#saw the early twenties post that's like this on my dash and felt like there needs to be a version with a little less despair | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your writing! I live for every notification that you've posted something new.

I really like your fics where Coops are being fluffy and adorable, and the team finds them and are all adorable about it, like the Sirius cuddle one. I think that's my favorite.

Would you write Coops skating together before/after practice, and the team finding them and quietly going mushy watching?

I love those moments, too! This was an interesting (and difficult) fic for me to write, since I've never written Cole before, but I'm so looking forward to him in Vaincre. The song playing at the rink is 'American Gods' by ONR. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Cole frowned. Upon Katie Dumais’ request, he had listened to “Hoedown Throwdown” enough times in the past two weeks to know the rhythm in his sleep, and that third beat just wasn’t lining up. He paused his attempt at working through the mess of his stall and straightened up, removing one earbud—sure enough, different music drifted from outside the locker room.

Someone else was at the rink.

He scanned the locker room, but saw no gear other than his own; two voices burst into faint laughter. Not the janitor, then. “Hello?” he called cautiously. It wasn’t against the rules for him to be at practice early, but maybe it was frowned upon by the others. Oh god, what if he became known as ‘the early guy’? The last ‘early guy’ he knew had become a suckup Coach’s pet, and everyone hated him for it.

There was a clatter, then more of the voices. Cole took his earbuds out and crept into the hall, wincing with each squeak of his sneakers.

Dumo’s at home, so it’s not the kids…Cole bit his lip as he tiptoed around the corner to the rink. “Oh, shit!” someone yelped before dissolving into laughter. He spotted two duffel bags on the bench, still full of gear, before a blur of movement flashed past and he had to duck behind the wall again to stay out of sight.

“Did you just trip over yourself?” Remus shouted across the ice from the other end with a wide grin. Cole craned his neck in time to see the captain nod, red-faced. “The great Sirius Black, everyone. Bravo, sir!”

Sirius skated over and checked him lightly—neither of them were wearing their pads, just skates and regular clothes. It was an odd sight. Cole felt a little like his two worlds were colliding. Off the ice, Remus and Sirius were kind (if a bit intimidating), and close with the team in a way he desperately wished for himself. On the ice, Cap and Loops were a wicked one-two punch that he idolized. They were careful with their words, and closed-off whenever media was around.

But out there, in their street clothes with well-loved sticks and a scattered collection of pucks, they looked so very different than the people Cole thought he knew.

A new song came on and Remus started doing the Sprinkler; Sirius had to sit down for a moment to catch his breath from laughing so hard, only to be dragged back to his feet and pulled along as Remus skated backwards. “If I have to get up, you have to sing for me,” he said with a groan, though his fond smile was visible from twenty feet away.

“Tell me all of my secrets, tell me all of my lies,” Remus sang, then paused. “And something, something, something…oh, American gods.”

Sirius shook his head. “Hopeless. Isn’t this your playlist?”

“I only added it for the drumbeat!” Remus protested, spinning him in a slow circle. “What, do you want to change it?”

“No, I want to watch you try to remember the lyrics while I push you over.”

“Wh—” Remus cut off with a squawk when Sirius let go of his hand mind-twirl, nearly sending him to the ice. “Son of a bitch!”

“Yes?” Sirius bit his lip and made a dash for the other end of the rink as Remus raced after him; Cole would never understand how someone so compact could build up that much speed in mere seconds. They chased each other in loops and swirls around the fresh ice, their voices echoing off the empty bleachers that didn’t hold a single fan or camera.

Realization trickled in like summer rain and he rested his shoulder against the wall. If he didn’t know them, Cole would have thought they were just some random couple, instead of two of the most famous modern athletes. He wasn’t watching Cap and Loops warming up for practice—he was watching Sirius and Remus screwing around in their free time, on the equivalent of a date.

Remus tried to dip sideways—a move that had helped him evade countless opponents, though Cole could never figure out—but Sirius caught him around the waist at the last second and lifted him off the ice. “Dirty play!” Remus called, sticking two fingers in his mouth to whistle. “Ten minutes in the box.”

“Ten minutes?” Sirius laughed. “I don’t think there’s an official penalty for picking other players up.”

“You wounded me.”

“Wimp.”

“My emotional state is in tatters,” Remus insisted as he kicked his legs halfheartedly. “I’ll never recover from this.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius set him down and turned him around, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“I feel short when you do that.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you are short.”

“Tremzy is short. I’m above the national average for men’s height by four full inches.”

“Shortie.” Sirius caught his hands and pulled, skating backward across the ice as the next chorus began. “Show my life in a mirror, through the opposite side—”

“Singing won’t get you out of this.”

“—and we kill for that moment, when we long to take flight—”

“How do you even know this song?”

“Because I actually remember lyrics when I listen to music,” he teased, turning them in a wobbly circle.

Remus leaned back, using his momentum to slide closer until they bumped chests. “Poet.”

Cole forgot that they were people, sometimes. Just people, enjoying some well-deserved time out of the spotlight.

“Cute, aren’t they?”

Cole jolted and clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his yelp of surprise.

James shot him an amused look. “They do this before every afternoon practice.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“It’s so…normal.” He knew his bafflement shone through every word, but Pots seemed unbothered. Ahead of them, Sirius was lip-syncing to an old Paramore song as Remus tried to skate around him to get to the goal.

Pots raised an eyebrow. “What were you expecting?”

Cole made a vague gesture. “I dunno, actual practice? Running drills? The captain face?”

“The what?” James laughed quietly.

“The captain face.” He felt heat rise to his cheeks. “The one where it looks like you’re about to get reamed out by Cap at any given moment. It’s terrifying.”

“Reyes, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that’s just his resting face.” Pots clapped him on the shoulder. “He’s the definition of RBF.”

Cole blinked at him. “This whole time, I thought he was gonna kill me if I slipped up.”

“Yup.”

“I’ve been afraid of him for two months and that’s just his face?”

“You get used to it.” He turned Cole back toward the ice, where Sirius’ smile was brighter than every fluorescent light in the building. “But he only looks like that around Loops.”

They stumbled a little going through an awkward attempt at a waltz, but they recovered at the last second, and Remus pulled him in for a light kiss. Cole felt his blush creep to his ears. “Should we go?”

Pots shrugged one shoulder. “They won’t notice either way.”

“This isn’t…creepy? They’re basically on a date.”

“They’re at the rink, remember?” A gleam entered his eye behind his glasses. “That means we get to chirp them for PDA in the workplace.”

Cole paused for a second and looked back, where Remus was playing keepaway with Sirius’ beanie. They darted around each other, practically flying over the ice—their footwork looked as natural as if they were born doing it. “It must be hard for them.”

“What?”

“Finding time to do this.” He glanced at James. “Everyone is expecting them to be one way all the time. I expected them to be one way all the time.”

James’ face softened and he draped an arm over Cole’s shoulders, leading him back down the hallway. “That’s what we’re here for. The best thing about this team isn’t our cohesion on the ice, or the Cup we won, or any of that. It’s that we’re friends, on and off the ice. As long as you remember that, you’ll never have to fit yourself in one specific box.”

Cole blinked at him. In two months of mentorship, he had never thought of James Potter as wise. “I swear you’re the same person that put shaving cream in everyone’s skates and blamed Harzy for it.”

James barked a laugh and ruffled his hair. “No boxes, Reyes. No boxes.”

#cole reyes #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #coops #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #skating #rookie

230 notes · View notes

mrskurono · 3 years

Text

REPOST FROM MY NON WRITING BLOG title: breakdown of break through || Kageyama Tobio x fem!Reader a/n: again, a repost from my real old blog I just got tired of going back onto it to find this when I wanna comfort binge it. So I’m just posting it here for easy access for myself word count: 3k tags: fluff, friends to lovers ish trope, timeskip!Kageyama, adults enjoying two (2) beers with a meal, unedited character(s): Kageyama Tobio (hq) synopsis: Tobio arranged for you to come pick him up when he came back for a visit. His plane was early. You were on time. Suddenly you’re eating a meal with his family like your back in high school all over again. This time though he finds the words he couldn’t before.

Through break down or black out that name lit up on your phone like none other.

Tobio.

Now though you were getting a slough of texts. Phone humming in your hand. Giving you no time to look at the messages and look for the black haired man in the crowded airport. Once more you glanced up at the gate number knowing it was the right one he told you. Where was he then?

Fed up finally you skip past all the texts just to call him. Only a single ring on the other end and you spoke before he had a chance, "Where are you?"

"What?"

"Where are you?" You repeat into the phone a little sharper than intended, "I'm at the gate I thought you were going to get off?"

"I'm already off, I'm at my place I thought-"

"Oh my god when did you land then?!" Huffing you were about to hang up and find the incriminating texts that said when his flight got in. Of course you didn't because Tobio stopped you.

"I told you when I left things were early so I'd be landing about two hours before and we didn't have a layover." Tobio's voice pauses on the other end as you groan loudly into the phone speaker to let him know how displeased you were. "Wait, where are you?"

"I'm at the terminal you idiot!" With little care for anyone looking at you like the mad woman screaming into your phone that you were, "Where are you already?!"

"My place I told you! Are you going to come over or not?!"

"W-What?" You stop a second like you didn't hear him, "What?"

"I said are you coming over? I thought we were going to hang out."

Not what was agreed on. In fact you intended to pick him up and the idea of hang out was maybe you'd grab a bite to eat then that be it. You hadn't seen one another in, oh well, it had to be two almost three years now. Sure you texted each other almost every day. With regular facetime happening weekly. The idea of seeing each other face to face though. It left your stomach tight and a bundle of nerves a little less than understandable. He was a big shot volleyball player now. Being friends with a celebrity felt weirder to you than you cared to admit. You thought if maybe just a lunch and then he could go see the guys things would be alright. Instead now he was asking you to come hang out at his place all of a sudden.

"What?" You echo yourself for a third time like he asked.

"I told you to come over! I thought that's what we were gonna do!"

You swallow the lump in your throat as you grip your phone tighter, "Wait- What about the others and Shoyo I just thought-"

"Just come over already."

Undeniable click on the other end when he hung up. No second to dispute it in the moment. You wanted to hang out. You really did. But something ate you. Nerves. Maybe this was a bad idea. What you had going was perfect and seeing each other for the first time in years seemed like you were going to ruin something. Unsure what there was to ruin. You two were friends. This white knuckled grip on your phone seemed silly. But why wasn't it going away?

Shaking the nerves out like you could simply whisk them away. You pocketed your phone ready to still yell at him for mixing up such a simple schedule and making you go to the airport like an idiot.

Last time you recalled being at Tobio's place was for a going away party. Of course his own because his mother threw it and all of the volleyball team and tagalongs were included. It was fun last time, with everyone that is. Yachi and Kiyoko to be with, you really enjoyed yourself the last time you were here. But now you wondered if you could have just as much fun without all your friends around to buffer you.

One might mock the twenty something year old for keeping his stuff at home. Repeatedly Tobio asked why would he move when most his time was spent in Germany. He came home to see family and friends anyways. Keeping his things there only made more sense.

Finding yourself wrapping your knuckles on the Kageyama's door after you finally made it to where he was and not the airport. It took but one wrap to be greeted by the setter in a heartbeat.

"Tobio!" Your eyes widen, having to actually tip your head back to look at him. Was he this tall last time you saw him, "Your- Where is-"

"My mom's out with my sister. You missed that cry fest already," His blue eyes roll to the back of his head only for a second. Followed by a cheeky smile. An actual smile crossing his lips as he looks down at you for a moment. Perhaps realizing he really was looking down at you, "It's uh..."

"Been a while?" You feel the tips of your ears getting warm.

This was stupid. Utterly insane.

You saw him almost every week on the screen of your phone. Why was this so much different? Why couldn't there be someone else here to buffer this for you.

"Two and a half years since you came and saw me in Germany," Tobio palmed the back of his head with that crooked smile on his face wearing a hole in your heart.

You look him up and down, still in athletic gear like it was all he owned. Actually that was probably true. He was shit at figuring what to wear so Tobio just opted for brand loyalty of anyone who gave him free stuff. Those athletic shorts a testament to that fact considering you at least tried to wear something nice and clean to pick him up at the airport he decided to leave from.

"What the hell is with you not telling me you left early!?" Snapped back to the indignance you felt at the airport and the drive over, you cross your arms with a peeved look.

"That's not true!" He dug into his pocket for his phone. Quick to shove it in your face of your text conversation last night. Tobio pointing out the text he explained poorly as an early flight. You couldn't focus in the seconds following when the fresh scent of his familiar deodorant hit you.

It'd been so long. You'd forgotten how much you loved the way he smelled even when you were in school together. To think it still made your chest as tight as it did back when you were teenagers. Almost enough to make you not notice your name in his phone.

There, tacked onto the end your name was a heart. A double take in order. That was until Tobio realized you weren't looking at his text. And right away he yanked his phone away from your view. Cheeks dusted with red as he fidgeted and tried to push his hair back off his face to no avail. Absorbed too much in his phone you hadn't realized his hair was wet as well. Explaining why you could smell his familiar deodorant so easily. He'd obviously taken a shower.

"You took a shower like I haven't seen drenched in sweat?" You break the forming ice between the two of you in an attempt to not let it get any worse. Even if your ears feel as hot as the sun. Your attempt seems to ease something between the two of you and Tobio let a bit of a smile soften on his features.

"You gonna stand out there like an idiot?" He looked at you point blank.

"You gonna ask me to come in like a decent host?" You shoot back.

Maybe you didn't need the buffer of everyone else to hang out with your friend.

Explaining his mom and sister had gone to go get things for dinner as well as pick his grandma up. The offer to stay for a home cooked meal was extended to you quickly. Apprehensive to accept seeing as things were going well now but maybe not so much later. You didn't want to overstay your welcome. Tobio really wasn't going to take no for an answer. Even repeating that dinner was going to be served and it was one of your favorite concoctions Mrs. Kageyama made. Unsure of the last time you had a home cooked meal like that. You begrudgingly accept because your stomach really did speak up for you.

First met with the fear of how long you and Tobio might be alone together. It thankfully wasn't enough time for you to stick your foot in your mouth. Both his sister and mom showed up with grandma Kageyama in tow. All three women more than excited to see you since it'd been a few months since you stopped by. Tobio's mom showering you in affection as her 'good' child seeing as you came to visit far more than her son. A cranky Tobio argued that he lived all the way in Germany there was just no 'coming over' to visit. He hardly won that argument.

Much like the times in high school when you came over. Mrs. Kageyama asked if you would help with dinner. Extending an extra set of hands to meal prep meant you did find a bit of a buffer from being left alone with Tobio for too long. Ironically though instead of spending his time on his phone or something capturing his attention on the tv. Tobio was in the kitchen with the rest of the family helping with what little prep there was to spare between the four of you.

He really was shit at cooking but it was cute to watch the world renowned setter get scolded by his mom even at this age. Each time you giggled he'd shoot you a glare that only lasted a few seconds. Unable to hold it as his cheeks would gain a dusting of pink and he'd just huff and go back to doing it better like his mom told him to.

This felt good. This felt like home. It had been a while since you felt like this.

"And dinner is done!" Mrs. Kageyama was happy to announce the mini feast. More than you ever thought was needed for a dinner. You suspected maybe her son being home had something to do with it. Though with how much she made you expected some more visitors. That was dashed though when you realized he still ate like a horse. Snickering you won't deny Mrs. Kageyama knew what she was doing in the kitchen. Everything you eat feels like a warm hug. And that wasn't just the beer you had with dinner speaking for you. This really felt amazing.

"Hey," Tobio stood above you once he'd clear the table after his mom and sister said they'd be back after dropping grandma Kageyama off, "You want another?"

A second you realize he's looking down at the empty beer in front of you, "Um-"

"I was gonna have another anyways," Tobio gives you an answer before you can have a chance.

Matching cans he brings you one but mentions he's going to go sit outside for a bit. Wondering if you'd like to come with. Stuffed with dinner you were pretty sure you could move if you forced yourself to. So you find yourself trailing him to the back patio ever so familiar to you.

Outside looks so much different than you remember. No more volleyball net. The sets of poles gone. No random volleyballs left out or scattered everywhere. You'd seen this yard a million times since graduation but for some reason it felt weird sitting out there with the volleyball fanatic himself and not a single volleyball in his grasp.

The crack of his beer reminds you of the one in your grasp. Following suit you open your own and take a sip before setting it on the table next to his. Alone together but you could do this.

"...how long you planning on staying?" Out of everything, he hadn't told you how long his little vacation was going to last this time.

"I don't know." A very unlike him answer. You turned to him just to see Tobio looking out at the yard in front of the both of you with a glazed over look.

"What about the team? Did everyone come back with you too?" Figuring everyone was on break then, Kōrai, Wakatoshi and Fukurō must have come back to visit family too since they weren't a bother in the last video call you had together.

"I don't know." Again with the vacant look. Tobio was earning a scowl from you now. He only had a single beer with dinner too so he had no excuse to be this spacy. Seconds away from getting the grumpy side of you, he turns to meet your gaze, "I took a little bit of time off."

Wow.

There hadn't been anytime off since graduations. Not any on purpose that was. Tobio had been moving forward to make sure he wasn't left behind just like the others did after graduating. Getting to where he was now was no easy feat. For him to take a break was utterly concerning.

"Did something happened? With the guys? The Schweiden team are-"

"No, it was my choice." Tobio looked at you then down to your pair of drinks, "I had something bothering me."

"Alright you know what-" Huffing you square up with him across the patio table, "What the hell? First you don't tell me when you're getting here. Then you get here hours early and don't tell me. Your mom made you re-chop the garlic twice and you didn't say anything. And you haven't mentioned harassing Shoyo over the phone one time. What's up with you?"

Blue eyes staring at you from across the table. Much like the way he stared at you the day he told you he'd be going to Germany. Unlike then the stomach lurking feeling you got from that day didn't measure up to now. Tobio's fixed expression unreadable on his familiar yet so different face. You were looking at your friend but someone entirely new in front of you all at once.

Between the time you waited for an explanation and when he moved forward. Time sped up. His lips against yours before you knew it. In a moment so fleeting that you weren't able to do anything but stare at him when he came back into your full line of sight.

The way you didn't say anything sent him into the first real glimpse of an old fumbling fool, "Oh god no! I- That wasn't- Shit wait y/n no I-"

"You-" the word bubbled in your throat all at once, "-kissed me."

His blue eyes grew huge and the setter looked down at the lips of your hardly touched beer can, "I- Wait listen ok I-"

"Again."

"What?"

"Kiss me again."

Tobio's eyes darted up from the cans. You were looking at him. The same way you did across the gym all those years ago. With such a conviction that his skin tingled with lively vibrance nothing in the world compared to. He could feel his hairs stand on end like they were saluting you. And he bit his lip once nervously expecting you to back down. When you didn't though. He knew he had to.

Slowed down from before. To take a moment to savor everything about it lost in the urgency of the first one. Tobio's lips met yours like they were old friends. Kiss as tender as you imagined. It wasn't until your hands were up cupping his face. And his fingertips grazed the skin of your cheek as he did the same. Did you really make the realization of the knot of nerves in your stomach loosening all at once.

"...I came back to see you." Tobio confessed against your lips. He found his words even though he reluctantly didn't want the kiss to end, "I couldn't focus and- I wasn't doing great at practice- Things were off I just couldn't-"

"We talk every day," You give that out like it's the same. You're a liar if anything. None of it was the same and none of it would be the same now they you had the buzz of his lips against yours, "I don't understand- We just-"

"I think I love you-" Tobio blurted.

No going back now.

Cheeks as red as the day you first kissed his knuckles after nationals. Tobio could only blink a few dozen times as it was hard enough to think of the right words when he was focused. Now his mind was leaving him at a million miles an hour and everything he'd rehearsed was for nothing in this very moment. All Tobio could think of was the hum of your lips against his. Comparing it to how he always imagined it would feel. And realizing now, it was so much better than that.

He swore he could see his reflection in your eyes. Quickly Tobio tried to recoup the plan he had made on the plane ride, "I just- Hold on ok- It's just- Ever since we were kids- I guess a long time- And being in Germany- It feels weird away- I love it but it doesn't feel completely right- I came back to see you and- I didn't mean it exactly like-"

"I love you too." The words swelled in your chest like a school girl. Here you were in your twenties confessing like a fool. Somehow it felt better than keep it all in these years. You find more to go along with just blurting that out like he did, "I mean- I think I've known for a while- A long while. This feeling, I don't know a lot of things I guess since I don't travel the world like you. Even when you were so far away I couldn't shake this-"

All over again and for only the third time in a lifetime. Tobio leaned in and kissed you. Practice making perfect with him like always. This time his hands found yours to squeeze them tight. Fingers wrapping around your palms with the warm of them taking over your hands.

Tobio was slow. He waited an entire plan ride plus almost a decade to do this. Through break downs or break throughs, your lips lit up more in him than anything your name in his contacts could ever do.

#hq!!#hq #hq x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kageyama tobio #tobio kageyama #hq kageyama #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #tobio kageyama x reader #hq fluff

127 notes · View notes

rachelsteapot · 3 years

Text

Rescued: Tommy Shelby x Female!Reader Pt. 2

Here’s part 2 for all you lovely people :) Read part one Here

Just to let you all know, I am aiming to post twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays, but I am currently on Easter break so when I return to 6th Form, that may change. I aim to post at least once a week during term time, but that is to be comfirmed.

Thank you so so much for all the love and support that you have shown me for Rescued. I really wasn’t expecting this much love. You’re all wonderful!

Warnings: None

Tags: @bat-luna-cat , @nothingleftthaticando

That evening, Tommy Shelby returned to Battersea cats and dogs home.

He pushed the front door open and entered the foyer, where he had stood mere hours before. No one was there so he sat in one of the slightly battered looking seats and let himself relax. Today had been long, but by his standards, not overly eventful. He wanted to see his new dog, but also this girl that had caught his eye.

Y/N, on the other hand, was shitting herself.

The Thomas Shelby was here to collect a dog, one of her dogs, and she hadn’t made any considerations. If she’d have known, she would have had all the dogs lined up and ready.

But she hadn’t.

And all that was left to do was pray.

Finally, she hauled herself from her self pity and appeared behind the desk to see the famous Mr Thomas Shelby light a cigarette. His stunning blue eyes met Y/N’s and her heart thudded in her throat.

“Please follow me, Bruce is waiting for you,” Y/N gulped, watching Tommy’s coat sweep as he stood.

Tommy watched as this girl, this woman, gracefully walked across the foyer, opening a different door to earlier. Upon entering, he found her crouched next to Bruce, stroking him gently and whispering. Finally she stood, taking a second to wipe tears from her eyes before she turned to him.

"I hope you love Bruce just as much as I do. He's been at Battersea for a couple of years now and, honestly, he's the best dog ever. I swear, he's got to be part human, he always knows how to comfort you," Almost as if to prove it, Bruce pushed his head into Y/N's hand and whimpered gently.

Tommy felt his heart melt a little more for this woman. It was clear that this dog meant a lot to her. And for a moment, his heart ruled his head.

"You could always come with us."

Y/N shot Tommy a confused look. This was not the Tommy she had heard about, and she was not about to become part of some cruel game.

"What do you mean, come with you? You're adopting a dog, not asking to marry me. At least ask me out to dinner first," Y/N blurted before she could stop herself.

Tommy's eyebrow raised, but so did the corners of his lips. Then, followed a short chuckle.

"The Ritz, 8 PM tonight. Buy yourself a dress, I left an envelope in the donations box."

"But the Ritz doesn't take dogs-"

"They will if it's mine, come on Bruce," and with that, Tommy turned and strode out of the kennel. Y/N hurried after him with the bag of dog food, and found the Shelby brother stood next to a very expensive looking Bentley. Bruce followed obligingly and began sniffing at the wheels of Tommy's car while the two humans loaded his things.

Once the car was loaded, Tommy hoisted Bruce into the passenger seat and shut the door, before settling himself in the drivers side. He turned, leaning out of the window and met Y/N's gaze once again.

"The Ritz, 8 PM, don't be late," and with that, Mr Shelby and his new companion trundled away down the street. Y/N stood there, dazed, desperately trying to process what had happened. Then, she remembered the envelope. Y/N dashed inside and opened up the donations box, removing a pale envelope with her name printed neatly on it, and opening it. Inside was a wad of cash, easily amounting to near £100, although she didn’t care to count it before she stuffed it into her pocket.

The next thing that Y/N’s whizzing brain realised, was that she would need to finish work early today, meaning that she would need to confront her mean, and rather sleazy manager, Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith was a middle aged man who tried to cover his rapidly receding hairline with a badly matched toupee. He seemed to have no inhibitions, and where his hands didn’t wander, his eyes definitely did.

Gulping down bile, Y/N approached his office and knocked on the door. She heard a croak from within and opened the door, stepping into the shroud of cigarette smoke.

“Mr. Smith, it’s Y/N. I’m just letting you know that Bruce has been paid for and collected, and the money is in the strong box under the main desk.” When she heard a grunt of approval, Y/N continued. “Also, Sir, I hope it’s not too much trouble, but I was wondering if Margerie and Alan could close up tonight without me? I have been having a few women’s issues and I feel I would be of more use tomorrow if I could have a few hours off tonight.”

Upon the mention of women’s issues, Mr. Smith began to cough and splutter, nodding and waving his hand through the shroud of smoke.

“Yes, leave, just know it will be deducted from your pay for this week!”

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. She thanked Mr. Smith, and dashed from his office, wishing a brief goodbye to her co-workers as she went.

Then, she was running towards the shopping district, once again praying to whatever god may be listening, but this time, in the hope that the shops were still open.

Finally, it was 8 PM. Tommy had arrived at the Ritz not long before eight, and had settled himself and Bruce into a private room. He had ignored the protests of the concierge in regards to Bruce’s presence, and was adamant that it would stay this way. Now, all that was left to do, was wait.

When Y/N finally arrived, she was escorted into the room by a smartly dressed waiter. Tommy had stood from his seat to politely welcome his quest, but when he saw her, his world flipped.

Y/N was wearing a well fitted silver full length evening gown. It had small straps that fed into a plunging back, which Tommy had glimpsed as Y/N had turned to thank her escort. Gone was the ragged, almost street urchin looking girl, and instead in her place stood a young woman who could easily have been mistaken for the daughter of a lord. Y/N held herself differently too. Her posture was relaxed yet elegant, and her hands rested in her lap, holding a small silver bag.

"Mr. Shelby? Is everything okay?" Y/N's query roused Tommy from his unsaintly thoughts as he cleared his throat and met his guest's eyes.

"Yes, please, please sit." He directed, pulling out the chair opposite his for Y/N to sit on. She gracefully sat in the chair, stroking Bruce gently who had laid his head on her lap.

"So, Mr. Shelby,"

"Tommy, call me Tommy."

Y/N gulped, "Tommy, why did you ask me here?"

"Because, Y/N, you intrigue me. I don’t often get to talk to people like you.” Tommy’s voice was calm and measured, a drastic contrast to the storm that was raging in his head. He picked up his glass and took a sip, watching the woman opposite him intently.

“Shall we order some food? I expect you’re hungry.”

The rest of the evening passed slowly, time running like honey. Y/N slowly allowed herself to relax, enjoying the company of a man for the first time in what felt like forever. And he was attractive too.

Towards 10 PM, Tommy moved from the seat opposite Y/N to the seat beside her, their conversation flowing like the alcohol from their glasses.

“Y/N,” Tommy started after a prolonged period of comfortable silence. “How would you feel about coming back to Birmingham with me?”

Y/N was shocked. She had known this man less than twenty four hours and he was already suggesting she uproot her life and move halfway across the country to a completely different city.

“I don’t know if I can, Mr. Shelby- Tommy. The dogs are all here, and so is my job, and my friends. I can’t just leave,” Y/N felt Tommy deflate slightly, only microscopically, but it was enough.

Silence shattered the room. It wasn’t warm and comfortable, but cold, aggressive, heart breaking.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby. Thank you for a lovely meal, I hope I may get to see you again. Please take good care of Bruce.”

Y/N stood and turned, only to feel her hand catch on something warm and firm.

Tommy felt his heart break as Y/N rejected his offer. This woman was like nothing he had ever encountered. She was intelligent, quick witted, able to drink just as much as he was, and stunningly beautiful. He was not going to let her get away that easily.

So, Tommy reached out and grabbed her hand as she attempted to leave. He spun her around and pulled the young woman flush against him.

“I can’t let you go just like that. Y/N, you intrigue me. You more than intrigue me. Please, come back to Birmingham for a day. We can see how it goes. I’ll get you a job at my company, you can meet my family, and then you can decide if you want in or out of my life. Please, Y/N. Please.”

Y/N felt Tommy’s hot breath on her neck, warming her heart. She could feel his body through his shirt, she felt the way that they fit. No one had ever felt so right. So she swallowed her pride and ignored the voice of reason.

She was going back to Birmingham with Tommy, and that was final.

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby #john shelby #shelby company limited #dogs #cillian murphy

61 notes · View notes

broadwayandnetflix · 4 years

Text

Pick Me Up - Bill Hader x Reader

Theme: Fluff, with some Angst

Warnings: Language, Use of Alcohol

Summary: Bill wakes up in the early hours of the morning with a request to pick up a rather drunken you.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I started this ages ago, I still really dig some of my word usage in this fic. Once again, Maggie Carey and Bill will not be married in this fic. Thanks for dealing with my sporadic fic posting.

It was just supposed to be one drink. Even if you could remember that rule, you were pissed off and needed to forget everything for a while. Just enough for the alcohol to slip into your system and make you feel somewhat fixed for the night.

Except one drink became two, and three, and soon five. I think it’s important to note that you were an incredible lightweight when handling alcohol.

Usually, you’d have a friend by your side, but this bar wasn’t that far of a walk from your apartment. It would almost be quite the resource, but you rarely tended to turn to drink.

Except that is, until you found out that your boyfriend of five years cheated on you. You were crushed, obviously, but you had almost seen this coming. Or maybe you didn’t; it just didn’t seem impossible for him to pull this act on you.

After booking a job as a cast member on the thirty-eighth season of Saturday Night Live, you often found yourself becoming busier than you had ever been. You would frequently come home late and not have enough time for your partner as you had imagined.

Except, Justin had been so understanding. Why wouldn’t he? He was a surgeon at Lenox Hill and would always take night shifts to keep things afloat.

He was charming, kind, and always knew how to surprise you. You could still picture your future wedding and marriage so vividly; he was the man of your dreams, but was he really?

He probably wasn’t when you had found him fucking a random girl senseless in your shared bedroom. That’s beside the point, everything felt floaty and fuzzy, and the bartender looked concerned.

“Want me to call someone for you?” she suggested as she leaned against the counter. One hand flipping a pen, the other sneaking up to the phone beside her on the wall.

Justi-no, just no, you stopped yourself quickly.

You swallowed carefully, looking at her with an emotion swirling within you that you couldn’t quite place. She cocked an eyebrow, just waiting for your answer to flop into her fingertips.

“His name is, um, he’s a friend. Just a friend, yeah, sure. Okay, hmph. His number is-,”

—

He had just gotten to bed finally, or so he had thought, almost perfecting not focusing on the way his breathing was lulling him to sleep. It was way too late for this anyway; he would definitely make a pick me up at the local joe’s the next morning.

That was until he heard a faint buzzing come from his bedside table; he rubbed his eyes with annoyance. At this hour, who the hell was disrupting him was his first thought, that was until he saw an odd number.

Seth had always told him not to accept calls like these, but something didn’t sit right. Hopefully, he was wrong; it could very well be someone ‘butt-dialing’ him.

“Hello?” damn, he sounded gruff, was this new?

“Hi, I’m here with Y/N; she’s currently here with me at April’s Brewery on 16 W 51st street. It’s getting rather late, and we are closing up soon. She said I should call you, Bill, right?” she confirmed, the information twisting around in his drowsy mind.

“Oh, um, yeah, I am. Is Y/N, okay? I mean, yeah, I’m coming as soon as possible.” he stammered, hanging up before she could even speak, rushing out the door, and calling forth a taxicab.

Why did Y/N pick him of all people? He was him, and you were well you! He didn’t even think you were even that close, well, maybe you were. Things between you and him were pretty nice; you could make him laugh like no other. You made his days better, even if it was with something small and not that big in retrospect.

Except then again, wasn’t this Jus-whoever’s job? Your boyfriend’s job to pick you up? Why were you even drinking in the first place? He had many questions.

The cab pulled to a halt, and he paid the necessary change. Giving the driver a tight-lipped smile, he hopped out and made his way into the destination he was given.

The bar looked reasonably deserted at this point. Still, there you sat looking absolutely crushed, or what appeared that way, nursing what seemed to be a glass of something that didn’t quite look like water. Lost in some conversation with the women who he assumed had called him, her eyes catching him in what looked to be a sense of relief.

She had whispered something to you, but instantly you poked your head up. Immediately locking eyes with him, you pulled yourself up, an excited grin dashing upon your lips.

“You came, oh Billy!” you squealed, rushing over to him before slipping, his arms rushing over to hold you up.

Billy? he thought with much amusement and, of course, concern.

“Woah Y/N, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this...” he drew on his words, your head tilting in confusion.

“I’ve never seen you this drunk,” he admitted finally only to have you burst into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, Billy, you are so fucking funny. Do you know that? You make me laugh so much, like a crazy amount. God, you are so cute!” His eyes widened. Were you cheating? No, no, he couldn’t do this.

“Y/N, sweetie.” he began while sliding the bartender a couple twenties, leading you out the door. Steering the two of you to a nearby pocket of space between the bar and a convenience store.

“You have a boyfriend, I sincerely hope you didn’t forget,” he stated only to see you deflate at the thought.

“No, not anymore, or at least I don’t think so.” you cried the tears coming down faster than he could’ve imagined.

Wait, really? He sure as hell didn’t see this coming; you two had been together for what had appeared to be a long time. Judging by your conversations at work, things seemed to be fine between you two, rusty, but okay.

You shifted your feet, looking anywhere but him, he gulped, taking hold of your quivering hands that tugged at each finger anxiously. Eyes widening, you looked up at him, something settling in your eyes that he couldn’t quite process.

He smiled softly, lifting up his thumb to wipe away your tear stained cheeks. That’s what friends did, right? You sniffed, pulling back a little farther.

“I don’t think I can go back home tonight; Justin cheated on me with someone from his work.” you huffed, feeling everything come back at full swing.

“Oh Y/N/N, come here,” he whispered, beckoning you into his arms. It absolutely crushed him to see you so....broken.

Slowly but surely, you fell into his arms and sobbed quietly. His hands rubbing soothing circles onto your back, whispering sweet nothings to you. Anything to help, god, he hoped he was helping.

“God, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” you choked out after a while, clearing your throat and pulling away from him.

His eyes darting between yours and the way your hands twitched anxiously. The sky now a deep violet speckled in navy clouds, stars peeking out from the city fog to illuminate your surroundings. The neon lights of the convenience store sitting behind you showing just how late it was. The way it hit you all at once, lighting up the way your cheeks were stained from your tears.

He had never really had a chance to tell you how beautiful you were. It wasn’t even like he was trying to start trouble; you just were.

Whether it was in weekly meetings, bright and early, the buzz of the day settling into the cast. He’d notice it, the way your lips curved into that gorgeous grin you always seemed to carry on you. The way you did your hair, how it complimented your features so effortlessly. How your eyes would filter in appreciation of everyone in the room, how you’d stop shortly at his. The crinkle in your eyes, a smile beaming at him, offering a little wink.

Mornings with you were never dull, or at least that’s what he thought. He always knew you were out of his reach, so his heart stayed far from him, like a buoy sinking up and back down into the waves of his consciousness, always there but never willing to commit.

Even now, in your current state, he was in awe of your beauty. Yet, it wasn’t polite to stare, and he had to make sure that you’d get some sleep and a cup of water and painkillers by your side the next morning.

“I have a spare bedroom. Honestly, it’s way too late, and I don’t mind it.” Bill gestured, trying to focus on any signs of protest that could erupt from you.

“O-okay,” you whispered in agreement, rubbing your eyes as fatigue started to settle in. A motion that Bill definitely didn’t miss while he looked you up and down.

He gave a toothy grin before motioning you to follow him, standing before the bustling streets of Manhattan. Even at night, cars buzzed and honked past at moderate speeds. His hand outstretched to catch the attention of taxis, one hand reaching out to take ahold of yours.

It felt nice when he touched your little hands slip into his somewhat larger grasp; it felt normal almost. God, he was such a freak, you just got cheated on. You were just friends, nothing else. Get it together, Hader.

A car pulled close to the curb, and within seconds the two of you settled in. He gave the address and buckled in. You looked rather comfy with your face smudged against the cab window.

He smiled softly, as slowly but surely, you fell asleep. The city blurring around the two of you, bright lights and street signs becoming one. He always admired New York City at night, the way it never really stopped moving. Despite the early hours of the morning, people still bustled amongst the streets.

It was still fairly early into his departure of Saturday Night Live; his face was familiar, but not quite famous like his other costars. He could walk the streets with ease and get stopped only a few times. He didn’t know how long it’d last, but he enjoyed the sense of invisibility he carried.

You, however, were admired by many. Bill could remember your first few days on set, those who were not married or dating setting bets on you. Hader often scoffed at the idea of winning your heart amongst his coworkers, you were a constellation, and he was light-years away. That is until you mentioned that you were dating some doctor, and the competition died down.

Yet every now and then, his stomach would grow a flutter, and his cheeks would blush when you’d lay your head on his shoulder, a familiar friendly feat you’d perform after long hours in 30 Rock. He hated that he crushed someone who was taken; he never once stopped hating himself for that.

The car halted to a stop, Hader’s apartment complex sitting right outside. He eyed the cash monitor for the second time that night. In an instant, he paid the acceptable amount, tipping the driver for good measure. Almost standing up before remembering how you had fallen asleep against the window.

He huffed anxiously, wondering how on earth he would do this. The driver was obviously tired and not pleased with the hold-up between his departure towards his own comfy mattress. Grabbing his stuff, he slipped out of his side before going around to opening your door.

Your figure slumping towards the pavement before he scooped you up in his arms. Internally cursing himself if you were to wake up, and want him to rid you of himself at once. Instead, you peeked one eye open, his body heaving anxiously. Y/E/C peeking up at him in dazed confusion, before murmuring something and nuzzling deeper into his hold.

It was a skill that he hadn’t perfected, getting someone into his house, without making much noise. Not to mention the fact that you were asleep in his arms, chest rising in perfect rhythm. He nudged the cab door closed and made his way up to his apartment door. Victoriously managing to slide his hand out from underneath you and into opening his front door.

Slipping into the building, he quietly kicked the door closed behind him. You only stirred, which promptly stopped him dead in his tracks, before continuing on towards the spare bedroom he owned.

Gently he laid you down onto the bed, your body curling up at the contact of the comfortable mattress. He smiled before digging around to place a blanket over you, fitting it, so you were well adjusted to sleeping.

His heart heavy and mind slowly beginning to beg for sleep, his feet padding towards the door of the guest bedroom. That is until he heard a rustle and a soft murmur escape your lips.

“What was that, Y/N? Did you say something?” he wondered aloud, his eyes trying to adjust towards the room now blanketed in darkness.

“It’s-just, I’m not used to sleeping alone anymore, you know? I’m so tired, though, could you stay until I fall asleep?” you admitted softly, playing with the sheet covers on top of you.

Bill’s eyes widened into the size of saucers; he didn’t see this coming. He shook his head before quickly nodding in your direction; you yawned without much thought and laid back, dozing off.

He stood there absolutely puzzled on what to do, except stare, which was definitely not inappropriate whatsoever. His eyes darting anywhere in the room, but you, he focused on an old rocking chair that his mother gave him when he first moved in.

It looked comfy enough. It would do, if that’s what you wanted, that’s what a friend would do. God, he hoped that’s what a friend would do in this case scenario.

The chair creaked noisily, and he cringed every single time until you stirred once again, thrusting your hand upward into the air. He sat puzzledly until your finger flicked up and down to signal him to join you.

He gulped, “please, Bill, just for tonight?” you said with a slight whimper.

Timidly he shoved the covers outward to create space, sliding into the bed, stiff as aboard. You couldn’t help but murmur something sleepily before rolling over beside him.

He froze, but he couldn’t stay awake forever. Your head now resting upon his chest, curling into his side, you smelled nice. He let you stay put before trying to get situated himself, sleep soon beginning to overtake him.

Friends totally did this, yep, of course, they did, Bill.

#@broadwayandnetflix #bill hader x reader #bill hader #fluff #bill hader x you #angst #alcohol #2020 #bill hader imagine #snl

182 notes · View notes

takingcourage · 3 years

Text

A Stroke of Serendipity

Pairing: Luke Harper x MC

Word Count: 1,850

Rating/Warnings: General; no warnings

Summary: During her first term at university, Helena discovers that there’s more to her housemate than meets the eye.

Note: I'm not usually one to write AUs, but @choicesficwriterscreations ’s post about Silly Love Stories crossed my dash and I couldn’t resist trying a few. This story was written to fulfill the the prompt of "Roommates/Neighbor,” and takes place in a modern setting.

Despite the chill in the air, it was unseasonably warm for November. For the first day in weeks, the lawn was cluttered with students choosing to linger in the sunlight for just a bit longer than necessary before heading inside for their lectures.

Making her way past the crowds, Helena unlocked her bike and mounted, finding equilibrium easily. She felt a tinge of shame with the memory of how daunting the task had seemed just weeks before. Keeping her coat out of the spokes and her backpack balanced had presented an unexpected challenge at the start of the term, and it had earned her more than one pitying glance from passersby.

Pumping the pedals, she picked up enough speed to glide over several lengths of sidewalk. Fellow students blurred as she moved past, their forms merging with her thoughts before they faded altogether, consumed by her ever-growing list of assignments.

When her estranged father had insisted on paying her way through university, she’d jumped at the opportunity -- goodness knew she didn’t want to work the till at Morrisons forever. At first, Vincent’s offer had seemed too good to be true. Nearing the end of her first term, however, reality was stripping away much of the mystique.

She gripped the handlebars a little tighter.

Being a student again was hard. Sharing a house with her brother and his roommates meant that the transition had been a little smoother, but being a first-year student in her twenties was complicated. Life away from Grovershire was complicated. Life without her mother was complicated...

How she wished sometimes that life could be simple again.

Helena pushed herself through the next turn, traveling quickly enough for the wind to leave a pleasant sting behind on her rosy cheeks.

At this time of the afternoon, their street was still quiet. Students weren’t back from classes, and most everyone else wouldn’t return home from work until evening. Helena coasted up to the curb, taking a quick glance at their windows in an effort to determine who might be home this early in the day. For all appearances, she had the house to herself.

With a sigh that had more to do with relief than exertion, she put her bike away and unlocked the side door. Time alone would be welcome.

As the doorknob clicked open, the strains of a violin floating through dispelled any notion of solitude, though her momentary disappointment was soon replaced by curiosity. Was someone playing Tosca?

She halted briefly, shaking off her deja vu to find eager curiosity in its wake. Slipping her shoes onto the mat, she proceeded up the stairs toward the lounge. In spite of her quiet footfalls, the music ceased as soon as she hit the first creak.

“Don’t stop!” she called out, dismay lending her a boldness she rarely showed.

After a pause, the aria resumed with steady conviction.

It wasn't her stepbrother or Annabelle, of that she was certain. She might not have learned everything there was to know about Edmund in the past year, but she did know that guitar was the only instrument he dabbled in. She was equally sure that the closet she and Annabelle shared didn’t house a violin case either. Ernest had rushed home the night before to deal with family matters, which left her with only one possible conclusion: Luke.

He was the roommate she knew the least, always so busy between his studies and his time in the lab that no one in the house saw very much of him. With a quirk of her lips, she decided it was entirely possible he could be a proficient musician without her knowing.

Her suspicions were confirmed as soon as she crested the stairs.

Violin still snug beneath his chin, he turned to face her slowly. Light streamed in from the window behind him, and Helena couldn’t help feeling that she’d stumbled upon something almost divine. Somewhere between the quality of the music and the intensity in his brow, she found herself enchanted.

She’d known he was attractive: that much had been obvious since the day she’d met him at her father’s home some months before. He was tall and broad shouldered, and his eyes were a mystery she’d been trying to puzzle out since their first meeting. Sometimes, they were honeyed gold; others, they seemed impossibly green. As she watched him now, they fell closed in concentration.

Helena’s breath caught before the final strains had begun to fade.

"I must have lost track of the time,” he started, lowering the instrument to his side as he addressed her. “I apologize."

"I'm back early.” She tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “The fire alarm went off in our building, and after twenty minutes on the lawn they decided to send us all home." She tried not to draw attention to the fact that her eyes kept drifting toward his long, elegant fingers as he worked to secure the violin in its case.

It had been months since they’d met: why wasn’t she used to the sight of him yet?

“I imagine you’ll be grateful for the time to study.”

Raising her eyes from the floor, she met his tentative smile with one of her own. “I am,” she agreed, shrugging her bag into the nearest chair. Though her studies were nothing rigorous compared to his own, she found herself grateful that he recognized her kindred spirit.

The click of the case snapped her back to reality. “Well, I won’t bother you."

With an accommodating nod, she turned away from him and toward the hall, but her mind lagged behind. Somehow, going upstairs to study wasn’t quite as appealing a prospect as it had been mere minutes before. "Actually, I think I’m going to make some coffee first,” she rushed before she could lose her nerve. “Would you want any if I did?"

"I'd like that."

"So," she began, attempting to stoke the conversation as she measured out the scoops of grounds. Somewhere between the second and third spoonful, she started to feel a little mischievous. "Do you always perform your concerts solo, or is that right reserved for Puccini?"

"You know Tosca?" he inquired, following her into the kitchen.

She smirked at the incredulity in his tone. “Not what you’d expect from a shopgirl from Grovershire, hmm?”

His face froze, and she immediately regretted the jest. “I didn’t mean to offend--”

“I'm joking. My mother loved listening to operas. I think I'd heard more arias by the time I started primary school than most of my classmates did by Year 10. There was always music playing somewhere in our flat."

“Ours too.”

They shared another small smile that left her feeling like the roof had opened and the sun was shining into their modest kitchen with full force.

“To answer your question...” he continued. “No, others suffered through my performances for years. Growing up, I think my family was sometimes sick of how much I played, though I always wondered if they hadn’t brought it on themselves by putting me in lessons. No one here signed on to hear it at all hours, so I mostly play when I’m alone.”

“I’m sorry I intruded, then.”

“I don’t mind. It was rather nice to have someone listen for a while.”

“Maybe you’ll play again for me sometime?”

“I’d like that very much.” He gave a quiet laugh, and she felt heat rush over the fullness of her cheeks.

Hiding her blush, she put the cabinet door between them and began peering onto the shelf for her favorite mug. Though she’d lived in this house for several weeks, this was the first time she’d spent more than a couple of minutes alone with Luke.

Not the first time you’ve wanted to, her conscience reminded, and she could feel the warmth returning to her cheeks with further thoughts of him. The man was driven and intelligent, studying biology on scholarship with the intent of becoming a veterinary surgeon. He was quiet, but had shown himself to be exceptionally generous and kind. If she wasn’t careful, the intrigue that had been building since they’d met could easily develop into full-blown infatuation.

“Do you play any instruments?” he broke in, handing her one of the spoons he'd withdrawn from a nearby drawer.

“Piano, but not in a very long time. Father doesn't have one, and we sold mum's a few years ago to pay for treatments."

As the reservoir bubbled noisily, she darted instinctively to the fridge, arm extended to retrieve the sugar bowl from the top. Luke beat her there, his height making short work of the task. Again, her attention was drawn to the way his long fingers splayed over the object. They were unmistakably musician’s hands: it was a wonder she’d never noticed it before.

“Thank you,” she intoned, wishing that her voice didn't sound quite so breathless.

“You’re welcome.” He placed the sugar on the countertop before stepping aside. “I’m sorry; I'm sure you must miss it.”

It took a moment for her to realize that he was still talking about playing piano.

“I wouldn't have much time for it now," she told him with a shrug, moving back to the coffee machine to pour them each a mug of the steaming liquid.

“My brother used to play. Mother keeps the piano in the front room in case he comes round, but he hasn't done anything with it in years.” He fell quiet for a moment, considering. “If I asked, I think she'd be willing to part with it for the next four years. There'd be room for it on that wall, next to the bookshelf." He indicated the space with his free hand.

Helena took a sip of coffee to disguise the fact that his offer had rendered her speechless. Fortunately, the shock of caffeine was just enough to restore her senses. “You’re very accommodating, Luke Harper. Quite the gentleman.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Not to me.” Hoping to prove her sincerity, she met his eyes, green with a vibrance that made her forget it was the middle of autumn. “I’m not planning to hold you to it, but I appreciate the offer.”

"It's no bother. Besides, I think she'd be glad to know it was being used." His voice lowered as he studied her face. “Would you play if if I brought it over?”

Helena's throat thickened. Much as she'd craved that next taste of coffee, it would be impossible to swallow now. As it was, she could barely manage a nod in response to his question.

Luke beamed, a wide, guileless smile that left her feeling as if her insides had been scooped out and replaced by the contents of her mug. "I'll ask when I talk to her Sunday.”

She was still fighting back the threat of tears when Edmund burst through the door, shattering the stillness that had descended between them. Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to mind the interruption overmuch.

Somehow, the last twenty minutes had felt more like home than anything since she’d moved in. As she exchanged one final smile with Luke before her brother joined them, she knew it wouldn’t be a foreign feeling for long.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #cfwc silly love stories #desire and decorum #sir luke harper #luke harper x mc

17 notes · View notes

strangerfictions · 4 years

Text

Book Recommendations (Billy Hargrove x Plus Size Reader)

Request: Can I request Billy Hargrove x plus size reader fic? Reader is shy and plus size and is always wearing bright patterned shirts/high waist jeans. She babysits her neighbour's kids who go to the swimming pool a lot. She hangs around the sidelines when she's at the pool, never getting in, just reading. Billy always tries to speak with her because he likes her. Fluff please! Sorry if you're not up for writing a plus size reader

Warnings: Lots of Fluff!

Words: 3045

A/N: Thanks to @morganofthecoves1 for this awesome request. I had a blast working on this! First fic back after a little bit of a hiatus! College has been crazy since mid-March and so I had to push writing to the sideline while I focused on my degree. I am now finished the second year of my degree and honestly, I can't believe it but I loved this request so much so I knew I had to work on this for my first fic back! Also, I want to start writing more plus size fics as I am plus size and love plus size fics so damn much! If anyone has requests for them let me know!

It was mid-July and the sun had been beating down on Hawkins for months now. You never got used to the heat during this time of year but you still had to work. Every year since Freshman year you had babysat your neighbour's kids and despite this being your final summer before college this year was no different. You didn’t mind because all you had to do was bring them to the pool every day and they were happy.

It was the hottest day of the year and so you knew bringing the kids to the pool was the best idea. You packed your bag to include sun cream, money, and two books to read by the side of the pool. You never really got into the pool as you never really felt comfortable in a bikini or swimsuit, especially around the girls of Hawkins who were considered beautiful because they were thin. It wasn’t that you weren’t confident because you were confident the majority of the time but having so little on in front of so many people made you feel vulnerable in a way. You knew you would eventually have to give in but not today.

You left the house early that morning wearing your usual attire. You loved the recent trend of colourful shirts and so you have been going out and buying them every couple of weeks. You now had an entire collection that you loved. You went for a tropical print shirt along with your blue high waisted jeans.

After you got the send-off from your neighbours you walked the kids to the pool for opening time. It was always best to get there for opening time because it got very busy very quickly. It didn’t take too long to get to the pool as you and the kids talked about random things on the way there. However, you were a bit early and so you all had to stand around in the little shade outside the gates of the pool.

As the opening time came nearer more and more people began to appear outside the pool. Before long you saw the familiar mullet-wearing lifeguard walk towards the gate. You and Billy had always been on different social scales. He was popular and you just about existed in high school. Despite this Billy had been trying to talk to you for weeks now but you were way too shy to say more than two words to him. You watch as he opens the gate allowing people into the pool. The kids run in front of you to get your usual spot near the back of the pool. Both you and Billy yell at them to stop running at the same time causing you both to smile at each other.

“Morning Y/N!” Billy smiles at you as you walk past him.

“Good Morning Billy” you say quietly as you walk past him and over to where the kids have set up for the day.

The day went by as it usually did, hot and slow. It was mid-afternoon and you were sat at the edge of the pool with your feet dangling in while reading your book. It wasn’t like there was much for you to do by the pool and reading was something you enjoyed.

You could feel a shadow looming over you and you knew who it was. Every day Billy will approach you and ask you what you are reading today you will answer with as little words as possible and he will go back to his post for the rest of the day.

“So what are you reading today Y/N?” You look up from your book as Billy crouches beside you.

“Emma by Jane Austen” You say shyly looking back down at the pages.

“You know I’d love to read more classics but I just can never get into them they are way too wordy you know” You look away from your book and back at Billy surprised.

“You like to read?” You ask shifting a little as you feel the hot tiles beneath your jeans.

“Sometimes, when I get the chance. What would you recommend to start with?”

“Something small maybe. Ease yourself into it. I loved The Great Gatsby, it’s one of my favourites, so maybe that would be a good start?” You suggest as Billy stands up.

“Great thanks! I’ll stop by the bookstore later and pick up a copy. I’ll let you know how it goes.” He winks at you and walks back to his post. You glance around and spot some of the older women staring at you. That was all you needed.

The rest of the day went by quietly. You finished reading ‘Emma’ and spent the rest of the day talking to the kids who’s friends had left early that day. You got home around nine the night and spent the night lying in bed thinking about Billy and the fact that he likes to read. You always found stereotypes weird but one glance at Billy and you would think he would never have touched a book in his life. Although he had done well in English class so you weren’t all that surprised.

The next morning followed the same routine. Like clockwork, the same people turned up at the pool and just before opening Billy’s head emerged from the staff room. This time he was carrying something in his hand. The familiar blue cover standing out to you. He’s been reading ‘The Great Gatsby’ you thought to yourself as you pushed the kids forward so they could get your usual spot.

As soon as Billy opens the gates everyone dashes for their usual spots but you take your time knowing that the kids will save your spot.

“Morning Y/N” Billy says as you walk through the gates

“Morning. Enjoying Gatsby?” You stop beside him to catch his answer.

“You know what I didn’t think I would enjoy it all that much because you know it’s the twenties how great could it be but I am loving it!” He beams at you.

“Oh great, I’m glad you are enjoying it so much! Well, I guess I’ll see you later” You say turning around and walking towards the kids.

After setting up you sit down on the edge of the pool and sit there for the rest of the day reading.

After a few hours, the familiar shadow appears over you. A little earlier than usual you thought to yourself. Billy crouches down beside you holding his book.

“So, I just finished it…and I did not expect it to go the way it did. Thank you for recommending it!” Billy says as you turn towards him

“Oh yeah, the ending is pretty crazy. I think that’s why I loved it so much. I’m glad I could help!” You smile folding your book across your knee, so it doesn’t fall into the pool.

“Got any more recommendations for me?” He asks

“Have you tried Gothic fiction before?” You ask to see what he is really into.

“Not really. I’ve heard good things though”

“Okay, I would say start with something like Dracula by Bram Stoker or Frankenstein by Mary Shelly” You suggest as you Billy takes in the info.

“Cool. I’ll check them out. I have a question for you?” Billy stands up getting uncomfortable from crouching

“Uhm sure!” You say not knowing where this was going especially since it was Billy.

“Why don’t you get into the pool?” He asks as you squint at him through the sun.

“No reason I just prefer being able to read on the edge and keep an eye on the kids” you lie to him. You can tell that he does not believe you but either way, he accepts it as an answer.

“Alright then well, I will let you continue. See you later.” You watch as Billy walks back to his post knowing that you are being stared at by the older women on the other side of the pool.

The next week goes by similar to this. You now stop at the gate to ask Billy how he is getting on with the book you recommended. He tells gives you his initial opinion and you go to your usual spot. Once he is finished, he will let you know by crouching beside you and talking about it with you for a few minutes and then you both go about your day.

Since you recommend ‘The Great Gatsby’ Billy has now read Dracula, Frankenstein, Moby Dick, The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Scarlett Letter, Animal Farm and Pride and Prejudice. You were enjoying talking to him about books. You even let him borrow some and that was something you rarely did! This little routine with Billy went on until the end of Summer. You knew it was going to happen, but you weren’t looking forward to having to give one last recommendation.

You were standing in your usual spot of the kids when you spot Billy coming to open the gates. The kids inch forward so they can make the most out of the last day of summer but you hang back letting the others in Infront of you. You walk in behind a group of older ladies who had stopped to flirt with Billy. You hung back behind them trying to remain as invisible as possible. Billy noticed you standing back and tried to get through the conversation with the women as quickly as he could. You watch as he gets a little irritated as the women keep talking.

“Sorry ladies I wish I could stand around chatting all day but I need to get to my post!” You watch as they walk away and Billy smiles at you.

“Hey sorry I didn’t know how to let them down lightly”

“It's alright. Just wanted to see what you thought of Wuthering Heights?” You ask fumbling with your fingers

“I went into it with an open mind but fuck it was bad. It was all so bad. I see what you mean now!” You both laugh knowing how bad you both thought of the book.

“Right! I never understood why so many people liked it. I guess in a sick way it's romantic but that’s a stretch” You say laughing with Billy. You look over to the kids to make sure they are doing okay but you then spot that you are getting evil looks from Billy’s admirers.

“We better walk towards my post before something turns nasty” Billy smiles at you as you both begin to walk towards the back of the pool.

“Thanks for helping me out by the way! It’s not often I get to talk to anyone about reading because…well, I’m sure you get it” Billy says quietly looking down at the ground.

“It’s cool. It’s something I enjoy and if I get to help someone out with recommendations then even better!”

“So, I’m guessing you are going to college soon?” He asks as he stops beside his chair leaning up against the frame.

“I’m leaving tomorrow. It’s going to be so strange leaving all of this behind” You say sadly shuffling on your feet as the heat burns through your shoes.

“What time do you leave tomorrow?” You look at Billy suspiciously

“I think we leave at about midday…Why?” You ask still giving Billy a suspicious look.

“Perfect! I need you to meet me here tomorrow morning just before opening time” You open your mouth to protest.

“Don’t question it just meet me around the back” He argues back at you

“Fine, I guess I’ll see you here tomorrow morning” You say walking away smiling to yourself.

The next day arrives faster than you would have hoped for. You weren’t ready to say goodbye to Hawkins just yet but NYU was now your home for the foreseeable future. You got up super early and finished packing up the last few things into your dad's car. You told your parents that you wanted to go for one last walk before leaving and so at eight-thirty you left your house and walked the same route you had been so used to walking for the past four years except you now knew that this would be that last time for a while and as you got closer to the pool your emotions began to catch up with you. You had to stop so you could hype yourself up. You knew you would more than likely be back next summer so after a few minutes of hyping yourself up and telling yourself over and over that you would be back you continued down to the pool.

Once you got to the pool you walked around the back to find Billy sitting on a wall cigarette in hand.

“Hi” you call over to get his attention

“Oh hey! I thought maybe you had decided not to show up.” He says throwing his cigarette on the ground and stomping on it.

“Oh yeah sorry, I had to stop for a few minutes…It’s weird knowing I won't see this place again until next summer” You say looking down at the ground embarrassed.

“Yeah, I get it. I was like that when we moved from California. It’s not a fun time but I’m sure you will fit in up in NYU.”

“Well, it’s not like I fit in here…anyways why am I meeting you in the sketchiest part of the pool?”

“Well funny you should ask! I wanted to thank you somewhere that wasn’t going to have onlookers and well the back of the pool never has onlookers so here we are”

“Thank me? For What?” You ask sitting down next to him on the wall.

“For the book recommendations and for talking to me about books. I always feel awkward reading but seeing you read at the pool gave me a little bit of confidence to do it so yeah thanks” With that Billy pulls out something wrapped in brown paper and tied with ribbon and hands it to you.

“I didn’t wrap it Max did.” Billy says as you take from him

“Billy you didn’t have to get me anything you literally could have just said thanks and went our separate ways and I wouldn’t have minded” You said as you slowly unwrapped the ribbon

“Yeah well, I don’t want to go our separate ways. You’ve been a great friend and I genuinely have had such a great time getting to know you the past few months so I would hope that we can stay in touch” You unwrap the brown paper to reveal a limited edition copy of ‘The Great Gatsby’.

“Oh wow. You didn’t have to Billy! I don’t think I can accept this honestly”

“Why did I know you were going to do that! You’re way too humble Y/N just take the damn book, please! I remembered when you recommended it to me you said it was one of your favourite books and well I saw it in the book store and thought you might like it so please just take it!” Billy pleads with you as you smile at him

“That’s sentimental and sweet thank you! I had planned on giving you something but don’t expect it to be something as impressive!” You take your backpack off your back and rummage and grab something out of it. You hand a book flipped over to Billy along with a fancy envelope.

“Okay so I didn’t have wrapping paper, but I saw this and thought you had to read it. It’s not your style at all but I’m sure it sparked something in you when you started talking to me” He flipped the book over to find that you had given him a copy of Emma by Jane Austen.

“Also there is a slip of paper in the envelope that lists about 356 books that I would recommend. Not all of them are classics but I think you will enjoy most of them. Also, there’s a library card in there you should check that out sometime…unless that’s too uncool for you.” You say laughing

“Wow…I didn’t expect anything from you all things considering. I guess we had a similar idea. Thank you I’m very much looking forward to reading this and all of the other books you have recommended. Who knew books could bring people together” You both laugh as you stand up.

“I better go. I still have a few more things to pack up before we leave this afternoon” You didn’t want to leave but you knew you had to

“Yeah of course. You better stay in contact though!” Billy says standing up in front of you.

“Obviously. I need to know what you think of all of the books you read from the list!” You both stand looking at each other awkwardly.

“I don’t want to leave. I know I have to but if I leave I may not ever come back again and that scares me” You say trying not to cry.

“It’s alright it’s time for you to move on and start your life elsewhere. You can’t stay in Hawkins all your life no matter how much you want to.” You feel a tear slide down your face and then all of a sudden you are fully crying. Billy walks towards you and pulls you into a hug.

“Jesus Y/N I didn’t think you were a crier” You eventually stop crying and pull away from Billy

“Sorry I don’t know why I am so emotional today it’s stupid because I’ll probably be back next summer and still have to babysit and do the usual summer activities but I just feel weird leaving” You felt stupid for how you were feeling but you also knew it was normal.

“How about I walk you back to your house that way you will be where you need to be and we can continue to talk?” Billy suggests

“Yeah, that would be great!” you say happily turning to begin walking out of the pool.

You both begin to walk towards your house and spend the entire time talking about books and you almost forget that you are leaving in a few hours.

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

Tag List: If you want to be added to any of my future posts then click here to be sent to the google form!

@an-antisocial-writer @charmed-asylum @takemepedropascal @technolilly @multifandomgirl16 @dreamin-of-dacre @1998–js

183 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

*DASHES INTO THE ROOM, STRANGELY PHYSICAL HEARTS SPILLING OUT OF MY ARMS*

I HEARD ASH NEEDED LOVE TODAY AND I’M HERE TO TELL YOU 25 REASONS YOU ARE INCREDIBLE BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE IT. SO HERE WE GO, IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER, 25 SUPER COOL AWESOME ASH THINGS THAT MAKE MY DAY BRIGHTER

1) your blog name is just!!! Really cool!!! To this day, I don’t know why, it’s just a daily source of giddiness. Love me a blog with a really cool play on word name and hey howdy hey look what we got here, a super cool blog with a super cool name

2) you are so amazingly kind??? And incredibly involved with your readers??? You are the sort of writer I thought existed when I was a smol sheltered bean and lo and behold one of my first outings I find a super awesome cool and interactive writer who cares??? So much about what she’s putting out into the world, and how it affects others??? You are both an inspiration and a gift??

3) thanksgiving lives in my head rent free, day after day, minute after minute. Catch me sweeping up popcorn at work and all of a sudden my brain is starting my cinematic presentation of stuff being spooned onto a pitifully empty plate, and the warmth of the holidays being stolen away by the things that lurk in grey eyes :)

4) you and your blog have (has? Grammar. Bleh) been such a source of wisdom, and it’s just wonderful. I know I can’t be the only one. You share so many wonderful resources, and you *care* so much I just. Yeah. You’re incredible. I cannot even begin to explain how much I’ve benefited from running across this wonderful place.

5) I cannot speak about the amazing things that comprise ash without going absolutely bonkers about your w r i t i n g. I just. You are so good at layering meaning upon meaning upon meaning into your works, until they become this beautiful, colorful sedimentary formation of gorgeous intent and heartbreaking subtext.

6) and beyond just subtext, IMAGERY, ASH. IMAGERY. I COULD WANDER DOWN YOUR SPRAWLING CORRIDORS OF DESCRIPTION FOR HOURS. GET LOST IN ALL THE LITTLE NOOKS AND CRANNIES WHERE DETAILS LIE AND MY HEART GOES TO BE FULL AS WELL AS TO SHATTER

7) just about any time I’m up early I see a happy little green discord bubble that makes my heart go ☀️❤️ and I’m not a morning person, but it always puts me in a happy mood to start my day

8) hello random point here!! Just for me to say you’re amazing and I love you!! I’m allowed to do that cause I made the rules :P

9) you are taking a break!!! A well deserved, wonderful break to rest the ash head!!!!! Take care of the ash brain!!! For inside it are many wonderful things!!! Many amazing gifts to this world that you bless us with!!! Take care of the ash!!!

10) now I will sing a song: *clears throat* OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH HOW I LOVE THE ASH OC’S, THE ASH OC’S, THE ASH OC’S! HOW I LOVE THE ASH OC’S THAT BREAK MY HEART IN TWO

11) you were the first whump writer I ever really came into contact with! That’s not to say I hadn’t read whump before, but I had never interacted with anyone before. And nervous little me stuck my head in and you went HELLO WELCOME WE’RE ALL VERY FRIENDLY HERE HAVE A SLICE OF HEARTACHE PIE AND JOIN THE FUN and I cannot thank you enough for that

12) your profile picture. Please. It gives me so much serotonin

13) stop I’m already gay. This comes with no context but it doesn’t even need it. You know who this is about.

14) Chris owns my entire heart and also my soul 🥺 so does Kauri, come to think of it 🥺 and Jake 🥺 and Krista 🥺 and-

15) I FINISHED THE BAD ARC RECENTLY AND HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME. HOW DARE YOU DO SUCH A FANTASTIC JOB RIPPING MY HEART TO PIECES IN SUCH A BRILLIANT MANNER. HOW DARE YOU MAKE SOMETHING SO gOOD HURT SO BAD. HOW DARE-

16) Teach me to write pls you are a goddess of prose and I bow at your altar

17) HEY GUESS WHAT IT’S ANOTHER RANDOM BLURB WHERE I JUMP IN AND REMIND YOU THAT I LOVE YOU IN CASE YOU FORGOT WHAT THIS WAS ALL ABOUT! YOU ARE FANTASTIC! YOU ARE SPLENDED! KIND! IMPORTANT! TRULY MAGNIFICENT!

18) never has someone ever managed to make me so worked up over a roomba, I swear to god I am more invested in Kiera’s well-being than I am in my own, PLEASE TELL ME MY FUNKY LITTLE VACUUM MAKES IT

19) Vincent! Shield! Breaks! My! Heart! Someone! Please! Help! Him! For! The! Love! Of! God! Please! Just that whole...kauri’s whole....and Owen and....😭 you have such good concepts and they break me to pieces and the (minimal though it is) comfort stitches it back together and ASHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

20) five more left! Five more left! Cause I can only fit 25 in! But there is! so much more! About the Ash! Of that I’m sure! Look out. Here comes the Ash love!

21) this is specifically a me thing, but in following some of the discourse that passes through your blog, I have learned a *lot* about the world, and about myself. I won’t give specifics, but you actually encouraged me to talk with someone, and secure a diagnosis that I’ve been holding off on for a long time. And it has opened up so many pathways, and helped me see the world in such a different light and I just. I can never really thank you enough for that?

22) I can never get enough of how amazing you are at flipping the usual narrative on its head, and drawing out such crucially important morals from it? God I just. Ash

23) you’re still here! You’re still going! The world is a crazy place, and the internet even crazier, but look at you! You’re here! In spite of it all, it’s still you! And I thank my lucky stars every day for it!

24) this is just a fun fact but you are one of (5) blogs I keep post notifications on for, constantly. Tumblr and I are very fickle friends, but I cannot tell you how much it gives me a little rush of glee (or terror or sorrow or fear depending on the content) whenever I get that little banner pop up on my phone and it says ASHINTHEAIRLIKESNOW POSTED:

25) Number twenty five is simply, truthfully, and completely that you are Ash! You are wonderful, and brilliant, and a light in a world that gets pretty dim, every now and then. Even when your light feels a little grey, never let it go out ❤️ you are loved, and you are so very special, and you deserve tenfold of the goodness you put out.

ANYWAY, IN CONCLUSION: WE LOVE YOU TO THE MOON AND BACK ASH!!!!!

Anon, I have no response that can possibly match what I was sent here. This was delightful and it made me feel the same way I felt when I first saw the ‘boom da yada’ commercial for the Discovery channel, which is to say... awesome. Thank youuuuuu for this list!

#also sorry I didn't reply right away I went to bed I think right as this came in and stopped checking my inbox #eeeeeee #my anons are the best

18 notes · View notes

iam93percentstardust · 4 years

Note

I'm bombarding you with those prompts, so I fully understand if you just ignore all those you don't like, lol. Would WinterIronFalcon be an OT3 you're intrested in writing? Some established WinterFalcon with Tony pining helplessly after them, not believeing he could have a chance? With a dash of angst in it? Thank you ♡

There isn’t much angst in this but there is hopeless pining so yay?

Also on ao3 here

“Share Bear, it’s not fair,” Tony whines into the phone.

“What isn’t?” his cousin asks, sounding patient but also kind of amused. He takes the phone away from his ear and squints at it. Is she making fun of him? She probably is, Sharon always makes fun of him. She’s mean like that; he’s pretty sure she gets it from Natasha.

“They’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t stand it.”

“Oh. Them again. Seriously Tony, didn’t you used to have better taste?”

“Excuse you,” he says, offended. “My taste is perfect.”

“They think arguing is foreplay.”

“It’s bickering! And it’s cute!”

“Gross,” Sharon says cheerfully.

“God hates me,” Tony says dramatically, flinging his hand over his eyes. “That’s why he cursed me to work with two such beautiful humans who are already dating each other.”

“Tony—”

“I know Bucky stays up to date with the fandom,” he continues, going a little quieter. “He’s gotta know that tons of people ship the three of us. But he doesn’t say anything about it. Share Bear, why doesn’t he say anything?”

“Probably because for every person who ships all three of you, there’s twice as many who ship just you and him,” she admits. “I know that if someone were shipping Maria and Nat and ignoring that I even exist, I’d be pretty upset.”

“Yeah,” he says glumly.

“What’re you filming today anyway?” she asks.

“True Crime. We were supposed to be doing an episode of Supernatural at the Odinson Mystery House, you know, over in Norway where the son found out he was adopted and then got super into Norse mythology and supposedly disappeared into a rainbow?”

“Oh yeah, that guy was crazy.”

“Wasn’t,” Tony insist stubbornly. “There are three different eyewitnesses and they all saw the same thing.”

“All three eyewitnesses tested positive for meth.”

“It was trace amounts and ruled irrelevant to the case. Anyway, there’s some sort of blizzard so our flight got canceled. We figured we’d get a jump on this season’s True Crime episodes instead.”

“What are you doing this week?”

He scowls into the phone. “Fandom episode. They voted for Captain America.”

He can practically hear Sharon wince. “I’m sorry. That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, not least because both of them know exactly what happened to Captain America. He was recovered from the Arctic back in the 50s and went on to live a very happy and fulfilling life with Aunt Peggy. But that’s a very closely guarded state secret; the U.S. government can’t let it get out that Steve Rogers survived nearly a decade in the ice. Technically, Tony and Sharon aren’t even supposed to know but Aunt Peggy had insisted she be allowed to tell them after she took custody of Sharon and Tony moved out of Howard’s and into her home. It’s kind of cool actually, knowing that Uncle Steve is really Captain America. He’s a pretty great guy. It just kind of sucks that he can’t tell anyone about it and now he has to do a whole episode about it when everyone knows he’s a shitty liar.

He’d talked it over with Uncle Steve and Aunt Peggy when the results of the vote had first come in. Aunt Peggy’s advice had been to act more manic than usual, throw even more outlandish theories into the mix, and really make this episode about the banter between him and Bucky. “Direct their attention away from Steve,” she’d said. “They’re already going to be looking at you. Just make sure they’re doing it for the wrong reason.”

He kind of wants to kiss Bucky. That would definitely draw attention away from the episode. But that’s not fair to either Bucky or Sam, who are very happy with their relationship and don’t need a homewrecker like Tony throwing a spanner into the mix.

“Good luck,” Sharon tells him before they hang up. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Wow, thanks,” he mutters but she’s already gone.

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty webseries about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

Now they have a fandom and merchandise and actual fanfiction written about them, which is the craziest thing. They both have several often-quoted gifs floating around the Internet and Bucky has somehow become the poster child for being unimpressed by literally everything (he actually makes some of the best faces when something genuinely scary happens but they always end up editing those parts out—he has an image to maintain after all).

They brought Sam on once they started gaining in popularity. Tony, by that point, already had a pretty well-established crush on Bucky. He’d even thought that he had a chance with his co-host, small as it may be, and at first, it hadn’t seemed like Sam was going to change anything. He and Bucky argued all the time so Tony had been absolutely stunned when he’d stumbled upon them making out like it was the end of the world.

They had just finished filming their second season. Sam had suggested going out to a local bar. He’d suggested it for all three of them but Tony had, inexplicably, felt like a third wheel all night as Sam and Bucky bickered. At one point, Sam had disappeared off to the restroom and a couple minutes later, Bucky had followed him. Tony doesn’t know how long he had sat there waiting for them but he’d eventually gone looking for them only to find Sam pressing Bucky up against a wall.

And that had been that.

Three years later, Sam and Bucky are still going strong, Tony is as smitten with Sam as he is with Bucky despite knowing how hopeless both crushes are, and the fandom seems convinced to either write Sam out of Tony and Bucky’s relationship or write Tony into Sam and Bucky’s. He wishes they would stop. He stays pretty up to date with the fandom as well and they have all these meta posts about the way Bucky looks at him or something. It just keeps giving him hope but, well, it’s been three years. If Bucky wanted him, or if Sam did for that matter, they would have done something long ago.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Sam asks him as they’re setting up.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” He avoids meeting Sam’s eyes, focusing instead on adding creamer to the coffee. Marvels had presented them with these mugs last year to congratulate them on four years of Unsolved. They’ve got their most iconic quotes printed on them, Bucky’s with “Obviously I killed JFK” and Tony’s with “I’m the dramatic bitch your mom warned you about.” Sam has one too with his one and only line in the entire show printed on it (“Why did I agree to work with you?”) but since he’s always behind the camera, he doesn’t have to use the same mug for each episode.

“You just seem a little off.” The worst part is that Sam genuinely looks concerned. If they didn’t care about him, he thinks his crush might be easier to manage but they do because they’re just nice guys like that. “I know you weren’t too thrilled when we announced this week’s case.”

“Howard worked with him, practically hero-worshipped the damn guy. Of course, I’m not excited.”

Sam winces. They know all about Tony’s shitty relationship with Howard after his dad called Marvels furious that his son was hosting a webseries instead of coming home to grovel at his feet and take over the business. The whole team had been brought in to listen as Fury tried to placate him. By the end, Bucky had been furious on Tony’s behalf and Sam had berated Fury for twenty minutes for making Tony listen to the vitriol his dad had spewed. It had cemented his crush on Sam, then just a passing fancy, into something real and permanent.

“Seriously, Sam, I’m fine. Might be a little off today but I would have said if I didn’t think I could do it.”

Sam doesn’t look convinced but he agrees anyway. Tony sits down next to Bucky and passes him his mug. Bucky shoots him a grin and murmurs, “Thanks, doll.”

Tony doesn’t blush but that’s only because he has five years of practice. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Sam counting them down and he turns to face the camera, settling his hands in front of him.

“This week on Marvels Unsolved True Crime and in celebration of our 100th episode,” he begins, “we asked you what you’d like us to investigate and you came back—”

“—overwhelmingly,” Bucky interjects.

“Many, many times,” Tony agrees, “with a topic near and dear to my own heart: Captain America.”

“That’s right,” Bucky says, sounding surprised though Bucky had been the first to point out that maybe they shouldn’t do this episode because of Tony’s connections to Project Rebirth. “Your dad helped turn Steve Rogers into Captain America, didn’t he?”

“And he never let me forget it!” Tony says cheerfully.

“One hundred episodes,” Bucky says slowly, enunciating each word. “Can you believe that, doll?”

Sometimes, he wonders why the fans ship them when Sam is right there. Other times, Bucky says things like this and he understands completely.

“Not even a little bit, Bucky Babe.” Okay, so maybe he doesn’t help.

“One hundred. The big one zero zero.”

“We tried to do something extra special and get Sam in front of the camera for you guys—”

“—so you could see what a hunk he is—”

“—but Sam said that he didn’t trust anyone else to film us properly—”

“—which makes sense because Tony? If you put him in the wrong light, he’s practically a gremlin—”

“Hey!”

“I’m just telling the facts.”

“Well, the facts are wrong.”

“They’re facts, sweet thing, they can’t be wrong.”

“Can too. Anyway, since Sam refuses to join us—”

“—and that just breaks my heart because Sam, he’s one of my favorite guys, you know?”

Tony pauses. It’s not like Bucky to say anything nice about Sam. Usually, it’s all good-natured insults and bickering. He must really be fed up with the Starkbucks shippers to say something like this when they’re still this early in the show.

“Only one of?” he asks curiously.

Bucky shoots him one of those filthy grins that their audience loves so much. “Well, it’s hard not to include you on that list,” he drawls.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to—

Damn it.

Whatever. It’s no big deal, that’s what editing is for. So what if Sam has never edited out one of Tony’s blushes yet? Maybe Tony will get lucky and he will this time.

“You know, I was actually named for Captain America’s sidekick?” Bucky asks, getting them back on track.

“Wow, that is deeply unfortunate,” Tony deadpans.

“Yeah, Dad’s a fanboy. His whole troop was pinned down and rescued by the two of them. He tells the story all the time—kind of like your dad.”

“Except my dad goes straight past into fanboy and directly into obsession territory.”

“…Fair enough.”

“Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Bucky shrugs and takes a sip out of his mug. “I’ve been inside your house. I’ve seen the Steve Rogers shrine. I’m not going to argue with you.”

Tony thinks about that for a moment. “It is kind of a shrine, isn’t it? Anyway, we’ve got some great stuff for you today. We’re going to crack open this cold case, show you some never-before-seen footage courtesy of my mom sneaking my dad’s old war tapes out of the mansion, and then we’ll talk a little bit about the theories out there.”

“How many of them are going to be ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible?”

Tony glares at him. “None of them. I have never once presented a ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible theory.”

“Right because alien abduction is a valid—”

“Aliens are real!”

“You said that crabs might have eaten Amelia Earheart!” Bucky shouts over him.

“It’s a valid theory!”

“I take it back, you’re not one of my favorite people anymore.”

“That really hurts me, deep inside,” Tony says sarcastically, trying to cover up that maybe that does send a small pang shooting through his chest. He likes the thought of being one of Bucky’s favorite people. He doesn’t want to lose that.

“How deep?” Bucky asks and winks.

“Very deep. Way, way deep down. Practically in my—”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his coffee. “Okay, that’s enough of that. Let’s get into the facts.”

“Hey, that’s my line!”

“With a missing plane and pilot and so much redaction in the files, we’re lucky to even have a name, let’s get into the theories.”

“Actually, wait, before we do that,” Bucky says, “I want to ask if you’ve ever noticed that your voice changes when you’re doing the voiceovers.”

“Wait, what?” Tony asks. He glances at him, to one of the cameras, then back to Bucky. “What do you mean?”

“You know, it gets all deeper like you’re trying to voice movie trailers or something.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Sure it does.”

Tony shakes his head. “There’s no way.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Told you!” Bucky says triumphantly.

“You’re such a child,” Tony sneers.

“Yeah, that’s why you like working with me so much.”

Behind the camera, Sam silently snickers and Tony glares at him before telling the camera, “If you’re watching, let us know in the comments. Is my apparent movie trailer voice okay or does it need to go like Bucky clearly thinks?”

Bucky goes paler. “Hey, wait, I didn’t say it had to go.”

“It was implied when you brought it up,” he argues.

“No!” Bucky insists. “I was just wondering if it was on purpose.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Aha!” Tony says triumphantly.

“Traitor,” Bucky mutters into his coffee.

Sam signs, “I’ll make it up to you when we get home tonight.”

“And that was more than I ever wanted to learn about Sam and Bucky’s love life,” Tony lies through his teeth. “Let’s get into the theories. I only have two for you today, one of which I think Bucky will particularly like.”

“Oh no.”

“Our first theory is that Steve Rogers died in a plane crash on December 16, 1944. Winter months in the Arctic are known to be particularly stormy. There would have been low visibility due to the high latitude and time of year and with the waters and surrounding land being well below freezing, it’s possible that, even if Captain Rogers survived the impact, he would have frozen to death in the stormy seas.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, that seems plausible.”

“In addition, Howard Stark, a known Captain America aficionado and the father of Marvels Unsolved’s best host—”

“You lie like a rug!” Bucky howls.

Tony snickers and then when Sam signs, “He’s really not,” bursts out into full-out laughter.

Once he’s recovered, he continues, “Howard Stark has spent the first fifty years after the crash of the Valkyrie and the last twenty funding searches in the Arctic in the hopes of recovering Captain Rogers’ body. He has found no evidence that Captain Rogers survived the crash although he did find part of the remains of the Valkyrie and has since stated that, ‘No human could have survived that crash.’”

The expeditions are a scam and have been since Howard first found the Valkyrie crash site and Uncle Steve along with it. He hadn’t been planning on continuing the expeditions—too costly, as he claims—but when Aunt Peggy had told him that Uncle Steve’s survival had to remain a secret, he’d kept them up for pretense’s sake.

Bucky is saying something about how it sucks that the first superhero is gone and when he finishes, Tony grins and says, “Then you’ll like our second theory.”

“Somehow, every time you say that, I end up completely hating it. Wonder why that is.”

“Our second theory is that Steve Rogers survived the crash and is still alive but cryogenically frozen in the ice. There—”

“Bullshit!”

Tony starts laughing but he tries to continue on over Bucky shouting that it’s complete nonsense. It’s hard and he knows that Sam will probably have to do some editing and maybe make Tony do some voiceover work in order to make the theory audible but he thinks he manages to do a pretty good job.

Bucky is pouting by the end of it, arms crossed over his chest. “What fucking bullshit,” he mutters.

“The supersoldier serum—” Tony starts to point out.

“Isn’t a miracle drug.”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“No, it just made him big and strong. It doesn’t just magically keep people alive when they should have died.”

And then they’re off into familiar territory, arguing about the merits of either theory. Tony’s actually feeling pretty good about himself, convinced that he’s doing a decent job of steering the conversation away of anything classified, right up until Bucky says, about halfway through the episode, “I’m surprised at you, Tony.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Surprised?”

“Usually, you have some absolutely batshit, off-the-walls crazy theory but these have actually been pretty normal for you.” He pauses and then adds for effect, “And you’re usually much better at your research than this.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on, even I know that there’s one more theory.”

He starts tapping at his chest nervously, almost wishing that he had a pair of sunglasses. Aunt Peggy always said that his lies are in his eyes, that they’re too expressive to hide the truth. When he was living with Howard, in the spotlight, he always had a pair of sunglasses to hide his eyes but he hasn’t wanted to use those since he moved out. He wishes he had them now.

“And what’s that?” he asks, feigning a casualness he doesn’t feel.

“That Steve Rogers lived and came out of the ice at some point and has been living out his life in anonymity.”

He barks out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t mention it because even I know that that theory is completely impossible.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” Sam nods agreeably. Bucky nods back at him and adds, “Even Sam agrees with me.”

“He’s your boyfriend, he’s practically required to.”

Both Sam and Bucky laugh at that one and yeah, okay, it was a pretty ridiculous statement. Anyone who knows them knows that being boyfriends is less likely to make them agree with each other.

“Look, Steve Rogers didn’t come out of the ice alive. Howard would have known for one thing and if you think, he could keep something like that quiet, then you don’t know him very well.”

“Maybe the government insisted it be a secret,” Bucky suggests, shrugging. “There have been plenty of people who have claimed over the last couple decades to be Captain America.”

Tony scoffs. “Oh come on, by that logic, anyone could be Captain America.”

“Maybe they could be.”

“No,” Tony says flatly. “It’s like that crazy conspiracy theory guy over on Reddit who’s convinced that Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Maybe Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Ooh do the butts match?” Tony says mockingly. “I mean, really, Bucky Babe, if we’re going off of lookalikes, then my fucking Uncle Steve is secretly really Steve Rogers, which is ridiculous because the guy’s like practically ancient and faints at the sight of blood in PG-13 movies.”

That sets off another round of arguing that lasts the rest of the episode until finally Tony wraps it up with, “Whether Steve Rogers died in 1944 or is still alive today is a mystery that will remain unsolved.”

They both pause for a moment to provide time for Sam to edit in the theme music and closing title. Usually, there would be some lighthearted bantering afterwards, maybe a joke about something they said earlier in the show. This time though, Bucky says thoughtfully, “The thing is, though, I’ve met your Uncle Steve—”

Tony goes cold.

“—and he really does kind of look like—”

Tony panics. That’s the only explanation that he has for declaring, “I’m done waiting,” reaching across the tables and grabbing hold of Bucky’s shirt, and yanking him forward to kiss him.

For a moment, Bucky is too startled to do anything but then he melts into Tony, mouth opening under his, tongue pushing forward to meet his. Bucky’s arms come around him, pulling him up and out of his chair and settling him into his lap. Tony makes a small greedy sound, swallowed by Bucky’s kiss, and then they’re both pulling away. Bucky’s lips are very red; Tony can’t stop staring at them even as he’s filled with dismay.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Why not?” Bucky demands.

“You—Sam—” He glances toward the camera but Sam isn’t standing there anymore. His heart drops into his stomach—has he just ruined Bucky and Sam’s relationship? But then he hears someone drop to their knees behind him and when he turns slightly, Sam’s fingers are on his chin, gently turning his head.

“How long?” Sam asks.

“How long what?”

“How long have we been wasting our time when we could have been kissing you instead?”

Three years, two months, and fifteen days. “Too long.”

Sam kisses him then, mouth gentler than Bucky’s but no less consuming. Bucky is a hard, hot line against his front; Sam is warm against his back and Tony? Tony loses himself in the storm that is the two of them, sparks shooting through him as Bucky’s hands find their way to his hips, as Sam’s tongue slips into his mouth, as Bucky whispers into his ear, “We’re not wasting any more time.”

Marvels Unsolved’s 100th episode shoots to their most watched, most liked video in less than a day and when asked, maybe the smallest handful of viewers could have said what it was about.

The day after it posts, only a week after it was filmed, Tony’s phone rings.

“Kill it with fire,” Sam says sleepily.

Tony, however, recognizes Aunt Peggy’s ringtone and he rolls over to grab it before Bucky can throw it at the wall. “Hello?” he asks groggily.

“Congratulations on not blowing Steve’s cover,” she says.

“Oh yeah,” Tony mutters. “Can I go back to bed now?”

“One more thing, duck.”

“What’s that?”

“Congratulations on the new boyfriends.”

#winterironfalcon #alle writes #alle answers #ooh boy this got long #if you like please consider reblogging #justsomeoneunordinary

74 notes · View notes

ladyzayinwonderland · 3 years

Note

Hiya Zay! So I noticed you posted about a Hadestown crossover and I wanted to ask you what you love about the musical! Favorite song? Favorite quality? What about the story/songs/costumes/characters/choreography/atmosphere/etc evokes Feelings? What is/are the primary mood(s) it inspires in you? Favorite headcanon or tender moment? Favorite line/lyric? (FYI I know you're not on here regularly and I RESPECT that, so if you want to answer, feel utterly free to take your time)... ❤️ Poly

Okay this has been a long time coming (I just didn’t realize how long it would take) but I finally have an answer! Thank you for your patience, dear Poly, and thank you for the super ask! I’m always willing to gush about Hadestown and it was so fun to have the opportunity ^_^

It is, however, a very long answer... it kinda got away from me in the process, hehe.

Favorite song: I feel like it might be cliché to say Wait for Me, but… all the versions of the song are gorgeous in different ways. If I had to be more original, then I would have to say We Raise Our Cups. I tear up every time I listen to it.

Favorite Quality: In the words of Hermes, “it’s a love song.” Orpheus loves Eurydice enough to go to hell to get her. Eurydice loves Orpheus enough to follow him out, though the way is hard. Hades loves Persephone, though he doesn’t know how to show it and is afraid to lose her. Persephone loves Hades enough to keep coming back to him to “try again”. I know that some of those loves are flawed, but they’re human. The beacon of that love and what it represents is important.

Story: I adore the inevitability of Hadestown. We know from the very beginning how this is going to end and yet we still hope that maybe it might just be different this time. We can’t help but hope. I think it speaks to the quality of the musical that it can still pull you in every time. Very cathartic.

Songs: My favorite thing about the songs is having been able to witness their growth and maturity from album to album! Themes, lyrics, and melodies have so many subtle changes that only seem to ring more true with time. It’s also so cool to see how it needed 10+ years to ruminate into the musical we have now. (But this might also be subjective to me because I found out about Hadestown when there was only a concept album, then kept up with each new development until my husband and I were able to see it on Broadway just after its premier.) And I’m very excited to see how the national tour turns out!!

Costumes: I love the tattered/steampunk/industrial look of the OBC show. But I also love what I’ve seen of the off-broadway show, the whimsical costumes of Nabiyah’s Eurydice and early Persephone’s dresses and boldness of Damon’s red jacket (bring! it! back!). The costumes definitely change the vibes of the show though, which is just fascinating to me. Mostly in Eurydice’s character, so…….

Characters: Eurydice. Has. Character. She is three-dimensional, rounded out, and can stand on her own. (this was always something I wished had been different with the myth) It’s interesting to note how her character is portrayed slightly differently depending on the show though? I can’t speak so much to Nabiyah’s portrayal because I didn’t see it, but the music makes me think that she’s harsher and angrier than Eva’s softer and more hopeful version. Orpheus too experiences subtle shifts between Damon and Reeve, specifically bolder to more naïve, which… I don’t hate, but I miss Damon’s Oprheus. I also love that all the main players experience change/growth! They all have agency!

Choreography: I love the transition between carefree in the world above to stark and sharp down below. Tbh Livin’ It Up On Top is not my ~fav~ choreography-wise, however, I recognize it’s a chance for the cast to let loose and have a good time, and it’s important to show just how different things are between the two settings. But the moment we are down below? Stellar. Sharp, synchronized movements that immediately remind you of the cogs of a machine. And I do love how the movements become more human by the time we get to If It’s True and Wait for Me II.

Bonus—the lamp choreo in Wait for Me. I sobbed when I saw them swinging and being used to light an otherwise dark space, leading Orpheus deeper underground.

Atmosphere: slight steampunk vibes my beloved. The off-broadway and Canadian productions’ Tree is something I wish had stayed for the OBC production. In addition to being gorgeous, it adds an element of nature to juxtapose to Hades’ cold, harshly lit, industrial underground. The OBC loses that little bit of earth by taking place in a train station bar. That said, I do enjoy the bar setting in parallel to Persephone’s dismal speakeasy down below. The presence of the band on stage, motley but involved in the story beyond just the music.

Inspired moods: I like angst, for better or for worse. I’ve always been drawn to Orpheus and Eurydice because of how tragic it is. I think it’s very Romantic™. Therefore, any incarnation or representation of the story is automatically my jam. I like that, regardless of how many times I have listened to the album, I still hold on to the hope that it might turn out differently. Just once. That hope is something so precious, something that still deserves to be passed on even if it’s been dashed to pieces. It’s never in vain, you can always try again.

(And, this probably isn’t as relevant, but I think there’s something to be said from a Christian perspective on the show as well. Orpheus is just a man and prone to doubt, as the show illustrates. He fails. We all fail. But there is hope found in One who literally can’t fail in bringing the lost back to Him, and that is an encouraging thought.)

Headcanon: I hold to this one interpretation of the tale that Orpheus looking back was a sign of love (though I don’t discount it being an act of doubt or weakness). I like to think that he was just wanted to see her again, wanted to make sure she made it too, but he was just a fraction of a moment too soon. It almost makes her “death” more tragic.

Tender Moment: my favorite tender moments from the show are 1) when Orpheus runs to the stage through the audience to reach Eurydice again in the second act. Mostly because I didn’t expect it. I was focused on her when a white and red blur with a guitar ran down the aisle to peek his head above the edge of the stage with a joyful “come home with me?” My Heart. 2) when Orpheus finishes Epic III and Hermes says “and you know what they did? They danced.” There is a twenty second bit of acoustic guitar and violin while Hades and Persephone dance for the first time together in ages. It wasn’t a grand or sweeping moment—it was just an old man stumbling through a rusty dance with his wife, and it felt genuine.

Favorite Line/Lyric: starting off strong with the first words of the show. There’s no introduction to Hadestown, no warning it’s about to start. Just Hermes sauntering onstage, looking you straight in the eye, and saying “Alright?” Then the band starts playing and the show begins. Incredible. Unprecedented. But also I weep for all of the Epics. Such solid poetry. So soft.

So anyway, those are my thoughts! They may be a little repetitive, but hopefully I conveyed myself decently enough. Thank you again, lovely!! <3

#I felt like I was writing an essay for the first time in years in the best way possible #my original notes were twice as long #written in the downtime between phone calls and emails at my job #so that's why it's so late in coming... but now it's here!!#Poly #zay answers things #Hadestown

5 notes · View notes

gothamcityneedsme · 3 years

Photo

I saw this bouncing around my dash and decided to fill it out myself for fun :) I decided to not double-list any games, and I tried to mix up the companies I used too so that the list would be more unique.

Long post, so I’m doing a readmore for my longwinded part lol.

(read more)

Favorite Game: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic 2: The Sith Lords - I could talk about this game forever. How it tears apart the Star Wars universe from within, how it creates a compelling story while challenging the usual themes, etc. I could talk for ages about the characters and how their motivations slot in place, and how this game lends itself to interpretation and analysis alongside roleplay. It’s just a wonderful game, one I deeply love and will always love. It’s a game that isn’t afraid to have you talk to other characters for twenty or thirty minutes at a time and honestly I’m always riveted at every line. This game deserves the cult fanbase it has, but I think there’s a lot the fanbase misses in appreciating this game. (Note...gameplay is a little janky and a community made mod restores a lot content that was cut before shipping-the game wasn’t properly finished).

Best Story: Fallout New Vegas - It’s the setting that makes the story here, and all the moving pieces and factions alongside the main conflict really make this game stand out. There’s so many little pieces to find along the way in the world and the way the main quest splits based on who you want in power feels important--and you are choosing a future for this whole region.

Favorite Art Style: The Witness - This game is peacefully wonderful with its visuals. There are wonderful nature scenes and nests of wires and panels spreading in various parts of the island that are fascinating to look at. The environment is half of the gameplay in most areas, so it’s important to look around even though exploration is not really the gameplay. You find puzzles in the world, even in nature, and it’s fascinating. The colors are bright and beautiful. There is even a map in the middle of the island inside of a lake that helps you track your progress if you notice it (it isn’t like a normal ‘map’).

Favorite Soundtrack: Shin Megami Tensei IV - I love video game soundtracks, but SMTIV is something special. The music booms in ways that make you really understand the atmosphere of the world, and there’s a great mix of different kinds of tracks for different places. I love the tracks for the other worlds you enter, and the themes of the different routes are done so well. Some of the music draws from past SMT games, but the remixes done for this game really are stunning to me, and there’s so many fantastic original tracks.

Hardest Game: I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - I love this game but I literally never touch it without a walkthrough, which is why it gets to be the hardest game on the list, despite being a point and click adventure game lol. Also just emotionally this game is challenging too, but I definitely mean this more in terms of getting a ‘perfect run’.

Funniest Game: The Stanley Parable - Trying to make this list has taught me that I don’t really play many ‘funny games’. I don’t know if a game where multiple endings demand that you kill yourself should count as a ‘funniest game’, but it is also a game where the narrator tells you to stare at a fern and memorize its features, so....it counts.

Game I Like that is Hated: RWBY Grimm Eclipse - I’ve been playing this game since it was in early access and have loved it the whole time. I find the gameplay soothing and fun, and I like playing the different characters. It’s a game I play to chill out and just enjoy some fun battle mechanics. It’s a fun game and I’ve spent over 100 hours in it, so I hope I like it, lol.

Game I Hate that is Liked: Nier Automata - Neither this game’s gameplay or story impress me, and the fact that you have to replay basically the same stuff from a more boring-to-play-character’s pov in order to SEE all of the plot is a huge damper on the experience. The story, to me, someone who engages with a lot of robot-focused fiction, is far from impressive or new, and it hardly engages with genre specifics at all, let alone in a new or interesting way. I view this game as ‘a story with robots in it’ rather than ‘a story about robots’, which, to me, is a detriment.

Underrated: Nevermind - This game is amazing and very unheard of--and when it is heard of, it has been marketed incorrectly. Nevermind seems like a horror game, and does market itself as one a bit, but it’s much more than that. It’s more about trauma, recovery, therapy, etc. This is a game that is so mindful about the topics it engages in that I am impressed by it every time. It’s heavy with symbolism and character, despite lacking conversations or other similar game mechanics. This is a lovely game that I really wish more people knew about-`p5-all of the patients are so interesting, and the focus on recovery and mental health is impressive.

Overrated: Fire Emblem - I sort of mean this as the series as a whole really. I have enjoyed the entries I have played somewhat, but I overall consider the series much less impressive than I was led to believe by others. The gameplay especially is not impressive to me in any regard, even though I sometimes do find myself enjoying it. The stories are alright, but many of them are weighed down by the gameplay and as a writer and person who likes to analyze writing, it’s very hard to do so when it isn’t able to fully exist under the chains the gameplay forces on it. There are ways to mix gameplay and story well, Fire Emblem has not really done that in any of the entries I’ve played. That being said, I don’t regret playing them, and I will occasionally replay, but I consider them mediocre games at best.

Best Voice Acting: Devil Survivor 2 - I love the voice acting in this game. I feel like all the characters are really suited to their voices, and it’s really easy for me to visualize their voices. They really bring the game to life and make both the dramatic and the funny scenes more enjoyable.

Worst Voice Acting: Jedi Knight Jedi Academy - I love this game, I really do, but some of the voice acting is janky. Some of it is okay too--I think Kyle Katarn’s voice actor does fine, and some of the others I like NOW but hated when I was a kid, but the male protagonist voice in this game is just awful. Which is bad when Jennifer Hale is the female voice actress lol. His performance is passable though unless you’re playing darksided--the darksided ending to the game lacks all punch when you’re playing the male protagonist.

Favorite Male: Battler Ushiromiya from Umineko no Naku Koro Ni - He’s the protagonist for most of the visual novels and I adore him utterly, especially once you move past episode 2. He’s a wonderful character who I care about deeply. I love his drive and how he fights--he’s someone who is easy to cheer for. He matures well throughout the series and his character development is just wonderful.

Favorite Female: Naoto Shirogane from Persona 4 - I really like how Naoto fits so well in the game, especially for being a final recruit--oftentimes the final recruit of Persona games (post 3) have a bit of a more difficult time feeling right with the group. Naoto works really well though, and I love her struggles and story as well. I think the difficulties she has concerning living as a woman in her field hit very deep to a problem that has existed for a very long time.

Favorite Protagonist: Connor of Daventry from King’s Quest 8 Mask of Eternity - I’m like, one of four fans of this character in the world, lol. KQ8 is not a very well liked game and it does have a lot of issues, both with age and with how much of a departure it is from the series prior to it. It’s strange to take a puzzle adventure game and make it a hybrid with what basically is a shooter, and it doesn’t really work. Add to that the fact that you spend most of your time in the game without anyone around to talk to and it leads to this really polarizing and weird experience. For me, Conner goes through what I would consider to be the ‘Ultimate Nightmare Scenario”. Everyone in the world is turned to stone except him (and he survived out of mere chance) and so now it’s up to him, practically alone, to save the entire world. There is no game lonelier than this. I adore him for his bravery in the face of it, and how he just picks up to do what must be done because someone should do it, and if no one else can, then he will. I also really love how he apologizes to people who are encased in stone while he takes money from their houses to help him on his journey. I really do think he went back after the game was over and gave everyone heaps of gold to pay them back with interest lol.

Favorite Village: Oakvale from Fable - The first Fable is the only one I really like, and it was one of the games I played when I was little, so the hometown in the game always meant a lot to me. I like how you grow up there and how your tragic backstory is there--and then how you get to return to the town years later after you’ve come into your own, and you can see it completely rebuilt. I like to spend a lot of my time in this town, just wandering around it and playing the minigames. Even though I have a house in every town, Oakvale is where my hero calls home.

Most Hated Character: Merril from Dragon Age 2 - I don’t really want to lay into how I feel about Merril, but what I will say is that it was suggested to me that I totally ignore her when playing, and I did so. I only met her for her quest, dropped her off in town, and literally never spoke to her or interacted for the rest of the game. I had a much better experience for it, honestly. She appeared after I made my choice in the end of the game, which felt weird since I hadn’t spoken to her in several ingame years, but other than that, the game was totally fine without her. I sort of just wish you could kill characters in DA2 the way you can in DAO, then I’d just do that, tbh. It doesn’t suit very many (or any) of the characters I rp in DA2 to keep her around or support her in any way.

First Game I Played: Mixed up Mother Goose Deluxe - I’m not actually sure if this is the FIRST game I’ve ever played or not, but it’s one of the first I played alone as a kid. I really loved it--this is probably what created my love for point and click adventures, and the game was very silly and fun.

Favorite Company: Bioware - I’ve always been a sucker for Bioware games, ever since Knights of the Old Republic 1 was my favorite childhood game. I love how they do stories and party members, and while I’m not a fan of all of their games, I really love what they’ve made and their style of storytelling and character driven plot. Even though sometimes their stories get cliche, I think the suit video games well and most of my early gaming was within their games.

Hated Company: EA - Bioware truly only started to go to shit after the EA acquisition, so I fucking hate EA. I know Bioware had issues before EA too, but I definitely don’t think EA has helped the situation whatsoever.

Depressing Game: The Beginner’s Guide - I relate to this game as a creator and a writer, and it affects me deeply because of the story it tells and the questions it raises. It makes me reflect on how I think of myself as a creator, and it reminds me of friendships I used to have.

Creepy Game: The Path - God, I love this game. It’s just aimlessly wandering around and finding symbolic scenery and watching your current character comment on it. Then, you go off to find your girl’s wolf, and each one is different and unique to her, and you watch it ‘kill’ her--and facing her wolf is the only way each girl can truly mature. Whenever you get to grandmother’s house, the camera switches to first person, and your eyes keep closing, so you can only see while clicking to move. It forces you to keep moving so that you can see, but since you are moving, you only get to see things somewhat vaguely. It’s got a great atmosphere, and I love the symbolic storytelling.

Happy Game: Eastshade - This game is so sweet. There’s some drama around to with many of the quests, but I like this as an rpg without combat, and I think this would be a really good kids game. There’s a lot to see and explore, and the game was made to be really pretty so that you want to paint several aspects of it. It’s really lovely to just wander around in this game and bike around the area, painting anything that suits your fancy. As long as you don’t finish the main quest, you’re free to wander, and materials do respawn, so you essentially can infinitely paint once you get far enough.

Favorite Ending: Virtue’s Last Reward - I love the questions this game asks and where the ending goes. It thematically ties together--the whole reason the game itself exists is to get the attention of a ‘higher being’--the player, essentially. I love how it plays with that concept, and even though the final game in the series doesn’t entirely pick this idea up where this game left it, standalone this game is stunning in how it comes together.

#shitpost #long post #this was fun to do #i made it so every answer was a different video game and i tried to mix up my companies as well #got 3 atlus games on here but mer #2 obsidon #llol #2 sierra too haha but still #beginner's guide and tsp were made by the same guy too but #STILL I LIMITED MYSELF OK #these answers aren't absolute because i was trying to have a good diverse list lol

9 notes · View notes

rikumorimachisgirl · 4 years

Text

So, I started writing this Mystic Messenger fic last year but lost the inspiration to continue. I finally finished it today, so I hope you like it.

Oh, and I commissioned this lovely artwork from @hydeine last year, too. I said I'd tag her when I finally post the fic. I suppose today's the day. Here we go...

Title: Strawberry Pancakes

Pairing: Jumin Han x OC (Iris)

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 2,665

Author's notes: Some of the scenes were faithful to the game.

Disclaimer: I do not own Mystic Messenger, but I own the idea of this fanfic.

It started with pancakes. Those thick, buttery, melt-in-your-mouth fluffy stove-top cakes that both of them - apparently - were both fond of.

The first time they talked about it got him into a spot of trouble. Over an utterly dull lunch date with his father and his latest conquest, amidst the rich ambiance of the Michelin star restaurant where only the who's who in society were spotted, Jumin Han chose to indulge in a little tête-à-tête of his own at the RFA chat room with her.

Her. Iris - RFA's accidental member, unofficial party organizer, everyone’s cheerleader, and about the only other person who resonates with him. Jumin quietly as he waited for her to respond to his last message. Over the last twenty minutes, they have gone from talking about Elizabeth the 3rd’s grooming habits to his favorite breakfast food.

| ‘I like chocolate chip pancakes.’ He felt his lips stretch sideways as he read her message. It was strange, he thought, how he's been joining the chat room more often since she joined. In the two weeks that they've been chatting, he felt closer to her than he's ever been with anyone in his life.

| ‘I figured you would.’ He typed and sent.

|’Huh?’

|’You seem like the type who'd indulge in something with high sugar content early in the morning.’

|’That was a lucky guess, Jumin.’

|’But I don't believe in luck.’

|’Oh, and I suppose you think you've got me all figured out already? If you're so smart, tell me what I’m thinking at the moment.’ He smirked at her cheeky response.

| ‘Iris, I'd like to remind you that I’m a businessman, not a fortune teller. If you’d like me to infer based on our conversation though, I'd say you're thinking that I like buttermilk pancakes, to which the answer is no. I prefer strawberry pancakes.’

Silence.

| ‘Am I really that predictable?’ Her message finally came in two minutes later. He chuckled. In his mind, he imagined she probably would’ve pouted as she replied.

“You seem rather amused, son. Did something happen?”

The sound of his father's voice snapped him out of his daydream. The young executive silently cursed himself for carelessly dropping his guard. Clearing his throat, Jumin straightened up and ran a hand through his dark locks.

“My apologies, father. I had urgent business to take care of.” He tucked his phone in his pocket while wishing that Iris would understand why he hadn't gotten back to her.

“Judging by your smile, I take it that business is going well?”

It took all of his willpower not to roll his eyes at his father's new girlfriend. Glam Choi was it? And what was it that she did? Judging by how she managed to turn heads, he deduced she must be some kind of celebrity. Nothing special, he thought; after all, his father, the Chairman of the Board of C & R International, seemed to have dated them all - socialites, celebrities, models, beauty queens - some of whom were even a year or two his junior.

“Jumin? Are you all right, son?”

He silently cursed himself once more. While he was silently judging his father’s new girlfriend, he had once again dropped his guard and gave the older man the opportunity to call him out.

“My apologies.”

“That's twice you've apologized. My, what an interesting day it is indeed, ” the stately older man said curtly. “Is our company not to your liking, son? Please just bear with us for a few minutes more. After all, your assistant told me that you won't have an appointment in the next hour or so.”

Jumin took a deep breath and sighed. If he had only known his old man’s agenda was to introduce his new girlfriend, he would’ve begged off right away. God knows he’d much rather be eating pancakes with her now than having a full-course meal in this place. He shook the thought away for a moment. Now wasn't the time to dream of her. Fixing his grey eyes at his father and the young celebrity he decided to date, he feigned a smile. “Very well, father, you have my full attention until then.”

OoOoO

The second time they talked about pancakes was more of an afterthought. It happened right after their first kiss.

Their first kiss. The very thought of it still made his heart race. He remembered every little detail as if it were yesterday. He had Assistant Kang to thank for arranging everything for him. Thanks to his efficient employee’s quick thinking, he was able to meet Iris a week earlier than the rest of the RFA members, although if he had a chance to do it over, he wouldn't be as flustered as he was when he first laid eyes on her the night before.

He watched in awe as she stepped into the foyer. She was everything he’d imagined - slender and graceful, her brown hair cascaded down her back, and her dark brown eyes looked back at him with the same level of wonder.

“Jumin, i-it's so nice to finally meet you.”

He swore he’d never felt his heart beat faster than it did at that exact moment. ‘Get a grip, ’ he scolded himself, as he schooled his emotions before it got the better of him. He must not lose his footing, after all, he was Jumin Han - businessman, philanthropist, future CEO.

“You’re beautiful.” The words slipped from his mouth quite naturally, and he immediately regretted it when he saw her cheeks turn several shades redder.

“I’m sorry, ” he cleared his throat. “What I meant to say was that I hope you traveled safely. If I had known Assistant Kang was going to ask you over, I would’ve sent out my driver to pick you up.”

And then she smiled, and he knew right away that he was going to do whatever it takes to keep her.

“Who is this woman and what is she doing in your house?”

Jumin gazed at the shameless woman his father had been forcing him to marry and resisted the urge to throw her out of his penthouse himself.

“Sarah, please don't be like that. I'm Jumin's friend -”

“And what kind of friend comes a man's house alone? By the looks of it, you probably stayed the night, too!”

If Iris was the least bit upset at the insults hurled at her, she did not let it show. Unfortunately, he was far from being gracious.

“This is dragging on far longer than I expected. I'm actually quite surprised I hadn't thrown you out the door the minute you showed me that fake cat picture. My security will show you out.”

“What? No, you can't do that. I'm your fiancée,” Sarah cried out incredulously.

“Oh, please,” he said haughtily. “If you think that we'd gotten engaged just by exchanging a few words, you're clearly delusional.”

“So, you're choosing her over me?”

“I don't know why you're even asking,” the dashing Chief Director of C & R International said, as he turned his attention to the willowy brunette who stood quietly in the corner. Something about the way she looked at him urged him to come closer to her. With each step he took, the answer became clearer. He stopped in front of her and smiled. She was a good head shorter than him, and she looked adorable gazing up at him with those big brown eyes.

“It wasn't like I had another choice to start with,” Jumin finally said, his eyes never leaving hers. “Iris,” he whispered, as he lifted her chin and closed the gap between them. He could've sworn he felt a shock wave run through his body the minute his lips touched hers. Suddenly, the sound of Sarah's protests faded, and all he could hear was the sound of his heartbeat - or was it hers? He really couldn't tell - but every single one of his senses zeroed-in on the beautiful woman in his arms.

Her lips were the softest he’d ever kissed - not that he’s had lots of experience - as a rule, he only kissed women because he needed to close deals with them and the kisses they shared were always cold. This, however, was different. As his mouth moved over hers, again and again, all he could think about were two things - how her kisses taste like strawberry pancakes, and that he could never get enough of her.

OoOoO

The third time they talked about pancakes was a memory guaranteed to make her blush almost immediately. He remembered vividly - Provence in July, a month after they'd gotten married. He promised to take her on an unforgettable honeymoon anywhere she wished. He thought she'd choose to go to Paris, Santorini, Milan, or even Ibiza, and he’d be happy to take her there; but instead, she chose to go to his newly-purchased winery so he could still oversee their daily operations while spending time with her and Elizabeth the 3rd.

That's so like her.

He woke up alone in bed one Sunday morning. Frustration marred his beautiful face as he ran his hand over her now-empty side of the bed, and found it still warm. She couldn't have been gone for long, he thought. And Elizabeth the 3rd, who usually enjoyed sleeping late, was not in the room as well. Still half-asleep, he forced one eye open to glance at the clock on her nightstand.

‘Six-thirty, ’ he groaned silently, as he rolled on to his back. What exactly could his wife be up to this early? Sighing, he rolled out of bed and left the room in search of the beautiful woman who disappeared from his side before he even got to kiss her good morning.

The house was quiet except for some movement coming from the kitchen. Raising an eyebrow, he quietly made his way to the large French country-style kitchen his wife loved so much and found himself entranced at the sight of the lovely brunette he now called wife, stirring something in the mixing bowl while their pet sat on the counter, looking curiously at her.

"I hope I get this right, Elizabeth the third, " she told the cat softly. "Jumin's pancakes always taste good, so I hope he'll like these."

Her innocent declaration made him gasp. She was making pancakes for him. And that realization made him pick up his feet and head over to where she was at.

"I see you both are up early."

"Jumin -, " she cried out in surprise, as she felt his arms wrap around her waist from behind. "Good morning, my love. I didn't expect you to be up so early."

"I could say the same about you, especially after we made love several times last night, " he responded, as he planted soft kisses on the side of her neck. Her cheeks turned red at the thought of their passionate night together, and he smiled, knowing how embarrassed she was. "You're blushing."

"I can't help it…, " she murmured. "And I think you've disappointed Elizabeth the third."

He watched their pristine white cat jump off the counter and saunter out of the kitchen. "I think she's just giving us some privacy. Don't worry, she'll be fine, " the dashing young businessman said as he stopped kissing her, but kept her in an embrace. "So, tell me what you're up to."

"I was going to make strawberry pancakes for you, " she started, her face still flushed. "But I'm not sure they're as good as the ones you make."

"Is that so?" He unwrapped his arms and moved closer to the counter where the mixing bowl was. "I suppose there's just one way to find out."

She watched in silence as he dipped his long and slender finger into the bowl and scooped up a tad bit of better. Carefully, he brought his finger near her lips, while watching her gently. "Say ahhh…, " he said and laughed at how dutifully his wife complied. "Well?"

"It's sweet…"

Cocking his head to one side, he smiled at her wryly. "Is that so?"

"Why don't you taste for yourself?"

His eyes twinkled with excitement, as she failed to realize how enticing her offer was. Cupping her face with his hands, he leaned forward and whispered, "I suppose I will, " before he ravished her mouth - and all of her body - over and over just like the night before.

The pancake batter was left untouched until later that day. And as she had placed ointment on the scratches she had left on his back, he feasted on the strawberry pancakes she had made just for him.

OoOoO

The fourth time they talked about pancakes was on Valentine's Day - the first of many they'll be spending together. He thought of many ways they could be celebrating this together and spent a lot of sleepless nights thinking of the perfect present for her. Never once did he think they'd be spending the day spooning her in bed, with one hand caressing her swollen belly.

Thirty-eight weeks. She had been carrying their first child for nearly nine months, and despite her growing belly and her slight weight gain, she continued to look even more beautiful.

"I really want pancakes, Jumin."

His hand stopped moving, and he raised an eyebrow at her upon hearing her request. "Darling, I asked you what you wanted for Valentine's…"

She snuggled closer to him as she felt his low voice vibrating on his chest. The gentle sound of his voice always soothed her and the baby, and she wanted to hear more of it today. "And I told you I want pancakes."

He frowned, feeling a little upset at her answer. In truth, she could have anything she wanted - jewelry, cars, all the designer items a woman could get her hands on - but all she wanted to for Valentine's was his home-cooked pancakes. "That's all you want?"

"That's all I want, " she hummed. A few seconds later, she felt the baby kick and the sensation made her giggle. "See? Even the baby wants pancakes."

"But the doctor said you should lay off sweets…" He should have known better than to speak those words because no sooner had he said them, she immediately turned to him with sad puppy eyes. He sighed. He knew at this point that he had lost to her once again - after all, he could never resist her - but he wanted to make her victory a little harder. "As I was saying, the doctor said…"

"But Jumin, I haven't had anything sweet since we found out I was pregnant, " she said, pouting. "And I'm really craving the strawberry pancakes you make."

"Will that make you happy?"

"Very much so."

Sighing again, he untangled himself from her and rolled out of bed. "All right. I suppose I can alter the recipe a little bit. You just lay there and rest, okay? I'll be back with your pancakes."

Elizabeth the third jumped from her bed and walked beside Jumin as he stepped out of the room. "How long do you think before she rolls out of bed and follows us?" He asked, glancing sideways at their precious feline as she mewled her response. "Ten minutes? That's too generous. She's been too fussy lately, but something tells me you're spot on, so we need to move fast."

And true to form, a very pregnant Mrs. Han waddled out of their room ten minutes later, enticed by the mouthwatering scent wafting from the kitchen.

"Those smell heavenly, " she said excitedly, as she made her way beside her husband and stood on tiptoes to give him a kiss. "Thank you, Jumin, " she whispered before she waddled towards the cozy little breakfast nook she had designed for them.

He smiled, as he watched her walk away from him. She had no idea how happy she's made him, how lucky he was that she came into his life, and how thankful he was for all the many things that brought them closer together. Especially strawberry pancakes.

The end.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #mysme jumin #jumin han #mm jumin #jumin x oc #mysme fanfic #iris writes #mm fanfic #mm jumin x oc #mysme jumin x oc

99 notes · View notes

antiquechampagne · 3 years

Text

Silver Linings - Chapter 2

Dust watched as she sat on the ground, the pain in her arm slowly melting away. Her eye had even started to open a little, the throbbing ignorable with a little effort. The ghoul, while coolly leaning against a rotted wooden post, effortlessly held his shotgun at the ready. The woman shuffled things in and out of her pack, shifting through the junk laying around and seeing what would fit. Nora grumbled to herself before picking out several rolls of duct tape, replacing it with a pristine looking camera.

“You sure you want to leave those?” the ghoul asked. “You normally hoard those things.”

“Yeah, I know.” Nora answered. “But the new Jamaica Plain settlement needs a settlement beacon. I’m missing crystals for the emitter.” She glared down at the rolls, frowning. “It’s not exactly like I was planning on hauling more crap after everything we scavenged back in Quincy.”

Dust’s jaw dropped. It took her a second to process what the vault dweller was saying. “Wait a minute… Quincy?” Her dark hazel eyes glanced between the woman and her companion. “What did you do in Quincy?” Dust’s mind raced. Everyone with more than a couple of brain cells knew to stay away from that place. The Gunners who camped there were basically their own army, easily raining death on anyone and anything that stepped close.

“Oh, the General here decided it was time to clean that place up. Gunner green was so last season.” The ghoul smirked as he shrugged. “So we did.”

“No fucking way!” Dust blustered, thinking. “Just the two of you made it out?”

His smirk grew into a wide grin. “Just the two of us went in, too. We had one hell of a blast, didn’t we, Sunshine?”

Nora laughed at their inside joke. “We sure did.”

Dust mulled over the implications of their words. It didn’t seem like they were lying to her. “If you guys are so tough you can take out a fucking Gunner camp without breaking a sweat, why the fuck did you attack us?” Dust motioned to the handful of raider corpses that had been moved to one end of the trench they had called home.

“We were trying to sneak around, to be honest,” Nora shook her head. “but I guess someone spotted someone with a huge red target on his back.”

The ghoul just rolled his eyes and shrugged again. “What can I say? No one can get enough of my threads. Either way, you guys shot first.”

That seemed true enough. Most of the time you didn’t live long unless you adopted a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ attitude in the wastes. But… if these two really offed all those Gunners…

“Hey,” Dust pushed herself up on her knees slowly. She didn’t need to give anyone another reason to start shooting. “If you really need all that stuff, just load me up. I can truck it wherever you need it to go.” In the corner, Dust could see the ghoul step forward. “To pay you back… for not killing me and shit.”

Hancock nodded to Nora, his eyes never leaving Dust. “Your call.”

Nora’s eyes studied her for a moment.

“How much can you carry?”

Dust stood up. She knew her short frame could be deceiving. She barely came to the vault dweller’s shoulder. Over the years, quite a few people learned the hard way that every square inch of her was packed full of rock hard muscle. Walking over to a weathered table, she pulled out a large military rucksack tucked underneath it.

Confident in her abilities, she simply stated: “Fill’er up.”

Twenty minutes later, Dust was trudging across the wasteland, the stuffed rucksack slung between her shoulder blades. Hard points from the objects inside pushed against her ribs like a sack full of elbows, but she shrugged it off. She thought better than to complain that she was not given a weapon. The woman took up point in front of her, the ghoul a few steps away taking up the rear.

After a while of walking in silence, Nora piped up.

“So, how long had you known those guys?”

“Um,” Dust tried to shove her shoulder against the most offending corner, trying to force something to shift into a more comfortable position. “I think about a week or so.”

“A week?” Nora shot a look back at her before turning back to scan along their path. “What made you join them, then?”

“I needed something to eat.” Dust replied flatly. She didn’t understand what was so confusing about the concept. “Plus, they had a good supply of chems.”

Hancock nodded. “Can’t argue with that logic.”

“What were you doing before that?”

“I ran with a different crew before that. Good bunch of guys. Hard as fucking steel.”

“What happened to them?”

Damn, this bitch is chatty. Dust thought. “We made a pretty good living hitting caravans. Sneaking up on them at night, that kinda thing. One night, we were stalking a real juicy mark when we ran up on a pair of sleeping yao guais. I barely made it out after one of those fuckers took a chunk out of my leg.” She frowned at the memory. “But at least I made it out. No one else did.”

“What about before them?”

Dust was getting frustrated with all these questions. “Why the fuck does it matter?”

“I’m just trying to figure something out,” She answered. “Like, what makes a person turn to raiding.”

“You do realize ‘raiders’ fuck and pop out brats, right? Those little fuckers learn real quick what it takes to survive out here… and it ain’t playing nice with soft townies. Not if you want to get your share of something to eat.”

That shut her up. They walked in silence for a few more hours. The light in the sky started to dim. Even though they were close to wherever they were going, it was decided to find a secure place to hole up for the night and continue in the morning. They found some kind of old shop and boarded up the door. Dust took off her heavy load, sitting in a corner. After starting a fire in an old metal trashcan, Nora began to prepare a few cans she pulled from her pack. Mayor Hancock took off his coat and began to clean his gun in the fire light. Once the food was warm, the vault dweller brought a can and spoon to Dust. She took it with a cautious nod, sniffing what looked like beans before shoveling them into her mouth. The other two chatted as they ate, occasionally glancing over at her.

Dust ignored them. She kept to herself, trying calm the sneaking itch in her brain. She couldn’t help focusing on how long it had been since her last hit of jet. It took all her concentration to keep her leg from bouncing. Instead, she repeatedly twisted the ends of her bandana in between her fingers,a nervous habit she had picked up as a child.

After a while, Hancock walked over to her. “I’m taking first watch, Nora’s taking second. You should get some sleep while you can.”

Even though that made sense, Dust knew her feet and back ached something fierce, she was far from exhausted enough to sleep. Not when she was like this.

“I’m good,” was all she answered.

The ghoul seemed to study her. “Since we are almost to Jamaica, you might want to rethink that make up job of yours.” He pointed to her face.

“What’d’ya mean?”

“The locals know us… but you?” His mouth tightened into bit of a grimace. “Well, they tend to shoot raiders on sight… and right now your face screams ‘I’m here’ ta fuck you up’.”

It had been a while since Dust had smeared broad swaths of black kohl across her face, but come to think about it… not a lot of townies she’d run across marked themselves like that. She supposed the ghoul was right.

“Fine.” she asked. Dust untied her bandana.

Hancock pulled out an open carton of water and handed it to her. With a good dash of water, she rubbed most of the paint from her face, pinpricks of pain reminding her of the tender new scars forming over a good portion of her face. When she thought she was done, Dust turned to the ghoul.

“Good?”

“You still look you’ve got two black eyes, but close enough.”

Dust nodded. She thought the ghoul would return to the other side of the room, but he stayed by her. Her pointed to her hands.

“Are you sure you’re good?”

Looking down, Dust realized that she was continuing to violently twisting her soiled bandana in her hands.

“Yeah, well ya know… the Jet will make you jittery.”

This time it was Hancock who nodded as he reached into a pocket.

“There ain’t much left in this one, but here...” He handed her a red inhaler. “I don’t need you jonesing all night.” He got up and returned to fire.

Dust turned over the canister in her hand. Food and chems… well, she could have done worse. She had in the past, and for less… but then again, you don’t get anything for free. She’d just have to wait and see what that price was going to be.

She put the plastic mouthpiece between her lips and inhaled. She felt a small burst of chems coat the inside of her mouth and throat, it’s burning kiss burrowed into her blood through her lungs. The flickering flames across the room slowed to a languid pulsing. A wash of heat traveled like lightning through her body, soothing her frazzled nerves.

Any exhaustion from the stress of trekking across the wasteland she might have been feeling evaporated. The only problem with all this added energy was she had no outlet to use it up. The only thing at hand was her dirty bandanna. Quickly, she ripped the flimsy fabric into a handful of thin strips. Nora stirred at the noise but turned over after Hancock put a hand on her shoulder. Dust ignored his scowl, focusing on weaving the red strips into thick braid she could fit around her head. After a few attempts, she had something that would keep the sweat and hair out of her face. It took long enough to burn of the remainder of her Jet-fuel energy binge. Soon, she scooted herself into a corner, propping herself up in a sitting position to doze the rest of the night.

Early the next morning, after a quick breakfast, the group headed out again. It was just before lunch when they reached the new settlement. It wasn’t much more than a half-collapsed building with a patch of dirt on the side. Two thin figures poked their heads out from behind a crumbling corner, gun barrels trained on them, but they waved a hearty welcome once they saw the vault dweller in the distance. She waved back. Soon Dust’s bag was off her shoulders, the contents spread across the dusty floorboards.

Dust parked herself in the corner on a stool, studying the scene playing out in front of her. The pair of settlers eyed her suspiciously, but begrudgingly ignored her as Nora pulled out random bits of armor and weapons for them to try. Soon, the two were outfitted with a ragtag collection of gear marginally better than the rags they wore underneath it all. After that, Nora got to work explaining what she needed to make them this tower beacon thing. Soon, everything was collected and piled together on the sidewalk, ready for assembly. Before work could begin, they sat down to eat.

“Here you go.” One of the settlers held out a bit of scrambled Cram and eggs. When Dust didn’t move, she put it down on the broken windowsill next to her with a shrug. It smelled good, but Dust did not touch it. She felt strange. Out of place. An imposter.

“Don’t be rude, now.” Hancock nudged her.

Dust sheepishly gulped down the food as fast as she could. The settler who had handed her the bowl came back to collect it.

“Guess it wasn’t too bad, eh?”

Dust shrugged.

“Not much of a talker? That’s alright.” She flashed a small smile at the silent Dust before shuffling away.

Dust felt like every eye was burning on her, even though she could clearly see that their attention had turned to construction of the tower. She skulked away to the other side of the building, away from the imaginary stares. She scanned around the perimeter of the ‘settlement’. There was a giant blind corner and holes in the perimeter everywhere she looked. This place was an easy mark, just ripe for an attack from nearly any direction. She’d burned plenty of settlements just like this to ground for less than the lunch she had just been given. Hearing gravel grind into the pavement, she turned around to see Hancock stepping around the corner.

“You okay back here?” Dust shrugged again. “You thinking about taking off?” he asked.

Dust shook her head. “I’m just no good at building shit. That’s all.” That part of was true, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. Before the ghoul could say anything else, she pointed to the blind corner across from them. “This corner is a death trap, if no one is watching it.”

“And you should know…” Even though it wasn’t an accusation, his words stung. “I’ll see if we can rig up a trap or something. Nora’s a damn genius when it comes to that kind of thing.” He looked at her, like he was trying to read something on her face.

“They would want me over there… if they knew me.”

“They know you helped us make their life easier. Hell, you’re even going to make their home safer for them.” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered her one.

She took it and mulled over his words. They stood and smoked in silence. Eventually, Hancock dropped his spent cigarette, grinding it out with the heel of his boot.

“We need to haul that scrap over to Hangman’s Alley. Think you can make the trip?” he asked.

Dust had no idea where the fuck that was.

“Sure,” she replied.

#silver linings #ao3 #fallout #fanfic #fan fic #fan fiction #hancock

2 notes · View notes

houseofglass · 4 years

Text

Ramblings on Supernatural’s final season

Once upon a time I couldn’t open Tumblr unless I saw the episode of Supernatural first. Otherwise, I’d be inundated with gifs, reactions, play-by-plays, and commentary. And that’s all from people that didn’t tag their posts. The tagged posts showed as simple white bars on my feed, alerting me to the deluge of stuff people posted about the show.

But now, today, I jumped on Tumblr as I do first thing in the morning and there was barely a ripple about the previous episode. I haven’t seen it yet, I had plans the previous evening and will watch it tonight, but the spoilers are, well, meh.

I know many people I follow have moved on to new obsessions, delights, and entertainments. I see their posts and wonder who these characters are and wonder if I should invest some time in checking out the source material. This is a good thing, people evolve and seek out shiny new things. But it’s sad too. This Tumblr of mine was created solely because I fell into the Supernatural fandom and I have a pang of longing for the days of excitement and new material to feature.

This is the final season of Supernatural. I’d been waiting for this season for five years. I really believed it was best to end the show as it was getting a bit long in the tooth. Now, here we are.

But then the pandemic slipped into our lives and disrupted everything. Filming stopped. Life changed. The season put on hold.

What a horrible end to the show, I thought, to have their final season so badly disrupted. Fans will leave, lose interest, move on. And they have, if my dash is any indication.

Unfortunately, so have I.

There is no excitement for the show anymore. Not for me. The last episode, 15x14, sucked pretty hard for reasons that surprised me. I liked the character of Mrs. Butters a lot. She was interesting, prim, and a breath of fresh air. But she was also the central focus of the episode. Once upon a time, Sam and Dean were the focus of every episode. Now, they’re merely background characters to some wood nymph in the bunker.

Did the show have their funding slashed? Is that why they stayed on set in the bunker? Is that why there was little CGI of monsters? And when did Jensen start phoning in his acting?

Yeah, I know that’s a remarkably unpopular opinion for those that have read this far. But really, Dean didn’t feel like Dean in 15x14. Who was that man? Who was that character? Who wrote those lines he had to say? Who told him to act like an idiot and flash his brother, then act like he did when he noticed his hemline was too high? Jensen didn’t act like Dean. Jensen acted like he had no idea what he was supposed to do so he acted like a goof. It fell flat.

And on that topic, I must say that Jensen is looking beat up and old these days. Yes, I’m aware of his actual age and that people grow old as time marches on. But Jensen (or Dean) looks tired, drawn, wan, and, well, hungover. To be fair, so does Jared. They both have that look of prettyboys who are trying to deny their prime has passed. Or maybe they appear this way because the show refuses to allow them to age, to show grey hair, to acknowledge the character’s hard lives.

Maybe my attitude has shifted because I’ve been enjoying new shows like Utopia, The Boys, and Lovecraft Country. Those shows have an element of intelligence to them, each in their own way. Two of them have twists I didn’t see coming. All three fill up their allotted time so much that my mind feels full after watching, like there was a fair bit of information to process and let my mind chew on.

Supernatural is the opposite.

The show has become empty. Each episode a waste of 42 minutes. I remember little or nothing from them as not much new information is presented. Earlier episodes felt fuller, full bodied, well rounded. Now, I feel like I’m watching a half hour show that’s been stretched to fill an hour.

What a sad note to end on. What a dim spark to guide us to the final episode. It’s as is if the writers, showrunner, directors, and actors gave up about a year ago and are just going through the motions now. It’s hard to dredge up excitement, it’s hard to care. I honestly can’t even remember the first half of the season. Something about fighting with Chuck? About a bullet in Sam’s shoulder that mirrors pain? About monsters let loose? I remember it felt bad, watching a show I enjoyed as if it were a reunion show ten or twenty years into the future, created with a shoestring budget with the original aging stars in a last gasp for fame.

Please, please, please just get to the end without looking like the actors were dragged out of bed too early, and without looking like the costume department has no money, and without forgetting who the main characters are.

Goodnight Supernatural. You can rest your weary head now. You’re done and have been for a season or two. I’ll limp through to the end purely for loyalty’s sake. Sleep well in my memory.

#spn #supernatural #final season #Jensen Ackles #Jared Padalecki #pandemic mention #The Boys #Lovecraft Country #Utopia #is it the pandemic making me see the show without excitement?#or is it the sad flop that the show's become?#I'm just rambling #thanks for reading #J2 looks so done

9 notes · View notes