#still find it funny to see as my bookmarks are pretty all over the place
I love going through people's bookmarks on ao3 looking for fic recs/ ideas and noticing a Trend in the bookmarks
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Take Five – Chapter 2
Summary: Kay's audition is still a big fat question mark. He's not sure what to do, but he knows someone who could help. Perhaps they can even help each other...
Trigger Warnings: None
Tagging: @jolieharkness @katherinerose64 @della-vacker-supremacy (let me know if you would like to be added to/removed from the tag list)
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The essay question glared out of the computer screen. What do you care about?
Kay’s parents had decided to start to prepare him for college applications a year early, to give him a head start and make sure he could write a “really killer essay!” for the college of his choice. They were teachers themselves, so they wanted Kay to be prepared. But that wasn’t so bad. The worst part was, Kay didn’t know if he could answer the question.
“What do I care about?” he said out loud, shifting his position on his bed. “What do I care about…” Frustrated, Kay shut his laptop and sighed. In his head, he made a list of the things he knew he did care about, ticking off things as he went. My family, schoolwork…
Was that it? That was all Kay cared about? For one thing, that wouldn’t make for a very good college essay, even if it was just a practice. But more importantly, Kay figured caring made life worth living, and right now, he just went through the motions. He went to school, went to theatre while he waited for his parents to finish in the teachers’ offices, but that was about it.
Wait a minute, he thought, there’s one thing I could be passionate about. Theatre. Audition time was coming soon, and if Kay could just scrape together a good enough sixteen bars and learned to actually like theatre, maybe he’d finally have an essay topic – and something he really loved.
Kay just wasn’t sure how to begin. He supposed he could start by asking someone to workshop music and run scenes with him before the audition, but he had no idea who to ask. There was Jasmine, the scary girl who got all the leads, but Kay figured she’d laugh at him and brush him off. Thinking about all the girls in the theatre program (there was only one other boy; his brother), he realized there weren’t any he felt confident enough in asking. Except for the new girl with the reddish hair.
The former tech girl had looked absolutely petrified during that day’s meeting. Kay had noticed how she kept her arms anxiously clenched around her body, pink flannel sticking out behind Jasmine’s all-black clothing. She could play Mary if she wanted; medium height, dark hair, warm tawny skin, and a sort of energy that said she could be pretty funny if she wanted to.
What was her name again? Alex? No, no, Dani! That was it. Dani Flores-Walker. He remembered seeing her name on the tech list the year prior. Logging onto Instagram, Kay searched her name, found her account, and followed her. There weren’t many posts, just a few random ones and a picture of Dani with a woman who looked almost exactly like her and a man who did not but was probably her dad.
Soon, as Kay was finishing up some pre-calculus homework, his phone pinged. Dani_flower had followed him back. Feeling hopeful, Kay started to type out a DM. Hey, he started, I saw you raise your hand for Mary in rehearsals this aft. Want to practice for auditions with me? :)
The music practice rooms, formerly neglected by Willcraft High School’s administration, had been restored to their former glory by the Drama Department’s own Mr. G. At once, Willcraft’s musical populace had taken to the small hallway with a passion, booking out rooms whenever they could. Though both the music department and the theatre department were small, it seemed like the practice rooms were always full. Luckily, Kay had secured a slot from four until five p.m. on Thursday, and when he got there, Dani was waiting for him.
“Hi!” She said after Kay shut the door. “I don’t think we ever actually introduced ourselves, so hi, I’m Dani.”
Interesting. Dani seemed far less anxious now that it was just she and him. “Kay.”
“Right,” Dani began, “so do you want to pick a song first? You’re trying out for Burt, right?”
Kay nodded. “Yep. I’m a tenor, I think. I’ve never had any training or anything, but Mr. G. always put me with the tenors.” Kay could sing – his voice wasn’t honed like his brother’s, but it was fine, he supposed.
“Do you wanna rely more on your voice or on acting?” asked Dani, tapping into her Spotify account. “There are a couple songs you could do for both options, so pick one.”
Unsure, Kay said, “maybe I can choose one of both, then pick later?”
By four-thirty, Kay and Dani had each picked two songs, and Kay had bookmarked the sheet music on his laptop. They’d decided to pick songs with both an acting and vocal element, because, as Kay had discovered while standing next to the piano with Dani, he could belt. With the help of a YouTube video on belting for tenors, of course, as neither of them had ever had formal training.
“Think I’ll be okay?”
Dani grinned. “Sure you will. Santa Fe is a great song, and so is I Believe.”
“Thanks for your help.”
“Of course. We’re friends.” Dani paused, probably wondering if Kay was okay with such a fast declaration. “Anyway,” she continued, “I think I Believe might be a better idea because it’s faster and funnier. Burt’s supposed to be funny. What do you think?”
“I’m not sure. But we can work on your songs now. If you want.” Kay couldn’t decide between the new songs, and he hadn’t even listened to either show. Maybe he would go home and listen to one of them at least.
“Oh, sure!” Dani smiled, showing the small gap between her two front teeth. “I was thinking about singing Home from Beauty and the Beast.”
Embarrassed and confused, Kay looked at the floor. “I, um… I don’t remember that from the movie.”
“That’s okay! We need to get you listening to some cast albums,” Dani laughed, pulling up the backing track for the song. “Let’s hit it.”
Dani’s voice wasn’t polished, Kay could tell, but she had talent. Clearly, she knew the song and could sing it well. There were areas even Kay knew she had to improve, but her voice had a smooth vibrato and her voice carried like the wind even in the small practice room.
“That was really good,” Kay said after she finished singing.
“Yeah. I mean, we both have stuff to work on, but that’s why we’re here, right?” Kay hoped he hadn’t overstepped by telling her she had stuff to work on, but she seemed unfazed.
“Yeah.” Dani nodded as if confirming something to herself. “Yeah.” There was an awkward silence for a few seconds before she said, “why don’t you like theatre? You never look happy to be there.”
Kay frowned. Dani’s eyes widened. “Sorry!” Dani apologized. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“I don’t know. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Dani, it’s fine.” Kay didn’t know why Dani was suddenly like this, but that was probably a conversation for another day. Anxiety, maybe? “Basically, my parents both work at the school. My mom teaches 6th grade Math and my dad teaches 12th grade English. I have to do something while Felix and I wait for them to be done working.” A half-truth, but better than a lie. The truth: Kay could care less where he was. That was part of the reason he was actually trying this year – he wanted to care, he just didn’t.
With a glance at the clock, Kay realized it had just turned five o’clock; their time in the practice room was over. “Want to do this next week?”
Dani stood, grabbing her laptop. “Totally! I can print off some sheet music, and over the next couple of days, think you could pick a song? And a monologue? Just text me when you decide so I know which music to print.”
“Sure.” Kay opened the door, and Dani breezed past him. To another boy, her scent of flowers and vanilla probably would have been intoxicating, but it only made Kay think about Dani’s last name. Flowers. Flores. Kay’s father’s voice played over in his head as he walked to pick up his brother from volleyball.
“Find yourself a nice girlfriend this year, son. You’ve been so lonely.”
“I don’t really want a girlfriend, dad,” Kay had said. “I’m fine without one.”
“You just haven’t met the right girl yet.”
Maybe he was right. Maybe Dani was the ‘right girl’. Kay didn’t know.
A million seventh-graders (okay, more like thirty) poured out of Langtown Middle. Kay searched their faces for his brother – picking him up from away games always sucked, because there were faces Kay didn’t know, making it harder to find Felix. Their parents waited in the car with takeout from the local burger place, and Kay could feel his stomach growling.
“Kayster!” Felix exclaimed from behind him.
Kay turned around. “Hey, bub.” Throwing an arm around him, Kay led Felix to where their parents were parked. “How was the game?”
“Good!” Reaching up to wipe sweat from his brow, Felix grinned widely. “My serves got us some points, and my spike won us the game!”
Of course, it did. Kay loved his brother, yes, but it was hard not to feel overshadowed by his perfection. Before his mind dragged itself into a pity-pit (Kay’s favourite analogy for feeling sorry for himself), Kay reminded himself that he was working on being better at singing, and that was something. Or, at least, could become something. If he let it.
“Hey, son,” Kay’s father said when Felix shut the car door. “Did well, I assume?”
“Cool. We got you one of your mushroom burgers.” A paper bag was shoved into Felix’s hands and an identical one into Kay’s. The pleasant aroma wafted about the car, making Kay’s mouth water. They’d been going to the same takeout place since he’d been small, and the smell of their fries always made Kay nostalgic.
“YES!” exclaimed Felix when he opened the bag. “You guys even put the guacamole on top!”
Kay’s mom smiled. “We wanted to celebrate the big game! Whether you won it or not.”
“And to celebrate the start of theatre!”
Right. Because that’s what’s important. Celebrate Felix, leave Kay to fend for himself, leave Kay to slowly sink into further apathy and boredom, lift Felix up like the second coming of Jesus–
Kay cut off his own thoughts. He had so many, he acknowledged. So many thoughts, nowhere to put them. Instead of thinking about his brother, how perfect he was, how perpetually left out Kay felt, his anger was replaced with song lyrics. Kay didn’t know why – they had sort of come out of nowhere.
Let me go
Somewhere they won’t ever find me
Where tomorrow won’t remind me of today
Yes; Santa Fe was the song Kay wanted to sing. It spoke to the emotions always roiling in Kay, the feeling that there was nothing to do and nobody to listen.
Well, someone would have to listen, because Kay was going to speak. Or, he supposed, sing. So he texted Dani. Gonna sing Santa Fe, I think, he wrote. Thoughts?
Three brown thumbs-up emojis were the reply, and Kay smiled, feeling better. One thing was for sure, though: if he got the role of Burt, he was not going to tell his parents until the very last minute. He wanted to see the look on their faces.
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Omorashi Kohga? Don't tell me Sooga wouldn't love to get peed on/'marked' by his beloved master. Gross for sure, but these boys are gross, so...
I was gonna ignore this, because piss kink is NOT my thing. BUT, you do kiiinda have a point? In a real gross way, I can see this. That, and I’m gonna be answering some asks before I get to my main fanfics I’m planning. So, imma try this, but I’ve never written something like this before, so if it isn’t good, oh well, a bitch tried.
Having access to Master Kohga’s room was STILL a new feeling for Sooga. Kohga was currently in his napping spot, and he requested that Sooga clean his room for him while he napped. He knew he was really just trying to nap in peace, but Sooga was not one to refuse a direct order. His room WAS on the sloppy end, and it made Sooga feel better, knowing his bed was made, his floor was mopped, and his things were tucked away. All but his books, which he had just finished dusting. Kohga loved to read, Sooga noticed. They weren’t poetry or old war manuscripts like Sooga would prefer to read, but romances, funny plays, and occasionally historical books of the clan. Then there were the dirty books.
Books and magazines that held lewd material, enough to make a pervert blush. Sooga skimmed through the magazines, only to immediately close them. Pictures of men. LOTS of men. Some without clothes, some with. Mainly without. Sooga was not one to shame his master for his desires, or even the fact that his lust never FULLY stayed with him, but this was a bit...much. Sooga just lightly shook his head, and started to put it away. That was when he noticed a bookmark in one of the more leatherbound ones. He must be reading this one. He read the spine of the book; ‘of Knights and Passions’. Borderline romantic, actually. Sooga grew curious, and opened the page to where the bookmark was, and started reading.
‘He grabbed a hold of his knight’s long, red hair. His fingers coiled so tightly around his locks with such a heavy hand, it brought a sneer to the Knight’s lips. It made Prince Aezielle feel as though he was holding onto fire itself. A beast ready to be tamed, Aezielle was no longer going to tolerate his behavior. The high and mighty attitude he possessed did not fit who he served. He deserved some humbling. The prince pulled down his trousers, and shoved his cock in his face. The little night growled at him, only to be silenced by another hair pull.
'“You want to sound and act like a canine? Fine. Let’s treat you as such.”
He forced back his head, opening his mouth, and shoving himself in past his lips. He pushed himself till he was in the back of his throat, before he pulled himself out, making the red head cough. Before he could open his mouth, Aezielle pushed his head down, and proceeded to urinate right on the top of his head. The knight sat there, helpless and defenseless against his current plight.
"I hope you feel humiliated. I hope you feel like you know your place. I hope you understand that not only is your insolence intolerable, it is suitable for punishment. I hope you reek of your shame for days to come. Until you learn to obey, you shall smell of me."
Past his warm, dripping locks, the knight’s eyes seemed less fiery. Less bold and defiant. Perhaps, he truly was property of his liege'.
Sooga sat there for a moment, dumbfounded. He had just read some fictional story of a prince urinating on his knight, in order to get him to submit. It was disgusting, humiliating, unsanitary. But...Sooga thought about it. He thought of Master Kohga holding his hair like that, forcing possession onto him in a disgusting, demeaning manner. Sooga shouldn't be here on his bed, palming at the bulge that seemed to form.
"Maybe...oh, alright, before Master Kohga wakes up."
Sooga quickly tucked the book away, and sat down on the bed. He pulled himself out of his uniform, and proceeded to stroke his cock. This was shameful, touching himself not only without his permission, but on his own bed. He deserved getting pissed on. Deserved the notion of being tamed in a gross, vile manner. He stroked his cock slowly yet firmly, surprised at how quickly he found himself panting. Oh he REALLY liked this, apparently.
"PLEASE Master Kohga…"
Just once, to see what it was like. See what the hot fluid would feel like pouring down the back of his neck, the possessive look in his eyes upon being caught being so unbecoming. Humiliation and appreciation all in one filthy action. No wonder he was throbbing.
"Hey Sooga, you finished- woah."
Sooga nearly fell off the damn bed the second he was caught. Right. This was HIS room afterall. Sooga grabbed a pillow to cover himself, trying to find some kind of apology suitable. He should've known better than to indulge some fantasy as grotesque as this.
"Master Kohga I can explain!"
Kohga laughed, walking over and grabbing his pretty chin.
"You don't have to explain ANYTHING, Sooga. This is a big, pleasant surprise for me. Honestly all you'd need is a ribbon and you'd be the prettiest present~"
Kohga chuckled, leaning down to peck those lips, sort of into the taste of the drool. He plucked the pillow from his grasp, throwing it to the side and stroking his cock in his nice, skilled hands. He chuckled as Sooga seemed to whine under his touch.
"Now, what got my pretty boy so worked up? I'm dying to know."
He held onto his hand as he was stroked, looking as meek and as defenseless as he could, in hopes that Kohga would at least hear his wishes.
"I...read one of your books."
"Oh you did? Well, color me surprised! Which one?"
"'Of Knights and Passions', I believe."
"Oooh, good pick! Don't spoil anything though, I haven't finished it. What part was it that got your rocks off?"
Sooga hesitated, but Kohga’s prompting hand forced him to speak. He HAD to be more open with his Master, he deserved that much.
"The….part where the prince...uhm…"
"Was it where they fucked on the king's throne? That's a good part."
"I...no, didn't read that part. It was the uh...part where he….peed on him."
There was a silence between them, when Kohga let go of him, laughing till he was near to tears.
"YOU ARE N O T INTO THAT PART, NO WAY."
Sooga sat there, ashamed. Of course Kohga would find it disgusting. Find HIM disgusting even. He was about to just put himself away, before Kohga grabbed onto his wrist, trying to regain his composure.
"Oh my god, okay, I'm done, I'm sorry. I just. Was NOT expecting that, at all. So, is it like, the idea of pee, or a domination thing?"
Sooga shook his head, feeling too embarrassed to elaborate. That was when Kohga bonked his mask against his, finally seeming to calm down.
"I'm done, I promise. Come on big guy, I wanna make you feel good. I didn’t mean to laugh, I promise. I'll even make you fish tonight if it means you'll stop having that sour face of yours."
"...even salmon skin?"
"Even salmon skin. Come on, tell me, like a good boy."
Sooga sighed. He wanted to hide away from it all, but his hard cock demanded he at least explain himself.
"I...I like the idea of you doing it to me, in a possessive sense."
"See how easy that was?"
Sooga forced himself to smile a bit, upon getting the cheek pat from Kohga. He supposed his initial reaction of laughter was warranted, given the absurdity of it all. Sooga was about to just nod and tuck himself away, before Kohga snapped his fingers, pointing to the floor.
"Alright, let's do it then."
"Let's do it! I'm willing to try anything at least once, especially if it means it'll get your cock nice and hard."
Sooga was clearly at a loss for words, unable to make sense of what he did to deserve master Kohga. He hesitated, before Kohga prompted him again, and Sooga obeyed, honestly a bit eagerly. Kohga patted his head, un doing his hair tie and lightly messing up his pretty hair.
"Such a pretty boy, my Sooga. Alright, play with that cock for me."
Sooga obeyed, toying with himself as Kohga ran his fingers through his scalp, really enjoying the rather assertive touch. Kohga pulled at his hair, forcing his head up to look at him. He put his cock right on his mask, rubbing it in his face as though he was bullying him.
"You make it so hard not to talk, you know. Looking the way you do, talking how you do, BEGGING the way you do. I love you, you know that? I love how you’re getting so much more comfortable, finding kinks all on your own."
"You...flatter me, master."
He was having troubles listening, given the fact that he was making himself feel so damn good right now.
"I'm just being truthful. You're my good boy, and I'm gonna give my good boy what he wants. Because he deserves a nice, big reward, doesn't he?"
Sooga nodded. He never felt like he deserved Kohga, but he did in fact, deserve to be rewarded for how far he's come. Deserved to be claimed in this manner. Deserved to be under the full rulership of his master. Kohga pushed his head down, and Sooga touched himself faster, knowing he was going to finally fucking get it.
And he absolutely did. He felt the warm stream start from his neck, before Kohga let go of his hair, in order to let it freely flow down his locks. It was hot to the touch, like Sooga expected, but what was so fantastic about it, was Kohga’s voice.
"That's it. Stay just like that, I'm not done with you. You're my boy, you're gonna smell like it. You're so into me, you're literally jerking yourself off while I just pissed all over you. You gonna cum? Cum on my floor? In my room? In MY arms? Do it. Do it and look at me."
Sooga lifted his head up, feeling his cock throb and the hot piss run down the side of his features. Kohga was staring at him so intently, so full of authority and leadership over him. Was it any wonder that he swore, and came all over the once clean floor? All while staring Kohga in his beautiful face? Kohga chuckled, shaking his head as Sooga pumped his cock free of all that nice, hot cum.
"So. I take it we found something you liked, huh big guy?"
Sooga found himself practically whimpering as he held onto his cock. That was everything he wished, and more. He nodded slowly, bonking his mask against Kohga’s.
"I...I do. But I enjoy any means of being claimed by you. You're wonderful, Master Kohga."
"Yeah and I'm in love with a little pissbaby. Let's get you a shower that ISN'T golden, dirty boy."
So Sooga had a rather odd, disgusting kink. But so long as Kohga accepted it of him, he could hold absolutely no shame.
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Dropping the Ranboo mixtape
Anyway at time of starting to write this post I had two likes and two affirmative replies, which is Good Enough For Me, so here I am :D I was gonna link the YT but on second thought my YT channel is a mess so this is gonna be one of the annoying ones that doesn’t link to one you can actually listen to but
This is also a running list and currently organized roughly by increasingly hotter takes and it’s under a cut bc it’s 13 songs and I justified all of them
Everybody Likes You (Lemon Demon) - LISTEN THE ANIMATION MEMES WEREN’T LYING THAT EVERYBODY LIKES YOU CAN RANBOOCORE. The increasingly distorted, incredibly bright repetition of EVERYBODY LIKES YOU EVERYBODY LIKES YOU EVERYBODY LIKES YOU until you can hear it morphing in and out of EVERYBODY LIED TO YOU? Tell Me That’s Not Him In The Spiral Depths
Tall (Naps the Block on YT) - This is a) literally a theme for the End, b) sounds stumbling and anxious/high-strung, and c) echoes the Pigstep melody in the middle while still very much doing its own thing this is self explanatory
Dance of Thorns/Old Secret mashup (Tensei and James Roach respectively, feat. woodfur00 on YT) (yes this is Homestuck music) - It’s just the vibes. The energy. The way the elegance of the violin lines of Dance of Thorns sounds almost nervous especially against the almost noir mystery vibes of Old Secret, and the guitar lines of Dance of Thorns add like. Initiative/urgency especially when they underlay the other music it’s so good I don’t think either song alone is Ranboo vibes but this remix definitely is. Just the mix of perseverance and desperation and melancholy and mystery and Class
Touch-Tone Telephone (Lemon Demon) - This one is old news but tbh it just works. Man decides he’s the correct one in this situation and he’s losing his entire mind that no one is listening to him because he just is not
2012 (Will Wood) - This one isn’t really clever it’s just about memory loss, derealization, identity, and often self-hatred (“A miserable fuck, but a loud Tao mystical” is a lot). “Did you lose yourself?/It’s always in the last place that you check” sounds so mocking in ways internal monologues like Droice have been and “I might find myself/By retracing my steps” is literally just Ranboo dealing with the Enderwalk; “And not until lobotomy abolished my monotony/Did I applaud autonomy, and modify a lot of me!” works so much for him Dealing With Himself generally, and also “I heard the world would turn to hell/Compared to that, I’m doing well!” is a Him sentiment
Hand Me My Shovel, I’m Going In! (Will Wood) - Jokes about the three hour mining/grinding streams aside. Not only is the chorus so heavily a spiral/self-evaluation mood, but literally consider his thought processes abt the things he’s done/allegedly done and then consider “My dreams were shattered like a stained-glass window/Jesus in pieces! I believe I through a brick right through Him/But my memory could not be saved!/It just seems unlikely that it’s me who was to blame/So I bookmark my DSM, ‘cause I need to remember my place.” And now with the advent of the “experiments” the second verse’s “Take the road on higher ground, and tell me ‘don’t look down! You’ll fall and break your back’/But that just reminds me how there’s more to be found beneath the black!” is more relevant than ever
Friends With You (The Scary Jokes) - Oh my god. Oh my fucking god man. This could be on here for “I put myself to bed just halfway through the party/I love all my friends, but I hate when their eyes are on me” alone but the general almost empty saccharine vibe of the song is immensely his vibe; the humorlessly-smiling vocal fry on “don’t know” in “Why do you pretend/You don’t know who’s to blame?” is probably responsible for 80% of this read. Not to mention the first lyrics are literally “How long do I have to wait/’Til my lonely days are over?” which is really the. The waiting it out man the So When Do I Get To Be Okay of it all. Shoutouts also to “And the crumbling infrastructure no one else can see,” the self hatred of “I miss being friends with you/But what can I do/What can I do/But leave you alone?” and to “And I can tell you really love me/Can you tell I’m really sorry?” Just. The mix of hope+affection and dejected cynicism and self-hatred in the lyrics
Saline Solution (none other than Mr Wilbur Soot) - Remember what I said about waiting it out until you get to be okay? Anyway that’s crystallized in “If I could just break one more night/Maybe I could wake up and feel alright” and also this is literally a song about catastrophizing and self-evaluation just,, in general and I will not be highlighting all the lyrics about this but I will highlight the fact that he literally calls himself pragmatic and also the lyric “blurring the facts and the fiction.” Also, the sheer desperate anger-concealing-breakdown vibes of “I think I’ve made my choice” to “I think I’ve found my voice” deserves a mention, as does the culminating end of “saline solution to all your problems” with the tears+now splash water motifs of it all with Ranboo I am going to die
Funny (The Scary Jokes) - This is actually a softer take but not only does it literally start with the singer pleading with the addressee to look away, it continues with “I went up in the middle of the night and I climbed right onto the stage/And I raged/And I cried/Oh, what a funny joke am I” disregarding everything as performance, reemphasizes the opening demand with the qualifier “it’s not that I hate you, it’s just that I’m funny these days,” and then kills you with the last couple lines which. Yeah he does care and it does,,, just,,,,, a
Chemical Overreaction (Will Wood) - This is where the mood VIOLENTLY whiplashes because this is where we get unhinged. Anyway “I won’t stop to drop to draw a line in the sand/’Cause I’ll be picked apart to pieces by coyotes!” is LITERALLY the whole “I don’t do well with ‘peer pressure’” thing. “Where the sentimental value of the city around ya/Is deleted obsolete, but still completely will stun ya” is the single most L’Manberg lyric I’ve ever heard, especially from the perspective of a character whom I will repeatedly insist is narratively in the role of someone who’s shown up and seen the status quo as an outsider after it’s been established (hence the eternal New Kid vibes). Chorus very much has vibes of Ranboo Is Seized By The Urge To Do Something, and like. The entire dramatic end part. The last two lines especially (be very careful if you look up the vieo for this by the way it is NOT pretty; cws in the video for flashing, blood, suicide imagery)
A Mannequin Adrift (The Scary Jokes) - The Bitterness. This song is just fully The Bitterness at the environment he’s stuck in; the saccharine comes back as does the “peer pressure” thematic and just the Having An Awful Time; the sarcastic saccharine comes back too, which is always good I love passive aggression. Honestly the first verse is just everything like just listen to it it immediately makes sense
Poison Ivy Grows (The Scary Jokes) - This is overall a song about having bad brain and not knowing what the hell to do about it; it’s so faintly bitter and distant and melancholy and also so zoned out. Also, it’s not the only lyric that matters here but it is enough to be a full argument on its own: “I used to spend so much time/Wandering around outside/Now I’ve got too much on my mind/Now I’ve got too much on my mind”
Spring Haze (Tori Amos) - Listen. Do I know what Spring Haze is about? No. Is that gonna stop me from saying it’s about Ranboo? Also no. I just think “You say we’ll never make it there/So all we do is circle it” is so much, the fact that the bridge at the end is just “Why does it always end up like this?” repeated, and that it just feels so much like overall the song feels like a desperate attempt to figure Something out, and the chorus is just inexplicably him? It might be partially influenced by the fact that “Uh-oh, let go, off on my way” and, to a lesser extent, “Uh-oh, way to go” is not only in accordance with character vibes but also vaguely evocative of Ranboo’s speech pattern
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“on my forehead, a birthmark / remove it with the kiss of a knife / even if it causes me to die”
Do you recover well from surgery? Judging by the two surgeries I've had, oh yeah. I was hyper as hell when I came home from getting tubes put in my ears as a little kid, even though the doctor said I'd be very sleepy. Then, after my cyst removal, I was put on very strong painkillers but was still warned it was going to be a painful recovery, when it totally wasn't. I literally only took painkillers the first day.
What addictions have you had? Caffeine, technology.
Would you change your name if you became famous? Nah.
If Cupid were real, would you hire him to make someone love you? No. I don't want somebody forced to love me.
Ever been to an auction? No.
Which word(s) do you generally use to describe someone attractive? (e.g. “fit”, “sexy”) It kinda varies with gender. Women I tend to call "beautiful" or "gorgeous," sometimes "hot" or "cute," while men I usually refer to as "handsome" or "hot"/"sexy."
The last person you kissed - are they older or younger than you? She's a bit younger.
When was the last time someone wanted you to do something, and you refused? Hm. I dunno. I have a hard time saying "no," so.
When was the last time you had Pop Tarts? What flavour were they? Many months ago; I kinda stopped eating them because they're truly not filling and just a load of sugar that veils itself as an actual breakfast choice. But anyway, I liked the chocolate sundae ones.
Have you ever felt a temperature below 0? No.
Did you ever play Spyro? I LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!! SPYRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Those games were my CHILDHOOD, and it's half the reason I'm dying for a PS4 to play the remastered trilogy. Speaking of which, it'd be awesome if they remade the The Legend of Spyro trilogy as well. I might just like those games more than the originals, but that's a bold statement I'm unsure about.
Have you ever dated someone who was of a foreign origin? I dated a Hispanic guy for less than a day.
Have you ever read any of your idols’ books/autobiographies? Ozzy Osbourne's, yes. I'm just fucking waiting for Mark to write one, but he's always said he has so little interest in writing about his life. DO IT, YOU FUCK.
Do you own any succulents? No. I think they're pretty, though.
Do you have a drone? No.
What’s your favorite Netflix series? *shrug*
What is something a lot of people like but you don’t? Summertime. The heat, the humidity (at least here), the sunburn from just standing outside for ten minutes... I hate all of it. The ONLY two things I enjoy about summer is swimming and then flowers, though spring is the more floral season here anyway.
Do you have revenge fantasies that you never actually play out? They've... happened.
Did your first real significant other change you at all? Pretty sure forever.
Are you waiting to have sex until you’re married? Once upon a time, that was the plan. Now, nah. I'd just want to be in a healthy, stable, and long-term relationship.
What do you think about divorce? It's sad, but necessary for some people in order to be happy, which everyone has the right to be. I used to be very firmly against divorce except in extreme cases like abuse, etc., and I'm still definitely no fan of it and think couples should do their best to work things out, but it's incredibly unfair to believe that someone should be stuck for the rest of their life with a person they just don't love anymore. Getting married can be a mistake; don't damn people forever to be chained to their bad decisions.
Do you remember the first time your heart broke? What was the reason? It was probably when Dad just abandoned us.
What's the worst prank someone has ever done to you? I don't think anyone's ever pulled a sick joke on me.
Have you ever seen someone sleepwalk? Yes; my little sister deadass tried to walk outside late at night. Thank God I was on the computer in the living room and stopped her.
What song are you listening to right now? I just turned "Mutter" by Rammstein on.
When is the last time you cursed? I'm not re-reading, but I have probably cursed fifty times in this survey already. It's so deeply ingrained into my vocabulary.
Are there any words on your shirt? No; it's just a plain gray tank top.
Why do you forward forwards? I never do because they annoy the fuck out of me.
How many people are you interested in at the moment? Just one in a healthy and logical way. I can't be truly interested in Jason because like come on I haven't spoken to him in four whole years. My PTSD just ensures I never forget the memory of who he was, who probably no longer even exists. I mean, look how much I'VE changed in four years.
Do you know any mechanical stuff about cars? Nnnnope.
Who was the last person (apart from family) that you spent time with? What did you get up to? Apart from family, I have no idea.
If you have pets, when was the last time one of them got on your nerves? Venus never does, but Roman can get on my nerves sometimes when I don't let him lay on me when I'm on the laptop in bed. He's a large cat (not overweight, just a big male cat) and blocks the screen big time unless he lies down properly, which he doesn't always do. He still tends to win when he tries to come over, but sometimes I'll block him with my arm, and this spoiled brat will actually slap it a few times before walking away lmao.
Would you rather live in a house with a swimming pool or an indoor cinema? Absolutely a pool. I want one badly.
Do you own a credit card? If so, do you currently owe any money on it? Could you afford to pay it off tomorrow if necessary? No.
How many hours of sleep do you typically get each night? Is that enough to function or would you rather have more? Especially lately, I don't get nearly enough. Like at the time I'm answering this question, it's 4 AM, and I've been up for almost a couple hours. I struggle with falling asleep, I will ALWAYS wake up at least once in the night, and I jerk awake from nightmares regularly still. It's a big reason why I pretty much require naps.
Does your house have a loft/basement? Are they functional or do you just use them for storage? We only have an attic.
Do you suffer from road rage? What kind of thing tends to set you off or wind you up while driving? No. I'm way too timid of a driver to get that outwardly pissy about stupid people. I'd just judge them in silence, haha.
What kind of animal did you last see in the wild? Is that a common sight where you live? Because of just how common they are, I'm going to assume this excludes birds, in which case it was probably a squirrel? Yeah, the normal brown ones are common.
Do you post a lot on social media? If so, what kind of thing do you tend to post on there? Since I was fucking stupid enough to post a suicide note on Facebook (I don't want to hear a goddamn thing about "attention seeking," I genuinely wanted to say goodbye), I almost never, ever, share things about my personal life. Even before, it was rare for me to actually share what's going on with me. All I really do now is share relatable, wholesome, or funny shit I find, as well as political things I'm in firm agreement with.
What are some habits you have in common with your parents? I pace like my dad, and it drives people crazy because it apparently makes them anxious? I can't think of an obvious one I have with Mom, but I'm sure one exists.
Where's your favourite place to swim - the ocean, a pool, river, lake etc? I feel safest and most clean in a pool, but c'mon, swimming in the ocean is so much fun.
When you're saving your place in a book, do you use a bookmark or fold your pages down? Or something else? It depends on the book, it seems. Especially if someone else owns it, like in school or something.
Is any part of your body hurting at the moment? Is there a specific incident that caused the pain? My legs always hurt. I've shared enough as to why; it wasn't an actual, singular "incident."
What was the last thing to make you laugh out loud? OH MY FUCKING GOD. So in group therapy the other day, one of the girls had her bearded dragon out, and he was being aggressive. I think he tried to bite her aND SHE SAID WITHOUT REALIZING HER MIC WAS ON, "fucking dickhead," and everyone d i e d. She's a really cool chick, I'll miss her when I'm finished with PHP.
Who was the last person you heard sing? Myself, surprisingly enough. I barely ever sing.
Do you bite your lips a lot? Yes, especially when they're dry. .-.
What part of your body would you never get pierced? Anyone who gets a piercing "down there" has a greater pain tolerance than this bitch right here.
Have you ever dated someone with tattoos? Juan had quite a few. I don't remember if Tyler did... but I think maybe a The Legend of Zelda-related one?
Have you ever failed gym in school? No.
Are you scared of dogs? No; I love dogs.
What is the saddest movie you’ve ever seen? Man, idk, I'm a little bitch when it comes to emotional movies. The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is high up there, as is of course Johnny Got His Gun. Old Yeller, too.
Which one of your friends is most likely to be famous one day? Why? Sara's gonna write a fuckin book series ok you can't convince me otherwise.
What is the worst present you have ever gotten? Damn dude, what an ungrateful question. I'm just appreciative someone even thought TO give me something.
Do you shave your arms? My armpits, yes, but not my arms themselves.
How many people have you dated? I only count three as even remotely serious: Jason, Sara, and Girt.
Have you ever performed in a play? I remember back in Sunday school as a tiny kid I played Mother Mary in one we did in class.
Do you chew gum? I have been more lately since my doc upped the dosage of one of my mood stabilizers (which I think is actually helping); I mention that because apparently a side effect is dry mouth, and it's the fucking Sahara in there. He advises those who deal with it to always carry around hard candy or something like that for the sake of forcing salivation, so gum works for me.
How old were you when you first started dating? I was in the 7th grade when I had my first "boyfriend," but it was total puppydog love. I started dating my first "real" bf when I was just shy of 16.
Are/were your parents strict? Dad, no. Mom, only to a degree that I feel was pretty reasonable. She only ever wanted to prepare us to be functional, independent adults. Didn't work so well on me though, ha...
Do you wear glasses? Yes. God, I need new ones. I'm blind as hell.
What do you miss most about your childhood? Being so outgoing and happy to just be weird lil me.
Do you write “To-Do” lists? Not really, no, but I do have notes on my phone about a couple things, like a bulleted list of planned monetary investments by importance, as well as a list of drawing ideas.
Do you have a favorite quote? What is it? I don't, really. There's loads I like, but no one favorite.
Could you survive as a vegetarian? I pretty desperately want to, but I don't know if it's realistic. I am so, SO picky, and without meat, it's very questionable as to where I'd get an adequate source of protein. I still want to try again though once I'm at my goal weight.
Has anyone ever asked you for your autograph? Lol no.
Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you that you were sexy? Yeah, but that was a looong time ago when I was actually some semblance of pretty.
Do you prefer to take your showers at night or in the morning? I used to be someone who firmly stood by nighttime showers, but now I'm all about them in the morning. It's a nice way to wake up and start the day with productivity.
Could you handle living with a male roommate? I mean, I lived with my then-boyfriend once, but I'm going to assume you'd consider him more than a "roommate." We lived with our two other friends, though, also a couple, and I was totally fine with living with them.
Has anyone taken their shirt off in front of you? Yes.
Do you like Freddy Krueger? His concept is very scary, but all the movies I've seen bits of have always been super cheesy.
Which do you prefer, Naruto or One Piece? I haven't seen either and really aren't interested.
What do you think of Rob Zombie? I've never really watched his movies, but I'm a fan of his music.
What’s you fetish? I don't have one.
Have you ever been in the “friend zone?" Well, what I'd call a "fake" one with Jason after the breakup until I was blocked on Facebook. I know now he absolutely did not want to be friends; he was trying to appease me.
Is the area you live in more liberal or conservative? Definitely conservative.
Do you know anyone who had to have tubes put in their ears as a baby? Yeah, me.
Were either of your parents baptized? I'm certain Mom was, but idk about Dad. I think so.
The last concert that you were at, was there a mosh pit? No.
What was the last computer game that you played? World of Warcraft.
Does your bathroom have a theme to it? No.
Are any rooms in your house themed? No.
What was the last thing that you recorded? I think Mom and I singing "happy birthday" to my late dog Teddy; we knew it would be his last.
Do you like the show Futurama? Not really.
Have you ever been in a choir class? I was in the elementary school chorus, as well as the choir at my childhood church.
Are you ashamed of any of your family members? No, only myself.
Were you a chubby child? No.
Did you ever have senior photos done? No, even though I wanted them.
Who is the person you dislike the most? God, this is so petty... but it's the girl Jason dated after me. I know it's childish as hell to feel like she "took" him from me, and I just feel this horrible hatred towards her that is entirely uncalled for. I just can't get myself to move past it.
Do you take part in paying the bills for your household? No, as I'm unemployed and also don't have disability, so I literally can't.
How do you usually celebrate New Years? I really don't do much. Sometimes Mom will grab a pack of daiquiris, but that's pretty much the extent of it.
Does the place you work have music playing? What sort? N/A
What was the last job interview you went to? At a local grocery store to work in the deli. Got the job, lasted there for not even two hours. :^)
Do you know anyone with autism, mood disorders or learning disabilities? Autism and mood disorders, yes. I myself may have high-functioning Asperger's (yes, I know that term doesn't technically exist anymore, it's just the umbrella term of "autism," but w/e).
Have you ever had an immediate relative pass away of cancer? My grandmother died of pancreatic cancer, and it's pretty much guaranteed that, unless there's some sudden accident, my mom will die of cancer, too. Hers got too bad to entirely eliminate every trace of cancer cells, so it will inevitably re-emerge at some point, just obviously some place else given that she had a total hysterectomy.
Would you rather work in an office, warehouse or on a retail shop floor? Office.
Are you a fan of sweet, sour, salty, or savory snacks? I enjoy all of those, but sour I think tops the list.
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avengers x fem!teen!reader
summary: you are the baby avenger and everyone is platonically whipped for you.
genre: fluff, crack
warnings: none, maybe just my inability to write good endings
word count: 3497
note: um second oneshot hope this one's good gaaah
"hey, doll. whatcha' reading?" you glanced up to see bucky, who then plopped down next to you on the couch in the common room. "it's called 'shadow and bone'. it's a novel that's turning into a netflix series in like a month," you smiled at the super soldier, lifting up your book a little to show him the cover. his eyebrows raised at the information, lips tugging into a knowing smirk.
"yes, bucky, i'll watch the series with you." you rolled your eyes playfully at him. ever since he officially became an avenger and moved into the tower with the rest of you, you've been helping him 'get with the times' —as sam likes to call it— just as you did steve a few years prior.
steve had told his best friend that you were the best at stuff like this. after all, you were the youngest avenger. and you had a lot of free time on your hands; having no school since you were pretty much the only one besides vision who could compete with tony's or bruce's intelligence.
so really, school wasn't mandatory for you according to tony. at least, after you had asked him if you could just not attend and he cracked ten seconds after you pulled the puppy dog eyes.
you also had significantly less trainings than the rest of the team. this one wasn't because you were an expert on the field or something —well, you were, but so were the rest of the team but they still had almost daily trainings while you had half the amount they did— this was because you had cap wrapped around your tiny little finger.
and as for the team, they couldn't even be mad about it because if they were in the captain's position, they would probably be the same. everyone just loved you too much.
"do you mind if i turned on the tv?" bucky asked, afraid that you wouldn't want background noise while you were reading but obviously you didn't mind so you shook your head as you continued to read. not long after, you closed your book with a bookmark between the pages you stopped at before shoving in into bucky's hands and running up into your room to quickly grab your blanket.
he watched you run out of the common room in confusion before chuckling when he saw you run back in looking tiny with a huge, fluffy blanket in your arms. you went back to your spot on the couch next to him, spreading the blanket over both your laps, bucky smiling fondly as he watched you fix it before turning to him. "comfy?" you asked and he nodded, giving you back your book as you cuddled up to him. he smiled down at you and wrapped an arm around you while you leaned against his chest.
"what's this? movie night without me?" you two looked up at the owner of the voice and saw sam walking in, making his way to the kitchen, probably to make himself some coffee. "what movie are you guys watching?" he asked, leaning against a pillar to look at the tv, trying to figure out what movie was playing.
"actually, only bucky's watching the movie—it's mean girls, by the way—and i'm just reading my book." you told sam without looking at him, lifting your book up high to show him before lowering it back down to continue reading it.
"barnes, what are you doing watching a movie while y/n is reading? she won't be able to focus with all that background noise, shut it off." sam told him off, now back in the kitchen to make his coffee. you shook your head at the man's antics. "sam, it's fine. i told him it was okay,"
"of course you did, you're too sweet to say no to anyone." he quipped back, now standing nearby, watching the tv too, seemingly interested in the movie playing. you only rolled your eyes playfully at him before going back to the book. after a few minutes of him just standing, bucky spoke up. "just sit down if you want to watch the whole movie, birdbrain."
and sit he did. on your other side, snuggling comfortably under your blanket after putting his now empty mug on the coffee table. this caused bucky to huff as he pulled the other end of the blanket which led to them having a tug-of-war over the blanket, you unfortunately stuck in the middle of it. deciding that it was too distracting to read while squished between two grown men who were also fighting for the blanket, you finally closed your book.
"sam, can you help me put this on the coffee table?" you handed sam your book and he immediately took it, stretching his body forward to place it on the coffee table. with the book out of the way, you could finally settle comfortably and the blanket was now shared between the three of you equally. not long after, your head was back against bucky's chest with his arm around you while your legs were over sam's lap under the blanket, one of his arms resting over it above the blanket. if it had been someone else doing that to sam, they probably would've had their legs chopped off already.
"movie night and you didn't invite me?" you chuckled at the question by the newcomer, tony, finding it funny how sam said almost the exact same prior to him. "you're welcome to join us, tony." you offered kindly, to which he replied with a small chuckle.
"i'm just kidding, cupcake. i came up for a drink and a little snack but that's it, i have stuff to finish down in the lab." you nodded understandingly, turning back to the screen in front of you.
"hey, stark, while you're there can you grab me a bottled water from the fridge?" bucky asked him. "oh yeah can you grab me chips from the snacks cabinet too?" sam added.
"you guys have legs for a reason, get them yourselves, i'm not your maid," tony sassed and you bit back a chuckle. bucky and sam then decided to rock-paper-scissors the situation to decide who had to get up and get the water and chips. bucky ended up losing and he begrudgingly got up and came back quickly with his water and sam's chips.
shortly afterwards, tony approached the three of you on the couch, with a juice box and a small bag of pretzels; your go-to movie snack. "here you go, cupcake." he handed them to you and you accepted them happily, beaming at him while he ruffled your hair.
bucky and sam shared a look of disbelief at tony's actions. "what gives, man? we asked for stuff and you didn't want to do it but y/n gets her stuff without even having to ask for it?" sam complained.
"that's because y/n's my baby. now shut up and let her watch the movie in peace." he scolds before leaving the common room, leaving the two men to huff in annoyance. it soon washed off though when you laughed out loud at a scene and they returned back to normal, loving the sound of your contagious laughter.
when the movie ended, it was already late and you had fallen asleep on an also asleep bucky. sam took a look at you and chuckled. he slowly removed the blanket from over himself and you, gently scooping you up into his arms and taking you back into your room, laying you down on your bed. he noticed the lack of blanket on your bed and remembered the blanket you brought down to the common room. he opened your closet for a spare blanket, retrieving it before covering you with it, tucking you in. "night, kiddo." he whispered, kissing your forehead before leaving the room.
next morning came and you groggily stretched, noticing that you were in your room. last you remembered was falling asleep mid movie. you deduced that it was most likely either bucky or sam who carried you back to bed. you went to your closet to grab work out clothes since you had training today, before realising what day today was. wanda's breakfast day. you quickly ran to the bathroom and got ready.
once you were done, you dried your hair and left your room, practically bouncing with excitement when you thought of what wanda probably made for breakfast. the week had been a bad breakfast week since everyone who had so far been tasked breakfast duty, sucked at cooking. the only good cook of the team was wanda, explaining your overexcitement.
before you could get far though, you slammed into a solid body, being caught by your wrists before you could fall. "be careful, lady y/n!" a deep voice spoke and you look up, a large smile on your face before you jumped happily, taking the man into a big hug. "thor! you're back!"
he laughed, returning the hug, you almost disappearing due to his big frame before you let go of each other. "where were you headed to so eagerly?"
"it's wanda's breakfast day, thor! i haven't had a decent breakfast all week because no one in this tower except wanda can cook to save their lives. come on, big guy!" you cheered, trying to get onto his back for him to give you a piggy back to the kitchen but he was too high for you to reach. he watched your attempt in amusement before bending down so you could get on his back. you gratefully got on, lightly patting his back and dramatically pointing ahead of you. "to the kitchen we go!"
when you two arrived in the kitchen, clint and wanda were talking as the latter made breakfast. thor's booming laughter echoed through the room as he zoomed with you on his back, laughing your heart out. "we have arrived to our destination, my lady." clint and wanda turned to you, adoring smiles on their faces when they heard you giggling uncontrollably.
"i thought you had more important things to do that you couldn't even walk 10 feet to grab me a spoon." clint raised his eyebrows at the demigod. "yes but y/n needed a ride so i provided her one." thor gave your hair a ruffle before he left the room, going to do what he initially left the kitchen for before you managed to get him to bring you back there.
"morning, kiddo." clint ruffled your hair right after you just fixed it, causing you to glare at him before fixing it again. "morning," you grumbled, sitting down next to him.
"morning, y/n!" wanda greeted, placing your plate of perfectly made blueberry pancakes with extra blueberries neatly placed on top, butter in the middle of it with maple syrup dripping down. your mouth watered. had it really been that long since you had a good breakfast or was it just because it was wanda's creation? or was it both? "here ya go, bubs. your favourite," she grinned at you, placing your glass of orange juice beside the plate.
"thanks, wands! i love you!" you thanked her, already beginning to dig into your breakfast.
"what the heck? you gave me burnt pancakes and didn't let me have extra blueberries because you said there already were some in the pancakes," clint whined to wanda from beside you, watching you eat happily.
"that's because the extra blueberries were for y/n, she loves them. and about the burnt pancakes...yea i just didn't want to give her burnt ones. look how happy she looks," the two turned to you, looking at your cheeks being filled up, making you look like an adorable squirrel.
"okay, fair point." clint slumped down on his chair, continuing to look at you fondly, like a proud father.
after breakfast, you made your way down to the training room where steve, nat and peter were training. when you entered, peter immediately noticed, waving and you from the treadmill with a huge smile on his face. nat, having just flipped steve over her her shoulders, smiled at you. "hey, bub." you smiled back at her and steve who struggled to give you a wave but did it anyways from his position.
"alright, y/n, you can warm up and run 2 miles first before we start." steve says once he had gotten up from his position on the ground. you mocked a salute before walking to the treadmills.
"what?! how is that fair? i'm running 5 miles!" peter exclaimed from beside you just as you started your run. "you're enhanced, peter. if anything, it's unfair for y/n/n. actually, that's right, it is unfair for her. y/n/n, you can go ahead and just do a mile."
peter's jaw dropped at this, his mouth opening and closing like fish out of water. "b–but.."
"get back to work, peter. once you're done, we'll start both your and y/n's training." the boy only huffed in annoyance, focusing back on his run while you smirked, internally cheering in victory.
"boy, that was tiring!" you dramatically plopped back onto the mat, limbs spread out as you tried to catch your breath. it had been a gruesome 3 hours of training and you were beat.
"y/n/n, get up. sam, bucky and clint's gotta train soon," nat tells you after steve and peter left and you were still sprawled out on the ground. "but i'm tired!" you whined childishly.
"y/n, if you don't get up, i'm gonna leave you here to be trampled on by the boys when they train." nat nagged, hands on her hips as she made a disapproving face at you.
"no you're not. you're gonna carry me to my room so i can shower and sleep soon." you tell her, eyes already closed as the fatigue washed over you. after a few seconds of silence, you heard her sigh out loud before you felt her crouching down beside you.
"get on my back in five seconds or i'll leave you." she threatened. you quickly opened your eyes, grabbing your small towel and water bottle before getting on nat's back. she mumbled something about you being lucky that she loves you or else she really was going to let sam, bucky and clint trample on you.
"what's wrong with her?" you could hear steve's concerned voice asking nat when you two reached—you assumed— the lobby. you were too tired to keep your eyes open so you left them closed while your arms were around nat's neck.
"nothing," you heard nat reply as she walked you both into the elevator. "kid's just too lazy to get up and walk on her own so she made me carry her." you internally rolled your eyes. she made it seem like she was forced to do it when everyone clearly knew she would do anything when it came to you.
you heard steve chuckle before nat started walking again, probably towards your room. you heard the door open and nat finally let you down, prompting you to open your eyes.
"do you want some food after you shower?" she questioned as you looked through your closet for comfy clothes to change to before ultimately deciding on cow print pyjama pants and an oversized tee you stole from steve.
"i'm good, nat, thanks. i just wanna take a nap." as if on cue, you yawned right after. "okay, bub. you'll have to get up later for dinner and movie night though, okay?" she reminded and left the room after you replied an 'okay' back.
when you were woken up a few hours later, it was by an annoying scream and a body bouncing on your bed. "y/n/n, wake up! it's dinner! mr stark ordered your favourite!"
you groaned, putting your pillow over your head to block out peter's annoying voice. "come on, y/n/n wake up! you haven't eaten since breakfast and it's movie night tonight!"
"okay, okay, i'm up. you can shut up now, pete." you grumbled crankily. it was quiet for a few seconds before peter yelled out once again. "wake u–"
he never got to finish though because you kicked him off the bed. "i said i'm up, dude." you then sat up, stretching before getting up to wash up, ignoring peter who was on the floor rubbing the side of his head which hit your lamp when he fell off your bed. he then got up, deciding to tidy your bed up a bit while he waited for you to finish washing up so that you two could go down together.
"is that my shirt?" was the first thing you heard when you walked in with peter. the team were all sitting, eating your food from your favourite place. "i uh, maybe?" you answered sheepishly, sitting down next to sam and peter settling down on your other side. "i've been looking for that shirt since forever."
"aw, let her have it, steve! she looks better in it than you do, she looks so adorable!" wanda screeched, absolutely adoring how tiny you looked in cap's enormous shirt. she continued to gush over you, even taking out her phone at one point to snap a picture of you. you chuckled at her antics, proceeding to eat your dinner while the team talked.
after dinner, everyone slowly made their way to the common room for team movie night. you guys collectively agreed to watch 'white chicks' after steve revealed that he hadn't watched it.
you sat down next to bruce, who gave you a tired smile when you smiled at him. he must've been working in the lab all day, you thought. halfway through the movie though, a bathroom break was called by tony. a few took the chance to get up and get snacks while you told bruce you were gonna sit closer to the tv since you couldn't hear properly with sam and bucky squabbling over every little thing they could. you could even hear them arguing in the kitchen at the moment over hot chocolate.
when tony came back, you told the two bickering children in the kitchen that you were starting the movie again. not long after you started, you could hear them still bickering, except now they were closer, probably back in their seats. poor bruce, you thought. you escaped the two but he was still stuck next to them.
meanwhile in the back, sam and bucky were still busy fighting over the hot chocolate. you paid them no mind as you focused on the movie, having not watched it in a hot minute.
"dude, i made this for myself! go make your own hot chocolate!" bucky whisper-yelled, moving his mug away from sam's reach when the latter tried to reach for it. "you took my snack now i'm gonna take your drink so it's fair!" sam countered.
before the two of them could stop it, the steaming hot chocolate spilt. not on the carpet, but onto the doctor whose patience had already been running thin with the two quarrelling next to him for the past hour.
his face slowly turned green, clearly a sign that he was fighting so that the other guy didn't come out. the team stared in horror, preparing for a fight to break out with the big green monster.
you, being the closest to the tv, didn't notice this all happening as you happily watched the movie that you couldn't hear properly for the past hour.
you laughed joyously when your favourite scene came on, trying to control your giggles that were starting to get louder and louder. bruce was currently hunched down, trying to even his breathing. but when he heard your laughter, he immediately looked up at you.
the team panicked, thinking that you could be a target for hulk since you just attracted attention to yourself. they were about to get up to protect you as they looked at bruce apprehensively, when the doctor smiled, the green on his neck slowly, but surely disappearing.
the team looked at each other in confusion and bruce smiled weakly at them. "sorry about that. i'm...i'm gonna move up and sit with y/n." he got up and made his way to you. you smiled when you saw him. "got tired of them too?" you joked and he nodded, making himself comfortable next to you.
you nodded and turned your attention back to the tv. it was clear you were oblivious to whatever just happened and the team couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. you really just unknowingly calmed down the hulk.
the team didn't know if you were aware of how much power you actually held over them. nevertheless, you were their little baby and they were willing to do anything for you.
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Some thoughts on Hocus Pocus, the Yu-Gi-Oh! Magic Zine
A while back I backed Hocus Pocus: The Yu-Gi-Oh! Magic Zine (@ygomagiczine) at the “Breaker The Magical Warrior” level, and not long ago I received my rewards, as pictured above:
Top left corner (and what I was honestly the most excited about): a Yu-Gi-Oh! themed Tarot deck—a complete one, not just the Major Arcana cards
A postcard with the “Eye of Wdjat” on it (sort of; Yu-Gi-Oh! calls it the Eye of Anubis because of that extra “tail” it has going to the left)
An adorable bookmark with chibi versions of the characters in their Monster World outfits (including the oft-forgotten Miho!), complete with little dice on the end (note: keep away from cats who like dangles)
A magnet you shouldn’t stare at too long, lest you get MIND CRUSHED!
A book explaining the meanings of the Tarot Cards
A sticker crossing over Yu-Gi-Oh! with Sailor Moon, with Seto as Tuxedo Mask and Atem as Sailor Moon, holding the Millennium Rod. I have some... thoughts... about it, but it’s generally well-done, a quality sticker, and funny at a bare minimum
The actual Hocus Pocus zine, filled with all kinds of fan art, fanfiction, and other fan creations.
A “spell book” with absolutely GORGEOUS freaking art on the cover
A pin of... somebody (the white haired character with a pink face and red eyes. Is it Bakura? Is it Pegasus? I have no idea)
A pink “Anzu” chain featuring a tiny bottle of pink glitter, a feather charm, and a witch hat charm (which I assume is a nod to Anzu’s RPG character, an Elven Mage) - unfortunately the leather strap popped out of the jump spring when I tried to put it on, but it’s an easy enough fix since I have jewelry tools.
An “Anubis” eye pin inside of a gold “magical runes” circle
All the little jewelry bits came inside those gorgeous drawstring bags you see next to the Tarot Deck-- that same gauzy material most jewelry bags are made of, but with a beautiful metallic screen printing on it that looks like coral or branches of a tree or something. There’s also another, smaller one that has gold roses with silver leaves; reminds me of one of the Twelve Dancing Princesses books.
Okay, so let’s start with the zine itself. I’ll get to the Tarot Deck and Spell Book in another post.
The zine got delayed a bit due to some contributors unfortunately dropping out, but as soon as I heard (and they did have pretty immediate response times on social media and through email), they already had the empty slots filled, so that was reassuring.
Of what ended up in the zine, the art is phenomenal. There’s honestly nothing I can say I dislike at all in terms of the art. My absolute favorite is Magi Magi ⭐️ Magician Girls by @jujuoh; I’m still trying to figure out who each of the “Sailor Senshi” are! (I recognize all of the “Magician Girls” and Mahad, plus Lily, but I’m not sure about the other three in the back. If you know, please tell me!)
What isn’t art is fanfiction though, and here’s where things get a bit tricky for me personally, as I am a devourer of the written word, a librarian by trade, and an editor by profession (part-time).
At the start of the zine, there are the following tags:
Yugi x Ryou
Bakura x Ryou
Marik x Ryou
Bakura x Marik
Seto x Joey
Seto x Atem
Yugi x Atem
Duke x Rebecca
Yugi x Joey
Yugi x Atem x Seto x Joey
I can understand using the dub names, if the belief is that more of the contributors and readers will use/prefer them. Of course, that makes me the reader think that if a fic is tagged with, say, Duke x Rebecca, then I won’t see the names Ryuuji and Rebecca in the story instead. This is I think why the fandom ‘ship names, like Puzzleshipping and Prideshipping make more sense here, but I get why some people won’t know what ‘ships are what based off those names.
Second thing is that there are NO het ships of any kind on this list outside of Duke x Rebecca, and the fic isn’t really “shippy” at all. That kind of bugs me.
Also, despite Yu-Gi-Oh being about Yuugi, Jounouchi/Joey, Anzu/Téa, Honda/Tristan, Ryou, and Kaiba, with appearances by such famed and important characters as Mai, Pegasus, Isis, Rishid, and Malik, there are scant mentions/depictions of many of them. Anzu, I think, got depicted twice in fanart (I’m counting a comic as fanart) besides the back cover; Isis twice; Mai once. Mana/Black Magician Girl appeared the most out of any female character.
Despite the above list of tags, not all of them actually appear in the zine. So if you found your OTP in this list and flipped through trying to find the tag, you might be sorely disappointed. Now, that is assuming that they don’t appear in the stories based on the tag; if they did appear but they weren’t properly tagged, I don’t know about it.
There is a note indicating that the zine didn’t want to impose any styles, ideologies, voices, and formats, which explains why there might be shift in what the tags are vs. what the story uses. However, for a reader, that could potentially be confusing. I mean, it’s a fanzine, so theoretically anyone receiving/reading it should know that Ryuuji = Duke and so forth, but not everyone will. Your friendly neighborhood Tumblr Librarian would like to remind you that zines are often ordered by/donated or gifted to/end up in libraries, and that means people who are unfamiliar with a fandom might pick it up the way they would any other book or magazine.
Finally, while I’m 100% fine with a zine not imposing rules about names, ‘ships, etc., I do think basic grammar is a must. Sentences should end in periods, the font should be legible and printed clearly in a dark ink on a light background, and if you have a piece of dialogue “like this,” it should end in an attribute tag, like so:
“First, I’ll need to get some gold,” Yuugi explained. “Then I’ll need to buy a potion and two elixirs.”
GRAMMAR IS NOT A STYLISTIC CHOICE. It exists to make things readable. (Can you tell I really dislike those pretentious authors who think that capital letters represent The Man or something, or that one space after a period is simply too New School?)
If this is somehow difficult to enforce/gently suggest, an editor is warranted. That editor should have English as their first language and be intimately familiar with both the fandom and the written word. With fanfic online, if I see something that refuses to use periods or doesn’t properly space out its paragraphs (or whatever), I can just click back and be done with it. No harm, no foul to anybody. But with a zine I’ve paid for? I expect to be able to read a good percentage of the stories regardless of whether or not they’re my favorite genre/’ship/tropes. In fact, I feel like being able to read 100% of the zine is warranted, all other things being equal.
Next thing is that there are genre tags:
Slice of Life ← I don’t personally regard this as a “genre” so much as a trope, but okay.
Afterlife ← Also not a genre, but could be a Trope and/or Trigger warning, depending on how it’s used. Except... it wasn’t used. At all, from what I could find.
These are followed by three handy trigger warnings:
These tags are at the BOTTOM of the first page of a story, when they should be at the TOP.
The zine is written in English, by/for English-speaking audiences. We read left-to-right, top-to-bottom. Important information like tags should be presented at the top. Imagine if an archive like AO3 or FFnet hid that information inside a story rather than on a fandom listing page, or a search result page? You’d spend a lot more time sifting through things you really don’t want to read.
As far as the tags go, many fics have multiple tags, which makes sense; plenty of stories can easily fall into two genres, maybe more if you’re pushing it. But these are one-shots (short stories), and I really don’t expect a given story to have more than three tags.
The majority of the stories (8) were tagged Alternate Universe, with only one Hurt/Comfort fic and NO fics using the Afterlife tag that appeared in the beginning. Not to mention, there are plenty of other (hugely popular) genres that aren’t represented at all, like Drama, Romance, or even Comedy.
I’m not sure if the “theme” is meant to be magic (Hocus Pocus being the title and all), or simply a nice nod to the magical nature of the Yu-Gi-Oh! series, but you’d think there’d be more of a balance between in-universe stories and AUs than such a preponderance of AUs over anything else.
Bear in mind that many of the stories were cross-tagged, so an AU might also feature Action/Adventure, or a Slice of Life just happens to be an AU as well.
I don’t have anything against AUs. But if I buy a fandom zine, I want to read stuff featuring the characters, situations, and themes presented in the original fandom, not necessarily people wearing “masks” of those characters but otherwise not acting like them at all.
That being said, I personally differentiate alternate universe stories from alternate timeline stories, where you ask a crucial “What If,” like “What if Atem never forgot his name?” or “What if Atem won the Ceremonial Duel?” or something like that, and canon DIVERGES from a specific point, even one that happened “off-screen,” like the real events leading up to Zork’s original sealing, etc.
I do like how there was more Gen than I initially realized, but it’s harder for me (personally) to enjoy Gen when it’s AU.
There should be additional tags. Some fics had crass/foul language, but there was no “Rating” system in place to indicate that (the MPAA/Fiction Ratings systems have simplified letters to tell you whether there will be mentions of things like sex/nudity, crass/foul language, drug use, and/or violence; tags help clarify WHICH ones will be present for fanfic). Basically, a fic in a zine should utilize the same tags it would on an archive like FFnet or AO3.
Ship tags indicate there will be some level of romance/sex: Name x Name (romantic/sexual), Name & Name (platonic/friendly), or Name/Name (romantic/sexual/usually same sex). If the tags are used to indicate which CHARACTERS are in a story instead (versus pairings), that’s just confusing.
Quiet Friend and Return, Regain, Refresh don’t have any ‘ship or genre tags at all; the latter story only has trigger warnings, which is also confusing.
My favorite stories of the bunch (bearing in mind I did not read any ‘ship stories, for the most part):
A Stranger to Your Soul by Inkyrius - The fandom needs more Mokuba fic. ‘Nuff said.
Two Roads Converge by @mainstream-deviant - freaking adorable, with a touch of “omg pls don’t sweet bebby no” because it’s NOT an AU
You Look Familiar by @ink-flavored - I’m 100% biased because I’m a cat fan, but this is a well-done AU with a fantasy twist. Joey as a werewolf is downright hilarious. Vivid and adventurous in very few pages.
In summary, a high-quality set of fanmade items, though with some weaknesses that I think could be improved upon for either a second printing or a second edition/volume.
I applaud every single contributor, moderator, and artist for the hard work they have put into such a beautiful package of goods for the Yu-Gi-Oh! fandom.
As a Tarot reader, I do have some specific, detailed thoughts on the Tarot deck and its accompanying book, plus the only other book, the “Spell Book” that came with the set. But I’ll save those for another time.
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Great Day (Ch. 2)
A/N: Second chapter woohoo. I have a taglist for it now so if you’re interested just let me know thru comments or you can shoot me a message and I’ll add you. I am shooting for 10-12 chapters for this fic, I usually suck at pacing so we will see. Next chapter will be smutty and dark so fair warning! (Seems like da reader is a lil flirt teehee.) Also thank you @kugutsuu for beta reading 💜
Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon, Humiliation, Degradation, Emotional & Physical Abuse, Somnophilia, Bloodplay, Knifeplay, Misogynistic tendencies, Yandere tendencies, Cuckolding.
Pairing: incel!Shiggy x f!Reader (DARK WEB AU)
“A sorority of course,” he snarls, “should’ve seen it coming.”
His index finger toggles the scroll wheel, he passes by hundreds of pictures, it seems like you enjoyed campus life, judging from all three-hundred photos in your album. It looks just as bad as it does in those cheesy rom-coms, Shigaraki would rather work over-time for the rest of his life than do another four years of schooling. It was pointless, he’s taken a peek at the courses, all the material was elementary to him. He wasn’t about to pay an arm and a leg for useless information, it was much smarter diving straight into the work-force, at least then he wouldn’t be a slave to loan-sharks. Your social media didn’t give him much to work with, you haven’t updated your profile in a few months. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this, he didn’t need to do this. This information was practically useless at the end of the day, so what if you went to the beach last summer? So what if you enjoy baking on the weekends? None of this mattered, you didn’t matter. Shigaraki still bookmarks the page.
“Oh, hey.” You knit your brows. “How did you get here?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think I texted you my address yet?”
His fingers tremble in his pockets, he fucked up, he fucked up bad. Shigaraki may have left out a small detail, in addition to snooping around on your social media page, he paid a few other sites a visit. It was too simple, your address and your birthdate were a piece of cake, and what a coincidence you only lived a couple of blocks down. It must have slipped his mind, you never sent him that text, but he had memorized the street address subconsciously, the second he shut off his PC he was already shrugging on his hoodie. An excuse, he needs an excuse, something, anything. He’s unable to brainstorm, panic and fear begin to whirl around in his mind, you were probably already coming to the conclusion. Just as you suspected right? The nerd from the computer-parts store was a freak, just like you thought. Worst of all, Shigaraki wouldn’t be able to defend himself, perhaps this is what he truly was, just a fucking freak.
You hold the device up to your face. “At least I don’t think I did—”
He cuts you off, “Nice complex, a lot better than mine. Neighborhood looks pretty safe too.”
“Oh, yeah it is.” Your arm falls. “I’ve only lived here for a year, but I quite like it.”
His breathing calms, relief. He was so fixated on the situation, he hadn’t picked up on your attire. It wasn’t as scandalous as he expected, you had a large blue bathrobe draped over your frame, the collars hung a little too loose, exposing a patch of your chest. The number was long enough to cover your intimate flesh, but short enough to have his mind wandering. You were naked under there. Shigaraki swallows the lump in his throat.
“You can come in,” you giggle, “it’s a bit cold out there isn’t it?”
He nearly gasps when he steps in, the scent, it’s overwhelming. Your house is an exact reflection of you, tidy and well-kept. There was very little clutter, your furniture was simple, but it was clear you spent some time designing the lay-out. He scoffs thinking back to his own place, Shigaraki didn’t even have a couch.
“Follow me,” you beam at him before you turn around and scurry down a hall. Shigaraki trails behind you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. You were rambling about something, work? School? Your friends? He stopped listening after he noticed the picture frames lining the shelves. They’re your family, or at least that’s what he assumes. You’re a child in some, a teenager in others, the farther he walks the older you get. It’s cliche, but it draws a subtle smile out of him, you look ecstatic in one of your graduation photos. But there’s one, one that causes his smile to falter, one that doesn’t seem like the others. It’s framed in blue, you’re next to a man, his arm around your shoulder, you’re looking up at him and he’s smiling down at you. Could be a brother? Perhaps a cousin? The man looks a little too young to be an uncle. You two seem a little too close for comfort.
He snaps his head when you speak up, “Work must be tiring for you too huh?”
“Oh, yeah,” Shigaraki snorts, “definitely.”
He glances back at the picture, his brows furrow. With one flick of his finger, the frame falls back gently, his smile reappears. “So where's the PC again?”
If the scent in your living-room was overwhelming, Shigaraki was practically suffocating in your bedroom. His chest heaves slightly at every whiff of the aroma, another minute or so and he’d grow drowsy. His eyes dart around to familiarize himself, he catches a few pleated skirts hanging around your closet door knob, a bra dangling from your headboard, and of course he notices the pair of pink panties right beneath your desk. To put it simply, there was too much estrogen lingering around and he was beginning to grow tense. You don’t help when you sneak up behind him, your hand hovering over his shoulder. He jolts forward, his heart hammering. You ask, “Are you okay? Do you need some water?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he clears his throat, “so this is the PC?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“It’s pretty nice.” He crouches down, running the tips of his fingers across the matte case. “I bet it was expensive.”
“How do you know I didn’t build it?”
Shigaraki turns to quirk a brow at you. “I’d be impressed if you built this, but had no idea what ‘malware’ was.”
A small smile curls onto your lips. “Well perhaps you could teach me sometime.”
“You want me to teach you a lot of things,” he grumbles.
He slouches down in your office chair, eyes narrowed on the screen. The only sounds that fill the room are the repetitive clicking of the mouse, you ask him questions along the way but he only responds with grunts and huffs. The only time he engages in conversation is when he spots familiar icons on your desktop. He questions you with suspicion, “Do you play these games?”
“The ones on my computer?”
“Kinda’, I’ve dabbled in a few.”
“What’s your favorite?”
“Those dress-up games online.”
The corner of his lips pull when he catches you scoff, you cross your arms and roll your eyes, “Real funny.”
“You’re not denying it.”
You question him about his choice in games, he ignores you and points at the screen to explain, “I downloaded some software for you, it’s just a free-trial so it’ll expire in about a month. You’ll have to pay after that, it’s not that expensive, I have a premium version and I only pay ten bucks a month. It should save you from viruses considering you like to go on”—he turns back to the screen to squint his eyes—”hentaigames4free.com.”
“Oh God, I don’t really play those—it’s just an ad that—”
He huffs, “That website is lame, the interface is garbage.”
“It would be weird if I knew the name and didn’t.”
Shigaraki hates you, he hates that you’re proving him wrong. He couldn’t have misread you, there was a stereotype and you fit it perfectly. But here you were, taking him to sites he’s been on, that he’s stroked his cock to. You point out the mini-flash games you like, you two had different tastes, but your choices were respectable. You turn to him and ask if he’s played these, if he likes them, Shigaraki doesn’t nod or shake his head. If he agrees, you’d know, you’d be able to picture him in front of his screen with his cock in his hand, jerking it to some cartoon.
“I’m always super embarrassed when someone finds out I play games like these, or I’m into nerd shit.”
“Are you embarrassed now?”
“Well not really.”
“Because I’m a nerd?”
It was meant to be a joke, but judging from the expression plastered on your face you sure didn’t take it as one. Shigaraki lets out a drawled out sigh before he stands up, he shoves his hands in his pockets and mumbles, “Well, see you I guess.”
“Oh, you’re leaving?”
He cocks his head slightly. “Well, what else should I do?”
You leave your desk to stalk over to your bed, you plop yourself onto the tousled sheets. “I don’t know, maybe you just wanted to hang for a bit? I feel bad bringing you all the way over here and making you go back so soon.”
“Okay, whatever I guess.”
You giggle, “Are you just gonna’ stand there then?”
“What do you want me to do?”
You pat the space beside you, Shigaraki feels his knees buckle when you curl a finger to signal him closer. At this angle, he’s able to make out the expansion of your chest, somehow the collars of the robe have draped lower. There’s a slit in between your lap now, it stretches from your waist and ends at your knees, your thighs on full display. When he finally meets your gaze, his breath hitches, you have a look in your eye, it’s unfamiliar.
There are thousands of posts on his favorite forum dedicated to women, to how they function, how they flirt, hell, there’s a whole category solely for them. But honestly, it was quite obvious none of these incels knew what they were talking about, they were just as clueless as he was. Flirting was a foriegn concept, Shigaraki was used to scowls and whispers, not smiles and subtle touches. He’s frustrated because he’s confused, you’re confusing him. The urge is back, his neck begins to tingle, if you weren’t staring him down he’d have his finger-nails etched into the scarred skin by now.
“Tomura?” You whisper, “are you not gonna’ come over?”
“Oh, yeah.” He’s certain his heart missed a beat, or two. He’s forgotten how ethereal his name sounded slipping from your lips. He wants to loiter around the corner for a few more seconds, perhaps you’d call out for him again.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” You ask again. “You’re so tense, you can relax you know, I won’t bite.”
“I know,” he replies curtly, “I’m fine.”
When you scoot to your left, he scoots a few inches to his. You don’t seem to notice. “So, tell me about yourself, is there more to you besides computers? I mean, there must be.”
He’d like to think there is, but now that you’ve put him on the spot, he begins to realize there isn’t. He’s some minimum-wage creep infatuated with the cyberworld, is that what you want to hear? There’s no point comparing, you two are night and day. You’re one big confirmation; your pictures, the hanging calendar littered with words, and your smile. Shigaraki rarely smiled, and you never frowned. He’s a bit annoyed you’re asking, as if you don’t know the answer yourself.
You know there’s nothing else to him.
You know that.
He pulls out his phone to check the time, but his screen is shielded by your finger. You gasp, “Hey, you play that game? You know that character?”
“I’m more surprised you do.”
There you go again, chattering away about the character and game. Apparently, it’s one of your favorites, you’ve been playing it since it first released in June. He doesn’t even realize you have your phone out now, your screen shoved right in his face. “I cosplayed her,” you chuckle, “well, I attempted to, I went to a convention a few months ago. These are the pictures.”
You’re beautiful, of course you’re beautiful. You look just like her, the outfit could use a little work, but if he ran into you at the convention he’d be starstruck for sure. You raise your brows, you’re looking for an opinion, he breathes out, “The top is a bit inaccurate.”
“I had to make this myself you know,” you murmur, “it took me like two weeks.”
“I can tell.”
You muse, “But do you like it? Does it look accurate?”
You offer him a small smile before you start swiping right, now you’ve delved into other characters, there are hundreds of photos. He recognizes some characters, his lips pull when he spots one of his favorite RPG mages, and damn did you fill out that chest-plate well. That reminds him of his current predicament, he’s loomed over your side, your nipple is barely visible in this position. His jeans tighten at the glimpse of your protruding bud, should he alert you? No, why would he, then you’d know he was staring. Instead he settles for shifting uncomfortably, you pick up on his awkward movements and call him out right away, “Did you not like that one?”
“No, you look pretty,” he stutters, “I mean—I mean you look good, it’s a good cosplay.”
You clutch your chest. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
You’re laying back on the bed now, your elbows are propping you up slightly. Shigaraki is beginning to synthesize the situation. He’s on your bed, you’re practically naked, and you’re trying your absolute best to initiate some type of conversation with him. You’re flirting. It’s a bit uncomfortable for him, your process is odd but he can appreciate your effort. He matches your position, situating himself on his elbows. He says, “It’s nine o’clock, it’s getting late.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty late, do you have to go somewhere?”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Do you want to leave?”
“I asked you first.”
You giggle, “What do you want to do if you stay?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is this boring you?”
Your face scrunches, he smirks at your irked expression. “You asked, I responded.”
He’s not bored, he’s panicking, panicking because you were a mere two inches away. You were glancing at him with hooded-eyes and a subtle smile, and it seems like your hand was itching to reach out to him. You confirm his theory when you raise your hand to gently push his bangs back. You erupt into laughter at his frazzled face, “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“I prefer it down.”
“But I don’t prefer it down.”
“It’s not your hair.”
You pout. “You look grim with your hair down, frightening.”
“That’s what I’m going for.”
You trace your finger from his temple all the way down to the corner of his jaw. You whisper, “You have paper-like skin, it’s very transparent, super pale.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“It suits you.”
“I wouldn’t mind if it didn’t.”
Crimson eyes pick up on the curl of your lips, you’re entertaining yourself by twirling a blue lock around your finger. This was something out of a movie, it felt surreal, you felt surreal. His heart had only battered this hard twice in his life; once during one intense ranked match and one other time when he nearly dropped a 4K monitor. You were his third time.
He was falling, he was falling for a girl.
He was falling for you.
Women were vexing creatures, but he never felt threatened nor irritated by you. He was unable to detect any malicious intent, your words were naive and blunt, but genuine and comforting. He had forgotten all about his social status, in reality, women like you would never hang around men like him, but this wasn’t reality, it couldn’t be. Acceptance felt refreshing after years of rejection, the fact you were gorgeous was just a bonus. Shigaraki hums, “I think your skin suits you as well.”
You chuckle, “Thanks I guess.”
“I was just returning the compliment.”
You flash him a smile. “Hey, I don’t know if I thanked you earlier but, thanks again for coming over.” The blue strand falls gracefully against his cheek when you withdraw your hand. “How much were you looking for again, you never told me?”
“A thousand?” You scoff, “Isn’t that a bit much.”
“I can do maybe a hundred, sound good?”
“Keep your money,” he snorts, “don’t need it.”
“At least let me pay you a little, I’ll feel bad,” you whine.
A hand wraps around your wrist when you attempt to swat his chest, he taunts you, “Just as I expected, weak.”
“Excuse me? I am not weak.”
“You’re a girl, of course you’re weak.” You prove his point when you come at him with your other hand, that wrist is seized as well. You’re pretty determined aren’t you? He releases you only to grab hold of your hands again when you lunge at him, he’s quite amused at your persistence. In fact, he’s so amused, he’s snickering, chuckling, laughing. He can’t remember the last time he’s emitted the sound, it’s been too long, it sounds foreign reverberating in his ears. He doesn’t pay any mind to it, he’s way too enamored with your laugh. You’re wriggling around in his grip, mewling and giggling when he tugs you closer. The corner of his lips begin to crack from the stretch of his smile, this is fun, he was having fun.
“Let go,” you whimper, “you win, you win.”
He pulls at your arm until your noses barely brush against each other. Piercing vermillion orbs have softened to a dull mercury, your eyes flutter open a few seconds later.
Tomura Shigaraki is in love.
“Hey,” he breathes out, “I don’t know—”
“You’re a lot stronger than you look,” you pant out, “you’re worse than my boyfriend.”
Taglist: @emilytheeggy @duf3h6237 @naver-girl @nudgenookie @sunshinepunches @awkward-confused @drownedbytears @hotwings0203 @dee-madwriter @mr-bombastic
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Hi! Can you do a one shot college au Jotaro x reader? The idea is: all Joestars are brothers and they create a playlist for Jotaro that he'll have to make the reader listen to as a way to confess. All the songs are romantic, except the last one which is an addition from Joseph, Josuke and Jolyne and which would be "E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE", just to embarrass him in front of the reader and also to make a funny moment lolol You are a very talented writer! I'm happy that I found you on tumblr:D
This anon has my heart, you’re so sweet!!! I’m so sorry this took so long!!! I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Cursing and lots of fluff!
I Should Have Never Asked For Help
It is a well-known fact among the Joestars that Jotaro is bad with words. Comically so. The only way he’d ever say “I love you,” to the rest of them would be through gritted teeth, pulling his signature black cap over his eyes. They loved him all the same, knowing how he cared for his family deep down, but they all acknowledged how affection was never his strong-suit.
That’s why when Joseph claimed Jotaro had the hots for someone, nobody believed him. Joseph and Jotaro shared a math class at university, and Joseph was picking up on the lingering stares he sent your way during lectures. When you started a study group before finals, he was the first to sign up. Joseph was taken aback when you greeted Jotaro before class, and he didn’t tell you to fuck off. He knew something was up with his little brother, and having no respect for boundaries, he couldn’t help but tease.
Usually huffing in response, Jotaro would brush off his older brother’s teasing. While he did feel something towards you, he certainly didn’t have the means to act on it. Jotaro wasn’t entirely used to the feeling, and he was happy with how things were. As Joseph’s teasing grew more bold and incessant, making kissy faces whenever you were around, Jotaro started to get pissy. Even the lightest of teasing while you were nearby really pushed Jotaro’s buttons.
One day, when Joseph made a comment about catching Jotaro staring at you while you were within earshot, it all boiled over. Jotaro ushered his brother away from you, hiding his blushing face under his hat as he finally admitted to Joseph that he did have a thing for you. Ecstatic, Joseph insisted Jotaro ask you out. Jotaro had thought about it, for sure, but he admitted to his brother he didn’t know how. While girls tended to gravitate towards Jotaro in highschool, he’d never asked anyone out on a proper date before.
Thinking back on how he won Suzie Q over with a mixtape, Joseph got an idea to help his brother. When the pair got home, Joseph pulled out his phone and asked each Joestar sibling their favorite love song, hoping someone’s music taste would overlap with yours. There was a good variety in there, too; some slow, sweet songs picked out by Jonathan and Giorno, some light pop picked out by Josuke, and some fun additions from Jolyne and Joseph himself.
When Jolyne asked what this was for, Joseph confided with her that this was to help Jotaro ask someone out. A mischievous glint appeared in her eye, never missing an opportunity to mess with her older brother. Being pretty active online, Jolyne had become very familiar with Corpse Husband and the millions of fangirls raving about him 24/7, and she’d heard his signature song a handful of times. The edgy, deep-voiced Internet personality kind of reminded her of her brother, so she couldn’t resist pulling his leg a little bit.
Getting a notification on his phone, Jotaro saw that Joseph had sent him the completed playlist. He let out a deep sigh, too nervous to look at the songs they had picked out, and even more nervous to show them to you. Trusting his siblings, just this once, he put his phone down and went to bed.
The next day, Jotaro got up early to meet with you before classes started. He took extra care to get himself ready, brushing his teeth for an extra few seconds and applying slightly more cologne than usual. He was nervous beyond belief, leaving the house without a word to an excited Joseph to find you.
You usually met him inside the library, which housed your study room, but he was surprised to see you standing outside the building. Smiling and waving as you saw him, you motioned for him to follow you inside. Had you been waiting for him?
“How are you, Jojo?” you hum, making your way into the study room and taking your normal seat at the table. Jotaro made a huffing noise and shrugged in response. Warm, morning sunlight poured into the room as you pulled the textbooks from your bag, quickly glancing at your phone to see the other few members of your group couldn’t make it today.
“Looks like it’s just us today,” you sigh to him, opening up your textbook to the bookmarked page, “We left off here last time-”
“-Wait, before we start,” he cut you off, capturing your attention as you readied your materials, “You’re into music, right?”
You chuckled lightly in response, “Who isn’t?”
He gulped, pulling his phone from his pocket as he fiddled around to find where he had saved the playlist. Thank god he had a good poker face, his body a bundle of nerves as he hoped it didn’t show. His only tell were the few beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he turned to face you, showing you his device.
“I made you a playlist,” he stated in almost monotone, trying to hide how his cheeks pinked when your smile widened at his words. Truly taken aback, you couldn’t hide your own blush as you took the phone from his hands, adjusting the screen to see it better in the morning light. The playlist was titled simply, ‘For (y/n)’, but it still made your heart flutter.
“Thank you Jotaro, this is really sweet!” You chime at him, Jotaro only nodding in response, “May I play it?”
Jotaro gulped again. This was it.
You hit play, placing the phone on the table as you quietly thanked Jotaro once again. Slow notes began playing, Jotaro’s nervous ticks showing more, his foot anxiously tapping against the carpet. This song was a cheesy classic, surely a pick by Jonathan: Elvis’s I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You. It was a little on-the-nose for his taste, but he watched as you got an excited glint in your eyes as you recognized the first few bars.
“I love this song!” you chirp, happily grooving along as you begin moving your attention back to your textbook. He nervously wondered if the meaning of the playlist was lost on you. It released the tension in his body, the thought of rejection flying out the window, but he was left with a bit of disappointment in his gut. Ideally, you would have caught on and returned his affections, but that gratification would never come.
You continued to enjoy the music as you worked, quietly singing along as you two quizzed each other on the various concepts. You enjoyed the varied music, some songs slower and others more upbeat. As you continued to listen, you paid more attention to the words- were these songs all romantic?
“I didn’t take you for a sap, Jojo,” you jested, “These are all pretty lovey-dovey!”
“-That’s the point.”
He was surprised with his own boldness, all his nerves returning as he saw your eyes go wide in realization. Quickly going tomato red, your heart thumped in your chest as you put it together that Jotaro was asking you out. While you had developed a little crush on him yourself, you never thought he would ever reciprocate your feelings, let alone make the first move.
“Oh!” you shakily breathe, “This is- wow, this is out of left field!”
“Is this weird?” he hesitantly asked, letting slip a little anxiousness in his voice. Touching his hand, you reach out to him.
“Oh no no no-” you hurriedly reassure, “No! I really like it, Jojo!”
You take a deep breath as you finish your thought.
“I really like you, Jojo!”
With that, he lets slip a breathy sigh from his lips, giving you a rare smile as he reciprocates your touch. He places his thumb over the back of your palm, rubbing a little circle on it as he wipes the sweat from his brow.
“That’s a relief,” he jokingly murmured, sharing a little laugh with you as the song that was playing ended. You both were caught off guard as a new, louder song filled the room.
CHOKE ME LIKE YOU HATE ME BUT YOU LOVE ME-
Immediately he went red again, whispering his annoyed catchphrase to himself as he put his hand to his cap. You couldn’t hold your laughter as the filthy Corpse song filled your ears.
“Now this is more your style!” you tease him, nudging him lightly.
“I didn’t make it alone,” he confesses, giving you a small smile as the shock wore off, “But this is the last time I ask for help.”
I Hope you enjoyed! I also made a playlist based off this fic for my sweet anon:
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the very insecure dr reid ; spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
summary: “Could you write another fic about early Spence where he’s all insecure” combined with another request :) 5730 words
a/n: title taken from s1e5!! i wrote this months ago aka before i decided to try to make my fics gender neutral and i tried to make the appropriate changes but im also a dumbass so! yeah!
Spencer is a man of science, if you didn’t already know.
This means he doesn’t spend his time fretting over what isn’t there, what doesn’t have facts and evidence to back it up. Of course, he dabbles in reading conspiracy theories and enjoys learning about various religions and things of that sort, but these are to expand his already infinite knowledge, not because he particularly believes in them.
The first time he believed there was some kind of God was when you kissed him.
It was after the case where both Elle and Spencer were trapped on a train with a paranoid schizophrenic – he still remembers how you reacted when he agreed to being sent in, how you tried to keep it light-hearted but pulled him aside to solemnly tell him you didn’t think you’d be able to live without him (if you do something rash and stupid, Spencer, I swear to God-). You threatened to nipple cripple him if he did die, and it was weirdly motivating.
After he was checked over, and teased Elle about saving her life, you came crashing into him with an audible oof and a whisper of, “God you smell so good I’m so glad you’re okay don’t ever do that again.” It was probably the adrenaline, the near-death experience high, but instead of gently pushing you away like he’d do with anyone else, he discovers your waist has a wonderful dip that his arms fit perfectly into as he tugs you close.
He’s hugged people before, obviously, but it’s always different with you.
You must think so, too, because when you pull away just enough that you’re still in his arms but can clearly see his face, you take a minuscule intake of breath that Spencer wouldn’t notice if he wasn’t, you know, Spencer.
A strand of Spencer’s hair falls from where it was tucked, falling into his line of sight. Without hesitation you’re pushing it back, fingertips brushing against Spencer’s cheek as you fold the hair back behind his ear. Your eyes meet when there’s no obstruction, electricity crackling in Spencer’s ears when he realises there’s nothing between you, nothing stopping you, and there’s something about the lack of space between you and how he holds you that just makes you ask-
“Would it be weird if I kissed you right now?”
Immediately, Spencer thinks yes. Not because he doesn’t want you to (he couldn’t think of anything better to do, to be honest), or because of where you are (although, knowing the whole team is not far away does make him feel a little funny), it’s because he’s him. Gangly, awkward, with very sweaty hands that feel at home on your body, and you don’t want to kiss that. You can’t want to.
Yet, he shakes his head, and finds himself copying you when you lean in and close your eyes.
It’s short, sweet, and somewhat weird. He thinks he blacks out, loses himself in your lips despite it happening so quickly.
When you pull back, Spencer’s eyes remain closed for a good few seconds before he’s brought back to Earth. And he doesn’t know what to say - pretty people don’t just… kiss him. They certainly don’t ask if they can kiss him, then follow through, and… stare at him like that.
“Has anyone seen Reid? Y/L/N?”
Whatever was supposed to happen after, whether it was good or bad, you’ll never know. Hotch’s footsteps are thundering towards you and, despite your daze, you step away from Spencer just as he spots you.
The second time he believed there was a God, he asked you on a date. And you said yes.
Neither of you mention the kiss. In your defence, he supposes, it happened merely an hour ago – everyone’s rushing to get back to Quantico so no one’s had time to make any kind of small talk, let alone have the talk after a kiss.
Elle gives Spencer a look of confusion when she slides past him, moving into the jet as he hovers in the entryway. He’s obviously waiting for someone, passing out tight lipped smiles to the team when they all squeeze past. Spencer isn’t a big guy, but it’s bizarre for him to be standing there like that, swaying like the palm tree he is – he’s usually setting up for yet another game of chess with Gideon at this moment.
Then you shuffle on, faltering when you catch him waiting for you but smile nonetheless. He straightens, hands remaining in his pockets when his mouth opens to speak. You interrupt him (before he can make a fool of himself, thank God).
“Wanna sit together?” You ask, eyes never leaving his. He nods and follows you like the lost puppy he is.
The second you invite him to sit next to you instead of opposite he wants to pull you tight into his side, but that seems like too much. He’s not Derek, for Heaven’s sake, and you’re not Garcia – all you’ve done is kiss once and really, when he thinks about it, you were probably on an adrenaline high too, so it might’ve been a heat of the moment thing. It happens, Spencer’s read about it, and although it would break his heart that it meant nothing, it’s likely. Oh, it’s so likely.
Spencer might be the first one on the team to cry on the BAU jet.
Halfway home, the team is lost in their own pass-times to notice when you bookmark your page and place your book on the table.
“Spence,” You whisper, testing if he’s awake.
He is. He hasn’t been able to catch a wink of sleep, no matter how hard he tries. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry if what I did earlier- you know-“ You gesture vaguely in the air, completely oblivious to the fact Spencer is very familiar with what happened earlier because he can’t stop replaying it, “-If that made you uncomfortable. Or if I forced you, or-“
“Would it be weird if I asked you on a date when we land?”
The grin you send him shoots straight to his heart, eyes crinkling with laughter at his echo of the words you used earlier. If you notice you don’t mention it, but his hands can’t stop fidgeting under the table, slick with sweat.
“It’d only be weird if you don’t kiss me after.” You say.
His brows furrow, a small incredulous laugh leaving him. “What? Why?”
“We’ve already had our first kiss, so it’s out of the way.”
“Are you saying… You want to kiss me again?”
You thought that was obvious from when you kissed him earlier, but you’re happy to remind him. “Yes. I would like that very much.”
“Okay,” He says, bashfully, with a lick of his lips. “I can- I can arrange that.”
This time, when you turn back to your book, your head finds his shoulder and Spencer thinks his it has turned to gold, blessed by being touched by you. Would it be too much if, the second you get back to base, he writes about this moment in great detail to his mother?
All of that leads to now, where The Date is in three days.
He plans to take you to his favourite book café, a place you’ve always wanted to go but never had the chance to, and he was so, so excited. Any time he gets to spend with you is cherished and means more to him than it does to you, because to him it’s an excuse for you to give him more reasons to fall in love with you. And he does - fall in love - every single day.
Was is the important word here. He’s not excited anymore.
It’s terrifying how quick the tides can change.
Just this morning, he was glancing with child-like excitement at the outfit he’s already chosen for the date. You brought him some coffee, whispering an endearing, “Three days!” as you did, and, according to Derek, Spencer’s love eyes (what the hell does that mean) were so big even Derek fell in love with you for a second.
Now, Spencer’s not territorial, but that comment stuck with him. Maybe that’s why he’s here now.
He has to cancel the date.
It pains him – God, does it pain him – but he has to. He can’t go on that date with you. He can’t… put you through that. Make you spend time with him and have to let him down gently, slowly, like you’re talking down a temper tantrum. He can’t then pretend everything’s okay in front of the team. He won’t be able to pretend, because he’s liked you for months.
He won’t force you to go on that date with him. You deserve better than that, and better than him.
That’s what it comes down to: you deserve better than him.
It started that morning with Derek, as previously mentioned. Then the team was whisked away on a case, and the detectives were all over you. JJ, too, but they were too intimidated by Elle and Morgan, who just laughed at their attempts to impress you. It was borderline inappropriate, but you were too concerned with the victims and finding a serial killer to pay some officers and detectives you’ll never see again any attention.
Spencer noticed, though. And he couldn’t concentrate.
The detectives are dressed too well – by that, he means the suits and the Rolex watches are way above their paygrade – and they keep emphasising how good looking you and JJ are and how lucky the BAU is to have such dolls working on the team. What is this, the 40s? Who calls anyone doll anymore? And, yes, the team is very lucky to have you and JJ, but because you’re both great minds and wildly intelligent people that, yes, are also very gorgeous, but your looks aren’t all you have to offer, thank you very much.
There’s a detective approaching you, again, as you stand by the water cooler.
Spencer frantically looks around, trying to find a member of the team. “Morgan!” He weakly calls, because Spencer won’t scare him off. Maybe Morgan can chase them away like they’re stray cats, with his big muscles and scary eyebrows. Or Elle, who earlier merely lifted an eyebrow and the officers scattered like cockroaches.
All he catches of the conversation between you and the model/detective at the cooler is, “I appreciate it, but no thank you,” and that’s all he needs to hear.
He should’ve known someone would eventually make a move. You’ve said no, clearly, and Spencer doesn’t understand why. I mean, yes, he knows why – you have a prior engagement – but the detective… As much as he’s kind of a dick, he complements you better than Spencer does. Physically.
And there starts the spiral.
There must be something in the water, because every officer and detective and everyone in between is in peak physical condition with dashing looks to boot. They’re all straight out of a magazine, as if the popular kids from Spencer’s high school graduated and followed him here to remind him he is incredibly unworthy of you.
Spencer is lanky, unlike the broad men and curvaceous women here, and slicks his hair to the side rather than up like the others. He wears sweater vests, not blazers, and he’s so skinny that his trousers always look like hand-me-downs – nothing is fitted, like so many outfits are here.
They’re all everything Spencer is not. And Spencer is realising, quite quickly, that they’re the better ones – and that’s what you deserve. Better. The best.
It gets worse when they deliver the profile.
He finds his spot next to you, gives you a tight lipped smile, then looks at the outfits of his team compared to his own. Both Hotch and Morgan wear dark suits, well-proportioned and sophisticated in a way that Spencer is sure isn’t even in his calibre. Elle wears a deep green t-shirt, tucked into her tight black pants, and looks wonderfully intimidating with her double gun holster wrapped around her shoulders.
And you. You.
You wear a white shirt tucked into nicely tailored trousers, hair effortlessly styled with a pen tucked behind your ear. You all look like FBI agents. Intimidating. Prepared. Put-together.
Spencer… looks like he’s still in high school. He threatens no one, intimidates no one, and definitely does not make anyone feel inferior with his masculinity. He’s not an alpha male, is what he’s trying to say, and for each person he encounters in this wretched police department he feels himself shrinking.
So when they give the profile, he tries to say as little as possible. Tries to attract as little attention as possible, so when Hotch says his usual, “Thank you.” He can slip away unnoticed and hide from the superior beings.
It works, given everyone is too busy trying to save lives. Except you notice, and Spencer has to pretend he’s okay when you find him at the evidence board and tell him you’re excited for the date. He wants to believe you, truly does, but no matter how hard he digs into his brain to find a part of him that can fathom you see him as a better option than literally anyone else, it doesn’t exist.
You don’t seem to notice. He tells himself he’s glad, but there’s no denying the disappointment.
Hotch calls it a night when the clock nears midnight. He says the team should get as much rest as possible and come in with fresh eyes tomorrow – despite this, the team knows most if not all of them will get little to no sleep, given that they’ll all be going over everything they’ve got so far in their hotel rooms.
You slink up to Spencer, a pep in your step even though you’re running on pure caffeine and nothing else. It’s then Spencer realises he has to do it now, because if he does it in the police department then he’ll be called unprofessional, but if he waits any longer than that he’ll be cutting too close and that’s a bad look.
“Y/N,” He says, coming to a stop before the elevators, allowing the rest of the team to head up. “I need to say something.”
You nod with a smile, covering a cute yawn when he takes a couple seconds to gather his thoughts.
You’re not sure what he’s gonna say, but you assume it’ll be to do with the date. Maybe a change of time, or a change of venue – he did mention the library café can get super busy on weekends – or, worst case scenario, the date will have to be postponed for whatever reason. And none are particularly bad, because you’re excited and just want to be with Spencer – it doesn’t matter if it’s not when he originally planned or where he originally planned.
But Spencer has always unwittingly been full of surprises.
“We can’t go on that date.”
Instantly you ask, “Why not?”
“Well-“ He seems caught off guard, like he wasn’t expecting you to question the sudden change of heart, “It’s complicated-“
“I’ve got time.”
“We should go to sleep-“
“Is it your mother?”
“No. No, it’s not.” Of course you look empathetic when you consider his mother might need him – a stab to the start. Add in the flicker of concern in your eyes – two stabs to the heart. “It’s not her. It’s- it’s nothing. Just, can we cancel?”
The disappointment is clear on your face and makes Spencer feel so guilty, but not guilty enough to take it back. You’re not disappointed that you’re missing out on dating him, you’re frustrated that you’ve been building up to having plans on the weekend and they’ve suddenly been cancelled without reason. By Spencer, of all people. In a couple months’ time you’ll thank him, when you’re dating some bodybuilder who can grow a mean beard. You’ll thank him for not making you go on that date with him and forcing you to tell him you’re just not my type, Spence, and making everything awkward.
He can’t look at you. Maybe that’s why he misses the genuine sadness, the sudden glassiness of your eyes that humiliates you enough to make you angry. His words have ignited a fire in your chest that burns through your body like you’re made of gasoline, and you wish you could turn your thoughts off so you don’t start questioning how long he’s been wanting to reject you, if he even wanted to date you in the first place, how embarrassing it is to have been so openly eager when, apparently, he was very much not.
“I’m sorry.” He says, like it’ll do anything. He still can’t look at you and he feels like a coward.
“Yeah.” You sniffle.
He decides to take the stairs. You head for the bar, just for one drink.
The following day, when an officer tries to talk to you, you blatantly ignore him. You tell him that unless it’s work-related, you’re really not interested, and word spreads quick that your pleasantries have died out and you’re not in the mood to tolerate creepy compliments.
There’s a permanent frown on your face that haunts Spencer the entire day. He knows exactly what’s going on – it’s his fault, after all – and he finds himself simultaneously avoiding you whilst witnessing your downcast mood.
Morgan starts investigating not long after you barely react to his terrible joke. He makes them for you, because you either choke on laughter or throw your pen at him, but this time it was like you weren’t even in the room. When Morgan poked you and asked if you heard him, your lacklustre reply was, “Hm? Yeah, good one.”
Morgan perches on the desk Spencer’s using. “You got any idea what’s going on with Y/N?”
“They’re mad at me.”
“You’re the reason they’re like this?”
Spencer doesn’t physically react, just says, as casually as possible, “Unless another person asked them on a date then cancelled without reason, then yes. It’s my fault.”
There’s no point in lying. Especially to Derek. Spencer doesn’t know how you’ll go about explaining your sudden poor mood, if you’ll curse his very existence or lie about it, but Spencer’s never been a good liar and the sooner everyone knows it’s his fault and he sucks, the better.
Morgan leans forward, attempting to make eye contact with the doctor who very much does not want to. “There’s a story there.”
“…You wanna go ahead and explain it?”
“Alright,” Derek shrugs, “You stir in your sadness and continue being a sourpuss, I’ll go check up on Y/N and find out what really happened.”
Derek’s barely moved off the table when Spencer stops him, voice small like a child, “Wait, Morgan, I-“
You walk past then, too focused on a suspect list faxed in by Garcia to pay attention to anyone else. Spencer’s eyes follow you the whole time, and the look in Spencer’s twinkling eyes make Morgan slump back onto the table in realisation.
“Why’d you cancel, Reid?”
“I had to.”
“You had other plans?”
Spencer chews his bottom lip. “No. But I… I couldn’t take them on a date.”
Derek waits for him to elaborate.
“Have you seen the kind of guys hitting on them?” Spencer asks, scooting his chair closer so no one can eavesdrop. “They’re all… They’re- they’re like you, Morgan. All cool and put-together and actually look their age, for one, and I’m not that. I could never be that – and that’s what Y/N wants-“
“Have you asked them that?”
“No. But I’m a profiler, in case you forgot, and I think it makes sense that these big-shouldered, super muscly guys are all over-“
“But you haven’t actually asked them what they want.”
“No.” Spencer sighs, leaning back in his chair.
“That’s your first, and most vital, mistake, my man.”
Spencer purses his lips, catching you watching him over Derek’s shoulder. You immediately look away, shooting off to the evidence room as an escape, and Spencer’s cheeks burn with guilt and embarrassment.
He can’t believe he thought he had a chance with you.
“I feel like this should be obvious, Genius, but Y/N said yes to a date with you, then turned down every offer that came from someone that wasn’t you-“
“That’s because they already made plans with me and they’d feel terrible if they had to cancel for another, better offer. I made it easier for them.”
Derek gives him such an incredulous look Spencer wonders if he should burn his PhDs. “Are you serious?”
The crestfallen expression on Spencer’s face is enough of an answer.
“Come with me.”
“C’mon,” Derek tugs Spencer up from his chair. “I need to show your dumb ass something.”
All that’s missing is classic spy music when Derek and Spencer sneak into the conference room the BAU is using. Only Hotch is in there, scribbling something down, barely glancing up when the two agents creep in like they’re on a mission.
Spencer doesn’t say anything until Derek reaches for your bag. “Whoa- Morgan-“
Spencer just stares, brows halfway down his face, and watches silently.
“That’s they’re journal, Morgan, you can’t just read it-“
“It’s not, pretty boy.”
Hotch watches the interaction, mildly confused, then nods to himself when he realises what Morgan’s holding.
Morgan splays the journal on the table in front of them, flipping through pages with precision like it’s his notebook and not yours. When he lands on his desired page, it’s slid towards Spencer.
He reads it.
The Doctor Spencer Reid cheat sheet. (Because I do not have an eidetic memory and feel bad whenever I forget something he tells me)
He’s too stumped by the words cheat sheet to look further, so Derek does it for him, flipping to the next page where very basic information about Spencer sits – full name, date of birth, hometown. As he looks to the page next to it, he realises it’s full of his favourite things – favourite coffee, favourite candy (which has multiple answers, by the way), even favourite pair of socks. Like a switch has been flipped, Spencer comes to life, frantically switching between pages that are overflowing with facts and tidbits about him, from his favourite monologue from his favourite film to his favourite shelf in his apartment. All things he’s told you either in passing or when he’s confided in you at random times, you’ve taken note. You’ve listened, and for some reason you’ve written it all down so you’d never forget.
“What…What is this?”
“It’s everything there is to know about you, Reid.” Derek watches as Spencer slips through the rest of the book, filled with random to-do lists and phone numbers of various people, looking for the same information about the rest of the team. “There’s only one for you, you know. And if you ask me it’s a little creepy, but it’s saved our asses when it’s come to buying gifts for you a good few times.” He slaps a hand on his friend’s shoulder, smirking at how Spencer’s awe-filled eyes never leave the pages before him. “They care about you a lot, Reid. More than you think. So…”
“I need to talk to them.”
“Yes, idiot, you do.”
That night, Elle and Derek invite you to join them for some drinks at the bar, promising they won’t let it escalate to arm wrestling and childish bets like they always do. Even though they make a compelling argument, add on that you’re stressed and upset and really, really want to forget emotions exist more than anything else, you’re half tempted to accept and lose yourself in some cocktails.
Then you spot Spencer talking in hushed tones with Gideon and everything comes flooding back. So you tell Elle to have a drink for you, please don’t make a ruckus when she gets back to your shared room, and bid them adieu.
In your room, you distract yourself by renting one of your favourite movies. It’s overpriced, and a part of you wants to look over the case files again, but being sad and burnt out won’t lead to any good outcomes.
It’s a futile attempt at switching your brain off so you don’t have to think about how excited you were for the date. You’ve had twenty-four hours to get over it, but every time you see him you’re thrown back into the bitterness you feel – bitter that you fooled yourself into thinking it’d work out, bitter that your hopes were so high, bitter that you let your feelings for Spencer become such a big part of your life.
You’re lying on your scratchy hotel bed, thinking about Spencer and how he’s going to be complaining to Morgan about said scratchy beds, when there’s a knock at your door.
Naturally, you assume its Elle. She reminds you so much of your older sister who used to slide you some money so you’d stay up late into the night and quietly let her back into the house after she’s sneaked off to go to a party – except Elle is probably swaying outside your hotel room after losing her keycard rather than swaying on your doorstep.
So when you open the door, teasing quip ready, you legitimately choke when you’re faced with a fidgety Spencer Reid.
He tries to ignore how the way your face drops when you realise it’s him feels like a punch to the gut.
“You-what-“ He’s never seen you so flustered. “Are you lost?”
Just in case, Spencer leans back to check the number beside your door is in fact 208. It is, and he turns back to you, “Please don’t slam the door in my face.”
It slips out. “I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise your pretty face.”
You’re humiliated that he has this effect on you, the ability to obliterate all your filters and common sense just by existing. But the look on his face alleviates the want to jump out of the window – his mouth opens, twitching into the smallest, most bashful smile before it falls and morphs back into disbelief. You just… You just called his face pretty, a word that makes some feel emasculated but no, never with you. You compliment people and mean it, which makes Spencer’s guilt worsen and the urge to tell you he loves you with his entire heart more intense.
You speak at the same time.
“Why are you-“
“I wanted to-“
You roll your lips together, holding back a smile, and nod for him to go on. He does the same, so you shake your head with a, “I was just asking why you’re here.”
He holds up a finger, signalling one moment, and opens his satchel to start rummaging in it. “I know this is a complete invasion of privacy, and theft, really, but Morgan showed me it and I just- Why do you have this?”
In his hand is the journal you’ve been working on since a month into your employment at the BAU. The gifted notebook was initially used to jot down any bits of advice your superiors gave you (on your first day, Elle gave you a list she lovingly titled “If I wasn’t an FBI agent I’d sock these people in the mouths”) but, before you knew it, it had an entirely different purpose.
It started when you witnessed Derek stumble when asked Spencer’s favourite colour, to which he said no one remembers stuff like that! Aptly followed by Spencer reeling off everyone’s preferred colours (even delving into second favourites and favoured colour schemes) and you realised then that… Spencer’s whole life, he’s remembered so much about the people around him and very rarely have they returned the favour. So, in an attempt to build friendship and because you had the fattest crush on him already, you started the Spencer Reid cheat sheet.
You didn’t think he’d ever see it, even if it’s always used by the team on various occasions. It was the team’s little secret, bar Spencer, that assisted in nearly every decision made on Spencer’s behalf – what to order from restaurants, drinks, birthday and holiday gifts, how to comfort him when he’s stressed or upset.
The responses vary. Derek thinks it’s weird, as did Elle at first, but JJ and Garcia insist its sweet and, really, no matter what they think they’ve all come running to you when time has called for it.
“How… Did you steal it?”
“Yes,” He tells you, guiltily, “I had to read it – it’s incredibly accurate, by the way.”
You don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.
“I don’t know,” You say, a bold-faced lie and Spencer can tell, but he lets you continue, “You remember everything about everyone else, so I wanted to… do the same for you, I guess.”
“I have an eidetic memory.”
You airily laugh – does he think you forgot that? “I know that. Doesn’t it get tiring recalling all this information about your friends and not having it reciprocated?”
He clicks his tongue at that, eyes falling back to the notebook in his hands that he fiddles with while he thinks. It is tiring, he supposes, but that’s how it’s always been. He remembers everything, the people around him just… don’t. He realised at a young age that he’ll often have to remind himself that friendship isn’t measured by what they remember, but by other ways – like this. You, with your unassuming journal that is full of things Spencer assumed no one would ever care to remember.
You, with your tensed jaw and fluttering eyes because you’re embarrassed.
You, who’s done quite possibly the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for him, and it’s been happening for years right under his nose.
You, who he cancelled a date with because he was so sure you were dating him out of pity, out of obligation after he asked and you felt forced to say yes, but now he realises you care about him just as much as he cares for you.
Touched feels like an understatement.
“If you find it weird, I’ll burn it the second we get home. Pretend it never happened, we can… discuss a restraining order if we must-“
He smiles at you, hands tight on the book in his hands, smiles so big that his eyes crinkle and his teeth show and he looks gorgeous. It tugs directly on your heart strings and just for a second you forget that he cancelled your date, forget that you’ve been pining for years, and bask in the warmth that radiates from him.
“This is… Insane, really.” He laughs, “But also so… so cool. I don’t deserve this, at all, and to think we could’ve gone on a date but I chickened out-“
He shrugs with faux-nonchalance. “The-um- the reason I took back the date was because I think you deserve so much better than me. In a, you deserve someone like all the police officers down at the PD, kind of way. I don’t want a pity date-“
You scoff, then with an indignant, “Come in here,” You grab Spencer’s satchel and tug him into your hotel room, closing the door with a forceful push as he turns to face you.
With your hands on your hips, you stare him down with furrowed brows and a look that screams really? “Is that really what you think, Spence? It was a pity date?”
“Well, yeah,” He tells you. The conviction in his voice is so strong that, if you weren’t this riled up, you’d probably tear up at how sure he sounds.
You give another scoff. “Not only am I offended you think I’d do that to anyone, but I’m also mad that you don’t see how I look at you! Spencer, I’ve been into you since I started working here-“ His mouth falls open. You’re exasperated. “-and the notes were a way to get to know you, yes, but they were also because I couldn’t stop watching you and had to play it off like I was doing it for a reason. You’re my favourite, Spencer.”
His heart aches a little, full of such a tenderness he’s never quite felt before. He feels loved, and so, so touched that someone would put so much effort into getting to know him and… years. Literal years you’ve liked him, and he’s been blind to it.
“I like you a lot.” You’re breathless after your little speech, “And if you still don’t want that date, that’s okay. But I like you, Spence, I really like you.”
Your gaze never wavers. Spencer wants to scoop you up and place kisses all over. For the first time in a while, he feels worthy. Like what you’re saying isn’t being said for the sake of it, because you’re his friend and you have to support him, but because it’s what you genuinely think and feel and Spencer might be in love.
He swallows deeply before speaking.
“I really like you, too, Y/N. And I’m-I’m sorry that I cancelled the date and- I should’ve talked to you, maybe, before doing it, but… We’re here now, right?”
“You want to have a date right now?”
Thumbing through the book, he says, “Actually, there’s some blanks in here I’d like to fill, if you’re not busy…”
You’re very clearly on board with the suggestion, basically skipping to your bed, plopping down and patting the space beside you with a grin. “I’m not busy at all, Doctor Reid. Tell me everything I don’t already know.”
So he does, thigh pressed against yours and blush on his cheeks when you let your head fall onto his shoulder.
The night is spent giggling over the most random information you’ve gathered, correcting only one mistake (his favourite socks change every week, not your fault), and adding onto the already plentiful fact file.
And the date that weekend happens, ending in a sweet kiss on your doorstep that leaves you both with shy smiles and thundering hearts.
It’s the first date of many, followed by the creation of a new journal full of all there is to know about your and Spencer’s relationship.
tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @bitchyreids @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @chiffonchronicles @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @jasongideonapologist @gublertoon @averyhotchner
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Another Second Chance 9- Every Little Thing
Another Second Chance Masterlist, Happily Ever Eventually Masterlist
Author’s Note: The final (hopefully) installment of the Happily Ever Eventually RPF series.
Summary: Y/n and Nova settle into life, and get okay with the fact that Jensen is going to be a part of that.
Pairing: past Jensen x Reader
Word count: 3689
Story Warnings: past cheating, little bit of angst, little bit of pining, teen sass, mentions of porn
"Look what I found!" Nova says, walking into the kitchen as I make scrambled eggs for breakfast. I look over to see a dusty old acoustic guitar.
"Why were you in the attic?" I ask.
"I was exploring," she says, nonchalantly. "The strings are still good. Out of tune, of course, but I've got a tuning app so I fixed that. Listen!" She plops down in the closest chair and starts strumming. I smile at the Eagles song that flows across the room. She stumbles on the second bar. "Oh, shoot."
"You know you've got the music tastes of an old lady, right?" I tease as I flick the flame off and scoop eggs onto a plate with half a bagel and a strawberry Yoplait.
"Well, you can't blast Lizzo on an acoustic, Mum." She rolls her eyes and tries again. "Every night, I'm lyin' in bed, Holding you close in my dreams, Thinkin' about all the things that we said, And comin' apart at the seams. We tried to talk it over, But the words come out too rough. I know you were tryin' to give me the best of your love." She stops playing and sets the guitar aside as I bring the plate to the table. "You know, if the jerk were gonna sing a song to you, that might be a good one."
"Jensen wrote a song to apologize...way back when we broke up. And he wrote another two about losing the best thing he ever had that I’m pretty sure were about me." I sigh as No picks up her fork and I turn back to make my own plate. "And he did a cover of Parker McCollum's 'Pretty Heart' for Jason's 'Three-covering With Friends' album. He's sung his feelings a number of times, Nova. Hitting me with one of my favorite bands isn't going to change anything. The grand, sweet gestures, Jay was always great at those, but-"
"He was also really good at the grand, public mess-ups," she interrupts and she's so freaking right.
"Yeah, exactly." I sit beside her and pick up my own fork. "It was never the big things that made the big impact with me, though. It was...it was him remembering how I take my coffee and bringing me one from Craft at 2 when I started to drift. It was him finding the second book in a series and leaving it on the nightstand for me because he noticed the bookmark was near the back of the first book in the series. It was him texting me every morning when he woke up and we were apart so that I knew he was thinking of me. All these two-second things that weren't meant to fix anything or get him any praise or big reaction. Just things because he cared...those were the ones that hit me hardest."
"Well, don't tell him that. You might end up with a bunch of new books," she says and I chuckle. "Actually, I need some new reading material. I left all my books at Dad's. You think I could con Jerksen into buying me some books?"
"We'll get you a library card," I respond with a laugh. She just smiles as we dig into our breakfasts.
"I'm really happy to be here," she says suddenly, as I dip my spoon into my yogurt. She avoids looking at me as I set my spoon to the side of my plate and focus on her. She scratches at her hairline and bites her bottom lip for a minute. "I love Dad but he’s a bigger jerk than Jensen and he's...he made me miss you. He didn't even like having me around, he just didn't want you to be able to have me around."
"Baby, of course your dad liked having-" I start to defend him...for her, not him. No kid wants to feel like that.
Her eyes snap up and she sighs heavily. "He used me, Mum. He used me to hurt you...because it was fun for him. If he would go see a psychologist like you do, maybe he'd be able to work on that but he doesn't want to fix his antisocial tendencies. He likes being a sociopath."
"Most sociopaths do," I mutter, getting a flash of Tom in my head. "But your dad isn't a sociopath, Nova, he's just-"
"I've looked this up, Mum. He has a lot of the markers of-"
"Okay, but just because the damn internet says something doesn't mean it's true!" I exclaim. "Look at all the crap the internet says about me, about the world and politics, look at the anti-vaxxers spouting whatever they want. Your father is an asshole, but he's not a sociopath. He's just a guy."
"You know that most sociopaths aren't serial killers, right? It's about how he acts. It's why he can't stop cheating and why he lies all the time about nothing. It's why he brags about helping send you into a breakdown after Tom raped you! He's a-"
"He brags about that?" I ask, quietly. Nate's a prick, but I didn't expect that.
Her eyes soften and she looks away. "Yeah. I heard him a few years ago, talking with Jeremy and Will. He thought it was funny."
I have to push down my rage. Of course he thought that was funny. "Yeah, well...only a doctor can diagnose him with that. Until you go get your PhD in Psychology, you can't say he's a sociopath...but you can say he's an asshole."
"I can? I can say that?" Her eyes light up and I sigh. "No, no, you said I could call him an A-hole! Can't take it back now!"
"Fine, Nova. One time, one single time, you can call your dad an asshole, so use it wisely," I concede with a smile.
"Awesome!" she says, smiling as she starts eating her yogurt. "Oh, when do I start school?"
"Tomorrow. They emailed me a copy of your schedule. I'll send it to your phone."
"And do you work today?"
"Yeah. Costuming approval and set dressing for the Avalon scenes." I chuckle. "Never knew how much effort actually goes into the producer side of stuff. All this paperwork and stuff. It’s a lot easier to just show up, look pretty, and cry on cue."
"Oh, come on! There's more to acting than-"
"Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I just make it look difficult," I joke.
"So...am I hanging out here or-"
"You're coming! You haven't met my people! Matt is gonna be there!"
She shakes her head. "Which one's that?"
"Uh, the one in the Halloween pic with me and Rob and Rich and we're all dressed like genderbent Charlie's Angels? He was the blond."
"The one that was on General hospital?" she asks.
"I mean, I think he'll always be John Winchester over Dr. Munro, but he-"
"Sorry, but Negan is John Winchester," she disagrees.
"Jeff has been in so many other things! Don't typecast him down to two frickin' characters, No! Also, why do you know about Negan? Was your dad letting you watch The Walking Dead?"
"I'm a teenager with Netflix, Mum." She says it like I'm stupid to be surprised that she sought out the gory, violent show and...damn, she's right. I'm stupid. I was watching all the porn when I was her age so I guess it’s not a big surprise she'd go for more mature programming.
I sigh. "Just...stay away from Game of Thrones, please. They butchered the characters in the final season, anyway, and you don't need that disappointment just to see some sex."
"There’s other sites than Netflix for that. Besides...I already watched Sense8, can't get better sex scenes than that."
"Mommy doesn't need to hear that," I say, standing. I do like that she can talk to me about this stuff, though. "That mind orgy was pretty hot."
"I thought it was cool, yeah."
"Anyway. Matt is gonna be there to get his Puck costume approved. He's an awesome guy."
"How often do you see Misha? Like, I know he doesn't live here, but…" She stands and walks over to the dishwasher, taking my plate from my hands as she goes. "I talk to West and Maison on Twitter sometimes. They seem like good people. I feel like we'd vibe."
"You would vibe. Misha and Vicki raised those kids up to be science-minded, philosophical, genuine people." I smile and press my lips to her temple as she rinses off the plates. "You'd definitely vibe. I'll see what I can do about getting y'all in one place."
"Good," she says, smiling. "Now go get ready for work. I'll start the dishes."
Introducing Nova to the crew, my crew, was something beautiful. She was so interested in how everything worked and asked a million questions and she called Matt "a goof" but as we're heading home, she's quiet.
"There’s a million things happening at once on a set. How do you keep it straight?"
"Well, that's why we have directors." I look over at her for a moment before turning back to the road. "I couldn't do that job. That's why I brought Richard in."
"Doesn't Jerksen do that stuff, too?"
I nod. "Yep. He's really good at it, too. Some of my favorite episodes of Supernatural were directed by Jensen. Episode 3 in season 10 was a masterpiece."
"Well, is he gonna be a director on Midsummer?"
"No, no. I mean, we're just starting to be friends again. I can’t let him into something so very, very important to me. I wouldn't...like, if our friendship thing doesn’t last, I can't let him leave his imprint on my...my production, ya know?"
"So, how do you expect to be friends with him? Like, when you're obviously in love with him?"
"Thank you for your support, Supernova." I roll my eyes. "I had a huge crush on him before I even met him. I managed to survive being friends with him for months before I became anything more for him." Oh, fuck. Shoulda said 'years'. Dammit. Don’t catch that, Nova. "I can handle it."
"Okay, I guess. But if you start making googoo eyes at each other, I'm gonna poke you."
"Oh! Speaking of...well, of Jensen, um, Jared invited us over to his house this weekend. He's having a barbecue, a Pad-Ackles event. Jay's bringing all of the kids to hang with all of Jared's kids and we're gonna have some sweet tea and ribs and stuff. You don’t have to swim or any of that, you can hang out and read or something, but...we're gonna go."
"I don't know them," she grumbles a little.
"You know the Ackles' kids."
"Not in years, Mum. I haven't talked to them like I've talked to West and Maison. They're not-"
"You were excited about news friends at a new school. You can't get happy about new friends from my friends?"
She glowers a little, then sighs. "Okay. Fine. I'll go but I don’t have a bathing suit."
"We'll go to The Domain. It's the big outdoor mall. I'm sure somewhere there's a shop still carrying summer stuff."
She just rolls her eyes at me. Ah, teenagers.
Nova loves her new school. She won’t shut up about how big it is compared to the high school back home, how there’s so many kids in the Gay-Straight Alliance, and they’re all so nice to her and the teachers are really great and they haven’t drowned her in homework and the band directors really know what they’re doing...on and on. I’m glad she’s happy.
“My Algebra teacher figured out who you are. He very subtly requested an autograph,” she says on the way to Jared’s.
“I’ll get him a glossy. He say what he knows me from?”
“Supernatural. He’d probably flip his lid if you got Jared and Jerksen to sign, too.”
I laugh. “You’re gonna have to stop calling him that.”
“Do I have to? I betcha he won’t get mad about it. He’s trying to be understanding and calm and junk.”
“Please. Be nice, Nova.”
I pull into the Padaleckis’ driveway and park behind Jensen’s truck. “Okay, so they’re already here. Probably around back in the pool. Let’s go.” I say, turning off the car and getting out. I adjust my flannel overshirt that I totally didn’t steal from the wardrobe trailer of Supernatural and then I walk up to the door. Nova runs up behind me as I press the doorbell and we both smile as the door opens to reveal Genevieve in a bright blue bikini with a white tie around her waist. “Hey, Gen!”
“She shows her face!” she exclaims as she wraps me in a hug. “I missed you, woman!”
“I missed you too! This is my oldest, Nova. Nova, this is Gen.”
“Hey. Nice to meet you, honey. Most everyone is in the back. Through this way,” she says, closing the door behind us and leading us out to the backyard. “I recognize that cover-up. Did you steal that from the show?”
I gasp dramatically. “I most certainly did not! I would never have stolen the purple flannel from The Thing!” We both start laughing as we step out onto the back porch. “No, it was just so cozy, and my color, and it didn’t actually fit either of the guys because their arms are too big, so...it was just gonna hang in the wardrobe until they sold it off when the show ended. I...liberated it.”
“Jared stole the whiskey glasses and the decanter from the bunker library. We use them all the time,” she responds.
“But not when Jay’s around?” I ask quietly.
Gen nods. “That’s been a journey. But not one we need to talk about today. Today is about burgers and ribs and family and friends.”
“Y/n! You made it!” Jared shouts from the other side of the grill. “And Nova came! Yes!” He shuts the top of the grill and sets the tongs he’s using to the side before coming over to wrap his arms around me. Nova nods at a lounge chair in the grass and pulls a book out of her back pocket as she walks over to it. “I’m so happy you’re here. I barely got to talk to you at the reunion!”
“I should have stayed around but-”
“I heard,” Jared says, pulling away with a smirk. “No one expected you to be the one to-”
“Shut up. It was...I was…Shut up,” I conclude. Jared laughs and I bite my bottom lip as I watch Nova settle with her book. I look over at the pool. JJ and the twins are playing a diving game with Tom, Shep, and Odette. Mav is nowhere to be seen and neither is Jensen. “I’m happy to be here, though. Hopefully, it won’t get too, ya know, awkward.”
“Well, there’s no alcohol out here so you don’t run the risk of making things awkward like-”
“I swear to God, Padalecki, if you keep bringing that up, I’m gonna leave,” I say firmly, but I can’t help but smile as he laughs.
“Okay, okay. I’ll put a pin in it, but still…we know what you did.”
“You ready, buddy?” Jay’s voice comes from the house, followed by Maverick’s.
Jay walks out the back door with Mav in his arms. He’s wearing baggy swim trunks and nothing else. I avoid looking at his muscles or those perfect, perky nipples by turning away to look at the offering of sodas and waters and the big pitcher of tea.
“Hey, Mommy made it, Mad Max!”
“Hi, Mommy! We’re going swimming!” Mav shouts and I turn back with a smile and wave at him as Jensen steps off the side of the pool into the water with Maverick in his arms.
I get distracted watching them. He’s holding Mav up and he’s treading water and his hair is in his eyes but he's laughing with our boy and man, he's pretty.
"You gonna swim?" Gen asks, gesturing at my flannel. "Assume there's a bikini under there."
"Oh, no, I don't do bikinis." I unbutton the flannel to show my red one-piece bathing suit with the sweetheart bust and the cute peekaboo hips with the black fringe. "I’ve got ugly c-section scars right where a sexy bikini would rest. No one wants to see that."
"A, if your scar is showing, you're wearing them too small, and B, I can think of someone who would want to see that," Gen says and my cheeks heat up.
"Shush!" I shake my head. "Seriously. I will leave."
"Hey, Y/n!" Jay calls out and I turn to look at him again. He wipes hair and water out of his eyes as he leans against the side of the pool. Mav is on his back, clinging to him. "There’s an alligator floaty in the deck box over there. Will you grab that for the monkey on my back?"
"Yeah." I smile as I walk over to the big plastic deck box and open it to find a lot of pool toys and the alligator. I grab it by its black handle and carry it over to Jay and Mav. He smiles at me as I bend down and set the floaty in the water next to him.
“Hey,” he says, licking his lips.
“Hey,” I respond as he smirks and I have to fight down a chill.
“You gonna get in?” he asks as Mav climbs off of his back onto the alligator.
“Maybe. I mean, I’m here. I’ve got the proper attire.” I shrug and my eyes flick to his crown tattoo on his wrist. His tattoos are sweet reminders of important times and people. “I might.” I look at his bicep, the jaybird and the arrow and the rope with the zeppelin knot. I remember holding onto that tattoo to ground myself…
My cheeks heat up and I look away. Don’t do that, silly woman.
“Well, I’ll tell you what I told the kids, if you’re not a strong swimmer, stay out of the deep end. Shorties like you need to-”
I scoff indignantly and push his shoulder. “I can freaking swim just fine and height has nothing to do with that!”
He smirks and laughs as he pushes off from the side of the pool and treads water in the middle. “Well, if you wanna swim, the kids were talkin’ about Marco Polo after they get done diving for treasure.”
I smile and stand. “I’ll think about it, Marco.” He nods and dives for the bottom of the pool. He’s got a tattoo on his back? I walk over to Jared at the grill. “When’d he get the thing on his back?”
“Mav’s second birthday,” Gen answers, handing me a bottle of water. “It’s a pack of Maverick playing cards.”
“Oh, that’s sweet. I didn’t know he got a tat for Mav, too.”
“Well, he’s got tattoos for the other kids. You really thought he wouldn’t get one for Maverick?” Jared asks and he’s right, but...I guess I just never really thought about it.
“I wasn’t thinking about his tattoos. I’m only thinking about them now because I can see them.”
“It’s more of his skin than you’ve seen in years, huh?” Jared teases.
“Shut your face, Jare. Jesus.”
I drink the water and pull the flannel off, setting it off to the side. I look over at Nova to see that JJ is out of the pool and sitting next to the lounge chair in the grass. She’s looking up at Nova and talking happily. I hope they’re gonna be friends again. I look over at the pool and Jensen is staring at me from the other side of Mav’s alligator. My cheeks heat up as he looks away, knowing he’s been caught. Why is he so fuckin’ cute sometimes?
I sigh and set the bottle of water down before I walk away. “Not a word, Padaleckis. Not a word,” I say before I jump into the pool.
I play with the kids, diving down for rings at the bottom of the pool and splashing the older kids. They start up a game of Marco Polo and it doesn’t take long for Jensen to be the tagger...and he comes for me immediately, like he knows where I am without his eyes. Doesn’t even call out ‘Marco’. Dick.
I pull myself gently down the wall but he still keeps coming for me, so I...cheat. I climb out of the pool and tiptoe around to the other side and slip into the shallow end. He keeps trying to find me over there until he gives up and shouts ‘Marco!’. The kids and I all shout ‘Polo!’ back...even Nova and JJ.
“Chevy, you aren’t even in the pool!” he complains with a smile.
“And you aren’t a 13th century Venetian explorer,” she shoots back.
I giggle at her response and it’s a beacon for him because he comes straight for me. I shriek and try to get away, but he grabs me and wraps me in his arms. His feet are on the bottom of the pool and I wish I was taller because I’m still fucking floating, trying to tread water while he holds me.
He smiles bright and opens his eyes. “Caught ya!”
“You cheated! Your eyes were totally open!” I laugh as I kick my legs.
“Prove it,” he teases. “Besides, I didn’t call you out for that Fish Outta Water you pulled a few minutes ago.”
“See?! You were looking! I knew it!”
“Yeah, well…you’re It now,” he says, releasing his hold on me.
He goes around me and starts paddling toward the deep end and I can see his tattoo on his left shoulder blade. A box of cards, MAVERICK brand in big letters across the top, ‘PLAYING CARDS’ and ‘CARTES A JOUER’ across the bottom, and smack in the middle of the ornate red spade…‘Y/N’.
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Pairing: Akaashi x Reader
Word Count: 1370
Synopsis: You can’t help but feel drawn to the cute customer who keeps coming in during your shifts.
It was a quiet day at the shop when he came in. Soft hair dripping from the rain, glasses fogged up. But you didn’t notice that at first, not until he approached the front desk where you were stationed.
“The Phantom Tollbooth?” he asked, eyeing the blue book whose pages you were tumbling through.
“It’s a childhood favorite of mind,” you said, still not looking up. Setting the book down, you typed a few things into the front desk’s computer. “Can I help you find something today?”
“Yes, I ordered a few books and I received an email saying they were in. They should be under the name Akaashi Keiji.”
You typed the name into the computer’s system and waited for it to load. “Sorry it’s taking so long. This thing’s really old.” You rubbed the side of the chunky computer.
The man nodded and made a noise out of understanding.
You hated interactions like this, when the computer was taking a very long time and there was just a moment of awkward silence between you and the customer in front of you. And all you want to do is pick your book up and continue reading but you can’t because that would be rude to the customer. So instead you pretended to scroll along the web page as if you were looking for something in particular.
The customer fiddled with the cap on a stray pen left on the front desk. He grabbed one of the free bookmarks you keep next to the computer and stuck it in his bag.
“All right,” you said when the computer had finally loaded. “Let’s see. It looks like your books came in this morning. I’ll grab them from the back.” You left your spot and the front desk and went to the back room where book orders and other supplies sat on shelves wrapped in brown paper and twine. You grabbed the one labeled “Akaashi K.” and ran back to your waiting customer. “Here you go.”
As you sat them on the counter, he thumbed around the package, feeling to make sure all three books were snug inside.
“That’ll be 4200 yen,” you said, finally looking up at your customer for the first time. And at that moment, you couldn’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter.
“I’m sorry, did I say something funny?” He looked puzzled and quite frankly annoyed.
“No,” you giggled. “I’m sorry I know I’m being mean. It’s just, you’re soaking wet and you’re getting water everywhere.”
Puzzled, he turned around and saw the trail of rain drops he had led into the store. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize–”
“No no it’s fine,” you cut him off. “As long as the books stay dry you’re all right.”
He nodded and looked down at his soaked through sneakers. “Thank you. Um, here’s my card.”
You took his debit card and swiped it through the machine. “You’re all set.” You handed him back his card and his receipt which he gladly folded and stuck in his wallet. “Have a good day and, um, stay dry.” You couldn’t help but let out a fleeting giggle as you watched him walk out the door and back into the pouring rain.
It was dry out, and even sunny, at the start of your shift the next day. Although cool wind blew past you and the only thing you had to keep your hands from falling off was the latte you had just ordered from the coffee house next door.
“I’m here,” you called to your fellow coworkers as you made your grand entrance through the front door.
“Thank god.” Hanamaki, one of the coworkers you favor least, took off his uniform apron and balled it up. “Enjoy your hell duty.”
You would not consider this job to be hellish in the slightest. You loved the smell of the decaying glue holding the books, old and new, together. It was such a peaceful environment which you were happy spending hours upon hours in.
The door of the shop opened, and the twinkling of the jingle bells tied to the handle pulled your attention to the front door.
Kicking the soles of his shoes against the store’s welcome mat was the customer you had met yesterday, the one who had left his trail of rain water leading right to the front desk.
“Don’t tell me you finished all three books already,” you said, astonished by his presence so soon after your first encounter.
“No,” he said, running a hand through his fluffy hair. “Just the first one. The other two are gifts for friends.”
You nodded in response. “Well what can I help you find?”
“Just browsing,” he dismissed. And with that, he disappeared into the isles stacked floor to ceiling with non-fiction, gothic literature, YA novellas and so much more. He emerged twenty minutes later with a small stack of books.
“Find what you were looking for?” You set down your half drunk latte and began scanning each book, smiling at some of the titles you recognized.
“It’s a dangerous place in there,” he admitted. “Never thought I’d come out with this many books.”
“Yeah,” you laughed. “I’ve spent way too much money here, even with my discount.” You finished ringing him up. “Anything else I can do for you?”
He shook his head and handed you his card. “Actually, there is something you can do for me,” he said as you handed him the small paper bag with the store’s logo printed on the side. “Could I by chance get your number?”
You froze and eyed the man in front of you. He wore a black and white flannel shirt and tight dark jeans that seemed to outline his figure in indescribable ways. He looked at you patiently with a nonchalant expression that told you he would be fine with either a yes or no answer. “Why?”
“Well, you seem to have good tastes in books,” he started. There was a brief pause before he met your gaze and continued speaking. “Also, I think you are very pretty and my stubborn roommate thinks that I should be dating more.”
You felt a bit light headed. This seemingly perfect stranger, someone you have barely had a full conversation with, was being so bold with his words. You wanted to speak but you couldn’t find the words. The seconds hand on the clock behind you ticked at an abnormally slow pace. The bell jingled but you didn’t look away from the man and the way he rubbed the pad of his thumb back and forth between his fingers.
“I’m sorry,” he broke the silence. “That was incredibly rude of me. I don’t even know your name.” He bowed his head down and turned around, ready to leave and possibly never come back.
“It’s (Y/n),” you sputtered. You finally took a big long breath as he turned around again. “And I’m assuming you’re Akaashi?” you asked, remembering the name on the order he picked up during your shift yesterday.
“That’s right.” He walked back over to the front desk. “So you’re (Y/n), your favorite book from childhood is The Phantom Tollbooth, and from the sweater you are wearing I can assume you’re a student?”
You looked down at the sweater with your school’s name and logo on the chest. “That’s right,” you chuckled. “And you’re Akaashi, I’m guessing you love reading more than anything in the world and you’re bold enough to ask a stranger for their number.”
You found the blush dusting his cheeks to be adorable, and your smirk lifted up until your face began to hurt. “I guess I am,” he mumbled.
“Well good.” You folded your hands in each other and rested your chin on them. “Because I’m not confident enough to do so.” You grabbed a pen from the cup holder to your side and wrote your number on a post-it.
“Thank you,” he said when you slid it towards him. “I’ll text you.”
You watched as he bid farewell, turned around and left. This seemingly perfect stranger who had asked such a bold question. The butterflies in your stomach would never seem to calm down.
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seatmate [ hhj. ]
summary: after being an introvert during your whole junior and senior highschool life, you meet hwang hyunjin on your first year of college and he becomes your seatmate/bestfriend, making you feel things that you've never felt before.. like butterflies in your stomach
genre: fluff, bestfriends to lovers (kinda boring tbh)
member/s: hwang hyunjin x fem reader
word count: 6.5K words
For the nth time that day, you grumbled to yourself as another crumpled ball of paper was "accidentally" thrown towards your head.
You tried your best to ignore their laughter and mean talking as to not give them the satisfaction they wanted by reacting or confronting them, simply pushing your glasses back higher onto the bridge of your nose.
It was your 3rd week of classes in college, and you were majoring in visual arts. As usual, you sat alone (the tables were made for two) and quiet next to the window at the back of class, where you had peace and silence all to yourself.
Peculiar though, as your homeroom professor actually came to your homeroom period that morning (because he never did ever since the second day of class), and introduced a new face to your class. You were clearly not expecting this, as it was already a few weeks into the semester and suddenly someone new arrives.
Shaking your head, you turn your gaze back to the window to your right and admire the morning breeze and sunlight with a smile on your face, not interested in the new student.
"--next to miss l/n y/n over there, for now at least. I'll fix your seating arrangement soon. We hope it's alright for you to sit at the back?"
You catch your professor's voice say your name, and suddenly you turn your attention back to the front of class, where a tall and handsome boy stood beside Mr. Choi.
"It's fine. since I'm tall, I'll have no problem sitting at the back." The guy says in a sweet and soft tone, facing his head towards you after he speaks.
Just as you thought he was about to come walk over, an annoyingly high pitched voice disturbs your ears and you irritatingly turn your head towards her, Geum Dayeon, that bitch who will never stop making your life miserable. "Mr. Choi! he can sit here beside me, on the front row, instead! Since he's a late comer, he should be up front to get used to the new environment, and I'll be more than happy to help him through class!"
You then look to her right and your eyes land on her best friend who gives her a surprised face. "I'm sure my bestfriend wont mind sitting with.." She trails off and suddenly your eyes meet, hers filled with hatred and disgust. "..y/n over there. "Isn't that right, Jiye?
With a shaky voice, you hear Jiye squeak in approval (she didn't have a choice, really) and you swore Dayeon's eyes practically glowed in satisfaction to hear the other's words.
"Hear that, Mr. Choi? She agrees! Go on now, girl. Get your stuff and shoo, Mr. Pretty Boy will be sitting with me-"
"It's fine, miss..?" The guy stops as he realizes that he didn't know her name and Dayeon continued for him.
"Dayeon! Geum Dayeon." She states proudly.
"Okay, it's actually fine. Seeing as your seatmate over there is wearing glasses, I don't think she should sit at the back. Also, she's your best friend! I wont take you guys away from each other, I'll just sit on the back instead." He smiled.
Mr. Choi gestured towards your direction to him as Dayeon and Jiye were visibly not happy about what was happening. The guy formally bows to Mr. Choi, Dayeon, and her bestfriend before finally walking towards my direction.
Okay..? This'll be your first time to have a seatmate in a while. Hmm, what a change.
Finally occupying the seat next to you, the guy takes his hand and leaves it in front of you for a handshake. "It's nice to meet you, y/n-ssi! I hope we'll be good friends."
Awkwardly taking his hand, you shook it back with the best smile you could conjure at the moment and nodded at him. "Uhmm.. I-it's nice to meet you too..?" Only then did you realize that you didn't hear his name.
"Hyunjin, Hwang Hyunjin." He smiled.
For the first time ever in your life, you felt butterflies in my stomach from his smile and electricity coursing through my veins as he held your hand.
- - -
Six months now passed ever since Hyunjin came into your life and hell, you didn't expect THAT much of a change.
For one, you magically had someone actually talk to you every 10 minutes or less. Your introverted mind thought that it was too much for your mouth to talk through all of those small conversations with him. Another, you almost never had alone time anymore, except when you go to the bathroom, of course. Coincidentally, your schedule matched that of Hyunjin's and he called himself your bestfriend now.
He often clung onto you, even through lunch! Well of course he also made his own group of friends and they became your friends as well. Their names were Jisung and Felix.
Your normally quiet and calm life turned chaotic and loud, thanks to those three. You loved them all, even if you have only spent a few months with them. Although you really couldn't help being sassy and snobbish towards them when they were loud (which was most of the time).
A loud series of chuckles woke you from your thoughts and your head automatically turns towards Hyunjin as you already recognized his voice.
"Oh," He chuckles again, "Sorry, y/n if that was too loud. It's just that," Now he just full-on laughed while also hitting his lap with his right hand and his other hand pointing towards the television.
Realizing that we wasn't really able to continue, you waited until he eventually stopped laughing. "That guy in the tv told a lame joke and I actually found it funny. That itself if funny, if you ask me. They hardly make any good jokes but that one really had me."
Looking at him and the tv with furrowed eyebrows, you shake your head and returned your focus on the book you were reading before you were.. disturbed.
The two of you were currently in Hyunjin's apartment, spending the first few days of Christmas break together and it was around 6 in the evening. Your parents never really spent holidays with you, and Hyunjin's parents were expecting him to come home in about 4 days, leaving some alone time for you two.
It was already normal for you to stay at his place anyway, you had no problem with your clothes or towels or even a toothbrush, you had them here as well. Same with Hyunjin at your place.
You and Hyunjin were on the couch, with you on the left side, a book in your hand and him on the right while watching tv.
"Hey darling, what are you so quiet for?" You hear Hyunjin's voice speak again, this time it was lacking the chuckles, being more soft and alluring.
At first you ignored his words, continuing to read the same paragraph for about 4 times now. You weren't really sure if the question was directed to you anyway.
That was until you felt a soft tap on your right shoulder and you turn your head towards him with confusion.
"I asked you a question and you just ignored me, y/n." He says with a pout.
You raised an eyebrow at him and asked, "Oh, so I'm darling now?
He softly snickers at your words and holds your shoulder this time. "When did you ever care about the nicknames I call you? C'mon, give your boy some attention~!" He whines, elongating the last word.
"'I'm reading, Hyunjin. Just go laugh some more at the tv's jokes, okay?" You say, fixing your glasses and giving him the look that says stop it before going back to your reading.
Not really meaning to notice, he gives out a pout that you see within your peripheral vision while still looking at you. It was very cute, you thought. Who wouldn't find this boy cute anyway? Similar to the very first time the two of you met, you feel tingling in your system and a weird warmth around your cheeks. It made you feel very squirmy and uneasy.
Still trying not to notice him, he touches you again this time, his hands moving down from your shoulder to hold your waist. You feel him pull you towards his chest, arms wrapping around your torso. It made you freeze in your position, not really expecting this. He then settles his head over your right shoulder and you feel his breath close to your ear.
"Come on, darling. Are you really not going to give me attention?" He says lowly, barely above a whisper.
Took you a while, but you finally realize your position. Your back was leaning onto his chest while he was leaning against the armrest of the couch, and his legs were caging you. Another wave of familiar heat on your face and butterflies in your stomach came washing over you as you feel his nose whiff along your hair, his breath brushing past the shell of your ear.
Your breath hitched, got stuck in your throat, and you froze in your position in front of him. You didn't really care about anything else in the room anymore, all your senses were focused on his hands around your waist, his head on yours, his lips whispering to your ear, and his hot breath blowing near.
"W-what are you doing, H-hyunjin?" You managed to stutter. You felt a slight vibration against your back and you figured that he was chuckling at you.
"Is my darling getting flustered?" He lowly speaks near your ear, obviously teasing you with the tone of his voice. At his words, you feel your cheeks heat up more, making you move your head away from where his ear was near you.
"Heeey don't move away, darling. Notice meee!" He whines again this time, and you unconsciously exhale the breath you were holding. You were relaxing in his arms, leaning more against him, and feeling more comfortable by the passing seconds without really realizing.
Deciding to give up, you close your book (without forgetting to put the bookmark of course) and put it away, settling your arms on top of Hyunjin's. You were completely leaning back against him now.
You hear a soft sigh of contentment leave his lips, and you do the same. You soon feel his nose move around your hair, softly sniffing.
"Hey darling, have I ever told you how much I love your scent? It's so refreshing, like a nice whiff of fresh air on a spring morning." He murmurs in your hair.
Your cheeks flush a light pink upon hearing his compliment. He's usually like this. Upon the few months that you've spent together, you found out that he was a very vocal person, voicing out compliments and sweet words from time to time, and you found it very endearing.
Hyunjin was the type of guy who’d treat you like your life mattered almost more than his. He would do things for you, give you mementos when he felt like it, care for you when you couldn't handle yourself, it was almost as if you were his boyfriend, actually.
Having these thoughts in your mind made you smile unconsciously, heaving a sigh and placing your arms over his on your torso.
"No, you've never really told me that before. Thanks, I like your scent too. It's very minty, reminds me of mint chocolate which I love very much." You reply to him, smiling as you remembered the last time you ate mint chocolate ice cream, which was actually with Hyunjin, coincidentally.
"Don't ever change your body wash or shampoo, okay? I don't think I'll ever get used to a different scent other than this." He says in a playfully angry tone.
"I'll make sure to keep that in mind, then." You say, not really sure about what to say anyway.
"If you ever change it, I'll only allow you to change into my body wash. Reminds me, you haven't really bathed yet today, right? Why don't you go do that - yes I'm letting you use my body wash - while I go get us some take-outs. Is Chinese alright?" He casually asks.
"Yeah, it's fine. I'll be taking my leave now." You say, meaning to get up and go to his room but his hands on your waist never moved, not giving you the chance to get away from him.
"Uhmm, Hyunjin, I have to get up?" He chuckles at your words and gives your head a light peck before finally letting you go.
Getting up was much more easier now and you soon made your way into his room to grab some of your essentials. Basically, you rummaged through your back to get panties and your bra, some shorts as well. You thought about getting a long sleeved shirt from one of his drawers that was filled with your clothes, but a baby blue sweater neatly folded on top of his study desk catches your attention, and you decided to get that instead. It was one of Hyunjin's sweaters that you absolutely loved. Whether it was him wearing it or you.
Chuckles leave your lips as you thought about how sneaky you were, wearing his clothes without permission. He never really cared anyway, and you suddenly remember that time when you first stepped into his apartment the first month after you became friends, when he casually says that what's his was yours as well.
You also didn't forget to grab your towel from behind his door and head over to the bathroom right after. From across the room, you see Hyunjin scrolling on his phone, probably choosing what to order for dinner.
"You're having beef wonton noodle and iced tea, right darling?" He calls out just before you enter the bathroom and you give him a smile in reply.
"You know me so well, don't you?" You say in a soft tone. He only scoffs in reply and raises his eyebrow at you. "I know you probably more than anyone else in this world." He says.
"Yeah right." You laugh, earning a laugh from him as well, before you finally entered the bathroom to take a quick shower.
By habit, you take your glasses off first before doing anything else. While undressing yourself, a smile was foolishly plastered on your face, eyes focusing on the rack placed beside the showerhead in Hyunjin's bathroom. On the top rack stood two big bottles of his favorite shampoo and body wash, and your smile widens even more.
Come to think of it, you actually had feelings for Hyunjin. Well, not really feelings feelings, it's more like a happy crush..? He makes you feel giddy and bubbly and uncontrollably squirmy in the inside. You couldn't explain it, but yeah it was a crush.
His caring and loving persona only made you like him even more, and boy it wasn't really hard to like Hyunjin anyway. What's hard was that he might not return the feelings, as he was this nice and caring for everyone in your friend group.
Sure, he never really asked them to stay over at his place like you as far as you remembered, but there are more ways of showing care for someone. Like treating you guys snacks and sweets after classes, asking you guys to hang-out at different places during weekends.
Deeming it as a complicated topic, you shake your head lightly to brush away the thoughts and continued in doing your business in the shower, lightly humming to a random tune.
Meanwhile on the other side of the walls, was Hyunjin sitting on the couch with thoughts running around his mind. He was smiling for no reason while staring at a random direction, looking weird.
What's in his mind? Well, to start everything off, you were in his arms today, emitting a comfortable warmth against his chest. It felt so amazing, he thought. It was as if you were made to be in his arms forever, your presence completing him like a missing puzzle piece.
Cringey, yes, but it was how he felt. The moment he first laid his eyes on you, he was blown away to see such depth in your eyes and beauty on your face. He was overwhelmed. He figured that Dayeon didn't like you right at the first time he saw her eyes stare at you with pure hatred, making him not like Dayeon either.
Feeling a little uncomfortable, Hyunjin thought about changing his clothes into something more comfortable for dinner. He was currently wearing sweatpants and a sweaty shirt, having worn them for light exercising earlier that day.
No, it wasn't to impress you.. right? Maybe just a little but, he thought. But seriously though, he didn't really want to wear a shirt that's already gotten so sweaty, so he went to his room to grab a new shirt. Passing by the bathroom, a smile returns to his lips as he hears your sweet voice singing.
Okay, he had to admit, he maybe liked you more than a bestfriend should, but he couldn't help it. You were sassy and brattish the first few weeks, him really having a hard time to befriend you, but once you started warming up to him, boy it was so much worth it.
Seeing your smile, hearing your laugh, feeling your touch, they were the little things that he would choose over anything else. Sometime around these days, he was planning to finally confess to you somehow. He knew that he shouldn't wait any longer, wanting to finally call you his after six months of pining over you.
After finally changing into something else (an oversized shirt and some shorts), he was just in time as the ring of his apartment's doorbell rang, a sign that the food has now arrived.
He took the take-out from the guy named Minhyung who delivered the food, thanking and paying him right after, before closing the door and setting the items on top of his dining table. He first set the contents out, separating yours from his with another smile on his face.
He couldn't help but think about how domestic it felt, setting the table for the two of you while you were in the shower. He was already used to having you around, and a day without you was very much incomplete for him now.
After setting the table, he made his way towards the door of the bathroom, ready to call you for dinner. Finally arriving there though, just as he was about to lift his hand to knock on the door, you opened it from the inside, having finished your shower and dressing yourself.
Your hair was simply wrapped in a towel, Hyunjin's oh-so-soft sweater which sleeves went past your hands and hem longer than your shorts hanging over your body, making it seem that you weren't wearing anything underneath.
You gave him a soft smile and a cute wave with your sweater sleeve covered hand, muttering a hey.
Hyunjin was speechless, seeing you almost drowning in one of his favorite sweaters and looking absolutely adorable without even trying. Furthermore, the scent of his own minty body was (and shampoo) was wafting around the bathroom, you especially, and he swears his heart will combust right then and there.
Not having enough self-control, he leans forward and wraps you in a gentle hug, careful not to crush you as if you were expensive china, irreplaceable and too precious to break.
"Oh," You gasp lightly, surprised by his actions. Not really caring anyway, you simply giggle and return the hug with equal warmth and grip. "What's wrong, Hyunjin? Are you alright?"
He spends his time in your arms a little longer before pulling away with a smile on his face. "It's nothing, really. Just wanted to hug you. You look so adorable in my sweater, darling. Even more that you used my essentials like I asked!" He releases a weird sound that was between a screech and a squeal as he felt so warm in the inside.
You laugh at his adorableness and weirdness before moving over to head into his room to wipe your hair a little more dry, but he holds your wrist before you could even move. "Where you going, darling?" He asks.
"Just gonna dry my hair a little more, you can go to the table first, I'll be quick." You give a sweet smile and head to his room real quick.
You expected to hear chairs pulling up from the dining area, but you only heard the door opening and closing again behind you and Hyunjin's flipflops tapping on the floor as he was walking over to you.
"I can help you with that, darling. Go sit on the edge of the bed, I'll dry your hair for you." He smiles, gesturing to the foot of the bed and you comply.
He follows you and grabs the towel from your hands. You take your glasses off first before sitting. The smile on his face wasn't faltering as he was softly tapping and rubbing the towel on your head and hair.
"Is that alright, darling?" He asks as he continues his work on your hair.
"Yep, that's fine. Thanks for helping, Jinnie-ah." You softly reply, a contented sigh leaving your lips.
His breath hitches as he hears the new nickname slipping from your lips. Cheeks reddening and warming up, he looks down in hopes that you wouldn't see it. "J-jinnie?" He asks.
"Yeah. I've been thinking about that nickname for quite a while now. Do you like it?"
His face only reddens more and he hums in agreement. "That's great then! Expect me to call you that more often. Isn't it so cute? Jinnie, Jinnie! Jinnie~ Jinnieee!" You repeat over and over again.
He blushes even more this time, chuckling along withy you as you finish having fun with his newly made nickname. "I think this is enough, Jinnie. Let's eat dinner now." You say, not forgetting your glasses before placing your hands over his and pulling them down.
Your hands now found their way to his wrists to pull him out of the dining room and to the dining area to finally have you dinner. The contents on the table only gain your attention more and you smile in excitement. You see your orders already next to each other on one side of the table, so you sit there, gesturing for him to sit too.
Laughing at your excitement, he soon sits in front of you as well. You thank him quickly before finally digging in, noises of satisfaction sounding in your throat. You were smiling and giggling while happily eating your dinner.
Hyunjin only started at you with fondness while slowly eating his dinner. Seeing you this happy made him happy as well. But he finds the silence deafening, so he starts the conversation.
"Hey darling, your birthday's coming up soon, right?" He asks.
Chuckling, you shake your head at him. You figured that he probably forgot, but you answer anyway. "My birthday isn't until two months, Jinnie. Don't worry too much."
"Hey, that isn't too long from now! It is coming up, and if you think that I forgot the date, then you're wrong." He sulks.
"If you really remember, what's the date, huh Jinnie?" You urge him further. Teasing Hyunjin was fun, he'd have his eyebrows furrowed and a cute glare would be present on his eyes, a pout on his lips.
"I know that it's the 19th of February, darling. Don't test me. I told you, I probably know you more than anyone else in this world!" He exclaims.
"Okay then. Good for you." You only smile and not, slurping on the iced tea that you absolutely loved.
"How do you plan to celebrate it?" He asks soon.
"I don't know.." You trail off. You were an only child, and your parents only really cared about their work, deeming business more important than their own daughter, apparently. You never thought too much about it anyway, as they pay for your school expenses and they give you monthly allowance. It was more than enough, actually, so you had no right to be angry at them whatsoever.
Being an only child also meant that you weren't surrounded by too much people growing up, partly your reason of being an introvert. There were only three maids working in your parents mansion, another was the driver that drive you to school everyday until you graduated middle school (where you didn't earn any friends at ALL).
Up until graduating middle school, every year for your birthday was the same. Your chef would cook you your favorite dish (which would differ every year depending on your wish) and seaweed soup would always be present. Then you would get different presents from your parents.
When you were in high school, you managed to take matters in your own hands, learning how to cook seaweed soup apparently, and taking out any food you wanted. In the evening, you would grab yourself slice of chocolate cake at a nearby coffee shop that you really liked.
By the third year of high school, you started getting these part time jobs to save some extra money for yourself as you planned to move out from your parents' mansion after graduating junior high school, and you did.
You figured that they would be able to support your expenses forever with all their money, but you can't really depend on your parents for too long right?
"..I'll probably just spend it like how I do every year, no biggie. Why do you ask, Jinnie?" You ask him back, maintaining eye contact with Hyunjin to (hopefully) not make him notice that you were stealing a few slices of pork from his platter.
Hyunjin did in fact see what you were doing, but he was too engrossed in your eyes to mind it (he just doesn't, really). He was planning to surprise you for your birthday, already planning something in his mind, but he thought to keep it a secret for the time being.
"Just curious, I don't know, since they missed your 18th birthday last year, maybe they will celebrate your 19th instead."
"Nah, they'd never. Besides, they don't have time for it, and if ever they will plan it, there wont be any visitors since our relatives don't really care about us and I don't have more than a few friends to invite. I don't want them to waste that much money on me." You shrugged.
He only nodded in reply before proceeding to eat again.
Time flew in a whim, you and Hyunjin currently hurled up against each other in front of the tv, watching some chic flick in the middle of the night.
The both of you had already washed up for the night, you going first as Hyunjin volunteered to fix the dishes since he was the one to set it up in the first place. More over, he just really didn't want you to think that you had to do the chores because you were staying over.
Similar to how you were cuddling earlier that day, his hands were situated on your waist while you were leaning onto his chest, relaxed and carefree. His head was again beside yours, chin resting on your right shoulder comfortably. Your hands were on top of his arms, slightly kneading them from time to time, and you were nearly about to sleep.
Hyunjin had noticed this, feeling your weight shift when you accidentally doze off and completely lean against him. He found it too adorable not to notice the first few times, but as it was happening more frequently, he decided to reach for the remote on his right side and turned the tv off, leaving the room dark and only lit by the moonlight from the windows.
Seeing that you weren't really able to carry yourself anymore, Hyunjin placed his arms under your shoulders and knees, bringing you to his room.
When you got there, he gently placed you on the right side of the bed (as you preferred), took your glasses off to place them on his nightstand, and covered you with his comforter, him going around the bed to tuck himself in beside you as well.
A quick peck on your forehead and a goodnight was all he said before snuggling up with you under the covers, slipping into the darkness.
- - -
"Darling, wake up!"
You slurred in your slumber, watting away whose ever hand it was shaking your shoulder.
"L/n y/n, if you don't wake up right now, I'm going to kiss you and I'm gonna like it-"
Realizing the words even before the sentence ended, you jolted up from your oh so peaceful sleep and looking into the direction from where the voice came from.
There sat Hyunjin on the other side of the bed you were currently lying on, a large smile playing on his face.
"Wha-what, what are you," You yawn and squint your eyes at the bright sunlight that met your face. "Jinnie, what are you doing here? Why are you in my apartment?"
He gave you a scrunched look for a second before his face softens. Hyunjin comes over to you place your glasses on your eyes and drag you off of the bed, hugging you from behind while also gently pushing you out of the room.
He leads you to your kitchen, opening the lights from the switch to your left and you were met with a scene.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!" They shout.
There behind your kitchen counter were Jisung and Felix wearing party hats, settled between them was a cake (white strawberry cake, your favorite), and behind them was a banner saying happy birthday.
You blinked your eyes once, twice, another time, before realizing what was happening.
"Wha- it's my birthday today?" You ask. It was a question directed to yourself, really but you had a habit of thinking aloud.
"Yes it is, you dummy. How could you forget your own birthday?" Felix says, playfully rolling his eyes before finding his arms around your body (Hyunjin moved out of the way).
You tighten your arms around him and say a bright thank you before pulling away. Jisung was next to come closer, hugging you tighter and forcefully swaying you side to side that you were afraid that your glasses would fall off while also loudly saying another happy birthday. After he pulled away, you simply stood there, still in shock.
Nobody has ever done this for you before. You felt tears pooling in your eyes behind your glasses, and Hyunjin returning his grasp around you only made them finally fall. "I love you guys.." There, you said it. You were so happy at the moment, the feel incomparable to anything else you've ever felt before.
They were your very first set of friends, and this was the first ever surprise birthday celebration anyone has ever held for you. You were grateful for having them by your side even if it hasn't even been a year ever since you all met, that fact only adding up to how much you appreciated their existence in your life.
"Happy birthday, darling. I hope you liked what we did for you.." You feel Hyunjin's warm breath on your right ear as he spoke.
You only nodded vigorously as a reply, turning around to return his embrace. Hyunjin lightly raises your glasses to your head before hugging you again, this time slightly tighter. With your right hand, you gestured for Jisung and Seungmin to settle in as well, the four of you engulfed in a loving hug.
After a few minutes, you release Hyunjin and the others followed suit.
"Oh fuck I haven't even brushed my teeth yet, or my hair, or fix my puffy just-woke-up face! Please excuse me guys, I'll be back real quick!" You run back into your room (which had a personal bathroom connected to it).
The three guys only chuckled at your leaving figure, using this time to place the cake onto the dining table with the other food that you liked to eat.
Time passed by rather quickly, the four of you spending the weekend together in your apartment until early evening. You happily and noisily ate brunch (your favorite were the seaweed soup made by Hyunjin's mom and the cake) after you freshened yourself that morning, and had a movie marathon in your living room with individual bowls of homemade popcorn settled between your hands, made by Jisung and Hyunjin in your microwave. That was probably the most fun you've ever had your whole life (apart from also celebrating Jisung and Felix's birthday in the amusement park last year, that was hella fun). A loving smile was on your face all day, and you doubted it would leave any sooner. You couldn't explain how much you grew on these boys, Hyunjin mostly, but you loved them all and you would never wish to lose your friendship with any of them.
By 6:15 in the evening, they were already bidding their goodbyes to you, saying that they had homework to do. Basic them, really, leaving a few undone school works to do on last minute. It was a Monday tomorrow, and you planned to take an early sleep that night.
But Hyunjin insisted on staying over for the night, wanting to spend more time with you on your first birthday celebration with him. That actually ruined your plans.
There you were now, tangled in each other's arms on your bed, watching some random series that was apparently popular these days. You weren't paying much attention though, as your mind was wandering around how warm it felt to be enveloped in Hyunjin's arms. It was somehow familiar now, as Hyunjin really liked cuddling with you for some reason. No, you didn't really mind it, you loved it as well, but sometimes you wished the reason for his touchiness was because he returned your feelings for him.
You unconsciously release a heavy sigh due to your thoughts, and Hyunjin didn't fail to notice this. Tapping the spacebar of your laptop to pause the episode, Hyunjin turned to you and looked into your eyes with worry.
"Are you feeling alright, darling?" He asks. His voice was soft and cautious, in case you weren't feeling alright.
"I'm fine, yeah don't worry. I was just.. thinking." You said honestly. Thinking of how I'm hopelessly in love with you and I'm just falling more and more because of how you're so kind to me.
"A penny for your thoughts, then?" He says next. You lightly chuckle on his choice of words before shaking your head no.
"They're.. not important, really. Don't mind me." You simply say. You didn't know if you could talk about this to him right.
"You sure? I would've drowned on your deep sigh there." He say again. This time, you laughed again, figuring that he was purposefully mingling with his words to make you feel.. better?
"Yeah.. I'm sure.. should we continue now?" You say, breaking eye contact with him and hoping to leave the topic before accidentally spilling the tea to him somehow.
But before you could even lift your hand, his arms were already holding onto your shoulders tightly to settle you directly in front of his not sitting up position.
"I've already told you about my ideal type before, right darling?" He asks.
You nod at this, raising your eyebrow at him after. "..Why are you asking this now?" Great timing, wasn't it? You were just thinking about your undeniable feelings for this perfectly beautiful specimen in front of you and there he was, probably about to talk to you about someone he likes.
In Hyunjin's mind, he was thanking the heavenly gods and goddesses or whoever it was that made his wishes come true.
Hold up though, what was he happy about? Well, for one, you were spending the last hours of your birthday in each other's arms, two, it felt like home for him to be with you, and lastly, you might or might not have thought aloud when he asked you what you were deeply thinking about.
Thinking of how I'm hopelessly in love with you and I'm just falling more and more because of how you're so kind to me. He repeats in his mind.
"Then you know how I like people with very warm personalities, not too loud or too quiet, who has soft spots for reading books and I specifically like those who wear glasses?" He says, reminding you of the first time he said those words to you, back when you were friends for only.. two months? 6 months ago, yeah.
"Yeah..?" You say. This topic didn't really make you feel right, him talking about which type of people he's attracted to. You tried your best to stop your ears from listening to hopefully not get your heart broken on your birthday.
"And to those people who are very cute and would wear my clothes that would be very oversized when they wear them?"
You nod again. You were barely listening now, mind wandering off into space or something.
"Those with (your eye color) eyes and (your hair color) hair?"
He figured you weren't really listening anymore, and he was actually amused by this. He thought that you were probably acting this way because you didn't know he was talking about you.
"Those I call darling, whose birthday is on the 19th of February and whose name is L/n Y/n?"
Hearing your name leave his lips, you were back into the right consciousness now, staring at him with wide eyes.
"What did you say, Hwang Hyunjin?"
"I’m saying that I love you, darling. I love you too, l/n y/n."
And with those words finally said, he closed the remaining distance between the two of you, lips colliding with each other.
It was sweet and slow paced, love wafting around. You felt him smile through it, hand on your nape and pulling you closer. Soon enough tongues were already gladly dancing with each other.
Before it became too heated, he decided to pull away also to let the both of you breathe again. There was warmth around your cheeks when he looked at you, him realizing that it must've been your first kiss.
Not completely satisfied enough, he decided to leave you pecks on your forehead, eyes, cheeks, nose, and a last one, the sweetest one, on your lips again, leaving a smile on his.
"Happy birthday, darling."
a/n: okay how was it? if there are any grammatical errors or typos, please don’t hesitate to tell me (thru asks or messages). i hope y’all liked it~~ i’m a sucker for fluff so yEAH hihi clingy hyunjin >>>>>
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So I found these super old Warren x Andrew fanfics on my computer...
TL;DR - Eris talks about “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” fanfiction about Warren and Andrew, old Internet fandom in general, hoarding computer files, and - once again - how fucking old she is. (See previous posts on the “bloggy” tag.)
Oh, wow! I knew I had a few old ones that aren’t online anymore saved - (a prescient decision, since the website they were archived on went defunct ten or fifteen years later) - but I also had a bunch of old URLs saved too, for some reason? Like, bookmarks? Even though they had been deleted from any of my browsers, the shortcuts were still saved in the same folder as the fanfics I had copied and saved. These shortcuts still take you directly to the original URLs, and some of them were posted on unlocked LiveJournal communities, so they are still accessible.
Before the creation of Archive of Our Own, fandoms mostly posted their work on LiveJournal, and even back when it was popular, Fanfiction.Net was called “The Pit.” Fanfiction.Net is frankly impossible to navigate - or at least it feels that way now - especially since they did not use character or pairing tags until later. Archive of Our Own is so easy to navigate that we are terribly spoiled. But anyway, LiveJournal communities, or “comms,” were full of people posting content about specific topics and accessible only by those members. Any user could follow public posts on a comm, but could only make their own posts in that comm if they were an approved member. And posters could also restrict posts to comm members only. People did that with personal blogs as well, creating permission lists, or just blanket restrictions to mutual Friends only.
(I think it is unfortunate the Internet doesn’t function like this anymore in some capacity. Message boards, the precursor to LiveJournal comms, still exist in some places, and even they are more comprehensible than today’s social media websites, like the maddening shitshow that is Tumblr. But that’s something other people have tackled much more thoughtfully than I can. That hyperlink takes you to a Tumblr thread I read recently about how different Web 2.0 is from the old Internet. And this one takes you to a thread talking about how Tumblr works.)
Now, obviously, some people deleted their old content purposefully and didn’t want it accessible anymore. I’ve done that myself. But it’s not like I’m going to upload them or anything, so I’m glad I saved some of those old fanfics that were lost to time. (Especially the old Xena ones I liked.)
As for fanfics that are still up on Fanfiction.Net or on old, publicly accessible LJ comms - whose authors could never have predicted someone would read literally 20 years later, and probably hoped they wouldn’t - the fics are still out there, so I’m going to re-read them.
(Ahhh, this is too funny! So, earlier on my “bloggy” tag, I posted a couple of Our Lady Peace songs that I used to associate with this pairing. Some of the fanfics I just found used Our Lady Peace lyrics in their titles, and now I’m remembering where I got the idea to use those songs and how I discovered that band.)
As for why I would have content from 20 years ago on my current laptop at all, I have been copying and transferring pretty much every file I have accumulated over the years as I upgrade to each new computer.
Along with all my personal photographs and videos, my old essays, stories and fanfiction, important financial documents, and my MP3 collection, I have saved pirated TV shows and movies - (I’ve deleted most of them, though, because I can find them elsewhere now) - old content from my now-defunct blogs, and yeah, a folder called “Purloined Fics and Essays.” (I also have a large folder of images, memes and GIFs that I saved back when I used the laptop more often, but that sort of stuff is saved in folders on my smartphone’s SD card these days. I keep screencaps from World of Warcraft on my laptop, though.) In this “Purloined Fics” folder was content by other people that I suspected would be lost to time someday. Same with some very old fanvids that either pre-date YouTube - when streaming didn’t exist and you had to download the files from a creator’s website directly - or I had suspected they would be taken off YouTube someday as well. I think it’s mostly the former.
So there you have it. I’m a hoarder. I have content I wrote in high school. In fact, I probably have a copy of everything I have ever written. I have copies of all my old digital photographs from over the years. I have poorly shot videos from a road trip I took once, that I never edited into a film. I have a copy of the last college essay I ever wrote. It was about the film “Barton Fink,” and I was drunk on tequila when I wrote it.
I have old diary entries, and I can go to specific dates and tell you what happened - (or what I claim happened) - that day. My memories come from all the stories I’ve told and retold, and I’m not sure what is a memory of a memory anymore, and what really happened. I guess that’s what the photographs and videos are for.
Anyway, yeah. Long story short is I saved some old stuff by other fanfiction authors, and I’m glad that I did.
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Hi! Do you have any Nicky and Joe fic recommendations?
oof. do I.
for a complete list of everything i’ve really really adored, you should check out my ao3 bookmarks. there’s maybe one or two fics in there that I didn’t like but bookmarked anyway (sometimes even fic I don’t like gets stuck in my head, and then I go crazy if I can’t find it) but for the most part I think that should be a solid rec list!
if you don’t want to read through all those (and I don’t blame you, I have like 50+ joenicky bookmarks) then a few of my absolute favorite fics are the following (below the cut):
remember me for centuries by @smilebackwards:
“Quickly. Up,” the man at Joe’s side says, lifting beneath Joe’s elbow, and Joe doesn’t know him but somehow he thinks, I’d follow you anywhere, and then he gets up and he does.
Or: the one where Joe has amnesia but he and Nicky are still devoted husbands
if you’re only going to read one fic I recommend, it should be this one. it’s absolutely heart wrenching, gorgeously written, and i’m not exaggerating when I say I thought about it several times a day for weeks after I read it. totally beautiful.
Ways to Go by @deanniker-wastingtime
“Don’t -” Nicolo begins, but has no idea what should come next. He has no idea what he needs the man not to do. He only knows what he wants the man to do, and that is to lay hands upon him again. Nicolo has the sudden, mad urge to drop the knife, close the distance between them in the hopes that he might be killed a second time.
this is my favorite get-together fic of theirs! it chronicles their meeting in the crusades and the early part of their relationship, but in a really unique and beautiful way.
As You’ve Always Been by @deanniker-wastingtime
It is no more filthy or grim than others they have been held in over the centuries, but this cell feels different. Chains are thicker now, walls are stronger. There are more guns, they fire faster if not more accurately. And the crushing weight of the ocean hangs over their heads. Yusuf closes his eyes, tries to calm himself with the sound of Nicolo breathing, the feel of his bony ankle against his own calf. Nicolo still doesn’t speak, but after a time he begins to hum - calm, soothing things he knows Yusuf likes.
They've been inseparable for centuries but never quite managed to say they're in love.
by the same author, this is a really gorgeous story that stuck with me vividly. there’s a scene where nicky tries to hold joe close to his body, with his legs around his waist, and it’s absolutely burned into my brain.
the person falling here is me by storm_petroel
They took Nicky in 1983. This is everything that happened next.
this is based on you’re a dream to me by @smilebackwards and is absolutely gorgeous. (both of them are absolutely gorgeous, of course, but I particularly enjoyed nicky’s perspective.)
Filling Your Cup by merle_p
“You do realize that Eid al-Fitr is not until July?” Joe says slowly, taking in the pillows arranged around the blanket, the lit citronella candles, and the string of cheap Christmas lights Nicky must have borrowed from a neighbor to provide additional light.
“I know,” Nicky shrugs, “just felt like doing something different tonight.” His tone is easy, his posture casual, but his gaze is hovering somewhere near Joe’s collarbone, which means Nicky noticed that something is up with him but doesn’t want to come right out and say.
there’s not enough fic in this fandom about joe’s religion, and this is a really lovely take on it! it’s also aggressively soft and features a caring, protective nicky, which I always love.
The Subtle Approach by @optimismology
Yusuf, you villain.
Never have I known such a cruel and unjust man as the likes of you. Were you raised by dogs and taught no human decency? I can imagine no other reason why you would choose to torment me so.
I heard your protestations, but I refuse to believe that you fell into the pond by accident. There were ample places to stand upon solid ground, and you are a nimble man. No, you chose to leap in so that you might emerge, dripping wet, your loose white shirt near-transparent, and be forced to strip your outer garments within my view. I hope you choke upon your dinner, and your clothes never lose the scent of pond algae, you temptation.
Yours in frustration,
The joy of this fandom is that your Regency AU doesn't even need to be an AU.
there’s a line in this fic about nicky’s nose being a beak, and that concept has literally lived in my head rent free since. like, no joke, I think about it daily. I think about it every time I see luca marinelli’s nose. I think about it every time I see a photo or drawing of joe looking fond. literally every time. this is just aggressively, wonderfully soft.
Stay With Me by taxicab12
“Crete, three summers from now?” Andy asked.
Quynh nodded again.
“Crete?” Nicolò asked.
“Quynh wants to stay,” she said. “You are welcome to stay or go, but I’m getting out of this kingdom.”
A small smile curved Nicolò’s lips, hardly even noticeable to anyone who didn’t know his face as well as Yusuf did.
“We’re splitting up?” Yusuf asked, not smiling.
one of my favorite short fics. accomplishes so much in such a short span of time and is so soft i’ve re-read it at least half a dozen times.
While His Name is Still Spoken by merle_p
“What is this?” he asked, and the Old Guy sighed and said heavily:
“That’s the Immortals.”
Don frowned. “Well, if they are immortal, they shouldn’t be causing a lot of work, now, should they?”
The Old Guy laughed hollowly. “Just wait a few years,” he said, and pulled the door shut behind him. “You’ll see.”
(In which Joe loses his head and Nicky is no one’s fucking Scheherazade)
I had to go looking for this one today to bookmark it, because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. it’s such a fun, interesting taking on the afterlife in a world with immortality, and nicky’s emotions felt so raw and well-depicted.
incurable by @bewires
Between her sons, Yusuf had been the fighter. He had been her bright star as a child, racing through the house, excited about everything he learned. He’d learned swordplay like it was a science; learned science like it was poetry; learned poetry like it was breathing. Ibrahim had been her steady pair of hands, hiding behind his brother when strangers knocked on the door, handing her spices while she cooked, always the voice of reason to back up his brother’s verses.
He leaves an empty, carved-out space in their home, and in his place, Yusuf has brought home a ghost.
OR: Yusuf's mother meets Nicky.
i’ve always adored meet the parents fic, and this managed to achieve it in a canon way for this fandom when I hadn’t thought it was possible. I absolutely love how vibrant the OCs seem, to the extent that they feel like characters straight from the narrative; and the message and writing is so lovely.
Passing for Normal by Jynguo
Nile gets invited to a party. Or rather, Joe and Nicky get invited to a party, and they ask if they can bring a friend.
“Wait,” Nile says. “You guys have friends?”
In which Joe and Nicky show Nile that there's more to this life than killing and dying and fighting other people's wars.
this is such a fun and unique take on what the social lives of the old guard would look like. also, I love some domesticity, which this really is.
War Games by AirgiodSLV
“Speaking of keeping up,” Andy muses. “We need to start training you.”
Training, Nile discovers, involves what Andy calls ‘retrieval missions’ and what Nile calls ‘capture the flag’.
this was so fun and lighthearted but also so great at depicting the team dynamics. I loved reading about how the different pairings of the team would work on a capture the flag team and there’s just a lot of soft moments.
Spring in Malta by aebleskiver
The years have flashed by; a marvel to think how long they’ve been walking this world side by side, hiding from each other in plain sight.
Or: Joe and Nicky go through a rough patch.
for all your angst with a happy ending needs. it really made my chest ache for a good moment there, and as sad as I was about it, it was really lovely. it also felt very much in character, which I think is hard for a breakup fic in this fandom to achieve.
The Other Matter by @optimismology
He wants Yusuf to hold his hand again. Grab his ankle. Flick his ear. Thrust his sword into his chest and breath into his mouth.
Yet, they have the long ocean of eternity ahead of them. These whims are nothing but a swell under their ship: gone as soon as they come. Nicolo knows better than to jump overboard and drown alone trying to chase them.
Alternate title: "You'd Feel Pretty Weird If You Developed a Crush on the Only Other Immortal You Know, Right?"
okay, I lied, I have two favorite get-together fics, and this is the other one. there’s literally nothing I don’t like about this fic. it’s just lovely, through and through. thoroughly fantastic.
Don’t Let Go by @monicashipsnickyjoe
Joe’s been in worse situations. None that he can think of right now, but he’s a bit pre-occupied, holding on to Nicky’s hand as he is, dangling over a sheer cliff face.
just a really soft short fic, if a little painful. the imagery is really vibrant
Purity of Form by seascribble
Two centuries later, give or take a few decades, Yusuf is perhaps not as good a Muslim, in the strictest sense of following the deen, as he had been before falling in with Nicolò--falling in love with Nicolò--but he still takes pride in maintaining his fitrah.
you want a fic to make you laugh and make your heart ache at the same time? this is it. so funny and enjoyable while somehow also achingly sweet and intimate
there is no rest for the living (or the dead) by @1derspark
“There is no perspective,” she hisses. “I see clearer than I ever have before. Clearer than you would if you stood where I am. What exactly would you be doing if it was Nicolo in that coffin?”
There is no good way to answer. Andromache already knows what Yusuf will say. They are similar in the way that they love. They make spectacles of it. Declarations in murder and in diction.
I would burn down the world for him. Just as we did Jerusalem. I would gladly raze it all to the ground if only I could pick him up out of the ashes. And then we’d be kings. Answering to no one but each other, and for the first time in our eternity be left to love in peace.
(Or Yusuf and Nicolo find Andromache after England and face the aftermath.)
heartwrenching fic about quynh’s capture. there’s a scene at the end with joe and nicky that almost made me cry. (I never cry.) really, everything by this author is fantastic - do yourself a favor and go through their ao3 page if you haven’t already
honestly, go through the ao3 page of every author with a story on this list. most of these authors i’ve read all the joenicky fic they’ve ever produced; these are my personal favorites, but yours very well may be different. and I hope you enjoyed this list or found it helpful! I was gonna pick like five fics and then I went overboard asfgdklf i’m sorry if this is too much
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We’re back, ladies! Matthew Morgan has returned, and he’s two years older that he was when we last saw him. You can start from the beginning of Full Circle on Ao3. Enjoy!
He’s got his headphones on, and the greater world doesn’t exist.
Instead, he is completely absorbed in a soundscape from half a world away. Slavic mutterings blend easily with searing hot street pans, static-soaked rain, and a continuous strand of muffled, melodic folk songs. His mind wanders back to the sights and smells—God, the smells—of Leningrad and his long evenings spent bargaining over peppers, and pickles, and potato soups worth waiting for. He remembers the stone at his feet and every nuanced inch of dialect. He remembers the stinging scent of iron statues after a long summer rain, and he remembers dancing well into the night. His time spent studying in the Soviet Union returns to him in waves, triggered by the sound of heavy voices.
In comparison, Virginia seems pale and flat. He spends his days in darkness, translating conversations that ain’t got much meaning. He spends his nights split between a gym and a government assigned studio apartment that ain’t got much room. While his stomach yearns for the comfort of a freshly prepared stroganoff, he’s absentmindedly downing M&Ms for lunch instead, bought from the nearby vending machine for the third day in a row.
He tells himself that the peanuts have protein, and does his best to ignore his mama’s voice lecturing him in the back of his mind.
Just as he begins to debate which song would sound best through his specially designed, Army funded headphones (a downright unbreakable tie held between Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now and Pink Floyd’s Welcome to the Machine), he catches a familiar voice through a bugged frequency. He’ll auditorily observe the subject in question for another two hours or so as he continues to debate whether or not anyone can truly top Queen anyway.
He loses track of the time, dissolving into the looping, mindless effort of transmission and translation. It could be one hour or it could be four, but eventually, he feels the tap of two fingers on his shoulder, yanking him back into uniformly measured time. “You ready, son?”
Cooper seems to have aged five years in the past two. This war, however quiet, grinds at his very bones. “Yes sir,” is all Matt has to say before the two of them are on the move.
The rare break in his usually predictable afternoon is when he’s asked to take part in one of the half-dozen intelligence briefings that occupy the various conference rooms throughout the day. They’re the kind of starkly boring meetings that are inevitably pushed back by the hour, as a result of the world’s decidedly unboring events—tension in the Middle East, or advances between the Koreas, or battle carriers crossing over into waters that ought not to be crossed into. Before long, his 13:00 briefing becomes a 15:27 coffee break and he’s written all of his notes for nothing.
And sure enough, the room smells of a stale dark roast as Cooper leads them in. He leaves Matt with a pat on the shoulder, then makes himself comfortable by the carafe. “Gentlemen,” he says, pouring himself a cup. “If y’all are ready.”
The general consensus of the room seems to be that, yes, they are ready and that, no, they will not be staying for very long. It’s a handful of officers who rank well above him, each of them taking a seat around the great concrete table at the center of the room. Matt distributes an armful of identical manila envelopes, dodging chairs as they lean and spin and scooch. He lands at the head of the table in front of a chalkboard with long erased markings from a previous presentation. There’s a headphone-fueled haze that still swims around his mind, so he sharpens up with a breath.
Finally, he flips open the first page of his folder and everyone else in the room follows suit. “Gentlemen,” he says. “If you’ll all join me on page three of the transcription report, I’d like to point out the suspected Soviet interference with the growing tension in Poland.”
The hardest part about these briefings is that no one asks any questions. Everyone sitting before him knows more than he does, and any information he discovers is just one strand in a web that men far smarter than him are meant to decipher. He is met with only the click of a pen. The squeak of a chair. Matt hasn’t got much time, so he doesn’t linger on the silence.
“You can find a detailed analysis on page thirty, should you need to reference it at a later time, but in summary: one of our bugs successfully picked up a poker game in Moscow that included, among others, two high-ranking Polish officials, a former member of the KGB, and the USSR defense minister. Based on this conversation, it’s likely that the Polish People’s Republic will succumb to the rising anit-communist movement by late July—early September at the latest.”
Click, click, click. Someone in the room favors fiddling with their pen, rather than writing with it. Still, there is no comment, but Matt has learned that sometimes, the lack of critique can be a legitimate success.
“The Soviets are discussing the possibility of aid. They’ll do whatever it takes to keep the unions out of power, and it’s likely we see a repeat of the 1970 strikes—”
“Who did your Polish?”
It’s another voice in the room and, more than that, it’s a question he doesn’t quite understand. He’s usually so quick to respond, answers falling out of him, full of information that’s bursting at the seams. But he’s never heard this voice before, and he doesn’t understand the question. “Sorry?”
He looks up across the table, and lands on the man who holds his pen at eye level, thumb on the button. His tag reads Smith and his free hand is split into a series of bookmarks throughout various pages of the report. “There’s a few lines of Polish in the transcript,” he says. “Who translated it?”
Smith is greying at his temples, but he doesn’t look old. Just a pair of smile lines. Some faint crows feet. He doesn’t strike Matt as a simple man, but the question feels so far behind. “I did, sir.”
This carves a little crease right in the center of Smith’s forehead. Another wrinkle. “My mistake,” he says. “I thought you translated the Russian.”
Matt blinks. “Yes, sir.”
At some point during the course of his military intelligence career, Matt has stopped encountering people who act impressed. In Hay Springs, Nebraska, everything is impressive. But in Army Intelligence, everyone has seen everything there is to see. They know everything there is to know. In a field run and operated by people who thrive on preemptive strategy, there just aren’t a whole lot of surprises.
Smith ain’t impressed. But he could get there real soon. “You translated this entire transcript?”
“I didn’t realize you were trained in both languages.”
It’s Cooper’s turn to talk now and when he does, he speaks with one of those wide smiles that tells everyone else he knows something that they don’t. “He ain’t.”
With that, all eyes are back on Matt. Intelligence officers from every branch of the military look on with an expectant glare, waiting. There’s an explanation owed, definitely, but the answer to this particular question isn’t written out in his meticulously constructed manila folders. “There were only nine lines of Polish, sir.”
It doesn’t change Smith’s stern expression. “Which is significant because…?”
The silence feels louder than ever before. He shuffles through his papers, checking his own facts as he speaks. “This conversation took place over the course of four hours. And the Polish is, frankly, insignificant. Conversational. It would have taken at least a week to get a formal Polish translation and all of the important parts are in Russian. This is time-sensitive information and the most efficient means of obtaining it was if I just did it myself.” He looks up. “Sir.”
Smith studies him, in a way that Matt ain’t used to being studied. “And where did you learn to speak Polish?”
There aren’t many urges that can break through Matt’s military mindset nowadays, but in this moment, it takes everything he has not to shrug. “Spend eight hours a day with Slavs in your ear, you start to pick up on what they’re saying.”
People in this line of work are never impressed, but if they are, they might look a lot like Smith does in that moment. “Sorry, you picked up Polish?”
“The two are very similar,” Matt says, and it occurs to him that Smith probably already knows this. “Sir, is there a concern about the accuracy of the translation? Because I can—”
“No concerns,” says Smith with a wave. “It’s a spot on interpretation. I was going to compliment your co-translator—some of these words don't have direct English translations. The kombinować, as an example—”
“Yeah, I’m not sure that the connotation is correct there—”
“It is,” Smith says, leaning forward in his chair. He sets his pen down, lets the report fall to a close, and crosses his hands atop the table. “Nevertheless, it appears as though the person I should be complimenting is you, Mr…”
“Morgan,” he says. “Matthew Morgan.”
“Right, Mr. Morgan,” he says with a smile. “Any other languages we should know about before we proceed?”
He suspects that this question doesn’t truly require an answer, but Matt ain’t one to leave superior officers to linger. “Well sir,” he says. “My German is getting pretty good, but that one only just started to click a few months ago, so it’ll probably be another couple of weeks before I’m fluent.”
He’s not trying to be funny, but even so, both Smith and Cooper break out into a low chuckle. It fills the tiny room from wall to wall, swallowing the silence whole. It’s Smith who finally says, “Very good,” and Matt starts to feel a little lighter. “Please, carry on with the brief.”
He follows the order and does so with his nose down, reviewing his outline of growing tensions across the world with the kind of strict professionalism his pops would be proud of. There are no further questions from the room and each man takes notes as he sees fit. They’re back to knowing everything about everything.
The gentleman from the Navy leaves first, somewhere amidst Matt’s coverage of Poland’s systemic food failures for the lower and middle class. Then, the officer from the Air Force checks his watch and takes a leave of his own. Matt pays them no mind, knowing full well that he spends his busy days with even busier men and that none of it is to be taken personally. They peel off one by one until he’s speaking to a room of two.
And by the way Smith looks at him, Matt reckons he ain’t doing much listening anyway.
He closes his folder and stands up straight again, presenting to a room that has stopped caring about what he has to say. “Well, it looks like my time might be up,” he says. “My direct line is listed in the report, should you have any questions.”
Smith is still smiling, a restful sort of glee in his eye, as though he’s Dr. Abraham Erskine and he’s just found his Steve Rogers. His pen dances between his fingers—one, two, flip; one, two, flip—until it finally lands at the tip of his upper lip. “That was very thorough, Mr. Morgan, thank you.”
Matt stands just a little taller. “Thank you, sir,” he says. “To tell you the truth, they don’t usually let me get that far.”
At this, Cooper huffs out a laugh, then turns toward Smith. “You know how it is ‘round here,” he says. “All these military men don’t know how to show up on time, but as soon as it’s time to leave, they’re suddenly bound by their watches.”
Smith nods, as though he knows all too well. “I do remember those days,” he says. Then, with a sly glance toward Cooper. “And if I’m remembering correctly, Samuel, you were one of the worst offenders.”
Cooper waves his hand, stands from his chair. “That don’t seem like the sorta thing we need to linger on.”
And Smith stands to join him, his copy of Matt’s report tucked under his elbow. “Of course not,” he says, ever so graciously. “Why linger on the truth?”
Matt feels as though he’s intruding, listening in on this conversation in the same way he might eavesdrop on a Russian poker game. He’s gotten very good at hearing the undertones of a conversation, and there is an intimacy between the two of them that extends beyond colleagues. If he had to name it, he’d say Smith reminds him a lot of Monty.
“Morgan,” Cooper says, changing the subject. He reaches a hand out to Matt’s shoulder and guides him in close. “This here is Alexander Smith. He and I used to work SIGINT together.”
Smith holds out his hand, and Matt takes it with a firm shake. “Used to, sir?”
“I’ve left my Army days behind me,” Smith says. “If this were a proper introduction, it might include my current title: Director of Operations.”
“For the CIA.”
Matt’s met plenty of high ranking officials in his time. Five-star generals and naval admirals. Senators and ambassadors. Hay Spring High’s class of ‘77 prom queen. There’s not much left to intimidate him anymore, but something about those three little letters sparks an uneasy curiosity.
Smith has known Matt for all of ten minutes, and already he seems to have a perfect read on him. “That was a pretty bold move, claiming your Polish translation like that,” he says. “That kind of thing doesn’t usually fly around here—they’re real sticklers for procedure. Rules, and the like.”
Matt does shrug this time, despite all of his military training against it. “Well, sir, I never saw much good in lying after you’ve already been caught.”
This earns Matt an even wider smile than before. “No, definitely not.” Smith leans in closer, his next words spoken in a low, conspiratorial tone. “It only makes your next lie that much harder to tell.”
The sentiment of the statement sends a shock down Matt’s spine. It aligns exactly with his impression of the CIA, yet it still catches him off guard. Some part of him had always believed that the stories weren’t quite true. He had thought that they were exaggerated—by the press, by the public, or maybe even by the agents themselves. But Smith’s words give Matt a glimpse into a world that lives up to all of its legends and Matt realizes that the most disorienting thing about the CIA is that they’re exactly who they say they are, despite having every reason not to be.
Cooper’s voice is a comfort in a strange moment, which is not something Matt ever thought he would say about Cooper’s voice. “I asked Alex to come meet you,” he said. “Might be worth getting to know each other.”
It’s another one of those undertones. He’s picking up on unsaid words and translating them before he can even register the process. This ain’t an introduction, so much as it’s an invitation and for reasons he might never know, Don’t Stop Me Now is stuck on a loop in his head.
Smith crosses his arms across his chest and gives Matt one final look over. “How about I buy you dinner tonight?” he says. It’s phrased like a question, but Matt knows better. “You and I can have a conversation about how you want to serve this country.”
It's starting to seem like Matt is destined to have this same conversation with different men every couple of years. And while he’s honored to be asked, it all strikes him as more trouble than it’s worth. He’s only just started to feel confident with where he’s at.
But his stomach grumbles, because the truth of the matter is that even the Peanut M&Ms don’t make for much of a meal. Whatever the Director has in mind, it’s probably better than the grilled chicken waiting for him in the back of his fridge. “I’ll be working late tonight,” Matt says. “We just got the latest transcripts in from the Kiev carrier and—”
“I’ll wait,” Smith says, without so much as a flinch. He pulls a small white card out of his pocket and holds it out. “I’ve got nowhere else to be except right here, talking to you. You just call me when you’re done for the night and I’ll send a car.”
It seems counterintuitive for the Director of Operations of the Central Intelligence Agency to have a business card, but it’s all right there, written out across cardstock just above his name and phone number. Matt runs the edges across the pads of his fingers. He runs his thumb over the seal.
By the time he looks back up, Smith and Cooper are already gone, and Matt is finally down to a room with no one else in it.
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More DND with Jay
(Because Jay has a problem)
After the “Death” of Ticket Master, his sword popped out a new god; Task Master. He’s basically a really whiny Mr. Poopybutthole and is super jazzed to be promoted into this position. Apparently, it’s the position he wanted.
Because of the situation we were in, he marked us all with a bracelet so he could keep track of all of us. With the exception of Koejin, who was able to move in time to keep the bracelet off her. When Koejin refused to put it on, Hennessy was able to convince him that Koejin would be a loyal follower. Task Master kinda shrugged it off and just stated he would be able to see through her eyes when she lied anyway.
Task Master then opened up two portals back to the mortal world; one from where we left off and the second to where we were heading. Where we were heading was being demolished by a giant worm (General Purple) and Mrs. Red.
But there was still unfinished business in the tunnels. Wreybar’s entire family was down there and so was Art’s sister. We ended up splitting the party.
Hennessy, who went into the tunnels with us, wasn’t happy when he found out (he headed through first)
Hennessy: (angry sputtering)
Art: Hennessy, it’s okay. Just... stay calm. We’ll see them when we get out of here.
Art’s hand: (Forms a mouth and speaks in Ticket Master’s voice) Yes, Hennessy, stay calm.
Art: (Stares at his hand) The fuck?! How?! What?!?!
Ticket Master: Well, I needed a way to communicate with you. So, I accessed your hand as it... what’s that?
Art: What’s what?
Ticket Master: That! On your wrist! Take it off!
Art: (Tries to take off the bracelet only to have it stay right where it was) yeah, no can do, bud.
Ticket Master: No, you have to remove it! Hennessy! Do something! Use magic! Get rid of it!
Hennessy: uhhh...(studies the bracelet for a moment) um...(pulls out a cloth and ties it around Art’s hand, gagging Ticket Master)
Ticket Master: Mmmphh!
Art: (fake innocent look at the hand) Is that better?
Hennessy: I just... don’t have the energy to deal with him right now....
(Later, further in the dungeon)
DM: So you guys come to a door that’s slightly ajar.
Me: Okay, I peak my head in all stealthy-like. (Pretty high Stealth roll)
DM: Alright, Art. So you look in and see a large, dim room with a chest in the center. Sitting on top is a goblin who hasn’t noticed you yet. On the far side is a glass room with another opening only big enough for Wreybar.
Me: Is the room bright enough for Hennessy to see?
DM: Yeah, no need for darkvision.
Art: (Relays this info to the rest of the group.)
Everyone: (Walks in and alerts the goblin to their presence.)
Goblin: (Starts shouting at them. Only Hennessy understands him)
Hennessy starts talking to the goblin and finds out his name is Robert Lin. He’s sitting on the chest because something in it tried to bite his hand off. Hector was the reason for him being stuck there. (Hector’s been trying to lead us into situations that would kill us for a while now.)
Art: Hey, wouldn’t it be funny if there was a little mimic inside the chest?
Alabaster: Seems rather redundant.
Art: Just saying it be funny.
Wreybar goes into the room and finds a book of monsters. Hennessy looks inside it and finds some pages are worn, along side a bookmark that says “this is what is in the chest.” We come down to three different creatures. Blue slime, tiny blue dragons, and water.
Chest: (speaking draconic)
Everyone: Yep, dragons. Definitely dragons...
Hector: We could just leave him here and keep going. You know, there’s a really cool statue in the other room with glowing red eyes. We should check it out. Any takers?
Everyone: (Silently glaring at him)
Hector: Guess not.
Hennessy: Maybe you should tell us about why you left our friend here on a chest and we might consider listening to you.
Hector: I don’t need to tell you anything. You don’t have that skeleton with you anymore. (Note: Skelly went with the other team.)
Art, fed up and pissed off now: Alright, look. You have managed to piss off everyone here in one way or another. Now, what you’re going to do is shut your mouth until we speak to you and answer all of our questions, or I’m going to make you wish it was Skelly here!
Hector: (Begins to do a mocking impression of Art)
Art: (Rolls extremely high on intimidation)
DM: Art, as you’re shouting at Hector, the air around you begins to heat up and crackle. You begin to glow a little and, as Hector looks up at you, he is struck by fear. The black eyed glare, the horns, the heat, it’s all a perfect terrifying picture. He’s so scared, in fact, that he passes out from fear.
Art:....shit. (smacks him a few times in attempt to wake him up. he doesn’t move.) uhhh, whoops.... hm...
(Art then proceeds to move Hector to safe places and make sure he doesn’t die. After that, he agrees to the idea of their new goblin buddy dragging him around with a rope. No one else cares about whether Hector lives or dies. Art’s motives and mind confuse even me sometimes...)
(Next room has an old mining type rail with a curtain leading into a long, dark, void-like hallway. The void is described to be something very Ticket Master-y.)
Art: (takes the wrapping off his hand.)
Ticket Master: Bleh! Ugh! Hennessy! What is that, your dirty laundry?! Ugh... Hello...
Art: Hey, uh, just a quick question. Do you know anything about this room?
Ticket Master:..... I’ll need to have a better look. Put your hand out.
Art: (does that)
Ticket Master: ....Okay, now bring me back.
Art: (does that too.)
Ticket Master: Art, do you see any eyes here?! I have no idea what fucking room you’re talking about!
(DM: Ticket Master isn’t at all his cool self. You can hear the frustration in his tone which is completely new to you.
Me: Yeah. Honestly it’s kinda nice.)
Art, sighing: Okay. It’s a room with a mining rail. Ring any bells? Figured you’d know considering you were down here before us.
Ticket Master: Oh you figured as much? Well, I still have no idea....
Art: Ah, okay. It was worth a shot. So on goes the gag again.
Ticket Master: No, wait! (Art reapplies the cloth) Mrrrph!
(We go down the rails and see that it’s a presentation talking about the generals, all of it hosted by Mrs. Red. It fast forwards at certain points, but then stops towards the end to play about Purple.)
Red: And then we have my good friend, Purple. He can turn into literally anything and use its abilities to his full advantage. He’s unstoppable. So, my suggestion to you? Jump into the void. There, you can be brought back to your lives with no memories of this. Simple, easy, quick.
Hennessy: Clearly, this is some pre-recorded message.
Art: Has to be.
Red: Oh, Hennessy, is it so clear? And it ‘has to be,’ Art?
Alabaster: How is this possible? We saw you on the back of the giant worm in Althori!
Hennessy: After being stabbed by Eltbalm.
DM: Hennessy, (After rolling Arcana) you remember reading about this type of magic. It’s a projection of a person’s mind. So, that really is Red in front of you.
Red: Yes, thank you for that. Speaking of which, could you tell me how that’s possible?
Art: We could.
Red:.... (impatiently waiting for an explanation Art won’t deliver. ((Art is soooo dead when she gets her hands on him.)))
Alabaster: ....It was a gift.... for you...
Hennessy: Either way, we must move on, for now. Time to continue on our quest to stop you. (climbs out of the car.)
Art: See you soon, Red. (follows after Hennessy and Alabaster)
Red: One more thing. Tell that tentacle monstrosity you call Ticket Master that I’m coming for him. And I’ll take great pleasure in killing him.
Art: Yeah... good luck with that one...
(Everyone heads out of the room.)
(We all head into a new room with a new puzzle having to do with statues of Mrs. Red. But then, a large projection plays on the wall and shows Koejin looking at us in confusion. On her end, it’s a random floating rock. A homebrew move Alabaster has is Pelor Message. It works like Message but with no distance limit. However, he can only message poeple who are either followers of Pelor or supporters of the belief. Koejin’s a supporter.)
Alabaster: Hello, Koejin! We seem to be able to see you!
Koejin: Wait. Are you guys in the floating rock?! (pokes it)
Art: Hey, do me a favor and yell at her for poking strange magical objects. (for context: Koejin has stopped Art from poking at magical items about three times already. She’s literally kept him alive in most cases.)
Alabaster: Art would like to chasitise you for touching unknown magical artifacts.
Koejin: Psh, it’s fiiiiiine. But, Alabaster! Look who we ran into! (Koejin pulls an elf over into view and points at him. It’s Alabaster’s brother.)
Alabaster: (overjoyed rambling)
Art, leaning over to Hennessy: Not to be racist but.... doesn’t that guy look an awful lot like Alabaster? (Koejin’s player: That’s what I said!!)
Ticket Master: Mrph frph!
Art: (taking off the cloth again) Yeah, what’s up?
Ticket Master: Ugh, that thing’s disgusting!
Art:...Did you just want to be able to speak?
Ticket Master: Is that such a crime?
Alabaster:... Oh, yes... A new development; Ticket Master is also still around. Art’s hand has formed a mouth.
Koejin: Ugh.... really?
(It was around here that our side ran out of time and we transitioned into what was going on with the giant worm destroying the town. Also had to end early because my connection kept fucking up....)
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asks that I turned into a survey:
1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? By far more cereal
2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Nahhhh.
3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? Receipts, concert ticket stubs, metro card left over from when I went to DC forever ago. lol
4: how do you take your coffee/tea? In coffee I take oat milk and 4 Splenda (or whatever sweetener), and it REALLY depends on what kind of tea I’m drinking as to how I take it.
5: are you self-conscious of your smile? Nope. :)
6: do you keep plants? I haven’t in awhile.
7: do you name your plants? I used to have lots of plants once upon a time. Thinking about getting one here soon.
8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? MUSIC.
9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? Yea.
10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? Sides.
11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? “IT WAS A CAT”/”IT WAS A POSSUM”.
12: what’s your favorite planet? Saturn or the moon.
13: what’s something that made you smile today? I honestly cannot remember. I’ve been in so much pain. But knowing me it was probably a meme I saw somewhere on the world wide web.
14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? Uhhhh. Rustic with a lot of cats and cat toys lol
15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! I don’t feel like it.
16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? Manicotti. Or a good ole spaghetti.
17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? I’m letting it go gray 😳
18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up: Hmm good question. Probably that I would always bring up Hanson. lol IDK.
19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? Yes, and I keep personal stuff in it. No drawing.
20: what’s your favorite eye color? Brown.
21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces? I have quite a few Vera Bradley purses and they’ve been all over with me; concerts, states, countries. You name it, they’ve been there.
22: are you a morning person? HELL NO.
23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? Veg and read or watch Netflix shows.
24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? Yes.
25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? Probably my own house. lol I accidentally forgot my key once, so my boyfriend at the time figured out how to get us through one of the windows. Needless to say my mom was NOT happy!
26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? TOMS. Or Sperry’s. But usually TOMS. lol
27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? Spearmint.
28: sunrise or sunset? Sunset. Though I am usually up for the sunrise.
29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? They reach out to me, even when I’ve gone practically radio silent.
30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? Yes.
31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks: NOT a fan of socks. lol
32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. We went got our feet wet in Lake Michigan. It was February. We also went to an old Boy Scouts camp (I think) that was supposedly haunted. It certainly looked like it. And one of the guys we were with kept on making the “ch ch ch” noise like in the Friday the 13th movies. lol
33: what’s your fave pastry? DONUTS.
34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? It was a dog. Named Taylor. and I named him Taylor because he didn’t have a tail. Somehow no tail = TAYLor. lol
35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? I love pens.
36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? Probably Phoebe Bridgers.
37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? It’s an organized mess. :p
38: tell us about your pet peeves! Hmmm. Hearing people chew or swallow food and beverages. But that’s not so much a pet peeve as what it is misophonia or something along those lines.
39: what color do you wear the most? These days it’s pink, purple and blues. And black. lol But apparently that’s an abesence of color.
40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? After my dad and my stepmom got divorced, she had the diamonds out of my dad’s wedding band put into rings for my sister and myself. It has a curved design to it to “remind us” of our curves in life. Also a pendant my paternal grandmother had made for all of the granddaughters with the diamond from my great-grandma’s (her mom) watch. The boys in my family got tiepins or cufflinks, I think (?). Oh and my Tiffany ring and necklace.
41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? Where The Crawdad’s Sing by Delia Owens
42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? Probably Mugshots (yes, it’s really called that, and it’s owned by a cops wife). One of my besties works there and it’s cute and quaint.
43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? Hmm. Let’s not go there.
44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? Good question. It’s definitely been awhile.
45: do you trust your instincts a lot? No. Fuckin’ anxiety.
46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.
Ummmm, I am having a difficult time thinking of one.
47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? That’s a tough call because I love food. lol But I’m going to go with green peppers. :D Don’t come for me. lol
48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? My biggest fear as a kid was probably gremlins. I can honestly say that is not the case today. But the movie(s) still creeps me the fuck out. lol
49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? The last one I bought was Madonna’s Ray of Light on vinyl.
50: what’s an odd thing you collect? Hmmm. Odd? Makeup? Vinyl? Those aren’t really odd. lol OH! I know. After I use up a 3 wick Bath & Body Works candle, I depot them. And I have accumulated a SHIT TON over the last few years. My sister keeps telling me she’s going to take them but never does. Ope!
51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? This could go many ways. But I cannot listen to “I Turn To You” by Christina Aguilera because of a relationship I had once upon a time. Not because I am pining for that person again. Because it’s chocked full of memories, not good ones either.
52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? Uhhhhhhh, I like a LOT of them. Probably any that are self-depricating.
53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? Yes. No. Yes. Yes. Love Rocky. Want to see Heathers but never get around to doing so. Beetlejuice is a frigging classic. And I don’t like Tarantino movies.
54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? My mom as Hatter was being put down. :’(
55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? I cannot recall ever doing this.
56: what are some things you find endearing in people? When they treat people with kindness and expect nothing in return.
57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? Oh I don’t have to listen to it to know how it makes me feel. It’s a perfect song and a GENUINE rhapsody. When I first heard it when I was very young, as my dad loves Queen. And I know the song word-for-word and try to sing ALL the parts. lol
58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? Uh, none?
59: what’s your favorite myth? Probably Mothman. Or Sasquatch.
60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? I love poetry. I love e.e. cummings.
61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? No gift is stupid.
62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? I love passionfruit juice or orange juice.
63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? Not about my books, but my music (mainly CDs) are organized by what/who I love the most/get most plays.
64: what color is the sky where you are right now? Black.
65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? YES.
66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? Daisies.
67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? Cozy.
68: what’s winter like where you live? HOT.
69: what are your favorite board games? An old board game my mom had as a kid and held onto called Which Witch.
70: have you ever used a ouija board? Fuuuuuck no. Well, No. But I once was at someones house as a child, and they had one out. I moved the planchette, not knowing what it was. Then left the room. I kind of hid outside the room and the kid’s went back in there and were like, “OMG IT MOVED”. lol But yeah, I don’t fuck with that stuff.
71: what’s your favorite kind of tea? Oolong or roiboos
72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? YEP.
73: what are some of your worst habits? Picking at my scalp.
74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. They are good people.
75: tell us about your pets! She crossed the rainbow bridge a little over a month ago.
76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? Yeah, sleeping.
77: pink or yellow lemonade? Pink.
78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? What the hell is that? Like those little tictac looking thingies from Despicable Me? I think they’re cute but I wouldn’t call myself a fan. lol
79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? Been there for me.
80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? Off-white. And I didn’t.
81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. Uhhh round, white, brown and black.
82: What were you like in school? I was not attentive at all. I only excelled in subjects that interested me.
83: what’s some of your favorite album art? Music.
84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? I’m not telling!
85: do you read comics? what are your faves? Nay.
86: do you like concept albums? which ones? Is folklore considered one? If so, then that!
87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? Big Fish
88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? So MANY.
89: are you close to your parents? Mostly.
90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. Shit tons of hills, beautiful ocean, grottos.
91: where do you plan on traveling this year? HA. That’s funny.
92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? Drowns. lol
93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? Messy bun.
94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? Someone on Facebook.
95: what are your plans for this weekend? Weekend’s over, my person.
96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? Generally keep up with them real fast.
97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? Myer-Briggs type
98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? HAHHAHHHAHA
99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. There are tons, but Peter Gabriel’s song, “In Your Eyes” is my faaaavorite song of all time.
100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? Event though it would age me 5 years, 5 yers into the future.
Inspired by “She” by dodie. Oh, poor oblivious Cathy. 💙 Things must get worse before they get better unfortunately. Despite that, I hope you all enjoy this part!
Word Count: 4466
Trigger Warnings: anxiety attack, self-deprecating thoughts
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
A quiet knock at her door broke Cathy out of her reading. She let out a sigh and put her book down. Cathy hated it when she had to stop abruptly in the middle of a chapter.
“Who is it?” Cathy called out as she slid off her bed and walked to the door.
“It’s Anne. Dinner’s ready! Jane made chicken nuggets!” Anne’s excited voice made Cathy hesitate. Her hand stopped on the doorknob and she took a deep breath before forcing a fake smile onto her face.
Cathy slowly opened the door and was met with the sight of Anne who immediately smiled brightly at her. Cathy felt her heart flutter in her chest at the sight as her own fake smile turned into a small genuine one. Cathy’s smile dropped however when she remembered that Anne was pining after someone else.
“Okay. I’ll be right down,” Cathy responded as her gaze fell to the floor. Anne gave her a confused look before clearing her throat.
“Yeah! Okay,” Anne rambled nervously. “I’ll see you downstairs then.” Anne hesitated for a moment before making her way back down to the kitchen.
Cathy watched Anne walk away before turning back into her room with groan. Cathy didn’t mean to act weird around Anne but it was impossible to see her and not think of how desperately Cathy wanted her. And how unattainable she was.
Cathy quickly crossed the room to her bed and grabbed her book. She slipped one of her stray bookmarks into the pages and closed it before placing it on her nightstand.
“Don’t be weird, Cathy,” she whispered to herself as she left her room and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. “Please, don’t be weird.”
Cathy entered the kitchen and sat down in her seat as quietly as possible, hoping not to draw attention to herself. She picked up her fork and poked at the chicken nuggets on her plate, not really in the mood to eat but not wanting to raise suspicion if she didn’t. She slowly began eating as she listened to the other queens’ conversation.
“Hey Kitty, can you pass the mustard?” Cleves asked, gesturing to the yellow bottle by her side.
“That’s disgusting,” Kitty commented as she passed Cleves the requested item. “I hate mustard.”
“Oh really?” Cleves asked, giving Kitty a mischievous smile. Before Kitty could reply, Cleves uncapped the mustard bottle and squirted an unnecessary amount of the yellow liquid in the middle of Kitty’s plate, dangerously close to the rest of her nuggets.
“NO!! ANNA! WHY??” Kitty complained and gave a disgusted look at her plate. “Now I can’t finish my food!”
“That’s for trying to steal the maple syrup from me this morning,” Cleves replied with a satisfied smile. “And you’ll be fine, Kitty! I didn’t get it on your food, which I definitely could have done. You’re welcome for that.”
“Stop bullying my cousin, Cleves,” Anne spoke up. “Unless you wanna catch these hands!” Anne squared up from her place across from Cleves before doubling over in pain. “Ow! That’s not fair! You kicked me!”
Aragon chuckled. “I think that’s pretty fair game, Anne. You asked if Cleves wanted to fight and she retaliated appropriately.”
“Wow, Catherine! I am so hurt,” Anne exclaimed dramatically, bringing her hand to her chest in a demonstration of faux pain. “At least Cathy’s on my side. Right, Cathy?”
Anne turned to look at Cathy who was now frozen with panic at the mention of her name. Cathy looked up from her plate and mumbled out a few words. “Uhm, yeah. Sure.”
Cathy looked down at her plate once more, missing the concerned looks the queens exchanged at her sudden change in demeanor.
Jane spoke up to break the uncomfortable silence that was growing. “I know what we should do! After dinner, we should have a movie night!”
The other queens expressed approval, except for Cathy. “You all can go ahead. I’ll join you another time,” Cathy responded, not too keen on spending the rest of her night in any other way than sulking in her room while reading.
“C’mon, Cathy! Join us!” Cleves pleaded before an idea struck her. “We can put on one of those crime documentaries you like so much.”
Though the thought was appealing, Cathy shook her head. “Maybe another time.”
“Or we can have a game night! Though I refuse to play Mafia again. We all get way too aggressive during that,” Aragon chimed in, hoping that Cathy would agree to her request.
“Yeah! We can play Scrabble!” Anne piped up excitedly before bumping shoulders with Cathy. “You love Scrabble!”
Cathy smiled weakly but still refused. “I think I’ll pass. But you all can do something without me. It’s fine, really.”
“No it’s not! It won’t be the same without you, Cathy!” Anne blurted out before turning beet red at her outburst.
Cathy opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by Kitty’s voice. “A sleepover! Let’s have a sleepover!” Cathy looked over to Kitty and was met with her pleading eyes. “Please, Cathy?”
Cathy sighed quietly. She already felt guilty for denying the other queens’ offers so Kitty’s final plea was enough for her to finally acquiesce. “Alright. Fine. I just want to finish the chapter I was reading in my book before I join. I stopped halfway through it before coming down for dinner.”
The queens let out a collective sigh of relief at Cathy’s response. “No problem, love,” Jane commented and smiled gently at Cathy.
“Yay! I’m going to bring my fluffy blanket from my room,” Kitty exclaimed excitedly, moving her chair back in an attempt to retrieve said item.
“Not so fast, Kitty! You still have to finish your dinner,” Aragon said.
“But there’s mustard on it!” Kitty complained, slowly scooting back to the table.
The rest of the queens’ dinner was quiet as they quickly finished their food in anticipation for their impromptu sleepover. Cathy, however, was slowly growing to dread what was to come. She knew that her friends were just trying to cheer her up but she would have much preferred to be alone in her room with her thoughts instead.
So, instead of reading the rest of her chapter like she said she would, Cathy spent those minutes in her bedroom in complete panic mode. Could she somehow find a way to get out of this? Would they let her escape if she just said she was sick? Why did Anne smile at her like that when she opened the door? Didn’t she have feelings for someone else? Was Cathy being selfish for enjoying her attention while it lasted?
Of course, her thoughts always led back to Anne Boleyn and her beautiful smile. Cathy shook the thought out of her head as she quickly changed into her pajamas. She would have to join the other queens downstairs soon or they would start to worry about her again.
Cathy moved in front of her mirror and took a deep breath. It was just a sleepover, with her friends. There was nothing to be anxious about. Cathy breathed out slowly and felt much more calm. The queens cared about her; that’s why they were having a sleepover in the first place.
With that thought in her mind, Cathy left her bedroom and made her way down the stairs. As she entered the living room, she saw the queens sitting on the floor and laughing as Cleves told them one of her stories.
“- and that’s how I catfished a supermodel,” Cleves finished as the queens erupted into laughter. As Cathy got closer, she noticed that Jane had tears streaming down her face and was wheeze-laughing at the story.
“What’s so funny?” Cathy spoke up with a small smile. The queens turned to look at her with bright smiles.
“You made it!” Kitty piped up with a squeal from where she was snuggled up in her neon pink fluffy blanket.
Anne scooted to her right to make enough space for Cathy to sit next to her. Cathy noticed and slowly made her way to sit beside Anne. After she had made herself comfortable, Anne turned to Cathy and filled her in on the story she had missed. “So, apparently Cleves likes to catfish people on Tinder. She even got the attention of some supermodel and she broke their heart. Which is kind of mean but it’s super funny when she reads the text messages out loud.”
“In my defense, I ghost them after I get bored,” Cleves said with a laugh.
“That’s worse, Anna!” Kitty yelped and lightly smacked Cleves on the arm.
“Weirdly enough, those text messages remind me of this guy who unsuccessfully tried to win my heart,” Aragon commented.
“What?!” Cathy exclaimed. “What happened?”
“Yes! Tell us what happened, Catherine!” Anne chimed in.
“So, I was minding my business and reading the Bible in a park like I usually do on Sundays,” Aragon began. “I was sitting on a bench when this guy suddenly sat down next to me and handed me a letter. I reluctantly took it and began to read it. The words sounded really familiar until I realized that he had just written down chapter 4 of Song of Solomon. At the end of the letter, he had written his number with a little heart. As if I would call him after he plagiarized the Bible in an attempt to woo me. Needless to say, I stopped going to that park after that.”
By time Aragon finished her story, all of the queens were laughing together. Cathy realized how nice it was to have a good laugh with her friends. This was a much better way to spend her night than sulking in her room about her own misfortune.
“For the record, I totally would have called him,” Anne jested earning more laughter from the queens. “Do you still have the letter?”
“Sadly, I threw it away. Otherwise, I would give you his number so you could call him,” Aragon said. “Maybe you two would hit it off.”
“I doubt it. I have my eyes on someone else anyway,” Anne responded, sneaking a quick glance at Cathy that went completely unnoticed by her. The other queens all shared knowing looks while Cathy’s gaze dropped to the floor in disappointment. Cathy’s heart sank when she heard those words come out of Anne’s mouth. She didn’t want to be reminded of Anne’s feelings for the mystery girl, especially not when she was finally beginning to feel better after what had happened earlier.
Cathy was grateful when the other queens began telling more stories. Slowly, Cathy felt the sinking feeling in her chest change into an elated bubble of joy. She laughed so much at their ridiculous anecdotes, growing even more grateful for her friends. The queens had noticed how upset she was and decided to cheer her up in whatever way they could. It meant a lot to Cathy knowing that she had such amazing people in her life that she could always depend on.
Cathy looked around at each of the queens before her eyes landed on Anne Boleyn. She was slightly caught off guard when she noticed that Anne was already looking at her. When their eyes met, Anne tilted her head slightly to the side and smiled at Cathy. In turn, Cathy smiled back and stared into those gorgeous emerald orbs, letting herself get lost in their depths.
Anne might have her eyes on someone else but right now she’s looking at me, Cathy thought to herself. And that’s all that matters.
“Ooh! Let’s play truth or dare!” Kitty exclaimed, breaking Anne and Cathy out of their moment. The queens agreed and started the game. They all had a great time watching each other answer embarrassing questions and completing funny dares.
After Cleves had successfully completed Jane’s dare of prank calling one of their neighbors, she turned to Cathy with a smirk on her face that made Cathy nervous.
“Cathy, truth or dare?” Cleves asked.
“Truth,” Cathy answered simply, knowing better than to ask for a dare from Cleves.
Cleves smirked even wider as she began her question. “What do you write about in your journal?”
Cathy’s face paled at the question, knowing she couldn’t give an honest answer without professing her feelings for Anne. “I’m chickening out,” Cathy said with an embarrassed smile on her face.
“Laaaaame,” Cleves taunted.
“Oh, c’mon Cathy! It can’t be that bad!” Kitty added on. “Tell us!”
“No, absolutely not. There’s a reason it’s a private journal and not a public journal,” Cathy responded. “I’m officially chickening out of that truth.”
“Wow, I’m so disappointed,” Anne said, faking disapproval. “As someone who has never chickened out, it breaks my heart to see you turn to the dark side, Cathy.”
“Oh hush,” Cathy responded and playfully nudged Anne’s shoulder with her own. “It’s my turn then.” Cathy looked around to see who she should ask next. A brief thought of asking Anne who she had feelings for crossed her mind before she quickly dismissed it. Cathy didn’t know if she wanted to know the answer. She would rather just pretend that nothing was going on and everything was fine, just for tonight.
Instead, Cathy turned her eyes to Kitty. “Okay, Kitty. Truth or dare?”
Kitty’s eyes lit up as she responded. “Dare!”
Cathy thought for a moment before she came up with the perfect dare for the younger girl. “I dare you to eat a whole tablespoon of mustard.” A wicked grin stretched across Cathy’s face when she saw Kitty nearly burst into tears at the dare.
“NO! Cathy please!! Anything but mustard!” Kitty cried out.
“Rules are rules, Kitty,” Aragon commented.
“Unless you wanna chicken out,” Jane chimed in.
Kitty hesitated, carefully pondering her options. Cleves began making chicken sounds as Kitty delayed her response.
“Kitty, don’t chicken out on me! I can’t lose you too!” Anne joked. Kitty gave her cousin a desperate look which Anne responded to by beginning to chant, “Do it! Do it! Do it!”
The queens joined in until five voices were chanting for Kitty to complete the dare. Finally, Kitty caved and said, “Okay! Fine! I’ll eat the stupid mustard!”
The queens followed Kitty into the kitchen and watched her as she squeezed the mustard into a spoon. A look of utter disgust passed over Kitty’s face as she brought the spoon to her lips. Slowly, the queens watched as she quickly put the spoon in her mouth and swallowed. Kitty gagged at the taste but gratefully took the glass of water that Anne was handing to her.
The queens cheered as Kitty downed the glass of water in a vain attempt to get the taste of mustard off her tongue. Kitty grimaced and placed the spoon and cup in the sink. Kitty looked at Cathy and shook her head. “I hope you’re happy. That was the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
Cathy giggled. “I’m sorry, Kitty!”
“Don’t apologize. I know you don’t mean it,” Kitty muttered as the queens made their way back to their spots in the living room.
“It’s my turn now,” Kitty said and looked around at all the queens before her eyes landed on Anne. Cathy noticed the two cousins share a glance which caused a petrified look to pass over Anne’s face. Anne shook her head slightly but Kitty had already made up her mind. “Anne, truth or dare?”
Anne hesitated for a moment before responding. “Dare.”
Kitty glared at Anne momentarily before a satisfied smile passed over her face. “I dare you to kiss Cathy.”
Cathy’s mouth dropped in shock, mirroring the girl next to her. Had she heard that right? Did Kitty really just say that? Cathy was left at a loss for words. A storm of emotions and thoughts swirled in her mind about what Kitty had just said.
Cleves whooped loudly at Kitty’s dare and pointed to Anne, who was shifting uncomfortably in her spot. “You’re not going to chicken out of this, or are you Anne?” Cleves taunted.
Much to Cathy’s surprise, Anne said nothing. She didn’t jump to defend her honor of never chickening out how she usually did. Cathy looked at her and saw Anne turn to her with soft eyes and a shy smile.
“We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to,” Anne whispered to Cathy, before dropping her gaze to the floor. “I can chicken out if you want.”
“Anne Boleyn! You never chicken out!” Cathy responded incredulously as Anne looked up to meet her eyes once more. “I won’t get in the way of that. I mean, it’s just a kiss.”
Just a kiss I dream about every night, Cathy thought to herself. She subconsciously bit her lip. Cathy was secretly looking forward to the kiss. She had wanted to kiss Anne for so long now that it almost didn’t feel real that it was actually about to happen.
“Yeah, just a kiss,” Anne said as she dropped her gaze momentarily from Cathy. A sad look passed over Anne’s face, though Cathy didn’t understand why. Anne looked back up with a tender look on her face that sent butterflies stirring in Cathy’s stomach.
Anne brought her hand up to cup Cathy’s cheek gently, slowly caressing her cheekbone with her thumb. Cathy’s breath caught in her throat and she was suddenly hyper aware of everything around her. The feeling of Anne’s hand on her cheek, the soft look in those emerald green eyes, and the small smile on Anne’s face brought back all the love that Cathy had for the girl in front of her. The girl she was finally about to kiss.
Cathy’s gaze dropped to Anne’s lips, desperate to finally have them on her own. Cathy watched as Anne’s smile morphed until her mouth was slightly parted. She watched Anne quickly lick her lips nervously before feeling Anne pull her in slowly.
Anne leaned forward and connected their lips in a gentle, feathersoft kiss. Cathy felt her insides melt at the touch as the stirring of butterflies intensified. A million thoughts were running through her mind until it suddenly blanked when she felt Anne slowly begin to move her lips. Cathy reciprocated at the same pace, bringing her hand up to Anne’s cheek to feel more contact with the girl she loved.
They quickened their pace gradually, matching each other’s movements perfectly. Anne pulled Cathy closer to her, slowly tracing her bottom lip with her tongue. Cathy had to stifle a moan at the feeling which sent Cathy’s mind into overdrive. Cathy abruptly pulled away from Anne as very loud alarms blared in her mind, signalling that something was very wrong.
Cathy’s mind was swirling with an endless hurricane of thoughts, threatening to drown her in their whirlpool. She suddenly felt out of control of herself and frantically looked around the room for a way out.
“Cathy, what’s wrong?” Anne’s concerned voice brought Cathy back to reality for a moment.
“No- nothing,” Cathy stammered, unable to look Anne in the eye. “I’m actually feeling pretty tired so I think I’m going to head to bed early.” Cathy quickly got up from her spot, not meeting any of the worried looks of the queens.
“Cathy, wait!” Anne exclaimed desperately, scrambling to her feet as well.
“Goodnight,” Cathy said quickly before rushing out of the room, leaving behind a very confused Anne with a brokenhearted expression on her face.
Cathy ran up the stairs and into her room, shutting the door quickly before any of the queens decided to follow her. She collapsed against it as she began hyperventilating. What had she done? Why had Cathy agreed to that stupid dare? Now, she was worse off than she had ever been before.
Now, she not only had to deal with Anne’s feelings for someone else but also the fact that they had shared a kiss that meant nothing to Anne. But, it meant everything Cathy. The kiss had been magical, everything she had been dreaming about and more. But it still plagued Cathy to know that Anne felt nothing when she kissed her. To Anne, it was some silly dare that she had only done to keep her pride intact.
That thought mocked Cathy. Anne probably felt guilty about kissing someone else while she was still pining after her mystery girl. The girl Anne actually cared about. The girl Cathy craved to be. All she wanted was for Anne to love her in return. Was that too much to ask?
Cathy huffed and tried to control her breathing. She took slow breaths until the feeling that she was suffocating subsided. She pushed away from her door and crossed the room to her desk, pulling out her journal in a rush. She quickly turned on her desk lamp and flipped to a free page before choking back a sob when she saw her bookmark. Those pictures mocked her, making her feel even more foolish for ever hoping that Anne would kiss her. Now that she had, it had only made everything worse.
Cathy threw the bookmark on the floor angrily and grabbed her pen. Cathy wiped at the tears she hadn’t even realized were streaming down her face. She had to get her feelings out before they consumed her. She had to write it out before she drowned in her own sorrows.
Love is an ocean of torment and pain, black waters that rise and rage against all who dare to swim in its shallows. One moment I was wading in a crystal bay and enjoying the gentle waves crashing against my skin and in the next I was thrashing to get to the surface as vicious currents pulled me deeper, drowning me in my own despair. I understand why Aphrodite was born from the foam of such a volatile entity. Love changes like the tides of the sea, rising and falling in accordance to the hope that foolish lovers cling to as if for dear life.
I was foolish enough to hope for love. I bartered my heart for a kiss, only to find that lipstick marks are a mockery of what I wanted. I didn’t want a kiss. I wanted Anne Boleyn! I wanted all of her, every single part of her. I wanted her lips, I wanted her eyes, I wanted her smile, I wanted her affection, I wanted her desire. I wanted her to feel what I felt when she kissed me.
When her lips touched mine, I felt my heart come alive in my chest. It was as if it had been dormant my whole life and was suddenly awakened by Anne’s gentle touch. I saw the birth of the sun, a brilliant light that drowns out all darkness in the galaxy. I smelled fields of lemongrass and groves filled with vanilla flowers and overgrown honeysuckle bushes, the scent I always imagine breathing in right before I fall asleep. I heard the sound of windchimes softly ringing out a lullaby and the quiet whispers of the wind, telling me all the secrets of the earth as they billowed past my ear. And I finally tasted Anne on my lips. She tasted of everything good I could ever describe and more. She tasted like the first bite of my chocolate birthday cake from last year but better. She tasted like the warm coffee I drink to keep me awake while I read but stronger. She tasted like the candy we ate together after trick-or-treating last Halloween but sweeter.
But Anne felt none of that. She didn’t see, smell, or hear what I did. She didn’t taste anything when she kissed me. My heart is cleaved in two when I think of how differently we experienced that kiss. We were the closest we had ever been when we kissed yet I have never felt more far away from Anne. While I was thinking about my endless love for her, Anne was concerned with her own pride. While my mind was reeling with the magic of Anne’s lips on mine, her mind was completely blank.
I lament ever pleading for her kiss! It has brought me so much despair because now I realize that everything I want and everything I am will never be enough for Anne. My most precious memories are nothing but passing thoughts to her. The moments that keep me awake at night, those same moments I journal about, are forgotten by Anne when she wakes up the next morning. I am overrun by my feelings for her, feelings that she has no need or desire for.
I can’t go on like this! I simply won’t. From now on, I will keep my feelings locked away in my heart and out of sight from prying eyes. I will consign my feelings to admiring Anne from a distance. I will harbor my love in a prison, not free to run rampant as I let it for so long. I will keep my distance so I can have a chance to heal my broken heart. Maybe then I can be the friend Anne deserves, the friend she needs me to be. At least I can find my peace in that role, even if I can’t have what I truly desire. But, I’m willing to make these sacrifices because Anne… my beloved Anne… means everything to me.
Cathy scribbled her name out at the bottom of the page and stopped writing as her tears returned with a vengeance. She put her pen down and rested her face in her hands as she quietly sobbed into them. Cathy stayed like that for a few minutes until a wave of exhaustion washed over her. She reached for the tissue box that she had gotten from Jane and hastily wiped the tears from her face.
Cathy sighed heavily before taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. She slowly turned in her chair to find where her bookmark had landed. Cathy found it by her foot and sighed gratefully that it was face down. She picked it up and placed it back in her journal, keeping it face down the entire time. Cathy closed the journal and returned it to its place in her desk drawer. She reached over to her lamp and flipped the switch, plunging her back into darkness.
Cathy closed her eyes tiredly for a moment before lumbering her way to her bed. She crawled under her covers and tried to fall asleep, though her memories of the day kept her awake as they replayed in her head. Eventually, Cathy drifted into a restless sleep, plagued with nightmares of those green eyes and that devilish smirk.
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Tiny Homes Relationship Advice - 8 Couples Who Live in Tiny Homes
I’m basically obsessed with minimalist living. Sure, I don’t live that way at all, but I do spend a good amount of my free time scrolling through RV Instagram accounts, bookmarking inspo for my future van, and wanderlusting over which national parks I wanna visit with my future partner during our tiny-home travels. (I’m single AF, but a girl can dream, mmkay?)
Social media has a funny way of making things seem ~easy breezy~, though, by highlighting all the good stuff and hiding all the hardships. This got me thinking: How do couples make it work in very tiny homes? Do they get sick of each other? Where do they storm off to when they fight? And what do they do when they need to, y’know, go to the bathroom?
So I interviewed eight couples who are currently living the #TinyLife to get to the truth behind their dreamy Instagram updates. Behold: the best, worst, juiciest, and crappiest parts (no, seriously...some of these stories involve pee and poop buckets).
1. Whitney and Adam (aka @WhitneyLeighMorris)
A post shared by The Tiny Canal Cottage® (@whitneyleighmorris) on May 17, 2019 at 7:51pm PDT
“Tiny living can work well for so many people as long as you don’t have too much stuff. The stress of trying to puzzle a life’s worth of belongings into compact quarters can be maddening, especially as a couple or family. But I’m being completely honest when I say we don’t argue much—perhaps that’s one of the reasons this space works so well for us as business and personal partners. We believe this tiny house, adopting a more minimalist lifestyle, and cutting back on fervent consumption helped make our relationship quite strong. Plus it’s better for our withering planet.”
2. Alexandra and Charlie (aka @AGirlAndHerVan)
A post shared by A Girl & Her Van (@agirlandhervan) on Jul 29, 2019 at 2:55am PDT
“Charlie and I met while we were both on road trips, so living with less and really connecting with the land is something we both value. We love finding a beautiful place and staying there.
But living in such a confined space is a lot harder than people think. Arguing is really hard in a van, especially when it’s simultaneously your escape vehicle and home. We have to sit there and figure it out because we’re all we have. When we first got together, we were so enamored with one another that not showering a ton and his dirty feet in bed didn’t bother me. As the fog of first attraction starts to lift, those little things start to irritate you more. It’s in those moments that you have to communicate and let someone know what you want.”
3. Francesca and Nicholas (aka @HappyHomebodies)
A post shared by BusLife | Francesca & Nicholas (@happyhomebodies) on Dec 12, 2019 at 3:01pm PST
“Having sex in the bus isn’t much different than having sex in an apartment, TBH. If you have close neighbors, there’s a chance they’ll hear you. The only big difference is that the bus can shake. We make jokes to our friends: ‘If the bus is rocking, don’t come knocking.’”
4. Meag and Ben (aka @WildDriveLife)
A post shared by Meag + Ben | Wild Drive Life (@wilddrivelife) on Jan 29, 2019 at 11:53am PST
“We entered this experience knowing it probably wouldn’t be a perfect ride. Two things really helped us maintain balance and presence, which translated to a better connection in the bedroom: weeks—and sometimes months—without watching TV and rarely drinking alcohol. There are also some not-so-pretty moments of living tiny, like going days without a real shower and having to empty our pee jug every day or two. We chose to roll with it rather than fight to maintain some sense of sexy mystery.”
5. Tyler and Lexi (aka @OneWildRideBus)
A post shared by One Wild Ride (@onewildridebus) on Apr 29, 2019 at 2:57pm PDT
“We lived, worked, and spent most of our time together before we committed to the tiny lifestyle, so we were pretty confident we’d make it work. Our previous places weren’t much bigger than our bus, so the size adjustment was easy. But when you kick off your shoes and throw your jacket on the couch, all of a sudden, your whole house is dirty (and if the other person is constantly cleaning up after you, it’ll get tense fast). We’ve woken up on beaches, in the mountains, and in all sorts of exciting, new places. We’ve also seen our fair share of Walmart parking lots, rest areas, and truck stops to go along with it.”
6. Mark and Madie (aka @SaltyTheBus)
A post shared by Madie, Mark & Salty🌴Australia (@saltythebus) on Aug 21, 2019 at 1:38am PDT
“We completely love our lifestyle! You can stay at a place for as long or short as you want because moving on is easy when everything you own is with you. We now see extra clothing and appliances as luxuries that we definitely no longer need. We’re pretty lucky to have such a large space in our bus compared to other vehicles on the road, but it can still get cramped while cooking or getting changed, with the occasional accidental elbow from your partner or knee to the wall. Small things can get you down, like really hot weather with no A/C or a million flies outside, but the good outweighs the bad ten times over.”
7. Ashley and Tymer (aka )
A post shared by Tymer Tilton and Ashley Taylor (@vansteading) on Jul 6, 2019 at 6:52am PDT
“The biggest transition for us was setting up our work lives to enable life on the road. When Ashley quit her full-time job, we discovered we could pay our apartment rent by people using our home for photo, film, and video shoots. Because we have that income, we can be flexible living part-time on the road and part-time in NYC. We’re self-employed, so our work comes with us on the road or we go to it, but we learned that creating boundaries for work and play are necessary to feel balanced in this lifestyle. Oh, and there are no neighbors or roommates to worry about when we have sex.”
8. Alexa and Kyle (aka )
A post shared by Alexa, Kyle, & Trippy Cat (@endlesslyroaming) on Nov 27, 2019 at 9:13am PST
“Sex on the road has been great! There are definitely some nights when we’re parked at a Walmart, between shopping carts and around a bunch of people, which makes it hard to set the mood. But there are other nights we find ourselves alone, under the stars and next to a small river, so we get the red wine out and get a fire going, figuratively and literally. Some tasks that come along with this lifestyle aren’t always so glamorous and fun—like emptying the pee bucket. Splitting these tasks helps so it doesn’t feel like one person is always responsible for them. We really only get frustrated when we’re hangry or low on coffee or if something’s wrong with the bus (because that sucks).”
Morgan is a freelance sex and wellness writer who lives in New York and loves to travel.
This content was originally published here.