#i scribbled this on a post-it note forever ago

[spiritbrosonthispartytrain]

no :)

#i scribbled this on a post-it note forever ago #my art #murgash #orcs #murgs has two braincells and one is entirely dedicated to gothmog

[retrocesosdestacion]

SOCIALIZING PROBLEMS. | mapi león

mapi león x reader

genre: not fluff at all, accidental confession, teenager love.

warnings: a bit of headcanon, reader being a stupid curious, mapi confessing unintentionally, also mapi being an assertive/passive person.

notes: i had this prompt when i was cooking an egg. dios im really sorry for making u guys wait too long, also i feel like this is the worst writing I've ever done in my life.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You are secretly Mapi's love and you have negative impressions about her.

But that ended when Maria accidentally left her sketchbook on the bench at the locker room.

“ If I had a flower for every time I thought of you... I could walk through my garden forever. ”

Tennyson.

❝ Damn. Mapi, you should become an artist. ❞ From the other side of the locker room, you could hear Pina's lips praising the spanish's drawings once again.

It was already the fifth time that day that someone had praised the scribbles in that notebook. And you too, but only in your head. You didn't even have the courage to go there and see the drawings.

Two years ago you were transferred to Barcelona. Everything was normal, you made friends, adapted to the Spain style, adapted to new rules.

But you didn't adapt to Maria León. You didn't have the slightest ability to go up to her and have a chat lasting more than two minutes.

Normally you just greet her, that's when you don't even look at her face. Anyone who saw the two of you together would pinky swear that hated each other.

This was all because in your little mind, Mapi had the greatest disinterest in you. After all, you came to this conclusion when you noticed that the defender always ran away from the conversation when you arrives.

However, over time, you accepted this treatment from the spanish woman, even if you were curious to understand the player. You even told this whole situation to Ona, your best friend.

But it was always the same dilemma: “Relax, she’s shy. “ or “ Mapi has difficulty meeting new people. “

Yet that never made sense, after all, Mapi is anything but bashful.

It became a huge snowball since you never bothered to go talk to her. Therefore, currently your relationship with Mapi is completely lacking affection.

And it was just with you.

Claudia, for example, was one of the lucky ones. She was glued to the blonde's side, attentively observing each page of the spanish woman's small notebook with the greatest freedom and comfort.

At that moment, the defender had both feet on the bench, so she could rest the notebook on her knees. Mapi slowly leafed through the drawings for her friend once again.

❝ Yo ya te dije, who knows in a few years. ❞ (I already told you.) León reply to the other spanish woman's compliment with a very hopeful tone, as part of her dream was to be a tattoo artist.

As always, you just looked at the two girls talking, as you sat, untying your boots.

❝ If you look for longer, you will have bad luck. ❞ Ona mocked your indeterminate stare. ❝ If you’re so interested, go there. ❞ She states while taking off her training uniform.

❝ Madness. She doesn't like me and you want me to suddenly get there? ❞ You threw those words into the air so quickly that Ona took a while to formulate something.

❝ Why do you think she hates you? ❞ Your friend countered.

❝ I've told you thousands of times, Ona. She looks at me dirty, ignores me, she doesn't even want to talk to me even though I'm her training partner! ❞ You justify while gesturing nervously.

❝ Stop being fucking neurotic. ❞ The spanish woman rolled her eyes, finishing putting on her post-workout clothes. ❝ Ve allí, siéntate a su lado y descubrirás por qué te trata así. ❞ (Go there, sit next to her and you will find out why she treats you like that.) Ona stated.

You only knew the basics of spanish, deciphering what the defender had said would take a while. ❝ Huh, what? Find out what? ❞

Ona didn't respond, just giving you a stupid smile and a wink.

Slowly, the oldest left your side and walked towards Mapi and Claudia. The moment she got there, Batlle poked Pina's shoulder and approached, murmuring something in her ear.

❝ What the fuck are you doing?! ❞ You whispered to yourself, automatically standing up; scared and surprised.

Suddenly, you felt the greatest penetration of looking in your direction: Claudia Pina looked at you as if she knew all your secrets, giving you chills.

She smiled a huge and mischievous smile, raised her arm and waved it, calling you over.

Before you went, the only thing you observed was Mapi's embarrassed and awkward manner, grumbling at the two spanish women for calling you.

You thought for seconds before taking the step to go there. A whirlwind of thoughts ran through your mind, like a river heading straight for the waterfall.

What if you are a nuisance to her? What if she leaves the moment you get there?

You were very worried about the relationship with someone you don't even are intimate with.

You worry about the image you give to a person that don't even want to be your friend.

Thus, your heart began to run a marathon from the moment you started your very slow steps towards Mapi León.

Maybe you were afraid of hurting her, but at the same time yourself. As if your feelings were bubbling for the defender and you didn't want to ruin everything.

In your peripheral vision, the only notable details were María closing her notebook as quickly as a middle school student after the last bell, Claudia and Ona smiling goofily and pointing at the defender.

❝ What was it? ❞ Those were your first words when you reached the other side of the locker room, completely looking away from Mapi and just focusing on the other two.

❝ You're the only one on the team who hasn't seen Mapi's drawings, right? ❞ Claudia gave the first word, pushing León's shoulder with her elbow.

You didn't even bother to answer correctly, just opening a painful smile.

❝ Yes, I think so. ❞

After you responded, Mapi frowned, rolling her eyes. This only made you more certain that León actually hated you.

❝ But there's no need to show it. I mean, I'm not interested. ❞ They were the stupidest words that came out of your mouth.

The shine in Mapi's eyes slowly faded with each word that left your lips, the spanish woman's fingers ran to the back of her neck, uncomfortable. At this point, you should be sure that you almost hurt the girl.

❝ Don't be like that. Come on Mapi, show it. ❞ Ona finally said something in the midst of the discomfort of that conversation, lightly patting the other spanish woman on the head.

❝ I'll show you later, I need to pack my things. ❞ Maria came up with the most false excuse possible, since her things were almost one hundred percent ready. León's fingers rested on the slap, giving Ona a dirty look.

Your eyes fell on Claudia and Ona, indignant at all of this.

But you didn't know why. It wasn't as if the lack of communication between two companions would cause such great discomfort.

There was something more, you could feel it. Such something else that even Ona hides from you.

❝ Dios mío, esto es horrible. You two look like children who don't know how to talk to each other. ❞ (Oh my god, this is horrible.) Claudia gave her opinion amidst the silence.

❝ Son como dos chicas enojadas. ❞ (They're like two stupid girls. ) Batlle added.

Mapi stood up delicately, pulling the bag that was previously on the floor to the bench and opening it. ❝ Could you two shut up and get out of here, wouldn't you? ❞

The spontaneous rudeness really took you by surprise, mainly because the defender was staring at the other two, but not at you.

Pina raised her hands in defense, expressing a mere comical sadness on her face. ❝ Right. ❞

The same thing for Ona, who reached for the strap of her sports bag and put it on her left shoulder. ❝ Come on, Claudia. And don't be stupid with [reader]. ❞

❝ Que se jodan ustedes dos. ❞ (Fuck you two.) Mapi grumbled as she mock-rifled through her clothes.

Ona grabbed Claudia's arm and pulled her tightly to her feet, slowly dispersing herself from you and Mapi over time, killing the last few minutes. ❝ See you later, [reader]. ❞

Your eyes screamed for help to leave together, following the two girls until they left the main door.

Okay, now you were alone with the girl you were most afraid of.

Gradually, some people and groups would leave within minutes. Silence now, which had previously been scattered conversations, was prevailing, and that was delicious on the one hand.

After all, you loved being alone at times like this. But not with Maria.

You continued standing until Mapi offered you the bench next to her, and you did so. When you laid eyes on the spanish woman, you noticed her fingers pressing against her own temples, circling fingerprints there.

❝ I'm sorry about them. They are two idiots. ❞ León murmured as she took her fingers back to the bag, closing the zipper.

❝ Alright, no problem. I'm used to it. ❞ You responded with a typical defensive tone, unaccustomed to this type of conversation with her.

Your fingers tapped upper thigh, nervous and anxious, waiting for some miracle.

Momentarily, the spanish woman's brown globes rested on you, followed by a big sigh.

❝ I'm sorry if I'm stupid with you. And it's also bad if I didn't show you the drawings, it's just that— ❞ The defender was interrupted when Patri shouted her name.

❝ Hey, Mapi! ❞ The spanish woman appeared through the door of the main hallway. ❝ Can you check for me if my boots are dropped on the field? ❞

Maria looked at you with a roll of her optics, also accompanied by a tiny and shy smile. ❝ I'll be right back. ❞

The spanish woman slowly went to the gate that connected the changing room and the field, leaving you there freely in the area.

A dead silence remained there, there was no one else but the two of you inside that locker room, and now, only you.

Your body was still warm from training, but it could be for countless reasons, maybe because of your sudden meeting with Mapi, because of the fear of everything that happens in other conversations, happening now.

Eyes slowly took in every detail of the locker room: the ceiling, the floor, all the other stalls and even your bag on the other side.

But your orbs left for your side, where Mapi's unopened bag accidentally was. And of course, the damn sketchbook.

No, no. This is terrible, a lack of privacy. Your desire to leaf through that notebook was greater, but you should be aware.

It was only a matter of time before Mapi came back and finally opened that notebook, there was no point in leafing through it before then.

But despite everything, you were a very, very curious person.

❝ Damn. ❞ You muttered to yourself, intertwining your fingers so that you unconsciously wouldn't reach for the notebook.

But, well... Your eyes darted from side to side, making sure Maria wasn't there.

Your hand rested on the notebook, at the same time your heart accelerated so quickly as a result of your comportment. You should go back.

Slowly, you opened it enough so you could peek at the drawings. Incredibly, they were drawings of outlooks and Mapi's cats.

Despite everything, it wasn't that bad. ❝ Damn. ❞ You mumbled.

Suddenly, a folded sheet of paper fell from the middle of the pages of the notebook, falling to the floor. Your face produced a confused expression until the moment you reached the sheet.

At the same time that you were almost putting the sheet back from where it had fallen, you unfolded it.

Your heartbeat increased from the moment you caught sight of your name written there, along with a drawing of yourself and several doodles in the surrounding area.

Initials together, stick drawings of the two of you together that you were sure Claudia and Ona had scribbled, your name was written in every color there was.

There, maybe you realized why Mapi never showed you the notebook. Why Mapi hated being by your side when she was with the girls.

You could feel your face burn, turning red little by little, until it was like a pepper.

Immediately, you threw your hands up to your face, along with the sheet. You breathed once, twice and three times until you understood the situation.

❝ Shit. ❞ You mumbled to yourself with a muffled tone, still with your face hidden in your hands.

Your body slowly slid down the cabin wall, rethinking all the impressions you always had of Mapi.

You folded the sheet back and hid it in the notebook again.

Suddenly, Maria's figure slowly appeared in the locker room, mainly due to the sound of her footsteps.

Your torso rose, you became so desperate that you completely forgot to let go of the notebook in your hand.

Mapi slowly stopped walking and stopped in the middle of the locker room the moment her eyes fell on your hand with the notebook.

Slowly, her lips opened ready to say something. However, the spanish's internal desperation probably prevented this.

❝ I didn't see anything, I swear. ❞ Was the only thing you could say before throwing the notebook back onto the bench and waving your hands in defense.

Maria completely changed her route, walking quickly towards you. The moment she reached you, the player grabbed your hands and squeezed.

❝ Puedo explicarlo, en serio. ❞ (I can explain it, seriously.) Mapi stuttered between words and even forgot to say them in english.

The spanish woman's face didn't even bother to hide her embarrassment. You could feel the player's fingers trembling and of course, the strong desire to cry.

❝ I thought it was cute. ❞ In the midst of all the tension, these were your stupid words. Giving a short smile, which perhaps calmed León.

❝ What? ❞ Mapi asked, raising one of her eyebrows.

❝ The drawing. ❞

❝ But you said you didn't see anything. ❞ Maybe you didn't expect her to be so naive.

❝ I'm not going to lie, I saw everything. ❞ You answer with a defensive intonation, after all, you had no idea what would happen from now on. ❝ Even those scribbles on the sid— ❞

❝ That was the girls idea. ❞ Mapi justified it so quickly, was probably true.

It was at that moment that you realized that María León was not angry or disgusted with you. Mapi was actually in love with you and was ashamed to admit it.

This all explained the insults and scandals she made whenever the girls played with her. You were the concern of all the jokes.

❝ Right. First breathe. ❞ You advised the spanish girl to calm down, after all, she was shaking more than anything.

❝ Let me explain, please. I don't want you to get it wrong. ❞ Mapi begged to hold an explaination.

❝ Go ahead. ❞

❝ I'm not some kind of stalker, okay? I only drew you because, well… Because I like you and I thought you were pretty. ❞ The defender gets confused in her own words.

You were sure that wasn't what she wanted, Mapi didn't want to confess like that stupid way.

❝ But I completely understand if you think I'm crazy like that... ❞ Mapi slowly closed her eyes, trying to throw all the despair inside. ❝ Dios mío, ¿qué carajo estoy diciendo? ❞ (Oh my god, what the fuck am I saying?)

❝ Hey, it's okay... I guess. ❞ You tried to calm down from the moment you felt León's fingers slowly slip from your hands.

Your mind enfolded the sight of Mapi in front of you, it was the only thing you could pay attention to.

Heart felling affliction, a feeling full of pity for the whole situation that Maria went through made you think a lot.

While you had the wrong impression of her, Mapi couldn't control own feelings.

❝ I don't know what to say about all this. ❞ You produced a sentence where you could try to be understandable with it. ❝ I thought you hated me. ❞

❝ What? Why?! ❞ León was really shocked.

❝ Huh… You always sounded or looked ignorant to me. But it wasn't bad, I had the wrong impression. ❞ Your lips moved automatically, everything you kept about her these two years finally escaped.

Mapi gave a short smile, perhaps your words sounded funny. ❝ Yo nunca debí contarles a Ona y Claudia sobre ti. ❞ (I should never have told Ona and Claudia about you.) The spanish woman muttered to herself, but you still understood.

❝ And now knowing that you like me was such a turning point. ❞ You explained yourself without letting go of Mapi's hands for a second. ❝ By the way, about that… ❞

❝ No need to explain yourself, I'll understand if you don't reply— ❞

❝ No. I want it. I mean, I think you won my heart after seeing your drawings. ❞ Your typical comedic tone caused few laughs between the two of you.

❝ And also, it really hurt me to get the impression that you hated me. I've been making you a fool all this time. ❞ You continued.

Mapi León paid attention to every word that left your lips. There, you noticed how the player stopped shaking and stuttering, finally taking comfort.

❝ No. I understand, I would have that impression too if I saw all of this. ❞

❝ But I hope we can go back and start over from scratch. ❞ You looked for the solution.

Despite everything, Mapi was very understandable with words, she just needed time to express herself.

Suddenly, León's brown orbs looked to the side, perhaps worried about something. ❝ I think we better go, I need to tell Patri about the boots. ❞

Mapi let go of your hands, and for a moment you didn't like that feeling. The spanish woman's fingerprints grabbed the famous intriguing notebook, putting it back in her bag.

Initially she carried the bag on her shoulder, waiting for you to do the same. Your feet lifted and strained toward your own bag, but immediately returned to Mapi's side.

❝ If you want to start from scratch, come with me. I'll stop at a coffee shop before heading home. ❞ León opened a genuine smile, extending her right hand towards you.

You got the signal, and you did it. Your long fingerprints met Mapi's, intertwining them.

❝ Yes, please. ❞

Maybe you should leave everything in the hands of time and, gingerly, the two of you would transform disagreements into affection.

Gradually, your relationship with Mapi stopped being lack of love and became the fruit of devotion. Walking alongside her was the best opportunity for that.

❝ ¡Quiero un frappuccino, por favor! ❞ (I'd like a frappuccino, please!) You used the spanish words that you knew, asking with a great enthusiasm. After all, from now you would use that dialect a lot more.

Really more.

#woso #barça femeni #mapi león #fc barça #spain wnt #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon #mapi león x reader #mapi leon x reader #maría león #fcb femení x reader #barcelona femeni x reader

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [46]

chapter forty-six, act six: be my mistake

masterlist

December 25th 2017

It takes Tommie forty minutes to stop staring at the front door as if he’s going to walk right back through. When she finally does leave the hallway her gaze settles onto the wrapped gift still untouched. 

She’s sitting criss crossed under her green Christmas tree with Button on one side and Allen the other.

The wrapping paper has little dinosaurs wearing cowboy hats, which upon further inspection she realises have been drawn on by hand. She tears it open, then folds it neatly and places it to her side. Her eyes tear up, her thumb traces the leather. 

It’s her book. 

Her lyric book she thought lost forever sits right there in her hands with a blue post it note on top.

‘ Don’t worry, I didn’t punch him, Ross did (again).’

She giggles to herself as she takes the post it note and slots it inside to a page in the middle of the book, the one with the first ever draft of her poem ‘show me yours’.

Beneath the old brown leather book is a very similar one. The exact same book instead this one is a dark green colour.

She flicks open the first page and finds a note has been drawn on the inside cover.

‘The day that I met you I started dreaming. Now I write them down if I remember in the morning

-Yours, Matty’

A few pages have been written on, he writes on one side of a double page then leaves the other blank so she can fill in her own thoughts or change what he has written.

They’re songs. Songs he had written in rehab. About her. For her. She’s not sure yet.

Her eyes scan the pages as she flicks through them all, taking note of the titles scribbled in red ink.

Inside your mind Love it if we made it Be my mistake Sincerity is scary If it’s not with you Mine In love Sometimes About you Playing on my mind

She reads them all. Over and over and over. She only adds to one of the songs he’s written. 

She finds inspiration, she writes. She writes a lot, poetry which turn into songs and songs which become poetry. She finds herself finishing songs from her old book that she’d begun writing years ago. Love songs she’d tried to write about Caleb seem to fall together with a new inspiration in mind.

Matty.

Even in the breakup songs she finds ways to reference him in some way.

She can’t help it. There’s a piece of Matty in everything she does. Not just in her writing, she finds herself gravitating towards clothes of hers that he’d once touched. Like her old The Stone Roses shirt he wore once, or the flannel shirt he’d always ‘borrow’ when he came into her room. She buys his favourite brand of tea bags and stocks the fridge with his favourite pop. She listens to his favourite artist and hums a few tones lower to match his usual pitch. She reads books he had recommended and watches True Romance over and over because she can still picture his happy grin as he mimed the words along to the cinema scene. She finds herself stroking the freckle on her collarbone he once kissed. Touching the part of her hairline he would rest his lips against when he held her close. She finds herself thinking of him. Consumed by him. It’s Matty. It’s always been Matty.

She doesn’t stop writing. The words seem to flow out of her unlike anything she’s ever experienced before. Her hand cramps and even then she continues on with ink stained finger tips delicately turning white pages.

She shifts the book from her knee to the coffee table and as she does something falls out from the back of it. Shuffling awkwardly across the floor and raising the heads of the two dogs who watch her, she reaches for the small photograph.

A smile stretches her lips. It’s of the band a few weeks after she first met them. She was young at the time, thirteen maybe if she remembers correctly. Matty is standing directly behind her with his hand on her shoulder and his chin on her head. She’s smiling so big. She misses it. She misses the band. She misses her boys. She misses her Matty.

July 30th 2007

“You’ll be fine.’

Her cousin's words do little to help sooth her nerves as she clutches his hand. “They’re my best mates,” He continues on as he holds the door open for her, “They’ll love you as much as I do.”

“I’m not sure, Ads.”

“It’ll be fine.”

He promises as he opens the door. Three sets of eyes are on her when she enters and she pauses at the doorway.

It’s the tallest one with a buzzcut that comes to her first with a smile. “Caroline?”

“Tommie.” She says quickly.

“I’m Ross.” He tells her, then with a hand on her back he guides her further into the room to sit on the small two seater they have. 

Before he can settle beside her the space is taken by the long haired guy, he throws an arm over her shoulder and places the other in front of her for her to shake. “I’m Matty. Hann tells us you can play guitar, wanna be in the band?”

Ross shakes his head and pushes Matty away from her by his forehead, “She’s like ten leave her alone.”

“I’m not… ten.” She says quietly. 

Matty shrugs, ignoring her quiet comment, “Well, let her decide, Ross.” He turns back to her then, brown eyes looking right through her, “Would you?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“Leave her alone.”

The third guy who she hasn’t learnt the name of yet drags him to stand and pushes him away, Ross takes Matty’s spot while the guy in the beanie offers a shy smile. “I’m George.”

She nods back to him and lets her eyes go back to Matty who’s rocking back and forth on his feet, “I’ve always said having a girl in the band will do us better.”

“Better how?”

He sighs dramatically and Adam shoots a sharp look to George, “Really? You want him to give his whole speech again?”

George shrugs innocently as Matty clears his throat, “First of all, a girl can hit different notes than me, having one to harmonise-”

“Matty.” Ross interrupts, “The girl’s just got here. Let’s leave her alone, eh?”

He rolls his eyes then turns them back to Tommie, “Favourite song?”

She looks back to Adam, already hating her cousin for forcing her to meet his friends, “I don’t know, um.” She looks around at the walls of the little pool house they’re hidden away in. There’s posters and instruments all lying around, the floor is covered in wires and through a barely covered glass window she can see the pool. “I like that one of the new Arctic Monkey album.”

“Which one?”

“Brianstorm.”

He nods in thought, “Alright. Sit back, relax and enjoy, Thomas. We’re gonna blow you away.”

He ushers the guys up and Ross leans towards her, “This is him trying to convince you. Don’t give in, he’s pushy but he’ll give up eventually.”

Looking back, Tommie’s glad he didn’t give up.

She clutches the photo to her chest and leans back against her settee with a sob of solitude. 

With tears in her eyes she crawls across the floor to her sofa and grips her phone. With shaky hands she lifts it to her ear as the phone starts ringing. 

“Hello?”

“Can you come over? Please. I just-” She niffles and rubs the back of her wrist against her nose, “I really need you right now.”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe, @littlesoldierelleora, @procrastinatinglikeapro, @beatr2x, @byyourside28, @plantinghobbies, @sinarainbows

-let me know if you want to be added :)

#show me yours matty healy #matty healy x oc #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #the 1975 x oc

[valentine-writes]

hello, hope this is okay! you wrote angst for miguel, how about spot this time around?

holding my night in your hands.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, bittersweet, not fully angst,, my bad, pre-collider drabble, unhealthy work habits, mentions of burnout 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. johnathan ohnn/the spot

author's note: (；′⌒`) this is so so short ohh my goodness,,, i am so sorry if u wanted post collider!! lmk if u want that becuz i will 100% do that! was jus in the mood to write up some pre collider johnathan aawuagdhe,,, anyways a little bit of a different format today (☆-ｖ-) i hope itz ok!!!!

johnathon ohnn: perpetually working on whatever the team of scientists at alchemax are researching on. you've always known him to be ambitious, admired him for it even– though, more recently, you've found it to be a cause for concern.

it barely ever stops, the constant clicking of computer keys, the feverish scribbling of notes, the quiet muttering under his breath about whatever's holding his attention hostage at the moment– these habits carry him into the late night, much to your dismay

you know it's not healthy, the way he insists on working himself to death– yet by the way he acts, you're willing to bet that johnathan thinks it'd be an honourable way to go.

"there's no way you intend on living like this forever." you comment idly, mumbling the words more to yourself than to him. frankly, you're unsure if he senses your presence at all, leaning against the doorframe of his room with your arms crossed.

"it's the only way." he mutters back, not looking up. a tired chuckle escapes his lips, even though you know he means it humorlessly.

almost all his life, he'd been working to be something more– to discover something more out of the universe. it was devastating to watch him endlessly toil away at something he won't end up even getting credit for.

it's as if he can sense your disquieted state, before you can even think to interject. he glances up at you for a moment, hesitating before speaking. "...i'm almost done here, anyways–"

"you said that three hours ago, johnathan. c'mere."

you gesture for him to come closer. he sighs as you watch him expectantly. you know all to well that he'd love to stay glued to his screen for a little longer, but he nods anyways.

"i don't know what i'd do without you." he laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. you bite your tongue, knowing exactly what he'd be doing if you weren't there to drag him away for a break. now is no time to be snippy. he's complying at least.

he stand from his seat and stretches, the tension from his long held uncomfortable sitting just barely alleviated by the movement. you hear a few joints in his arms and legs make a few pops and cracks, which makes you cringe ever so slightly and still, in spite of this,

you feel relieved.

somedays he's a bit more stubborn with you. today, he doesn't seem like he even has the energy to put up a fight.

you've seen brilliant people burn themselves out. you're familiar with working yourself to the bone too– and day after day, you try to ensure johnathan doesn't do the same. you continue to insist he takes break, you ensure he's taking care of himself– you do everything in your power to make sure that he's doing more than just survive.

and even after all that, he might not know how much you truly care. but you don't know the half of how grateful he is for you either.

#across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #the spot atsv #johnathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn x reader #johnathan ohnn headcanons #johnathon ohnn #johnathon ohnn x reader #johnathon ohnn headcanons #the spot #the spot x reader #the spot headcanons #tags and more tags and and an #im so sorry this is so short and it took so long </3

[frownyalfred]

I have a question! How many like half finished works do you have (not in a mean way I promise) and do you have a favorite one, not including like asoh cause ur actively working on it? I remember forever ago you mentioned you had started writing a part two to the Hal/Bruce/Clark fic as a specific one. Personally I think I have like 20 docs with like a sentence of a fic that I will never finish but like to pretend to lol

I actually tend to few in progress drafts at any given moment. What I write, I tend to publish since it rarely seems to get better sitting in my drive.

I do have a lot of unfinished ideas for fics, and that Hal one is included. Those mostly live as scribbled notes and fragments of dialogue in my phone notes.

In terms of outright ideas, any post on here I tag with “adopt this fic idea” is a possible idea I generally passed on due to time constraints. I probably come up with several a week. If I wrote all of them, I’d never stop writing.

My favorite one is probably the political one where Bruce and Clark get called to testify in front of the senate as Batman and Superman. I desperately want to write that one someday. It’s so intriguing to me.

#asks #anon #thank you anon! #myfic #theresurrectionist #personal

[mountain-in-springtime]

moments like these

pairing: danny x reader | word count: ~970 | warnings: like one curse word | my masterlist

summary: danny comes home to find the reader making a cake, and they sort of spend the afternoon baking together

author's note: soooo this is the first ficlet/blurb i've ever written and posted here so please be nice to me. i'm sure it's not perfect, but i thought it was really cute, and i wanted to share it with you guys! it was inspired by my love of baking and my love of danny <3 i hope y'all enjoy it!

************************************************************************

Danny opened the door to your home, tossing his keys onto the table. 

“Honey?” he called out. He received no answer and began to wander through the house, desperate to see you after a long day in the studio. The boys were working hard on getting their next album done, and though making music was his dream, Danny had to admit that it wasn’t always a walk in the park. 

Just then, he caught the faint sound of music coming from the kitchen. Following the melody, he found you standing at the counter, hair pulled back and deep in concentration as you measured ingredients and poured them into one of your prized baking bowls, a gift from Danny two birthdays ago. He loved seeing you like this. You were in your own world, looking between your recipe and the batter as you gently swayed to the music coming from your phone, which was safely tucked into the pocket of your apron. Danny stood in the doorway for a moment, observing your peaceful state until he slowly came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and planting a soft kiss on your cheek, making you jump in surprise.

“Hey, Honey,” he greeted with a wide smile.

“Oh, Danny! You scared me,” you giggled. 

“Sorry,” he chuckled, “didn’t mean to spook ya.”

You turned around to face him. “That’s alright. Wanna throw on an apron and give me hand? I’m making your favorite,” you asked him, rising on your tiptoes to press a quick peck to the tip of his nose. He closed his eyes for a brief second as a small smile graced his handsome face. 

 “Sure thing, Babe,” he replied, leaning forward to press his lips to yours before walking to the nearby cupboard to retrieve an apron. He returned moments later with his curls pulled back into a bun and an apron that affectionately read Kiss The Cook, an item that he most certainly stole from Jake, though you’ll never get him to admit to it. A huge smile broke across your features when you saw him. It was times like these that really made you feel lucky to have Danny in your life. If you had it your way, you’d live in the little moments with him forever.

“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands once and rubbing them together, “what do you need me to do, Honey?” 

You paused for a moment. “I guess you can start on making the icing. All I have left for the batter is flour, and we all know how that went for you last time,” you jested. 

Danny shook his head. “You spill flour one time in this house, and you’re branded an outlaw for life.” 

You giggled and handed Danny a bowl and the recipe for the icing before turning to the batter sitting on the counter. You double-checked the ingredient list scribbled on the sheet in front of you before beginning to measure out the flour. You and Danny fell into a comfortable silence, listening to the music and just being happy to be in each other’s company. You reached into the bag of flour with your measuring cup, scooping out your final ingredient, but right as you were about to pour it into the bowl, Danny’s hands shot to your sides, tickling you and making you erupt into a fit of laughter, throwing flour across the kitchen in the process. You whirled around.

“Danny!” you squealed, “you did that on purpose!”

But Danny held up his hands, feigning innocence. “Now, Babe, I know you’re a little upset about spilling all that flour, but I hardly think taking it out on me is appropriate.”

“I’ll show you, Wagner!” you laughed, grabbing a handful of flour and tossing it at Danny, coating his apron in the white powder. 

He let out a comical gasp, his hand flying up to his chest. “Oh, so that’s how you want to play it?” He tried to reach across you to the bag of flour, but your arm shot out at the last moment, blocking him. 

“Uh uh,” you playfully shook your head, “no flour wars in my kitchen, Daniel.” 

“Okay, Honey, alright,” he cooed, pulling you forward and pressing a kiss to your lips. Your eyes were closed and you were too wrapped up in the moment to stop Danny from tossing a handful of flour right into your hair. You felt the cool powder on your scalp, and your eyes shot open as you let out a gasp.

“That’s it,” you said, a mischievous grin playing across your face. Before you knew it, you and Danny turned into a wild fury of laughter and disappeared into a cloud of flour as your baking ingredients began to paint your clothes and faces. By the time you finished, the bag of flour was almost empty, the color of your shirt was indiscernible, and Danny’s curls were dusted white. You fell into each other’s arms, letting exhausted giggles flow between you. 

“So I guess neither of us can be on flour duty now, huh?” Danny asked with a chuckle.

You lifted your head to look at him. “Nope,” you giggled. He joined you in your laughter and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. You looked at the counter beside you. Your batter had definitely gone to shit, and your kitchen was a mess, but you didn’t care. You looked back up at Danny, using one hand to grab his and the other to lightly dust the flour from his hair.

“Come on, Handsome,” you said softly, “let’s go get you cleaned up.” You began to pull him towards the bathroom, and he happily followed, a content, dreamy smile plastered across his features. It was definitely days like these that made you love Danny the most.

#danny wagner #daniel wagner #danny x reader #danny wagner x reader #daniel x reader #daniel wagner x reader #danny gvf #daniel gvf #danny x you #danny wagner x you #daniel wagner x you #daniel wagner x y/n #danny wagner x y/n #danny x y/n #mal writes #gvf #greta van fleet

[buckets-and-trees]

With You [Steve x Reader]

Fandom: MCU

Characters/Pairings: Steve x female!Reader

Word Count: 600

Summary: A normal nothing kind of Saturday that turns into a moment Steve will remember forever.

Content Warnings: fluff for the sake of fluff

Additional Notes: I almost posted this a couple of days ago for the Holiday Extravaganza because I felt like I was going to be pretty mean to Steve between Tiny Vessels and another piece I had slated for this little fest, but then I didn’t… Also because this is a little something I have tucked away with some other scenes for a Neighbor!Steve longer WIP I have been working on, but I’ve also been toying with telling their story out of order.

Song inspiration: A World With You – Jason Mraz

Steve stretches and puts his book to the side, looking over to where you are sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, hunched over the New York Times crossword, occasionally tapping your pencil to your lips, scribbling answers down onto the paper as you work them out.

“Do you want to head down to the corner to get some ice cream?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply without looking up.

After a few beats, Steve frowns, seeing no change in your actions despite your answer.

“And we should probably get some groceries while we’re out.”

“Mhmm,” you respond.

Still no change.

Steve’s brow furrows. “Let’s hit the road and throw out the map, take off and escape for a week.”

“Sure.”

“Then after that let’s move to Paris, get ourselves a loft, live in squalor, and eat far too much brie.”

You whip your head up to look at him. “I was with you until the squalor.”

“Oh, so you were listening.”

You laugh. “You thought I wasn’t?”

He tilts his head and shrugs, challenging you. You roll your eyes in return and push yourself up from the floor, dropping your pencil on the table. Stepping around the coffee table, you make your way to the armchair he’s sitting in. It’s really only big enough to accommodate Steve’s big frame, but you crawl onto his lap anyway, settling yourself sideways across his legs, tucking your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around his neck. He immediately brings one arm around your back, holding onto your waist, and the other holds your legs snugly in place.

“Steven Grant Rogers, what you clearly haven’t fully grasped yet is that I’m going to say yes to almost anything you ask without hesitation.”

“Only almost anything?”

“Until a minute ago, it would’ve been anything period, but then you said squalor and also insinuated that we could consume too much cheese, and I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Okay,” he laughs then kisses you.

“So, when you’re not making ridiculous requests, I’m always going to say yes, because I know you’ll be there with me every second.” You said it with such nonchalance, he couldn’t help but believe you meant every word you’d just said, and it almost made his heart stop, overwhelmed in the best way by the warmth of your indelible certainty.

“You should just marry me, Rogers,” you add. “I’m ready.”

“No!”

“No?” you jerk away from him, and he sees the hurt and surprise spring into your eyes.

But just as quickly, he contracts his arms, not allowing you to move away. “No because I want to ask you properly with a ring in some outlandishly romantic moment.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, the tension from a moment before melting away completely, a soft smile spreading across your face.

“That okay with you?” he asks.

“Mhmm,” you hum, then tilt your head and kiss him. It’s not heated in this moment, but it’s intimate, a promise. He kisses you back until you’re both breathless, and then you rest your foreheads against each other.

The moment rests between the two of you quietly for a few minutes, both of you just holding each other, drinking in the peace and closeness.

Finally, you press a quick peck to his lips and say, “So, ice cream?”

He chuckles and playfully but gently pushes you off his lap. “I know the way to your heart.”

You laugh and pull him up from the chair. “Always ice cream.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

If you enjoyed, reblog to help others find this story AND to normalize the fic-reblog culture. There are so many talented writers, and a reblog really fuels the muses of the soul more than you know - we all appreciate it whether we're big or little fish in this pond.

My askbox is always open. See you on the flipside.

#steve rogers x reader #steve x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #ahe 2022 #aspen's holiday extravaganza #aspen wrote something #female reader

[ninjadeathblade]

Moulin Rouge Discotrain AU (part one)

Summary: (Post-game canon) The Conductor and DJ Grooves agree to finally work on a movie together. They come up with 'Moulin Rouge', a musical drama filled with romance. Over time the two directors grow closer and discover that maybe they don't hate each other as much.

Next

Word count: 558 (this is kinda the introduction so it's pretty short)

Warnings: None

Author's notes: I literally started writing this a couple days ago and it's over 6k and not finished so I might as well start posting it. So here it is I guess! I know there are words in the vernacular to describe it. I don't know how to write Conductor's accent, sorry. I will try and post up parts regularly but sorry if I get distracted. Pinguini and Owlice are OCs and I literally only came up with them while making this. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it! :)

The Conductor scribbled out another paragraph of drafted script, before crumpling the entire piece of paper and throwing it in the bin.

He let out a sigh as DJ Grooves burst in, not even bothering to knock.

"Darling! You can't stay cooped up in here forever! There are two of us working on this movie, and I won't let you take all the credit," Grooves exclaimed, shutting the door and walking over to look at Conductor's notes.

"If yer music and romance ruins my film then I'll nae work with you again," Conductor threatened, prompting Grooves to laugh.

"As if, darling! It's just the flare your ideas need, to push them that little bit further to-" Grooves paused, doing a small drumroll on the edge of the table "-stardom! But we may have to get more, how should I put it, creative with casting."

"Whaddya mean?"

"I'll put this delicately, darling," Grooves explained. "I just don't think the owls or penguins will cut it for some of the roles we've come up with."

Conductor let out a groan before quickly sipping his whiskey. He placed it back down away from the papers he'd been writing on and away from Grooves.

"I hate ta say it but I agree with yer. We could get that wee lass to come back again," Conductor said, pointing to the movie poster on the wall from his previous movie 'Murder On The Owl Express'.

Grooves nodded thoughtfully, taking a seat on the other side of his desk.

"Yeah, that could work. I know a penguin who might work as that courtesan you wrote-"

"Satine."

"-Yes, Satine, that was it. As I was saying, darling, I know the perfect penguin for the role. And I bumped into one of your owls a while back who might work well as that guy-"

"Christian?"

"-Yes, Christian! That's him! Well, I don't know if you remember one of your employees, Owlice? I think she'd do perfectly, darling, perfectly!" Grooves continued, propping his head in his flippers as he lent on the table.

Conductor pushed his notes to the side of the desk and picked out a new piece of paper, beginning to write down possible roles.

"And this penguin? What's 'er name?" Conductor asked, loosening his tie and undoing the top button of his shirt.

If he was going to be spending the night working on the film then he didn't want to be in such stuffy clothes.

"His name is Pinguini," Grooves replied. "He's an amazingly talented singer. And that role of, what's his name, ah, Toulouse, that would be perfect for your young detective, or, in my preference, the upcoming diva!" He flourished his flippers as he referenced their previous rivalling movies.

"Alright. We've still gotta lot of roles ta fill though. And I donnae think the owls and penguins will be cut out for all of 'em," Conductor grumbled. "We could see if the lass has any friends that might get involved."

"Yeah, yeah, that could work," Grooves mumbled, nodding. "I could try and talk to my contacts and see if they know anyone."

Conductor nodded absentmindedly, mind flitting between scene ideas and possible cast members.

"Darling, where is this 'Moulin Rouge' in the movie going to be filmed?"

Conductor grinned, looking up at Grooves.

"Where else? It's gonna be on The Owl Express!"

#ahit #a hat in time #ahit au #a hat in time au #ahit moulin rouge au #discotrain #a hat in time moulin rouge au #discotrain au #discotrain moulin rouge au #the conductor #ahit conductor #dj grooves #ahit dj grooves

[lutiaslayton]

Hey so, aside from that time I shared an excerpt from chapter VI a few weeks ago, I haven't posted anything related to SLS in quite a while. Earlier today I finally took the time to clean up my desk for the first time in forever, and I happened to find amongst many other things a few wandering sticky notes with SLS stuff on them! They're like. Many, many months old by now. As you can see in the one above, they date back to the times when I still thought I could fit everything into a four-part chapter IV (which explains why some chapter banners are missing, notably the one for chapter V.2). They're even old enough to date back to the times when I was still referring to the games as "PL1-6" instead of acronyms, wow.

Also hey, what's that? Seems like you get a free teaser for the upcoming chapter's banner 👀 I don't think it counts as spoilers, since just reading chapter V.2 (+ the excerpt I shared a few weeks ago) should be a big enough hint to make quite clear what chapter VI will be about.

---

Also, what's that thing on the right? Very good question. I'll let you guess :P It's completely unrelated to SLS, but it is Layton-related. I have zero idea what this thing is doing here though, past me was doing something in a context that present me has no remembrance of. But hey, that makes for a fun little puzzle if you want to try to figure out what these scribbles correspond to!

---

There's another interesting sticky note under the cut, but I'd rather keep it hidden so that people who are interested in the fanfic but haven't caught up to chapter V.2 yet (n° 011 in AO3 numbering) won't get spoiled. If you have read up to chapter V.2, you might have an idea as to what this means regarding its contents.

---

Boom. There it goes:

So, here it is! A sketch of what exactly was hiding inside Clay's pouch, as well as (as you likely all figured out by now) what Dimitri found in the lab amongst the debris of the time machine.

Regarding this specific sketch, I had actually planned to make a fully coloured version and share it in the end notes of chapter V.2, but alas, I was not able to finish that drawing in time, and it is still unfinished to this day. And now that the best opportunity to share it is behind us, I admittedly am unsure how to reveal it on AO3. I guess I'll make an announcement such as "btw I updated the author's notes at the end of chapter 011-V.2 with a drawing of what Clay's pouch contains, go check it out if you're interested" in the starting/end notes of a future chapter...? Either that or I'll wait for another opportunity, but that would be a shame.

I'll still let you take a look at the current state of the unfinished digital version, since I feel like this is still something you should have been allowed to see all the way back to April 1st:

If you read chapter V.2 carefully, you will notice that the part about the QWERTY keyboard is partially incorrect -- there's also a section with four arrows and a center "OK"-like button. So you basically need even tinier fingers to use that thing.

---

Aside from that, I do have more sticky notes, but they're all filled with spoilers -- so I obviously won't share them here. I hope that what I did share here was fun enough to satiate your curiosity a bit!

#professor layton #stable like sand #lutiasdraws

[captainpikeswoman]

https://lieutenantn.tumblr.com/post/685067663355084800

This with Chris would include:

•it was just a holiday romance- a little fling…so why does it hurt so much to say goodbye?

•you and Chris knew the score even before you tumbled into bed together for the first time two weeks ago.

•and yet…somewhere along the way, you’d fallen for him, and he’d fallen for you too. The kisses weren’t just hot anymore, they were intense, full of hidden meaning. Each touch meant more than simply sex!

•but now the time had arrived to part…and all either of you had to show for your time was a photograph. One that you hadn’t even known had been taken of you both, it had been one of your first dates: a meal in a restaurant, and then dancing in the street on the way to the hotel…

•you were leaving first- your ship set to take you in the exact opposite direction to the Enterprise. Thinking about it brought a tear to your eyes, a stab to the heart.

•you scribbled a little note on the back of Chris’s copy of the photo: ‘please don’t forget me and all the things we did.’ You trusted he would keep it safe forever, just as you would treasure yours too.

•he walked you to the transporter zone. Chris lingered over the farewell- using his position as a Captain of the Fleet to earn you a few extra precious minutes together.

•and you spent them well, kissing him slowly, lingering over tongue touches, dragging your hand through his hair one final time- plucking one to keep safely tucked away.

•never has a goodbye hurt so much. But that’s the nature of a little love…and you nearly believed him when he winks and says he’ll see you out there among the stars.

•he watches you tenderly as you get transported away in a golden glow, and his heart goes cold. But he’s never going to forget you. You own part of his heart and soul now.

•you just hope that you do see him again. But even if you don’t, you’re so very glad that you’ve had this time together anyway. To love Chris, even just this whirlwind love, is better than to have had nothing at all!

#star trek #star trek x reader #star trek imagine #star trek headcanons #star trek strange new worlds #star trek snw #anson mount #star trek discovery #anson or chris can get it anytime #snw captain pike #captain pike #captain pike x reader #captain pike imagine #captain pike headcanons #chris pike #anson as christopher pike #christopher pike #chris pike headcanons #christopher pike imagine #chris pike x reader

[oddvaarking]

The Good, the bad and the Todd: Part I

Odd Squad: Forever fanmade series

Sypnosis: Otis is bothered at work by an annoying unexpected acquaintance, who begs for a “simple favor”.

A/N: If you haven’t read the prologue yet, please see pinned post on my acc. It is recommended that you read it for context.

//A/N 2: i hope yall enjoy this! i had to revise and edit this countless times because some parts I wrote while half asleep and tbh I just started typing anything 💀//

cw: mild swearing

It was nearing midday at Odd Squad. Everyone was in their designated workspace, with a select few either at the coffee station or talking and wandering around.

Otis was seated at his workspace, turning his pc on and waiting for it to boot. He not too long ago clocked in, because he overslept and ran late. But no surprise—that was just classic Otis.

Whilst waiting for his work computer to wake up, he shuffled his way over to the self-service area and poured himself a cup of coffee. Straight black, one packet of sugar, and a pinch of salt, just the way he liked it. From the self service station, Otis circled his way back to his desk and sat at his computer. He sighed when he sat down, putting his hot drink to to the side. His PC had just finished starting up and it was now showing the home screen, along with random shortcuts scattered all over the place. Otis double-clicked on an internet browser to navigate to his work email; he was about to find out what fresh new emails await him in his inbox.

“6 unread emails.”

One of them was a reply email from Ms. O. another one was a forwarded message from Olympia; she had needed help with completing the documents for a recently closed case and she wanted to get Otis’ final input. The rest were just spam emails from Orchid; she had sent him random links, and as a result, Otis shook his head and moved Orchid to spam.

He took a gander at the first email from his boss and replied with a swift yet semi-respectful answer. Subsequently, he studied the one that was forwarded by his red-headed partner. Speak of the devil, Olympia’s neck stretched out from behind her computer and into Otis’ view. “Did ya get my email?” She inquired, her squeaky voice making Otis jump.

“Y-yeah, I’m looking at it now.” Otis replied before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Y’know, reading this made me a bit confused, and I have no idea if we should get Oprah’s input on this.” Olympia explained, pushing her glasses up on her nose. She started biting her nails out of anxiousness as she waited for Otis to respond.

“Hm…” Her partner hummed to himself in focus, squinting his eyes. He read through the email carefully. He actually ended up reading it 3 times, due to his low attention span on the first 2 tries. His chin sat on the palm of his pale hand, and the tips of his fingers rested on his upper lip. Because his fingers were already there, Otis involuntarily scratched his mustache, periodically grunting.

“Yeah I think I’ll send this to her,”

No response came from Olympia; she only nodded and resumed typing on her keyboard. now that that was done and over with, Otis pulled a piece of paper from his desk drawer and began to scribble some side notes on it.

Otis was in the middle of a sentence when his phone buzzed in his back pocket. He pulled it out to see who was calling. “Unknown number…” Otis muttered to himself. He shook it off as a spam caller and hung up. Not long after, his phone rang again, and he followed a similar procedure: look at phone, hang up, put phone away. He was way too busy to answer any calls, at least right now.

His phone rang annoyingly again and it was the same unknown number. “I’ll be right back in a second,” Otis stood up, tossed his pencil on the desk in irritation, and departed for the men’s bathroom in one of the smaller hallways. Olympia watched as Otis walked off and did nothing except follow her partner with her eyes until he was no longer visible from her eyesight. Olympia looked towards her computer screen with a confused look.

Otis was going to give whoever kept calling him a piece of his mind, but this time he was gonna give them a piece and then some because they were calling him at work. Once he was inside and made sure no one else was occupying the bathroom, he locked himself in a stall and answered the call. “What? Who is this?!”

“It’s me! Calm down, jeez.” The voice on the other side of the line said, in a partial irritable tone. Similar to the one he heard in the parking lot a little while ago. Too similar.

Otis’s bluish-greyish eyes widened in realization, then his eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t expect to hear from him again, he didn’t want to.

It was Todd, the guy who stopped him approximately a week ago before he got in his car.

“I thought I told you to piss off?” Otis growled softly into his phone.

“Yeahhhh… but it didn’t work out, as I’m literally sitting here talking to you right now.” Todd chuckled, purposefully dragging the h in ‘yeah’.

While Otis was situated in the men’s bathroom, leaning on one of the stall walls, Todd, on the other end, was sitting in his messy office, his shoes on top of his desk. Papers were stacked everywhere, along with his many, many miscellaneous items and belongings. It honestly looked like a tornado had touched down in there. But, seemingly, that was the least of his problems. He had a cigarette in his hand, blowing the smoke out after taking an inhale.

“How the hell did you get my number?!” Otis asked.

“Hey man I know you’re at work right now, could you do me a favor?” Todd responded, ignoring the question with another question.

“No. Stop calling me, I ain’t interested. Go annoy somebody else.” Otis said in an assertive tone, and he hung up. Leaning his back on the side of the stall, he sighed. ‘Jeez, that man gives me a double-migraine.’

His phone rang again, buzzing in his hand. Otis decided to take matters into his own hands, and blocked the number that Todd was using to call him.

He exited the stall and headed toward the bathroom door to leave, however, just as he was about to touch the door handle, his phone vibrated again. It was an unknown number, but this time, it was a different one. Todd. He must be calling from a different number now. Otis raised the white flag as he mentally came to the sort-of conclusion there was nothing he could do to keep Todd from calling him. At least nothing right now. At this rate, who knows how long he could keep this up? Was he really that bored? Did he actually need help? Otis couldn’t figure it out by just standing there and staring at his illuminated screen like an idiot.

So, he gave in and answered.

“you’re so desperate that you use a different number to call me even when I’ve already told you not to, and even after I’ve blocked your first number. damn it man. what do you want?!”

“Hey! You’re back! Finally. I want you to do me a favor. I’m looking for something. It’s only something small, and I really need it.”

Otis sighed and pinched the top of his nose, between his eyes in defeat. “What could possibly be worth wasting my time?”

“It’s a case file from when I was an agent. It was put together some time before I became a….villain.” Todd explained. “It’s in a file cabinet in the Odd Squad archives. And hey-if you bring it to me I’ll give you…$300. Sound good?”

“Why do you need something like that? Last time I checked you were finished with being a villain, and were more interested in growing fruits.”

“Vegetables, man. Not fruits. Well, actually, count the tomato out because that’s a fruit. Anyhow, how’s about I tell you the reason after you fetch me the file?”

“Ugh, can’t you bring your lazy butt down here and get it yourself??”

“Nah. If someone catches me sneaking into the Odd Squad archives; me, the one and only Todd that has preyed on Odd Squad for years, it won’t look pretty.”

Otis heavily sighed.

15 seconds went by before Todd broke the silence. “So…Odd Squad archives, should be in section 6 column C. Thanks kid! I’ll be waiting on ya.” Todd said very, very fast, then abruptly hung up, not giving Otis a chance to respond.

“Todd…TODD?!”

Otis groaned to himself out of annoyance. He wanted Todd to stay away, and clearly he wasn’t gonna be doing that anytime soon.

The blonde haired man flushed the toilet, washed his hands, and left the men’s room to go back to his desk. Olympia was still there, her eyes glued to her computer screen. Otis sat down back at his chair and went back to work. He sighed and sulked down in his chair, his eyes looking up towards the flickering lights above. Otis sat like this for a while, the lights trapping him in a trance of his own, before snapping out of it.

As he was in the middle of writing a case report, he got a text from the same number that Todd called him from.

‘Hey’

Otis shook his head.

‘Come on, man it’s not that much, i just need you to swipe a file for me real quick’

‘please’

‘please’

‘please’

‘please’

‘please’

‘please’

Otis didn’t want to respond to Todd’s spamming text messages, but his hands picked up the phone and started typing before he thought about anything.

‘If I do this will you stop annoying me?’

Read 12:23 PM

It was a little while before Todd ended up responding.

‘ya sure whatever. anyways, you’re the best! i’ll be waiting for you here i hope you still have my business card 😁 if not, well, you got my number now’

Otis needed to drum up a plan. He was gonna get the file, give it to todd, then come back. And he [Otis] won’t have to worry about him ever again. Or, he [Todd] could toss his promise out the window and start begging him [Otis] for free favors. Two possible outcomes, and one was more frustrating than the other.

Otis buried his face in his hands before pulling them back off. When he did that, though, his face turned red. And his partner across from him could see Otis’s red-hot-chili-peppered face.

“You okay?” Olympia asked her partner.

“I’m gonna go look for my…phone! I think I must’ve forgot it when i left the bathroom or dropped it in the toilet…or something...”

“Huh? Oh…okay. Well, hurry back. And if you do end up trying to fish it out, please don’t try and do it yourself. I’m sure you don’t want a repeat of last time.”

“Yeahcoolokaythanks” Her partner said rapidly before slipping away back into the hallway.

•·················•·················•

Otis— acting as inconspicuous as he could—approached the elevator in the north hallway and quickly pressed the down button. Repeatedly. His goal was to make sure no one was gonna hop on the elevator while he was there. And he was almost gonna have his way, that was, until Ocean walked up. He glanced at the elevator buttons. It was lit up, as it had already been pushed.

“Nice. I’m going down too.” Ocean commented in a calm voice. His voice made Otis stop pressing the button and nearly jump out of his skin. He turned to his creature-caring surfer friend, who had just caught him off guard.

“You good, man? I didn’t mean to scare ya like that. I’m sorry.” Ocean apologized, reassuring Otis. You could hear the surfer hawaiian accent in his voice. Otis just nodded in response.

The elevator beeped and both men filed inside, the doors closing behind them after they went in. As the elevator started down, there was a bit of an awkward silence between the two. Ocean had his hands in his pockets, while Otis’s left hand was in his back pocket, and his right was shaking nervously. He looked down at the wooden floor below, refusing to make eye contact with his temporary elevator buddy.

Ocean took note of Otis’s nervous hand shaking. He looked at him. “you ok, man? your hand is shaking like the san andreas fault.”

Otis didn’t respond.

“there anything on your mind?”

No response. just a shake of his head.

“just wanna let you know, i’m always here if you i wanna talk or something. i’m a good listener,” ocean said to his friend, who looked back up at him.

“thanks.” otis finally responded.

The elevator stopped at b3, Ocean’s destination. “Welp, that’s me.” Ocean said, both to himself and Otis.

“By the way, Otis—“ Ocean said on his way out of the elevator.

Otis looked up in response.

“Your fly is down.”

Otis’s face turned cherry red as soon as Ocean made that comment. After the elevator door closed, Otis scrambled to correct himself.

‘How humiliating…’

•·················•·················•

B5. That’s the floor Otis was heading to, and that’s the one he stepped off on. As soon as he walked out of the elevator, though his jaw dropped in shock.

It had been a long, long, long time since Otis was last in the archives. There were aisles upon aisles of file cabinets. Otis groaned, he wanted to get in and get out of there as soon as possible, but looking at the size of the archives room, it looked like that was near impossible to accomplish.

*sigh* “Here we go…”

‘Section C…Column 6…section C, column 6…section c, column-‘

An old hanging wood sign that read “Section C” stood in front of Otis. He started down the aisle, mentally counting until he got to 6.

The blonde haired boy’s head faced up, high above his height to the tallest file cabinet, sighing in annoyance and rolling his eyes. ‘It couldn’t get any more difficult, huh.’

Otis left and came back momentarily with a step ladder. He was going to use the ladder to climb up and then search through the files on way down. Otis set the ladder down, and scaled to the top. He pulled open the highest cabinet, using his fingers to search through the files.

‘Not that one.’

He opened the one below it and searched that one.

‘Not that one either.’

He did the same thing to the drawer under the previous one…

‘Nope.’

and again…

‘Nuh-uh.’

Otis arrived to the third-to-last file cabinet. He pushed the ladder out of the way before opening it, due to the possibility of the ladder getting in the way of the drawer.

He hand-searched though the files.

‘A…B…C…D………..Q…R…S……’

‘T…T…T…’

‘T! There you are.’

Otis yanked the file out of the cabinet and quietly shut it. His mission was almost accomplished—he just needed to get outta there. He was on his way to the elevator, when he simultaneously caught a short glimpse of another agent that just came out of the elevator and into the archives. It looked like someone who worked in the defensive division.

“Shit.” Otis whispered to himself. He couldn’t afford to get caught, as this could possibly land him in some level of trouble. How was he supposed to explain why he was swiping a piece of Odd Squad property for an ex-villain?

Exactly.

‘Where to hide, where to hide?’

As his bluish-grayish eyes darted around the space around him, he finally locked his view on the dark photocopy room on the opposite side. Otis escaped into the side room, climbed to the top shelf and hid behind some boxes of printer paper. He hoped that whoever just came in would hurry up and get out so that his paranoia would go away and he could get out himself.

Otis sat in the closet for about 15 minutes. He stayed quiet and as still as he could, listening to any footsteps or movement. There was nothing. Nothing except the sound of the old rusty air conditioner, and his heavy breathing. At this point he knew for sure the coast was clear, and climbed back down from his hiding spot and out the small side room. He stopped in his tracks outside the door, though, and looked behind him at the room he just temporarily camped in, getting an idea.

•·················•·················•

Otis hurried back to his workspace, the file hidden in the fabric of his jacket. His partner Olympia was absent from her chair. He was about to wonder where in the world his partner could be, but Otis lifted his watch up to his face.

‘It’s lunch time. I think I can hurry up and make this quick.’

•·················•·················•

*beep beep*

Otis unlocked his car with his keys and opened his passenger side car door.

‘There it is.’

He opened his glove box and snatched the business card that was given to him by Todd.

He studied the address on the card and put it in his phone. It didn’t seem too far from here, so Otis decided to go there on foot. But it was raining, and Otis didn’t have an umbrella, so he had no choice but to make it quick.

•·················•·················•

The door to the compact building creaked open. It was pouring outside, and Otis was just about soaked. “that’s real nice.” otis muttered to himself in a sarcastic ticked-off tone. he squeezed out some of the rainwater from his clothes using his hands. his clothes were wet. his hair? not so much. he only ran his hand through his hair to try and make it look like that it wasn’t affected by the rain, but his attempt was insufficient.

“Forget it.”

Otis sighed, taking in the air in the room around him. The room didn’t have a lot in it as far as furniture went. There was a couch and a table, along with a reception desk that had magazines and newspapers on it. He curiously picked up the newspaper on top; the date read February 14, 2019. Interesting. Grabbing another, the date read July 6, 2017. The newspaper under that one read April 1, 2015. Today was January 18, 2024.

“Why is he keeping outdated newspapers?! A waste of space and a fire hazard if you ask me,” He scoffed, tossing the years-old newspapers back on the table. He went straight into a hallway, which led into a middle room with a single glass side table with a bowl of fruit.

Somebody must be aware of Otis’s presence, because a low, seemingly unprofessional voice called out over an intercom, “To the left.” Otis looked up at the ceiling and there was the intercom along with a security camera. It looked like it was from a gas station.

Otis sighed and made a left, entering a hallway.

“My left, moron!”

Otis, after turning around, scoffed and whispered expletives to himself.

He walked through another hallway approached a door with a sign, and on said sign read “Schwartz”. The sign looked like it was made in a hurry, because it looked like it was cut from a cereal box. Not to mention it was written in dark green washable marker like a 3rd grader’s english project. He jiggled with the doorknob for a little while (the doorknob seemed…broken?) before suddenly jerking it left, and it opened.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here. I knew you would say yes!” Todd said, looking up at Otis, smiling. This was Todd’s main office, which he also used personally. His golden tooth could be seen in his mouth when he talked, which sat at the bottom row, at the back. He was currently smoking something. It didn’t look like a cigarette from Otis’s view, maybe it was something else.

“Also sorry about the door. As you can see, this pile of crap was pretty cheap to rent, one of the reasons being the faulty doors just like that one. I would’ve rented a place that looked half decent, but unfortunately not everyone is a billionaire like Bruce Wayne,” He pointed to the door that Otis not too long ago walked through.

“There’s your stupid file. And I only did this because you kept calling me until I was close to going nuts,” Otis said, tossing the file on Todd’s desk.

“Also, just so you know, that ain’t the actual file. I photocopied it so no one would notice it was missing if someone were to look for it while I was gone. Also, if you want a favor from someone, try not to call them a moron, ‘kay?” He explained, putting his hands in his pockets. “And I’d like to remind you: this was a one time thing. I don’t have time nor the energy to deal with you right now. Even if I did, I’d still would rather stare at the sun through a military grade telescope than to be affiliated with you,” Otis cleared his throat and stood up.

Todd hummed and nodded, picking up the file. He opened it, eyeing Otis, acknowledging his efforts.

“I would’ve appreciated the original file nonetheless, but—eh—I won’t complain. Thinking ahead, I like it. Smart boy. Very smart indeed.” Todd ignored that last part of Otis’s response on purpose.

“Alright, it’s all here. I’ll get your payment.” Todd said, putting the file down and looking around and in his desk.

“Damn it, I must’ve left it in one of the other rooms. this won’t take long.” Todd announced. He smushed whatever he was smoking in the ash tray on his windowsill and took his shoes off his desk. Todd went to go look for Otis form of payment—whatever it was— while he left his office with the latter unattended inside.

He waited patiently for Todd to come back, but to be honest, it was taking a while; Todd was taking his precious sweet time, even though he said it wouldn’t take long. Otis decided to use this time to take advantage and snoop around the room. He still didn’t trust Todd, so he went around looking for anything that could tell him if Todd was to be trusted or not.

Piles upon piles of paper and documents filled at least a quarter of this space. Now, one thing about Otis, he knew not to touch or go through people’s belongings without asking. But this time, curiosity got the best of him; he poked through some of the documents that were scattered across the room. He had found a pile of receipts sitting on the air conditioner behind his desk. There were a couple of unfinished letters, an eviction notice, some bills, even just some random drawings. Something caught his eye, though. There were about 7 letters informing Todd about about some type of outstanding balance. According to the context of the letters: Todd was apparently in some serious debt to someone or some business in the city, and they had sent letters many times, urging Todd to pay them off.

The first letter was sent in July. Last July.

‘The dates on these go all the way back to July of last year,’ thought Otis. He took a mental note of the address on each of these letters.

‘The address on all of these are the same…’73 Garfield Avenue…’’

Otis pulled out his phone and did a quick maps search of the address on the letter. Once entered, the map circled in on a business around 6 miles away.

“Wait…a casino owns this address?! is Todd…..into…gambling…?” He asked himself.

Otis was too deep in his own thoughts, so deep that he didn’t even notice Todd walking up to him.

“Yeah…why?”

And that concludes part one ! if you enjoyed it, give it a like and/or repost!

(A/N: I hope y’all liked this! I know I stopped at a weird place but I wanted to end on a cliffhanger🗿)

#oddsquad #odd squad pbs kids #agentolympia #annacathcart #pbskids #isaackragten #oddsquadfic #fanfic #idk bruh #this took a lot longer than i thought it would

[bending-sickle]

For the 'Weird questions for writers' ask, bc I liked that one: 3, 11, 22, 32, 40. (I know you're away at the moment, so I'm not expecting you to get to this one soon!)

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed? - tucked away in bed with the laptop at night while everyone is asleep. cursed because i, too, would like to be asleep. i also tend to reread a good few pages of Previously On... to get the brain back into proper gear, which eats away at my writing time.

(back when i had a working ipad but not a working [read: non-flammable] laptop, i'd write in the notes app with no line breaks ever. this was double-cursed but resulted in great workflow.)

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve? - not really. wanton murder of characters for the sake of killing them and not because the plot Requires it seems a bit much. but if the story needs it? kill them dead and make it count.

i'm not quite that ruthless, or i wasn't last time i thought about Required Character Death, back when i was writing a Time novel* and considered killing one darling. i couldn't do it. i wanted a properly happy ending, damnit. (but then again, i did write into being a character as Already Dead and then fleshed him out with flashbacks into a Real Proper Character and i felt so bad about him always being dead. sorry, kid.)

...hang on, i just googled the thing and:

You kill your darlings when you decide to get rid of an unnecessary storyline, character, or sentences in a piece of creative writing—elements you may have worked hard to create but that must be removed for the sake of your overall story.

oooh.

in that case... sometimes i do surgical removal, sometimes i do rewriting and absorption. mainly for sentences, paragraphs, imagery... once a whole scene that never really vibed (i have it saved in a document, a.k.a. scene purgatory). i also have a lot of dialogue and even whole scenes written out in notes or fully-fleshed-out form that i try to include into the main text but if it doesn't fit, it doesn't fit. they might get a showing as a "deleted scene" at the end of the story, or if i can rewrite them, keeping some elements or turns of phrase, then great.

i don't do it for storylines or characters, because i weigh that as i write, generally. (or, as i'm doing now, i write an AU of the Established Story once it's done and go hogwild. everyone dies now and it's all horrible, woohoo!)

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud? - when it's short-form, i just write it out in one sitting. for long-form, like with the AU of the Time novels, i have:

word documents of scenes, snippets, and ideas written years ago, in vague chronological order. i would love to have these printed out so i can move them around and get a good grasp of what's going on but, alas.

word document of current work (now divided into 50-pages-each documents because it was starting to get too big) with scene breaks. chapter breaks and titles to be added upon posting.

word document with current snippets and ideas in bullet points, some colour-coded to group same events together

notebook with scenes, snippets, and ideas, which are transcribed into the main text or the notes document when they're being incorporated into the story

old receipts with snippets and ideas kept by the bed, scribbled in the dark, to be transcribed into the notebook

my brain, with swiss-cheese memory of good bits i need to write down because it all goes away forever

very many tabs open during Actual Writing, mostly involving the thesaurus and dictionary, and so many google searches where i try to find out what Obscure Thing is called (car engines and gun parts, my beloathed) as well as some maps.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you? - if we're talking fanfic, there's only one line that has been seared into my brain since...2002, i think:

At his first thrust, Obi-Wan opened to him as if welcoming him home.

^ Darth Maul vs. His Imagination by Darth Grey over on The Sith Academy

i found it while reading the entire Sith Academy archive during my "zomg Darth Maul ngh yiss" era. Context is Lovers Reunited After Separation (with bonus Repressed Emotions) and, i don't know why, that second half hit me in the feels and just never let go. something about love and finding home in other people and physical expression and *gestures vaguely* it still comes to mind a lot.

if we're talking poem, then living rent-free in my brain since...mid 2000s (?) is the line:

If it cries to you that it hurts, / if you can, / ease its pain.

^ "Instructions" by Neil Gaiman

which i probably came across in his blog. it just, as the kids say, vibes with me. (or rather, it's how i try to live. that if line is important, though.)

if we're talking novel then...i got nothing. (aside from dearly wishing to erase the extremely visceral sensation that reading a passage of Khaled Hosseini's A Thousand Splendid Suns produced. it's where a character is forced to chew rocks until her molars break. because it's been years and i can still feel it.)

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

"The Purple Cow" (1895) by Gelett Burgess:

I never saw a Purple Cow, / I never hope to see one, / But I can tell you, anyhow, / I'd rather see than be one!

*series of novels i wrote for NaNoWriMos.

#reasons why pepperf is awesome #ask box adventures

[manicpixiess]

✨Chaotic STEM Academia✨

~ Always needing to write down interesting bits of research papers or uni lesson pages but never having the patience to maintain a whole new notebook for it; consequently, you’ve got delightful facts from like four unrelated subjects scribbled in the margins of notebooks and textbooks and on post-it notes and napkins and The Cat (flipping through your notebooks and textbooks is always a wild ride)

~ Notes for a single subject are either spread out over five different notebooks and several loose sheets (Not In Binders, I repeat, Not In Binders) or you’ve got the whole year’s coursework down in one very thicc notebook, there is no in between (organisation is not your strong suit bestie, it’s okay)

~ Hyperfixating on questions and topics (you have no concept of Leave It And Move On) the ensuing chaos of research and rabbit holes and stack exchange questions and reddit threads from 10 years ago mean that you usually know way more than you need to about certain things (but knowledge is never wasted, you tell yourself, after closing your laptop at 3 am on a Tuesday morning)

~ Ink spots in places ink spots are not usually found (elbows, knees, feet) after a study session (you have no memory of how they got there and now it’s gonna take forever to scrub them out, but that is the price you pay for getting things done)

~ Forgetting to bring things to class (notebooks, stationery, devices, the works) but luckily your backpack houses a second dimension of pure chaos (the second zip) from whence you can summon a very worn-looking pencil from three years ago in a pinch (once the second dimension stationery runs out, you really need to get your shit together and pack for lessons)

~ Taking pride in your rough work- scribbled equations and calculations and sketched diagrams covering pages delight you; there’s something solid and real about them, proof that you’ve done things and learned things. You flip through your rough notebook after you’ve used up the last bit of space in it, and take heart in the fact that you’re different from the person at the beginning of the book 

~ The education system fills you with despair sometimes, in all of its rigidity, in all of its focus on only a few exams. You want to learn for the sake of learning, you want to pursue every single one of your myriad interests, but eventually realise it’s not practical. Some day, you tell yourself.

#chaotic academia #chaotic stem academia #stem academia #chaotic academia aesthetic #stemgirls #stem #science academia #stemblr #stem aesthetic #chaotic #studying #chaotic academics #academia

[alpacaparkaseok]

Shut Eye

pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x reader, fluff

premise: In a world where every night you meet your soulmate in your dreams only to forget their face and voice when you wake up, you’re now more desperate than ever to find them.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: I was listening to the piano version of ‘For Forever’ from Dear Evan Hansen while writing this...so maybe that explains it?? THIS IS SOOO CHEESY YOU GUYS

requested by anon - thanks for the fun request, hope you enjoy! a picture of your ask/request will be at the bottom of the post. Thank you!

_________________________________

You awoke with a gasp, the covers flung aside in an effort to grab the notebook and pen you kept handy on your nightstand. Not bothering to flip on the lamp, you used the little moonlight filtering in through your window to write down the events of your dream.

You spent most nights in the dreamscape with your soulmate, his face and voice a blurry mess in your mind. The two of you would talk for hours, that much you know. The general idea of the conversation would stick with you as well, but beyond anything else, you’d wake up with the same familiar feeling.

The specific brand of heartbreak that tends to accompany goodbyes. 

Tonight’s dream had been something entirely different, though. Try as you might, your mind can’t seem to conjure up the exact words your soulmate had so calmly whispered in your ear as you stood on a red carpet facing innumerable flashing cameras. However, one thing was for certain.

He was trying to send you a message. 

He was trying to find you out in this big world. 

You’ve made a bullet-point list now, with the words red carpet, famous?? and beautiful suit starting off the list. As the list continued on, you only grew more and more confused. Why did your soulmate choose that dreamscape? After years of the usual sitting room and long chats, something must have happened to make him change.

Frustrated, you scanned last night’s notes to see if anything out of the ordinary had happened. You nearly gave up before one of the final bullet-points caught your attention.

we talked about family

did we talk about our family??

Eyebrows scrunched and lips pouted, you wracked your brain for any recollection of the conversation from the night before. Indeed, you remembered waking up with the distinct feeling of discussing future baby names, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember what he had said he liked. What you did remember was that it was a name that had made you laugh, and that he had been upset about it for the rest of the evening. 

Not too upset, though. He’d still quietly warned you in the way he always did when he knew he was about to wake up. Softly lacing his hand through yours, running his thumb over the back of your knuckles until in the blink of an eye he was gone. 

There had been several occasions when you’d woken up still feeling the ghost of his hand on yours.

The notebook in your hands glared up at you, an unwelcome reminder that you were nowhere near close to understanding the meaning of your most recent dream. 

Normally, you would have just let it go. But today was different. Today you woke up just knowing that he had meant something by the dream. The way he’d brought you out on that red carpet, your arm linked through his as he led you toward a group that was already posing for pictures-

Wait. A group? You’d forgotten that part. Another bullet-point was added to the growing list.

part of a group (friends?)

Your eyes drifted shut as you tried to remember any more details, the ways the cameras flashed seemed to impair your vision as you’d looked at the group that had smiled as you neared. One of them had made some extra space for you and your soulmate, and you’d nearly keeled over when you saw who it was.

But who was it?

You sighed, scribbling one last bullet-point before your brain quit functioning.

I recognized the friends - famous?

It was a bit discouraging to look down at the list and see so many question marks, but you paid it no mind as you tossed your notebook back onto the nightstand and found the strength to get up for the day. 

You’d just have to wait until the next dream.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

“I have no idea where this is going,” you admitted while staring up at the ceiling,  sprawled out on your bed. “But I just know that he’s trying to tell me something. You know?”

Your best friend, Ji-eun, just laughed on the other side. “I’m sure he was...but honestly, who knows? Maybe he just wanted a change of scenery.”

“Ugh. You’re no fun.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but no more fun for you tonight. I’ve got to go to bed. Got to wake up early tomorrow, remember? It’s a big day.”

“Oh, that’s right! Are you nervous?”

You’d nearly forgotten that your best friend was also one of South Korea’s most beloved singers. On most days, you forgot her stage name, too. 

“No, not really. I just usually hate having to sit there by myself, you know? There are so many groups, and them I’m just by myself. Looking beautiful.”

“Aww, poor IU, all alone.” You teased. “I’d go with you, but-”

In an instant, Ji-eun, or IU, squealed and you knew that she had an idea. “Yes! Come with me!! I’ll sneak you in! You won’t even have to worry about the red carpet- wait.”

You winced, having held the phone at a distance from your ear so as to not immediately lose your hearing. “Oh no, now what? You know I’m not fit for award shows, Ji-eun.”

“Didn’t you say that your dream was on the red carpet?”

You blinked. “Yeah.”

“Sooo,” Ji-eun dragged out, “Maybe you’ll see him.”

A wry laugh escaped you. “What makes you think he would recognize me even if he was there? Or that I would recognize him?”

IU made an indecisive noise. “Well, you already described his beautiful suit-”

“Hey, no teasing. It was absolutely gorgeous.”

“Exactly! If there’s a guy that shows up wearing that suit, then maybe that’s him! And, maybe he’s part of a group! You would recognize the group if you saw them, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re just trying to get me to come with you,” you drawled, ignoring the little spark of hope. 

“Obviously. Hey, you know that really pretty red dress you bought not that long ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Wear that, and work your dreamscape magic or something to help him remember the red dress. He’ll recognize you when he sees you tomorrow!”

With an eye roll you’re pretty sure Ji-eun heard through the phone, you groaned. “If he’s even there. If.”

“So you’ll do it?”

In the end, it was the memory of having to say goodbye every morning without even remembering who you were saying goodbye to that had you agreeing. 

••••••••••••••••••

Falling into your dreams had always felt more like waking up, the urge to stretch and run around almost too much to deny. Tonight, you entered the familiar sitting room that you’d frequented nearly every night for the past few years.

Your soulmate is waiting for you when you enter, his back turned to you.

A part of you knows that the two of you have been through this many times before. You’ve technically met your soulmate hundreds of times - maybe even thousands at this point. But every night, it’s the same little feeling of anticipation as you wait for him to turn around. 

Always wondering who it might be. Always dreading the moment you wake up and forget his face all over again, waiting for the next dream to identify him.

He’s in the black, lightly checkered suit that he wore last night, not a single strand of his black hair out of place as he turns around with wide eyes.

Your breath is momentarily caught in your throat as you suddenly recognize him, not only from the previous dreams but from nearly everywhere else in the waking world. 

“Hey,” Yoongi mumbles, a soft smile gracing his lips as he looks at you. “You look beautiful.”

You looks down at the red dress you’re wearing, the same one you’re planning on wearing at the award show. Nodding at his suit, you grin.

“Are you wearing that to the award show today?”

He nods, stepping toward you. “I wish you could go, I know that I’d be able to find you-”

“I am.”

Yoongi stops, his mouth slightly open. He takes a single step toward you. “You are? How?”

“Ji-eun is my best friend, remember?”

He takes a moment to recall that tidbit of information about you, nodding. “So...we’ll see each other.”

“I hope so.” You tilt your head. “But will you recognize me? It was so hard for me to remember any details after last night’s dream, I feel like it’s getting harder.”

“I think it is,” Yoongi agrees, striding over to you and grabbing your hand even as a light pink dusts over his cheeks. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to forget this dress.” With a wink that belies his shy nature, Yoongi leads you out onto the red carpet, where cameras are waiting. 

He walks you through the event, glancing at you every few seconds as though afraid that you’ll disappear at any moment. That’s certainly a valid concern - it’s happened plenty of times.

You’ve just made it to where the rest of the members are standing when you feel the tell-tale pull back toward reality. 

You’ll be waking up at any moment now. Most likely because of that pesky nest of birds that have decided to camp out just outside of your windows. 

Instinctively your grip on Yoongi’s arm tightens, and he turns to you. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re about to leave.

“What if it doesn’t work?” You blurt out, taking in every last detail of him. From the way his cheeks are still pink to the fit of his suit. 

Yoongi absolutely shocks you as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, pulling you a little closer. His breath that dusts over your ear feels so real as he whispers gently to you.

“We’ll find a way. I promise.”

•••••••••••••••••••

It was the same dream as the night before; the same infuriating goodbye that seeped into your bones as you hurtled awake. However, this time, you could have sworn that you recalled a puppy-dog gaze that was begging you to remember him as you left the dreamscape.

You’d worn the red dress you currently had on, the red lace falling just below your knees. A part of you remembered the way your soulmate had reacted when you’d waltzed into the dreamscape, the way you had casually linked your arm through his as you walked onto the red carpet.

Today you couldn’t find the energy to write anything in your full notebook, opting to bury your head in your hands.

“Who are you?” You groaned. The feeling of his soft lips against your forehead has you sighing, wishing that you could replay it all over again. After shooting a glare at the red dress hanging in your closet, you grabbed your notebook to write down one note before getting up.

We love each other

•••••••••••••••••••

Ji-eun - er, IU, instructed you to wait for her at the entrance to the photo-op portion of the red carpet. She would be busy doing little interviews before that, which honestly didn’t seem that appealing to you. 

Especially not when you were so nervous you thought you were going to throw up.

Staring down at your red dress, you nearly jumped out of your skin when there was a hand on your shoulder.

“Ha! You’re jumpy today,” IU teased, “I wonder why.”

“Oh good, you’re finished.” You ignored her tease, happy to get moving. “You look amazing.”

It wasn’t a surprise, but she still deserved to be complimented. IU looked absolutely ethereal in her flowy green gown, the two of you looking like some sort of Christmas ad. 

“You look great as well!” She motioned toward the carpet. “I think we’re just after this group. Ready?”

Armed with a smile and your best friend at your side, you ventured onto the carpet. It was easier than you though it would be; most of the time you were stepping aside to allow the photographers a clear view of IU.

You’ve nearly made it to the end when a fresh round of screaming picks up. 

There’s only one group that can command that much attention.

You couldn’t help but crane your neck as you see BTS walk onto the carpet, just a couple of groups behind you. Your eyes widened on their own accord when you saw them, unable to shake the feeling of having met them before. 

Of course, they pay you no mind. However, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Suga took a moment to get up on his tippy-toes, looking around. You went to point it out to IU, nobody paying either of you any mind as you walk off the carpet. You lost all ability to speak, however, as you took a closer look.

It’s the suit. 

The one that is checkered with a light gray, the one that fit your soulmate just right. 

It’s the black hair that’s perfectly styled. 

And as Suga turned to look your way, you didn’t miss the way his eyes caught on your red dress.

Almost like he had been looking for a red dress.

In the span of a single heartbeat, you made eye contact with the idol, the same question lingering in your eyes. 

For Min Yoongi, that’s all it took. 

Abandoning all precepts, he took off down the carpet, heading straight toward you. From the way the other members took one look at you and your red dress and immediately began speaking to those present, you knew that they’d been waiting for this. Knew that they weren’t planning on keeping this low-key, because there was no real way to do that. 

Not as Yoongi saw you and knew. 

You managed to take three steps toward him before he was before you, grinning with his gummy smile even as his ears turned red. 

“Quick,” Yoongi breathed out, reaching down to take your hands in his. “If it’s really you, tell me what name we can’t agree on for a girl.”

The question threw you off guard, making you laugh. But after a moment, you found with a gasp that you remember.

You remembered everything.

The way the two of you first awkwardly stumbled into the dreamscape at the age of nineteen. How you eventually opened up to each other, grew to care deeply about the other. 

You remembered the nights when the two of you were rambunctious and laughing at stupid stories Yoongi told you about the boys. 

You remembered the nights when you sat in silence, dreading the moment you would have to wake up.

And you remembered that just a few days ago, Yoongi had brought up family. You’d spent the night talking about how many children you’d want, how you’d raise them, what you’d name them.

And there was one horrible name that he loved and you hated, and neither of you were willing to budge on it.

“Ugh,” you groaned even as you smiled. “We are not naming her Pearl! It would make her sound like a pirate ship!”

The cameras flashed, which made Yoongi’s eyes glimmer as he laughed along with you. Then, without a care in the world except for knowing for certain that it was all real, Yoongi tugged you closer until your foreheads touched and all you could see were his dark eyes pulling you in.

“I told you we’d find a way.”

Hundreds of cameras flashed, documenting the moment and effectively labeling it a dream come true.

masterlist

#Yoongi x reader #idol!yoongi x reader #idol!bts x reader #yoongi fluff #suga fluff #suga x reader #idol!suga x reader #yoongi x y/n #bts x y/n #suga x y/n #bts fluff #bts soulmate au #yoongi soulmate au #bts shared dreams au #suga shared dreams au

[kythed]

“teenage wasteland.” kuroo tetsurou x reader

4:08pm.

“yo,” kuroo says, opening the door quickly after you ring the bell, “you finally made it.” 

“what do you mean, finally?” you complain, kicking off your shoes and slipping inside. the dry heat of his family home’s living room assaults your bare face, a sharp contrast to the december frigidity outside. “you texted me like ten minutes ago.”

“felt like longer,” kuroo says with a crooked grin. “you want something to drink?” 

“water?”

“I kinda meant something stronger, but sure, water,” kuroo says, filling a glass at the kitchen sink. you furrow your brows.

“something stronger? I’m sorry, but last time I checked we were still underage,” you say, and kuroo laughs breathily — it’s almost a giggle, actually. for the first time since arriving, you notice an odd flush in his cheeks. “oh my god. are you drunk?”

“drunk?” kuroo gasps. “no, no. tipsy, yes. drunk, no.” 

“tetsurou,” you scold, reluctantly letting him pull you towards the hallway. “all those big, bad college boys can’t have been a very good influence on you.”

“I’ve had a stash of jack daniels hidden beneath my bed since sophomore year,” kuroo whispers conspiratorially. “those ‘big, bad college boys’ have nothing to do with it. speaking of which — you want some?” 

you shake your head vehemently and dig your heels into the carpet, realizing he’s trying to drag you into his bedroom. despite being kuroo tetsurou’s official best friend of a decade, you’ve never been inside his room before. you’ve never been inside any boy’s room before, actually — you’ve never been much of a rule breaker. 

(you suppose that’s why you and kuroo get along. you’re forever the straight-laced goody goody, and he’s forever the secretly bad, outwardly good honor roll kid.)

“I don’t drink,” you insist, and kuroo loops his arms around your neck. you stiffen. “and stop being so touchy. it’s freaking me out.”

“what?” kuroo says, feigning offense. “you don’t like my hugs?” 

“no!” you say, and he shoots you an exaggerated eye roll. “you’re being weird. I can probably count the number of times you’ve voluntarily hugged me on one hand.” 

kuroo ignores you, choosing to instead pick you up and toss you over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. 

“kuroo tetsurou, you’d better quit it before I call your mother!” you pound on his back, a little taken aback to feel his shoulder muscles rippling under your palms as he staunchly marches you into his room. “I do not want to enter your disgusting cave of a room, you teenage garbage troll!”

“getting real creative with the insults there,” kuroo laughs, setting you down and backing up against the door to block you from running out. “come onnnnn. I thought we could play a game of monopoly or something. listen to the radio. finish the bottle before my mom comes home and whips my hide.”

you sigh and perch your hands on your hips. “so that’s why you invited me over.”

“no, no,” kuroo protests, crouching to pull a clear bottle of amber colored liquid out from beneath his bed. “I also just vastly enjoy your company.”

“why not just throw it out?” you ask, gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed. 

kuroo’s room is a lot neater than you imagined it would be — navy bedspread tightly tucked in at the corners, vinyl floor completely clear save for a small rug. his desk is probably the messiest part of the entire room, holding an old, chunky desktop that’s covered in post-its with smudged, scribbled notes, ranging from “email prof. miyazawa about missing grade” to “buy mom flowers to apologize for broken mug.” 

there are a couple posters on the wall, too, one for the japanese national volleyball team, and one for some punk-looking band dressed in an overabundance of leather, ripped denim, and hair feathers. 

“this shit was expensive,” kuroo says, gesturing to the bottle before screwing the cap off and taking a long draught. your eyes widen as he drinks down a quarter of the remaining liquid, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. “I can’t let it go to waste.”

“I think you’ve probably had enough of that,” you say, gently twisting it from his hands. kuroo smiles angelically before coming to tower over you. 

“if you’re not gonna drink it, I will,” he says, reaching out to grasp the bottle’s neck. you hold onto it stubbornly.

“you’re clearly wasted, tetsu,” you say. “just let me throw it away.” 

“I may have a small drinking problem,” kuroo says, “but I’m sober enough to know I’m not about to throw away the fifty bucks I spent on that. give it.” 

“no!” 

“yes.”

“nooooo!”

“yes!” 

kuroo tries to wrench the bottle from you, and you spend a solid thirty seconds wiggling in his grasp before finally pulling it away. in an impulsive attempt to keep kuroo from getting even drunker, you bring the rim of the bottle to your lips and chug the rest of the whiskey.

kuroo’s eyes widen, and he guffaws loudly. “that was a lot of alcohol just now.”

you nod, wincing at the acrid taste, unwilling to swallow — the liquid is still swishing in your cheeks. you move to go spit it out in kuroo’s sink, but he grabs your arm.

“do not spit that out,” he warns. “that’s over two hours’ worth of minimum wage salary. I don’t work twenty hours a week in the wendy’s drive-thru just for you to flush it down the drain.” 

“mmmm,” you protest, breathing through your nose. “hrghhhh mmm mm mhm.”

“I have no idea what you’re trying to say,” kuroo says, obviously trying to stifle his laughter. 

you gesture wildly to your face, and then to the empty bottle, and then back to your face. 

for a moment, kuroo wrinkles his nose, and then slowly smoothes out his expression. a small smile stretches across his lips, and he steps close to you. you’re acutely aware of your personal bubble being popped, as well of the fact that he smells strongly of old spice and mango body wash. 

“I’ll do it then.”

“mm?” you squeak in confusion when he takes your chin in one hand and guides your face close to his. you’re not sure if you’re smelling the alcohol on his breath or tasting it on our own tongue. you’ve never been this physically close to your best friend in your life, and you can firmly say you’re absolutely petrified. you shake your head vehemently as he slowly leans down, tilting his head. 

“calm down,” he says quietly, and in spite of yourself, you do. “I’m just taking a drink.” 

then he presses his mouth to yours, and you freeze. oh, shit. 

kuroo wedges his tongue between your lips, forcing them open, and then he sucks the whiskey from your mouth, one hand keeping your jaw open while the other snakes around your waist. your eyes widen just as his close, almost as if he’s enjoying the kiss. slowly, you close yours too, letting yourself melt into him as he keeps kissing you even after swallowing the liquid. 

it lasts for a good ten seconds before you reluctantly pull away, letting your hands rest on his shoulders. he’s smiling, evidently very pleased with himself. 

“what the hell was that?” you say breathlessly, searching his face. 

“I was thirsty,” kuroo says nonchalantly. “and a little drunk. and you’re very pretty, as far as best friends go.” 

you feel like you should be offended, yet you can’t quite bring yourself to be. you’re definitely flustered, though, and a little embarrassed. (okay, a lot embarrassed.)

“I think, um, I think I should go,” you say, breaking eye contact. kuroo raises a hand to stop you, but you brush him off, bounding out of the room to grab your bag and keys from the kitchen counter. “we can talk about this later, okay? you need to go take a nap or something.”

“no, hey, wait —”

but you’re already out the door and in the car, jamming the key into ignition. you just kissed your best friend. or did you? does that count as a kiss? or was that just kuroo being stupid? your mind spins with useless speculations on the drive home, and as you sprawl out on your bed for an hour afterwards. it’s not until later that evening that you check your phone, greeted by a handful of social media notifications… and a text from kuroo.

with shaking hands, you swipe it open, face immediately splitting into a grin.

kuroo: sorry about that

kuroo: ok, not really

kuroo: I’m not that sorry

kuroo: cuz you’re a good kisser

kuroo: a really good kisser

you: you too

you wait for a moment as the three little dots on kuroo’s side pop up.

kuroo: thanks

kuroo: I was still kind of stupid tho

kuroo: my b

you: you regret it?

your fingers shake in suspense as you await his answer, feeling all the world like a lovestruck fifteen year old. you’re a little disgusted to find yourself suddenly crushing on kuroo tetsurou of all people, but what can you say? maybe falling for your best friend is a little cliche. maybe it’s a little overdone. maybe the fact that you kissed him with a mouthful of whiskey belongs in a cheesy teen movie, but you can’t help but find yourself delighted that it happened. 

kuroo: nope. not at all.

kuroo: not at all.

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oneshots #tw: alcohol #meg ur comment on my shitpost inspired me #HEH #hihqnetwork

[maskyartist]

Hi so, a while ago you put out a post about how Augustus Aquato's mental world is a train and how it might work as a level? And it was brilliant, so I had a question: I'm writing a fic and I was wondering if you'd mind me taking the general idea and twisting it to my own narrative ends- and if you're cool with that, would you want a credit somewhere, like as part of the chapter notes?

oh man I haven’t thought about Augustus’s train level in forever! I don’t mind u using the idea, and I would appreciate credit so thank u for asking!! But I’m not sure I have a real “narrative” more just a general idea on how the level would go?? Then again this is LONG so maybe it is a narrative…

One note before we go, Raz gets a costume for this level! Similar to in Black Velvetopia or Feast of the Senses. But instead of just a color palette change, tho he does do that here going to more older “yellow red blue” aesthetic is the best way I can describe it-, he gets a whole costume! A mix of his circus garb and a little server outfit, like he’s train staff!!

It starts with Raz at the back of the train, in the luggage cart, where he would end up looking around for a door. This is where he finds all the emotional baggage, shoved away without their tags, ignored and pushed to the side, along with a metal cage that…doesn’t seem to house something friendly.

Once Raz leaves he ends up walking through the whole train to reach the front. There’s a dining cart, the usual sitting cart u see in mystery movies, but then it cuts to a whole ass circus inside one of the carts. It seems to span endlessly upwards, with beautiful set decoration and plenty of space for tricks. Unfortunately, the performers are currently out, which means the circus is closed. It’s almost a bit uncomfortable to walk around this bright, cheery place full of happy circus music only for there to be no actual people there. Just figments. (Similar to Helmut’s mind, there’s a center stage that pictures all the Aquato’s performing the same trick Raz’s mental vault showed off. Even with Raz levitating Mirtala’s tiara. No detail left out.)

Then we reach the fourth cart, last one before the conductor’s cart, and it’s quite the cute homey storage area. There’s train and circus supplies alike stuffed away, but there’s also pictures of the family. New ones and old ones that Augustus is able to remember now, older ones in cracked frames but still lovingly hung on the walls. Though, if Raz looks closer at the old pictures, every instance of Lucrecia or Marona have been scribbled out in either black marker or just torn out completely. Nona remains untouched in the newer pictures, but she’s a bit pushed aside now. Even in memories Raz knows they were close, Nona has been put aside for the rest of the family.

Then, Raz finally gets to the conductors cart, and it’s quite the sight to see! It’s an odd combination of an actual engine/control room on a train and a big top tent, with ropes and trapeze swings for Augustus, our conductor and ringmaster for the evening, to get around easier.

When Raz asks what his dad’s doing, Augustus happily shows him around the head of the train and tells him they’re fully on course to their next destination! The only trouble is…Augustus isn’t sure where that destination could be. He shows Raz a mental map and reveals he’s had three thoughts floating in his head.

Either -his family continues with the circus without Raz, leaving their baby to do his psychonauts training alone

-they make Raz come with them which would upset him greatly, but the family would at least stay whole

Or -give up on the circus and finally settle down. Ruining their livelihood, but staying with family.

Augustus and Raz look at the map, and when Raz offers to find some kind of middle ground Augustus shakes his head, saying there’s too much to find a middle ground. He has to choose one of these options when the fork in the road comes. Eventually, no matter how much prying or poking Raz does, Augustus shoves himself into his work, refueling the train, keeping an eye on the controls, ordering Censors who act like staff here to take care of passengers n all that jazz.

Raz eventually is given a job by a very busy Augustus to find the rest of the family and get them settled in the circus cart. They need to get back to performing eventually.

And that ends up being Raz’s sort of “main mission”, wandering around the train and playing hide and seek with his family, finding them all in different locations and learning how Augustus thinks they view him, be it as a father or a husband or even just family.

Dona thinks he’s a pushover, saying how she’s always the one who has to pick up his slack.

Dion’s upset that he trusted him for so long but now all that trust is gone because everything Augustus said about psychics n mentalists was basically a lie.

Frazie’s pissed that Augustus never taught her anything, even though he’s Psychic too!

Mirtala feels lonely because Augustus doesn’t spend time with her, too busy to play anymore.

And Queepie thinks Augustus is just old and boring, a father he’s stuck with until hes older.

Finding Nona however gives Raz three different mental constructs. One of Nona, the old shaky grandma hes know forever. One of Lucrecia, younger and clearly in her prime before the Deluge. And one of…Marona. She’s in very old coloring style, but she’s there. On a shaky memory but she’s there.

These three aren’t really going to perform, so they’re more like the constructs of the Psychic 7 in Cassie’s mind. Theyre there to show Raz how Augustus thinks of his mothers, the many he’s had apparently.

Marona views Augustus as her sweet little baby. She’s so upset she never got to see him grow up, but there’s an air about her attitude that acts like she didn’t try hard enough, and not that she was literally killed that day. (Augustus trying to twist his own memories so he won’t have to mourn his mother, if he makes her a bad person he won’t have to mourn her.)

Lucrecia is very flippant, waving a hand at Raz when he asks about Augustus and commenting that she hasn’t seen him in so long. He never comes out of the conductors cart, and they’re both too busy to really work together. (Showing Lucrecia wasn’t always there for Augustus before she lost her memories, she was busy with the Psychic 7 n such.)

Nona is an odd mix of the two. It’s clear she loves Augustus, she even shows Raz a cute little family photo of her husband, herself, and Augustus. Though the husband’s face keeps shifting, and Nona keeps going from Marona to Lucrecia to old Nona and back and forth. But Augustus stays the same lil guy.

She tells Raz that Augustus works far too hard, pushing and pushing himself to be the back bone of this family. Nona can’t do it, she’s too old. Dona can’t do it, she’s his wife. The kids can’t do it, they’re children! It’s only up to Augustus.

Basically, Raz learns from the three motherly figures that Augustus from day one has carried everyone else’s weight. After the Deluge, when he had his own family…he took the reigns before anyone else could and made himself the conductor. The ringmaster. The leader of this family, so no one else would have to worry about that kind of weight. And overtime, as Raz sees when he heads back to the conductors cart continuously to inform him he found another family member, it’s weighing too much on him too.

Anytime Raz offers to help, Augustus says he doesn’t need it. That he has a system. That the system works, but it only works with one person manning the machine. He’s the only one who’s known how to do it, and he’s the only one who can keep the train running, so he just needs to focus on keeping the train moving. As long as it keeps moving, he won’t need to stop and ask for help. He looks tired, too. Overtime his face has been covered in dusted soot and his hat is lopsided. His suit is all cloudy and he just looks exhausted…but he keeps pushing the train along.

This all eventually comes to a head when Raz tells Augustus he has the whole family together again, and Augustus informs him that Razputin isn’t there. When Raz tries to tell him he doesn’t need Raz to perform, Augustus insists that he does. That’s the system. He can’t just break the system. Without Raz there, then it’s not the Aquato family circus. It’s just…the Aquato circus. It’s not whole. It’s not complete. But Augustus doesn’t know how to get Raz back, so without Raz they can’t start the show, but with Raz Augustus can’t stop working the train to keep it moving forward.

He’s trapped himself in a loop of constantly overworking himself, to the point where he doesn’t even want to do the one thing he loves so much, that being acrobatics. Or rather, he just can’t stop being busy to try to perform with the family. He can’t find a new system, because the old system is so reliant on him that if Augustus stops he probably won’t be able to remember how to start it again. Like taking a break when you’re super busy, it’s always 10 times harder to get back to work after a break. Especially when the system is so complex like Augustus’ is.

It worked in the past, but it’s outdated now. Augustus can’t keep working on his own. He needs help. But he can’t just…accept his family’s help. He’s done too much damage, reinforcing these ideas of mentalists and the water curse that wasn’t even a curse.

Btw remember that fourth cart from earlier? Yeah, by now in the narrative, every time Raz passes back through that cart, it’s become more full of soot and rain water to the point where it’s like a storm passed through there, water covering the ground and all the pictures being broken.

This all comes to a head when Raz tries to forcibly stop his father from controlling the train just to prove he doesn’t need to be the one to carry all this weight, but the two pushing and pulling on the controls ends up with the train…crashing.

All of Augustus’ hard work, all the time and effort he spent making this work, all the painful nights of holding back his own tears and never saying a word of how he truly felt…has been for nothing. Or basically, this represents how when you’re trapped in a toxic mindset of serving other people, when you’re finally able to stop doing that it’s like the world is crashing down around you. You spent so long helping these people, and it’s just…never mattered? At all? Anyone else can do it? What about me? What about what I’ve sacrificed? All of it was for you, and you’re telling me it’s meant nothing?

This is when that cage from before, which has been slowly loosening overtime the more Raz collects and sorts the Emotional Baggage in the luggage cart, the tags which are found all over the train usually where you’d find the family members, finally cracks open and out pops Augustus’s own Maligula. I picture it like a hybrid of Lucy’s Maligula, with the purple skin and the looming presence and tear tracks, and Raz’s mental construct of his dad, with the stitching and the unrealistic twisting and bending and attitude.

This results in a fight where Augustus’ Maligula becomes this giant water monster intent on completely destroying the train and taking over the system, to which Raz and Augustus need to stop it together. Augustus essentially acts as support, giving Raz a boost of power similar to how he did in Psychonauts 1 and telekinetically tossing projectiles towards him so Raz can fight back against the storm.

Once Augustus Maligula is defeated and recaged, Augustus swears to Raz he isn’t going to do this alone anymore. The train will be…out of commission for awhile, so Augustus can catch up with family business. He doesn’t know how he’ll continue the circus, or what path they’ll go down…but with his family there? And thanks to Razputin’s help?

Augustus is positive they can find a middle ground this time. One that, hopefully, won’t crash and burn.

Tldr; Augustus’s entire mental world is about him ignoring his trauma and feelings after he’s remembered everything and forcing himself into work. Be it caring for the family, focusing on the circus, doing whatever he can to occupy his mind and not think about his feelings. This unfortunately leads him to ignoring his family, which leads into Augustus believing they don’t want him around in the first place for what he’s done.

Augustus keeps feeding into his own bad mentality and habits because this is all he’s known for all his life. So he doesn’t have much else to go off. And because he doesn’t realize it’s bad, he doesn’t talk about it. He doesn’t wanna burden his family with more problems when they already are dealing with enough.

Augustus needs to be a strong husband and father right now. He needs to keep the train moving for his family. Even when he’s so exhausted he can barely think, he has to keep going. It’s all worth it when it’s for his family.

…so yeah that’s basically it :D use this however u will, and again I appreciate u asking about credit!!! Ur very sweet!!!

#masky says #Augustus Aquato #Augustus’s Aspirations #FUCK YOU I DO REMEMBER ITS NAME. #psychonauts 2 #mental world #man now I wanna draw this… #I’m god awful at drawing world building but I wanna draw the train carts n how the family look #mostly to get the color scheme down #but I don’t feel good enough for that so here we are!!