda,’ so they homeschooled you instead. Mostly Tess. Joel quipped in every now and then but he didn’t usually have the best wisdom to impart onto you. Aside from bedtime novels, that was always his specialty.

“Yeah but it was tiny. Just a gym and some classrooms.” Ellie had her head under a drinking fountain, staring at the pipes as she mashed the button. “This stuff is so metal, literally. It’s like your own little room at school!” Abandoning the fountain when no water emerged, she turned her attention back to the paint chipped lockers, “you think they left shit in here?”

“Like corny love letters maybe,” you tugged on one of locks to test it. It didn’t budge, as you’d assumed. Thoughts of life before were so enigmatic. They were more scared of the math test next class then when their next meal was gonna be. It almost made you jealous. It would if they weren’t probably dead. Better to grow up in hell then suddenly get thrust into it.

Behind you, metal squeaked as Ellie got one of them open, “Oh shit! Wait wait wait, Y/N check me out!” You turned around, lips pursed together in a crooked smile when you saw her. She’d found someone’s baseball cap and sunnies. Ellie flipped the bill back and slipped the sunglasses on, forcing a deeper voice as she swaggered in your direction. “Yooo what’s up bro, you going to my place tonight? Throwing a huge party!”

She pressed her hand into the locker, beside your head, leaning in. The moment your eyes locked eyes behind her darkened frames you both burst into laughter. Shaking your head, you took on a dumb expression before replicating her tone, “man, is Britney gonna be there? She’s a total babe!”

Ellie snorted, sending you both into another fit of toe curling laughter. It was all so absurd. You pushed off the locker when you’d regained your bearings, walking backwards as you tugged on the locks to see if any would pop.

“Is that really how they talked back then?”

Ellie shrugged, tugging on locks on the opposite wall as the two of you ventured forth. “Gotta be, that’s how it is in books.”

One of the locks you tugged on gave way, making you grin as you pried it open. Pulling out a binder, you thumbed through the pages before a little booklet caught your attention.

“Here, catch!” She caught it with ease as you tossed the comic book over.

“No way! Batman!” Ellie flipped through the pages with fervor, pausing in her pursuit down the hall. You, however, continued slowly wandering backwards.

You giggled, shaking your head at her glee.

A sickening crunch wiped the smile off your face.

Ellie gasped, staring at you with wide eyes as you muffled a scream. Looking down towards the source of the noise, you see it.

The semblance of a hand disintegrated under your foot. The body it belonged to seemingly dried out long ago, pressed flat against the wall of lockers it clung to.

The both of you stared a moment, as you slowly backed away in relief. Until you saw the tendrils lurking in the undergrowth, reaching towards you. Worse still, the rumbling sound that suddenly emerged from the upper floor made you blood run cold.

Shit.

Ellie saw it too, bolting first but you were quick to follow.

“Joel!” You called, turning the corner, almost colliding with him. “We have to run!”

“Y/N! Ellie! What’s going on?” The man was already ready, bags slung over his shoulder with a look of bewilderment embedded on his features.

Ellie pushed Joel forward, “Not fucking dry!” The three of you ran, making your way back the way you came. The thundering sounds of footsteps hitting hardwood grew nearer. Joel lead the way, rounding every corner with his shotgun raised.

“Why didn’t they hear us when we came in?” You choked out in a panicked whisper. Normally they came bolting at any noise you offered.

“It’s winter, were probably huddled to keep the hosts alive. Mushrooms can take the cold, but the bodies can’t.” Joel whispered back. The timbre in his voice was almost enough to soothe you, he sounded more tired than distressed as he pressed on.

“What do we do?” Ellie piped.

“Gotta get outta here first.” The three of you cleared another corner, sprinting down a hall. A violent thud against one of the classroom doors made you lose your footing, sending you plummeting towards the ground. You gasped as three runners pounded aggressively against the door, piling and clawing at the ancient thing long enough for the rusted hinges to give way.

“Shit!” Somewhere out of the corner of your eye you see Ellie pull out a knife as the three infected tumbled forward. They piled on top of each other, all scrambling to gain their footing and lunge at the nearest person in the room; you. You shuffled panickedly backwards, working to get up and kick the topmost one off your leg.

Ellie stabs one in the head, making the arm fall limp and successively freeing you. You managed to stand upright, the other two still clawing but trapped under the weight of the first. Joel fires a bullet, ceasing another one’s movement as they three of you back away from them.

Before he can shoot the third, the rumbling gets louder.

You’re all sprinting before you can fully gain your bearings. The burn in your lungs was starting to settle in, but the echos of clicks and groans mixed with the pummeling of foot steps filling the halls kept you motivated. Your heart beat so quickly in your chest, you thought it might burst out.

The doors leading out were in sight, though. The wind that bashed against it was less than inviting, but beyond that— the worn mahogany didn’t budge when you shoved. Ellie reached it first, nearly falling as she bodied the double doors. The snow must’ve piled up outside.

A glance and a nod were all you needed before the three of you charged against it unanimously. Once. The doors shook and the sound resounded, seemingly worsening the agitation of the horde heading your way. A second charge made it squeak open, the biting wind flaying your skin as it made contact. The first of the infected rounded the corner, running at you full force before you’d managed a third charge against the doors.

They burst open, giving way to a powerful gust that hit you like a wall. Joel made sure you both got out before he followed, pressing against the wind to get away.

The infected fared worse. Clickers wouldn’t be able to hear with all this noise, and runners couldn’t manage to fight the wind. Most of then fell behind, the few that persisted did so slowly; sinking perpetually deeper in the plush snow in their pursuit.

Fighting against the biting currents of the frigid wind, the three of you paved a way into the tree line. Immersed in forest, the storm felt better. The trees blocked off some of the wind to an extent, and as far as you were concerned no infected seemed to have tagged along thus far.

The ache in your bones was starting to settle as the storm did. You were deep in the woods by then, no sense of direction or time— but with the way the moon hung so high in the sky it couldn’t have been close to daybreak. Joel slowed to a halt, nodding at both of you before you and Ellie breathed a collective sigh.

Ellie dropped her bag to the ground, almost falling over. Your knees felt a surge of weakness too. The snow looked so soft you could sleep in it. You bent forward, heaving, hands on your knees. If you were born before the whole thing went down the cardio alone would’ve been enough to kill you, it was much better to be born into the apocalypse, you decided.

Thankfully you didn’t leave too much behind. A sleeping bag and more cans of food than you would’ve liked were lost, but you’d find more food and you had two sleeping bags still.

Everything settled enough for you to hear again. Between gasps of breath you could hear the crickets chirping. It was almost tranquil.

Ellie seemed the first to recover, standing up and stretching her arms overhead before stilling. She stared ahead at nothing in particular, cogs processing the monstrosity you’d just escaped.

“That was fucking brutal.”

You looked up to offer a laugh. Her dry humor in times like these were enough to send you into orbit sometimes; but that was when you saw it.

The lone stalker that lurched for her before you could yell a warning. Before you could think you reacted. Grabbing Ellie by her collar, you yanked her forward and out of its path.

Instead, if collided with your arms pushing against its chest with all the force you had left in you to muster. It was stronger, of course, knocking you down almost immediately as it clawed at you. You screamed as it opened its mouth, long tendrils extending themselves towards you, wriggling morosely.

Ellie was still in the thralls of scrambling up, but Joel took notice. A well aimed bullet made it collapse. Joel rushed to help haul it off you as you screamed from the pure terror and adrenaline coursing through your veins, clamoring as far away from it as your shaken body could manage.

He looked at you with a concern you hardly recognized, not that you even looked to see it. Everyone was still a moment until Ellie said your name.

“Y/N…” she said it uncharacteristically nervously, a shaky finger pointed towards the shining red that stained the snow beneath your palm.

You raised your hand to your face, barely able to see in the moonlight, but the indentations of teeth on your marred flesh was unmistakable.

Ironically, your veins felt icier than the frost covered leaves as you stared at it; shell shocked.

This was never supposed to happen. You’d always made it through before, why now? Not you. It could never have been you.

Ellie fell to her knees, fists bunching the fabric of your shirt as she shook you, tears in her eyes threatening to fall. “Y/N what the fuck! Why’d you do that!”

“No. No no no,” you murmured.

“I’m immune!” She was screaming at you now. “I’m fucking immune! I would’ve been—“

The older man cut her off, pushing her hands off you but not with more force than was enough to make her release her grip. He looked at you with the same shock that gripped your eyes. His hands hovered you, hesitant, but the gentle movement broke your stupor. Looking up at him you quivered under the weight of it all, “Joel.”

He looked at you with something you couldn’t quite grasp. It was pity and shock and hurt and all of it but none of it. Somewhere in the confines of his empathy and loving was a deep rooted instinct to compartmentalize. What was done was done. But you needed him now. The bullet was shot, but the dust hadn’t settled.

“Joel, I’m so scared.” Tears were already streaming, and you knew he couldn’t do anything about it; both of you knew. But as his weighty arms wrapped taut around your shoulders, it was good enough a cure. You inhaled, letting his familiar burnt wood settle in your lungs as it’d done a thousand times before.

“Shh, shh. I know baby, I know.” His hand pat rhythmically against your spine.

It’s over. It’s really over.

That’s all you could think. Behind Joel, Ellie just stared silently. It wasn’t out of anger or guilt or even pity. None of these things ever seemed real, and the three of you had been doing this together for so long. You’d survived so much of it all, and she was the cure. The hopeless, helpless cure. What else could she do?

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Joel wasn’t one to sugarcoat or lie. So often he said so little, every morsel of information or sentimentality you could pry from him felt more satisfying than a warm shower on a cold day. Maybe it wasn’t because he didn’t know what else to say. You were in hysterics and at the end after all.

But it felt true.

Your hand throbbed, but not more than the feeling of the ache in your bones— something you’d gotten used to after years of running. The air was stiller than it was before, it didn’t hold the bite of bitter wind it had moments earlier. In fact, after all the snow, it felt clear and crisp in your lungs. The birds cooed their grievances to the world overhead, never ceasing their song even in the middle of night. And the stars were so beautifully bright, it was enough to feel enveloped. Here, in this moment, in Joel’s arms, you were okay.

He’d only pulled you closer, almost swaying you with him as he kept the rhythm of his hand against your spine. You could hear how fast his heartbeat, “You remember that toy rabbit you had as a kid? What was his name? Pete? Peter?”

“Percy,” you whispered after a while. Rabbit was a strong word to describe it. It might’ve looked like one before, but by time it got to you it was anything but. Discarded and trampled on as people rampaged out of cities and infectious conjunctions. It was a mottled gray little thing, with an ear and both eyes missing. The other ear consistently found itself, for the better half of five years, securely grasped in your little hands. Regardless, you loved it. You named it the way you would’ve named a real rabbit, if you could’ve had one before all this. You held it the way you would imagine your parents held you, before all this.

“Yeah that’s right,” his chest vibrated against the side of your face as he chuckled. “You used to carry him everywhere, didn’t you? Thought you were gonna kill me when I took him to wash. Would holler bloody murder, it was a wonder the neighbors never complained.”

The wind settled earlier with the storm, and eventually so did the pace of your heartbeat. You smiled at the memory, strangely bashful. It’s almost an insult to Joel and Tess to say Percy was all you had. They gave you food, shelter, company on some days. But for the first few years he was all you had. He was promised and he was yours. Percy was the first you could ever call your own. It felt often like he was all you had. Especially on nights when the two of them were on runs, and the Fireflies would stir fights against FEDRA outside. Percy shielded you from the sounds of gunshot then.

“Course eventually you outgrew him; which was never bad! Used to get jealous of how often you’d hug it and not your old man.” He sounded wistful. You calmed down enough to pull back, now suffering from a bout of hiccups and sniffles as you tried to regain your bearings. Joel didn’t let you go, though. You stayed in his arms. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, offering a small smile in its place.

How could he be jealous of a silly little rabbit? Percy was all you thought you had then. But you knew better. Joel was all you had ever. He was all you would ever have again.

“Then there was that kid, down the street. Darwin or something?”

Damian. An awkward, lanky, 8 year old boy, with sand colored hair that never lay flat and a tooth that was perpetually missing. Of course, you were 9 at the time and you didn’t want to play with “little kids.”

Joel really sucked with names. You knew that. He was getting on in his years, but even when he was younger— they never stuck for him. People were untrustworthy and irrelevant, it was hard to want to try. So it meant a lot anyways when he halfway blundered the names of your childhood acquaintances. To you what was so fleeting was important enough for him to commit to memory, as cold as he could be. You never thought he’d cared so much.

“Brought you sidewalk daisies for months! Damn near ripped his head off, was about fed up with his yapping and stammering around you.” You smiled at that. Damian’s crush on you was so annoying then, but sometimes on longer days you’d wished someone would love you with the same persistence— even if it was a silly boy a year younger than you. “But you were always pretty, anyone could see it. No one will ever be good enough, though. Or, would be.”

Joel said the last part almost as a whisper. It felt like a death sentence, though you all knew there was no hope for you. A silence settled over your heads, you could feel it in your lungs as you inhaled the air that felt so crisp and clean and clear. Lungs that were still alive and well.

It would be dawn soon. And they had to go. The world was cold and bitter; they needed to get to shelter and then continue to their agenda. They. Joel and Ellie.

And when they went your lungs would still work, and you still breathe in clean crisp air. But they wouldn’t be breathing for you.

So, pulling far enough away from Joel to look him in the eyes you plead wordlessly. They darted between his, begging him to understand their request and praying for him to accept it.

It took a moment, confusion crossed his face before it dawned on him. Though he should’ve known what you wanted.

He shook his head, holding your gaze. It was a cruel thing to ask. To want. How could he when he raised you? When he loved you?

But you just nodded. He had to. It was all you wanted. So the two of you just looked at each other and pleaded. You knew you were going to win. Joel always yielded for you.

Your eyes shifted for a moment to lock with Ellie’s, offering her a small smile. She looked confused, looking between you and Joel as the pieces started to fall into place.

You looked back to Joel again, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him for the last time. Your eyes fell shut and you felt him squeeze you back. It was so warm here.

“Love you, Dad.”

You were safe here.

And that’s the last thing you knew before he pulled the trigger.

—

likes and reblogs appreciated !!

#joel miller x reader #tlou angst #angst #tlou fanfiction #ellie x reader #joel miller comfort #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel miller x male reader

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luminecho · 6 months

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An acquaintance once stopped me on my way to class.

"Are you happy?" he asked me.

"What, just like, in general?" I said, confused.

"Yeah, just in general."

And it's not exactly the sort of existential question you're expecting to have dropped on you at 11 am on a Wednesday. And it was actually my birthday that day, but he didn't know that and it didn't feel super relevant so I didn't mention it. But the question itself made me stop and think after.

Because it's this question that gets asked of us so often in life. Are you happy with where you are now? Do you think you'll be happy in the future? You were so happy when you were a kid. What changed?

And I think when you start to get into adolescence and adulthood, it becomes expected of you to not be happy. Because that's the sort of society we live in today. It's so damn hard to be happy. And it shouldn't be. But it is. Happiness is like this fleeting thing way off on the horizon that people constantly grasp for, and we all do things in desperation to finally reach it, and maybe it works for some and maybe it doesn't for others.

I don't know if the typical college student is happy or not. But I do know that I don't really consider myself the typical anything, and one thing I pride myself a lot in is that I have a very strong understanding of exactly who I am and where I am in life. I'm at a school that I like taking classes that I enjoy. I have a bunch of friends who I love, and maybe they're all online and far away from me but that's okay. I have a bunch of hobbies that I love doing and a bunch of interests that I share with others and each day they bring me a little bit of enjoyment.

So, in that moment, I didn't even really need to think before replying.

"I am," I said with a smile.

And my acquaintance turned to the friend beside him.

"See?" he said, "I told you!"

I chuckled to myself and walked away.

But I couldn't stop thinking about it. Because like... what were they talking about? The scenario I found myself crafting in my head was one where this friend of his was saying that most people these days aren't happy. And maybe they're right. But that doesn't mean no one is happy. And that doesn't mean you can't find happiness. It's out there. It's out there in the little things. In the smiles of strangers and in the soundless laughter of text conversations, in music and poetry and art and the hot lights of a stage. It's in butterflies landing on flowers just beside you, and taking the time to stop and admire it for several minutes even though you know you're missing your bus because somehow the butterfly is just so much more important.

And I think my favorite part is that not only did I get to prove to a stranger that day that happiness exists, but I also got to prove it to myself, both in the past and in the future.

Because what if I had been asked that question a few years ago? In the middle of a pandemic, stuck at home attending high school in front of a computer, feeling like I'm drowning because I don't have the motivation to do my work and the one hobby I've held onto so dearly, drawing, feels like it's slipping through my grasp and I just can't enjoy it anymore and it's this real grief that's weighing me down. Telling my therapist that I wasn't sure who I was yet because I felt like this walking contradiction who longed for things I was too afraid to act on. Would I have said I was happy, then? I don't know.

And what about in the future? When any number of possibilities could happen. Will I say that I'm happy, or will I be stuck in a rut and not know the answer?

I didn't have a good birthday. Some days I'm stressed more than others. Sometimes I get overwhelmed, sometimes I feel like the world is caving in on me.

But the question wasn't, "Are you happy right now?" It wasn't a "How are you doing today?" or a "How's your morning?"

The question was, "Are you happy?"

"In general?"

"Yeah. In general."

And even if today is hard, tomorrow may be better. And if tomorrow is hard too, then you have countless weeks ahead of you that will look different and brighter than they did before.

I'm happy. I'm not happy every second of every day, because no one is. But that's not what "general" happiness looks like. General happiness is just... being satisfied with where you are now. Being comfortable in the new and unfamiliar experiences you're sitting in. And being comfortable with knowing it's all going to change soon.

Happiness is real. And if you don't have it now, then it's still out there, waiting with open hands.

And I just think that's neat.

#echo shouts to the void #echo writes #idk #creative writing #something you may need to hear #i guess. i've never put my own post in that tag

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spiritshaydra · 1 year

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Okay yeah gonna say screw it and just post the fullbody I finished back in November because her ref is taking too long and I wanna share my cringe ass nae nae hellspawn 😭

OKAY SO

THIS IS REQUIEM (Or just “Em”)

And she’s a Megasound fanspawn,, bear with me, I’ve never made an oc like this before so I’ve been extremely nervous to show the creature off. 💀(especially since this is the fancharacter type I avoided making at all costs when in high school despite it leading to some very interesting character development.) Eventually I just said screw it, I’m proud of the design and character work I’ve been developing since August, I’m going to show her off.

I don’t really take her all too seriously as I originally made her to shitpost because I thought it’d be funny. And like my main TFP OC Quantum, she eventually grew past that and became something more. (While still keeping her silly at the same time)

I have. A LOT. Of development for this single celled organism that prolly won’t fit in one post, so on here I’m just going to do a sort of character bio thing (based on the format of Quantum’s Toyhouse bio) to introduce her. (Maybe I’ll do a Q&A sort of thing if anyone’s actually interested in that?)

HERE WE GO:

Name: Requiem (Em for short)

Name Origin: This is what happens when you put a poetry/mythology nerd and a music nerd in a room together and have them name something. You get a name with origins in both music and literature (A music or literary composition that acts as a form of remembrance for the souls of the dead.) annnnnnd a reference to a mythological figure (the name of Megatronus/The Fallen’s weapon, the Requiem Blaster. Gee sure wonder who’s idea that was.) Unfortunately, the goblin who was given that name has a grand total of two brain cells and has as much class as a hagfish.

Gender: female

Pronouns: she/her

Species: Cybertronian

Height: 12ft approximate (for design depicted above)/ 30ft (adult; not pictured)

Alt-Mode: (Base) Cybertronian heavy bomber/ (Earth) Tupolev Tu-160 Blackjack

Home Planet: Earth

Faction: Decepticon

Pre-War Occupation: Did not exist before the war.

Personality: Requiem is loud, stubborn, rude, mischievous, a little naive, and all around a feral mess. Absolutely no filter. Textbook example of “curiosity killed the cat”. The champion of the age-old schoolyard discussion of “my dad can beat up your dad.” For… obvious reasons.

She’s easily bored and easily distracted, and thinks it’s entertaining to mess with other bots in the form of stupid pranks and barrages of questions.

Has a bit of a potty mouth and gets creative with her insults.

A fembo (but a lil mean) was told to use her head in a fight, but ended up head butting the opponent and subsequently knocking them out as a result.

As a result of (EXTREME) helicopter parenting combined with adrenaline junkie behavior, Requiem has the tendency to be an escape artist and to purposely seek out potentially dangerous situations such as but not limited to: Diving into a hurricane (to see what would happen), storm chasing (the bigger the better! Also to see what would happen), playing Icarus and getting struck by lightning on the Flight Deck of the warship (STRIKE ME DOWN ZEUS), sneaking out of the Nemesis and simultaneously smuggling all sorts of creepy crawlies and other organic critters back on board (has to be shaken out just to be sure.), being a little too interested in volcanic activity, sneaking weapons out of the armory and attempting to join the fight, and sneaking away from the ship to “explore”. Em wrangling is a very tiring objective.

If Rumble and Frenzy were alive, they would’ve definitely gotten along. (And would’ve been an unstoppable force of chaos oh gOD.)

She likes the pastel magical horse show about friendship, LOVES stickers, and her absolute favorite color is the most obnoxious eye bleeding shade of pink imaginable. (She was denied changing her PRIMARY paint job color to it for obvious reasons. Honey, that is a LOOK and not exactly a good one.) She likes to pretend to be a gladiator. She likes to give people really stupid and bad nicknames for the hell of it. A favorite being combining the first few letters of a name or descriptor with “uncle”. She thinks it’s hilarious. A little too interested in arson and explosives. Her music taste can be described as “2012 Warrior cats amv” and “noise”. Really likes slasher films for some reason.

She exhibits several behaviors that could only be described as those of a cryptid. (…or cat.) These range from being able to sneak up on others and move without making a sound, staring unblinkingly and expressionlessly at things and other bots, climbing up and perching on top of things, noise mimicry, recharging facedown in a deathlike manner, and the worst thing being how she used to skitter across the walls and ceilings of the Nemesis as a sparkling. There were a handful of instances where she got into the vents of the ship and it was a nightmare trying to coax her back out. Oh yeah. There was a biting problem.

Requiem either hates or actively dislikes things ranging from water, being told to stay still, the thunder part of thunderstorms, the medbay, and being quarantined.

Her social ability leaves much to be desired, as she was raised in total isolation from her own age group, so she lacks most social skills as a result. Because of this, she often comes across as “weird” and as a bully, even if unintentional. Due to her isolated upbringing, she is a very lonely individual despite not exactly acting the part. Being routinely quarantined does not help that feeling of loneliness in the slightest. Em wants nothing more than a friend, or at least an acquaintance to spend time with. It’s just that, given who her parents are, that makes things impossible.

She has a very unhealthy view on death, as it isn’t exactly rare onboard the Nemesis. Surprisingly, she was actively kept away and shielded from most of the fighting as a child- however, in wartime there’s only so much one could be protected from even as the child of the highest ranking individuals of the faction.

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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 1 year

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Welcome to the Black Parade - McR

MCU FANFIC MUSIC FESTIVAL, ENTRY #2 "Emo Party"

Pairing: Loki x Reader (established relationship) Summary: Your Asgardian lover doesn’t understand a certain nostalgic trend that you used to love…at least until he listens to your favorite song for himself. Warnings: smut-adjacency, sad reflection and emoness Word Count: 1k

“A what?” Loki asked, his nose wrinkling with skepticism as you smiled and adjusted your Amy Lee wig.

“An emo party!” you said, excited, observing yourself in the mirror. “It’s a weird theme party my friend Garrett is hosting.”

“And what is emo?” Loki asked, his gaze running up and down your body, drinking in the tight black leather corset and bright red micromini/fishnet tights combo that left nearly nothing to the imagination.

You tipped your head to the side, shaking your head. “Actually, the more I think about this, this is less ‘emo’ and more ‘goth,’ but both of these were trends from when I was in high school, and who remembers what is what anymore?”

“You still haven’t answered me,” Loki said. “I’m beginning to wonder if it’s something you don't want me to know about?”

“Oh no, that’s not it” you answered, shaking your head dismissively. “It’s just a little…secondhand embarrassment. I was just a kid when these were considered cool. Emo was a trend that sort of built itself around mood music, deep lyrics, poetry, darker fashions, and expressing your emotions no matter how depressing they can be. A lot of my friends and I related to that.”

Loki shrugged and looked you up and down. “So this party, you plan to dress like a sexy bank robber and go…feel things?”

You shrugged. “I think you would’ve been into it, honestly.”

“I’ll say I would have at that…”

Loki came up behind you and wrapped his strong arms around your middle. He could only see the tight leather, the naked flesh peeking out from under your shirt and above your corset, the mysterious air that the unnaturally jet-black wig gave to your appearance, the pale makeup and dark green eyeshadow..the chunky, studded jewelry and ankle boots that could double as weapons…

“I would be very into it…” he purred, tracing a lithe finger over your collarbone and down your cleavage, gently nudging his fingertip under your corset and seeking out a nipple to toy with, making you press your thighs together.

“Oh, come on!” you moaned softly. “I’m going to be late. I’m sorry you can’t come, but Garrett wanted this to be college friends only.”

Loki bit his lip and raised an eyebrow, pulling away from you. “Maybe it’s best I didn’t. After all, this is just a silly fashion party or what you call it.”

You slowly pulled away from Loki, his hand desperate to cling to your breast but falling away as you turned to face him. “Silly or not, don’t knock anything you haven’t tried, Loki.”

Loki scoffed. “And tell me, princess, how does one try on this…emo?”

You smiled at his mischievous grin, daring you to accept his challenge and make him a believer. You went over to your closet and reached for a box on the top shelf, full of old CDs you hadn’t listened to since Spotify became a thing. You knew instantly which album you were looking for. After finding it, you quickly walked back over to Loki with snarky confidence, tossing him the CD.

“The Black Parade?” he asked.

You nodded as you went back to your mirror to touch up your lipstick one last time. “Bruce has a boombox down in the library. Go ahead, play it while I’m out and let me know what you think.”

Loki shrugged with skepticism. “Very well, darling, but I don’t see how a few songs--”

“--don’t just listen to the tunes. Listen to the words. Listen to the emotions,” you instructed, making a quick grab for your purse and giving yourself one last once-over in the mirror. “Yeah, Garrett, you’re getting an emo/goth hybrid tonight, so don’t be too pissed that I mixed up.”

You gave Loki a kiss that was a little too short for his liking before you brushed past him and went out the door, smiling to yourself as you purposefully added a little extra swagger to your hips on the way out.

Oh, when you get back, I’m going to spank that leather right off your backside, Loki promised internally, watching your beautiful, shapely ass turn the corner and go out of sight.

-------

Loki did as you’d told him, but he waited a while, closer to the time where you were expecting to return home. He closed the door to the library, found the boom-doohickey Bruce kept in there, took out the Philharmonic Orchestra’s latest version of Madama Butterfly out of the player, and popped in the MCR album you’d lent him. Instead of listening straight-through, he put the CD player on ‘random,’ and Number 5: Welcome to the Black Parade, was set to begin with the touch of a button.

Loki had always appreciated music, and he knew the best way to absorb a new genre or concept was to be completely closed off to anything else but the melody and lyrics, so he found a comfortable sofa, took a seat, and closed his eyes as the first song began…

When I was a young boy My father took me into the city To see a marching band He said, "Son, when you grow up Would you be the savior of the broken The beaten and the damned?"

“Norns…” Loki murmured to himself, the mere mention of a boy and his father evocating some harsh memories in his mind.

Just a man, I'm not a hero Just a boy, who had to sing this song Just a man, I'm not a hero I don't care…

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

You had your fun at the party, but you found yourself growing exhausted before midnight (as was usually the case now that you weren’t 21 anymore) and left a little earlier than you’d planned.

“Maybe I was too harsh on Loki,” you thought to yourself as you re-entered the Avenger complex, making a beeline for Loki’s apartment. “He’s not even of Earth, so perhaps not understanding my enthusiasm for nostalgia is forgivable…”

You could hear your MCR CD playing from the library down the hall. He’s still listening, is he? You smiled.

Heading into the library, Loki was lying supine on the sofa, staring blankly up at the ceiling, looking completely lost in thought.

“Loki? Are you okay?”

“You handed me a therapist on record, woman,” Loki murmured quietly. “Every word, every note, is tailor-made to milk every last insecurity from my mind and force me to analyze it in the key of D major. All bitter memories of my so-called-father's treatment and expectation of me has been dug out of their graves and are now keeping me on the edge of an emotional precipice! Blast you, these men could make Odin Allfather weep like a babe!”

You tried to stifle a giggle. “Oh? Um…so…you like the album, then?”

Loki waited a long time to answer.

“...yes.”

-----

@mochie85 @lokisgoodgirl @roruna @holdmytesseract @muddyorbs @xorpsbane @mischief2sarawr @fictive-sl0th @silverfire475

#loki #mcu #mcu loki #fanfiction #loki fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #loki x reader #loki/reader #loki laufeyson #emo #MCR #welcome to the black parade #music festival

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dumblilb · 1 year

Text

UNAPPROACHABLE ゚☆

Frank iero x Fem!reader

(Summary: she was terrifying, no one should be that kind of perfect. But he didn’t care. She didn’t scare him.)

(This is set in the Im Not Okay (i promise) music video universe and it’s loosely based on it. So they are all seniors in high school besides Mikey who is a junior.)

(Warnings: lots of fluff, a lil angst, a little physical violence (not in the relationship), and cursing)

(Words: 4412)

* ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ * ・゚☆

She’s the schools most unapproachable girl. Her pretty hair and bright eyes make gazing at her almost uncomfortable, because no one knew what would happen if she caught you. But that was the problem. People would just assume who she was.

How she behaved. Because putting in the effort to find out who was under the porcelain structure she upheld in the halls was to taxing of an idea. Which means no one knows besides her small group of friends that she is a genuine and kind girl who wouldn’t hurt a fly.

No matter who it was she would always greet a person with a smile. An optimistic shield surrounded her in her daily life to hide the anxieties that riddled her brain when she was behind closed doors. She knew no one would truly ever understand or like her for her because no one ever cared enough to find out for themselves.

That was till she met him.

He didn’t give a fuck who she was when he sat down in the chair next to her, during a random third period. He just new he was annoyed.

“Mr. Iero please move yourself away from Mr. Way and Mr. Toro. How about…. Hmm, ah yes. Next to miss (l/n).” The older woman hummed as she turned away from the ineligible chicken scratch she was writing on the board. The noises coming from the back row distracting her.

“Ugh…” he whined picking up his notebook and a banged up pen, bringing it to the table next to the girl. A loud thud sound echoing in the room as he sat down dramatically.

His notebook was covered in sketches and what seamed to be paragraphs of what stylistically, the girl assumed to be poetry. A few staples holding the corners on for dear life.

He looked up at her and all she could do was what she did best. She gave him a soft smile, hoping to make him feel at ease in his new chair at the front of the room. He just rolled his eyes and started to hit his pen on his notebook in a drumming fashion. Which explained why it looked almost chewed up.

She adjusted herself in her seat making sure her uniform looked straight. She could feel his eyes boring into her every few seconds. But she couldn’t help but do the same. The way he looked made her head go all fuzzy. He didn’t look like the rest of the people at the school. From his haircut, to his lip ring, to the way his uniform fit. She was entranced.

But for the first time she would be the one caught staring.

“Why do you keep looking at me all weird.” He asks in an almost offended tone. He sees her eyes widen as she quickly removes her gaze from him. He could tell she’s never been called out so blatantly before. He found it almost funny.

“Oh! Im sorry. I didn’t mean to be so rude.” She apologized profusely. He saw her sink into herself. Her confident façade melting away at his words. He felt a little bad. She almost seamed terrified of her self because of what she had done. Which frankly wasn’t a big deal. He was pretty much doing the same thing. He was just better at hiding it. As he looked at her eyes, he sighed and softened his gaze.

“No I’m sorry that was rude… I guess. You’re fine. I’m just annoyed.” He explains softly, causing her to look over at him.

“Cause she moved you from your friends? Yeah that sucks.” She agreed looking down at her hand with a tingling feeling in her cheeks. The way he looked at her made her feel things she hadn’t before. His eyes are a bright hazel color that stand out in contrast to his rich black hair. His lip ring made staring at his lips almost impossible and she didn’t understand why.

She wasn’t used to being the one who was nervous. Normally being on the receiving end, but he was screwing with her head. She just didn’t know she was doing the same. He was in utter shock by the kindness the undeniably pretty girl next to him was giving off. People who looked like her where normally the type to shove him in lockers and aggressively nudge his bag to the floor as he walked in the halls. Or throw food at him durning lunch. But she didn’t seem like that. She greeted him with a smile and treated him like a human. He couldn’t help but feel all bubbly inside.

“Yeah but it’s okay I guess…. Im Frank by the way.” He smiles causing her insides to melt.

“Im (y/n), it’s really nice to meet you.” She says returning the favor.

“You too.” He grins trying not to show the joy on his face.

And as they both looked away, staring at anything but each other, they wouldn’t realize this was the beginning. Over the next few weeks the once boring 3rd period seamed to become each of their favorite class of the day.

Small talk became genuine conversation. Leaning into each others presence rather than cowering away in awkward fear of friendly rejection.

“So your in a band?” She exclaims. The excitement consuming her voice. He nods, a wide smile resting on his face.

“Dude that’s so cool. I’ve always wanted to be in a band.” She continues.

“You should come by a practice. We could use an audience for once.” He chuckles slumping further back into his seat.

“That sounds great.” She said pulling out her phone, flipping it open.

“Our next rehearsal is after school, you wanna hitch a ride?” He asked her and she nodded.

“Yeah I’d like that.” She smiled.

The two boys sitting in the back of the classroom gave each other a knowing look. As the school bell rang everyone got up and grabbed their bags. With out even thinking about it she gave him a hug.

“I’ll meet you in the parking lot after school, okay?” She smiles and the boy nods, stunned into place.

“Yeah yeah, sounds good.” He stutters out and she walks out of the room.

The two guys walk up behind him and pat him on the back.

“Holy shit!” Ray exclaims.

“She uh, she’s coming to watch us practice.” Frank says turning to the two guys.

“No way she didn’t think it was lame?” Gerard says running his hands threw his shoulder length hair.

“No she actually said it was really cool.” He explains and they boys eyes widen.

“Wow, okay. Then we need to tell Mikey.” Ray says. The others nod in agreement and head out the classroom door to find the junior way brother.

After the school day was over they all headed into the parking lot to find (y/n) leaned against the wall her uniform jacket held in her arms with a pair of headphones over her ears.

The boys walk up to her and Frank taps her on the shoulder bringing her out of her daze.

“Oh hey! Are we ready to go?” She asks scanning the group of boys in front of her.

“Yeah let’s go.” He says holding out a hand and leading her to his car. Everyone pilling in.

“Do you mind if I play some music?” Frank says and points to the radio.

“Yeah, you’re all good.” She responds. He turns the radio on and nirvana starts playing. The boys all look at each other a little worried she might not like the type of music they do. That is till she starts humming along. Causing their eyes to widen.

“So uh, you like Nirvana?” Ray asks.

“Yeah, plus this is off the unplugged album. It’s one of my favorites.” She says getting visibly excited by the topic.

“No yeah, it’s really good.” Ray says.

“Ugh this is so cool!” She exclaims.

“What is?” Frank asks with a small laugh.

“It’s just… none of my friends are into this stuff. Well, I guess till I met you guys. It’s nice to have people I can relate to.” She smiles softly causing the rest to grin.

“We’re happy you’re our friend.” Gerard smiles.

“Yeah, we really are.” Frank says quickly looking over to her from the drivers seat. A warm smile on his lips. She couldn’t help but look at his lips and wonder if his lip ring would feel cold against her lips.

Feeling the heat rise to her cheeks she looks out the window and sees the street they’re driving down.

“Hey I live a few doors down. Do you wanna stop by real quick. I kinda wanna change out of the uniform if it’s not to much trouble.” She asks politely and they all agree that it’s fine. They then pull in-front of her house.

“Okay so my parents are gonna be out of the house till around 10 with my siblings. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.” She says walking up the stairs to her room. Nerves wrack her body as she heads upstairs. This would be the first time they would see her in clothes outside of school. What if they thought she was lame? They where so much cooler than she was. At least that’s what she thought.

She walked into her room closing the door quickly. She pulled out a pair of grey cargos and a tight white spaghetti strap shirt. Putting them on she grabbed her chucks and her bag. Lastly grabbing her black cardigan she opened her door only to find Frank in her doorway, his hand up in a knocking position.

“Oh sorry, I was just gonna ask where your bathroom was… but wow your room is so cool.” He says enamored by the atmosphere and she steps aside so he can observe further. The posters of bands like Led Zeppelin, Bob Marley, and Pearl Jam adorning her walls. Small pictures of people covered the lose space fallowed by plants strung all over the room. A leather jacket and multiple pairs of black boots on the floor by her dark green lounge chair in the corner. Her bed was unmade and covered in pillows and blankets. A small Teddy bear, that was visibly old, lying next to her pillow. A desk covered in makeup products and an old mirror on the other wall.

“Oh thanks. Whenever I go to the record store I like to get a new poster so my walls look a little cluttered. I’ve had to start putting them on my celling.” She says blushing hard over the fact that an attractive boy was in her room.

“It’s cool as fuck to be honest. Do you have people over often. This seams like such a chill hang out spot.” he looks to her and asks.

“Oh uh no actually. I don’t really have that many friends.” She awkwardly chuckles trying to ease the tension. He looks to her confused.

“How? Everyone at school loves you. And I see you with other girls in the halls.” He asks as his brows furrowed.

“Those are just what I like to call.. school friends. They are fun to hangout with when we are at school but they don’t really ever want to hang out outside of that. I guess I’m used for their school rep. Plus I’m always told I’m very… unapproachable. I don’t really understand why.”

“I don’t find you unapproachable.” He smiles taking a step closer.

“You are probably one of the coolest girls I’ve ever met.” He continues taking another step closer. The room got thick with tension. Her breath hitched and she look straight into his eyes. Neither of them really knew what was about to happen. But before they could find out Mikey knocked on the door way.

“Hey we better get going. Me and Gerard’s mom will be home in a few hours and we wanna get a good practice in. Oh sick room (y/n).” He smiles and walks back down the stairs.

“I- uh guess we should get going.” She says and heads out the door him following close behind. He couldn’t help but notice her arms and they walked down the stairs. His eyes widened.

“You have tattoos?” He asks extremely surprised.

“Yeah I’m planning on getting another before prom but I haven’t gotten around to it.” She says causally and his heart starts beating faster. She was so cool and she didn’t even realize it.

“Speaking of which where did you get your lip pierced? I’m thinking of getting a nose ring.” She asks.

“Oh I- I did it myself in Gerard’s basement, but the place I get my tattoos done has a good piercer. I can take you if you’d like.” He says as they head out to the car.

“That sounds awesome.” She grins and his heart stops. The color of her eyes in the sun made him weak.

“Cool cool.” He says and hops in the front seat driving to the way household.

They get there and head to the basement where they find two guitars, a bass, 3 mics and drum set.

“What do each of you do?” She asks as she takes a seat on the couch in the corner.

“Well Mikey plays bass, I play guitar, Frank plays Rhythm guitar, and Gerard sings.” Ray explains.

“I’m so excited.” She leans back into the couch as they each set up. The sounds of tuning and some screeching from the amps ended with a soft “one. two. three.” Which was very misleading for the sound this band made. The sound was almost violent, but it was still so beautiful that you enjoyed it. Making you re think things about yourself. She couldn’t help but stare at Frank as he played.

He was almost manic in his movements. The way he swung his body around as he played, never in one spot for long. His faces made him look almost pleasured by every stroke… of his guitar that is. She felt butterflies in her stomach as the song stopped and he looked to her. She could see a sense of what seemed to be nervousness on his face. Like he was waiting for her approval. But the large smile on her face made the heat rise to his cheeks.

She liked it.

After that day she went to every single practice. She was their number one supporter. Her and Frank grew really close because of it. Every practice he would offer her a ride home. And every time he would pull up to her house and she’d ask if he wanted to come inside. With a smirk he would nod and they would go up to her room. She would put on a movie and they would ignore it. They would sit and talk for hours. About everything. Things like old crushes, arguments with their parents. They would tell deep secrets and embarrassing stories. Every time it would start getting a little to late he would tell her his mom would be worried and she would walk him to the door. And there would be this moment. They would look into each others eyes and for a second it felt like a magnet was pulling them together. He would look down to her lips, and just think ‘how could something look so soft?’ And he’d have to stop himself from leaning in.

He’d take a step back and thank her for her time. He’d walk to his car and sit down roughly placing a hand down to the wheel while rubbing his other across his face. He just didn’t have the balls to do it. She was to good to be true. But she would also back into her house and shake her head in frustration. She just didn’t understand why she couldn’t make the first move. He seemed to cool for her.

This one day she was standing in the halls at school when one of her friends walks up… and just slaps her straight across the face.

“You bitch!” The red haired girl yells as the noise of the slap echos threw the space.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” (Y/n) says holding a hand to her cheek.

“Why does every single guy I like always want you!” She screams.

“Except you are so goddamn unapproachable they don’t even want to do anything about it. Just watch you from afar like perves. And I’m left alone for no good reason!” She cries.

“I’m sorry I-“ (y/n) tried to say before the girl slaps her again.

“No! Don’t fucking apologize! This is why none of us actually like you! Just stay away from me!” She yells and storms off.

The entire hall way was silent as they stared at the girl with red cheeks and glossy eyes. Four guys run up to her and lead her out of the school to the parking lot.

“(Y/n) are you okay?” Mikey asks concerned as Frank and Gerard sit her down on the curb. Her breathing got heavy and she looked up to Frank. In a swift feat of emotions she starts to sob. Frank looks to the three guys.

“Hey guys you should go back to class, I’ll sit with her.” He says.

“Are you sure?” Ray asks.

“Yeah we”ll be fine.” He reassures and they nod, walking back into school. Frank sits down next to her and she leans her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with me.” She says through tears and he rubs her shoulder.

“There is nothing wrong with you.” He sighs.

“I just don’t understand. Why am I so unapproachable. I don’t try to be. I go through life with a promise to be kind and it repays me with loneliness.”

“You’re not unapproachable. You never seamed that way to me.” He smiles down at her.

“Which I don’t get. You are the only person at this school who treats me like I’m a real person.”

“I guess it’s cause you’re, we’ll don’t take this weird, but you’re really pretty. And I guess people are intimidated by that. But everyone treats me like shit at this school so before I knew you. To me you just seemed like everyone else. But now that I know you, you don’t intimidate me. You just leave me in awe.” He confesses, running his hand through his hair. His face bright red. I nervous chuckle leaving his lips.

“Do you really see me that way?” She says turning towards him, wiping her tears away with a soft smile.

“Well yeah, and I don’t understand how you don’t. You’re just as beautiful on the inside as you are on the out. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” He says, bashfully looking down. His voice getting soft enough it ended in a whisper.

“Frank.” She sighed.

“Yeah?” He asks looking from his lap to her eyes. And what he saw left his heart yearning. No one had ever looked at him that way before. He could see the emotions pooling behind her eyes. The pleading they held for him. He knew what he should do. But she didn’t let him make the first move. Well, more like she didn’t give him the chance.

She placed her hand to his cheek slowly caressing it with her thumb taking in the way he looked. His eyes where so bright the hazel color was all she could think of. She leaned in as his eyes fluttered shut. The feeling of his cold lip ring causing a shiver to go down her spine. His lips where surprisingly soft as they moved together with hers. He couldn’t help but move his hand up to the nape of her neck. The feeling of her skin sending him into orbit. The soft sound of surprise leaving his lips made her stomach flip. They slowly moved apart and he looked at her with surprise.

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever met.” She said in a soft, yet sincere, voice. His cheeks practically glowed red as he leaned his forehead against hers.

The next few months they where always together. And for the first time in a while they where happy.

They would go to concerts together and sneak out to get tattoos. He went with her to get her nose pierced. He thought she looked so badass he got a nose stud. Afterwards they made out in his car, only to leave a few noticeable marks on each of their necks. Her mother noticed before she did and Frank was banned from the house for a week. Much to Gerard and rays amusement.

They had weekly movie nights after rehearsals. They would sit and talk barley watching and when the fell asleep with their limbs tangled together covered messily in blankets, her mother would walk in to tell her it was time for Frank to go home. Only to find them peacefully asleep. So she would call up franks mom and explain, leading to multiple unplanned sleepovers and very awkward family breakfasts in the morning.

That was till she started noticing him being a little distant. He would start to actually watch the movies on movie night and he would leave afterwards. Even telling her rehearsal was cancelled two or three times, when she knew from the others that it wasn’t.

“Hey Frank.” She said as they sat together in her dark green chair listening to the soft sounds of her record player spinning in the corner.

“Yeah.” He said mindlessly fiddling his lip ring with his teeth. As she traced his tattoos she sighed.

“Are you okay? You just seam a little… spaced out lately.” She asks softly. He looks to her and she could see a flash of sadness behind his eyes before he looked away again.

“Oh I’m fine, just a little tired I guess.” He says dismissively. She could tell he was lying and so she pushed a little.

“I’m mean are you sure? Cause-“

“Yes Im sure just drop it okay.” He snapped a little and she sat in shock her fingers leaving his arms. The large green chair suddenly feeling to small for the both of them. She got up and was about to leave the room to give him a break when he continued, stopping her in her tracks.

“It’s just… I saw you 3 weeks ago. You where standing on the field with one of the players. And he was touching your arms.” He says sitting up and her heart dropped. He though she was cheating.

“That wasn’t what you think it was.” She says taking a step closer to him.

“Oh yeah? And what was it?” He said standing up.

“He was hitting on me and touching me without my permission. I told him to stop because I have a boyfriend. Is this what’s been bothering you?” She explained her heart racing.

“Well yeah. Cause to me it just looked like my girlfriend was being asked out by someone who was more in her league than I am.” He says and frustrated tears well up in his eyes. He couldn’t get over the feeling he wasn’t enough for her after actually seeing her with someone like that.

“You know I would never do that to you Frank. Why wouldn’t you just talk to me sooner?” She asks. And he heard her words. And they made sense to him but the feeling where still bubbling up inside.

So he called her the one thing she told him she hated.

“Cause you’re so unapproachable when it comes to this stuff! You’re just little miss perfect!” He exclaims in a moment of anger. Mostly with himself.

The gasp that left her lips sounded like an echo in the silence.

But the look she had when her eyes widened, brimming with tears, had his brain shut off. He knew he messed up and quickly softened his features. Starting to walk closer to her.

“(Y/n) I’m sorry I-“

“You where the only person who never called me that… who never treated me that way.” She said as the tears burned her cheeks.

“(Y/n)- please I didn’t mean it. I was just overly emotional.” He says, his voice soft.

“Why would you say that.”

“It’s just. It’s the only thing about you that is even a little imperfect.” He sighs.

“I’m not as perfect as you like to think. You’re just blinded by how you feel. The first time I kissed you, it was because you saw me for who I am. Just like everyone else. I have insecurities, I have problems and I’m not perfect.” She says and sits down on her bed as he steps closer to her.

“I know it’s just… everyday. We walk through the halls and people cant help but give me weird looks. This one guy even threatened to beat my up after school if I didn’t leave you alone. Every time your absent they throw food at me during lunch. And I just can’t help but wonder why your with me.” He says and his lip starts to quiver. She looks up at him and realized she had never seen him cry. His voice was shaking and his eyes got red. She had seen him get teared up but never like this. He looked so…. broken.

“Frank, why didn’t you tell me…?” She asks and he takes a step closer.

“I just didn’t think it would matter. But then I thought I saw you with that guy and I got scared.” He says as he steps down onto his knees in front of her. Pleading with his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I should have said something.” He exclaims softly.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you told me though. People are horrible. But all that matters is I love you and nothing is changing that. No stupid football players or mean girls. Cause to me you are beautiful. Inside and out.” She smiles as he looks up at her. She leans down and places a kiss to kiss lips.

“I love you.” He whispers into the kiss. And they pull away. She places her forehead to his. Just like the first time they kissed, and he smiled at the memory.

“I love you more.”

#frank iero x reader #frank iero #my chemical romance #im not okay #im not okay i promise #Frank iero x Fem! reader #Frank iero x female reader #three cheers for sweet revenge #Spotify

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kitchenisking · 2 years

Text

Fic Rec🥰

I Know You by sparkandwolf (thatnerdemryn) - (Rating: G, Words: 1733, sterek)

“I thought I’d find you here,” Derek said, placing a gentle kiss on Stiles’ temple. He could barely feel Derek’s lips through the thick hair he had let grow during his senior year. He was never expecting to rid himself of his signature buzz cut, but it wasn’t exactly a priority when battling the danger they so often faced.

“Am I that obvious?” Stiles asked.

“To me,” Derek said simply, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder.

Flowerwolf & Beacon Roots by alisvolatpropiis - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5299, sterek)

Derek tries not to show his surprise, curiously hopeful, but still suspicious of Laura’s involvement. “Oh. How do you know my coffee order then?”

He grins. “The cute baristo knows your order, dude. All I had to do was ask for Grumpy Flower Guy’s usual.”

Derek huffs. “I’m not grumpy.”

“He says grumpily,” Stiles smirks, winking.

The sound of his own laughter surprises Derek, so yeah, okay, maybe Stiles has a point.

“Laura said that you weren’t really into dating,” Stiles goes on, “but that uh, you uh, well you know.” Stiles’ cheeks flush a very pretty ruddy pink under the scatter of beauty marks that Derek aches to taste. Stiles turns away, towards the cooler of roses, muttering to himself under his breath, which of course Derek can hear perfectly well. “Great freakin’ advice, Lydia, ‘just bring up sex and tell him you’re cool with having a one night stand,’ okay, sure, that worked fucking beautifully.”

“Okay.” The word is out of his mouth before Derek can even think about the consequences of saying it, something unusual for him. He wants Stiles however he can get him, it seems.

“Okay?” Stiles eyes are wide when he spins back to look at him.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s have sex.”

How long have I been on the hunt for you? byLunaCanisLupus_22 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 20379, sterek)

“Well I guess accidental kidnapping is not so bad then,” Scott decided brightly after the others had finished describing their ordeals. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

“HAHA,” Stiles practically shouted, loud and unsettling enough that everyone turned to look at him. “I mean, yep. For. Sure.”

Or the one when Scott gets kidnapped by a witch who blasts Stiles and Derek with a sex spell to keep them distracted (and it's extremely effective).

Poetry in the Raw by Jmeelee - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5509, sterek)

Derek answers his phone on the second ring. “What.” No inflection whatsoever.

“Does the ‘S’ in your middle name stand for Sexy?”

Silence. Then, “Stiles.” Still no inflection.

“I doubt it stands for Stiles, dude. There can only be one,” he answers in a kick-ass impersonation of The Kurgan. “But tell me it isn’t, like, Sawyer or Skylar or something equally new-age and white-boy contemporary.”

“How did you get my number?”

OR: 5 times Stiles guesses Derek's middle name +1 time he knows.

Undercover Powercouple by fantasybean - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 42212, sterek)

Stiles and Derek both have their own thriving Youtube vlogging careers, but they keep them seperate. Little do their fans know, the two have been living together, sleeping together, and dating each other in secret! But how long till they get exposed?

Five Times Stiles Woke Up In Derek’s Bed Unexpectedly, And the One Time It Was On Purpose by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) -( Rating: T, Words: 20933, sterek)

Rule one of kidnapping Stiles Stilinski: he is required to be entertained.

Not that he got kidnapped a lot!

Or... not like, all the time, at any rate. His being kidnapped seemed to have increased lately, but he attributed that to being distracted more often than usual because of school. Sure, he’d had high school to contend with back in the day, but high school was less demanding than university. He always watched movies where people were out partying it up or solving crime or having huge campus-wide mass murders or whatever and all Stiles wanted to know was where they found the time.

To be fair, most of them didn’t have the Supernatural breathing down their neck, or a pack constantly coming to them for advice. Like he was the poster child of good decisions, who was dumb enough to believe that? His best friend was a Werewolf because of all his so-called ‘good decisions.’

Step into the daylight (and let it go) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 14418, sterek)

Stiles is a grad student with serious insomnia. So when he sees a stranger in need of help, he thinks it’ll be a good way to alleviate the boredom. How the hell was he supposed to know that the weird guy with the baseball cap was a famous actor (and a fucking werewolf)? He just keeps running into the guy. Coincidence? Stiles thinks not.

I Used to Call You My Own by whentheywrite - (Rating: T, Words: 2571, sterek)

“Hi, yes, this is Stiles Stilinski, but I’m not at the phone right now! Please leave a message or call back later and I’ll debate not letting the phone ring. Social anxiety, dude, don’t judge me for it.”

Derek needed Stiles. He needed to talk to Stiles.

One last time.

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 196137, sterek)

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

“What?! What was that sound?!”

“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”

“Mike,” she argued.

“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.

“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

The Kenny Situation by Whispering_Sumire - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 10014, sterek)

He hears the grate of Erica sliding the window open, hears her call after the homeless man, muttering far off now, "Hey! You killed Stiles!"

She sounds vaguely annoyed more than anything.

Derek wants to howl with the agony he's in.

"You bastard!" Isaac chimes from somewhere deeper in the Loft.

Derek feels sick.

He rocks the body in his arms, holds the hand in his over the wound, shakes with sobs he doesn't let free, and wonders how this was the thing who got the boy who runs with wolves? How was it just another meaningless act of violence? How is that fair?

Why doesn't anyone seem to care?

[Or: The one where Stiles gets cursed by witches, keeps dying and coming back to life, and the only one even vaguely cognizant of this is Derek.]

#stiles x derek #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #ficrec #fanfic #kitcheniskingficrecs

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henrike-does-writing-sometimes · 3 months

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HENRIKE!!! i’m sorry life is being shit rn 🫂🫂 i would love to know more about ruben and anruh’s backstories before they meet each other—friends and family they have (or struggle with) and that kind of stuff! or their favorite things to do together/favorite things about each other

would also love to hear fucking ANYTHING about the divine boys im love them sm it’s Unreal

Ren my beloved <3<3<3<3 !!!

sorry this took a while, today's been rough lmao

Here are some Ruben and Anruh backstory bits (that I can think of for now);

Ruben is in his second year of high school, where he studies nature science. The story is set during the spring term, meaning he's 17 turning 18 (February 20th).

His happy stims include hand flapping, bouncing, and a slew of vocal stims like shrieking and humming. Humming, along with rocking, is also what he does when stressed or overstimulated.

Him and his friends play DnD together and he basically always plays Wood Elf Druid because it best aligns with his special interests lmao.

While I have yet to fully figure out his parents, I do know of his older sister, who I've spoken about before; Karin ! (pronounced like car-in). She's 7 years older and managed to avoid eldest daughter syndrome, good for her.

She is, however, both dismissive and overbearing, leading to the two of them having a lot of fights.

Karin works as a Ranger which, while not affiliated with the police, functions in similar ways just out in the wild and dealing with mythical beings. And with none of the racism and shot-first mentalities.

Anruh is 4 years older than Ruben, making her 21 during the story then 22 on September 3rd. (however, whenever I write kink-related content of these two they're 25 and 29 or older)

She works with silviculture and is one of the few to do night shifts, practically being alone in her region. There are reasons for this, but I kinda want to keep those secret for now.

Those things are also the reason she kills. Urroa's are omnivores, but Anruh's basically been a full-on carnivore since she was 6 when she first killed.

She likes poetry, and as a kid it was her dream job. She still dabbles in it, but is happy with working in the woods.

Her dad is named Freryn and he's everything. Before Ruben he was the only one who was patient with her. He brings her food and checks in on her when she's been isolating for too long <3

This is not backstory, but fun fact ! Because of their antlers, urroa shirts lace up in the back

As for the Divine Boys, I've for one realized that the way I've so far written their fighting styles is influenced by their hobbies/sports. Rei's a gamer so he's a quick and strategic thinker. Andie's a cheerleader so they do a lot of jumping and spinning and flipping. Timothy does ballet so he's light and graceful. Nico skates so he's quick and more aware of his surroundings. Mike's an archer so his fighting is long-ranged.

This was wholly unintentional but I love it sm.

I've also figured out what the Circus' deal is; ORGAN HARVESTING ! But with a twist, it's about the 'core' of a person. Kinda like the soul. So they basically lure people to their circus, wear them down little by little, then swipe the people who are ripe for the picking.

I also need to draw them again <3

I'm currently trying to get into The Divine because I feel the urge, but yeah things are happening alot lol

#thank you king I needed this <3 #wip : Gammellunden #wip : The Divine

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burningdarkfire · 6 months

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books i read in sept 2023

[these are all short + casual reviews - feel free to ask about individual ones if u want my full thoughts or ask for my goodreads!!]

sometimes u travel somewhere where u have a relative lot of downtime + no data and u reinvent urself as a person who reads

she who became the sun (reread) + he who drowned the world - shelley parker-chan ★★★★★ (historical fantasy)

i reread swbts before tackling hwdtw and the way that this duology is so emotionally devastating! big win for readers who are fans of characters tearing the world apart in their grief and then realizing they cannot live in their new world! and the insane gender goodstuff, of course. ough. will think about this for a while

into the riverlands - nghi vo ★★★★★ (fantasy)

excellent third entry to the series that felt more fun than the other two thus far - i love playing around with myths and legendmaking

[reread] raven quest - sharon stewart ★★★★★ (adventure)

really happy to find out that this book from my childhood absolutely holds up. tightly plotted and paced and really poignant. i love animal adventures <3

the last devil to die - richard osman ★★★★★ (mystery)

no more withholding 5*s from genre fiction!! this book made me tear up for real so even though a silly murder mystery is probably never going to change my life, we have to give credit where credit is due. the most character-focused entry of the series so far and it definitely shows!

war of the foxes - ricahrd siken ★★★★☆ (poetry)

individually less interesting but collectively more coherent than crush. it's cool to have a conversation with a bit of poetry standing in a field, and I do love a good metaphor

the paper menagerie - ken liu ★★★★☆ (sci fi short stories)

great collection to go over slowly - i suspect it might have felt a bit tedious reading it front to back in a sitting. i liked how chinese a number of the stories felt. lots of ideas to chew on!

the poisonwood bible - barbara kingsolver ★★★★☆ (historical)

i just know this book went crazy in high school english class! it has themes and motifs and characters to compare and contrast! there's so much rich ground for analysis. and also treating characters like a bizarre personality test (the avenue of entertainment i chose). fantastic book to chew on and i greatly enjoyed talking to people about it

carrie - stephen king ★★★★☆ (horror)

yeah, i get the hype! this is a book that's impossible to read divorced from how deeply it's ingrained in current popular culture, but it stands up beautifully for itself. i'd love to read more analysis of it that puts in the cultural context of the 70s

hotline - dimitri nasrallah ★★★★☆ (historical)

surprisingly kind and hopeful story, definitely lovely if you want something feel-good. i really enjoyed how the occasional french was threaded into the english, it felt very montreal to me

the monstrumologist - rick yancey ★★★★☆ (historical horror)

tremendously gory and often unsettling. i found myself surprisingly attached to the characters and all the historical affectations of the book - it's not a series that i'm itching to continue but it was a good read

hark! a vagrant - kate beaton ★★★★☆ (historical humour graphic novel)

skimmed through parts of this but it was a fun read from cover to cover. always entertaining to see the origins of some very famous internet memes and there are also some hidden gems!

dead silence - s. a. barnes ★★★☆☆ (sci fi horror)

the author writes a very good spooky ship and very mediocre everything else

the word is murder + the sentence is death + a line to kill + the twist of a knife - anthony horowitz (-★★★☆☆+) (mystery)

decent murder mystery series. the author self-insert is goofy, the random homophobia is persistent, but they're quick and easy reads that go down like junk food

all that's left in the world - erik j. brown ★★★☆☆ (post-apocalyptic romance)

genre-mash that just didn't quite work for me. the tonal shifts between "fluffy gay YA romance" and "the world has ended post-apocalyptic bleakness" were jarring and the book never felt like it cohered into anything meaningful

#my posts #books #liveblogging books #reading wrap up

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zosociologist · 9 months

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"Dating Peter Tork Would Be Like..." [Scrapped]

[Teacher!Peter x Librarian!Black!Female!Reader Headcannon]

A/N: This was bound to happen eventually...just glad I was able to get this out of my system; WwaBRiM per usual and likes, comments, & reblogs are strongly encouraged(=

Era: Mid-70s (around the time Peter became a teacher)

Warnings: Mentions of fooling around, and light makeout stuff.

Yeah, you knew who Peter Tork was....as did every young woman that came of age in the 60s and had a working television in the house.

Re-run episodes of The Monkees is what helped you get through your last year of college, and although you hate to admit it, you'll be forever grateful(:

Your love for sharing knowledge led you to get a Bachelor's in Education, but your spite of those around you saying that men don't like women that are "overachievers" got you your Master's in Library Science.

You have quite a few interests: you paint, sing, and play the guitar now and then, and read and write a lot of poetry and stories.

So, you took those skills and became a Librarian at a nice high school in the hills, and the job is very enjoyable, just as you would’ve expected it to be.

You expected there to be hundreds of things checked in and out per day and thousands per week, resulting in hours of restocking shelves and setting displays.

And you were expecting to have engaging conversations with students as they tell you about their recent reads, while you return the favor by giving them even more book recommendations to further expand their minds.

What you DID NOT expect when the new school year started, was for an oddly familiar man to approach your counter inquiring about an instructor’s copy of a textbook that he’d ordered for his science course.

And you’re still not sure if it was your slight gasp or starstruck demeanor over the random circumstances, but something made him chuckle at the situation while you spoke in disbelief, “Nooo, you can’t be”, “The only problem is, I am”.

Far off from his former band days, Peter grew his hair out much longer and sported a beard that you thought fit him very well. He also dropped his alias and went by his actual surname, Mr. Thorkelson. A subtle change that made a huge difference.

At first, you weren’t so sure that Peter could be that friendly a person, even bashful at times, but you learned early on that it was all genuine.

That was just the kind of person he was. On the job, Peter could talk to anyone and make friends with everyone.

But after a while, you noticed he went out of his way to make conversation with you…even though the library is nowhere en route to his classroom.

You two soon became good friends, bonding over various things from literature to your shared love for the folk music scene.

Whenever you had free time in your schedules, you’d be at each other’s respective workstations scribbling ideas on chalkboards or making pyramids out of lost library cards and bookmarks (that you’d return to the students that lost them immediately after).

Somedays you and Peter could even be found in the teacher’s lounge, sharing reviews of movies you’d watched in theaters that past weekend.

Your coworkers started calling you “two peas in a pod” and neither of you minded it…as a matter of fact, you were both kinda hoping the phrase spoke for itself.

There would be days when you’d set a big apple on his desk before he got to his classroom in the morning, and he’d return the gratitude by waiting until you were in the back of the library somewhere, ID-ing some publishers, before placing a folded paper crane on a short stack of books on your counter.

Of course, there was something there! But nobody said anything for fear of ruining the great friendship you both had cultivated for months.

But in the thrill of the moment, and contrary to Mr. Thorkelson’s belief, you took the liberty of making the first move…and at the Christmas faculty party of all places!

The event was off school grounds at a venue in the city. The night was young, and it was freeing to see your coworkers let loose outside of the professional box that working as educators placed them in.

Add in the fact there was an open bar and everyone was basically on cloud nine.

There were Secret Santa gifts and party games, and one of them was, of course, "Truth or Dare".

Salaries were exposed, shots were taken, relationships and teacher pregnancies were revealed…

But your new Library Assistant, with a suggestive amount of wine in their system, took the liberty of shooting Peter a truth question: "I saw you put a crane on (y/n)'s desk a week or so ago. Do you two have something going on?"

Your eyes shot up from the unopened Secret Santa gift you received just in time to witness Peter finish his old-fashioned, "With all the love and respect in the world, no. We do not."

Your co-workers gave lively reactions, and the game quickly moved ahead, but now the tension between you two became suddenly unavoidable.

Peter couldn't bring himself to look at you, let alone in your direction. He thought he messed up everything, by not saying something different. He felt like it set his relationship with you back by a long shot. How was he supposed to recover from that if he ever did find the balls to confess that he thought the world of you?

You, on the other hand, didn't think much of it….mostly. I mean, sure, you did like him….A LOT. But for the sake of professionalism, you figured that if it wasn't meant to be, then it wasn't meant to be.

The evening progressed and so did the party, but you figured you'd make your discreet leave and wave goodbye to a few close coworkers early.

You saved Peter's goodbye for last and gave him a warm embrace like usual along with a warm message, "Don't worry, okay? We're good! I'll see you back at The Hills after the break. Merry Christmas, Peter."

And off you went…….to the venue's unsupervised walk-in coat closet to retrieve yours. It took you a bit of sliding around coats on hangers to track it down but you finally were able to get a hold of it.

When you opened the closet door to exit, Peter was on the other side holding your Secret Santa gift you left behind.

You kinda just stood there? Mouth open and in shock, but the good kind. You even backed up a little bit, hoping that he would walk in.

And he did. Shutting the closet door behind him, Peter stepped forward, closing the gap as if he was just a short space away from you.

"You forgot this on the table and I didn't want you to leave without it." He smiled, handing the gift back to you as you handed your coat over for him to hold.

Unraveling the silver and gold wrapping paper, you couldn't help but rest your forehead against the gift and laugh: a hardcover copy of "Origami: The Art of Paper Folding" by Robert Harbin.

You were tickled because you KNEW it was Peter, and he couldn't help but smile at your infectious laugh.

"What? What's so funny?", "No, it's just this is so adorable! Did you plan this? Did you pull strings to be my Secret Santa?", "I didn't, I promise that was coincidental. I just figured since I was making so many of these and leaving them with you, I'd give you something so you can make your own.", "But I like when you make them for me!"

Your eyes were filled with such sincerity, and you were HOPING…that it would be enough for him to TAKE A HINT…..

You didn't wait. You kissed Peter, but he immediately followed suit, cupping your face as he leaned into it. The book slipped out of your hand as Peter grabbed your waist, backing you two into the wall as the line of hung coats surrounded you both.

The kissing intensified, and Peter dropped your coat to the floor as he unbuttoned his cotton henley shirt, never taking his lips off yours. You lost all sense of time. The closet got smaller and warmer by the minute, and frankly, you were feeling more aroused than you ever had in your life. And he sensed that, but he also respected you much more than just minimizing what you two share to a quick fuck in a stuffy coat closet at the faculty Christmas party.

So in the midst of you reaching to undo his belt buckle, he stopped you, fixed you both back up, retrieved his corduroy jacket, and kissed your forehead.

Gathering your things, you both left the party together, unnoticed, and hand in hand.

You two finished the evening by watching artists perform at a venue you randomly stumbled upon.

❣Dating Life❣

You and Peter becoming official made everything that you were already platonically doing regularly, feel a lot more special.

You still bother each other on school grounds, but now you enjoy one another off of school grounds as well! (In more ways than one)

Movie theaters, plays, concerts, farmers markets, and bookstores on the weekends. And you have sleepovers at either of your apartments.

You always love his place. It always feels cozy and nostalgic because of some things he has around from his days as a television star.

He'll lay his head in your lap in his living room conversation pit and share stories from the set, and you enjoy every moment of it. He plays his guitar or piano and you'll listen or sing along.

But you're convinced he loves your place more. He adores just how much "the essence of your apartment matches your personality" or whatever that means.

You'll admit, you have a lot of scholastic things lying around that gives away your identity as an educator, but your apartment holds much more than that!

He loves your collection of autobiographies, novels, and poetry books of Black authors, and finds joy in having you read passages written by esteemed artists of the Harlem Renaissance to him as he listens intently.

You'll cook together and sit on your couch watching sitcoms, music, and game shows.

And he was SO determined in helping you out whenever you have a wash day, so you walked him through how you detangle your hair and he's been a specialist ever since😌

He will make up any and every excuse possible to hold you and just be in your space.

He loves when you just lay together in silence, preferably with the window open so you can hear the sounds of the outside world and everything happening around you both while you're in your little sacred space.

That's happened quite a few times on Sunday nights, which rolled over into Monday mornings…which resulted in carpools to work where you'd have to act like you two didn't just arrive together from the same place.

You were almost late quite a few times on those types of mornings, it's like Peter wouldn't let you shower and get dressed in peace without messing up your outfit due to his..............antics…..

Oh, he wasn't a saint. You've heard rumors of the parties he'd host at his old Hollywood home, but you didn't think he was THIS mischievous…

When it came to sex, you were far from innocent. But Peter brought out this adventurous side of you as far as stepping out of your comfort zone goes.

You went three rounds in the back of a van at a music festival high off Mary-Jane once because you kept giving him praise and it drove him insane.

Sure, the bedroom, shower, kitchen, and balcony were nice…..but the library back room, teacher's lounge, janitor's closet, his classroom, and school parking lot in his backseat were mind-numbing. There was also your childhood bedroom when you went back to visit once…It was an otherworldly experience.

And he's such a giver! His definition of helping you de-stress is going down on you while you vent about what happened during the day and how it made you feel (and how he's making you feel).

He LIVES for seeing you come undone and lose yourself in pleasure, it's a challenge to him almost.

You're careful with how blissed-out you look after he makes you finish because HE WILL immediately go again.

And that's basically Peter's whole thing, he lives to please and enjoys helping in any possible way he can

Like that one time you and your library assistant were supposed to go over to the primary school to read books to the little kids and sing songs while you played your guitar , but the assistant got sick so Peter gladly snatched up his guitar as well and went along as your Stories and Songs accomplice

[End of Writing]

I started writing this in May but I just had so much going on during the summer that I would have to keep pausing my writing and just add on when inspo hit. This is basically the entire headcannon I guess, but I just didn't know how to close this one out and I didn't wanna just abruptly stop, ya know? BUT my classes are starting back soon....and with that comes the random and unexpected spurts of writing inspiration so I'm hoping for the best😅

#my writing #the monkees #peter tork #peter tork fanfic #the monkees fanfic #60s music #70s fanfiction

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oceangirl24 · 4 months

Text

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Shawn's expectations for gifts for himself were not high. He really didn't expect much after all Jon and Audrey had done for him. Anything would make him happy.

When he opened his first gift from them, he was stunned. It was the pair of Rollerblades he'd been eyeing at the Franklin Mills Mall every time he and Cory went there to hang out. He wasn't even aware that Jon or Audrey knew he wanted these exact ones. And he felt his expression of gratitude was inadequate.

The rollerblades were just the start and every gift he unwrapped brought him closer to tears. He never mentioned any of the stuff he received and yet they'd somehow managed to get him exactly what he would have bought for himself if he had the money:

CDs from his favorite bands, Sony MDR-V6 headphones, and gift certificates to clothing stores at the mall.

Shawn smiled. He appreciated being able to pick out his own clothes although he had no doubt Audrey and Jon would have done a better job putting together a wardrobe for him than Mrs. Matthews.

He still had nightmares about that yellow hoodie.

The last gift was a stack of four hardback books and a set of writing pens. The books were all blank inside.

He looked up at Jon and Audrey quizzically.

"Jon noticed that you do a lot of writing," Audrey said.

"Yeah, I do," Shawn looked at Jon. His expression flickered between pleased and confused. "How did you know I was writin' and not drawin'?"

"Aside from the Welfare poem your stuff for my class is pretty good. Writin' seemed like somethin' you were into," Jon shrugged. "I dunno. You just looked like that's what you're doin'."

"Yeah, I kinda like it. Sounds weird comin' from me though, huh?"

Jon shook his head. "Not really. Everyone needs an outlet. Writin's not so unusual."

Shawn sat back on his heels with a look of contemplation on his face. "How did you know, though? I don't sit around on the couch doin' it."

"Yeah, I know. Sometimes I walk by your room and see you on the bed with a notebook. You sure aren't doin' homework 'cause you're obviously interested in what you're doin'."

Shawn smiled.

"And sometimes, I get really thoughtful responses from you in class, particularly when poetry comes up."

"You never asked to see what I was doin'."

"It seemed personal."

"It is. But I have some stuff I could show you." Shawn bit his lip to stop himself from getting too excited. He'd been wanting to share his work with Jon for a while but was unsure if his teacher would be into it. "I mean if you're interested."

"I am, Shawn," Jon smiled, relieved that the teen was open to letting him into his world. "I really am."

"Cool," Shawn ducked his head. He was secretively pleased that Jon wanted to see his stuff. He'd have to find a few of his best poems for his teacher. He looked up again and said, "Thanks, Jon. I really needed some new ones."

"I noticed that too." Jon could tell this offer of vulnerability was overwhelming his charge, so he said flippantly, "Now stop stealin' supplies from my desk at school."

Shawn laughed as he turned one of the journals over in his hands. "Yeah sure."

As the video played, Jon understood why Shawn had been insistent on hauling around the video camera from school wherever he could-he'd been documenting the entire month of December. He sat quietly watching the tape, leaning forward on the edge of the couch with his hand over his mouth.

At one point Audrey looked over at him and saw that tears were shining in his eyes. She reached over to him and took his hand. It was a lengthy film and they watched it all the way through. When it was over, Jon reached over to Shawn and guided him to sit between them.

"Best gift I've ever gotten, Shawn," he said quietly.

"Really?" Shawn had never seen his teacher this teary-eyed like this before.

"Uh-huh."

"That was amazing, Shawn," Audrey told him. "You've got such a talent with the camera. I love it so much."

Shawn couldn't hide his pride. He was relieved and pleased that they were so happy with it.

"Shawn," Jon asked. "When did you find time to do this?"

Shawn smiled. "You know those times I went to Cory's the last couple of weeks?"

Jon and Audrey nodded.

"Well, actually Mr. Matthews was dropping us off at school and Mr. Williams let us use the film editing department."

"We had no idea," Audrey laughed.

"Good!" Shawn exclaimed. "You weren't supposed to."

"I'm so glad you thought to film everythin'," Jon said. "It didn't even occur to me to take pictures."

"Oh, I did a lot of that, too," he told them. He jumped up and grabbed the ancient camera that Mr. Matthews had let him borrow.

Jon gave Audrey a sly look and she smirked back at him.

"You think we should give him his last present?" he asked her.

"Seems like the right time," she said, pointing to a box under the tree that Shawn had somehow missed seeing.

"You guys really didn't have to get me anythin' else. Like really. This," he motioned to the room. "is more than enough."

"Tough, kid," Jon joked. "Open the box."

Shawn smiled and sat down to open the last gift. He tore the paper off and stopped. He stared at the box beneath the paper.

No way it was what it said it was on the box.

It had to be a joke and there was something else inside. No way was there really a Canon Rebel S 35mm SLR camera in that box.

But there was.

Shawn was stunned. It was the most beautiful camera he'd ever seen. And it was his.

All his.

No more borrowing twenty-year-old cameras that took grainy pictures.

Audrey leaned against Jon, took his hand, and interlaced her fingers with his as they watched the wonderment on Shawn's face as he examined the gift. The teen finally turned to them with tears in his eyes. He was speechless and the only thing he could do was to hug them as tightly as possible.

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#boy meets world #shawn hunter #jonathan turner #boy meets world fanfiction #bmw #audrey andrews #jon turner #christmas story #autumn in philadelphia #christmas fanfiction

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friendshipgun · 8 months

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😈

💖-specifically, when did you start writing, what kind of things did you write, what inspired you, how has your writing journey looked?

and uh i fuckin forget the emoji but character headcanon(s) for mia winters and/or jesse evilwest (and his twin??)

hope these are fun to answer!

Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

i think maybe you asked this one the last time i reblogged this ask meme but there has also been Fic Progression so i also understand lol. but no, not really. a lot of the time i don't even clock something that might read like that until i get comments about it. i am however mean to Karl and Ethan on purpose and so there is probably splash damage from that lol.

(and i'm gonna have to readmore the rest bc it gets long, apologies) What made you start writing?

i don't know when exactly i started, just that i remember putting little books of "stories" together in elementary school. i wrote what i think technically counts as LOTR fanfic and MLP oc fic lmao. but what i mostly wrote was original fiction. a cousin i was close to as a kid was also big into writing and we ended up attending a summer camp for the arts together in middle school, so i was writing mostly poetry there, but prose too. i also started writing fic with another friend in middle/high school (stuff like pokemon crack fic lmao), but i was still mostly writing original fiction. in high school in particular i got BIG into writing poetry (idk if anyone else knows about allpoetry.com but i sure was spending a heck of a lot of time there), was editor of the high school literary magazine, etc etc. basically i was never not writing. i was also posting way more fic in high school, writing primarily angst at that point and largely for Final Fantasy.

then i went to college and stopped writing for a few years barring academic papers. started taking writing seminars the last few semesters i was there which got me writing again. again mostly original fiction. a lot of supernatural stuff, not really poetry anymore though, which is kind of a shame bc of how much i had liked it. started writing fic again too, a lot of Naruto stuff that i never posted anywhere. then my dad of all people got me into Supernatural and i wrote a bunch of fic for that that i also never posted anywhere. then i went to grad school and the "not writing anything except academic papers" thing started up again rip. really didn't pick it up again as a regular practice until after my dad died a few years back. wrote a bunch of stuff about grief that was uhhhhhhhhh pretty clearly me trying to process shit.

and then it was covid and i lost my job and i was watching playthroughs of re7 and re8 almost concurrently going "but what if you put Heisenberg in the swamp WHAT THEN." as for what inspires me, i guess just about everything? like the number of stories i wrote set in Japan after i'd studied abroad there...is a lot. and with fic it's just like "i just think it would be neat if character i like was in a Situation." when i was writing poetry a lot of it was teenage angst bc i was in high school but i'd also write about cities or people or fantasy epics. anyway this is already really long but yeah basically if i think about it for long enough that it becomes "I Just Think They're Neat" territory i'll want to write something about it.

Mia Winters Headcanon:

she doesn't trust easily and has for a long time kept things about herself secret, or lied outright, as a way to protect herself. she'd been doing this long before she met Ethan and then after...it was habit. and it was easy to keep things about her work secret because it did feel like she was protecting him. and it wasn't like it was going to be forever, she was planning on getting out. she was working on it. she hadn't even thought of something like that--a normal life--until she'd met Ethan, and then it had seemed like...like something attainable. there wouldn't be the need for secrets then, when it was just the two of them. (or so she told herself: it's like pulling off her skin, being that exposed, having nothing between herself and someone else. being seen. completely seen.) anyway this got away from me a bit lmao. but basically i like to try to reconcile her going back to lying post-re7 as a defensive move to protect herself, especially when the BSAA knows everything about her past. i don't think she was intentionally trying to hurt Ethan or anything, just that after Dulvey she'd feel ever more the need to have those secrets as a buffer, combined with a deep, deep fear that Ethan would hate her if he knew. (this is how i am personally smoothing down Mr. Capcom's writing decisions.) Jesse Evil West Headcanon: he has had a crush on Edgar since he was a kid and is outright tormented by it. i imagine him taking issue with how his dad treated Edgar. or feeling jealous of Edgar's loyalty to his dad. just let's give Jesse more issues regarding his dad lmao. the little joke he makes in the game about Edgar kissing him is a ""joke"" but like he is internally yelling UNLESS?????? as vehemently as he can.

thinking also about post-game events, how Bloom was joking around with Edgar and Jesse can absolutely get jealous about that too, like just he's a mess and i don't know if it's better (worse) if he has actually confessed to Edgar and was shot down or has just never confessed to Edgar for fear of getting shot down.

and if you want to bring in Jesse's twin (who is also named Jessie i guess we can just give him an extra vowel) i think it's very funny if both of them alternately fight over and tag team Edgar. co-op, as it were.

#these were a lot of fun to answer thank you Azira!#i was just like oh writing history i will just simply not shut up i guess #and i also probably could have just Not Shutted Up about mia too tbh #determined to write a mia-centric fic at some point bc i do really like her #and capcom did her realllll dirty #and now i guess it's time to finally find out if it is still the case that any tags after the first five won't show up in tag search #mia winters #jesse rentier #bc i want to tag them for personal ref but don't need to bog down the tags with an ask meme #ask tag the tag for asks #ask meme

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residentdormouse · 9 months

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Hi there, its Athena for Sunday Ask-A-Thon week 2 at @ask-a-thon: How long have you been writing, how long have you enjoyed being a writer and do you have any pieces of advice for new writers?

HEY 👋

Thank you so much for the ask!!

Honestly, I've had training, but have not really done too much with it until a couple years ago. Elementary school we were required to keep a regular journal, and then I used to write ridiculous ' Scream'-esque horror stories involving my friends when I was in middle school. Long pause of nothing through high school, and then I took a few courses in college. Play writing (because I was trying to take just about everything I could in the theater department), and then Creative Writing (because it was the best of the classes that filled the writing intensive requirements). From Play writing, I wrote a tiny short script. (I was directing a student written piece that was on the shorter end, so I made a companion piece to make it a full length show in total.) Creative writing, though, I didn't have much inspiration for a long story at the time, and ended up sticking mostly on the poetry end of the spectrum. Another long pause from anything as I got hit with life repeatedly, and then two years ago, I started writing fanfiction. I wasn't planning on it; I could always find what I wanted to read in abundance before. Never had to write myself. But now I'm in a smaller fandom (SK's the Stand - specifically the newest 2020 series). There are some amazing stories there, but not a whole lot for my favorite character. Make what you can't find mentality took over. (Even though I was am anxious about posting anything.) Now I'm trying my hand at something original, although it has been slow going.

In regards to what I enjoy, I loved when puzzle pieces came to me. Just listening to music and letting my mind run through the scenes in my head was the absolute best. It kind of helped with missing directing too. I may not be able to do that specifically right now, but I can direct the little characters in my head. I can set design for them, and block the scene. Lighting, sound. Character development, my love. That's my favorite of the bunch. But yeah... I enjoyed that process a lot.

I still feel new (and honestly underqualified) myself, but I can pass along a tip that really worked for me. I was stuck on a scene. It felt like the words were stale, and everything was mechanical. Going through motions. I was asked (by @impuretale - thank you so much again!) if instead of things going like they were, characters saying what they 'should', what if somebody made it worse. That really hit me. Made me realize I was stuck on one track. I saw what I wanted and was forcing the scene in that line, but it wasn't the best option. This prompt broke me off the path and made me look at other options. Helped a lot. Eternally grateful for that advice.

#Thank you for the ask!!#Ask-a-thon

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sapphic-gardn · 7 months

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Sage & camellia for the asks <3

hi mari baby <3

sage • what 'medium' of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?

poetry and music have always been my #1. i used to be a poetry blog so my love really lies there. and music….oh music. i can’t survive a few hours without listening to some sort of music. however, i cannot play any instruments or sing. i tried singing lessons when i was 10 years old and my teacher scolded me for asking to sing “i kissed a girl” by katy perry. so yeah wtf.

camellia • what were you like when you were younger? do you think you've changed a lot?

when i was younger (like a small girl) i was a little ball of energy. i was always dancing and playing pretend. i would spend a lot of time outside in my own little world. i was very happy all the time and i wasn’t shy at all. miss girl was confident but also extremely annoying (undiagnosed adhd babe).

when i was in high school, i look at her and cringe. i was so insecure and docile, i never spoke my mind and i totally lost myself in a relationship that was toxic (traumatic times 💋).

i think in a lot of ways i don’t recognize myself from before. and i mean that in the best way. i feel like i’ve changed massively! i see so much beauty in the world, i see beauty within myself. all i wanna do is spread kindness and i think that’s really lovely :)

#i love u mari #sorry for ranting lol #my answers are always so long help #jen answers

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lgcheewon · 2 years

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hi hello and thank you for the warm welcomes. i'm new (they/them) and i'm... new lol more importantly, this is heewon and he's an aspiring rapper who likes coffee and cracking the type of jokes that make you laugh before wondering "wait is he ok?" i have a tl;dr under the cut, but you can find an even shorter one on his stats page here. feebly cobbled together some plot ideas too!

i don't have a twitter or anything of the sort, but if you're down to plot and don't mind doing it the old-fashioned way in ims, feel free to like this post and i'll hit you up when i can (or feel free to im me first)!

heewon (you can also call him won) is not an interesting guy. or so he'll tell you! he doesn't like it when people have too many expectations of him. makes it too easy to disappoint, y'know?

born and raised in nyc, he's the eldest of three and the kind of prodigal son that parents who put too much money into cram school and the like weep about. he's born to a well-off family, but has no real interest in anything but music (and this is apparent early on), and even that's a stretch.

he doesn't really think about pursuing anything as a performer himself until he auditions for lgc on a whim and actually gets invited to be a trainee. by then he's kind of on the older side and it feels like a crapshoot, but hey. it's almost been three years. maybe he's doing something right? or wrong? who tf knows lmao.

he's chill, mellow, laidback, easygoing, etc. and he very much so floats on by at his own pace. he comes across as pretty aloof sometimes, but he doesn't mind small talk and he doesn't mind meeting new people! with the obligatory downside that he probably won't remember your name. no hard feelings, really. it's just hard for him to care enough! (ok. sorry. maybe some hard feelings?)

he is a hard worker when it counts but he's never joking when he asks you to keep your expectations low. he doesn't like disappointing people and it's easier when the bar's closer to the ground. does he work hard? yeah. but does he want you to know that? not really. he cracks a lot of jokes at his own expense to mask the weird kind of self-esteem issues he has. perks of being the failed first son, am i right?

fiercely private when it comes to his personal affairs or emotional issues, he'd rather you think he has very few cares in the world. no hard feelings (for real, this time) or anything. it's just the big brother in him kicking in.

on a lighter note, he's kind of pretentious in the way he likes foreign films and poetry and film photography and pretending he knows a thing or two about loose-leaf tea, but he's also the kind of guy who likes doing a little bit of everything. he's down for most things too. it's hard to embarrass him. everyone has to be "bad" at something, right?

WANTED VIBES

event... stuff.... (pretending like i know what's going on)

childhood friends — he went back and forth between korea and america pretty frequently, especially during the summers. his family has a separate home in seongbuk!

high school friends — he went to high school in korea for about two years (at a foreign school, but he's fluent in korean and english!) before going back to the states for university and then coming back to korea to join lgc.

trainee friends — i'd imagine he probably has a lot but maybe only a few that are actually close-close with him. he's not a cold or frigid person by any means, but he's certainly a lot private and he likes to keep things as lighthearted as possible. he's a nice person to have around! and even when he's less than delightful around his closer friends, he usually tries to keep the sad vibes to a minimum.

antagon???istic??? — ample question marks because he likely would not return any strong negative emotion. please feel free to resent him for literally anything but he's really good at ignoring the things (years of practice, baby) that he doesn't care for so don't expect any sparks!

KEYWORD CONNECTIONS

sugar — did i say no negative emotion? well, i lied! just kidding. but he does resent you a little. it's not really your fault, but for whatever reason, the barista in the company building keeps getting your order confused with his. maybe it's because you two are the only ones who seem to be there at that awkward mid-morning hour? either way, he's getting a little sick of your drink. is it even human to consume something this sweet...?

past — (similar age) hello to the ex he still cares a lot about! he's the type of person who says "sure" to anyone who confesses to him. bad habit? maybe. but what's the harm in giving it a shot? well, maybe there's a little harm when he actually catches feelings. the relationship ends almost as quickly as it starts, and maybe it's because you started off as (and thankfully stayed) friends, but he does think, privately, that in another life, he might have given it a little more effort to make it work.

sibling — his brother/sister has the biggest crush on you and he's been tasked with getting your autograph. but he's bad with faces and even worse with names. isn't it funny, pal, the way his baby sibling's celeb crush has the same stage name as you? the world sure is small—oh.

dawn — he goes for a jog every morning. just because routine keeps him sane and all, and because the rec soccer team he plays on on sundays is way more serious than he thought it would be. while his runs are often pretty uneventful, it's on one morning in particular that he turns a corner too quickly and crashes right into you. did you roll your ankle? sprain it? well, fuck. say the word. he'll be at your beck and call until it heals in penance. consider it good karma.

puppy — (younger) for whatever reason, you have a crush on him. you should get your eyes (or brain) checked when you can, by the way. you've definitely got a screw loose. he's not so inattentive that he doesn't notice, but he sure doesn't want to break any hearts—so he'll pretend he doesn't know. all while pushing you to find someone else to set your sights on. for your sake.

coffee — he likes people watching. he especially likes watching your reaction every time you drop by the coffee shop he works at just to bravely try some of the shop's best (but woefully un-sweetened) coffee. next time he catches you in the legacy building, he'll treat you to some coffee milk. lol. baby.

close — (same age or older) of his best and closest friends, you are his best and his closest friend. it's not by a long shot or anything (he wouldn't want to offend the others, after all), but if there had to be a tier or a hierarchy, you'd probably be at the tippy top. he's comfortable around you. and you make it easy. probably why he's caught some feelings, right? no worries—he wouldn't dream of risking what you're sharing with him. sooner or later, the palpitations will fade. hopefully.

photograph — (similar age) it's a shame you're not really friends anymore but it's always easier to stick with the people who share the same level of ambition and drive as you, huh? he's an overly sentimental person, though. and while he's okay with the fact that you're orbiting different stars now, he still keeps that stupid polaroid of the first sleepless night spent practicing in an eerie studio together in his wallet. or he did. where did he drop it...

#um idk how to do small text anymore so don't @ me #use your imagination you can do it

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