#the weirdest thing is i just pulled up the random word generator for prompts and then after i looked at them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

augment-techs · 3 years

Note

I DON'T KNOW HOW THE WRITING PROMPT MEME WORKS REALLY

but it's WAYYYY too CUTE to not do. Sooooo how about I toss ya some numbers! ^^

Hand holding: 12 and 10! 33,

Hugs: 2, 18, 27

Hope it isn't too much!!! ^^

Kim was emotionally fluctuating between feeling sorry for Tommy, and trying not to go into shock whenever she walked into a room and found her older, alternate universe, badass-self kissing an older, Coinless General Bulk. Watching them seemed more perfect than she might have dared hope for whatever fate was allotted to the Ranger Slayer. When they'd first dropped into their Command Center and explanations had been given, Alpha had allowed Bulk to lead his Kimberly to the medical bay, and Kim had followed after them in case they got lost. Bulk was incredibly good with the damaged woman that could probably beat him into the ground at any moment. Kimberly hadn't even huffed when he'd offered her a piggy-back ride and then insisted on bandaging up her hand that'd been cut open when she'd gone after Tommy and he'd had to defend himself with Saba. He'd sterilized the wound, wrapped it tight but not without sympathy and hadn't bothered untangling their fingers or letting go when they'd wandered back into the room Zordon occupied so they could all talk and argue and occupy themselves with searching the data banks for ways out and locating their other friends for hours. The kissing was on the extreme end of their affections, though. In the days that followed, Kim didn't see them lock lips as often, as they usually found themselves training or cooking or reading with just one hand, as the other one was invariably found more often holding onto the other; like two magnets that would always find themselves connected if given enough time. It was, admittedly, adorable as anything she could have imagined, but still a surprise she couldn't help but balk at. Tommy underwent the same amount of shock with the random displays of affection that he often stumbled into with Kim, but he had more pressing issues: when he left to walk into a room with one of the Coinless universe alters, he always had to keep his movements to a minimum, hands far away from his pockets, and eyes to the ground. With the older Trini, Zack, and Bulk, it wasn't so bad; with the Omega Rangers out in space and their history with this smaller Tommy helping them before Drakkon shattered the Morphin Grid, they were more willing to acknowledge that the evil despot and the teen weren't the same. With those Coinless who had never been Rangers--Rocky and Aisha in leather and combat armor with battle scars, had looked very shocked when they'd met their younger selves in Ranger gear, Adam being given the oddest looks from the elders--it was much harder, because they hadn't even spoken to Tommy. And they'd all been dumped through a hole in space and time that the Eltarians and Zedd had caused when Zelya had gotten away from the moon, so everyone was still reeling--especially with them being separated into three groups around Angel Grove. Perhaps they'd make up their minds when the stragglers from Drakkon's universe arrived at the Command Center... * * "He's very strong, and very sure, but he's no Drakkon." "No offense, Skull, but how--" "Could I know that?" The spy--spy, spy, actual double agent who had to relay messages and blend into the background and not die a horrible painful death at the slightest misstep, how the fucking hell--smiled with benevolent pragmatism. Rocky nodded, mouth tightening into a line as Aisha stood her own ground in their questioning. They would have loved not to have come to such an awkward position with having to use Skull to calm down their worries, put them to bed, and smother them to death, but they couldn't find solace and reassurance in Zack and Trini's words and it didn't seem fair to keep putting the kids in defense positions just because they could calm the fuck down. Skull flicked his hand open and made a motion for Tommy to come closer to him, which he did with only a slight hesitation. He wasn't wearing his suit, but Skull had been the only person so far from the other dimension who hadn't looked at him and gone fully rigid, so he had a good sporting chance of not being injured here. When he was only a

step or two from walking directly into Skull, the man offered up his open palm, harmless and dangerous at the same time, and Tommy blinked, unsure and afraid, before deciding it was better to get everything that was going to happen one way or another out of the way. He lifted up his own hand and laid it flat in Skull's. There was dirt under his pointer finger and he only had a single twitch of a moment to be embarrassed before the much bigger fingers circled his wrist and wound around his knuckles, brought his hand upwards, as if he was little more than an infant fresh from a tub, or a sun warmed kitten. Tommy felt a coil behind his belly bunch up all of his nerves at once when Skull's fingers slotted between his own in a possessive kind of way that sparked familiar-unfamiliar thoughts--those all fading away when the man kept their palms together and brought his head down, breathing out like a gust of a train through a mountain pass, and inhaling at Tommy's wrist. Nose tip to his skin raising all the goosebumps Tommy thought he even had. He's pretty sure his ponytail sparked at the end when he jerked a little back. Which swiftly brought him to absolute internal humiliation that showed across his face like a goddamn Muppet. Just because he'd seen that Skull let the Coinless drink his blood right from his finger and they all ate it in bread and stuff after he'd let a tube from his arm pour into the batter of whatever he made them, didn't necessarily mean the man would bite him. ...He hoped. Then, as if that hadn't been the weirdest thing, Skull lifted his head to grin at him, but didn't let go of his hand as the man addressed Rocky, Aisha, and all the other adults--and Tommy was too confused to ask him to let go, so... there was that, "He doesn't smell like he's rotting from the inside; like he needs to be wearing five layers of Axe Body Spray. And he isn't getting all put-upon and squirrely with me holding onto him. And, if you'll humor me a moment?" He was looking at Tommy directly at the last bit, but didn't let the teen answer before he found himself being wrapped in arms that had way more muscle than Skull had any right to have in any universe holy hell--and Tommy was suddenly in a bear hug, feet off the ground and spun around twice as much as he had ever been even at five years old; three times around and around, before he was planted on the couch like a sack of flour right next to Kim (his Kim, who looked utterly stunned and far too amused). The giggle that left his mouth when he smiled at her smiling at him should not have come into existence, and if he hadn't been red before, he was practically blazing as he brought his hands up to cover his mouth. Skull's hand patted him on the head as he ducked his head as much as possible at the sounds of snickering and the other adults choking on their own reactions. He definitely felt like a kitten. "See? Totally harmless to us. Now let them take us to the Juice Bar and feed us; I'm hungry and Ernie's alive here to make me that banana-marshmallow smoothie I haven't had in over a decade." * "I...played the right politics." It would have been so fucking nice if Billy would stop asking Skull questions about the past and present the Coinless had to live through. He didn't mean to make the adults with faces he knew and worried over angry or tired, but Adam was getting very, very annoyed with how he always seemed to find the core root of things that made Skull look... All the emotion left Skull's face at that word, every single time. Politics, like a euphemism for something else entirely. (And it was.) Adam remembered, because he was there when Zack and Trini, Aisha and Bulk, Rocky and the others weren't; inside the fortress Drakkon ran and imbibed in terrorizing whenever he got especially bored. The monster loved to play games with his sentries, with his prisoners, but rarely with his staff, because it took time and effort to train up new ones. But the sentries were his favorite, because they had to prove their loyalty each and every day. Some in

little ways, some in big ways. And Drakkon remembered Skull. Zack and Trini hoped he wouldn't, and Skull, when he was giving help and clues and time that he could to them, made it seem as if he never even crossed Drakkon's mind from being a punk that wore a spiked collar back in high school to becoming one of the higher-functioning members of the red sentries. Oh, being a spy made him so good at pretending nothing was wrong, how to be cool under pressure, how to avoid danger on all sides with one way out or none at all; how to think ahead, think like his opponent, pull facts and plans out of instinct and thin air (because what other choice was there, after all). That was why he was the best; probably why, too, he was revived from death by the universe and multiverse reshaping itself with the Grid's renewal. Politics translated so well to Games in Drakkon's palace. (It was amazing how often the horrible bastard made the sentries fight or fuck each other in his presence; the threat of his being displeased getting them through most of the time, and out the door when he was finished with himself to go vomit or find a shower or smoke so many cigarettes. As far as Adam knew, Skull was one of the very rare few who were made to fight or pleasure Drakkon himself. Skull and Adam and one yellow sentry that died before Kim returned to their world. If Kim was ever made to do as they were, she didn't tell or didn't remember, and Adam was thankful for that. And thankful for Skull. When he fought other sentries, he injured with care to avoid it being permanent or knocked out the other in a show of force that Drakkon appreciated that didn't lead to brain damage but made a good show. When he was made to fuck the others, he carried necessary aids to protect them from hating themselves or leaving much of a trace behind--condoms made from animal skin by Finster-5 he bribed out of the little freak; lubricant so there wouldn't be blood or bruising; an aptitude for pleasing other people as thoroughly and as quickly as he could while being on top and leading them through it with hands calloused but still soft. When he had to use his mouth on Drakkon or submit to the tyrant--often in front of others and while being degraded with his real name being used like words from a djinn or an immortal snake--he did so efficiently and made it seem as though he wasn't being forced at all. Adam hated Drakkon more than anyone those times he had to be there and watched Skull pull his armor back on and resume his place in line among the other sentries like nothing had happened. He hadn't known him before the world came crashing down, but before he'd traded his loyalty for the hope that his family might survive--what a stupid hope that had been--he'd heard that the man had cried over Billy Cranston's gave for a week after his death and been good.) But this small, wide-eyed Billy Crantson, alive and well and looking at Skull with so much awe and respect that Adam could spot it from a mile away if he was goddamn blind, didn't need to hear that. Did not need the thought in his head like a rotting wound festering with so many white little maggots. So Adam continued sipping his coffee (pumpkin spice; which was so fucking good after years of straight, bitter instant black) and remained in his usual place beside Skull in the daytime, watching him go through the motions in this time out of joint from their own. Gladder still to be in the Juice Bar, watching the teens enjoy themselves, play at their video games, ramble on about tests they had to take in school; watch the Coinless eat their food and drink their smoothies, enjoy watching their young reflections practice gymnastics or martial arts. When Billy excused himself to talk to the Stone Canyon Trio about some notes they'd asked for from Ms. Appleby's class, eyes still sparkling with information given and listening to Skull like he would have listened to him even if he knew everything out of his mouth could have been a lie; nobody saw Adam wrap an arm around Skull's waist and squeeze

him from the side. It was just as well.

#wasn't sure who you wanted it written for since you didn't request specific names or pairings so I just kind of winged it #ask fill #prompt fill #boom! comics power rangers #shattered grid #mmpr #ggpr #eugene skull skullovitch #farkas bulk bulkmeier #kimberley hart #tommy oliver #adam park #rocky desantos #aisha campbell #billy cranston #implied/referenced dubcon #tomberly #world of the coinless #coinless Bulk x ranger slayer Kim

13 notes · View notes

tonystarkbingo · 3 years

Photo

3 Prompt Summaries

Ransom Note, Royalty and Lending a Hand - suggested by @polizwrites

@rebelmeg - what do you get when you combine elite royalty, a mob boss with a reputation for being ruthless, and a ransom note that tells them both that their child is being held hostage? well... nothing good, that's for sure, because this team-up is going to be the stuff of legends.

@deehellcat - Prince Tony is promised in marriage to King Obadiah of a neighboring realm so their lands can be merged, but marrying that creepy old man is the last thing he wants to do. he confides in his best friend and bodyguard Sir James Rhodes who pledges to lend him a hand, Rhodey pens a fake ransom note that the prince has been kidnapped then helps him sneak out of the castle in disguise.

@somesortofitalianroast - Prince Steven of Brooklyn should have known it was a bad idea when he decided to tour Philadelphia by himself. At night. By the Schuylkill. Yeah, it wasn’t his best idea. He also should have known that the Family that still [still!] ran Philadelphia would send a ransom note to his family. And he should have known that the Duchy of Brooklyn had an inside man who was happy to lend a hand.

@27dragons - Barnes doesn't generally work kidnappings -- he's a homicide detective, so if they're calling him in on a kidnapping, it's because something went terribly wrong. But when Prince Tony is kidnapped off the street in broad daylight by a crew leaving no clues whatsoever other than an encoded ransom note, Chief Fury told him to get over there and lend a hand. The problem is, the note seems to suggest that the kidnapper... is Barnes himself.

@celtic7irish - We have your prince. Four words on a ransom note with no ransom demands. James sighed. The royalty around here caused him no end of grief. He turned to his best friend and Captain of the Guard. “It’s him again. Want to lend me a hand on this one?” Steve grinned, fierce and proud. “When do we start?”

@polizwrites - When Tony disappears leaving only a couple of face cards from his favorite deck laid out on his desk, Jim thinks it’s a joke - that is until Mr. Stark gets a ransom note. And as much as he despises Tony’s dad - Jim knows he has to help.

@Magicadraconia16 - When he complained to his Captain of the Guard that he really needed a break from his princely duties - and Howard - he wasn't expecting to end up staring at a random note . . . for himself.

@rise-up-ting-ting-like-glitter - Ransom Note, Royalty, Lending a hand In sickness and in health. That was the promise. Tony hadn't meant to break it. He certainly hadn't meant to wish Bucky away. Now he's got a ransom note sent by some 'Goblin King' and ragtag troupe of labyrynth dwellers willing to lend their hands...and sometimes paws.

@jacarandabanyan - Royalty AU, Prince Anthony Stark is kidnapped! His parents are searching the realm for him, and offering high prizes to anyone who can return him to them safely. The only clue they have is a ransom note written in Tony's own handwriting, and a claim from a servant that the Prince was seen approaching a rough dubious-looking man with one arm with a request that the man 'lend him a hand' getting out of a marriage contract…

Keep reading for more!

Sunflowers, Starlight and Lollipops - suggested by @magicadraconia16

@polizwrites - Morgan was never quite sure whether her father had made up that lullaby, or if it was something that someone had sung to him as a child, but it was a tune she still hummed to herself whenever she was feeling sad or lonely.

@celtic7irish - Tony had no idea where he was, trapped on an alien planet and lost in some sort of flower field, but with no flowers he’d ever seen before. He was pretty sure those were sunflowers, but they were sparkling in the starlight, making the whole field light up like it was coated in fireflies. Checking around in his pockets, Tony sighed as he pulled out one of Morgan’s lollipops and popped it into his mouth. “Great. Let’s go find the fairies and see if they can get me back home,” he muttered, striding off across the field.

@rebelmeg - art summary - stark family lying out under the stars in a field, sunflowers bobbing over their heads, and probably holding big colorful carnival lollipops because i've got no better idea + @newnewyorker93 - that, but daytime and they're looking at clouds, one of them is definitively lollipop-shaped

@somesortofitalianroast - It was the weirdest offering Tony had ever seen on his desk. A bouquet of sunflowers, a copy of Muse’s Starlight, and a bag of Dum Dum lollipops. There wasn’t even a card to explain who it was from, or who it was too. Huh. Maybe Pepper had put the items there and forgotten about them…

@27dragons - It's late by the time Tony gets home from work -- so late it's early -- and he's exhausted beyond belief. He navigates the house by the starlight coming through the windows and hopes desperately he won't wake anyone. He just wants to sneak into bed and curl up against his spouse for whatever few hours remain of the night. But he has to stop when he gets to the living room, where a lamp has been left on, shining on a carefully-arranged bouquet of sunflowers, Tony's favorite. Stuck in between the flowers are a handful of lollipops, proving that more than one person had a hand in this. The note says, "Cleared it with Pepper, you have tomorrow off. Come to bed." Tony's family is the best. [There, managed to write it so it can be whatever ship you want.]

@jacarandabanyan - One of Tony's less-publicized hobbies is funding off-the-wall science proposals made in jest at scientific conferences. The more outrageous the project, the more willing he is to pitch in money, supplies, networking help, etc. This time, he's even agreed to do the research himself. Which is how he found himself up on the moon of an unfamiliar planet in an unfamiliar galaxy, studying botany papers and trying to find what happens when you grow sunflowers by the light of a different star than Earth's sun. As ways to avoid the press and the Board go, it's original at least. Two months into his experiment, two little girls claiming to be "daughters of Thanos" pay him a rather menacing visit. He offers them a lollipop.

@rise-up-ting-ting-like-glitter - Once a decade, under the light of the full moon, and across the three dark nights of the winter solstice, the Starlight games are hosted. Sunflower has won the last four games running, but that was before Lollipop had Bucky fighting for them. This round they're out for nectar and Bucky intends to be MVP. Of course, the prize this year was extra sweet: a kiss from Starlight prince Tony-and a chance to win his hand.

@deehellcat - the last thing Morgan remembers is her mommy screaming as the car careened off the road and crashed. she sits up and looks around but she isn't in the city anymore, instead in a grassy field. a man comes toward her, a man she recognizes, and she runs into his arms yelling DADDY. they go for a walk thru a field of tall sunflowers (he says they're his favorite) and up a hill, they lie in the grass sucking on lollipops and looking at the stars. then he kisses her & tells her to give her mommy his love, before the world around her fades and she finds herself waking up in a hospital with Pepper hovering over her.

@summerpipedream - "What's this?" The book was frayed at the edges, but had a beautiful sunflower on the cover, a lolipop sticker on the edge. "Ana's cookbook," said Jarvis. "With all your favourite recipes as a child. " Now that omega Tony is expecting, and forced into bedrest by the doctor and his worried mate Steve, Tony vows to learn how to cook, one recipe at a time.

Hallmark, magic, and brunch - @somesortofitalianroast

@somesortofitalianroast - It’s not like Tony was expecting his Sunday brunch to be something out of a Hallmark movie, but he could have done without his fairy godmother showing up and telling him that he was the sole heir to a magical kingdom and it was time for him to claim his throne.

@polizwrites - Tony knows how to conjure up exquisite dishes with the wave of a wand; but to prove he truly loves his partners, he makes them a meal from scratch. It’s not his fault he really, really likes cinnamon…

@summerpipedream - "Nat, how the hell are pancakes supposed to solve anything?" Natasha rolled her eyes and tapped on the sign behind the counter. "Pancakes solve everything." Bucky glared. "You literally just put that up." Natasha waved her wand with a flourish. "And if I did? Eat up Barnes. Your destiny is about to walk through that door." Bucky was about to complain, but then the bell to the diner rang. Tony Stark walked through the door.

@27dragons - This isn't some sappy Hallmark movie. Bucky knows that. He's not expecting some magical force to make Tony fall in love with him, really. But he's going to try, anyway. Starting with brunch.

@rebelmeg - "tony... these are the most flawless eggs i've ever seen. how did you do that?" he grinned to himself as he slid the two perfect sunny-side-up eggs onto the waiting plate. "just magic." rhodey was watching from the table, a smirk on his face. "yeah, that or the hallmark movie you watched last week that made you cry." rhodey kind figured he deserved the piece of toast that tony threw at him.

@newnewyorker93 - Unfortunately for Stephen Strange there isn't a Hallmark card that quite covers apologizing for ruining brunch with Tony when a chaotic interdimensional beastie follows him through his portal (next time he'll take the subway)

@celtic7irish - Stephen glared at the man standing next to him. “What makes you think I can just I this away?” he demanded sarcastically. Tony shrugged, trying to hide a shiver. He wasn't dressed for this weather. “I don’t know. I mean, we were just supposed to be having brunch, and now we’re in some sort of freaking Hallmark Christmas thing, and I’m pretty sure that magic caused it. Because it definitely isn’t science.” He grimaced; Tony hated admitting that things like magic even existed, but when one had the Sorcerer Supreme for a boyfriend, one learned to accept that magic was probably real. Stephen sighed, summoning a portal to the Mirror Dimension. “Well, at least our first anniversary date isn’t boring.” Tony glared.

candlelight, window, vampire - suggested by @rebelmeg

@celtic7irish - The slender figure standing in the window, his profile lit only by the flickering candlelight, turned to look at him, and James shivered. So this was Anthony, rumored vampire and lord of the castle. And James' new patron.

@somesortofitalianroast - They’d all heard the rumors: an honest-to-god Vampire had set up in a moldering castle in Transylvania and was passing himself off as Dracula. After several sets of negotiations, Steve was chosen to go and check out the rumors. He was expecting… Well, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to see the most beautiful man he’d ever seen through the window, shaving by candlelight.

@27dragons - Bucky was starting to get a handle on this whole vampire gig. He'd figured out the best ways to hide from the sun, how to hide the death-pallor of his skin with candlelight, how to mask the scent of blood on his breath with wine. What he hadn't figured out was what to do about the stunningly beautiful man who was currently climbing through his window.

@rebelmeg - it had practically been a challenge, and Tony never backed down from a challenge. The whole world at large had managed to make vampires unsexy for pepper, but danged if he wouldn’t manage it before the night was through. The candles by the window had been placed strategically, putting a soft golden glow over the two of them as they looked at their reflections in the glass.

“Okay, tip your head back on my shoulder. A little more. Just like that. Now look.” tony saw it on her face when she saw them, framed in the window, his hand resting delicately on her jaw as he lowered his mouth to her throat.

“You win,” she said around a bit of a gasp, her pupils dilating as her heartbeat skyrocketed. “You as a vampire would definitely be sexy.”

With a pleased hum, tony gave her a playful nip. Just a little one.

@summerpipedream - You have 3 new messages. Press one to playback.

"Hey Tony, it's Steve. I'm sorry to interrupt your honeymoon with Bucky, but uh- do you remember Count Dracula lookalike last month? The guy who tried to take over the city? Well he's sent some sort of wedding gift to the tower. It's uh- hanging out the window. Hold on-"

"Hey Tony. It's Steve again. Uh any chance you know where the spare candles are? That's stupid why would the tower have candles- never mind."

"NEVER MIND. IT'S BAD. WE"RE RUNNING. DON'T COME BACK TO THE TOWER-"

End of new messages

@gavilansblog - Tony stared at the candle on the windowsill. Or rather, squinted. "What were you thinking?" He demanded, slurring around his fake vampire teeth. "How is this supposed to look like a haunted house when the lights are making it bright as day in here?" Bucky winced. "How was I supposed to know they even made 1000 watt candle shaped bulbs?" (Brought to you by the conversation I was having just now with a friend whose brother made this mistake)

@Magicadraconia16 - "Leave a candle in the window," they said. A load of superstitious old nonsense, if you asked Tony. As if he's really going to leave an old-fashioned burning candle in the window where Dum-E could knock it over (although, that would give him an opportunity to use his brand new fire extinguisher...) It was just a shame that nobody mentioned that the candles weren't to scare the vampire off - they were to feed the light-vampire, and without it... well, the next nearest source in Tony's house just so happens to be his arc reactor.

@polizwrites - As a creature of the night the warm glow of the candle on the windowsill was a bittersweet reminder of the world he’d never see again. “I’m sorry, my love.” James reached out as if to snuff the flame, but Anthony stayed his hand. “No need to apologize, dear one.”

Cats, Sandwich, Chaos - suggested by @celtic7irish

@somesortofitalianroast - Very little had changed since Steve had brought Bucky in from the cold. Except the lunch meat disappeared from the fridge at a rate that not even JARVIS could explain. And that Bucky brought a cat with him. It was a small, white thing that loved Tony’s workshop and loved the bots. It caused more chaos than something that only weight five pounds should have been able to cause, and it loved his sandwiches.

@celtic7irish - Tony stared at the chaos in his living room; overturned tables, toppled lamps, and were those claw marks on his drapes? “What the-?” Tony trailed off, his voice faint, sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Daddy!” Morgan squealed, her eyes wide and face innocent as she held a squirming, wriggling bundle in her arms. A moment later, a small kitten stuck its head out of the blanket, meowing pitifully. “Can we keep her?”

@27dragons - Tony likes to think he takes a lot of weird things in stride, as an Avenger. Magic? Sure. Random visitations from a god of chaos? Old hat, these days. Insane robots and/or aliens trying to take over the city? No problem. But he had to admit, even he was having trouble maintaining his calm in the face of a trio of superheroes sitting at the kitchen table, eating sandwiches and sporting cat ears. Real ones. Oh, and tails. Yeah, he's... going back to bed.

@rebelmeg - “BUCKY!”

“What?”

“Your cat stole my sandwich again!”

Bucky watched as alpine skidded around the corner and dove under the couch, tony’s beloved 3-bacon sandwich clamped tight in his jaws.

“Yup. he sure did. Why do you keep leaving it out?”

“IT WAS IN MY HAND!”

Just another tuesday...

#tonystarkbingomarkiv #tsbmiv #tsb discord party #3 prompt summaries game

2 notes · View notes

taylorroger-s · 5 years

Text

shooting star // ben hardy x reader

a/n hooooolyyyy shit it has been a while since I've written something. this has actually been in my drafts since june, and was originally a response to an ask following me reblogging a prompt list. to the anon that requested it, sorry about that. but hey, it’s now done and personally, I think it’s pretty good. hope y’all think so too

plus, I've been in a ben mood after the 6 underground trailer so that gave me the motivation to finish

masterlist here!

enjoy :)

⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱

you really weren't in the mood to leave the house.

your friday nights were usually spent curled up in your bed, eyes glued to your old hunk of a computer, burning through cheesy rom-coms and seasons upon seasons of any mildly interesting show you could find.

but after a brief pep talk by your roommate, you had dragged yourself to a university party where drunkards snogged in dark corners and booze was in no short supply. you were settled comfortably in the corner of a well-worn sofa, nursing a cup full of what you assumed was vodka and lemonade.

the party itself wasn’t as bad as you expected. letting loose once in awhile always helped relieve some of the stress built up by tests and essays. prior to sitting down, you had spent a good thirty minutes dancing to a strange assortment of classic rock ballads and eclectic disco melodies. once exhausted and glistening with a thin layer of sweat. you grabbed the mystery vodka concoction and sat down.

you were just starting to relax when one of the alcohol-fueled “men” stumbled into the growing circle of people seated in the middle of the chaos, haphazardly leaning on one another.

“yoooo,” the boy slurred, “let’s do… truth or dare!” you groaned, moving to leave when your friend ashley tugged on your arm, dragging you back to her side.

“cmon… it’ll be fun” ash pleaded, throwing her arms around your neck to pull you closer. you could smell the cigarettes, weed, and crude cocktails on her breath. with a dejected sigh, you sunk back into the couch, curling up against ashley. you had never really enjoyed the game of truth or dare. ever since your junior year, when you were pressured into stealing something from the headmaster’s office and ended up with a month of detention, you had avoided it pretty successfully.

“i don’t think so.” you muttered, finishing off your drink with one last gulp. that’s when you heard an achingly familiar voice. ben jones, childhood friend turned sworn enemy somewhere in junior high.

it was difficult to piece together how the rift between the two of your formed. your friendship was so pure, so uplifting. there was no one in the world you trusted more. the beginning of the end came when you had your first serious crush. a boy in your french class named john had asked you to the movies to see the third harry potter film.

but that was the issue. ben and you had seen the first two together, read the books together. suffice to say it was a sacred tradition between the two of you. so when you broke the news to ben about your date, he wasn’t the most supportive. it escalated into a heated argument, before you angrily left his room with tears streaming down your face. later that night he called and apologized, but things were never the same after that. the last true conversation you had ended with both of you renouncing your friendship and going your separate ways. for weeks after, you would catch yourself staring at the phone, waiting for a call; or waiting for the courage to call first. but every time you felt the urge to run back to him, the final words he said would come back to haunt you.

“you abandoned me”

“how could you?”

“i hate you.”

since then, things were never the same. no more late night phone calls, no more movie marathons. when john broke your heart, you didn’t have ben to turn to. you didn’t realize how much you cared about him until that moment. but you weren't about to run back into his arms. so you stayed silent, grew up and went to university without so much as a backwards glance to your former best friend. just your luck that he ended up in the same school, even if he was in a different major. as university dragged on you walked past him in the halls less and less. but then you would see him at parties, exchanging furtive glances when you thought the other wasn’t looking. you hadn’t has a direct conversation in years. so the fact that he was at the same random party, giving you grief, made your blood run cold.

“you don’t have to be such a downer, bugs.” ben chided, taking a sip from the beer in his right hand. there was another, unopened bottle in his left. he had the audacity to call you by a nickname you hadn’t heard in years. at the age of six, the two of you had become obsessed with the looney tunes, watching old reruns from the seventies and following along as new episodes came out. you had been dubbed bugs in honor of bugs bunny by him, and you took to calling him beaky. you could remember vividly scratching the words ‘bugs and beaky forever’ into a tree not far from your primary school’s front yard. he called you bugs? well two could play at that game.

“that’s rich coming from you beaky.” you shot back, keeping your eyes trained on a generic painting hanging on the opposite wall. you could feel him shift on the other side of the couch’s arm, taking a seat no more than two feet away from you. after a moment you couldn’t resist the pull and took a quick glance at your ex-best friend, sucking in a breath as he came into view. he had ditched the justin bieber hair you remembered, letting it grow and curl around his ears. you pressed your lips together in a firm line, slowly tearing your eyes away from his chiseled jawline and striking green eyes.

“alright, everyone have a drink?” the boy who introduced the game called, holding up a cup of his own. everyone raised their own in response. you glanced down at your lap where the empty cup sat. whoops. just when you were toying with the idea of simply bailing from the party, an unopened bottle dropped into your lap, cold against the denim fabric of your jeans. you whipped your head to the side, where ben was quietly watching the plastered people arranged in the messy circle. you stared at him for a moment before he spoke.

“you’re welcome” he huffed, taking a sip from his own, identical bottle. you twisted off the cap, twiddling it between your fingers for a moment.

“thanks.” you said through gritted teeth, shutting yourself up from saying anything more with a long swig from the bottle. and so the game began. you sat there, head on ashley’s shoulder, laughing at the silly dares asked and often scandalous truths. someone would spin an empty bottle in the center of the circle, and whoever it landed on they would ask that stupid, fated question. truth or dare?

you weren’t subjected to anything too horrible. anytime you reached a question or dare that you were uncomfortable with, you would simply take a quick chug from your steadily emptying bottle and laugh. as time dragged on you had confessed the worst cocktail you ever drank, the weirdest dream you ever had, and had given someone a brief kiss on the cheek.

once your turn rolled around the third time, you reached for the bottle, spinning it with a bit of difficulty due to the beer pumping through your system. it spun in two complete circles and then just a touch more, landing square on ben. just your luck. you turned to him, locking eyes with his stunningly green ones. he really was quite gorgeous. it made your breath catch in your throat as you pushed out the question.

“truth or dare?” you breathed, raising an eyebrow in challenge. your mind filled with a number of different options and possible outcomes for his response. part of you wanted to be malicious and embarrass him for some crude form of revenge, but deep down you still cared deeply for ben and would hate to see him miserable. there truly was a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other.

“truth.” ben stated, crossing his arms firmly across his chest. his nonchalance steeled your spine and you held your chin high. your judgement was admittedly impaired by alcohol, but it was too late for you to change your mind. you needed to know the truth, whether or not it was in front of an audience.

“what’s the biggest lie you’ve told?”

he took in a sharp breath, moving his steely gaze to the frayed edges on his shoelaces. no more than a few seconds had passed between your question and his response, but it felt like an eternity. you clenched your fists repeatedly in your lap, habitually cracking them as the room stayed quiet. ben sighed, lifting his eyes just a tad to watch you through his long eyelashes.

“that i hate you. that you abandoned me. that i never wanted to see you again. take your pick” he almost hissed out the words, jumping to his feet and walking out when he had finished. you sat in stunned silence with the rest of the group, slowly processing what he said. someone coughed, another sneezed. still the silence stretched on. then ashley elbowed you in the ribs.

you whirled around, mouthing the word ‘what?’ and giving her a glare. she rolled her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. you crossed your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at her as you waited for an answer. she pointed wildly towards the door that ben had disappeared into, eyes wide as she gestured. it was very easy to read her exaggerated movements. she wanted you to talk to him. you knew you had to talk to him. but you didn’t want to. yet, after a beat, you groaned internally and headed towards the door, flipping ashley the bird as you left.

ben was a few rooms away, brooding silently as he gazed out a window. you took a seat across from him, resting your head on the chipped window frame. there was a plush bench situated against the wall, pillows tucked up against the glass. the two of you were seated on the floor, curled in similar positions, mirroring each other. the party seemed to have resumed in the other room, giggles and fits of laughter filling the air.

"so…" you began, grappling for some way to start up a conversation. you heard ben let out a heavy breath through his nose, tucking his hand under his chin. his profile was bathed in moonlight, casting a monochromatic glow on his chiseled features. his lips were turned into a distinct frown.

"so what?" you rolled your eyes. just as stubborn as he was when the two of you were kids. it summoned a memory of him nearly beating up a boy for calling you names, while you did your best to drag him away. always your defender, whether you needed it or not. another memory to make your heart ache as you sat straight across from that same, hot-headed boy.

“are we going to talk about what just happened?” you said, tone slightly terse. you suddenly wished you were back in your room, curled up in your covers, repressing memories of a happier time. a time where your only worries were what games to play and looney toons episodes to watch. a time where it was just you and ben against the world.

“suppose so.” he sounded just as tense as you, which for some reason pissed you off. he didn’t have to answer the question with something that hadn’t ever been addressed between the two of you. he could have said something inconsequential and you both could have continued on with your lives. but his admission needed to be dealt with, and it fell to you to make him explain.

“since you seem so keen to begin a conversation, i’ll start. why did you lie in the first place?” you could feel a lump rise in your throat. even after years of no contact, you still cared about him. his rejection all that time ago still stung. you deserved to know the truth.

“next question.” ben answered, voice still flat and emotionless. however, you could tell that he wasn’t unaffected by your prying. the muscles in his jaw had tightened, and you watched as he ran a hand through his hair. his gaze was drilled on something out the window, as if he was adamant not to look at your face.

“fine, smartass. why did my going on a date piss you off so much?” you were now fully focused on him, silently begging to any god that might exist for an answer that you had waited so long for.

“it wasn’t that you were going on a date,” you raised an eyebrow, doubtful of his answer, but he continued speaking, “it was that you were going to see harry potter. that was our thing. our tradition. in my adolescent boy brain, you were replacing me.” he suddenly sounded years younger, just like the boy you would play football with in the dead of night and share sweets with after school. his expression had also softened, eyes tentatively flicking back to you every couple seconds.

“you know that nothing would ever replace you. thick as thieves, mum used to say. i never would have replaced you for a middle school crush. so, why. did. you. lie?” you sounded strained, mad that he had ever for a moment thought anyone was more important to you than him. no person could fill the space he left behind.

“because i was jealous alright? jealous that you chose him over me. jealous that he got to hold your hand, take you to dances. i was jealous because i loved you, and you slipped away before i did anything to show you how much i cared.” ben snapped, tone softening as his confession went on, voice cracking near the end. he had been waiting to say those words for what felt like a lifetime. a weight was lifted of his shoulders, and, by association, yours as well. despite the somber nature of your conversation, you could feel a smile spread across your features. you were now entirely looking at each other, stupid, love-struck kids once more.

“ben, you total dork. i would have chosen you over him every time. you were who i truly cared about. but i’m not a mind reader, so when you never said anything, i assumed it was because my feelings weren’t reciprocated. therefore, i tried to move on. didn’t work by the way. nothing i did could make me stop loving you.” you reached out a hand and he gently took it, lacing your fingers with his. he too had a soft smile on his face, gaze shifting to your intertwined hands. his thumb rubbed small circles on the back of your hand, warming your skin with his touch.

“guess we're both idiots.” he looked back up, locking eyes with you. all at once, your feelings came rushing back. you could do nothing else but smile as the minutes passed by, still connected to ben through his outstretched hand. you tilted your head to look back out the large window, tracing the shapes of constellations between the stars. one flew by; a shooting star. your wish was simple: that you never had to let go of ben ever again.

“guess so.”

⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱

yee haw kids i’m finally getting back into it (if you call finishing off a draft that’s been there since june getting back into writing but shh)

here’s to more motivation in the weeks to come!

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #benhardy #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy angst #ben hardy fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #angst #idk if it can be called either but oh well #writing #please oh please reblog #help a girl out #that'd be stellar

128 notes · View notes

lxme-xss-imxgines · 5 years

Text

lost & found // BTS

Prompt: mafia/gang finds your wallet n sees ur broke as hell

Pairing: BTS x reader, turning into ot7 fic

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: swearing and suggestiveness(?)

A/n: hope y’all like this:)

Intro Part One Part Two Part Three

Lisa stands next to you, staring at the box in disbelief.

“I mean, money was one thing,” she mutters. “But clothes? Specifically for you, even. I think I’m gonna count myself out and say you have some sort of secret admirers. Plural.”

You roll your eyes at her as she takes a seat on the couch,”Not even the weirdest part. They’re all in my size. How would they know that?”

She shrugs,”You know what they say-”

“I know, I know. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I suppose . . . it just weirds me out that someone would spend so much money on me. And for no reason,” you cross your arms, staring at the items splayed on the table.

“Not to call us out or anything, but we’re not very well endowed with money. And after all, the first thing that they returned was your wallet with a wad of cash.”

For some reason, something clicks when Lisa says this. Suddenly you feel stupid, like you should have connected the dots sooner.

“I left my wallet on the table at the cafe, Lis,” she just nods, waiting for you to continue. “I left it there and you know who the only ones to walk in after us were?”

Lisa’s eyes widen with realization, understanding where you were going with this,”Those mysterious men. You don’t think-”

“I don’t know. Would that be crazy?” by now you’re pacing, trying to decide whether or not this whole situation is plausible. I mean, it makes sense, right?

“Maybe - “

“We should just ignore it?”

Lisa is silent after your suggestion. She then looks at you, letting out a small sigh,”I mean, it’s not really causing harm is it? Even if it is them? And who knows, maybe they were just sending one last gift. I wouldn’t think on it too much, hun.”

You nod, agreeing with her in a sense. What’s the harm from a wad of cash and some clothes, right? No reason to stress over some gifts.

However, this soon became a problem you couldn’t ignore.

It was nice at first - cash every once in awhile, clothes (even some for Lisa, which she was very excited about), and that was all nice.

And then it got slightly more obnoxious by the week.

The packages had progressed from small boxes with cash or clothes to nice furniture and even appliances. They even got you the most recent Macbook to help with your college classes, replacing the one you’ve had for years.

You felt odd, because any other person wouldn’t mind the showering of gifts for no other reason than your financial situation, but you couldn’t help feel a pang of guilt upon receiving each of these gifts.

The anonymous sender doesn’t know anything about you and had no reason to be so giving. You suddenly felt as if you only had one option - to contact them.

Of course, you don’t think you could very well contact them without information, even with your suspicion of their identities.

What’s the best way to find someone? The internet, of course.

You almost want to laugh at yourself, using the laptop you were given to try and for sure detect who this generous person - or people - may be.

So, you type the first thing that comes into your head - ‘BTS Seoul’

Your jaw almost drops to the floor at the results.

Things such as:

Wanted

Gang

Murders

True identities unknown

Police close cold case of nightclub shooting

No leads on notorious “Bangtan Boys (BTS)

However, none of those is what alarms you the most. Giving into your curiosity, you click over to the images and feel your heart leap out of your chest.

The picture was slightly blurry, but it was him.

It was a picture of the man you saw entering the cafe that night.

“They’ve only been coming for a month, and the owner told me that they’re allowed in no matter the time or circumstance. Luckily, they usually show up around the same time so I know when they’re going to be there”

You can feel the air leave your lungs, and your eyes flick up to the time and day on your laptop.

Wednesday 10:38

The same day and almost exact same time as when they showed up before.

You stand up immediately, rushing to slip on your shoes and jacket, and you’re outside of your apartment in under a minute.

Lisa is going to let a bunch of gang members into our local cafe. Very generous gang members, but gang members nonetheless.

You needed to get to there. Now.

For her sake and yours.

***

The entire ten minute walk - more like jog - to the cafe you felt your adrenaline rising more. You turn a corner and the cafe and suddenly in your sight, but you’re too late.

Their car is parked outside. And you didn’t run into Lisa on the way there, so that means she’s still there.

When you reach the building, you don’t think, you just act. You pull the door open, skidding to a halt when you see the scene before you.

The seven of them were around the largest table, each with a cup of some sort of drink in front of them - and they were all laughing. Not that you had expected them to have their guns out on the table and someone tied up to a chair or anything, but you especially didn’t expect Lisa to be serving them and laughing along.

You suddenly wish you could turn and walk away, but the bell attached to the door already let out a small noise, alerting everyone of your presence.

Anxiety fills from your toes to the top of your head when all eight people present turn to look at you, the laughter dying down quite suddenly.

You feel that your mouth is dry, so it comes out wrong when you try to speak,”Lisa, I need to talk to you.” You walk into the back of the cafe quickly, Lisa following you after muttering a small apology to the men. The gang.

“Y/n, what are you doing here? It’s kind of late-”

“Do they know, Lis? Did you tell them that I think it’s them?” your words come out with a frantic edge, taking Lisa aback slightly.

“No, I haven’t told them anything. What makes you think that?” you just shake your head, sighing of relief. She steps closer,”What is going on?”

“I was trying to figure out more about them, because I was feeling guilty and wanted to see if i could contact them, to thank them,” you swallow. “They are a gang, Lis.”

She just stares at you for a second, before letting out a little giggle. You stare at her in disbelief. Does she really not believe me?

“You think that those guys in there are in a gang?” now her laugh is slightly fuller,”They are completely harmless. And handsome, might I add.”

“Do you think I’m joking?” you roll your eyes. “Fine, I’ll prove it,” before she can protest, you make your way back out to the front.

You’re almost startled by their complete silence and stone-like expressions. You swallow, approaching their table quietly. As if sensing your presence, they all turn to face you.

Ah fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You open your mouth to speak, but are cut off by one of the men.

“Took you long enough,” one with dark hair and an unamused stare begins to speak. “We were beginning to think we weren’t ever going to meet.”

You’re taken aback by his crude comment,”Excuse me?”

Another one with dimples and purple hair begins to speak,”I’m sorry, what Yoongi means is that we’ve been hoping you would make contact with us.”

You’re at a loss for words and have so many questions at the same time. You’re so caught up in the conversation you didn’t even notice Lisa’s inherent shock at the possible truth.

“Why?” is the only word you can muster. “Why me? And don’t say because you pity my financial situation. I have a feeling a gang doesn’t just up and start being generous to random college students. Especially in the way you have.”

A few smirks break out, along with some shocked expressions at your bluntness.

“Well,” purple hair starts again,”Truth is . . . “

“We want you. Simple as that,” a rather pretty one begins speaking,”I’m Jimin, by the way.” he sends you a wink along with a smile, and you can feel heat rise into your cheeks.

“O-oh, I, um-”

“It’s okay to be nervous, or even a little scared. Just know we wouldn’t hurt you. Ever,” another one speaks and you nod at him in response; his soft eyes have an odd calming effect on you.

“You don’t even know me,” you protest, completely forgetting about their inherent gang status at the moment. “But yet you want me? All of you?” the true meaning of that phrase suddenly crosses your mind, and you wonder how that would even work. One for each day of the week? You hold back a snort at your own thought.

“I think we both know that knowing each other isn’t a concern,” Yoongi, you presume, begins. “And if you don’t understand that, you will. You’re ours.”

His words send shivers down your spine.

“Hyung, could you please stop being so forward? You’re going to scare her,” a dirty blonde headed man protests, staring at him with annoyance.

“There’s no point in lying, Taehyung. She was ours the first day she made eye contact with me.”

“Are you going to continue bragging about that one time, Jungkook? Or will we actually-”

A small ringing noise reverberates through the air, pulling everyone’s attention to the door - only for them to see you have exited.

“Good going, Yoongi,” Taehyung rolls his eyes, slouching back into his seat.

“Wait,” Lisa suddenly speaks, and they all turn toward her,”So you guys are actually a gang?”

The boys just sigh and chuckle lowly.

#BTS #BTS x reader #ot7 x reader #ot7 #yoongi #jin #jimin #jungkook #namjoon #hoseok #taehyung #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #hoseok x reader #jin x reader #jimin x reader

46 notes · View notes

percywinchester27 · 7 years

Text

Feelings

Pairing: Sam X Eileen

Word count: 1100-ish

Warning: Fluff… and ummm angst I guess?

Summary: Try as he might, Sam just couldn’t understand what that one feeling was…

A/N: This is written for @ilostmyshoe-79‘s Sweet emotions challenge. My prompt was: Longing. I hope y’all enjoy it :)

Feedback is really appreciated!

The first time that Sam saw her, he knew there was something different about her. Of all the staff at Old parks, she was the one who caught his eye. In hindsight, Sam should have known what it was that pulled him to her.

She was beautiful, but he was used to women being that. She was badass; he was used to that too. What he wasn’t used to was how unapologetic she was. She wasn’t scared admitting the things that scared her and Sam instantly loved that about her.

Sam hadn’t felt so at home with anyone in a long time. He felt like he could share his past, his emotions without feeling judged.

When she saved his brother, the one person who mattered most to him, he couldn’t find words to thank her, and when she nodded to let him know that she understood, he felt the weirdest sense of relief. Companionship. Maybe that was it.

She was really funny, Sam realized. When she said her good bye the next day, it was bittersweet. He tried to give her his number, but she turned it around on him saying he could try, but she wouldn’t pick up the call. He laughed with her, trying to dismiss the strange ache when the Impala drove away. Sam kept his eyes trained on the diminishing image of the girl in the green jacket till the image disappeared altogether.

It took him a couple of weeks before Sam gave in to his own restlessness and his brother’s relentless teasing and Emailed her. It felt good to type a couple of sentences asking her how she was and what she was up to. Sam felt better the moment he clicked send, but the relief lasted for all of 5 minutes before the panic set in. What if she didn’t answer? What if she didn’t wanna answer?

So was it desperation? He hoped not. Whatever the feeling was, it lasted for a couple of hours till she finally replied to his Email. Sam might have worn a hole in the floor of room in that while though.

It was a simple reply, maybe even simpler than his own generic questions, but it relieved Sam nevertheless, made it so much easier to breathe. It felt strange to be this nervous over talking to someone.

They made it a weekly thing after that. Whether he was on a hunt, or she was, they’d make it a point to Email each other.

One night, lying in a dusty motel room on a bed adjacent to his snoring brother’s, Sam couldn’t help but pick up the phone and make that video call. He wanted to see her again, he needed to see her again, because it had been too long. It was strange because he knew he was safe, he knew he was in no immediate danger, but yet Sam could feel that rush of adrenalin in his blood in the few minutes before she picked up the call.

And when she did pick up the phone, the bright happiness and wonder in her eyes gave way to this new emotion. Excitement.

Sam lost track of time that night as spoke in a hushed voice, but she picked up every word perfectly, telling him her own stories in reply to his own. There was something pure about the silent laughs they shared, even as his bed creaked under his body with every move.

Sam didn’t mind being woken up too early by Dean the next day morning, and even though it made his brother wonder, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. The urge to see her face once more was too strong in that moment. He was craving it.

When she walked into bunker that day, Sam could swear his heart stopped for a second. He was staring and it was probably obviously, but he couldn’t look away from her rosy cheeks or the beautiful smile. Just like the other time, he tripped over his own words trying to tell her how badass she was. Dean could do it just fine, so why couldn’t he? Sam wanted to kick himself for that.

When they set out, it seemed like a win-win situation, but when they got back, it all seemed like a lost cause. Eileen had been quite all the way back towards the bunker, and when she finally turned to him, her eyes begging for him to understand that killing Renny was an honest mistake, he couldn’t help but pull her into his arms. It pained him to see her in so much pain.

Sam checked on her that night, long after she had retired to bed. She seemed so small in her sleep, somehow so helpless that Sam felt himself gravitate towards her, itching to pull back the covers and slip in beside her, yearning to pull her in his arms and never let go of her. But today was not the day, so he closed the door quietly and slipped back in his own room.

He couldn’t get much sleep that night, which worked well with his plan to find a solution to finding Dagon. When the illustrations in the books turned to stuff of his dreams Sam had no idea, but the warm hands pressing against his shoulders and rousing him gently from his nap in bunker library didn’t feel alien at all. They felt like home.

She was going back to Ireland for a while, she told him, and it felt like a punch in the gut to Sam. She gave him a tight hug and he could make out a whispered thank you, but he didn’t want to let her go. When she broke apart, Sam wanted to hold her hand and yank her right back into his chest. He made her promise that she’d ask for help if she needed it, that she’d come back soon. What he couldn’t convey was that he needed her. She had agreed to little request, smiling a small but genuine smile, before walking away from him.

Sam memorized it, committed the way her lips curved upwards to his mind. As the bunker door clanged behind her, for the first time Sam understood what that raw feeling was. The companionship, the desperation, the excitement, the wonder and the pain. It was none of those, but also all of them at the same time. What Sam truly felt deep in his heart, in the pit of his stomach was longing, so acutely intense that it drowned out every other feeling in that moment. The longing to hold, the longing to be held and the longing to be loved.

Sam swore it to himself then and there, that the next time he saw her, he wasn’t going to just stand there looking at her. She had to know how he felt. As bittersweet as this longing was, Sam knew he’d be damned if he didn’t act upon it. And act upon it he would.

I had no clue whom to tag so I’m taking a random shot at a couple folks here apart from those who asked:

@thing-you-do-with-that-thing @deanssweetheart23 @deaths-damn-fruit-basket @grace-for-sale @feelmyroarrrr @mrswhozeewhatsis @ilostmyshoe-79 @growningupgeek

#sweetemotionschallenge #sam x eileen #saileen #eileen x sam #saileen fanfic #sam winchester x eileen fanfiction #spn ships #spn fanfiction #ana writes saileen #anawritesspn #anawrites #q

84 notes · View notes

irishcoffeeslushie · 7 years

Text

Nobuta wo Produce review (excerpts) - I

Disclaimer: I didn’t write this, although I wish I had. Source.

High school.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of teenage angst, it was the season of puppy love; it was the spring of maturity, it was the winter of childhood; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us…

God bless his soul, but Mr. Dickens must be turning in his grave this very minute knowing that his iconic opener from “A Tale of Two Cities” was hijacked by some slush-brained Jdorama fangirl, and then bastardized into a paean to the Universal High School Experience. Even worse, imagine his horror to find this piece to be just a pretext for a long and gushy tribute to a rather unsightly pair of Japanese teen idols — one scrawny and effeminate, the other looking perpetually lobotomized — who, by their performances in the drama that’s about to be dissected, have effectively clinched said fangirl’s undying affections (pure and, uh, otherwise). If our esteemed Victorian novelist only knew that his classic lines would later be co-opted into a rhapsody about a couple of Johnnies fer gawdssakes, he wouldn’t just be turning in his grave by now, but doing freakin’ somersaults while chewing on his elbows or something — or worse, gyrating furiously to the “Seishun Amigo” chorus. (Sacrilege!!! Is nothing sacred now? Not even Dickens???)

I know it may sound funny (and even counterintuitive), but “sacred” is exactly what I hold this drama to be. Admittedly, Nobuta wo Produce hardly looks impressive on the surface, and can be dismissed by the casual observer as just another idoru vehicle set against the disposable backdrop of high school — with the fluff, the stereotypes, the puerile laughs — only to be swallowed in a sea of other mass-produced Jdramas of the same teen-wanking formula… But no. This one is different. Because once in a while we drama fans are gifted with a viewing experience so transcendent in both style and substance, a triumphant synergy of directorial creativity, of writing deep and resonant, and of characters so heartbreakingly authentic.

Nobuta wo Produce is the Jdrama that is closest to my heart, the one that means the most to me out of all that I’ve watched (and re-watched). (And you thought it was something Kimura had starred in? Close, but no ciggy.) Although I cannot speak for all fans of this drama, I know that many, like myself, have come to love its three protagonists — Shuji, Akira, Nobuta — with a fierce allegiance, and can identify with their own feelings of disquiet and trepidation as they stand, inevitably, on the brink of adulthood. This is a deeply personal drama to watch — and that, for me, is what makes it sacred in no small way. Just as we all — whoever and wherever we are — inwardly uphold as sacrosanct the universal themes that this drama explores to rich, rewarding ends: the painful reality of growing up, the strange duality of alienation and friendship, and the “self-revelatory odyssey” of finding yourself as you make your way through life.

Robert Lloyd of the Los Angeles Times had this to say about another seminal teen drama from the other side of the world that remains, in my opinion, the best of its kind to ever be spawned by Hollywood — and also, regrettably, one of the most underrated and short-lived. The title? My So-Called Life (ABC, 1994).

“Every so often in the collaborative art called television a little miracle happens. There is a meeting of minds, a confluence of vision, a gathering of particular talents. The planets align, the cards fall into place, and something is born whose worth is instantly apparent to all involved, not as a generator of revenue — at which it might fail completely — but as an ennobling refraction of some little bit of the Truth, of what it means, or could mean, to be alive. Each department pushes the others a little bit harder; excellence from one corner prompts ambition in another. What might have begun as just the next greenlighted project or available job becomes a sort of holy mission, even if none of the participants would ever dare call it that — this being, after all, only television.”

These words also captured all that I felt about Nobuta wo Produce and had hoped to articulate in my own inadequate way. And the stars did seem to align for myself and this drama: a few minutes into the first episode I knew that something extraordinary was unfolding on my TV screen. There was no way this would turn out to be just another teen drama. Nor did it feel like an “idol drama” in spite of its cast; I saw no idols playacting for the paycheck, but three regular high school kids in a coming-of-age story that was all at once funny, heartfelt and bittersweet. NwP isn’t an outstanding high school drama, but an outstanding drama, period.

Based on the novel by Shiraiwa Gen, the screenplay by Kizara Izumi serves as the backbone of the whole drama… and oh my goodness, how can I NOT gush about THE WRITING — it both warms and pierces the heart. And it’s so… HIGH SCHOOL, y’know? It gets it, as in it really gets what high school is all about, that different planet we’ve ALL been to, where the drama and the heightened emotions and the clique wars and the desire for validation and the puppy love and the tortured ruminations matter more than they ever will by the time we’re these Big Old Boring Grownups. Nobuta wo Produce is about Becoming and Belonging, and about finding fast and true friends who will help you along the way.

Everyone loves Shuji – from his teachers right down to his peers, from his coterie of “bye-byecycle” homeboys to their simpering, magazine-flipping counterparts, from the resident toughies to the nerds and outcasts. And he lives for their acceptance, he craves their admiration, he likes to be liked by everyone… Well, maybe not everyone, because if there is one person he simply cannot stand, the bane of his high school existence, it’s this boy, the Weirdest Human Being Shuji has ever met. There simply is nobody else on earth quite like… Kusano Akira (Yamashita Tomohisa).

If Pinocchio were a special child and had magic mushrooms for breakfast every bleeping day of his life… then add a few more embellishments like the bleached hair and rolled-up shirtsleeves, the baggy pants and wallet chain, the spacey giggling and face-pulling, the repertoire of funny voices and horribly infectious expressions — bakayaro! kon-kon! Shu-uuuji-kun! sukebe! – and a partiality to quoting Nietzsche while incongruously flailing his arms like a gooney bird… voila! Kusano Akira, Resident Freak of 2-B. And the worst thing about this little creep? Is that he seems to harbor an unhealthy liking for… Shuji. (Oh NOES!!!) (Ohhhh YESSS!!!! Hehehe)

So what on earth makes this unlikely twosome team up for a common cause? Shortly after the new girl’s arrival, Shuji and Akira chance upon a particularly nasty case of girl-on-girl bullying coming from inside the ladies’ room. The victim turns out to be that odd little transferee Kotani Nobuko (Horikita Maki). Reluctant to get involved, Shuji stays outside the washroom while Akira goes inside to try and reason with the bullies. With no image to protect, Akira has nothing to lose by sticking up for someone like Nobuta — even if it means getting hosed down himself. For all his flakiness and irrational fears, Akira is no coward.

I like how the writing gives the viewer a comprehensive crash course in product development, brand marketing and image management. I have no background in this field, but still found this stuff incredibly fascinating. And there’s a certain *wink, wink, nudge, nudge* aspect to this drama, given that Shuji and Akira’s marketing strategy parallels how the entertainment industry manufactures, packages and sells celebrities, be they TV/film stars or recording artists or — yes, teen idols. (I really do wonder if Messrs. Kamenashi and Yamashita ever realized how meta the whole “Producing Nobuta” story line was. Did they ever look up from the script during one of the read-throughs and go, “Huh? But this is US!” Heh heh.)

A crucial point for Shuji comes in the Valentine’s Day episode, where he must choose between showering Nobuta with flower petals, or dousing her with cold water. The first option will spell kryptonite for his Cool Guy status, while the second will undoubtedly break Nobuta’s heart. What to do, what to do? As much as I wanted to wring Shuji’s neck for vacillating through most of the episode, you understand how much it means to him to put his popularity on the line.

This episode builds with delicious suspense — will he, or won’t he? — and concludes with a most unexpected twist. Damn, but when Bando (as a last-minute substitution, as per Nobuta’s request) pulls the cord and those petals come raining down on Nobuta, I frickin’ cried my eyes out. What’s more touching is when Nobuta realizes that Shuji, after an agonizing night of soul-searching, had in fact played, and played, and played a random eeny-meeny-miney-mo game until he finally arrived at “flower” instead of “water.” (Awwww, Shu-uuuji-kun!)

97% of the drama’s humor emanates from this singular bundle of goofy laughs. And Akira’s screwiness is surpassed only by how bloody endearing he is. You come to not only tolerate his foibles, but embrace them — because as a viewer you can look past appearances to see his good, stout and true heart. He may be off the wall (actually WAAAY off the wall, lol), but Akira is the Real Deal. He is also the perfect voice for an entire generation of aimless, unmotivated youngsters trying to make sense of, well, everything. “I dunno what youth is all about,” he bleats to Shuji on the rooftop in Episode 1. “I don’t have anything I want to do, and I don’t want to do anything.” (To which Shuji replies: “Isn’t everyone like that?” Hmm, good point, Shuji.)

If Shuji and Nobuta’s personal bugbears are dishonesty and low self-esteem, respectively, for Akira it is growing up. In Episode 6 he promptly leaves home to escape his dad’s mounting insistence that he take over the family-run company someday; and for the boy this is a most horrifying prospect, a life that will not only saddle him with a staggering load of adult responsibilities, but also take him far, far away from what he most holds dear. He tells Shuji before drifting off to sleep (having crashed the Kiritani home after a violent disagreement with his dad) “I don’t wanna go back home. I like that tofu guy and I can drink ‘mame chichi’ and be with Shuji and Nobuta everyday…” (Oh, Akira.)

Akira has the best lines when he’s at his tortured, lovesick worst. When Shuji the Cynic asks him what his immediate plans are — “What are you going to do? Confess to her, and then go to the zoo on a date, or something?” — Akira mulls it over a second, then answers: “What I want to do the most is… MARRY HER!!!….. How embarrassing!” (Then Shuji dryly comments via voice-over, “His reality goes way beyond my imagination.” LMAO!!!! Man I love those boys. *tear*) So, you don’t wish to deny him his petty fits of jealousy, like attempting to throw away Shuji’s short film – with insanely funny repercussions: “Akira DOWN!!!” (Lol!!!) Then, “My heart hurts…” (Awwww…) But he can’t keep his wrongdoing a secret from Shu-uuji-kun, so he confesses right there on the video room floor: “I’m the worst guy. The WORST.” To which Shuji quietly replies, “I’m the worst, too.” (Man I really, really love those boys. *tear*)

Salinger’s angstily f*cked-up hero Holden Caulfield fears becoming one of those adult “phonies” whom he detests so much, and instead envisions himself a catcher standing on the edge of a cliff, intercepting little kids as they come through a field of rye. In Nobuta wo Produce, Shuji, Nobuta and (most of all) Akira grapple with similar feelings as they face the terrifying inevitability of growing up. In this sense, both “Catcher” and NwP run counter to conventional Bildungsroman lines because the characters try to resist this process of maturity. It is only later that they learn to accept, and embrace it as part of life.

NwP is chock-full of these soul-stirring vignettes, and I’d like to include a few here. One unforgettable moment is a shot of Shuji and Akira on their bikes, pausing in the middle of a tree-lined road and turning to watch the adult pedestrians, these working stiffs in suits, hurry past in the other direction. Shuji: “I thought about how we’re gonna become like those boring-looking people someday.”

And this obviously pushes That Button inside Akira, sending him into Spaz Mode: “I don’t wanna be like that! Don’t wanna, don’t wanna, don’t wanna be like that!” (LOL oh Akiraaa)

#nobuta wo produce

2 notes · View notes

homeawayfromhogwarts394-blog · 7 years

Photo

On the twenty-first day of christmas, fanfiction gave to me... Starrnobella! Read her work on Fanfiction.net, find her on tumblr @starrnobella, and read her interview below!

Getting to Know You

HAFH: Tell us how you fell in love with Harry Potter

S: I fell in love with Harry Potter after reading the books. I love reading stories that are outside of the norm. Give me magic, witches, wizards, werewolves, vampires, and the like any day over a sappy romance novel. (Which I’m still a sucker for anyways lol)

HAFH: Who is your favorite Character? Which is your favorite book? Why?

S: My favorite character is Hermione. She is a brainiac who is devoted to perfection or as close to it as she can get, just like me.

My favorite book is Half-Blood Prince because potions is my favorite class at Hogwarts and the focus on that class is very much present in that book.

HAFH: What is your favorite book (outside of HP)?

S: Tricks by Ellen Hopkins

HAFH: What are your favorite holiday traditions?

S: Waking up early, drinking coffee and opening the presents in our stockings by the light of the Christmas Tree

HAFH: Do you like the holidays?

S: I do enjoy them!

HAFH: Share one of your strengths and one of your weaknesses. Doesn’t have to be writing related!

S: Strength: My odd ability to remember some of the weirdest little things

S: Weakness: I strive too hard for perfection to the point of becoming overly stressed out.

HAFH: What other hobbies do you have?

S: Photography, Singing, and Reading

HAFH: Do you write anything outside of Harry Potter fanfiction?

S: I write for the Once Upon A Time fandom! :)

HAFH: What are you doing when you're not obsessing about Harry Potter or fanfiction?

S: Obsessing about Once Upon A Time

General Fanfiction

HAFH: Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

S: Start with a prompt/idea/song - set a little of the scene - flashback to explain a relationship or finish setting the scene - conflict usually caused by the flashback -another flashback - resolution

Basically I use flashback to really get the reader in the mindset of the scene/character

HAFH: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

S: I’d love to see a prequel to Getting Personal by Oracle Obscured because I’d like to see more about how Hermione got to the point she was before the story began. I’m all for finding out all the little details lol.

HAFH: If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose? Any actors you would hope play your characters?

S: Either Nothing More than Who I Am (AU - Hermione and Draco are in school with Tom Riddle and Slughorn teaches Potions) or Say Something (Once Upon A Time/Harry Potter Crossover). Both of them have so much potential. My Hermione will always be Emma Watson, my Draco is Tom Felton, and my Neal Cassidy|Baelfire will always be Micheal Raymond.

HAFH: If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

S: Only One? It’s a toss up between Captain Swan and Dramione. I love them both and I can see similarities between them.

HAFH: Do you have a muse? What is it?! If not, where do you get your ideas?

S: Music, prompts (both my own and xxDustNight88’s pop up prompts), and random life events or things that happen in the show/movie

HAFH: Do you read fanfiction? Do you read similar or different things than you write?

S: Yes I read, not as much as I’d like, but I do read. Some of it is similar to my work, some not. I tend to read the work of authors that I’m friends with.

HAFH: Share three of your favorite fic writers and what you like about them.

S: xxDustNight88 - She can make you feel exactly how the character is feeling in a scene just through the words she writes. It’s amazing.

S: Dramione84 - Her stories catch your attention and make you want so much more and have you pining for the next update.

S: Oracle Obscured - I just love their writing style and seeing an update email makes me excited!

HAFH: Share three of your favorite fanfictions and what you like about them.

S: Teardrops and Teacups by xxDustNight88 - You can feel exactly how Hermione feels and the story makes your heart ache for her.

S: Teaching Miss Granger by Oracle Obscured - HOT and makes me dream of detentions with Snape

S: Sex Ed by MrBenzedrine - I love a good teacher/teacher fic and this Dramione relationship is perfect!

HAFH: Does what you read affect what or how you write? If yes, how so?

S: Absolutely. It shows me a new light to write characters in. I never would have written Snape as a person who cares about another’s mental well-being had I not read Getting Personal by Oracle Obscured.

HAFH: How long have you been reading and writing fanfiction?

S: Since July of this year.

Published Works

HAFH: Have you ever deleted one of your published fics? Why?

S: Yes, but it went back up shortly after. Apparently I had doubles of some of my edits all through a fic.

HAFH: Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

S: “Dirty dishes sat on the edge of the sink in the kitchen. Piles of books, clothes, and papers were scattered over the drawing room. Late into the afternoon, the heavy curtains were still pulled shut. The dusty, old look to the inside of the house would lead one to believe the house itself was suffering from a grim depression. There was a bleakness wrapped around the whole house as a shawl wrapped around a person’s shoulders on a rough wintery morning.

The once pretty wallpaper was shredded and faded. There were wilted flowers in the expensive crystal vases on the counters. The house had lost its beauty that once reigned supreme when it was home to some of the greatest minds ever known. There was a mutual understanding between its history and those who inhabited the house. That understanding was that no matter the problem, the weather, or what is considered to be mainstream at the time this house would bring the troubled mind solitude.

Hermione Granger had been living in this house for some time now.”

I love this piece because it sets the scene quite nicely. You really get the feeling of how run down the house was.

HAFH: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

S: ““How long?” were the only words she spoke while staring intently at the paper when he walked up to the table where she was seated and spied the note.

“How long what?” he asked trying to play it off.

“Have you been fucking Astoria?” she sobbed looking up at him as the tears started to fall once again. His heart dropped.

“How did you find out?” he mumbled, afraid to look her in the eyes as he started fidgeting with his fingers.

“This,” she spat as she pointed to the note on the table. He picked it up and read it.

It was a note from Astoria. He had never seen it before. He couldn’t figure out how it had gotten to their flat. The note was from the first night they had slept together, telling him how happy she was that he had finally chosen her, even if he was still going home to the “Princess” every time he left her flat. She hoped that he would chose her in the end.

“It fell out of your trouser pockets when I gathered laundry earlier,” she told him spying the confusion on his face.

As the tears continued, she yelled again, “How long have you been fucking her behind my back?”

“I’m going out,” he answered and walked back out the door that he had walked in moments before. Once he closed the door he leaned back and sunk to the ground. His heart broken into a million pieces. He heard the loud crash of something being thrown at the door in his wake, and the tears started to fall from his own eyes. He needed to make this right. “

This from a fic coming soon, or already published by the time this goes up. You can really feel the heartbreak in Hermione’s voice when she confronts him. (I know this is a little more of a prose, rather than dialogue, but I love this too much. )

HAFH: Which fic has been the hardest to write?

S: When Books Meet the Sea (Once Upon A Time/Harry Potter Crossover) because it really hits close to home

HAFH: Which fic has been the easiest to write?

S: Lost Letters of Love because it is a collection of letters, so there is no set plot to build.

HAFH: What is your favorite story you have every written?

S: Earn Your Hot Cocoa, it’s part of starrnobella’s Christmas Countdown

Writing Process

HAFH: What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

S: If you get stuck, set it aside and come back. Bashing your head against a wall is pointless, and will cause harm. The story will get there eventually, it’s okay if it takes a while.

HAFH: What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

S: That after awhile you should force yourself to leave your comfort zone, no matter if you want to or not. I will always stick to what I’m comfortable with. I may try something different, but I am not likely to share it for all to see.

HAFH: Describe your perfect writing conditions.

S: If music isn’t blasting, then a movie or tv show is playing on my tv. I have a cup of coffee or tea by my side and am curled up under my Chemistry No Sew blanket with my Vanilla Frosting Yankee Candle lit.

HAFH: Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

S: You know, I probably should, but I don’t lol. Typically if I’m working on my WIPs I have the previous chapters nearby.

HAFH: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

S: A mix of both. My letters are written start to finish, but most of my other fics are written in the order the muse strikes and then I will go through and reorganize it.

HAFH: Describe the process a chapter goes through before being posted.*

S: Sits open on my screen a while - start writing slowly - muse hits - finishes writing rather quickly - prints off for edits by hand - digital edits made - posted!

HAFH: How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

S: Anywhere from 5 ideas to 25 haha. Most of them are based on prompts I’ve read in the different groups I’m a member of. One of them is an actual story for Lost Letters of Love that goes along with the letters.

HAFH: Would you ever kill off a canon character?

S: If the muse led me to it, then yes I would.

HAFH: Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

S: Nothing I write is canon compliant. Some of it may run parallel to a pieces of it, but are still divergent from what is actually there. I love J. K. Rowling’s work, but my ships don’t all exist in her world, so they need a home.

HAFH: Is there a character, book, scene, etc from canon (above all others) that inspires you?*

S: Hermione. She is such a complex character that can be written from so many different angles that every story is unique and special in it’s own light.

HAFH: Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to? Or one you never would want to write?

S: I’d like to try my hand in a few tropes. Fake dating being one of them, but the muse just hasn’t struck.

HAFH: Is writing your passion or a fun hobby?

S: A passion, hands down no questions asked.

Revision

HAFH: If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

S: Lost Letters of Love - I’d actually give it a plot and make it more than just the letters.

HAFH: How do you feel about collaborations?

S: I love them. I have worked with Dramione84 on a few stories. Also k-lynne317 and I are a planning something fun as well.

HAFH: What do you look for in a beta?

S: Someone I trust and I can use as a sounding board when I have an idea. My fics are my babies, so I don’t want to just have any random person do the first read for me. I honestly think I have the best team of betas/alpha readers a person can get.

HAFH: Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

S: I do. I check for grammar and spelling. I also make a great sounding board for ideas when the author gets stuck and we can find a way to pull all the ideas together. I am currently working with Rowena Hill on Leather and Lace.

Works in Progress

HAFH: Talk about your current wips.

S: Forever and Always (OUAT) is what I wanted to see happen in season 6. So far it’s been completely divergent from what’s going on.

Lost Letters of Love is Future Dramione and it is the letters that they send back and forth when they are separated for work, with newspaper articles written by Theo just for an added bonus.

starrnobella’s Christmas Countdown is my 25 days of Christmas. Every day a new story with a new pairing and a new prompt.

I also have two running drabble collections: Interstellar Novella is for Harry Potter and Written in the Stars is for Once Upon a Time.

HAFH: Do you accept prompts?

S: Absolutely! I take them on tumblr, ffn, ao3, and my fanpage on facebook!

HAFH: Which is your favorite site to post fic?

S: Tumblr! I think I can reach more people on there, but I’m still relatively new, so who knows what the future holds!

HAFH: How do you feel about smut?

S: I enjoy it. Still struggling to write it, but that’s because I won’t get out of my own head.

HAFH: How do you deal with trigger warnings in your work?*

S: I try to put them in the author’s note if I know they are there. I have been known to miss them occasionally, but not all the time.

Feedback

HAFH: What kind of feedback do you prefer?

S: I prefer praise, especially if you are going to post it for all to see in the reviews. I also like getting questions from readers that have read the fic. Some I answer in the next chapter and some remain unanswered for a while.

HAFH: Is there anything that you particularly like or don’t like to see in a review?

S: I love hearing things that the reader likes, especially when they are from different points in the fic. I don’t like concrit in reviews. Send the concrit in a pm to the author so that it is not out for the whole world to see when they go to review the fic.

HAFH: Talk about a review that made your day.

S: This came to Lost Letters of Love the other day: “I've stumbled upon this fic last night and I couldn't stop reading it. I particularly love the concept of Draco and Hermione writing love letters to each others. I must say, it's a very unique style and looking forward to every letter they write.” I’m not used to people stumbling upon my work, so this made me really happy.

HAFH: Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

S: I don’t get many. Usually I ignore them, but if it’s one that really bothers me like they reviewed without reading, then I will message them and kinda ask for an explanation, just because I’m curious.

Thanks again to Starrnobella for taking the time to answer all of our questions! Make sure to check out her stories and find her on tumblr!

#hafh25daysofchristmas #author spotlight #christmas in January #Starrnobella #hafhpotterhead

8 notes · View notes