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roosterr · 8 months

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whatchya got, boy?

note: requested by @wetsocksinbed :D this fic came to me in a prophetic vision as soon as i read that ask, all i have to say is i was cackling maniacally while writing it. bon apetit.

pairing: john 'soap's mactavish x gn!reader

wc: 4.4k

summary: soap is scared of dogs, you're a k9 handler. your dog is good at finding bodies, he doesn't ever want him to have to find yours.

warnings: angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence

ao3

soap has never liked dogs.

when people ask him why, he tells them that it's just how he is. he wasn't bitten by one, it's not a trauma response, he just doesn't like them, plain and simple. being in the military and having a phobia of dogs is like painting a giant red target on his forehead, so in the interest of not getting relentlessly made fun of, he keeps it to himself.

until recently, it hasn't been a problem.

then you came along, with your quick wit and charming smile, and he was a goner from the moment you first met.

price had given them your files, told them you and your partner are on loan to the one-four-one for the next few months while they track down a particularly slippery target. the term partner had initially disappointed soap, but then you'd both marched into the room with your heads held high, and he realised;

oh. your partner is a dog.

a german shepherd, to be precise. you're a canine handler, like the universe is playing a trick on him – he hasn't been genuinely interested in someone in god knows how long, and when he finally finds somebody, you're accompanied at all hours by one of the few things he fears.

he's about ready to give up on pursuing you before the briefing is even over, but as the others all stand and file out of the meeting room, your partner comes bounding up to him in all his fanged, furry glory and soap almost has a heart attack.

"he doesn't usually trust strangers," you told him as your dog sits at his feet and wags his tail so hard it might be at risk of dislocation. johnny’s moments away from bolting, the fear climbing up his nerves like constricting vines.

"lucky me, eh?" he smiles at you, which was honestly more like a grimace, but somehow you're not offended by his obvious dislike of your partner. you let out a laugh, and the sound is so melodic he almost forgets about the beast waiting at his heel.

"you can pet him," you grin knowingly, and soap gets the sinking feeling you've figured him out already, "he doesn't bite – not unless i tell him to."

"cheers, but i'll pass…" johnny attempts to protest, in the motion of taking a step back, but you grab his hand before he can escape and drag it down to your dog's face with an amused grin.

"his name's rex." he hears you say, but the way your dog is sniffing at his hand has every muscle in his body tensing involuntarily. he's mortified that you're seeing him react like this, he already knows he'll never be able to live this down once the others find out.

when rex chuffs and starts to lick at his hand, johnny feels like his soul might leave his body. the sharp teeth so close to his skin is so unnerving, the only thing stopping him from making a run for it is your soft grip still around his wrist.

he looks to you for help, but you're watching him with a mischievous grin that sends his heart aflutter.

"see? that wasn't so bad." you chuckle, crouching down next to your dog and thankfully taking rex's attention off him. johnny breathes a quiet sigh of relief, wiping his wet hand on his trousers as he watches you fuss over the canine.

you're endearing, and johnny has to admit that seeing you coo at rex like he's a baby makes him slightly less terrifying.

"price put you up to this?" he asks, holding back a flinch when rex looks up at the sound of his voice.

"he did." you nod, standing back up and meeting his eyes again. "but rex actually does like you. guess you're just charming like that."

"well, thank god for that…" johnny grumbles, his voice dripping with sarcasm. you laugh again, and with the way his pulse quickens, he can't help but send you a cocky grin. "but what i wanna know is, do you like me?"

"hmm…" you feign indecision with a poorly concealed smirk, tapping a finger on your chin before leaning closer and placing a hand on his bicep. "i may need a little more convincing."

after that, johnny can hardly keep himself away from you.

whenever you're next to him he's got an arm slung over your shoulder, you’re always talking – texting when you’re apart – and any free time he has is spent following you around base, not unlike rex at your heel.

you ask him if he wants to watch you when you train rex, and initially he tries to say no, because he thinks seeing rex practising attacking people might break whatever spell you've cast that makes him not hate the dog; but you drag him along anyway, and he ends up being glad that you did.

it's fascinating, watching rex sniff a shirt from your hand and track down whoever it belongs to with expert precision. it looks almost like a game to the canine, the way his tail swings back and forth the whole time as he effortlessly completes any task you give him.

he finds the dummies you hide with ease, even when they're buried under piles of boxes and clothes and various other obstacles. johnny actually finds himself respecting the dog, which is shocking since a few weeks ago he never would've been able to handle even being in the same room as one.

you give johnny the treats to feed rex, which makes him nervous all over again when the canine looks up at him with wide eyes and all his sharp teeth on display. it takes some coaxing from you, but eventually he gets comfortable enough to let rex take a treat from his hand. he may not admit it, but the only reason he even lets rex get so close is because you're there. simply your presence gives him the courage, makes him feel secure.

"when this is over," johnny begins, hand twitching under rex's tongue and looking at you with such fondness it feels like his heart is about to burst, "i'll take you out proper, treat you right."

you blink at him, surprised, but not a moment later a wide smile is taking over your face. "i look forward to it, mactavish."

the others, particularly gaz and ghost, give him hell for how infatuated he's become with you, but their teasing doesn't deter him. he likes you, and he doesn't care if everybody knows it; you like him too, and that's all he really cares about.

now, sitting in the heli on the way to what they hope will be the final location for this mission, he was almost disappointed to be done with it. you were only on loan for this mission, so once they have their target, you'd be gone. he was hoping, optimistically, that once everything was said and done he could convince you to stay with the one-four-one. he was sure he could talk price into it, and though it was selfish of him, he just wanted you to stay by his side.

you're sitting next to him in the back of the aircraft, rex between your legs with his head resting on your thigh, staring up at johnny with those big brown eyes. without even thinking, he reaches a hand out and ruffles the fur on his head, earning a nudge and an adoring smile from you when he looks over.

"he might like you better than me," you tease, scratching behind rex's ear who was yet to take his eyes off of johnny.

"don't be jealous now, bonnie." he chuckles, returning the nudge to your shoulder. "you can have 'im on weekends."

you grin again and lightly shake your head, taking rex's face in your hands and bending over to press a kiss to the top of his head. "you love me the most, right boy?"

before long, the helicopter is landing and the five of you – plus rex – are following the captain out into the forest. it's cold when they exit the heli, night vision goggles highlighting the terrain through the darkness of the night.

the silence buzzes as you all stalk through the trees. johnny pays more attention to you than he should as you walk beside him, anxiety lighting up his nerves for how this mission will go.

as according to the plan, once the manor is in sight, you all split off into teams of two; him and ghost, price and gaz, and you and rex. he trusted you to do well, like you have been doing for the last few months, but he can't help the way his shoulders tense as he watches you disappear around the corner.

the building is guarded, which was expected of course, but they only had to take down a dozen or so guards until the place was barren.

the corridors were eerily deserted, bathed in a moonlit glow as johnny crept around the manor, following closely behind ghost with both of their heads on a swivel. the radio was quiet, by design for the mission plan, but somehow this time felt different, like they wouldn't hear him if he did call out.

it's the beeping that gives it away. so faint, he almost missed it, but his senses are sharpened like a blade – and as a demolitions specialist, he knows the sound of an explosive when he hears it.

johnny carefully pushes open the door to his right, scanning the room for any movement and finding none, but when his gaze lands on the centre of the room, his pulse skips a beat.

propane canisters, fuse linking them all together, and most concerning, a timer on top blinking at him; two minutes, ticking down with a sickening green glow.

"ghost," he calls, his voice hard and serious as the anxiety builds again, "it's rigged."

ghost steps into the doorway next to him, following johnny's arm as he points to the device.

"fuck." he spits, stepping back and clicking the radio on his vest, but no sound comes out. ghost curses again, looking back to johnny with a tense expression that the sergeant mirrors. "radios aren't workin' either. let's move, c'mon."

there's no room for argument in his tone, marching back the way they came with johnny in tow.

as they emerge back out into the night, price and gaz appear from around the corner, both lifting their goggles and approaching with concern evident on their faces.

"what happened?" price's gaze darts around behind them as he speaks, as if waiting for someone to jump out and attack.

"the place is rigged, we have to go." ghost explains, already moving past them and away from the manor.

the captain nods, gesturing for johnny and gaz to follow as he tries his radio with no luck, just like ghost. the pit of anxiety lingered, getting heavier by the second.

"move it, soap." price commands, a deep frown creasing his brow.

but johnny doesn't move. "hold on, where's k-9?" he asks, a frown of his own pulling his features downwards.

"radios are down, we don't have time to look for 'em." ghost calls over to them, earning a solemn nod from the captain, who tries to move him with a hand on his shoulder.

the radios are down, you have no way of knowing the building is rigged. there's no way johnny's about to leave you on your own in the blind, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did.

"no. i'm not leavin' without 'em." johnny growls, his face morphing into a frown as he brushes off the captain's arm and turns to go back inside.

"they might already be outside." gaz tries to reason, stepping in front of him and blocking him from the doorway. kyle's regretful gaze cuts through him, and there's the distinct feeling that everyone else has already given up on you. "we have to move, mate."

johnny scoffs. "fuck that! i can't just leave 'em!" he hisses, insulted by the very idea of leaving one of their own to fend for themselves. no, that's not how they operate, that's not how he operates.

a flash of anger shoots through him and he's about to shove past gaz, but before he can move, price is yanking him away.

"soap!" he growls, shaking him slightly as he grabs johnny's other arm. "get it together, you are not goin' back in there."

before he can argue, he's being grabbed by ghost and dragged away from the manor with him as the other two jog ahead of them into the treeline.

"oi!" johnny shouts, struggling in the lieutenants iron grip, but to no avail. ghost practically drags him along as he digs his heels into the dirt, writhing in an attempt to escape and go back for you.

he's desperate, he can't lose you, not before he takes you on that date, he promised, you can't die yet–

johnny blinks, the deep, rumbling boom completely derailing his thoughts and starting a piercing ringing in his ears.

white hot fire bursts from the windows of the manor, showering the surrounding area in shards of glass and debris as the heat escapes the building in waves.

no.

everything seemed to stop around him. ghost stopped trying to drag him away, the trees stopped blowing in the wind, he almost stopped breathing. the world pauses as the walls of the manor are engulfed in flames.

no.

johnny rips his arm out of ghost's grip and stumbles back towards the manor, his mind floating out of his body.

"no!" johnny wails, ignoring the heat on his face and taking a shaky step over the jagged stone and glass that crunches under his boot, "no! they're still–" his voice breaks, "they're still in there, for fucks sake!"

"johnny!" ghost shouts, grabbing him by the strap on the back of his vest and yanking him sharply away from the blaze. "they're gone." he mutters, purposefully avoiding soap's glassy eyes.

"shut the fuck up!" he cries, thumping his fist against ghost's chest and clawing at the arm holding him back. the tears spill from his eyes hard and fast, constricting his throat and blurring his vision.

he falls to his knees with his head in his hands and ghost lets him, the debris that litters the ground sharp against his flesh, but nothing compared to the pain in his chest.

it wasn't supposed to go like this.

you were supposed to come back, and he was supposed to take you out and give you a perfect date and he'd kiss you at the end of the night and now he'd never get to do any of that because–

you're gone. slipped through his fingers like sand into the ocean.

"c'mon, johnny." he hears ghost mutter, his voice distant even though he's right there, pulling him to stand by his arm. "let's regroup."

he doesn't struggle this time, shaking himself free of his lieutenant's grip and shuffling past him with his head hanging low. if there was a god, he's sure they're laughing at him by now. it all felt like some kind of cruel joke; give him hope by granting him someone to love after all these lonely years, and then rip you out of his arms before he can know the happiness you would bring him.

he and ghost don't get far before he hears the lieutenant stop in his tracks, but he doesn't care to know why, the hollow feeling in his chest won't allow him to.

"the dog…" ghost utters from behind him, an air of disbelief in his monotone voice. johnny freezes, a cold dread travelling up his spine as he hears the unmistakable sound of rex's claws padding towards them.

he turns slowly on his heel, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

your dog is standing in front of him.

"rex…?" he calls softly, taking in the dust and ash and dirt and blood caked into his rich brown fur, illuminated by the fire still raging. rex barks, tilting his head like he's confused, and johnny falls to his knees again, uncaring for the way the rubble tears through his trousers and his skin. "no, no no no no–"

rex is alone. you're not with him. he doesn't go anywhere without you, and that can only mean one thing.

the confirming thought alone shatters the dam completely.

the sobs wrack his body and johnny gathers rex into his arms, hugging him tightly to his chest, burying his face into his thick fur despite the filth that coats the both of them. he whimpers and whines in johnny's ear, and the sound only makes his heart hurt even more.

a few months ago he never would've dreamed he'd be hugging a dog, but you changed that; you'd helped him work on his fear, and even if rex was the only one he could tolerate, it was still leagues better than what he could accomplish without you.

but now you’re gone, and neither of them have you to fall back on.

johnny sinks his fingers deep into rex's fur, sniffling pathetically because he may have lost you, but your canine lost his entire world and he would never understand where you went, why you left him all alone, why you weren’t coming back.

rex begins to wriggle in his arms, and soap knows he wants him to let go but he can't bring himself to. this dog is all he has left of you now; he would take care of your beloved canine, it doesn't matter if he was still terrified in the back of his mind.

after a painful few minutes, jonny regains the awareness to remember where they are and the fact that ghost is still watching him break down with the dog in his arms. with a trembling sigh, he loosens his hold on rex and pulls back, wiping a dusty hand over his eyes.

as he pushes himself to stand rex barks again, startling johnny with a jolt of panic before bounding back the way he came, away from him and ghost.

johnny frowns. "hey, don't run," he mutters, ambling after the canine as he pads backwards. every time johnny gets close, rex slips just out of reach before he can grab him.

ghost sighs, but allows him to go after the dog, keeping a watchful eye on them as they get further away.

the way he was running along and looking back to make sure johnny was following reminded him a worrying amount of how he acted in his training. the training where you would hide a dummy for him and johnny would reward him with treats when he led you to the fake body.

"no, no rex," except this time, the body wouldn't be fake. "please, boy, just come back…"

rex doesn't react to his pleading, determined to lead him to what johnny knows he’s found, but desperately wants to deny anyway. he tries to stop, to turn back and never have to face the reality of you being gone, but the canine won't let him. he takes johnny's trousers between his razor teeth and growls, deep and threatening, as he tries to pull him along.

the sound makes johnny freeze, fear clawing at the back of his mind as an instinctual reaction, but he blinks hard and pushes through it. "alright, i'm comin'..."

rex lets go once he’s sure he’ll follow again, trotting ahead with the occasional check behind him to make sure johnny was still there. he follows the canine past the rubble, through the treeline, and into the underbrush where the sick feeling in his throat only grows stronger.

he doesn't bother with the night vision goggles. the fire provides enough waving light for him to just about see where he’s going, and he really has no desire to see what rex is guiding him to.

johnny almost trips over him when the canine comes to an abrupt stop, his wide eyes trained on a bush to johnny’s left.

the dread pooling in his stomach becomes suffocating.

"wh…?" he swallows thickly, crouching down to rex's level and placing a hand on his back, feeling his laboured breath that matches his own. "...whatchya got, boy?"

rex barks and noses at the branches of the bush, before stepping backwards a few paces and looking expectantly between johnny and the shrub.

johnny stares at the bush. no amount of training could've prepared him for the terror he feels imagining what he’ll find on the other side of it. as if sensing his hesitation, rex barks again to spur him on, but it only makes his heart sink further.

his hand shakes as he reaches for the branches. there's a stutter in his heartbeat, a hitch in his breath, as he pushes them aside to reveal–

"bleedin' fuckin' jesus–" johnny cries, jumping through the foliage to couch over your weakened form, forgetting his fear all together as he ruffles rex's fur with both hands and a breaking smile when he barks again. "oh good boy rex! good boy, fuckin' hell!"

it's you, blood and ash smeared across your skin and your chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, and johnny's just so happy you're alive he can't think to be afraid when rex snaps at his hands in a misdirected effort to protect you. he presses both hands against the slice in your abdomen, using the few medical supplies in his vest to help stop the bleeding as the tears being to well again.

"shit, stay with me, hun, i've got ye…" he mumbles, putting all his weight onto your stomach. "ghost! help me!"

the rest is a blur.

they carry you to the helicopter, rex barking protectively between their legs the whole way until he can lay on guard between your legs on take off.

when they finally touch down back at base, johnny has to grab rex by the vest so the medics can carry you out, wrestling him away as he barks and whines in protest. johnny stays with the canine while you're in surgery and for the days you're asleep, making sure he's fed and allowing him to sleep in his room so he won’t be alone – despite how uncomfortable it makes him, and how little sleep he gets because of it.

it's four days until you wake up.

he's not the first to find out, but as soon as the words reach his ears he’d racing down the corridors and bursting through the infirmary doors with enough intensity to make you jump out of your skin. the sight of you sitting up and talking to price almost has his eyes watering again, but he pushes that urge down.

he approaches your bed more carefully, a wobbly smile pulling at his lips under your warm gaze. with an understanding look, price is patting him on the shoulder as he passes by and leaving the two of you alone with each other.

"aren't you a sight for sore eyes," johnny grins, taking a seat in the chair next to your bed and grasping your hand in his. a smile lifts your features as he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there as a heat rises in his cheeks.

"i could say the same, my knight in shining armour." you reply, moving your hand to cradle the side of his head and smoothing your thumb over his brow. he revels in the contact, the tension bleeding from his muscles under your touch. "where's rex?"

"he's fine, i made sure." he reassures you, and you let out a sigh of relief at his words, visibly relaxing into the pillows holding you up. "tried sneakin' him in here, but the nurses wouldn't have it."

a laugh escapes you, the sound still managing to make his heart feel light, even all these months later. "can't imagine why," you tease, gently nudging his head as he chuckles along with you.

it feels like a weight is lifted from his shoulders, finally having you with him again. his eyes flutter shut as the relief washes over him, and a minute passes where neither of you speak, simply basking in each other's presence.

there's a scratching sound at the door that interrupts the peace and quiet, and the two of you share a knowing smile. not a moment later, the door is being pulled open just enough for rex to slip through and skid towards your bed on the linoleum floor, wagging his tail at breakneck speed.

before the door can completely close, johnny catches a glimpse of gaz’s mischievous grin and groans, but he doesn't have time to yell at him before he’s out of sight and rex is distracting him by leaping onto your bed.

you wheeze as your canine braces his paws on your chest and begins his assault on your face, licking every inch of skin he can reach with a series of excited chuffs and narrowly missing johnny’s head with his swinging tail.

"hi rex! you saved my life, didn’t you boy?" you giggle, affectionately ruffling his fur and planting kisses of your own on his face. "who’s a good boy? who’s the best sniffer dog ever?"

johnny clears his throat, drawing your attention to him as you cuddle rex to your chest. "i don’t want’a blow my own horn here, but i saved yer life too…" he gives you that lopsided grin, a playful glint in his eyes that makes you laugh again.

"you want some pets too?" you chuckle, reaching over and dragging his head over to you by a hand on the back of his neck. "good job, johnny, you’re a good boy too." you coo, pressing your lips to his forehead and the tip of his nose as you ruffle his mohawk like rex’s fur.

the effect is immediate. his cheeks burn again with a striking red blush, and he chokes on his breath in bashful embarrassment under your ministrations. he hopes you haven't noticed his reaction, but the way your laugh bubbles up again he can tell you’ve caught on.

"i think i like that more than i should, bonnie." he mutters, pressing his forehead against yours and allowing his eyes to flutter shut. you hum sweetly, your warm breath fanning over his face.

"don’t short circuit on me yet, soap, you still owe me a date."

tagging: @cheezbites

#soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #roosterr writes

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eyeheartboobiez · 4 months

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-> 𝗃𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝖽 𝗑 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

-> 𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖺 𝖺𝗎!

-> 𝖺/𝗇: 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖫𝖠𝖲𝖳 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖺 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗃𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆 𝗂 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋😭

Jason Todd and ex girlfriend, Artemis Grace, spotted outside a club together just hours ago! May this old flame be finding its spark again? (8/20/2022 3:14 AM PT)

For months now, people have been buzzing after Gotham elite Jason Todd and singer Y/N Y/LN hinted at being in a relationship. Ever since this past March when they were initially spotted together, fans have done nothing short of obsessing over the two.

Artemis Grace, former girlfriend of Jason, had gotten into some hot water recently when insiders claimed that the singer had something to do with leaking Y/N’s unreleased track, Fantasize.

As mentioned in former articles, TMZ investigators came to the conclusion that Artemis was involved in publishing the song as a way of “getting her lick back”. Time logs show that the dubbed “rival” singer entered the same studio as Y/N not too long after she left for the night.

Many people online have been more than vocal about their love for the song, despite the fact that it was released without the artist’s consent.

While Artemis has yet issue a statement regarding the accusations, she seems to have plenty of time to be out partying with her ex.

Fast forward to last night, when just hours ago, Jason and Artemis were seen leaving a nightclub together and looking very close for comfort. Onlookers were not only shocked, but absolutely gagged when they saw the two hugging each other goodbye.

With their late night rendezvous breaking headlines, some fans are starting to question if Jason may have also played a part in helping Artemis, or if they ever really broke up at all!

The exes, who were romantically involved for almost two years, have a long history of being toxic towards each other. Their on-again-off-again relationship was notorious for its dysfunctionality, making it hard to keep up most of the time.

It wasn't until late last year when both Jason and Artemis officially called it quits by posting an announcement on their respective Instagram accounts (although many were skeptical to believe it).

Despite the initial shock of the situation, it begs the question: Where does Y/N stand in all of this?

Fans of the singer songwriter were quick to come to her support, majority of whom expressing their clear disappointment in Jason.

“I was really betting on these two,” says Twitter user @y/n’scoochiehairs. “I feel like a child of divorce…”. The fan account, while only just a few months old, grew exponentially due to their constant posts about the alleged couple.

Many sentiments like this have been circulating the internet once the pictures from last night began to surface. Y/N is notorious for putting her emotions into her songs, so at least we know she’ll be releasing new music soon, right?

— replies —

user1: oh she really aint playing...

user2: COOK HIM GOOD SIS!!

user3: girl this is a whole bar put this energy into a song or sumn😭

user4: sooo what im hearing is that ur single🤔

⤷ user5: ntm on my wife now..

user6: this next album bouta be BIBLICAL

user7: genuinely hope youre doing okay🥺🫶

user8: ily queen🩷

people you may know!

liked by b_zarro and 613,189 others

@artemisofmighdall: last night was a dream✨

View all 25,846 comments

user1: first you mess with her music then you mess with her man.. if bold was a person…

user2: the hell is she smiling so damn big for?? ain’t shit funny😐

user3: girl you betta PRAY i don’t catch you in these streets…

user4: “last night was a dream” yeah and you in for a rude awakening cuz wth💀

user5: these comments killing me😭

user6: you already going to hell for being a ginger now you just making it worse for yourself🤦‍♀️

— creator has turned off comments—

end notes: is jason involved or is he just being framed👀 lmk what you think!!

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youweresomagnetic · 4 months

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Say Don't Go // Tom Blyth

Pairing // Tom Blyth x reader

//known it from the very start, we’re a shot in the darkest dark.//

You knew coming into this movie a several months ago that you couldn’t let your feelings for your co-star, Tom, go to your head. From the first reading you two shared, there was something inside of you that longed for him. You couldn’t decipher whether it was his wavy brown hair that made his baby blue eyes stand out, his charming British accent, or his easiness that made being around him so comfortable. Probably all of it. Meeting him flipped some sort of switch inside of you that made you think about him 24/7 and you couldn’t turn it off. If you knew taking the movie was going to hurt this bad, you probably wouldn’t have taken it. But how could you not? This was your first big break after doing smaller acting gigs for years, and with the movie being based on a New York Times bestselling book it was already going to be a hit. The internal battle naturally ended with you convincing yourself that you could suppress these feelings until filming was over and then move on to your next job. If anything, you could use these feelings to your advantage and allow them to show during takes. You knew you were a great actor. It was proven when you landed this role of a lifetime, but there was no need for acting when it came to you two playing love interests. At least on your side anyway. You’ve come to love him, but you knew you couldn’t. He had a girlfriend.

You quickly snap back to reality from daydreaming about him as he casually calls out “hey,” from across the room where he just finished shooting his last scene of the day. He swiftly throws on his jacket, slings his bag over his shoulder and then walks towards you with a delicate smile on his face that makes your heart do a small flip in your chest. His smile is the most beautiful smile you swear you’ve ever seen.

“Want to go grab a bite?” he asks breaking you from daydreaming. Again.

Of course you want to say yes, but spending a million hours a day with him already has your heart in shambles. No need to add to the heartbreak. Although recently, you’ve been filming scenes separately and haven’t seen him around as much. It’s hard not to miss him. Feelings aside, you’ve found a true friendship in him. You just wish your heart would’ve allowed the feelings to stay at a friendship level.

“I don’t know, it’s been a long day and I-”

“No excuses,” he playfully cut you off. “I was getting used to having you around so much.” His smile faded slightly as he paused and looked into your eyes like he wanted to say something more, then decided not to. A short moment passed then he continued, “I know even if you’re not hungry you’re always down for a drink.” He winked as he finished that last sentence. He was right. He doesn’t know that you drink around him to swallow your feelings though. He grabbed you by the arm and said, “come on, first glass on me.” You can’t help the pink that rushes to your cheeks as he leads you towards the exit.

There’s a small pub about a block away from where your movie is being filmed. It’s become an all too familiar place as it’s where you find yourselves whenever you get a chance for a break. The food is decent, the drinks are good, and it’s a chill, private atmosphere. No one bothers you and you can simply just be. A pang of bitter sweetness hits you as you realize you’re going to deeply miss this place when filming wraps.

You find your usual booth near the back while Tom stops at the bar for the drink that he promised you. You take in the warm and comfortable atmosphere and feel thankful for evenings like this. A few minutes go by before he slides into the seat across from you with drinks and some fries for you two to split.

“So where is your girlfriend tonight?” you ask genuinely curious because it’s already getting late, and you’re surprised that he didn’t want to head home to her. Or to the hotel rather since she sometimes comes into town to be with him.

“She’s out of town right now on a job, and currently working crazier hours than we are.” he states.

You found it shocking that anyone could work more hours than you’re already putting in, but his girlfriend is also in the film industry, so you understand that it just comes with the territory. “Ah, I see.” you say before sipping down some wine. You smile lightly at the fact that he knew your favorite without having to tell him.

Before long you check the time and realize that 2 hours have flown by. You’re shocked every single time by how quickly time goes by when you’re with him. You wish it didn’t. Then you start realizing how quickly the whole thing is flying by. The filming, the long days on set starting to feel like short ones when you look back on them, the early mornings spent around your hair and makeup crew, the coffee runs to make it through the longest days, the laughs shared between everyone, and of course evenings like these. Fuck you’re going to miss these evenings. You feel a deep ache in your chest as you already feel this moment turning into a memory. It’ll all be over and gone too quickly. He will be over and gone too quickly. Suddenly your thoughts are racing one hundred miles per hour. You want to tell him that you hope you can still stay friends even after all the press runs and you’ve moved onto future separate projects. You want to tell him how much you love his friendship and how it's come to mean so much to you over these past several months, and how much you’ve loved every memory that you’ve made together, and how much you love him- “I love you.” you spit out before you even had time to stop yourself.

Time stood still.

You are in utter disbelief with yourself and more than anything you just want to run and hide. You would do anything to be anywhere else in this moment. You knew it was the alcohol talking. You knew you should’ve only had one glass. But one quickly turned into three, and anyone who knows you knows that three may as well have been five or six.

You stare blankly at each other. His face is unreadable. You secretly pray to whoever is listening that this is just a dream.

“I just mean that I’m so thankful that you got cast with me. I couldn’t have asked for a better person… I’m going to miss this, and I love you for everything you’ve done to help make this something unforgettable.” you ramble hoping that was a nice enough save to cover your ass.

//the waiting is a sadness, fading into madness.//

There’s only silence between you two. There are a few other people in the pub enjoying drinks in comfortable presences around you, sharing laughs and you find yourself jealous that you’re not them right now. You feel yourself slipping into madness as the stillness between you and Tom drags on. You find yourself holding your breath in fear over the fact that you can’t tell what he’s thinking right now. You and Tom have always been able to read each other ever since you got close. Spending countless days with someone allows that to happen eventually. But right now, you’re even more scared that he could read you. Did he see past the excuse you tried to make? What if you haven’t been hiding your feelings as well as you thought you have? Does he know how you feel about him? You’re convinced he knows now. You can’t wait for him to speak anymore; you need to leave. You need fresh air. Or literally anything else. You begin sliding out of the booth and you feel his rough hands land on top on yours, stopping you. His eyes demand eye contact with yours. His eyes as blue as the prettiest ocean you can imagine, his eyes that feel like home, you give in.

“Tell me.” He begs with a softness to his voice that you aren’t sure you’ve heard before.

This time there’s no questioning what he’s thinking. You know he’s asking for truth. Of course he knows you well enough to have read through the lame excuse. You retract your hands and fall back against the booth seat trying to regain comfortability, but there’s nothing comfortable about this.

“You already know,” you whisper then sigh before continuing, “I meant it.”

//why’d you whisper in the dark just to leave me in the night?//

You brush your anxieties to the side and look up at his face. He looks…sad? Are tears forming in the corners of his eyes? You’re not talking anymore, it’s his turn.

“I love you, too.”

You’re paralyzed by his words, but you can tell by the way he said it that it’s not that easy. There are too many improbabilities forcing you two apart. You should be happy at his confession. Instead, you’re left feeling emptier than before. It’s almost worse knowing he feels this way but will ultimately return to the one he loves most. You wish you never would have spoken. You wish he would’ve just pretended to not hear you say it. Anything other than this, because you know what comes next. Work will continue around drowned out feelings that can’t be acknowledged from this moment forward. Neither of you have to say it, you can feel it. This night will stay a secret.

Through falling tears, you and Tom share a look of understanding. You love each other. But you can’t. This time when you slide out of the booth and walk toward the exit of the tiny pub that was once a happy place now turned into a heartbreaking memory, he doesn’t stop you. Halfway to the door, you’re holding out hope for him to say, “don’t go.” You would’ve stayed forever if he did.

#tom blyth #taylor swift #say don't go #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth fic #tbosas #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tom blyth imagine #coryo snow #tom blyth x you

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woso-lover234 · 19 days

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Hello, I’ve recently discovered your blog and I love your writing! Your fluff is so good!

I was wondering if you were willing to write arsenal / alessia russo x (platonic)reader?

Where reader is new to the team and the youngest (maybe 15-16) and is very shy and quiet but she feels very safe and calm around Alessia so she tends to stand or sit around her but since she’s new she is scared alessia doesn’t appreciate her being around so much and the older girls like Leah, Katie, Beth realize that and so they talk with alessia about it only to realize Alessia thinks it’s adorable that reader finds comfort in being around her so from now on Alessia will purposely stand next to reader during training and just give her hugs and encourage her which helps reader’s confidence and they see her start to come out of her shell and Alessia ends up as reader’s mother figure

I know this was kinda long so if you don’t want to write it, it’s totally okay! Have a nice day <3

Alessia Russo x (platonic) reader- physical touch

You weren't new persay but you were new to the senior team having only played with Arsenal academy since you were 10 and climbing the ranks and now at 15 (almost 16) you had been invited to join the senior team for trainings and hopefully if Jonas thought you were doing well enough get some game time. It was really scary for you to move up and it showed considering you weren't really a shy person but for some reason ever since joining the team you had sunk back into your shell but meeting, playing and training with your idols does that to a girl. The people you were playing with now were professionals and some of them a decade older than you which means you had to start taking it seriously which meant no time for mucking around. You didn't know anyone aswell which made the transfer from academy soccer to professional soccer so much harder for you knowing you were leaving behind some of the girls you had climbed the ranks with at the academy and though they said they were excited for you you couldn't help but feel left out in this new team.

Someone who you had taken a liking to was Alessia Russo who had just transferred from Manchester United around the time you made your move up and through you didn't know her well you thought she was a calming presence and always seemed to help when you were feeling anxious even if she didn't know it, just her presence made you feel safe and relaxed. Due to this you often found yourself sitting at the same table as Alessia for lunch though you made sure to not be directly next to her so she didn't think you were following her or trying to force something on her but you sat close enough that you could feel the calm aura she brought. You also stood near her in the line for drills as she encouraged you when you completed them while also giving you little bits of feedback for you to improve on. When it came to game days you often walked out with her and Kyra as you had become a bit close with the younger Australian who had also transferred around the time you came up and often used her as an excuse to walk with Alessia as she calmed you before a match. You understood why Kyra walked out with her now.

The team had started to notice your liking of being around the striker and some of them like Katie, Kyra and Beth had started calling you her shadow. That made you back off, scared you had overstepped the boundaries and that Alessia might think you were weird. Alessia however liked having you around and she found the fact you liked being around her but not making it painfully obvious and she would be glad to take you under her wing as an upcoming striker.

"Hey less" Katie called out across the training pitch and alexia turned to her "where's your little shadow gone?" she asked and alessia furrowed her eyebrows. You had been more distant with alessia in hopes of not coming across to the girls as clingy or obsessive but alessia genuinely didn’t mind and enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed hers but she had never had to go to you to get that as you always came to her so she hadn’t expressed that she liked being around you and mentoring you.

“I don’t know she’s been a bit closed off from me recently” alessia sighed and Katie gave her a sad look as Leah and Beth came over seeing alessia look a little down

“What’s up with you?” Beth asked as she made it next to the blonde striker and nudged her shoulder with hers

“Y/n” she sighed as the other players shared a look they had been waiting to have this conversation with alessia but you were always round her so it was hard for them to do it without upsetting you. They had to make sure alessia was ok with you constantly following her and wanting to be around her and by alessia reaction it seemed she did as she looked genuinely heartbroken you hadn’t come near her today

“It’s ok less I think the comments people were making scared her a bit because she realised she wasn’t as sneaky as she thought she was” Leah said comfortingly as she placed a hand on alessias shoulder

“yeah sorry about all the comments I’ll tone it down” Katie said apologetically as alessia finally cracked a smile

A bit later during training everyone was instructed to get a partner and you were shocked to see that alessia had come up to you.

“Hey y/n/n can I be your partner?” She asked as you nodded shyly “cmon then” she said as she took your hand and led you further onto the field to get started. It felt like a weight was lifted off of you and you were no longer suffering the feeling that you had been to much to fast for alessia as she now initiated coming close to you which proved she actually did like being around you. Everyone noticed the big smile on your face throughout training and couldn’t help but smile too knowing the kid of the team had found her mother figure and that now nothing would separate the two of you unless it was Kyra forcing her way into alessias and your personal space for the pitch inspection which you didn’t mind.

Once you’d finally found your footing in the team you started coming out of your shell and hanging around with Kyra more and alessia less considering you had moved in with the blonde and spent a lot of time together at home watching movies and shows. You and Kyra had gained the annoying little sister tag for your constant need to annoy your team mates and designated team mums aswell as pulling pranks to keep the girls on their toes but they wouldn’t have it any other way.

#alessia russo #woso imagine #woso #kyra cooney cross #woso fanfics #leah williamson #beth mead #katie mccabe #arsenal wfc #arsenal

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five-rivers · 2 months

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Season of the Skies

I started playing a game called Sky: Children of the Light recently, and although this isn't a crossover, it's definitely inspired by the vibes of that. It's a cute game!

Also, based on the feedback I got on AO3, there seems to be a significant overlap between the Phandom and Sky: Cotl players? Is that the case?

Reality had broken a month ago, and Danny was having the time of his life.

He leaped lightly from rooftop to treetop and back again, gravity a dreamy afterthought. The tiles and bark were rough beneath his bare feet, but not so rough he regretted not wearing shoes. His impacts shook loose pollen, glitter, and a few stray petals, but did the trees no harm. On the roofs he was silent, and no one came out to yell at him, but the window glass chimed with flashes of light.

The colors around him were bright and soft. Easy to look at, easy to fall into. The sky above was marbled with dawn-colored clouds and stars caught among distant nebulae. Light and color were some of the first things to break, and Danny wasn't sorry to see light pollution go. Most Everything glowed, now, and stargazing would have been terrible if eyes still worked the same way.

At his next jump, this one taking him up a good ten feet, the feather-soft edge of the shawl he was wearing flared out behind him, brushing his arms. The shawl was huge on him. An old project of his great-grandmother's, it had been made with the typical Fenton girth in mind. Honestly, it fit him more like a cape than a shawl, but he liked it that way.

He landed safely and straightened the cape. His dad’s needlepoint hobby had been inherited from her, so the dark blue fabric was covered in fine embroidery, lace, and tiny glass beads in shades of clear, pale blue, and white. Great Grandma Fenton hadn't been into ghosts the same way the current Fentons were, but she'd been into something, so the patterns were strange. Icicles, snowflakes, stars, clouds, and trees competed with lightning, runes and sigils, and strange, spirit-like creatures.

“Hey!” shouted someone from the street below. “Hey, Fentwerp! What the hell do you think you're doing?”

Ah. Dash. Charming. Danny leaned over the edge of the roof. “What does it look like I'm doing?” he asked agreeably.

“Getting your dumb nerd self killed is what it looks like,” said Dash, glowering up at Danny, his face turning red.

There. See. That's what Danny didn't understand. No one else seemed willing to experiment with how the world was now. They were all operating under the old rules, or, worse, looking for ways to fix things, as if the new world wasn't better than the old.

Sure, it had been scary the first few days. The suddenness. The uncertainty. The way systems they had relied on for so long had stuttered or failed outright. Danny knew people had been hurt, that, in some places, they were still getting hurt. He had been one of those people, having been in the hospital when the change rippled through the world, a result of an equipment malfunction in his parents’ lab.

Maybe his opinion would be different if he was still getting hurt. But as it was… why would he ever want to go back to how things were? Why would he want to leave this world, where the colors were soft and bright, and the light sang? Why would he want to leave this world where the air itself seemed to bear him up? Where the possibilities seemed limitless?

There was so much more potential for good, with the world as it was than as it had been. So much less potential for harm. This was a more finished version of the world. All the rough edges were gone, and filled with wonder. He could feel it.

“Get down here!” demanded Dash, when Danny didn't respond.

“No,” said Danny.

“Get down here or else.”

“Or else what?” asked Danny, genuinely curious. Dash couldn't get up here. No one else could, as far as Danny knew. They hadn't taken the time to work out the new rules for gravity.

Dash clenched his hands into fists, then stooped to grab a fairly large rock. Danny, seeing no reason to just let Dash throw it at him, left.

“Hey!” shouted Dash. “Hey! Freakton! Get back here!”

Names like that were a lot less distressing when the people using them had no power to hurt you.

Danny continued on his path upwards, touching on higher and higher buildings. It was tough to get the proper amount of momentum to make some of his jumps, especially since he'd stopped to talk to Dash, but he managed to make all of them, and soon he was standing on top of the tallest building in Amity Park.

In the center of the roof was a small tree, a sapling. It hadn't been there the first time Danny had made it up here, and it had grown rapidly since then. Next time he came, it'd probably be taller than he was.

For now, though, Danny knelt to check the roots where they grew through a widening crack in the building's roof. He'd warned the people in the building (he had warned everyone in buildings that had suddenly found themselves with roof trees), but he hadn't heard that anyone had done anything about it, and the roof trees felt friendly to him, so he hadn't pushed the issue. From the descriptions and pictures Sam had given him, this one seemed healthy enough.

He pulled a bottle from his backpack and gave the tree a generous sprinkle. Then he stood up, gave the crown of leaves an affectionate ruffle, and made his way to the edge of the roof.

The city spread out in all directions below him, vibrant and changing. Towards the edges of town, some buildings had lifted off their foundations, becoming floating islands. Across the viridian, iridescent forest to the north, he could see blue-bright-gray flashes of Lake Eerie. Fentonworks was easily visible off to the west, silver dishes and spires chased with green halos. The parks bloomed with flowers both alien and familiar, vines trailing up into the air, trees growing explosively fast. A breeze from behind turned his attention south, and he saw high clouds letting down shimmering curtains of rain.

It wasn’t like Amity Park had been drab and horrible before, but why would anyone want to go back?

He looked away, back down at the street far below him. Steeling himself, he grasped the edges of the shawl, he spread his arms wide.

“Time to lift off,” he said, quietly. “T-minus ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two–” Where he would have said one, he instead inhaled deeply. Where he would have said zero, he jumped.

For a heart-stopping moment, he wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake, if he’d made an error in his calculations, if reality had chosen that moment to reassert itself and he was about to drop like a rock.

The moment passed quickly. He was flying. Or, at least, gliding.

He laughed, and flapped his ‘wings.’ The shawl snapped behind him and gave him a small amount of lift.

He was doing it. He was doing it.

And now that he was doing it, it felt as natural as breathing. All that planning, all those calculations, all that running, climbing, and jumping–

He could fly.

Oh, maybe it wasn’t as impressive as it would have been in the old world, where gravity was a cruel mistress. But it was still flight, unpowered, human flight, and no one he knew of had done this before.

He laughed, and banked to the side, flying in spirals. He wasn’t brave enough to try a loop, yet, but he would, eventually, when he learned more about this.

His spirals took him over the park, the school, the mall, even the Nasty Burger. But he was losing altitude, his arms were getting tired, and he knew that if he got too close to the ground, gravity would get him again. Not to the point of hurting him at all, but he didn’t want to land just anywhere after all this work.

He tipped his wings westward, and started gliding home, pumping his ‘wings’ as infrequently as he could get away with. He didn’t quite make it all the way back to his front door, but he got close, just a few houses down the street. He rubbed his shoulders. That was going to leave him sore. He’d have to work out and practice more if he wanted to fly any real distance. He'd also need a way to take off that didn’t involve climbing the tallest building in town.

The front door of Fentonworks slammed open, revealing a pale Jack and a furiously pink Maddie.

“Daniel James Fenton! What do you think you're doing?”

Danny looked down at his bare feet, then back up at his parents. “Walking?”

Maddie sucked a breath in between her teeth. “Inside,” she said

Danny hurried to obey, taking the steps up to the door two at a time and squeezing past her and Jack to get into the house. Maddie closed the door behind him.

“So, um,” said Danny, shuffling from foot to foot. “What, um. I thought you guys were going to be working all day today?”

“On the Ops Center,” said Jack. “Not in the la– Not downstairs.”

Danny made note of the near-slip but didn’t comment on it. He was already in trouble. He didn’t need to remind them that the lab didn’t exactly exist anymore and make their mood worse.

“Oh,” he said. “What were you–?”

“Never mind what we were doing. What were you doing? What were you thinking, jumping off a building like that? You could have died?”

“Or been seriously hurt!”

“But I wasn’t! I’m fine. I planned it all out, and it worked.”

“And it shouldn’t have!” shouted Jack and Maddie at the same time.

Danny blinked up at them. “What?”

Jack explained. “We’ve been tracking the changes to gravity, too, Danny. We’ve been measuring it, measuring all the changes, to see what those darn ghosts did.”

Danny held back a sigh. There still wasn’t any sign that ghosts had done this, or even that ghosts existed.

“Gravity might have changed a bit,” continued Jack, “but not enough to keep a human being airborne like that.”

“There are whole buildings floating,” said Danny. “I’m a lot smaller than a building.”

“The rules seem to be different for different masses, as well as different altitudes,” said Maddie, making a face.

“Yeah! It’s really exciting. We’re trying to measure the ectoplasm levels– It has to be related, but we haven’t been able to detect any yet– Those ghosts are tricky, son–”

“Well, yeah. But the rules are also different for things that are alive.”

“Really?” asked Jack, leaning close.

“Uh, yes? Otherwise I wouldn’t have done, um. That. I tested it.”

“You tested it? Did you write it down?”

Danny nodded, cautiously. Jack swept him off his feet. “Our boy has been doing science, Mads!”

“He’s been jumping off of buildings!”

“Putting his research to practical use!”

“He’s been jumping off buildings without being peer reviewed!”

“Oh, yeah, son, you should have had someone check your work.”

“You never get peer reviewed,” said Danny, scowling.

“That’s different,” said Maddie, quickly.

“If anyone else believed in ghosts, you’d be sure we would be!”

Hanging limp in Jack’s arms, Danny grumbled.

“Danny,” said Maddie.

“Yes?” he mumbled.

“No more testing theories without checking in with us first. Safety first. You should know this by now.”

Danny hunched his shoulders and tried not to think too hard about his scars. They weren’t very visible, and the doctors had said that they’d fade away, probably entirely, eventually, but they were still there now, if you knew where to look.

A month ago, reality had broken.

A few days before that, Danny had almost died. Lab accident. It turned out that his parents thought portals to other dimensions which may or may not exist needed a lot of electricity and chemicals to function. Danny had been curious. He’d wanted to explore, to investigate. He’d stepped on a loose wire that had led to a capacitor. He’d been horribly electrocuted, and then exposed to a chemical cocktail. Sam and Tucker, who had been in the lab with him, had called for an ambulance, and he’d been brought to the hospital.

At least, that’s what he was told, later. He hadn’t woken up until he’d been in the hospital for a few days. Of course, when he had woken up, he did so because a bunch of the medicines going into him had started to do weird things while reality restructured itself, and that had been… incredibly unpleasant. Everyone had been grateful that only a very few things - like whatever Danny had been on to take care of the chemicals he’d picked up in the lab - had acted like that.

Later, Jazz had told Danny that for a brief period of time between the accident and reality breaking, Jack and Maddie had sworn off ghost hunting. Presumably forever. But once the laws of physics, chemistry, and biology started to rebel and twist, they’d taken it back. Well, to be fair, apparently they didn’t take it back until the lab disappeared. And the Fenton Stockades.

Although, to be fair in the other direction, it was more a case of everyone’s basements disappearing and being replaced by weird misty caverns than ghosts specifically targeting his parents. It was a whole thing.

(Personally, Danny was glad to see them go, although it had sounded like Sam was mourning hers.)

“Danny,” said Maddie, “tell us that you understand.”

“I understand. I don’t test theories without you,” said Danny, grudgingly. “Not even about cool things like flying.”

Maddie scowled. Jack beamed.

“Great!” shouted Jack. He whirled Danny around again. “Let’s go see your data! Where is it?”

“Upstairs,” mumbled Danny. “I’ve got a notebook.”

“A notebook, Mads!”

Maddie sighed. “Alright, let’s see the notebook.”

#danny phantom #fic

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rubendiasthoughts · 6 months

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Hey 💕 I know I have been slacking, but truth be told I just haven't been feeling it lately. However I managed to write this thing over the recent days, I hope you will like this. Thank you to the person who sent me this idea ❤ Sending love 💕

Ps. I will try to answer to the little scenarios you guys have sent in later 💕

Ruben noticing that the reader has lost weight due to stress related to her job:

The last few days Ruben hasn't seen much of her. Two days ago she just came back from a trip that she had to take for her work. And now that she was here she was working long hours, doing overtime and once she got home she was so tired the only thing she could think about was going to bed and finally getting some sleep. And he didn't have the heart to weary her with any additional conversations, he would only tuck her in and press a soft kiss to her forehead before going to bed himself. He tried to make it as easy as possible for her around the house too, he would clean and cook, making sure she didn't have to burden her mind with any of that.

Every time he saw her come in through the doors, he couldn't help but feel his heart sink at the image of her, her eyelids heavy, no sign of a smile on her face. Last night, when she came back, made her way to the bedroom and started stripping herself out of her clothes in order to put on one of his shirts and get under the covers he got a chance to get a good look at her, in a way he haven't had the chance to in the last few days. His eyebrows furrowed in worry when his eyes traveled up and down her body. It seemed to him that she may have lost some weight. Maybe the change wasn't very visible for everyone else, but for him, who knew her body so well it was pretty clear and it made thoughts race through his head. However, when he saw the little smile that she gave him after making herself comfortable on the bed next to him he made a silent decision he should leave this conversation for tomorrow. In fact, she told him earlier she finally wouldn't have to do overtime and would get back home earlier, so he realised that would be better than starting this topic today, when she was already half asleep. Before turning the bedisde light off he only leaned over her and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, making her humm out in appreciation and he watched as the sleep overtook her.

The next day he decided to great her with a warm, yummy dinner ready on the table. When she came into the kitchen and saw him making the table, she couldn't help but curl her lips in a genuine smile. After so many days of hard work, there was nothing she wanted more than to spend a nice evening with her boyfriend. She came up to him, wrapping her arms around his torso, as he hugged her close to him.

"Hi baby, missed you" he murdered into her hair, before pressing a kiss to it. She returned the affectionate words to him, before looking up, waiting for him to lean down and press his lips to hers.

He pulled the chair out for her, making her giggle and he served the meal he prepared. She told him about her day, while they ate, his eyes we're glued to her, happy to see her enjoy the dinner he cooked for her. Nothing made him happier than taking care of her. And nothing made him feel worse than knowing that he was failing at it.

After finishing their meal they moved to the couch, leaving the dirty dishes in the sink, making quick promises to deal with them later. Ruben held her close to him, her head resting on his chest, as she focused on the movie that was playing on the TV screen. His stomach twisting from anxiety at the thought of the conversation he knew he had to start. Even though there was a part of him that was mad at her and even a bigger part that was angry at himself for not taking care of her properly, he knew he had to be careful with how he was going to bring it up. His nerves calmed a bit, as he pressed his lips to her temple, closing his eyes and inhaling the sweet scent of her perfumes that he loved so much.

"I want to talk to you about something" he mumbled against the side of her head in an attempt to catch her attention. She turned her head to the side, looking back at him with curiosity. A quiet humm left her lips, letting him know that she was listening to what he had to say.

"I've been worried about you, baby" he said, making her forrow her eyebrows in confusion. She freed herself from his arms in order to sit up straight and be able to turn around tand get a good look at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked seemingly clueless. In the back of her mind though, she had an idea what this could be about. She chewed on her lower lip in anticipation, waiting for what her boyfriend has to say.

"I just think you haven't been taking care of yourself properly, lately. You were stuck at work most of the time and have been overworking yourself and... I noticed you have been loosing weight recently, and I think it's important that you know it's not healthy for you." he rambled. "I only want to take care of you and always want the best for you that's why I feel like we need to have this conversation... " he stopped as he noticed tears welling up in her eyes, her lower lip pouted a bit.

"I know, I'm sorry" she whispered, trying her best to stop the tears from falling. Ruben extended his arms to her, pulling her into his chest, his hands roaming her back, trying to sooth her.

"Don't cry baby, it'll be okay. Tell me what's been going on, huh?" he mumbled into her hair.

"I've just been so stressed with work lately... And this new project has been so demanding, I just want to do my best with it and... I just couldn't really focus on anything but work." she sobbed into his shirt. "It's all just been so hard on me. I'm sorry." she couldn't help but feel guilty for making Ruben so worried about her.

"I know baby, it's okay." he comforted her. "We're gonna take care of this together, hmm? I'm gonna help you, sweet girl. Work is important, but you can't sacrifice yourself for it." he continued, earning a quiet nod from her. "You just have to promise me you will start eating properly now, okay?" he pressed another kiss to the top of her head.

"I promise" she whispered into the material of his shirt.

"That's my girl" he praised, causing a giggle to leave her lips. The sound of her laughter instantly lifting the heaviness that had been weighing on Ruben's heart. In his head he was already making notes, planning to text her everyday reminding her of her meals and to prepare food for her. He would do anything and everything to make sure his girl was alright.

#ruben dias #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #footballer x you #ruben dias blurb #ruben dias imagine #footballer blurb #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias angst #footballer x y/n #footballer fluff #footballer angst #footballer one shot #footballer fic #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias fic

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genericpuff · 5 months

Text

The Kiss Bet Episode 172 - Hot Pot and Venting About How I Want My 70 Cents Back

Okay, look, this isn't a post I was expecting to make today but it's something that just happened and I have to fucking talk about, so let me preface this with some context.

I had to buy coins recently and because I switched to using my iPad for reading comics on, I got a "new reader" type deal from Webtoons for a coin bundle that got me like 100 coins for $5; because technically it was a 'new account' as Webtoons operates their in-game currency model on apps, not on actual emails (meaning if you use the app on an Android phone and then switch to an Apple iOS device, they're technically two separate accounts which you sync the reading data between via the account info linked via the email, therefore they have two separate coin wallets).

So with more coins than I knew what to do with, I decided to start FastPassing The Kiss Bet again, which I had recently stopped FP'ing around the S3 mark, as it's recently devolved back into the "will they won't they" trope, but instead of between Sara-Lin and Joe, it's between Sara-Lin and Joe's younger brother (the "true endgame") Oliver.

Now I don't mind the ship in essence. Joe was definitely not gonna be endgame, it was always gonna be Oliver, anyone who's read any amount of romance before - especially high school romances - knows how this shit tends to go, and The Kiss Bet isn't exactly trying to be groundbreaking or subversive in any way, it knows exactly what it's about and what it's trying to accomplish.

But it's almost become a little too good at this. Because in playing the "will they won't they" game for so long with a character that we know is endgame, it's basically been weeks and weeks and weeks of-

youtube

That said, after I caught up on the recent FP episodes, it seemed like stuff was finally moving a little bit. We were finally meeting Oliver's mom and his stepdad who he has a fractured relationship with, Joe was finally getting with his true endgame girl, Vicky (who's totally not an exact genderbent version of Joe lmao) and Sara-Lin was finally realizing she had feelings for Oliver.

And then the newest episode came out, Episode 172 - Hot Pot and Venting.

CAUTION: FASTPASS SPOILERS FOR THE KISS BET OFFICIALLY BEGIN HERE!

Already I was a little petty over the title like "lmao ok clunky title but whatever". I swept it off as not a genuine criticism, just me being a nitpicking asshole over what's essentially Fluff: The Comic.

The episode cost 7 coins, which is about roughly 70 cents, albeit closer to a dollar for Canadian readers (here's something they don't tell you about Canada - our Monopoly game currency is just as fucked as it looks) and that's where I'm gonna get into my second disclaimer that I need to be perfectly clear about (and it'll be what we get more into later on in this post).

I understand the principle of paying for art. I understand fully that many of these webtoons are being produced on tight deadlines by creators who often can only afford 1-2 assistants, if any at all. I understand and fully agree that creators deserve to be paid for their skills, time, and efforts, not just as creators working on the hellsite that is Webtoons, but as artists in general who deserve to make a living the same as anyone else. Anyone who follows my stuff here knows I'm an artist myself so I would never debate the ethical necessity of paying artists for their work.

However.

I can say that, and also agree with the people who have stated in discussion circles such as on /r/webtoons that a lot of the comics that have started charging 7 coins have been suspiciously delivering less comic since. And it's not even so much in the literal panel count, the liquid volume of these comics have remained the same, but the calorie count has dropped significantly. Food metaphors aside, what I mean is that despite many of these comics maintaining their 40-60 minimum panel count requirement, they have in fact reduced the actual amount of content that happens in them, and The Kiss Bet's newest episode is a stark example of what I mean.

I am going to start by posting only post three panels - three panels that literally sum up the entirety of Episode 172 and what it chooses to spend its time on.

That is it. That is literally all that's established in this episode. I'd tell you to go read it yourself, but honestly, this is genuinely one of those rare times I can honestly say that a 40+ panel episode is not worth 70 cents and you'd be better off, and that's saying a LOT when these episodes are only priced at the cost of a gumball. At least Lore Olympus has entertainment in how bad it is most of the time, Episode 172 of The Kiss Bet is just nothing. You will literally get more substance and flavor from an actual gumball.

Literally every other panel in this episode is either repeating the same dialogue (Sara-Lin saying the same thing multiple different times to express how Oliver is holding her hand or how his stepdad is a dick) and then Sara-Lin and Oliver staring at each other. Over. And over. Again.

I am not joking. I did not cut anything out in that sequence. That is where the episode ends. Complete nothingburger, seemingly cut off right as it was just getting started like Cait Corrain's career.

Out of the entire episode, there were 45 panels. So I can safely assume Ingrid's minimum panel requirement is at least 40 per episode, that's me assuming the best that she didn't exactly meet her panel minimum at 45 panels on the dot.

Out of those 45 panels, there were:

Two actual unique backgrounds that weren't gradients or just a single piece of furniture

4 separate panels of Sara-Lin freaking out over Oliver holding her hand and wondering if he even noticed

10 panels of Sara-Lin staring at Oliver either dumbfounded or asking him to repeat himself (or apologizing over nothing)

5 panels of the characters saying nothing

11 panels of Sara-Lin repeating information in different ways that could have been accomplished in half that time

Two separate occasions of Oliver getting Sara's attention from off-panel, literally formatted the exact same way both times (and both followed by reaction panels of Sara-Lin staring at him dumbfounded)

Way too many panels of Sara-Lin blushing in response to Oliver being an asshole tbh like literally this guy's a douchebag, Joe may have been the "out of her league" love interest but at least he was nice and didn't treat Sara-Lin like someone who just bought a Husky as a "starter pet" ???

Again, I don't usually like being a dick about the coin costs, and I definitely don't like being a hypocrite in telling people they should pay artists for their work while simultaneously posting their paywalled content like this, but I think there does come a point where it feels more irresponsible for people to not be aware of what they're about to pay for and how little they're going to be getting. This episode is literally one of the best - and worst - examples of how far the romance genre has fallen on the platform - when it's not being overtaken and oversaturated by problematic series that romanticize abuse and sexual assault, it's being dragged to death with the most boring executions of tropes that everyone has seen before and is only exciting for anyone who's never read a book or watched a romance movie, period.

And here's the thing where I do approach a bit more "hot take" territory, but every time I see this argument come up about episodes not being worth the coin cost, I see others who rightfully argue that 70 cents isn't that much to pay for what you're getting - weekly episodes of work that are usually always delivered on time, with more panels than you would ever typically see in a free to read comic.

But here's where I take issue with that argument, as much as the principle of it is sound, it misses the overall point: readers are paying for entertainment first and foremost, so can anyone who's actually paying for regular refills on their app currency step away from this and truly call it "entertainment"? Nothing was gained. The comic had 45 panels to say something, anything, and managed to not even squeak out so much of a word. Even the silent moments have no substance, they just reiterate information that we already know.

Do we really need another panel of Sara-Lin blushing at Oliver? We've known for weeks now that she has a crush on him. Do we really need another panel of Oliver getting Sara-Lin's attention? What is this actually showing of their chemistry? What is being shown here that hasn't been shown numerous times - with and without dialogue - for weeks now? What does the comic have to show for itself after four seasons?

Another point of the "it's just 70 cents, don't be an asshole" argument that people seem to miss is it's not 70 cents. It's $1. Because if you want to buy a single episode of the Kiss Bet, you can't just pay for the individual episode in isolation, you have to pay for the coins first, and $1 is the absolute bare minimum you have to pay to get 10 coins, which will only pay for one episode of a 7 coin series - of which there are many now, basically any series that's 40 panels or more will cost 7 coins and, shocker, those are the series that WT will tend to promote most, you'll rarely see the 5 coins series in the banner ads, and that's not even getting into how there are more and more series cropping up that have 5+ episodes behind FP rather than the traditional three.

So if you're someone who's (almost definitely) keeping up with more than one series? You can't just pay the $1, you have to pay at least $5 for 50 coins, and that will NOT go far anymore or cut as evenly as it used to when just about every series is now 7 coins. Webtoons knows fully well what kind of game they're playing by making the new coin cost an uneven number while still offering increments of 5/10 in their coin bundles. They undoubtedly want you to be left with an uneven number so that you'll be easily lured into buying more coins so you don't 'waste' the uneven amount you have left that isn't enough to buy the episodes for the series you want to read. Obviously this is more speculation and not fact, but it's a common business model and with the series that have adopted the 7 coin count model (rather than starting off with 7 coins outright) such as The Kiss Bet and Lore Olympus, it's becoming abundantly clear that either the creators or the platform itself is encouraging these series to meet their panel minimums with as little content as possible in order to get more money out of readers who are barely even being drip fed actual entertainment and narrative progression, let alone spoon fed.

And then there's the waiting. The goddamn waiting. So many of these series guilty of siphoning their content off through a hose that they're deliberately standing on are designed intentionally with the most egregious cliffhangers in mind to keep their audience hooked so they'll undoubtedly FP next week. Do you know what that amount of waiting does to a comic? To its readers? First off, it artificially extends the actual pacing of the comic to make it feel longer than it is, when in reality, many of these plotlines are happening in a vacuum of very short bursts of time. Case in point, Lore Olympus is commonly confused for having a plotline that takes place over the course of months, when actually when laid end to end in order of cause and effect, many of its subplots - including the romance of Hades and Persephone - takes place over the course of days. This over-inflates the plotline's actual depth and, even worse so, it makes it harder for readers to keep up with information that's being delivered, as it often takes weeks for that information to actually go anywhere - so by the time it does, many readers have straight up forgotten about it.

It's absolutely not okay that so many of these kinds of series are normalizing literal slow burning for an audience who's paying to be entertained. It's not a "slow burn". It's just slow, and deliberately so. It's absolutely NOT FUN to follow a comic that does not go anywhere week after week. It's frustrating. And before long, it starts to feel like gambler's fallacy, where readers have to essentially gaslight themselves into paying into it more and more convinced that it has to pay off eventually, based on a promise that was never actually made, only assumed in good faith. And readers should not have to fill in the bulk of the content that isn't happening with their own imaginations, which is something that happens a LOT in these series that spend so much time on the characters just staring at each other and saying nothing. It's not 'plot' to just draw characters blushing and have your audience fill in the rest of it entirely on their own. This is certainly a technique in writing, but in the case of The Kiss Bet and other comics like it, it's much less of a valid technique and more just flat out manipulating your audience into falling so hard into the sunk cost fallacy trap that they don't notice they're being robbed blind by the plot that hasn't actually happened - and they've been paying for that financial and emotional robbery out of their own pockets and brains every step of the way.

Again, I do not care about the coin cost in and of itself, seventy cents IS still an incredibly cheap price for weekly updates of a series that has to put out so many panels each week. But as a reader and a customer, I should not be leaving these updates with less information than what I started with. And I'm someone who's incredibly old school by webcomic standards, there are comics that I follow that have updated 1-2 pages a week for over a decade that manage to do more with their limited pages than Lore Olympus and The Kiss Bet manage to do after entire hiatuses filled with pre-production time.

Why does this page of Alfie manage to move both the intrinsic plot of the titular character as well as the external plot that's going on around her in one page made up of 5 panels better than what The Kiss Bet can do in 45?

Why does this page of Tamberlane manage to convey more information about the world's lore and the people in it in a way that's emotionally driven and clearly affecting the characters without outright info-dumping than what Lore Olympus has managed to spit out onto its plate since S3 started over a year ago?

How does Tales from Alderwood manage to be more entertaining and convey more meaningful storytelling through its characters in a single page consisting of zero dialogue than what The Kiss Bet can convey in its silent panels of staring, blushing, and repetitive stuttering?

Why are the creators who are relying entirely on their own efforts, resources, and ability to generate income through community interaction and support putting out better work with less panels and on slower schedules for FREE than what we're seeing from professional creators on a professional publishing platform who are being paid to do this as their job?

There's this saying in the tattooing industry: good work isn't cheap and cheap work isn't good.

At this point, 70 cents is not a 'bargain' as many people like to argue in defense of the creators. And while I do want to have good faith in the creators who don't pull this shit, the creators who clearly go above and beyond to do what they do in the pursuit of storytelling and polishing their craft to be the best piece of work that it can be - the comics that are worth paying 70 cents and beyond for - are not the comics that Webtoons is promoting to people. The creators of the works that genuinely deserve more than 70 cents per update are being left to fend for themselves without support from the platform, while those that aren't worth the price of even a flavorless gumball are consistently winning the Wonka Golden Ticket lottery.

The cost of 70 cents is relative. For some works it's a genuine bargain. For others like the The Kiss Bet and Lore Olympus, 70 cents is not a "bargain", it's not a "good deal", it's exactly the value of what you're paying for - cheap work that isn't good.

#so yeah i'm done reading the kiss bet fr now #i figured if i had 100 more coins than i needed i may as well use them for something that i didn't need to start from scratch on #but i literally feel ripped off LMAO #webtoon critical #the kiss bet #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #Youtube

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

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AITA for implying my sister’s a transphobe?

For context: i’m a nonbinary girl and at the time had recently broken up with my trans girlfriend of a year. I also have very different political stances than my sister, which historically makes me very frustrated (she’s a liberal so very into making sure people have rights but never acknowledging the structural problems that cause minority hatred/prejudice).

So my sister and i were playing a videogame together and having a great and fun time. We were switching the game and there was an add for Hogwarts Legacy on her home screen, which we both saw. I genuinely don’t remember who commented on it first. Either i said something like “ugh, please don’t get that godawful game” or she said something like “oh i wanna get/play this game”. Knowing me it was probably the former. A throwaway comment for sure. Either way, that started a little argument between us.

More context: my sister and i both grew up as avid potterheads. I was even more obsessed with it than her, as a lonely middle schooler with no friends, harry potter was my favorite avenue of escapism and basically my main coping method. Which is why i was so devastated when, in 2020, i found out about all the terf shit jkr had been posting and supporting. It felt like losing a close friend, and so it’s a subject around which i have a lot of pain thinking/talking about. But my sister (cishet) usually thinks I’m overreacting. She doesn’t support jkr’s rhetoric but doesn’t think that supporting her or her work monetarily is a bad thing whatsoever. Mainly she believes it simply won’t make a difference to her bottom line.

Anywho, we were arguing about Hogwarts Legacy and how i think that she shouldn’t give jkr any money regardless of how closely she was involved with the production, since she’s getting profit from it regardless. Sister brings up that she’s seen trans people who want to buy and play the game, and that i’m not the authority on the issue. I tell her that the people saying that are not the majority of the community, and that maybe she should listen to the person who’s actually trans and sitting right next to her. She disagrees, and i say “then just don’t call yourself an ally”. I don’t quite remember what she said, but the argument didn’t last long after that.

We continued playing whatever videogame, and then i excused myself to have dinner. When i came back k stopped by her room to share a fun fact, and she confronted me about how much it hurt her that i said she wasn’t an ally. She told me that she had put in real work by taking an intersectionality class in college, and by attending trans rights protests — all of which i’ve never done (mostly because of mental health issues i won’t get into). She was crying and upset, and i told her i was sorry for having that conversation at a bad time, and for how i phrased my thoughts, but that i didn’t take back what i said about her not being an ally and to say i was would be lying. I didn’t say much more because i saw how upset she was and didn’t think that was a good time to argue about my opinions - so we decided to talk about it later when she was calmer.

I still haven’t started that conversation because i haven’t decided if what i said was unnecessary and made me an asshole, or if what i said was justified and she needed to hear it. It’s been a few months now and we’re both back in college and living hours away from each other in different countries.

So, tumblr, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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stirringwinds · 6 months

Note

While I feel that hws France is hard to portray I do wonder what headcanons you have for him. Care to tell a few that come to mind?

a lot of my headcanons of francis/françois are from the british imperial + sea/east asian perspective, so with that in mind, these are some thoughts i've had:

a. françois' strengths are that he can be very charming and good at putting people at ease. he is somebody, if you ran into him somewhere, just comes off as a really interesting person. he can talk for ages about his passion for philosophy, art, literature, science and cooking without it getting boring to the listener.

b. he can be a really good lover too and is that sort of person who considers it a point of pride to make his partners enjoy his company. the sort of person who will make dinner and probably also a good breakfast for you. but one of his flaws is that he can also be pretty self-centred at times, and sometimes he uses his charisma to get out of things or simply dodge issues in his personal relationships.

c. françois, much like arthur, is in the Bad Parent club vis a vis matthew in the 17—18th centuries. where they differ however, is i feel that arthur was controlling but more...present, whereas françois was more...dismissive. matthew would get letters from arthur instructing him to do this and that, which for matthew at least acknowledged him, whereas françois might just not even write to him much at all, especially after matthew came under arthur's control.

d. françois really clicked with alfred during the revolutionary war. it helped that alfred was punching arthur in the dick, but i think that françois for all his flaws, genuinely possesses a somewhat more idealistic streak (than say, arthur imo) so that gelled well with alfred spouting all kinds of enlightenment thoughts (especially since he was also reading french writers like Montesquieu).

e. françois and lien (vietnam) have a complicated (to say the least) relationship due to the history of french imperialism over vietnam; i see francis being much younger than her (she and yao are peers in age!), so lien fitted him very much into her prior experience as an older female nation being forced to deal with 'boys playing at being empires'. lien probably shot him in the face at least once during the first indochina war, that tried to re-establish colonial rule over vietnam in the 1950s. however, i do think they can talk more cordially in more recent decades, with normalisation of ties. cooking is perhaps one topic that is a common interest—vietnamese banh mi is a kind of sandwich originating from french baguettes that incorporates local ingredients, and it's a really tasty and popular streetfood. there's also a big french-vietnamese population in paris today.

f. kiku was absolutely not impressed by monet's la japonaise, nor 'madame chrysanthème', the wildly racist and orientalist mess that Madame Butterfly was based on. it was exoticising, not flattering to him—he was however, more amenable to those of françois' artists that incorporated japanese artistic techniques in more genuine ways, or with françois' own view of aesthetics and his knowledge and interest in engineering.

g. yao, much like kiku later, was someone françois was very interested in culturally—as seen from the boom in chinoiserie when trade with china began back in the 17th century. i think french is probably one of the first european languages yao learns (besides portuguese). it's a fairly functional trading relationship—until of course, french imperialist interests began expanding in yao's sphere of influence and the opium wars.

h. i'm a fruk fan so naturally i think his love-hate relationship with arthur is one of his most significant r/ships—arthur has been a neighbour, friend, enemy, lover and everything in between. but! scotfra is another very, very long-term relationship important to him (auld alliance!). also on an EU level well, there's him and ludwig too.

i. naturally, he's also fairly fashionable, and i feel like he'll always eye himself critically even if he's going out casually, compared to way i can see arthur being fairly chill about strolling out in that questionable, ill-fitting acid green christmas sweater alfred sent him as a joke once. i also think françois probably smokes a fair bit, compared to how arthur's gotten a kick in the arse to cut back after WWII. and nowadays, he'll often just be relaxing with a cigarette on the balcony of his apartment with a book, or enjoying a day out in one of his museums.

#hws france #hetalia #hws england #hws canada #hws vietnam #hws china #hws japan #hws scotland #hetalia headcanons

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getosugurusbangs · 5 months

Text

as snow falls.

tags: some comedy, suguru being angsty, and a fluffy hurt/comfort (if you squint) ending. 2,757 words.

synopsis: satoru has been out on his first more serious solo mission, but as the days pass by, with no sign of him coming back home, suguru starts to get a little concerned. suguru decides to go to shoko, to find solace in her in these trying times.

a/n: so here’s my first genuine fanfic, and yes ofc it’s satosugu. suguru is anxious in this because i love projecting. also despite this being a stsg fic, there’s not a lot of satoru, mostly just suguru and shoko so… do with that what you will! also, this fic is implied to have taken place the christmas eve before hidden inventory arc.

☆

satoru had been gone for over a week at this point. everyone was told that it would be a slightly longer mission, but suguru hadn’t expected it to be this long. he really hadn’t noticed how dependent he’s been on satoru, until he left. they haven’t even been friends for that long, yet they were already attached at the hip. of course, shoko was still back at home with suguru, they were still good friends after all, but there wasn’t that same level of understanding there that the boys had with each other.

suguru had been busy studying all day. he felt the need to get work done, despite this being the one time of year he could comfortably take a break. early winter was never a particularly stressful time of year for him, but this time he’s ended up with other problems. he had gone ahead and made sure his parents were asleep before layering on a nice coat he had bought recently, going ahead and putting his boots on too. before he left the house, he made sure to grab a scarf to put on. it faintly smelled like satoru. that bothered him.

walking along the barely illuminated streets, a thin layer of snow and ice crunched under suguru’s feet. he’d never disliked winter necessarily, but snow had never been his thing. he always preferred staying in the warm indoors until someone dragged him out to either play in the snow, or shovel it.

he turned the corner, and finally saw his destination. suguru walked up to a particularly dull house. almost standing on the doorstep, he debated whether he should actually knock on the door or not. suguru thought to himself— “her family members are probably asleep at this point.. it’s pretty late, so… “ he decided to knock on shoko’s window, giving a smile and wave at her as she peeled the curtain from the glass.

she opened the window. “who died?” shoko remarked, with a chuckle. but suguru just rolled his eyes at her. “looks like someone can’t take a joke..” she scoffed. “but why are you here, geto?” “just wanted to talk. get some fresh air.” he craned his head a little, trying to peer into shoko’s room. but all suguru got from it was some curtains getting shoved into his face. “i’ll go on a walk, i just need warmer clothes.” she confirmed, scampering off to somewhere in her house.

shoko climbed out of her bedroom window, now wearing some shoes, leggings layered under her nightgown, and an oversized coat. suguru stood up from the bench in front of her house, looking shoko up and down. “did you steal that from your dad or something? i’ve never seen you wear that.” all she did in response was shush him, and shut the window. “it was the first genuine coat i could find, okay?” she said, amidst both her, and suguru’s laughter.

“so where are we heading to?” shoko asked, zipping her coat up all the way, so it would cover the lower portion of her face. “i didn’t really have any place in particular i wanted to go. probably just walk through the city for a little bit, then we split up and go back home.” suguru responded as they started to walk down the street, going back in the direction he came from.

“how’s your family doing, shoko?” “same old, you know how they are.” she said, with a solemn tone. “i get it, mine are a similar way. it’s why i don’t talk about them much. they try to be supportive and all, but just get in my way.” while talking, he was looking around at the unfamiliar neighborhood. “was there a specific reason you wanted to talk to me, geto?” she looked over at him, to make eye contact. suguru fidgeted with something in his pocket, uncomfortably. he, for some reason, wasn’t expecting to be asked this question. it felt like a million thoughts rang through his head at once.

“should i be honest?” was at the top of his mind. he figured shoko would end up seeing through him eventually, one way or another.

“…i miss satoru. a lot.”

“…that’s it?” she inquired, with a blank tone. “what do you mean that’s it?!?” suguru was being sent into a state of shock. “everyone can tell. it’s kinda uncomfortable to watch.” shoko continued— “any time gojo gets brought up nowadays, you end up being visibly upset.” “but what if-“ suguru tried to chime in, but she just shut him down. “he’s fine. you, of all of us, should know that best. don’t get me wrong, i find him having been gone for so long a little troublesome too, but you seriously need to relax about it.” suguru was calming down a little bit upon hearing her words. “…i just don’t think he should’ve been sent alone on a mission like that.”

“listen, i feel the same. but yaga did say how he’s perfectly well equipped for it. it’s not like it’s a super dangerous mission. otherwise you, or one of our seniors would’ve been sent too. i think we should just be patient, and trust in yaga’s judgement.” when she finished, suguru sighed. he couldn’t argue with her over this, suguru knew she was right, despite how he may feel about things, and about satoru.

“speaking of you and gojo,” shoko started. suguru felt his heart sink into his stomach, waiting for what she was about to say next. “you two have formed quite the bond, huh?” she asked smugly, playfully elbowing him in the side. suguru’s cheeks were already flushed from the frigid, late december air, but upon hearing her teasing, his entire face had turned bright red. he tried to turn away from shoko, to hide his embarrassment. wait, why did suguru find this so embarrassing?

“do you have a thing for gojo or something?” shoko asked, through some laughter. ‘twas no laughing matter for suguru, though. “don’t you fucking dare tell anyone.” he said, through gritted teeth. “are you serious?!” she was already chuckling, but at this point she was crying laughing. “i didn’t haah think you’d actually admit it…” suguru was shaking. the best way to describe him in this moment was: mortified. “just… don’t tell anyone. i don’t want that idiot to find out, and have everything we’ve already got get ruined.”

shoko’s laughter had finally settled down. “i mean, i won’t, for your sake, but you really think him learning that would ruin everything? i think he would just laugh it off and keep borderline acting like your boyfriend.” suguru listened intently, but didn’t say anything. his gaze was fixed on the ground in front of him. he kicked a rock that he was about to step on. they were headed into an empty park, where most of the trees were adorned with sparkling white lights. treading along a paved pathway, suguru finally said something again. “you doing anything for christmas? it’s only… tomorrow now, i guess.” he continued— “i left the house at about 11pm, it’s probably about midnight now.”

“i don’t know, i’ll probably just be at home, doing whatever. you?” shoko was occupied by looking at the christmas lights illuminating the park around them. suguru sighed, speaking in a reluctant voice. “i wanted to do something with satoru, but…” he trailed off. shoko noted how she shouldn’t ask him about his affection any more than she already had.

“you got a light?” shoko asked, shifting her focus back onto the miserable boy next to her. “should we really be smoking here?” suguru asked, as he reached his hand into his pocket, pulling out cigarettes and a lighter regardless. shoko snickered, “there’s no one around us anyways. maybe a smoke will help you relax.” she teased him. “whatever…” he mumbled before taking a long drag. they both knew they shouldn’t be smoking, both for their health and because they weren’t really supposed to in general. but being a jujutsu sorcerer is a dangerous feat. they were smart enough to know cigarettes wouldn’t be the death of them.

“we need to go shopping together sometime soon,” shoko chimed in. “i still need to get some new winter clothes before the weather gets too bad.” he stared at her, sort of dumbfounded. “…is this not already bad enough for you?” suguru was still shaking, though now it was just the cold, not his nerves. “eh, it could always be worse.” she shrugged. it had been snowing off and on all day, but had started to pick up more after dark.

suguru only left his house once the snow had died down again. he wanted to avoid getting snowed on the best he could. they decided to go ahead and sit on a park bench for a moment, though, only after brushing the layer of snow off the seat. “did you hear there’s gonna be some new students transferring in soon?” suguru asked, taking in their surroundings. “yeah, mei mei told me about that. i guess they probably won’t be showing up over the holidays, though..”

“i wonder if gojo might be bringing back some souvenirs… since he was traveling a decent ways out for this mission.” when either of them spoke, they kept their voices down a lot more than they normally would’ve. it felt wrong to mess with the state of the night’s comfortable silence, no matter how many things either of them might have wanted to bring up. they just quietly sat in each other’s presence for a couple minutes.

shoko finally broke the silence that had developed. “i think i’m probably gonna be hanging out with utahime later.” she took a drag from her cigarette. “she was pretty adamant about hanging out sometime this week.” “doesn’t she want you to quit smoking?” suguru asked, swearing he heard utahime bring that up recently. shoko got quiet for a moment, looking up at the deep, cloudy midnight sky. “i’ll think about it.” was all she could say.

after a couple more moments, they decided to go ahead and resume their walk. suguru was trying to think of something else to talk about. “oh, i got this new cd the other day, it’s one of my favorite bands’ new album. i need to show it to you soon.” shoko took her cigarette out of her mouth. “oh yeah? was it that band you talk about that has those, like.. deep, poetic, introspective lyrics?” suguru had to fight back the urge to explain the band and their lyrics more than he already had. “at least she remembered them.” he thought to himself, just nodding at her politely.

they had walked into a more open, urban area. “you should probably go ahead and make the trip back home now, huh?” suguru had stopped walking, turning to properly face shoko now. he put out his cigarette, going ahead and tossing it. “yeah, i was thinking the same.” she turned back to the direction they came. hesitating for a moment, she spoke up one last time. “geto. he’ll be back soon, okay? he’s strong, you know… “

“see you later.” shoko waved him goodbye, before heading on her way.

suguru felt tears well up in his eyes. as they streamed down his face, he didn’t even really know why he was crying. he felt stupid crying about satoru, especially out in the open like this. “god, this is embarrassing.. at least barely anyone is around at this point…” suguru thought to himself. it wasn’t a particularly lively night. he was sort of lucky, in this regard.

he started to walk back home. it felt ironic to him, how this was such a beautiful night, considering the snow and scenery, and yet it was wasted because of his overbearing emotions. suguru couldn’t even remember when the last time he cried was. “why did this have to happen now?” he pulled his scarf up to cover most of his face, both to break the wind, and to hide his current state.

navigating the icy, desolate streets, suguru finally had stumbled upon some more familiar sights. it’s not like he had gotten lost or anything, he just was heading back home on an unfamiliar route. passing by a cafe he likes, he wondered what he might end up ordering next time. suguru might’ve considered going in and getting something, but he wanted to get back home as soon as possible. and besides, they had been closed for hours at that point.

as he continued walking, snow had begun to gently fall onto the landscape surrounding him. because of that, suguru felt the urge to get home grow stronger. he started finally closing in upon his neighborhood. despite having lived in this area for years now, he still didn’t really know his neighbors that well. he just judged his neighbors from their houses, and the very brief interactions he might’ve had with them. there were people in the area he was more interested in chatting with, as opposed to the old couple next door.

once suguru finally got to his street, he walked with his head down, trying not to get any snow in his face, more specifically in his eyes. he just wanted to get back inside, and not be borderline freezing to death anymore. “maybe i should take a hot bath when i get back… or should i just get straight in bed?” the harder he thought about it, the worse the snow falling onto him felt.

as suguru walked up to his house, a wave of relief washed over him. he was about to reach into his pocket to grab his key, when he looked up at satoru sitting on his doorstep, and was stunned. satoru stood up, with open arms. suguru ran towards him, tackling him into a hug. he could already feel tears streaming down his face again, despite how he had just cried a couple moments ago.

suguru had planted his face into the crook of satoru’s neck. everything rude and brash he had wanted to yell at satoru when he got back, just melted away in his arms. “you’re back…” was all suguru said as he cried onto satoru’s shoulder. “of course i’m back. i’m sorry for making you wait so long..” he ran his fingers gently through suguru’s hair, his other arm wrapped around him.

suguru pulled away from him, looking at satoru with his glossy eyes. “i missed you… you don’t know how worried i was for you.” suguru admitted, playfully shoving satoru’s shoulder. they just laughed. “why would you have to be worried for me? i mean, you know how strong i am!” “that’s what shoko said…” “oh? you talked to shoko about me? what did you talk about??” satoru prodded at him, with a giddy tone. suguru didn’t respond. he just looked away in embarrassment.

“but, in all seriousness…” he guided suguru to face him. “i missed you too.” satoru whispered into his ear, giving him a tender kiss on the cheek. if suguru wasn’t warmed up by being held in satoru’s arms, he was definitely heated up now. he stared back at the smiley boy in shock, due to the expressing of his newfound affection. i mean, satoru had always been clingy and affectionate in the past, but this was very different. he welcomed the gesture with open arms, he was just a little taken aback.

“hey, isn’t that my scarf? i was looking for that!” satoru gently tugged on the scarf suguru was wearing. “what? i thought it was mine.” “no, i bought it for myself.” “well, it was right there with my coat. if i thought it was yours, i would’ve gotten my own.” “yeah… you’re gonna have to get your own.” satoru settled things, bluntly. “i don’t know why i thought you might be a gentleman about things this time.” suguru rolled his eyes.

“oh, and suguru, do you mind if i stay at your place for the night? i had to take the train back home, and… well, it’s cold and snowy and your house is closer to the station…” suguru just stared at him, dumbfounded at the switch-up in satoru’s behavior during this reunion. “…yeah, i guess you can stay here for the night. if you’re sooo delicate, to the point where you can’t make the loooong trek back home.” “hey! i’m tired, okay?!”

suguru started to love the snow. even if he only did for that one night.

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nerdieforpedro · 15 days

Text

We have two Wavelengths

Din Dajrin x plus size female reader

This blog overall is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2k

Summary: You and Din have grown closer since you’ve joined the Razor Crest. A trip to his coven is rather informative and inspires some new thoughts.

Warnings: Two nervous people, maybe a sort of interrogation, we're still all about the hands, actual good advice?, forehead bumps are scandalous!, so are dreams at times, Nerdie is not serious with these tags

Notes: Paz Vizla and The Armorer make an appearance! ☺️ Are they helpful? Maybe. We’ll see.

Main Masterlist/ Din Djarin Masterlist/ Our Journey Across The Star Ocean Series

He told me to call him Din six months ago. Things changed then. For one, I finally knew his name. It’s…fun to say. I’m not sure what that means, I don’t think I say in a weird way, it’s just after calling him ‘Mando’ for so long it’s so good to know his actual name. We’ve been holding hands when sitting in the cockpit together, often without his gloves on. I’m not exactly sure how important that is, but it holds some significance given he’s normally covered head to toe. Even when we make stops to refuel or for different jobs, Din normally has a hand gloved or not on me somewhere. I thought I would be a lot more nervous about the more public display, but I enjoy it. I wonder how I can show him how I feel too, wait how do I feel?

I mean he did buy me a new work apron (I couldn’t stitch my old one back together. The different patches were coming apart.) and a sort of vest he said to wear when we’re going after bounties. He came back with it a month after we visited ‘The Armorer.’ The name sounds ominous, but she was very kind and had a booming laugh. I feel like if there was ever a time I could picture Din’s helmet turning red with embarrassment, it was when she asked him if I was his ‘riduur (wife/partner).’ That’s clearly something else important because he looked at me while answering and said, “we haven’t discussed anything about that yet. She has equal say in it.” Maybe it means like a full partner in bounty hunting endeavors or something. The way she chuckled makes me think she was teasing him a bit. I thought his body language would only be that stiff around Peli. But he eventually loosened back up in calling me over to shake hands with her. Grogu knows The Armorer well as he jumped in her arms and patted her golden helmet. She planned to take measurements of me and told Din to go check in with someone named Paz. He didn’t seem enthused about this at all but did as she asked.

“You know his true name I assume. This denotes a high level of trust in you.” Walking around me, her head tilted back and forth. “You have been traveling with him for a little under a year, yes?” I nodded to her question and held my arms out as she took a measuring tape off the wall of her forge. “You know not what is under his armor, correct?”

“He’s never removed his helmet in front of me. He would never do that.” It’s a slight sting when I say it, but it’s one of the essential tenets of his creed so even if I’d love if he did, I’d never ask him to do something like that. I feel her touch the blaster on my hip before going to scribble something down and returning to take more measurements.

“Djarin gave you this did he not? Has he given you anything else?” The Armorer sounds genuinely curious with this question. I nodded and told her about my new work apron he recently got for me and a dark green scarf to tie my hair back when I’m out and about. But Grogu normally plays with it and likes to sleep with it sometimes, so I have a yellow one he got me as well as a backup. She’s stroking the bottom of her helmet where I assume her chin might be. “I shall create something for you. You are welcome back here anytime. I will let Djarin know of this as well. Oh! Take this.” She hands me a retractable knife that looks just like Din’s armor. I know what material that is.

“Ma’am this is beskar. I’m not…I can’t take this. It’s only for Mandalorians right?” I’m starting to wonder if she’s testing me, like would you accept something you know you’re not supposed to have just because Din was cool with bringing you here? Hmm? Her laugh fills all the space in her forge, and she claps her hand on my shoulder.

“Consider it a welcome gift my dear. The fact that you’re here already means you have been accepted. Not quite the same as us given our different ways, but I can tell you mean no ill will. Most critical - you respect and care for him and his foundling deeply. If you did not, you’d have met my hammer swiftly.” I feel equal parts relieved and frightened. Din returns with a towering Mandalorian in navy blue beskar. The armor varies greatly, and I wonder if the colors are just personal preference or have other meanings. The navy-blue armor nods in my direction and leaves back down the hallway. The Armorer whispers one more thing to me before picking up Grogu who’s been playing with a dome on the ground. It could be a shield, or shoulder pad? No, the right name for it was…pauldron! “When you get back to the ship and before you rest for your next journey, tap your forehead to the top of Djarin’s helmet. You’ll be wishing him to get you all to your destination safely.” I could hear the smile as she instructed me, and she’s gone to meet Din near a wall of weapons he’s looking through. I feel like that holds significance as well, but again I don’t know what. I’m going to need to add all these to the notes I’ve been keeping about Mandalorian culture.

My vest the Armorer made me had a small gold wrench symbol over the left chest where the entirety of the armor was silver like Din’s. It’s so beautiful but heavy so I needed help putting it on and taking it off for a while until I got more used to it. Din still offered to help me put it on sometimes, so I let him, it’s also another time he doesn’t wear his gloves so I feel his hands on my shoulders and arms.

I did as The Armorer told me that day when we got back to the ship. Grogu was in his bassinet near my cot. I told Din to get some rest himself and held his hand like I normally do before I leave. This time, I closed my eyes and leaned down to touch my forehead to his cool beskar. I lingered for a few extra seconds and didn’t realize that I had placed my other hand on his breastplate. “Good night Din. Don’t forget to rest too. You’re going to show me some of the basic controls one of these days so you can sleep too.” I bid him goodnight and went off to sleep, recalling his humming. He normally does that when he’s pleased so it was worth feeling a little silly.

Maker I think I’ve done a bit too much. Not that I didn’t want to, I actually want to do more. I’d like to give her the same type of hug Grogu does after one of his naps, snuggled up against her. But I can’t, well I could, but I might set off all the sensors in my armor if I do that. Things have been going smoothly. Her work apron had seen much better days so I got her a new one that’s much more durable and of better quality. This combined with the blaster and two scarves is quite a bit, I’ve pretty much proposed. I’m investing in her, she’s my…well partner for now. We’ve been together nearly a year, that’s enough time. I’ve seen outside of Mandalorian culture I’m supposed to get a ring for her. Figuring the size will be easy. I’ve decided to take her with me on my next delivery of beskar to the coven.

Every other time, I hate Paz. With the burning passion of The Armorer’s forge when she melts down the beskar I bring, but on this single matter. The mir’sheb (smartass) is right. I told him how our interactions had been so far, exchanges and the like.

“Sounds like you haven’t really told her anything and have just been giving her stuff without context dumbass. She’s not one of us, how is she supposed to know?” I hate that this nerf herder is correct. I need to have an actual conversation with her about everything. “Has she seen your face Din? You aren’t so far gone that you forgot that, did you?”

“No she has not. She respects the creed. She’s never asked me to do anything to dishonor it.” I had gone with Paz to visit some members of the coven whom I hadn’t seen for a while. We weren’t particularly close, but it’s always best to say hello at least. I’m not sure what conversation The Armorer would have wanted to have with her, but it shouldn’t be bad. I think.

“It sounds like you’ve found someone you should keep by your side then. Just talk to the woman. If she’s stuck around you this long, it’s in your favor that she’s not going anywhere. Since you already gave her one weapon, you can give another one that suits her along with one of those rings you see those basic humans wear.” Paz snorts and Din hits him on his shoulder. “Calm down Djarin. I didn’t say she was basic. I was referring to non-Mandalorians. You’ve always been so sensitive.” Rounds around the coven went quickly and we were back in the forge where it seemed they had been discussing something important. After getting a new weapon from The Armorer and her telling me to stop back by in a month, we left. I’d already had her hand in mine on our way out. They should know here too that she’s with me. That’s what the ring would be for, wouldn’t it? We picked up some more supplies and headed for the ship.

Grogu took some rounds of ‘hide the shiny ball’ to settle down to sleep. I was able to sit with cyar’ika (beloved) without interruption. I told her about checking in at the covent and expressed that I’d like her to walk around with me the next time we have beskar to drop off. She expressed that she would and I placed my hand on her knee. A bit forward on my part, but she placed her hand over mine and stood up. I thought she was going to tell me about what her and The Armorer discussed but she told me to get more rest. She’s normally telling me that. I’m used to functioning on less sleep, but I’ve trained myself to wake when I hear odd noises. Until I got used to Grogu’s sounds, I didn’t sleep much the first few months I had him.

I should have pulled her close and held her. I’m not sure if she knows what the touching of foreheads really means in Mandalorian culture, but she wished me to get some sleep and said something about the controls before she left. In the minute (or maybe longer), she held her forehead to the area above my T-visor. One of her hands is in mine and the other is on my chest. This new level of closeness - I’m not going to let it go. I’m finding I'm so greedy when it comes to her, in a way that I haven’t been, even with the care I provide to my foundling Grogu. I’m humming with glee, at least I think that’s my armor. It could be me, I’ll do diagnostics later.

The dream I have later that night when I fold my arms and wrap my cape around myself to doze off.

She’s given me another forehead bump, but I’m bold this time and put my arms around her wide hips, pulling her close to press my T-visor into her soft stomach, easing her to sit on my lap. Just having her lean against me, now her cheek pressed against the side of my helmet. I call her cyar’ika while she calls me Din. I hear her say it repeatedly, while I place my hand on her thigh, keeping her in place.

If she does it again, I’ll definitely pull my mesh’la (beautiful) close like in my dream. We’ll figure out the communication later, I just want to dream right now.

Part Two Part Four

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@sherala007 @yorksgirl @daddy-dins-girl @604to647 @megamindsecretlair

@anoverwhelmingdin @theincredibleinkspitter @alltheglitterandtheroar @mrsmando @drawingdroid

@harriedandharassed @i-own-loki @lady-bess @pedroshotwifey @thefrogdalorian

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @jessthebaker @connectioneverywhere @grogusmum

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #din djarin x plus size reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #Our Journey Across the Star Ocean

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newtthetranswriter · 6 months

Note

Mike schimt x reader but

as bodyguard!mike x shy!reader

I’m not the best at requesting things so I hope this helps

Word count: 2040

Paring: Mike Schmidt x Gn! Reader

Summary: After Freddy Fazbear’s, Mike takes a job as a local singer’s bodyguard.

A/n: Thank you for requesting, I enjoyed writing this for you. I hope this is what you were hoping for,but it’s the idea I got from seeing Bodyguard. Anyway keep requesting and have a good day. Just remember to Hydrate or Diedrate.

Shortly after the events that happened at Freddy Fazbear’s, Mike desperately needed a new job. Sure he could still keep an eye on the place but after all that happened to him and the fact that he almost lost Abby, he decided finding a different job was for the best. Luckily while looking for work he saw a job posting for a bodyguard position. It wasn’t the best job but the details were simple in it was keeping any eye on a local singer who had a somewhat of a large fan base, and had recently started receiving some unsettling messages and just wanted some extra protection. Upon considering it he figured why not as the chance of animatronics being the culprit was pretty slim, so he applied and waited for a response.

About a week later he received a call offering him the position and requesting he meet with his new boss at Sparky’s dinner. After taking Abby to school he went back home dressed in his best outfit and headed out to meet with the person he would now be protecting. When he entered the dinner and moved to the booth he was directed to by the nerd waiter, he was shocked to see a person wearing a beanie and sunglasses paired with a large coat covering their figure.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Y/n.” he said to the figure as they turned to him quickly and looked back at the table. They gave a small nod, motioning him to sit down with them. “So are you Y/n?” Mike received a nod in response. It didn’t take long to figure out that this person was extremely shy and it probably took a lot for them to have even agreed to hire a bodyguard, let alone become popular enough to need one. “Can I ask what it is you would like me to do as your bodyguard?”

Y/n nodded their head before seemingly realizing they would need to speak to this new person. “I just need you to come with me to my shows on the weekends and keep the creeps away. Nothing has happened yet, but I’d rather be safe. Plus some guy has been sending me mail that says some messed up shit, and I think that if I have someone with me when I go to shows he might stop.” They explained quietly. If Mike hadn’t spent so long with Abby who spoke rather quietly for a while he probably wouldn't have been able to understand what was said, but he understood.

“Not to sound ungrateful for the job, but why get a bodyguard instead of going to the police?” He asked genuinely confused, if some guy was making threats shouldn’t the police do something.

Y/n turned away and mumbled a response before looking at the confused man in front of them. “They won’t do anything. I’ve tried but because there is no proof they are real threats they say there’s nothing they can do.” They spoke a little louder this time.

Mike continued to ask questions about the job, and about Y/n. He learned quickly that they were the lead singer of a local cover band who played at clubs and stuff around. It seemed many people truly enjoyed their music and they apparently had a larger following on the internet as well. Mike also learned that Y/n was always pretty shy and it was their bandmates who pushed them to get a bodyguard. With some sound knowledge of his new job he bid his boss farewell, agreeing to meet them two hours before their next show that friday.

Friday came quicker than he thought it would. But as the time to meet with his boss came closer he realized he had no one to watch Abby while he was working. Everyone he tried was busy and he cursed himself for waiting until the last minute to find a babysitter for his sister. Running out of time he decided she would have to go with him and hopefully beagle to wait backstage during the show. “Abby come on grab your bag and a blanket, you’re coming to work with me tonight.” Mike shouted as he scrambled to find his keys.

The young girl quickly grabbed her backpack and blanket excited to see what fun job her brother had now. “What is your job now?” She asked as she got in the car.

“Just keeping someone safe while they sing for some people. While we are there, either color or sleep, don't go running around, I won't be able to watch you.” he said looking at Abby in the rearview mirror. Receiving a nod he smiled and then headed to the location he was meeting with Y/n at.

When they arrived they went around the back of the club to the employee entrance Mike had been told to go through. He texted Y/n, informing them that he was there and needed to be let in. After only a few minutes, he was greeted by a familiar face opening the door. Y/n greeted him and motioned for him to come inside quickly, noticing the young girl following behind.

“And who is this?” They questioned after greeting Mike. Y/n reached their hand out for Abby to shack.

Before Mike could respond Abby spoke up. “I’m Abby, my brother forgot to find a babysitter before today and didn’t want to leave me home alone.” She said, shaking the kind stranger's hand.

“Sorry about this, I hope it’s okay. I totally forgot to find a sitter and it wasn’t a good idea to leave her home, if it’s okay she can just sit in the back and draw or sleep, she won’t be a problem.” Mike went on explaining why he brought his sister to his first day on the job.

Y/n placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, I understand she can sit in the dressing room, I’ll have some of the kitchen staff bring in some food for her as well.” Y/n explained before guiding the pair to the fitting room.

After getting Abby settled in the dressing room, Mike sat and watched as Y/n and their band practiced, enjoying the music and completely amazed at how well the different genres of music flowed and worked together. The band played anything from My Chemical Romance to Bon Jovi, even some older country music. It wasn’t necessarily the kind of music you would think would fit a club but after rehearsal Y/n had explained that all kinds of people visited the club and over time requested most of the songs they played in their sets now, and so it evolved into this crazy mixture of music from every genre.

A few hours later Y/n’s band had finished their performance and decided to enjoy the rest of the night while a different group performed. Mike decided that since he noticed Y/n head to the bathroom he would quickly go in the back to check on Abby. When he got to the dressing room he saw Abby asleep on one of the chairs and headed back out to keep an eye on Y/n. Reaching the busy club he spotted Y/n trying to get a drink from the bar. Keyword there being trying, there was an older man who kept talking to them, completely ignoring the fact they were trying desperately to ignore him.

Seeing this as one of the things he was hired to help stop he approached the pair. “Excuse me Sir, but I’m gonna have to ask you to leave them alone. They're not interested and I would hate to cause a scene.” Hearing his voice Y/n moved to stand behind Mike.

The man that had been bugging Y/n turned to Mike. “And why do you think such a pretty thing isn’t interested in me? What are you their boytoy coming to protect them?” The man sneered at Mike. He then reached his hand out to grab Y/n’s arm. “I think we were having a pleasant chat.”

Spotting the hand reaching for Y/n, Mike quickly threw a powerful punch into the man’s face, receiving a resounding crack as his nose broke under the force. “They aren’t interested in you because you’re a creep. And I’m just here to keep creepy bags of trash from making them uncomfortable.” With that Mike quickly guided Y/n back to the dressing room apologizing for punching the guy even if he deserved it.

Once in the safety of the dressing room, Y/n couldn’t help but cry. “Thank you for stopping that guy, he just kept on insisting that he buy me a drink when all I was trying to do was get some water.” They said quietly, having noticed Abby asleep when they came in. Even though they had barely known Mike for a week they couldn’t help but to fall into his chest hugging him thanks.

Realizing how distressed Y/n was Mike made a decision. “How about you tell your bandmates that I’m gonna give you a ride home, that way you can get out of here and not deal with any more crazy people tonight.” He offered gently running a hand down their back in a comforting way.

Y/n nodded in agreement accepting the offer and then quickly texted their friends explaining what happened and that Mike would be taking them home. After that Mike gently woke Abby, grabbing her bag and blanket. He guided a half asleep Abby, and Y/n out to his car. He got Y/n’s address from them and proceeded to take them home before going home to sleep himself.

After a few months of working for Y/n, Mike grew closer to them and found himself hanging out with them even when it wasn’t for work. They had become great friends, and instances like the first night he worked for Y/n happened less and less. It also seemed their band’s fans ahad noticed him not only at the clubs they performed but the online fan base began to notice him in videos and were asking for answers. They all wanted to know who the guy always hanging around Y/n was and why he just suddenly appeared. Don’t even get them started on the theories, most of which were that Mike was Y/n’s boyfriend and they were trying to keep it quiet.

With the growing speculation, Y/n decided (more like the band told them) that they need to address this with their fans, and asked Mike to join them for a quick Youtube video. Mike met up with Y/n at their apartment, ready to address the concerns. After setting up the cameras Y/n had Mike wait out of shot before starting the video.

“S-sso we have seen your questions about the guy who can be seen near the stage in all of our videos over the past months, and have decided It’s time to tell you guys the truth. So without further ado this is Mike, My bodyguard.” Y/n motioned for Mike to sit next to them. He gave a small wave to the camera and a quiet hi. “He’s been working for me for a few months because someone was making threats and he’s been at all the shows to make sure nothing happens to me, and he has saved me from so many creeps in that time.” Y/n smiled. “And with the pressure from my Bandmates, and you guys of course I’ve decided to introduce him.”

They recorded for probably twenty more minutes answering some questions that had been asked over the past few months before signing off and sending the video to be edited. Deciding to not let the day go to waste, Mike Invited Y/n out for lunch and a movie. Maybe he started as just their bodyguard but he was slowly becoming more. If the fans were right about him being Y/n’s boyfriend was unclear right now but it was starting to look like that would soon change. Though they wouldn’t tell them that yet.

#fnaf movie x reader #fnaf x reader #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt #mike x reader #gn!reader

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perryavenue · 6 months

Text

rainjoy Has A New Post. It's Personal

rainjoy is one of my favorite Klaine fanfic authors. Their first Klaine fanfic was published on LiveJournal in 2011, their last in 2021. Health issues have become more intense over time. Their most famous works, All The Other Ghosts and Grey, were published in 2012 and 2013. So those who've joined the fandom fairly recently may not even know about their other fics, the most recent one being from 2021. rainjoy has written Klaine in every genre: high school!Klaine, college!Klaine, married!Klaine, supernatural!Klaine, fantasy!Klaine, and even superhero!Klaine.

Here is a link to rainjoy's works on Live Journal

Here's a link for Dreamwidth

I hope that you'll help boost it by re-blogging. Thanks in advance, @klaineccfanficlibrary and @todaydreambelieversfic

This is rainjoy's post from today (October 27, 2023).

"Hello, I’m still alive.

Hello, I do mean it, hello anybody around to see this, I really hope you’ve been well, I’m sorry I haven’t been around, I *haven’t* been well. But I have, over a course of fucking months, actually written something, so I’m writing *this* here so I don’t need to leave a novel-length author’s note on it, as some kind of explanation of where I’ve been.

Largely, I’ve been in bed, I’m likely going there again after posting this, they need to invent new words for how tired I am so much of the time, my upgraded wheelchair is worth about as much as my *laptop*, my life revolves around Can I? Probably not. and lots and lots and lots of ‘resting’. I’ve not been well, but please don’t worry, I’ve not been unhappy. This is the golden age of being ill, the sheer quantity of stuff out there to amuse the bedbound – I have books and podcasts, all of Netflix, I practically live on Sky: Children of the Light, when I’m too dopey even for that I have Animal Crossing, when I am genuinely such a puddle of not-human lethargy that all I need is for time to pass until I feel just slightly better again I have videos of other people playing video games on YouTube and I’m sorry my darling baby moths I will pick you up and help you every single time but it will never not be funny watching someone go through Eden for the first time on YouTube, it just never will not make me laugh, oh my gods I’m so *sorry* my loves <3

So anyway, there’s all that, that’s where I’ve been, life really does not work out the way you planned it to, huh? Because outside of my bed, I know I have messages and emails and someone got a tattoo?? You got a tattoo and I’m just really sorry I haven’t been in touch, my energy has to be paid out like a miser, if I want to wash my hair then wow the world is really not getting anything else out of me, you know? But I am still here, and I do still love the things I love. I still think all of it is worth it. I think the world is a *lot* of fun, though I bear in mind that still, and always, we live through very frightening and distressing times. Which actually makes me think we need to cling to the things we love *more*, not less, love makes better people of us, when we let it.

So I did watch the new season of Good Omens when it came out, and safe to say I was not impressed, but it did jog in me the memory that didn’t I write a sequel to it? Yes I did, and it involved *all* that blood. But I reread it – it’s like reading a stranger’s writing after so long – and that jogged the memory: Didn’t you start a sequel to *this*?

Yes I did! Two thirds written, actually, hurrah for my past self. The last third took, I don’t know, when did the new season come out, it took that long. I used to sneeze out this sort of thing. This, now, is getting at my arms, it’ll be another lie down soon. But anyway, the point of all this: I live yet. In the next few days I *hope* I will be formatting and posting a sequel to But Thou Readst Black because of course everyone wants *that* back in their heads again, my gods. And I hope hope hope you’ve been well, I do think of people while I’m stuck doing nothing but pooling my brain out of my ears on YouTube. Look after yourselves, take care of each other, my gods you tattooed yourself I mean more power to you but it alarms me when things I make turn out to be *permanent*, you know? It feels like I barely touch the world anymore, my circumference has become so small, but it makes the world seem only more precious. Take good care of it, and of yourself as part of it. And very, very much love, to anyone remaining to see this, much love <3"

#rainjoy #klaine fanfic #rainjoys writing

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visceravalentines · 2 years

Note

Smut prompt 110 with Vincent my love? He’s so hhhrrrnnngg Yknow

"For your safety, I'll be gentle."

Vincent Sinclair x GN!Reader

Thanks for this, Vince and I have hit a new level in our relationship. 😁

1.6k words

Smut, Vinny gets rough, mild choking, marking, biting, manhandling, creampie

Waking up in Vincent’s workshop always felt like melting out of one dream and into another. The flickering of the boiler, the sweet, deep smell of wax and earth, the quiet, crackling sound of Vincent playing Chopin or Metallica through his little radio speaker with the volume turned way down so as not to disturb you. The man himself, bent over his sketchbook or a canvas with his gorgeous long hair like a curtain shutting out everything but his own thoughts. It was like a fairy tale, some alchemist’s lair.

You didn’t remember falling asleep. You remembered what came before. So did your body. The dopamine hadn’t quite faded from your veins, even after a few hours’ sleep. You’d never been with anyone quite like Vincent Sinclair. He had an uncanny knack for picking up on every detail of your pleasure, every muscle spasm, every gasp. And he remembered it all, recited it like a litany with his mouth and hands whenever you let him.

It was unquestionably the best sex you’d ever had.

You rolled onto your side on his cot, adjusted your legs gingerly around the pleasant soreness between them. He was sitting staring at a canvas, hands on his knees. Examining his own work, making notes, finding flaws no one else could see. He was still shirtless, wearing a pair of sweatpants that was holding onto his hips for dear life. He was maskless too, a recent and monumental milestone in your relationship.

You watched him for a while, the way he chewed his lower lip with concentration, the way his hands could not keep still for even a second, long fingers tapping and flexing on his thighs, scratching at a spot of wax in the fabric, rubbing his thumb over his cuticles.

“Vincent,” you said softly at last. That sole, precious eye flicked over to you in a sudden realization that you were awake. The suggestion of a smile graced his lips.

“My love,” he signed with one hand. “Come here?”

You stretched and pushed aside the thin blanket, padded over to him. He gave the canvas one last look before turning his full attention to you, guiding you into his lap and wrapping his lithe arms around you.

“You feel good, beloved?” he asked.

“Wonderful,” you sighed. You gazed up at him. “You’re…quite the lover.”

He had this adorable twisted, close-mouthed grin that appeared whenever he felt genuine mirth. “I'm telling Bo you said that.” You laughed out loud.

Your fingertips traced the invisible lines between moles on his arm. “I feel like it’s always about me, though. I want it to be about you. I want to make you feel good, Vin.”

Vincent looked down at you with his head cocked, a silent request for more information.

You ran your thumb over his collarbones. He still wouldn’t let you touch his face. “It feels like you’re…holding back sometimes. I want you to let go.”

He considered you for a second, leaned down to kiss you sweetly. “But you are what’s important,” he signed close to his cheek.

“You’re important.” You could feel his heartbeat under your hand. “I want you to take what you want, Vincent.” His expression was inscrutable, wary. You kissed him again, stroked his chest, his arms. “That would make me happy,” you whispered, a breath away from his lips. “If you used me.”

His brow was furrowed, but you felt his cock jump against your thigh. You couldn’t fault him for being reluctant; he took a lot of convincing when it came to doing anything for his own benefit.

When he finally released you, his pupil was blown, his eye glittering with something besides the candlelight. His chest rose and fell with the effort of restraint. “Are you sure?” he signed sloppily.

You circled his nipple with your thumb, rocked your hips innocuously to coax up his erection. “I want you to use me, Vincent. However you’d like.”

You kissed him again, the tip of your tongue teasing at his lip. He hesitated for only a few seconds before meeting your persuasion with hunger, pushing your tongue aside to make room for his own. You loosed a soft moan, arched against him when his hands fell to your hips and squeezed gently. He took your lip in his teeth, bit and sucked on it.

You nodded, alight with anticipation. “Please. Show me what you need.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before he was stealing your breath again, kissing you with a fervor he had often brought out of you but never shown himself. His hands were all over you, under the shirt you wore, groping and grasping at your flesh. With little effort he repositioned you so you were straddling him, fingers digging into your ass, grinding your bare sex against him. You gasped when he pulled away from your lips to suck on your neck, hard.

“Vincent,” you breathed.

Immediately he stopped, head snapping up to look at you with a mix of concern and craving on his face.

You shook your head quickly. “I’m okay. I’m…god, Vincent.” You laced your fingers through the hair at the base of his skull and brought his face back to your throat. You felt his tongue on your skin, goosebumps rippling down your entire body. He was gripping you tight enough to leave bruises, rocking you against him with increasing urgency. Those sweatpants were fighting a losing battle.

He lifted his head again, a pretty flush on his cheek. You opened your mouth but he cut you off before you could speak.

“I’ll be gentle,” he signed quickly. “For your safety.”

“I – okay.”

In one fluid motion, Vincent stood and lifted you onto the workbench at the same time. He shoved the sweats to the floor, erection springing free, the tip glistening with his arousal. He pulled you against him, hitched your legs over his hips, his cock prodding at your entrance.

There was a beat, a pause. He kissed your forehead. Then his hand was on your throat, pushing you back and pinning you against the wooden tabletop. You instinctively locked your ankles behind his back. He eased himself into you slowly, deliberately, his head falling back, teeth bared. You let out a soft whine, arching your spine against the tabletop. His grip on your neck tightened and for a moment the basement was filled with stars.

You gasped, your windpipe jumping against his palm. He gave a few experimental thrusts and you felt your sore muscles part around him. The tender sting gave way quickly to an irresistible heat.

His hands found your wrists and trapped them against the waxy wood at your sides. He ramped up his pace rapidly, fucked you hard in the shadow of every canvas he’d ever made, his grip almost crushing, his eye blazing. His hair fell over his face. He paid it no mind. You couldn’t tear your gaze away; he was beautiful and terrible, the lust on his face raw and unguarded.

Without warning he released your wrists and pulled out of you, took hold of your hips and yanked you halfway off the tabletop, easing you to the ground. He circled his finger in an unmistakable sign.

“Turn around.”

You obeyed, panting, faced the table and bent forward. He grabbed your hips to position you where he wanted you, then pushed halfway into you with a single thrust, drew back slowly, did it again and again until your ass was pressed against his stomach and he was buried inside you to the hilt. It felt like being coveted, being claimed, being conquered.

Then he stopped, left you quivering and clenching desperately around his length. You twisted to look back at him. He was drinking it in, the sight of you doubled over and helpless in front of him, with a ravenous expression on his face. He ran one broad hand up your spine, grasped the back of your neck, squeezed firmly.

A snap of his hips made your breath hitch in your throat. “V-Vincent,” you whimpered. He did it again and you cried out.

The heat of his firm chest pressed against your back. He laced his fingers through yours, stretched your arms out long in front of you, splaying you over the table. The angle of his thrusts was indescribable, deeper than you thought possible, and you were powerless to do anything but choke out his name.

You came apart as he laid kisses down the back of your neck, the simultaneous brutality and tenderness too much to withstand. Vincent pounded through your climax, driving you into frenzied overstimulation, groaning low in his throat as you bucked against him.

When he hit his release, he sank his teeth into the crook of your neck, squeezing your hands as he came deep inside you. You could feel him breathing hard against your back. Your shirt was damp with sweat from both of you. Vincent nuzzled your ear before pulling away, his hands on your waist to steady you, or maybe himself, or maybe both.

You turned around and looked up at him. His face was flushed, brow knit with concern. “You okay?” he signed.

You grinned up at him, wrapped your arms around his bare torso and held him against you. “I’m so good, love.”

The relief on his face was quickly replaced with a smile – a real smile. He slumped forward, pressed his lips to your brow. You set your head on his chest and listened to his heart rate slow back to normal, overwhelmed with affection for this man who simply could not see how marvelous he was.

“You know, Vin? We oughta make you the priority more often.”

#asks #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #sugarpoppss2

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