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guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy · 7 months ago

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i know the end - vettel

(gif not mine @usersewis)

pairing: sebastian vettel x reader

summary: Sebastian came into your life in 2015 and left in 2020 - but you fell in love with him and he just wanted a championship.

themes/warnings: alcohol, ANGST, no use of y/n, description of a panic attack, unrequited love, waxing poetic about ferrari - can you tell they're my fav team, kimi mentioned, charles is here too !! THIS IS FICTION

wc: 3.6k

a/n: someone on tumblr said that ferrari is a haunted house with a picket fence and i have never stopped thinking about it since. i have also never stopped thinking about sebastian vettel - subcategory of seb thoughts is seb in ferrari. also still open to do requests - trying out this whole fic writing thing. will also need help with organising my blog if anyone is keen :)

read on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/60713827

Sebastian joined Ferrari in 2015. The team were ecstatic to have the four time world champion join their ranks, determined to bring Ferrari back to its former glory.

You were working on the strategy team, fairly new but established enough to be listened to on the rare occasion.

You met Seb in the pre-season at his factory introduction. He made his speech, charming the floor with his near perfect Italian. He popped into the strategy meeting room during his tour, a war room that had become home for you with its laptops and papers spread out. Sebastian was the perfect gentleman, shaking hands with everyone, though you thought he may have held on a bit longer with you.

The season started soon after, the entire garage working overtime. You were given the opportunity to accompany the team at races, rather than being stuck at Maranello.This is how you became Sebastian’s favourite strategist.

You’re not exactly sure when it happened. You made a good strategy call in Malaysia, a well timed pit stop in Hungary and by Singapore, the lion knew your coffee order from the Ferrari cafeteria, ensuring to always pass you some before a long meeting.

Falling for Sebastian was drawn out, comprised of lingering greeting hugs, good conversation at team dinners, long nights at the factory and searing glances across foreign nightclubs.

You didn’t realise it for a while, and you wouldn’t realise it until it was too late. The attention you received was perhaps just part of Seb’s charm, and he had the whole motorsport world wrapped around his infamous finger.

2016 brought on a winless year for Ferrari, both Kimi and Sebastian unable to make it to that crucial top step.

You found Seb at the back of the Ferrari motorhome after a particularly tough race, hiding between tyre stacks. You overheard his PR team scrambling to find him - you slipped out to the back unnoticed, knowing exactly where he was.

The tyre stacks were sort of a shared place for you and Sebastian, free from the prying eyes of the world. The only person who knew about it was Sebastian’s head mechanic, who accidentally stumbled upon you two sharing champagne after a podium last year.

I’ll be there soon. Sebastian recognised your footsteps before even looking up.

You sat down beside him, trying to find the words while he absentmindedly played with his water bottle.

I’m sorr-

I don’t want to hear it.

Sebastian had never snapped at you. You knew the strategy calls were bad today, resulting in an ill timed pitstop and Sebastian falling through the other. This Seb, this was completely foreign to you.

Seb stood and left, sparing no further glance at you. It was a punch to your gut. Did he blame you? Drivers were always temperamental, that you knew, but Sebastian had always been nothing but kind and mature with you.

Your body went into autopilot mode, packing up what you can before the team debrief.

Sebastian barely spared you a glance as everyone settled in for the debrief. Perhaps a sign that he calmed down during media duties, but you knew better than to play detective with another man’s emotions.

Strategy seemed to be the biggest issue to tackle with your boss taking the lead. You half listened, taking notes occasionally until he mentioned your name.

One of the plans you brought up in pre-race meetings was bold and daring. It was entertained, but ultimately shoved aside for what ended up happening during the race. However after witnessing what happened in the race, it would have gained the team some higher positions.

Ferrari is a team, one where we win and lose together. Every aspect is just as important as each other. Admitting mistakes and learning for them is how the team gets stronger.

The strategy admission had Sebastian sneaking glances at you for the rest of the meeting. You felt it, but you weren’t exactly ready to forgive yet.

You returned to your home in Maranello without so much as another word to Sebastian. You were, however, greeted by a bouquet of peonies on your dining table, along with a note from the man you were so desperately trying not to think about.

By 7PM the same day, you and Seb were sharing a blanket on the couch and watching a romcom, having devoured pizza and now working your way through a giant bag of chocolate wafers.

Unfortunately, Seb knew the way to your heart. As you tucked yourself into bed that night, you realised that you never shared a conversation with him about Sunday and an even scarier thought, you had forgiven him.

2017 saw you and Sebastian grow even closer. Movie nights at your apartment became the norm and Seb often took you to dinner on race weekends, despite your protests that the dinners were too fancy. He had to spoil his favourite strategist would always be his response.

Sebastian returned to the top step of Monaco that year, the Italian anthem blaring across the track along with a chorus of devoted Tifosi. He sneaked off after the celebrations, pulling you with him to the tyre stacks, champagne bottle on the other hand.

Seb passed you the bottle and you took a large sip, pushing down the thought that his lips were on it mere moments ago.

Are you coming to the afterparty?

Yes, but I don’t have anything to wear?

No party dress packed? Ye of little faith.

You rolled your eyes and shoved the bottle back into his hands. The endless banter and teasing simultaneously made you forget about your feelings for Seb but also made you fall harder for him.

Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. He kissed your cheek and walked away.

Cheek kisses weren’t new for Seb, having evolved from greeting hugs long ago. But “take care of it”? Well, he better not be doing what you were thinking.

You returned to your hotel room to a large black box on your bed, an extravagant red bow tied around it with a handwritten note, definitely scrawled on by a tipsy Seb.

The box revealed a red dress, and on top of it, another small box. You opened it and out dangled a small necklace with a heart charm. Engraved on one side was the number 5. Sebastian.

Sebastian knocked on your door two hours later, dressed sharp and ready for the night ahead. He took you in, the dress he picked out was the perfect fit against your skin. There was however, one missing detail.

The necklace?

It’s a bit much, no?

Nonsense.

Sebastian walked into your room and spotted the necklace on the bed. He took it out of its pouch and motioned for you to stand in front of the mirror. He stood behind, putting the necklace on you. His fingers ghosted over your neck, raising the tiny hairs on your skin.

Team number 5.

Sebastian kissed the side of your head and his fingers trailed down your arm to grab your hand. You followed him out in a daze to the elevator.

The dim light of the elevator and Sebastian’s intoxicating cologne enveloping the cramped box. The elevator dinged, letting in more people. The sound woke you from whatever spell Sebastian cast. You counted down the floors until you had to leave the warmth of Sebastian’s side and his calloused hand around yours.

Ground floor. The air was clearer as you exited the bubble - reality. Because despite everything, Sebastian wasn’t yours. He is Ferrari’s. You are Ferrari’s. For now, sharing a home would be enough.

You never left Sebastian’s line of sight all night. Between partying with your girlfriends, sharing a drink with your boss and a few dances with Seb, the clarity in the haze of the club was Sebastian.

As the night began winding down, Sebastian approached you at a booth. He was holding a mystery drink and his pupils were blown wide. He began blabbering about something Kimi did, the Finn possibly to blame for Sebastian’s current state. You took one look at him and began arranging a cab back to the hotel.

You managed to drag a half asleep Sebastian back to his room. You sat him on the edge of the bed while you filled up a water bottle. You came back and found him spread eagle on the bed. At least he took his shoes off.

Goodnight Seb.

You were halfway out the room when you heard it.

I love you.

You froze. Looking back, you saw Seb snoring peacefully, hugging a pillow to his chest. No, he’s drunk and sleeping. It wasn’t for you. It could’ve been for his bed for all you cared for. It didn’t matter, despite your heart wishing it was for you.

2018 was another successful year for Ferrari. Sebastian came home with five wins that year, placing second in the drivers standings and Kimi in third. All in all, you were quite proud of the team’s efforts that year and you knew you could unlock more of that potential.

However, you could feel something bothering Sebastian. An itch that had been present all season. You had asked a few times, but Seb always insisted it was nothing. You knew Sebastian well enough by this point. You could read him, to an extent. But if he truly wanted to hide something, you would be helpless at getting it out.

Sebastian invited you to stay at his farm in Switzerland for a week during the winter break. You happily obliged, having not seen him since wrapping up in Abu dhabi. You could use the tranquillity of farm life for a bit.

Your days there were spent helping Sebastian with the animals. He taught you horse riding and you taught him baking. You let yourself get lost in that life, if just for a mere moment. Perhaps in some alternate universe, this was your home with him, that you weren’t only playing house for a week.

You and Sebastian were laying on the carpet in front of the fireplace, sharing a bowl of attempted smores. It was your last night there before you had to jet off back to Maranello to begin pre season work.

Seb got quiet, not exactly rare but it was different when something was on his mind.

Would you ever leave?

Leave where?

Ferrari.

No. Ferrari is home.

Sebastian hummed, adding nothing more but deciding to bite into another smore. A bit of chocolate dripped onto his chin. You chuckled and wiped it off with your thumb.

Besides, you don’t need to worry about that new French kid. You’re still my favourite, world champion.

Sebastian laughed, but you missed the melancholy in his eyes and the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

Being a Tifosi came with many highs and lows - any balding Italian man can tell you that. It was felt even more within the team, especially for Sebastian this year.

2019 saw the meteoric rise of Charles Leclerc, the predestined. He cemented his place as not only the future of Ferrari itself, but of the sport as well.

Charles was full of energy and light. You grew fond of the kid and it was nice to have his company amidst the turmoil surrounding the team that year.

You went into that year determined to get Sebastian his championship he so desperately craved. You were instead met by cheating rumours, bad calls, power shifting and well, an increasingly frustrated Sebastian.

Sebastian who has been chasing that championship feeling for years. Sebastian who bleeds Ferrari red. Sebastian who is determined to bring the team back to the top. Sebastian, who is not quite yours, but you devoted your red heart to.

Perhaps that’s how you ended up in this position.

Sebastian pulled you into his driver’s room after a race. The habit has raised a few eyebrows from passing crew, but none have said a word.

Nothing ever happened anyways.

Seb would sit you on his couch and you’d listen. Listen as he rambled in a heinous mix of German, Italian and English. Listen as he let out his emotions after a race and all the lows he went through that weekend.

You’d bring up some of these points to relevant crew members. It would be worked on and by the following race, it would be better. But it was never enough for Sebastian.

You understood, he was supposed to bring Ferrari back, follow in the footsteps of his mentor and hero. It was an immense pressure and responsibility that has been carried for years. Now, the Italians have put their faith in his teammate, throwing him aside like an old toy.

It was draining for you too, being subjected to this almost every weekend. It wasn’t your burden to bear, but this was Sebastian. He is still Rosso Corsa, and you weren’t one to deny a cry for help.

Singapore rolled around, one of Sebastian’s favourites. He crossed the line in first place that night. You haven’t been so happy in months.

Sebastian found you at your desk after media duties. You were still on the adrenaline high, but the tiredness began seeping back into your bones. You knew you weren’t sleeping well, the stress of the season getting to you and your eyes looked darker than ever. For Ferrari, the pain was always worth it.

Come out tonight.

Seb, I feel dead.

And the race winner is personally inviting you.

You could never resist him, which is how you have an extremely plastered Seb on your arm as you walk back to the hotel. Apparently being part of Team 5 also meant babysitting when he’s had one too many.

I LOVE FERRARI! I NEVER WANT TO LEAVE! FORZA FERRARI!

Sempre.

May 2020. F1 was still on the break. The only place you went was your home in Maranello and occasionally the factory. You hadn’t seen Sebastian in months and to be honest, you haven’t heard from him as much as you wanted to.

Then, the announcement. Sebastian Vettel to leave Ferrari by the end of the 2020 season.

It came as a shock to you. Seb’s contract was up for renewal, you knew that. But he never said anything about leaving, at least, not to your face. And to find out from Instagram, rather than from the man himself, that was a whole other issue.

You left several messages on Seb’s number over the next week, all remained unanswered. You knew he was a bit of a recluse sometimes, preferring quiet company over the glitz and glamour other drivers seemed to surround themselves with. Ignoring you however, that was unheard of.

You asked some of Seb’s mechanics, but none have heard from him. You even asked Charles, but all he received was a polite thank you message.

After a while, you gave up on contacting him. You knew better than to beg for a man’s attention, even Sebastian’s. It broke your heart to walk away, but you had to keep pushing and Ferrari needed to keep pushing.

Red Bull Ring, Austria. The first race back was a much quieter environment than what you’ve been used to. Despite wanting to stay in Maranello, mainly to stay safe but also to avoid a certain German, your boss wanted you at the races. Who were you to deny the call of the Prancing Horse.

You ignored him all weekend, refusing to make eye contact or be in his general presence at all. It was perhaps a bit petty, but you deserved to be after the last two months.

Charles placed P2, a great result from the team for the first race back. You chatted to him at your desk after the race. Charles was a young man that had raw talent, immense passion and was wise beyond his years. You were lucky to call him a friend.

Mid conversation, Charles glanced behind you. You knew exactly who was standing there, but he could wait his turn.

You finished up with Charles, giving him a hug before he left.

You stared at Seb standing awkwardly in the doorway. He shifted on his feet, for once not knowing what to say to you.

Please say something.

I have nothing to say to you. You’re the one who went radio silent for months.

I’m sorry.

You shook your head and looked away, not wanting him to see how much this affected you.

I didn’t know how to tell you.

Seb moved closer, stepping into your space. He reached out a shaky hand to yours. You gripped his, you couldn’t help it. A silent sob escaped your body.

Come with me.

You whipped around, searching his pleading eyes.

Come with me. To Aston Martin.

His other hand came up to the side of your head, cupping your cheeks and wiping away the tears on your cheek.

Come with me. I need you.

His hand brushed down the side of your neck, fingers finding the necklace he gifted all those years ago.

Team 5. That’s our home. Please.

Sebastian fiddled with the charm. He found the engraved 5 turned around, no longer facing outward like how you’ve always worn it.

You took Sebastian’s hand and pressed a tender kiss to it.

Ferrari is my home. I can’t come with you.

You dropped his hand and looked anywhere else but him. You couldn’t bear to see the tears welling in his eyes.

Please leave.

Sebastian walked out, hesitating at the door. He took a last look at you and left.

You let the cries come out. Every emotion you’ve kept the last few years came out in a tidal wave.

You felt an arm wrapping around your shoulders, recognising Charles’ hand. He helped you to the floor and let you lean against him.

I’m sorry.

You requested to be transferred to Maranello for the rest of the season, citing health concerns. The team was sad to see you go, many of them enjoying your company on long race weekends.

You only saw Sebastian in passing for the rest of the year, heard about him from mechanics, through strategy feedback and once from Charles. He knew not to press, but you didn’t miss the occasional flicker of sympathy from his eyes.

Sebastian came by the factory after the season ended, a formal goodbye to Ferrari. There was food and drinks passed around and some quick speeches made.

Sebastian was the last to come forward.

It has been my dream to race for the Scuderia since I was a boy. Here I stand now, as a Ferrari driver for six incredible seasons. It still feels like cloud nine everytime I get to walk into this beautiful place and be greeted by the passion from every single one of you. I thank you all for the hard work you’ve put in all these years.

Sebastian took a breath, as if hesitating on what to say next. You found yourself waiting, a small part of you hoping for him to say something, anything that would allow you to forgive him.

I want to say a special thank you to those who have been by my side. You know who you are. I know I haven’t always made it easy, and I am sorry for that. But I am eternally grateful for you.

Sebastian’s eyes found yours in the crowd. You found yourself fiddling with the necklace for comfort, forcing your eyes to hold back tears.

Thank you all. Forza Ferrari sempre.

The crowd erupted in cheers, applauding Seb as he made his way back into the crowd.

Your ears were ringing, vision blurry and the swell of the crowd was suddenly too much. Your feet relief on instinct, turning you around and leading you towards the exit.

A hand found your arm as you reached the lobby. Charles. The youngster took one look at you and said something about a car and to wait. Your body curled into a ball as you heaved.

This was it. Sebastian was leaving. Leaving Ferrari and the home you built in it, with him. And neither of you could muster the courage for a proper goodbye. What an irony, Ferrari who creates heroes and legends but two of their best and brightest are cowards with each other.

A sleek black Ferrari pulled up to the front. The rumble of the engine was enough to push yourself to stand and stumble your way to Charles who had opened the door for you.

You turned, taking a look at the building. Ferrari is always going to be home, but the people in it give it meaning. Sebastian left, and your sun set, but it will rise again soon.

You were at the door and hesitated for the briefest moment. That was enough for Sebastian to come running into the lobby.

You stood in the moonlight with windswept hair and teary eyes. From the distance, Sebastian could just make out the glimmer of the necklace he gave you all those years ago and the most important thought - you were still the most beautiful woman he ever got the chance to know.

He loved you. Loves you. It was real all along, not some drunken stupor that he convinced himself it was all those years ago, hiding because it would be easier than to let himself fall.

He understood. You were always by his side, and he was too late to notice it, much less be grateful for it. You can't forgive him now, and he’s caused too much harm. It would be selfish of him to keep you tethered.

He needs to let you go.

Sebastian nodded at you from his frozen place in the lobby. This is the end. You touched your hand to your heart, where your necklace fell. In another life.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel angst #f1 angst #charles leclerc #kimi raikkonen #ferrari

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winterbunz · 8 days ago

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@sir-kettle-of-countertop you ask and you shall receive!! I've been thinking about Wolke quite a bit, mostly in context of Kratzer, but you inspired me to think about this specific dynamic a little more.

Just a small naming update before I proceed: since I've been using Turmfalke and Kestrel interchangeably for her, Kestrel shall be the nickname for the unit in my main story. That should make things easier going forward when I inevitably end up making more of them :]

With that out of the way, onto the fun part! We will indeed see them interacting together... in fact, you may do so right HERE! 👇👇

(image transcript in description if hard to read)

Aren't they adorable? And, uh oh, who might that mysterious Eule be? More yapping below!!

Wolke can very much be considered part of the hospital staff at this point, since she's stationed there much more often than not. Aside from the practical benefits of having a much taller, combat-ready unit around, a predictable routine builds security - it's good for reducing stress in both the staff and anyone staying at the hospital for their recovery. Why change something that works?

Thanks to this, Wolke has gained a little bit of medical experience and formed bonds not only with the Eules, but also, if not more importantly, Kestrel. Kestrel very much appreciates that routine and Wolke herself, for her personality. She's easier to talk to than most Stars - still fairly reserved but more chatty and expressive, although she tends to have her head in the clouds... perhaps that explains the nickname. The influence the company of Eules has had on her also makes Kestrel feel a bit more comfortable around her, less nervous to give her specific orders which she has permission to do.

Wolke holds a lot of respect for Kestrel; she can understand the hardships of her job well through observation, admires her dedication, and is just simply grateful for everything she does for the Replikas in the facility especially. She even salutes Kestrel when accepting a given task or when they greet each other at the start of the shift. Kestrel never asked her to do this and she doesn't hold a military rank that would warrant that sort of formality... it's just one of the Star's mannerisms and it's kind of cute, actually.

That is to say, Kestrel is not exempt from Wolke's teasing and flirting. It's pure entertainment, making their medic all flustered, watching her face turn bright pink as she tries to hide it... if the Eules do it, why can't she? It's not her fault that some models aren't immune to a Star's killer smile-and-wink combo. She tries not to be too distracting - Kestrel already has her whole entourage taking care of that, it's quite enough for one easily-overwhelmed unit. However, she's more than eager to help fetch stuff from higher shelves for her... or pick her up so she can grab it herself. Perhaps someone else has given her a green light on that idea, someone who knows Kestrel better than anyone else...

And who could that be, you ask? A somewhat familiar face, which finally has a name and more solid features. Meet Kirsche, one of the facility's nurses and Kestrel's assistant, emotional support, maybe even her... girlfriend?? Replika yuri on MY blog? It's more likely than you think! Find out more in a dedicated post, coming to your Sektor's dashboard soon!!

Thank you so much to everyone who managed to get all the way down here and thank you once again Kettle for the idea to write about them, as well as pretty much inspiring me to draw this!!

#signalis #signalis oc #turmfalke signalis #star signalis #eule signalis #oc: kestrel #oc: wolke #oc: kirsche #michelle blorbos #michelle art #character yap #i promise i'm not delaying the eule post on purpose IT JUST HAPPENED AGAIN OKAY #they need to cook a little more. i'm halfway done with the art #this was just way too funny not to draw

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 year ago

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Describing Scene Locations

Anonymous asked: I've been writing for a decade, mostly short stories, and have recently started writing a fantasy set in the 17th century. My setting is a world pretty much like ours, but with made-up names for specific towns and whatnot. The characters are pirates, and a few are non-human. I'm finding it difficult to figure out where certain plot points take place when the story is mostly character-driven. There are parts where they need to be on land, but apart from 'vague port/island', I don't know what else to do with it. (Am I overthinking this?) I suppose my question is: How specific do secondary locations have to be for it to be immersive and realistic (for their world) without it being lackluster or overdone? I don't want it all be "it's a beach with a village," but adding a giant seaside kingdom seems overkill if it's only mentioned in passing once or twice. Thank you so much for taking the time to answer these - this whole blog is a gift, really.

[Ask edited for length]

First, thank you... that is very kind of you to say! ♥

So, I think it really helps to think of your story in terms of scenes, and to think of each scene almost like a scene in a play. Your scene's setting is like the stage in the play, and the amount of description is the amount of scenery and props on the stage.

If you've been to plays, you've probably noticed that the scenery can be very minimal or very elaborate, depending on the needs of the show:

With fiction, it works the same way. How little or how much you describe the scenery (setting) depends on the needs of the scene, but you do need to make sure to give the reader a sense of place. Looking at the first image, just with the little bit of scenery that's there, we know this scene is taking place in a home, perhaps a living room. If the two men were just sitting on chairs with no other scenery, we wouldn't have that sense of place.

However, that doesn't mean that any of your scenes need to be set in sprawling seaside kingdoms. There are all sorts of land-based settings for pirates:

-- bustling port town like Port Royal or Tortuga -- coastal village, town, or city -- isolated island or cove -- small fishing village -- seaside castles or estates -- pirate's stronghold on a hidden island/cove/cave/bay -- tropical jungle or rainforest -- remote island -- colonial outpost -- swamps and marshlands -- rural countryside -- ancient ruins

There are all sorts of reasons pirates might go ashore in these places:

-- to resupply (food, water, liquor, gunpowder, ammunition) -- to buy specific items (weapons, clothing, equipment for ship) -- to sell, trade, deliver, hide, or bury loot -- to hunt and gather resources -- to recruit crew -- to maintenance, repair, or refit the ship -- to meet with allies, informants, business partners, etc. -- to visit friends/acquaintances -- to avail themselves of various goods and services -- to drink in a bar, gamble and carouse with friends -- to enjoy some much needed rest and recreation -- to learn or exchange information -- to seek medical treatment/medicine/remedies -- to seek legal assistance or meet to discuss legal matters -- to "case" a potential target for a raid -- to visit family and love interests

Within these settings and potential errands, there are many specific settings you could use:

-- the docks of a bustling port -- the tavern of a coastal village -- a quiet moonlit cove where pirates are laying low -- the great hall of a seaside castle -- a masquerade ball at a country estate -- the crumbled ruins of an ancient civilization in an isolated jungle -- at a freshwater lagoon on a remote island during resource stop -- busy market at a colonial outpost -- fisherman's shanty in a quiet bayou -- an official's luxury town home in a big city -- the coastal farm belonging to a family member

So... having the different locations in mind, how much or how little do you describe them? Once again, all you have to do is create a sense of place for the reader. If your pirates are having a heated argument on the docks of a busy port town, you may at least want to give a vague description of the docks, whether it's night or day, what the weather's like, how crowded it is, and maybe a brief sampling of what the crowd is doing, notable sensory details (sounds, smells, visuals) etc. You can also weave those details into the narrative in a way that serves a dual purpose. For example, maybe in the argument, one pirate gestures to a toothless fish monger and uses them as an example in a point they're trying to make. Not only is this a necessary part of the dialogue, but it also fills in some of the scenery detail. Or, maybe instead, they're perusing spices in a bustling seaside market while they talk/argue quietly. Here are some posts from my description master list that will hopefully help further:

The Right Amount of Description (5 Tips!) The 3 Fundamental Truths of Description Description: Style vs Excess/Deficiency How to Make Your Description More Vivid Adding Description to Your WritingWeaving Details into the Story Guide: Showing vs Telling When “Telling” is Okay

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

#wqaadvice

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year ago

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Never Have I Ever - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Civilian Contractor! Reader (Callsign: Dove)

Length: 3.2k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Female Reader with a Callsign, but no Physical Description or Name; Not Necessarily Healthy Decisions/Coping Mechanisms; Shy! Reader; Lots of Jokes About Innocence; Slow Burn; Coworkers to Friends to Lovers; Oblivious Idiots; Excessive Pining

Summary: Dove is tired of being stereotyped as the nice, quiet girl who's so innocent it hurts. So, who does she call to help her? Hangman.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Master List

It was always the quiet ones, they said. It was always the ones that you least expected. And Dove, the Dagger Squad’s resident civilian contractor, was just that.

She was quiet, shy, and had taken several weeks to actually accept an invite out to the Hard Deck with the rest of the squad. But now that she was standing in front of him with a determined, hardened stare, Hangman knew that he was going to get a headache. Or maybe have a heart attack. Or both.

And here he thought that he would get to enjoy his whiskey in peace on his first night of leave.

“You want me to do what?” he asked as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“I want you to teach me how to be like you,” Dove replied, like it was a common request.

“An asshole?”

“I guess, sort of,” Dove stated softly. “I know that I have a rep of being a . . .”

“Goody two shoes?” Hangman offered with a teasing smirk, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah,” Dove replied a bit tensely. Straightening up, she added, “And I’d like to change that.”

“Why?” Hangman asked, setting down his glass.

He looked her up and down, only finding more evidence to prove his point. She wore jean shorts that were perhaps a little short—for a nunnery. Her shirt was a plain graphic tee, leaving everything except the very top of her collarbone to the imagination. And whatever make up she wore didn’t make her any less innocent or doe-eyed.

“Because no offense, Dove, but you really live up to your callsign.”

“So do you, Hangman,” Dove replied, staring him down with a defiant expression.

He sighed, slowly rubbing his hand down his face. Well, here comes the headache. Taking another sip of his whiskey, Jake turned to Dove, trying to read her. Sure, he had made a few comments about how she could live a little. Loosen up and enjoy herself for once. But he had a feeling that her request wasn’t just a one-night proposition.

And that quietly unnerved him.

“You want me to help you stop being so innocent?”

“I’m not innocent,” she snapped back.

“Alright, but you are a goody two shoes,” Hangman drawled and Dove didn’t move to argue with that point.

“So, do you have any ideas?” Dove asked after a moment, resting her hands on the table.

“You heard of Never Have I Ever?”

“Of course, I have,” she scoffed.

“Alright, well, we’re going to play a game of Never Have I Ever.”

“That’s your big plan?” Dove questioned, not looking impressed.

“You wanted my expertise on the subject,” Hangman reminded her, getting up and leading her in the direction of the Dagger Squad.

“And how many times are we going to play that?” Dove huffed, following after him.

“I don’t know. Ten?”

“That’s it?”

“One hundred then,” Hangman stated, turning to face Dove, whose eyes widened a fraction as he turned to face her. His smirk widened and he leaned in a little closer, hoping to unnerve her to back out of this ridiculous idea. “Unless you think you can’t handle it?”

“I can handle it,” she growled with determination shining in her eyes.

“Then let’s begin.”

~~~~~

#1 - Smoked a Cigarette

“Are you sure about this, Dove?” Bob asked, opening up his pack.

They were standing outside the Hard Deck together. Hangman hung back a step, there to be a witness and a fireman, if necessary. Bob shared a concerned look with Hangman, who shook his head in response. Turning back to Dove, who was glaring at the floor, Bob tried to reason with her.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Just hand me a cigarette, Bob,” she demanded, holding out her hand.

Bob tentatively handed over a cigarette to Dove, who took it quickly but seemed to pause when Bob took out his lighter. Bob lit up his own cigarette and took a drag before handing the lighter over to Dove. She took it firmly but seemed to struggle to light a flame. And Hangman could only watch her struggle to light her cigarette so many times before he finally stepped in. Taking the lighter from her, he lit it with a flick of his thumb before holding it out to Dove.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Hangman told her. “Just copy Bob.”

Dove held the cigarette over the flame and slowly brought her lips to the other end of it. She took a drag like Bob did, but unlike Bob, she immediately started coughing. Hangman sighed and took the cigarette from her hand as she continued to cough.

“You alright?” Hangman asked her, putting out the cigarette. Pulling out a cup of water, he placed it down in front of Dove.

“How are your lungs still functioning?” Dove coughed out, directing her question at Bob, who shrugged in response. “Jesus Christ!”

“Well, one down, ninety-nine left to go,” Hangman stated calmly, typing away at his phone. “What’s next?”

~~~~~

# 2 - Done a Shot of Tequila

“You’ve never actually done a shot of tequila? You’ve spent the last five years of your life in the Southwest,” Hangman pointed out, causing Dove to give him a sharp look.

“She’s never actually finished a shot of tequila,” Bob explained, causing Dove to sigh.

“I don’t like tequila, alright?” she mumbled quietly.

“Then why are you drinking it?” Hangman asked her as Penny placed a shot glass down. Leaning forward a bit more, he added, “Don’t do this stuff if you don’t actually want to do it.”

“I do want to do it,” Dove stated firmly.

“You just said—”

“—I want to do this.”

Dove and Hangman had a bit of a staring contest before he sighed and broke it off. Penny filled up the shot glass and placed a saltshaker on the bar before handing Dove a wedge of lime. She offered Dove a small smile before shooting Hangman and Bob warning looks to watch her before heading off to serve more customers.

“You don’t have to do this,” Hangman reminded Dove gently.

“I need to,” she replied quietly.

Dove stared down at the shot for a moment, resting her hands on the bartop. She looked like she was going to walk away for a moment until she suddenly grabbed the shot glass and knocked it back. Wincing and gagging, Dove shoved the lime into her mouth, sucking on the tart wedge dramatically. Jake leaned over the bar and grabbed a few more lime wedges, which Dove took gratefully.

“Alright, what else can we do here tonight?”

~~~~~

# 3 - Stolen Toilet Paper

Dove stepped out of the womens’ bathroom and held up a roll of toilet paper, shooting Hangman an annoyed look as he gave her a thumbs up in return.

“This is the best that you could come up with? Really?”

“I’m working on it. Trust the process.”

Dove sighed and handed him the roll of toilet paper before walking off, shaking her head. Hangman set the toilet paper down before walking after her.

“We need some help,” Dove stated, heading towards the Daggers.

~~~~~

# 4 - Gone Commando

“How do you feel?” Phoenix asked as Dove stepped out of the womens’ room.

“Like I should have worn a different pair of shorts for tonight,” Dove replied, awkwardly pulling at her jean shorts.

“Just do a lap and put them back on,” Hangman suggested, causing Dove to nod.

She walked off to do a lap of the bar, allowing Phoenix to turn to Hangman with slightly narrowed eyes. Hangman promptly ignored her gaze, watching Dove as she walked around, making sure that no one messed with her. There was no way that Dove would actually be able to talk her way out of most situations in her current state.

“What’s going on with her?” Phoenix asked quietly.

“I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

“So, why are you doing this then?”

“She asked me to help her and because I’m a gentleman, Phoenix, I decided to help her,” Hangman replied, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“If you’re planning on humiliating her later—”

“—And why would I do that?” Hangman asked Phoenix defensively, causing Phoenix to purse her lips together.

“You made fun of Bob in the beginning. And they’re pretty similar. Except Dove doesn’t hold her own as well as Bob does in situations like this.” Phoenix turned forward again as Dove began to walk back over. “I just want to make sure that she doesn’t get hurt. She’s obviously going through something.”

Hangman didn't respond to Phoenix and simply stared ahead until Dove walked back over.

“I’m never doing that again,” Dove sighed, heading straight to the bathroom.

“Did you want to do the same with your bra just to knock another one off the list?” Jake suggested, but Dove shook her head.

“No, I can’t.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve done that before. Plenty of times,” Dove explained, opening the door to the bathroom.

“Oh.”

Phoenix glanced up at Hangman, who did not meet her gaze once again.

~~~~~

# 5 - Eaten Food Off of Someone Else

“Don’t look at me while I do this,” Dove pleaded with Hangman, who stared up at the night sky.

“It’s just a French fry, Dove. And you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

“No, you’re right,” she sighed. “It’s just a French fry.”

Hangman kept his eyes focused on the stars. Dove leaned down and took the French fry that he placed on his bare stomach between her teeth. She seemed to struggle to pick it up without actually touching him and Hangman could see her squirming a bit before she finally grabbed it properly. Standing up, she chewed the fry as Jake sat up.

“You want to switch?”

~~~~~

# 6 - Had Someone Else Eat Food Off of You

Dove struggled to swallow her squeak when Jake swooped his head down and ate the French fry that she placed on her stomach without hesitation. Casually pulling out his phone as he chewed the French fry, Jake typed the latest challenge onto the list. Dove slowly sat up, pulling her shirt back down bashfully.

“You’ve done that before then?” she asked quietly, standing up from the couch.

“Yeah, a few times,” Hangman dismissed with a shrug of his shoulders. “What’s next?”

~~~~~

# 7 - Touched the Bar Floor with Your Bare Foot

Dove balanced herself with a hand on the table and slowly placed her foot down on the bar floor, cringing as she felt the sticky surface. Even most of the other Daggers were cringing as she held it there for a moment.

“That was so gross,” Dove huffed, pulling her foot back up. Leaning on the table, she shot the man who came up with that challenge a glare. “You’re dead to me, Fanboy.”

“My actual suggestion was lick it so—”

“—You are disgusting,” Payback cut off his wizzo.

“Come on, the beach shower isn't too far from here,” Hangman offered, holding out his hand, and helping Dove hop on one leg out the side door.

~~~~~

# 8 - Flashed Someone

Phoenix and Dove returned to the Dagger table from the bathroom.

“I can confirm that she does, in fact, have breasts,” Phoenix stated calmly, causing Dove to grow bashful and avoid eye contact with the other Daggers.

~~~~~

# 9 - Shotgunned a Beer

“Alright, just hold it like that for now,” Jake instructed Dove as he handed the beer can to her. “Now, when you’re ready, you’re going to turn it vertically and drink from the hole that I just made and quickly open the top while you do that.”

“Okay,” Dove agreed, running through the steps in her head. “Do I just go then?”

“Here, I’ll show you,” Rooster offered, stepping onto the sand beside Dove.

Dove watched Rooster with an edge of apprehension as he easily shotgunned his beer, growing only more nervous. It was like he was drinking water. And Dove wasn’t convinced that she would even finish half of it. She stared down at her own beer for a moment before glancing up at Hangman with a bit of a tentative look.

“Bradshaw was just showing off,” Hangman scoffed, shooting Rooster a look before turning back to Dove. “Don’t worry about it. Just do what you can.”

Dove nodded and slowly brought her mouth to the beer can before tilting it on its side. She struggled to open it while drinking for a moment, but eventually managed it. Dove took a few gulps before she quickly pulled the can away from her mouth, letting the remaining beer pour out onto the sand. Jake took the beer can from her as she wiped her mouth and neck.

“You alright?” Jake asked her.

“Yeah. It’s a good thing that I don’t like this shirt though,” she sighed, pulling at the fabric. “And that it’s not seethrough right now.”

“Yeah,” Jake agreed, trailing off quietly.

~~~~~

# 10 - Played Darts

“Alright, now this isn’t like throwing a baseball. There’s no big wind up. It’s just a flick,” Hangman coached Dove, who listened closely. “And I won’t tell you how to aim too much because I’m sure that you’re already calculating gravity and air resistance and all of that in your head. So, just try it out.”

Hangman handed her three darts and motioned for her to take a throw. Dove stepped up to the line and prepared to make her first throw when two men walked over.

“Can you teach the Girl Scout how to throw later? We’d like to play,” one of them stated gruffly, causing Dove to lower her hand slowly.

“You can wait or go to a different bar,” Hangman retorted back. “We were here first.”

“She obviously doesn’t even know how to throw. We want to play an actual game.”

“Congratulations,” Jake replied sarcastically. “We were still here first.”

Dove was about to tell Jake to just drop it and let the two men play to keep the peace, but he was prepared to dig his heels in.

“How about the man who scores the highest on one throw gets to stay?” the man suggested with a smirk.

“Fine by me.”

Handing over a dart, Hangman tilted his chin up with a challenging expression in his eye. The man took his shot first and Dove watched the dart land on the board. It wasn't in the center, but it must have been a decent shot because the man turned to his friend with a smirk before turning back to Jake.

Hangman glared at the man and stepped up a little bit before throwing the dart without looking. Dove couldn’t help the sudden and extremely warm feeling that came over her when she saw it land dead center. Holding her darts to her chest, she glanced over to see the men staring a bit dumbfounded at the board.

“Now, move along,” Jake warned them.

After they walked off with their tails between their legs, Jake collected his two darts.

“Go ahead,” he replied, as if nothing happened.

Dove nodded and turned to the board again. A bit unfocused, she tossed the first dart and winced when it bounced off the wood with an awkward clack.

“Don’t tell Penny about that.”

“Just relax. And loosen your stance some more.”

Dove let out some of the tension in her body and focused on the dart board. Lining up her shot, Dove ran through some quick calculations in her head before she tossed her second dart. It landed on the board and Jake stepped forward, nodding in approval.

“Not bad at all. But you need to turn more.”

Dove held her breath a bit as Jake quickly and methodically moved her hips and shoulders into place. She looked down at her feet as he moved her left foot back with his own, her grip on her dart tightening just a bit more.

“Alright, now try again.”

The whack of the dart hitting the wall caused Dove to grow a bit embarrassed for a moment. But she let out a breath to steady herself and lined up another shot. Taking a moment to center herself, she tossed the dart and smiled when it landed on the board.

“Land one more and you’re done,” Jake stated, handing her another dart.

Licking her lips, Dove lined up her last shot and threw it, landing on the board once again. She held up her hands victoriously and laughed before turning to Jake, who offered her a kind smile in return.

“Thank you,” she whispered out, giving him a quick hug.

“Any time.”

Jake released her from the hug and Dove moved to collect the darts to put them away. Clearing his throat, he looked at the floor before turning back to her as she walked back over.

~~~~~

# 11 - Not Tipped

“I feel bad about this,” Dove sighed, signing the receipt.

“It’s three dollars. I think that Penny will forgive you this one time,” Jake assured her.

“I’ll forgive you,” Penny stated, walking over to them. “Especially since you’re tutoring Amelia in math. And you refuse to take a normal rate for it.”

Dove nodded with a small smile and passed the receipt over to Penny with an apologetic expression. Jake got called over by Coyote for something, leaving Penny and Dove alone for a few moments.

“You sure that you’re alright, Dove?” Penny asked her softly.

“I’m fine, Penny.”

“You sure? You’re a nice girl. And there’s nothing wrong with being a nice person. I don’t have to throw people like you out of the bar, for one thing.”

“People take advantage of nice people,” Dove replied quietly, putting her card away.

“Just be careful, alright?”

“I will be.”

~~~~~

# 12 - Danced on a Table

Dove took Jake’s hand and stepped up onto the table. It was after hours at the Hard Deck and Penny had allowed her to dance up on the table for a little bit before they all headed home. Dove turned to face the Dagger Squad and grew a bit shy with all of them staring at her. Looking around like she didn’t know what to do, Dove nervously played with her shirt.

“Now what?”

“Hold on a second,” Rooster replied, jogging over to the piano.

He played a familiar tune and Dove started to do an awkward dance for a few seconds. But when people started clapping, she folded and quickly moved to hop off the table. Jake offered her a hand as she stepped down onto a chair.

“Alright, safe travels home everyone,” Penny called out, officially ending the night.

“We’ll pick up again tomorrow?” Dove suggested to Jake, sliding on her shoes.

“Yeah, just text me when you’re ready.”

“Thanks for doing this again,” she replied, getting to her feet.

“Don’t mention it.”

She nodded and smiled at him before turning to head out with Phoenix and Bob. Jake watched her go for a moment before moving to head home himself.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman fanfiction #hangman fic #hangman series #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months ago

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Can u not tag malleus or other characters when u hate on them pls it makes me sad

Hello, and thank you for reaching out about this! I do apologize for your discomfort 💦

I believe that this ask comes as a result of this post, as that’s the most recent post I can think of which might match the description of “hating on Malleus”. You’ll note that there is now a Malleus Draconica critical tag, which you can block if you choose to. This way, you won’t come across it while browsing my blog.

I’ve also gone ahead and retroactively tagged other related posts (although they’re mostly posts from the past year or two). There are similar tags for other characters, such as #Vil Schoenheit critical and the like. These tags are put on posts in which I discuss why I don’t like a particular character. I hope you can use these tags and the blocking feature to best curate your own experience on this blog.

The reason why I elected to make a new tag rather than exclude my posts altogether from the main tags is because I don’t think that it’s conducive to shut away “negativity” about a character when Twst is a game that actively promotes characters of a dubious nature. It encourages us to embrace both the good and the bad aspects of its large cast of colorful characters—so I don’t think there’s anything wrong with pointing out their flaws or why someone might not like X or Y for them. This can make some people uncomfortable, certainly. However, I don’t think that’s a reason to prevent sharing of this critique with others who might gain new insight from it. I say this as someone who has gained insight myself by reading about characters I dislike, and someone who has been told that their works have entirely changed people’s minds about certain characters. It goes both ways.

Even if someone dislikes a character I happen to like, I find it helpful to read conflicting opinions to gain a fuller perspective. I want to give others that opportunity as well. I realize that not everyone may share this sentiment though, which is why there’s always the option to block what you don’t wish to see. (Prioritize your own comfort!!) I think people should be able to choose not to look at content that upsets them, but I don’t think it makes sense for this content to be hidden from others who may be interested in seeing “the other side”, if that makes sense!

I also believe that fandom—especially as of late—seems to conflate critique with hate, to the point where the slightest criticism of a character or content is labelled as “hate”. This can lead to a dangerous area where anything that isn’t immediate and glowing praise is deemed “bad”. That’s not an area I want this fandom to hit, as it would inevitably limit our ideas (although this also applies to all other fandoms).

In reality, “hate” and “critique” are NOT synonyms of each other. Hate is hostile and exists purely to shame or to tear down the content in question. It doesn’t consider the other side or care to ask questions. Critique is judgment or opinion of that content, and it is usually meant to help improve the content. It has us ask “why?” and “how?” To put it simply, hate is “you’ll never be better” and critique is “you can do better”.

In this instance, perhaps the previous anon’s statements (“[…] now I'm a hater. Like wtf. He’s so incompetent.”) are hate. (Even so, they’re entitled to feel the way that they do, even if the way the opinion was expressed was over-the-top.) I do think I was emotional in my response, but I don’t think I expressed myself in a hateful manner overall. I opened with what is arguably a defense of his behavior and then went on to point out a legitimate character flaw Malleus has and how not everyone reading those vignettes would perceive that flaw in a gracious manner. It’s not blind hatred; it’s valid critique and it comes from a place of wanting to see him improve as a person. I try to not character bash because no one (myself included) feels good seeing others hating on their favorites. Malleus has flaws, and so do all the other characters. Those flaws should be acknowledged, and it’s up to the individual to determine whether those flaws result in liking or disliking that particular character.

I’m not saying that everyone should agree with my stance on the Malleus Dorm Uniform vignettes or how I feel about Malleus in general. What I am saying is that not all negative statements made about a character should automatically be categorized as “hate”. I worry that if we stretch the definition of the word too loose, it could become a situation where any and all critique is silenced 💦 What happens when no critique is allowed? Everyone begins to think the same way or has to be fearful of expressing an opinion, and fandom becomes so much less fun for everyone involved… And, worse still, the canon content itself can feel confident resting on its laurels and not actually put forth the effort to “be better” (since there’s no negative feedback coming from the fandom).

Again, I encourage you to curate your online experience!! Do whatever makes you the most comfortable. If you don’t like seeing something, there is zero shame in blocking it or taking whatever steps necessary to disengage. Lastly, please take care to not to overgeneralize what counts as “hate”!

Thank you for your time 🙇‍♀️ I know I probably rambled for way longer than necessary cnsbjwvuwgejbe

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #advice #blog update #feedback for the writing raven #Malleus Draconia critical #Malleus Draconia

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aziraphales-library · 6 months ago

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Hiiiii, i hope you're all having an amazing day on whichever day this gets seen, i owe you my life for running this incredible blog 💛💛💛

Would you happen to know of any meet cute human au fics in which Crowley is a cat dad? (preferably M or E rated, but im not that picky) There's just something very endearing to me about Crowley owning a cat that i can't explain...

Thank you in advance for your help!! 💛

Hello! Here are some fics in which Crowley has a cat...

with the help of a cat, or two by whicorzoo (G)

In which the cat in the window of the flat right across from Crowley's is unfairly perfect, so on a particularly whimsical night, he decides to put up a sign in his window to tell his neighbor as much. By morning, he's forgotten about it, until he sees it in his window and regrets the decision entirely. He expects to have his cool, intimidating facade never taken seriously again. He does not expect a response.

Pass the Star by mageofthepeople (E)

An Ineffable Wives roller derby AU Azalea Fell meets Antoinette Crowley at her first roller derby bout with a new league. After an incident leads to a trip to A&E, the two are drawn to one another but Crowley is reluctant to potentially ruin a great friendship for something more.

But, soft! by On1OccasionFork (M)

With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls, For stony limits cannot hold love out; And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me. -Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene ii Crowley's life is going well. He's got his shop, his friends, and a new flat with a balcony perfect for a few plants. That's when things start to get complicated.

love like yours (will surely come my way) by CCs_World (T)

Dr Zira Fell is a new professor of theology at St Beryl's University. His first day there he meets the mysterious and enchanting Dr AJ Crowley, an art history professor and a painter. They almost immediately become friends, and spend most of their time getting lunch together, talking, drinking wine, making art, and falling slowly in love with one another. Featuring cameos of everyone's favorite (and least favorite) characters, gratuitous descriptions of paintings, long text messaging conversations, and one cranky cat.

Or Be Nice by charlottemadison (E)

Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbours. And...it does not go at all well, until it does. A human AU in which Aziraphale is a bookseller, Crowley is a drummer, and they are both petty disasters in the worst/best way. +++ “So what’s your deal?” “My-my-my deal?” Aziraphale stammered. “I’m a bookseller, is my deal.” “Oh,” Crowley replied, sounding as uninterested as it was possible to sound. “It’s just, I couldn’t help overhearing, and --” Aziraphale swallowed hard. “You really are an accomplished musician. But I thought -- for after 11PM -- perhaps we could reach some arrangement?” “Arrangement?” Aziraphale felt his his smile turning forced. “Such as, perhaps, playing the drums *before* eleven? Instead of after?” Crowley stared blankly at him. In fact he stared for so long that Aziraphale briefly wondered if he'd lapsed into ancient Greek again, which he was known to do in bad dreams or during panic attacks.

Whickber Street by Caedmon (E)

Anthony J. Crowley doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy. He’s finally quit his old job and is opening his childhood dream: a comic book shop. All of the neighbors are great, but the bookseller seems to hate him… Aziraphale Eastgate grew up in his great grandfather’s shop. Now he runs it and lives above it. He loves everything about his life on Whickber Street…. but the new proprietor down the street has him terribly, terribly vexed. Sparks fly when these two meet, and Aziraphale vows to hate him forever. Fergus, meanwhile, sets a timer. Looks like Cupid has come to Soho.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #ineffable wives #human au #crowley has a cat #mod d

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demigod-shenanigans · 8 days ago

Text

Leo’s night off

Summary: Leo had been working on the Argo II’s engine non-stop for four days—and he’d been making great progress, thank you very much—but for some strange reason, his friends seemed convinced he needed things like “breaks” and “fresh air” and “fun”.

He’d reluctantly resigned himself to his fate of being dragged out of Bunker Nine for movie night once a week. He loved his friends. He liked spending time with them. When he wasn’t on tight schedules for impossible building projects that had the fate of the world riding on them, he was very much in favor of having fun.

Unfortunately, it was Piper’s turn to pick the movie, and her idea of fun apparently involved paranormal horror.

…at least he and Jason were suffering together, he supposed.

Word Count: 7.4k

Rating: Teen and Up (could probably be Gen tbh, rated that way for a bit of cursing and very vague descriptions of a few horror movie scenes)

My @pjo-equinox-solstice-exchange for @chaosdoesnotdefineme

I really hope you’ll enjoy this fic! Your prompt was pretty vague, so I went with some lost trio focused shenanigans.

I did check your blog and saw you’d reblogged a bunch of Valgrace art, so I’m hoping it was okay to include the ship, but I kept it relatively minor to be safe, with trio friendship being the main focus of the fic. Most of it can be read as them just being physically affectionate with each other. Also, you don’t currently allow gifts to your Ao3 account, so if you do want me to use the gift function over there, you’ll have to toggle that on first!

Anyway, that’s enough preamble from me, I think! Happy reading!

———

To say Leo had lost track of time would have, perhaps, been the understatement of the century. He’d been working on the Argo II’s engine for so long that he was no longer sure what time of day—or, quite frankly, what day of the week it was. His siblings came and went however they saw fit between their other obligations, helping as much as they could, but Leo wouldn’t have let any of them help with this part anyway.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them to handle complicated machinery—they were all children of Hephaestus, after all—but it was like that saying about too many cooks spoiling the broth. Except in this case, the cooks were inventors who each had their own ideas about the best way to build powerful ship engines, and the broth was an extremely delicate balance of highly explosive fluids that might wipe half of camp off the map if anyone so much as looked at it wrong.

Teamwork was great for lots of tasks, especially when it came to projects as big as the Argo, but this just wasn’t one of them.

Therefore, Leo had been working in the engine room mostly alone for a while, using a borrowed plate from the camp kitchens to summon food whenever his stomach started to complain and taking sips of water from a borrowed cup when he started to feel dizzy. The magic dishes were really handy. Maybe he should ask if he could add some to the Argo’s inventory for the journey. That seemed much easier than figuring out how to stock up on supplies when there was a good chance of supply runs ending in monsters chasing them out of random foreign supermarkets.

Unlike eating and drinking, sleep was somewhat of a myth at this stage of building the Argo. Thankfully, Leo didn’t actually need tons of breaks while he was working. One neat thing about being a child of Hephaestus was that whenever Leo went into Project Hyperfocus Mode, he actually didn’t need much to sustain himself in general. He could go days without sleeping if it was necessary—and considering their looming deadline with the Argo? Man, was it necessary.

That Piper and Jason weren’t huge fans of this particular power of his was probably the camp’s worst-kept secret. Jason regularly dropped by to have lunch with him because apparently he was worried whether Leo remembered the concept of “lunch” existed, which was both extremely rude and also completely fair. Piper, for her part, had dragged Leo out of the Bunker more times than he could count, insisting he needed things like “fresh air” and “to see the sun more than once a week”.

What did she think he was, a wilting houseplant?

The one regular appointment they’d successfully talked Leo into to ensure he got out of Bunker Nine and did something fun regardless of how busy his week was was movie night on Saturdays. There were a few reasons for this.

1) Jason’s knowledge of and taste in movies was absolutely abysmal, and as his best friend, it was basically Leo’s sacred duty to fix this. 2) They rotated who picked the movie, so he finally had an excuse to make Piper watch all of the Transformers movies with him. And, perhaps most importantly, 3) they’d chosen to have Movie Night at the Zeus cabin, so they got to piss off Jason’s absentee sort-of dad as an added bonus.

Yeah, yeah, and Leo supposed that maybe it was also just nice that he got to spend some quality time with his friends and could give his whirring brain a bit of a pre-scheduled break.

Not that he’d ever tell that to Jason and Piper, though. They’d abuse the hell out of that knowledge to schedule even more weekly activities, and then Leo would never finish the ship in time for their trip.

“The world ended because I had too many board game nights and video game sessions with my friends” would probably not fly with the Judges of the Underworld.

All this was to say that, with Movie Night being scheduled and all, Leo probably shouldn’t have been surprised that one of his friends may show up to drag him out of the engine room for the event. But, well… there was the whole matter of him losing track of time (if he’d ever had track of time to begin with, which could be put into question more than a little).

So, when Piper waltzed into the engine room, loudly proclaiming, “yo, Repair Boy, put your tools away, it’s your night off!”, Leo startled so badly that he nearly did make the engine explode by accident.

Leo cursed, moving frantically to put out the small fire he’d started.

“Gods, Pipes, what did I tell you about sneaking up on me like that when I’m working?”

“Not to do it because it’s dangerous?” Piper asked innocently. “Hey, if anything, you should take this as a compliment! It means I completely trust you not to blow us both up, even by accident!” She winked at him. “Now come on, we’re gonna miss dinner, and if we do, Jason’s gonna pick the snacks all by himself. You know how that will end.”

Leo shuddered at the memory of the dried fruit chips, beef jerky and unseasoned popcorn that Jason had picked out the one and only time he’d been solely responsible for the snacks. After that traumatizing incident, they (Leo and Piper) had unanimously decided the three of them would pick all of their snacks together going forward. But if the camp store was closed by the time they got there… well, avoiding a repeat of that particular snack incident was as great a motivator as any for Leo to try and finish up as soon as possible.

“Yeah, no thanks.” Leo paused. “Hang on. Isn’t it, like, Thursday? Movie night is on Saturdays.”

Piper looked at him, appalled. “It is Saturday. I’m afraid to even ask, but how long have you been in here?”

Leo winced. “Wednesday? I think?”

“You think?”

“Listen, I’m shit enough at keeping track of what day it is when I have an actual schedule like we did at Wilderness. Here? Free rein, Beauty Queen. You’re lucky I even know what month it is.”

He fastened the last few components on the part of the engine he’d been working on, then started collecting his tools and stowing them away in his tool belt, since him leaving the Bunker was a thing that was definitely going to happen now.

A shadow of guilt crossed Piper’s face. “I should have checked on you sooner, but I knew Jason dropped by regularly, and with the drama we’ve had at the Aphrodite cabin this week, I kind of didn’t realize just how long it’s been since you showed up for a meal.” She bit her lip. “Jason didcome see you, right?”

“Oh, yeah, he totally did. Not sure how long ago it was, but we’ve eaten together twice since I started working on the engine earlier this week.” Leo strategically neglected to mention that he’d sort of promised Jason to go take a nap in an actual bed after their second lunch and then just… hadn’t. Piper didn’t need to know that.

“Good. I’m glad. I’m still sorry I didn’t look out for you properly this week, though.”

“Eh. It’s fine. You’ve annoyed me out of the Bunker plenty of times since I started working on the ship. You’ll be forgiven for slacking off for one week.” Leo grinned at her. He wiped his hands off on a piece of cloth he’d pulled out of his tool belt, rechecked that all the engine compartments were stable and not at an imminent risk of exploding one last time, then gave her his full attention. “Now, I wanna hear about your cabin drama. I miss all the fun stuff while I’m holed up in here.”

“You wouldn’t miss nearly as much if you spent a bit more time outside,” Piper pointed out, but then she told him, anyway. “My siblings have been arguing a bunch. It’s been a mess.”

“Yeah? How big of a mess are we talking?”

“It honestly seemed like a stupid issue to me, which didn’t help my ability to manage it. Calix and Mitchell showed up to breakfast in the same outfit a few days ago, and they both got upset about it. Somehow, this devolved into an all-out sibling war. There were factions and everything.” Piper rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “Shockingly, me snapping and yelling ‘who cares?’did not help. It just made everyone mad at me on top of being mad at each other. I’m starting to think that I may not be cut out for this whole head counselor business.”

Leo snorted. “Hey, don’t look at me! I’m pretty sure I was only elected head counselor of the Hephaestus cabin because my siblings knew I’d be way too busy to check whether anyone was doing their chores—not that I would have cared much about it either way. I doubt you’re anywhere near as bad at this as me.” He elbowed Piper. “So, did you get it sorted out, or do I need to prepare myself to dodge love curses and lethal hair brush throws at dinner?”

“I couldn’t get it sorted out. I had to ask Drew for help.”

“Oh gods.”

“She’s not…” Piper shook her head. “I mean, she did look very smug about the whole thing, but Drew knows her stuff when it comes to these things. Had the whole matter sorted in two minutes by giving Mitchell a shirt to go with the pants that ‘compliments the color of his eyes’ and pairing Calix’ shirt with a different pair of pants and a belt.” Her voice held something like begrudging respect for her sister, which Leo thought was weird considering the way their sisterhood had started out. Then again, his siblings were basically his construction crew. He wasn’t exactly an expert on normal family dynamics. “I may not have liked the way Drew ran the cabin,” Piper continued, “but she was right that I don’t get some of the things my siblings care about. I’m not planning to suddenly, like, get obsessed with expensive designer clothes or anything—there’s a reason I’ve never liked that kind of stuff—but I’ll admit that I could stand to be a bit more respectful of my siblings’ interests. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I was genuinely glad Drew was around to help out with this.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done to my friend?” Leo teased, pinching one of Piper’s cheeks with his fingers and gently pulling it sideways like it was a mask that he was expecting to come off.

“Leo! Ew!” Piper yelped, swatting his arm and then wiping at the grease stain he’d left on her cheek. “Okay, seriously, we need to get going. You desperately need a shower before dinner, and we were already going to be late.”

“Are you saying that I stink?”

“You’ve been hanging around in Bunker Nine for, what, more than three days now? Do you really want me to answer that?” Piper asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “Besides, you’re covered in oil.”

Leo looked down at his oily, soot-stained work overall and winced. “…fair point.”

~~~ By the time Leo had showered, brushed his teeth and made his way to the dining pavilion in clean, comfortable clothes, he was starting to get seriously tired. That always happened when he came out of Project Hyperfocus Mode.

If this was his body trying to give him a sigh, Leo was expertly ignoring it.

He made his way over to the Zeus table and slid onto the bench next to Jason pretty much automatically.

“Hey Superman. Fancy meeting you here. How’s it going?” he asked, immediately digging into the cheeseburger he’d summoned. Man, he was way hungrier than he’d realized.

“Hey.” Jason smiled nervously at him, the way he always did when Leo insisted on sitting at his table. “It’s great to see you, don’t get me wrong, but are you sure we should be pushing our luck with the seating arrangement? Doesn’t that rule exist for a reason?”

Leo laughed. “Dude, didn’t you say your dad closed Mount Olympus specifically because he thought the gods were too involved in their kids’ business? Do you seriously think he’s gonna reopen it just so he can smite me for sitting at the wrong table?”

“He might,” Piper chimed in cheerfully as she sat down across from them. “It probably wouldn’t even make the top ten of the pettiest things Zeus has ever done. Besides, you are pretty annoying.”

Leo threw one of his fries at her in retaliation. “Shut up. You’re gonna scare poor Jason.”

“I’m not scared,” Jason insisted, although he did seem a little embarrassed. “It’s just that the sleepovers are already pushing it. And from the way the ceiling I always thunders at night, I’m pretty sure Zeus isn’t even a fan of me sleeping in there alone.”

“Yikes. Really feeling the love from your dad, hm?” Leo asked with a grimace, patting Jason’s shoulder. Then he turned to Piper. “Well, you heard the guy. No sitting here today. So: are we pissing off your mom or my dad instead?”

“My vote’s on your dad. I love my siblings, but after the last few days of warfare, I could use a bit of a break,” Piper decided immediately.

“Not sure my sibs are the right call if you want a break from warfare,” Leo pointed out, gesturing vaguely in the direction of his eight year old brother Harley, who had just placed something that vaguely resembled a massive paintball gun down on the edge of the table, “but it’s your funeral.”

He grabbed his plate with one hand, then looped his other arm through Jason’s so he could drag his best friend along to the table that was technically intended exclusively for the Hephaestus kids (though Leo was pretty convinced that, unlike some gods, his dad didn’t actually care about this stuff).

Jason didn’t seem entirely sure what hit him, but he just let it happen.

Since Leo had a bunch of siblings who were present all year round, he along with Jason and Piper made a bit of a tight fit for the very limited empty spots (and Harley’s contraption being in the table admittedly did not leave a lot of space for additional plates), but Jason immediately looked much more relaxed, so the change of scenery had clearly been a worthwhile endeavor.

“Leo! Hey! Good to see you,” Jake greeted him.

“You any closer to letting us back into the Bunker?” Shane asked immediately. “We’ve been working on the railing shields at the forge and I’m itching to see what they look like fastened to the hull.”

“You have? That’s awesome!” Leo grinned. He hadn’t even told them to do that, but apparently his siblings had found a way to pick up his slack without disrupting the delicate engine work. “Another day or two, maybe. I’ve almost gotten all the kinks worked out. I’m thinking we could try to figure out the loads afterwards?”

“Oh hell yeah! I’ve had a few ideas for-” Christopher started to chime in, but Piper lifted a hand to interrupt him.

“Okay, that’s enough work talk for the evening. This is the one night off we got Leo to agree to. You can do Argo planning literally any other time,” she said sternly.

“Ugh. Fine. But if we miss our deadline, it’s gonna be your fault,” Leo teased, turning his attention to the thing Harley was tinkering with. That Argo talk was banned didn’t mean he couldn’t grill his siblings about their other projects, after all. “What are you working on?”

Harley’s whole face lit up with excitement, but before he could say anything, Nyssa cut in. “Nothing anymore,” she said immediately, crossing her arms and shaking her head at their little brother. “Harls, what did we say about working on deadly weapons at the dinner table?”

“Not if they’re anywhere close to completion,” he said, pouting. “But getting to finish a project is the most exciting part!” He hung his head.

Nyssa’s expression softened slightly. “I know, buddy.” She reached out and ruffled his hair. “It’ll still be exciting after dinner, though. I promise. I’ll even help you test it, if you want.”

“Really?” Harley beamed. “Can Leo come?”

“I’ve got other obligations tonight,” Leo told him, gesturing towards Piper and Jason, “but I’d love to see it in action tomorrow.”

Harley pumped his fist—and, after one more stern glance from Nyssa, he finally put the weapon away. This put the Hephaestus table dinner destruction count at a new record low.

~~~~

It was well past nine by the time Leo and his friends started setting up inside the Zeus cabin. Piper and Leo had brought over sleeping bags as well as a vast collection of pillows from their respective cabins and spread them out around Jason’s sleep nook, flooding the neat, boring area with its’ white and golden pillows with all kinds of mismatched colors. A variety of snacks were spread out around them. It wasn’t exactly cozy—with the giant looming Zeus statue and the weird weather effects, Leo didn’t think it could ever be truly cozy in here—but it was probably the closest to cozy the Zeus cabin could get.

At least the white marble walls made for a great background to aim their projector at.

The projector in question had been one of Leo’s earliest additions to Jason’s cabin, way before they’d ever started doing movie nights. Its regular purpose was helping Jason sleep. Most nights, it covered the walls in calm nature scenes—mostly videos of animals moving through the woods, sometimes wildlife documentaries—to provide a contrast to the thunderstorm hell of the ceiling.

Right now, it was showing the menu screen for the movie Piper had picked out—something with the title of Bodies at the River.

The scene that the menu used as a background picture was almost as charming as the movie’s title. It showed a cabin in the creepiest woods Leo had possibly ever seen (which was saying something, considering he’d slept in a bunch of creepy-ass woods in his years as a runaway teen). In front of the cabin flowed the titular river. Leo couldn’t see any bodies at first glance, but there was a definite trail of blood that led into the water.

“Pipes, is this a horror movie?”

“Yep!” she confirmed cheerfully. “You guys aren’t scared of ghosts, are you?” Her eyes twinkled in a mischievous way that Leo didn’t really like.

“I… don’t think so?” Jason said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement. “Most of the ghosts I’ve met—or at least the ones I sort of remember interacting with—were Lares. They’re Roman house ghosts. Ancestral spirits. Generally friendly.”

But there was a tension in Jason’s shoulders, like there was something he was neglecting to say, or—more likely—some other, ghost-related experience that hadn’t been so pleasant but that he couldn’t quite remember.

“Well, this one definitely isn’t friendly.” Piper smiled. “Leo, how about you?”

“Me? Afraid of ghosts? Psh.” Leo waved her off. “I sleep in a dead guy’s bed, remember? Besides, we’ve had to deal with a bunch of evil people who came back into the land of the living in real life. Why would I be worried about fictional dead guys?”

He conveniently neglected to mention that the whole matter of inheriting his bed from a dead camper was half the reason he’d rarely—if ever—slept in the Hephaestus cabin since they’d gotten back from their quest. They didn’t need to know that.

“Great! Then let’s see if we can make you scared of ghosts by the end of the night,” Piper announced, sounding slightly too gleeful for Leo’s taste.

Oh that lovely note, she went to turn off the lights, then climbed into her sleeping bag and pressed play.

The beginning of the movie wasn’t too bad—just your average teenage protagonists being dumbasses and thinking an isolated cabin in the woods seemed like an A+ spot for a parent-free vacation.

A few creepy things started happening around the ten minute mark, like furniture moving on its own, the missing person poster they found in the woods and a message that suddenly appeared on the bathroom mirror that looked like it had been written in blood. The protagonists, of course, ignored all the red flags and just set up for their party.

Leo lost his appetite around the time the first body was found with massive slashes across his chest. Jason inhaled sharply next to him.

At that point, one of the teens finally got their phone out and tried to call for help, but obviously they had no cell service.

“So, this movie was clearly made by demigods, right?” Leo joked in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood. “Because there’s no way in hell you’d get any other group of teens together anywhere and not have even one of them try to update their Instagram. If they aren’t demigods, someone would have discovered there was no cell service out there way sooner.”

”Oh yeah, totally.” Piper snorted. “They do such a good job sticking to demigod safety rules, and then the monster finds them anyway? There’s truly no justice in the universe.”

She leaned forward eagerly, clearly thrilled as she watched the terrified teens try to plot their next course of action. Should they try to flee? But who knew what might lurk in these woods. What if whatever had killed their friend was still out there? Maybe it was safer to bar the doors and wait for sunrise.

Leo was stressed as hell, knowing that whatever they’d decide, it would probably be wrong.

Piper had explained to Leo once that the reason she enjoyed horror movies was that the anticipation was stimulating for her easily bored brain. “It’s like that rush of adrenaline I got whenever we were in life-or-death-situations on our quest, except my brain knows I’m just watching a movie and there’s no real danger, so I just get the excited, good stimulation brain chemicals and none of the fear ones.”

Leo, for his part, was definitely getting the fear brain chemicals—and apparently so was Jason.

Jason’s eyes were glued to the projection, but he had the expression of someone who couldn’t look away from an impending disaster, not that of someone who was having any amount of fun. His shoulders were tense, his hands clenched tightly around the popcorn bowl like he was preparing for a monster attack and the monster in question may or may not be defeatable via porcelain dishes to the face.

Leo wanted to say something else funny and/or comforting to make his friend feel better (since Piper, who was tapping rhythmically on her knees and grinning from ear to ear, was clearly not going to be any help), but unfortunately he picked just the wrong moment to try and do that. Right as he reached over to tap Jason’s shoulder in an attempt to get his attention, the ghost was properly shown for the first time. She had a pale, sunken face, red eyes and blood-stained hands that glowed faintly in the dark. Her hair and her clothes were dripping like she’d crawled right out of the river. At the same time, blindingly bright lightning flashed on the ceiling above them.

Leo would vehemently deny that this had happened later, but he did scream.

Unfortunately, it turned out tapping your friend’s shoulder during one of the worst jump scare moments of the movie and then screaming in his ear were not particularly comforting moves.

Jason went rigid, then jumped with the speed and suddenness of a spring uncoiling, tackling Leo right in the chest and pressing him to the ground like he was an enemy that Jason had to incapacitate.

“Sorry! My bad! I wasn’t trying to- it’s just me!” Leo stammered out, words tripping over themselves in their haste to leave his mouth. He felt as startled as Jason looked.

His best friend stared at him, first confusion and then guilt abruptly overtaking his agitation. The second it seemed to click in Jason’s brain what had happened, he immediately moved off Leo, looking horrified.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to- gods, you really startled me. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

He offered Leo a hand up, which Leo took him up on immediately.

“Nah. My ego’s a little bruised from how easily you just managed to do that, but otherwise I’m fine. You did sort of tackle me into a mountain of pillows,” Leo pointed out, chuckling weakly. “You good?”

“Fine,” Jason confirmed, but he wouldn’t meet Leo’s eyes.

Piper cleared her throat.

“Are you guys done making out back there?” she teased. “Because you’re gonna miss one of the best parts.”

Leo exchanged a look with Jason. Both of them seemed to rapidly be arriving at the conclusion that this movie wasn’t going to have “best” (or, honestly, “good”) parts for either of them, but that they were going to bear it for Piper’s sake, anyway. If she could put up with Transformers for Leo’s and terrible 20th century romcoms for Jason’s sake, they could put up with a single horror movie for her.

The “best part” Piper hadn’t wanted them to miss turned out to be a second, even bloodier death scene.

Leo was mostly just glad his dinner didn’t decide to make a sudden reappearance at the sight. He wasn’t usually squeamish when it came to blood, but holy hell.

Jason gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze—which, judging by his ashen face, was probably as much for Leo’s sake as for his own. Thankfully, they managed to make it through this second attempt at comforting with zero tackles involved.

The movie just got worse after that—with Leo’s personal least favorite scene being one where a girl killed her possessed boyfriend in a desperate (as well as futile) attempt to save the rest of her friends. The scene dragged Leo right back to that unpleasant, hazy memory of being mind controlled at Medea’s department store. If it hadn’t been for Piper, either him or Jason might have ended up just as skewered as the guy in the movie.

Judging by how hard Jason was squeezing his hand throughout that entire scene and after, Leo was pretty sure he was thinking the same thing.

If this hadn’t been a horror movie, the ghost’s backstory actually would have been kind of intriguing. Some jerks had killed her girlfriend over witchcraft accusations centuries ago, and she’d gone into the river to be with her, unwittingly binding herself to this place via her rage. She spent the whole movie testing whether people’s love for their significant others was strong enough to save them—strong in a way she herself hadn’t been. That was why the only couple who got away at the end was a pair of best friends who’d rather die than let harm come to the other person, even when things got really dire.

Leo kind of got why Piper liked the movie, at least thematically. Also, if anyone ever made him sit through another slasher movie, it would be too soon.

The final jump scare at the end of the movie, which featured the ghost seemingly breaking through the screen and addressing the audience directly, startled Leo so badly that he all but jumped into Jason’s lap.

His heart was still hammering by the time the credits finished rolling and Piper finally switched the lights back on.

“Wasn’t this fun?” she asked, beaming at them. “It’s one of my favorite movies. Thoughts?”

“It was terrifying,” Jason said quietly. “It also made me feel kind of sad.”

Piper nodded sagely like she was teaching a course on this movie and deemed Jason’s reply an acceptable first impression. “Leo?”

“The effects were really cool,” Leo said noncommittally, because focusing on the technical aspects of the movie was easier than admitting just how much it had scared him. “I was expecting the ghost to look kind of stupid, but they seriously knew what they were doing. Hatedthe way the blood glowed when it was splattered all over her dress, that was eerie as hell.”

“Yeah, the effects really make or break paranormal horror movies, and I could gush about the ones used in this movie for days.” Piper’s eyes gleamed. “The patterns on her dress are based on foxfire.”

“The bioluminescent mushroom?” Jason asked, eyes wide. “I knew they seemed familiar.”

“Yeah, that’s the one! It fits extra well because foxfire grows on deadwood—particularly moist or wet deadwood like the one of the tree her soul is tied to.” She beamed. “And the imagery of that tree? Two separate stems growing intertwined, one still living and struggling for sunlight, the other rotten down to the roots, slowly dragging the living tree into the current with its weight? The way that it symbolizes Eleanor’s relationship with her beloved? Absolutely incredible.” She sighed dreamily. “I may disagree with my mom on a bunch of things, but there really is something kind of romantic about the thought of a girl loving me so fiercely she’d haunt the lands of those who wronged me for generations to come.”

“Right! So you clearly have issues,” Leo commented, nodding his head. Piper lightly swatted him with one of the pillows. “Hey!”

“You deserved that.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but he was grateful for the laughs after he’d just spent the better part of two hours terrified.

“How did you even get your hands on this movie? That has got to be R-rated for violence,” Leo pointed out. He loved hearing Piper talk excitedly about movie effects, but he’d much rather move on before she started to try and explain the exact making of the murder scenes. There were some things he’d just rather not think about too hard.

“I asked my dad to send me the DVD from home when we first decided we were going to do regular movie nights.” She smiled. “I talked my way into the cinema to see this movie when I was thirteen. Dad worked with the director once or twice afterwards. When he learned I was a fan, he got her to sign me a copy of the DVD and got me an earlier version of the script.” Piper ran her fingers over the neat black letters on the plastic hull, expression soft. “It’s one of the coolest things he’s ever done for me. And also the one time that it was convenient be doesn’t pay too much attention, because he didn’t even bother to check the age rating.”

She chuckled.

“That was really nice of him,” Jason said, looking at her fondly. “I don’t think mom ever brought me or Thalia anything back from a set, but I was also way too young when I ended up with Lupa to remember much from before then.”

“Yeah, I really have two best friends who are children of celebrities. No idea how that happened either, but yes, they do make me feel weird about it occasionally, thank you for asking,” Leo joked, holding his empty cup upside down and speaking into it like it was a microphone.

Piper gave him another light swat with her pillow, but she was laughing.

“Anyway… thanks for doing this for me, guys. I could tell the movie wasn’t really your thing, and I vow I’ll find something less scary for you two cowards next time, but… this was the first time I got to watch this film with friends, and it meant a lot to me.”

“Aw, you sap.” Leo moved to hug her. “I’d say anytime, but it appears horror movies aren’t really my vibe. I’m glad it made you happy, though.”

Piper hugged him back, then grabbed Jason’s arm and pulled him into the hug, too. “Sorry. Mandatory trio group hug,”

Jason chuckled. “I don’t mind. This is nice.”

~~~~

What Leo and Jason did mind, actually, was the ensuing walk through the dark, silent camp to get to the bathrooms. It was late enough that the campfire had died down and the rest of the campers had disappeared into their cabins due to curfew. Thankfully the harpies had been instructed to refrain from eating demigods if all they did was head right to the bathrooms and back, no matter how late into the night it might be.

One serious downside the Zeus cabin had—in addition to the shitty weather effects, the massive statue and the general gloomy atmosphere—was that, because it had clearly been built as a temple rather than a living space, it didn’t have the small attached bathroom most other cabins came with. Due to this, they had to use the public washrooms to brush their teeth.

Usually, Leo didn’t mind this so much. Sure, a five minute walk outdoors when he had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night was annoying, but that was all it really was.

Right now, though? Camp was eerily quiet, and during their walk Leo was reminded unpleasantly of the fact that the three of them were, technically, teenagers staying in a cabin in the woods with little to no adult supervision and a large body of water close by. He did not appreciate the similarities to the movie.

He felt that demigod alarm tug in his gut which kept him vigilant for any sign of danger. At the current moment, this feeling was incredibly stupid considering the massive, very much intact barrier around camp that kept monsters out, but he just couldn’t turn it off.

He spent the whole walk jumpy as hell. At one point, one of them stepped on a twig, and Leo promptly made the reasonable self-defense move of bursting into flames.

“I mean, yeah, you will for sure be able to defend yourself against the evil twig that way,” Piper snickered. “It doesn’t stand a chance.”

Leo glared daggers at her.

Somehow, this wasn’t even their worst horror movie-related incident. When they passed by the lake—which usually had a nice, calming air to it, even late at night—bubbles rose up in the dark water.

Jason’s gladius was in his hand faster than either Leo or Piper could react, and only Piper’s quick thinking and her charmspoken “STOP” prevented Jason from rashly beheading some poor naiad whose worst crime was probably the gossip she was undoubtedly going to spread about this incident.

Her friend that had emerged next to her looked equally startled.

“Sorry, ladies,” Leo said, looping his arm through Jason’s and pulling him a little further away from the shore, “bad horror movie experience,” he tried to explain. “Uh. Have a nice night?”

“Stupid demigods. Can’t even moonbathe in peace,” the first girl muttered.

The two naiads gave them all disapproving looks before disappearing back beneath the surface.

“You guys are both morons,” Piper said, shaking her head, though there was a distinctly amused glint in her eyes. Now that the situation was dealt with and no one had been seriously hurt, she clearly thought the whole thing was hilarious.

They made sure to give the lake a wide berth in their walk back.

~~~~

The second they’d finished putting some minimum effort into tidying up their sleeping space and killed the lights, Piper immediately passed out. She snuggled up in her sleeping bag and happily, peacefully snored away, like they hadn’t just finished a borderline traumatizing horror movie less than an hour ago.

Leo could not relate. He’d come into this movie night exhausted, but since then, his body had been kicked into flight mode so hard that he wasn’t sure he’d ever remember how to feel tired at all.

The smallest noises made him jump. Even Piper’s steady inhales and exhales, which Leo usually found comforting because the noise was so familiar, suddenly added to the ominous atmosphere.

Leo felt like he needed to go for a run or something to get all of this anxious energy out, but a light post horror movie jog through the monster-infested woods at midnight didn’t actually seem like a very good idea to him for some strange reason.

Part of him maybe slightly longed to suffocate Piper with one of their many pillows as revenge for her movie of choice, but he was decently sure a less anxious, less sleep-deprived version of him would probably regret that, so he shelved the murder plans for now. Instead, he closed his eyes to try to at least pretend he was going to get any sleep whatsoever.

Bad call. The final death scene painted itself onto the inside of his eyelids in all its gorey details.

Yeah, screw closing his eyes. He went back to staring at the ceiling and tried to get a handle on his breathing.

This, unfortunately, turned out to not be much better. The ceiling lightshow painted shadows all over the walls. And like that wasn’t bad enough, the second he’d gotten his heart rate to slow down a minimal amount, the room suddenly exploded into noise—first that of a lightning strike, followed by the loudest thunderclap Leo had ever heard in his life.

He yelped, flinching violently at the noise. The noise was so loud and seemed so close by that he briefly wondered if maybe they had pissed Zeus off so badly he’d decided to come down from Olympus and blast the roof off this cabin, but thankfully nothing else happened, so that probably wasn’t the case.

Leo would have been mortified about his intense reaction under normal circumstances, but the mortification was slightly lessened by the fact that the noise had made Jason jump so hard that he was literally levitating a full foot above the mattress now.

“Gods of Olympus,” Jason muttered under his breath, which was the closest Leo had ever heard him come to an actual swear word.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Leo agreed, annoyed at how squeaky his voice sounded. “Screw your dad and/or whichever jerk installed this stupid lightning and thunder display.”

He sat up, giving up any pretense that he was going to get even an hour of sleep tonight. “You gonna come back down, or do I need to worry about you floating away on me?”

“No, I-” Jason took a few deep, slow breaths that sounded very forced, then slowly levitated himself back onto his mattress. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, clearly. And we’re obviously both huge fans of slasher movies,” Leo replied sarcastically, raising an eyebrow at his best friend.

A part of him was honestly relieved that Jason couldn’t sleep, either. The fact that the movie had rattled even Jason Grace—seasoned hero that he was—made Leo feel a lot less ridiculous about just how badly it had scared him.

Piper on the other hand was still happily snoozing away, despite the thunder and Leo’s yelp and Jason’s little flying stunt.

“Okay, so maybe I’m not fine,” Jason admitted with a sigh. “My adrenaline’s all over the place. I feel like there’s some monster lurking in the dark that I’ll have to fight any second now. The shadows on the walls aren’t helping, either.”

“I’m so glad it’s not just me,” Leo told him. “I don’t even want to stab anything, I’m just super jumpy, but it’d still suck a lot worse if I was lying here waiting for some ghost to show up and murder me while you two were snoring away on either side of me.”

Jason looked at Piper’s sleeping form and shook his head. “I have no idea how she does it.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Hey, Leo?” Jason asked, something almost hopeful in his voice.

“Yes?”

“Any brilliant ideas on how to deal with this situation?”

“Nada, sorry. I’m too hopped up on anxious energy to have anything but panicked squirrel thoughts right now. I’d volunteer Piper for stabbing purposes, since this is technically her fault, but I don’t think she’d appreciate that,” he joked. “Do you think your usual way of dealing with your dad’s whole… shtick might help?” He gestured vaguely at the cabin around them. The cabin ceiling chose this very moment to unleash yet another lightning thunder combo on them. “Holy fuck, cool it, lightning guy,” Leo cursed at the ceiling. The ceiling thundered back disapprovingly.

Jason laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t think you’re helping.” But some of the tension had gone out of his shoulders. “And… I don’t know? I guess we could try one of the nature documentaries. I’m not sure you’d like it, but it might at least distract us for a while.”

“Good enough for me. Besides, Pipes is totally gonna sleep right through that.” Jason laughed again. It was a full, proper laugh this time, the kind that made Leo break out into a huge grin for having caused it. He looked at the empty space on Jason’s mattress—that spot that had been freed up by Jason sitting up—suddenly feeling strangely nervous for a reason he couldn’t quite explain. “Hey, is it cool if I sit there? That way we can just aim the projector at the opposite wall and neither of us has to do any awkward neck craning.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Jason smiled at him. “I’ll go start the documentary, but I’ll be with you in a second.”

He did just that, picking out a documentary about wolves like the predictable dork that he was. To Leo’s confusion, he didn’t immediately sit back down once he’d started it, though. Instead, he began rummaging through the mountain of stuff they’d lazily shoved aside earlier.

“Whatever you’re doing, you better hurry it up,” Leo teased. “You’re gonna miss all the best wolves.”

But when his best friend reemerged from the pile of their things with a very familiar magical tool belt in his hand, Leo immediately shut up.

“Tinkering is how you usually get out your excess energy, right?” Jason asked, holding the tool belt out towards Leo as he sat down on the mattress next to him. “I figured if we’re gonna watch the documentary for my sake, the least I can do is find something that would help you, too.”

“Dude, not to be dramatic, but I could kiss you right now,” Leo told him, delighting in the way Jason’s face lit up at the confirmation that he’d helped.

Leo immediately started pulling bits and bobs from his tool belt, his hands moving pretty much by themselves. Some of the anxious tension immediately drained from his body.

In the end, that was how they spent most of the night: with Leo tinkering away on several small contraptions that were purely for fun and Jason spouting a bunch of random wolf facts to give additional context to this documentary that he’d apparently memorized word for word.

Leo forgave the fact that Jason had picked out a kind of gross documentary about wolves hunting less than half an hour in, because Jason scowling at random deer and hares in the projection was both incredibly funny and also genuinely seemed to help him relax.

It was nearly 4 am by the time Leo finally managed to pass out, but by then he’d also mostly forgiven Piper’s movie choice. Horror movie aside, he’d had a wonderful time with his friends. Besides, goofing around with Jason and light-heartedly poking fun at all of his nerdy wolf knowledge had been such a great time that Leo had almost managed to forget about the horror movie altogether.

And, well… if he went into a temporary coma with his head on Jason’s shoulder and missed all of the Argo-related deadlines he’d set for the next day in favor of catching up on sleep, that was a problem for future Leo.

———

Notes:

Special shout-out to @manygeese for the prompt idea of them watching a horror movie together, I was really struggling with the prompt I initially came up with but ended up really happy with this one :)

I feel like if the fic was narrated by anyone other than Leo, the Valgrace would probably be way more prominent, but Leo is currently still in denial about his feelings for Jason. Jason, on the other hand, is very aware he has a crush on Leo and deserves a medal for not imploding at Leo’s little “I could kiss you. Anyway, moving on”-moment, LOL

And Piper absolutely knew beforehand that neither of them is huge on horror movies and she did pick the movie at least partially because she was hoping they’d hold hands about it. (She did also just really want to see her favorite queer horror movie, though. It’s what she deserves.)

Also, I’m not the horror movie type. Bodies at the River is a horror movie that I specifically made up for a different horror movie watching fic (because Im not very familiar with many horror movies) and I decided it would both be a fun nod to that fic as well as convenient to recycle it here. That made-up movie working kind of well thematically was mostly a nice coincidence. Another funny coincidence: somehow, this fic ended up almost the exact same length as the first fic I used this fake movie in? No idea how that happened, but I do find it wildly hilarious.

Anyway, those were my rambles for the day, lmao. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you all (and of course especially the recipient of this gift fic) enjoyed it! I’d love to hear your thoughts!

#Lost trio #leo valdez #jason grace #piper mclean #hoo #heroes of olympus #my writing #fanfic #exchange #pjo equinox solstice exchange #valgrace #leo x jason #jason x leo #My writing

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literaryvein-reblogs · 6 months ago

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Hi! Sorry to disturb. I'm a quite inexperienced writer, I'm trying to write my first long work and I don't want to just get it out and be done with it, I want to put care in it, so your blog has been super helpful for both small tips and for big deals. So I have a doubt and I thought I'd ask you, if you can't or don't want to answer that's fine!

One of my main characters is a singer but most importantly a song writer so the songs she writes really have a meaning with the story and are meant to get a reaction from her counterpart. I tried a few ways but I can't seem to incorporate her singing very well in my pages, how would you go about it? Do you have any tips?

Thank you and have a good days and holidays if you celebrate xx

Hi! Here are some references and tips from various sources I found for you. Use which ones would work best with your specific story, and alter as needed:

Writing Template: Singing Scene

Part 1

What perspective will this be from? The singer or the audience? Maybe both.

There is more to singing than using the voice.

Will the audiences’ emotions be front and center for this scene or will it be the character’s? It doesn’t matter if you are writing first person or second person. The character can show the reader what the audience is thinking based on body language.

If the character is singing alone, the audience can be more than just themselves. It could be a deity they believe in, or a loved one that passed away and is present either in physical spirit or thought. Could be a pet or even nature itself (trees, grass, etc) as the character’s audience. They all would respond in their own ways. Maybe the trees dance in the wind while the character sings a melody. Or the birds and bees join in on the tune.

Part 2

Connect a deep feeling and understanding back to the reader.

Remember, overall experience is more important than mechanics.

What is the song about? What genre? How does it sound? Is it slow or fast? Lighthearted or formal? Does the singer have a high voice or a low one, or a mix?

How does the song make people who hear it feel? Is the singer doing anything else while they sing?

Let’s say the main character has a song stuck in their head. One way to show the reader (if it’s important to the overall plot) is when every time the song gets stuck in the character’s head, the paragraph would stop and a new one would start with the lyrics.

Part 3

Create an emotion profile for why the character is singing

Is there a message you want to convey? This can be shown by how the character sings.

Tone/breathy, maybe the sound of an exasperated sigh would be heard in parts of the singing.

How the character holds tension in the body can really influence the emotion. Are they rigid, loose? Perhaps seemingly overthinking it.

Diction can be shown through how you write the lyrics the character is singing. For example, hard/soft on the consonants using bold letters or capitalization. The character can have pauses and slurring in the singing, shown through the way you write the lyrics.

Breath. Every emotional state has a breathing pattern associated with it. Ways to write breathing for singing would be through body language and onomatopoeia. For example if the character is scared and is hyperventilating: He placed a hand over his heart, barely able to stare into the crowd of onlookers. Wheeze, gasp! Was all the lyrics we heard from him that night”.

Think about the type of song and the genre. For example, if you’re writing about rock music, the instruments will be guitar, drums, piano. So ‘Her voice rose higher, while trying to follow the raspy, intense notes of the musician’s bass.

Is this a new song?

If you’re using well-known songs, include action, internal monologue, and scenery description to avoid a reader skipping over to the actual story.

If a song is new or a unique take, you can paraphrase the lyrics in a way that tells you something relevant to the character or moment.

Example: The goofy man staggered down the street in his drunken stupor singing: “You ma-a . . . blue-eyed girl!” He took another swig from the bottle in his hand. “Do you remember when . . . we used to sing: Oh la la, la la, la la, la la, la te da! Just like that!” He took another swig. “All alone on my own. I thought I saw you the other day. But it was my dreams—” He was silenced by sirens coming from behind him down the alley. He bolted!

Part 4

Create emotion profiles for the song.

Purpose of the song. Is the message in the content of the song or the characters reaction to them?

Songs in fiction have multiple purposes such as giving background details, foreshadow, used as a metaphor, portray emotion or conflict, reflect or mirror events of the story, used for character development, etc. The message you are trying to convey will determine how you write them.

One method is good for when the content of the song is unimportant or secondary to the characters reaction. Simply include a description of the song. Using broad terms, describe the topic and style of the song but keep focus on how it affects the characters.

Part 5

How does it end? Good note or bad? Audience wanting more? Character feeling happier?

Don’t be afraid to end the scene or chapter here.

When it ends, is there thunderous applause?

How are they feeling? What are they thinking? Their posture. Are there any subtle movements in their hands, eyes, and breathing patterns?

After singing the character could simply move on to later that night or the next day. You don’t necessarily have to show what happens right after. It may even make the reader curious. You can show the results of singing throughout the story, for example, if other characters start treating the singing character nicer, or they get a contract deal, or if their depression has subsided. Example:

Intense, was the crescendo as it built to a slow roll that crashed like a great wave into the souls of those that listened. A calming silence fell over the eager audience; they were captivated by the intoxicating tune coming from this slender throat. From the depths of his soul, the lyrics rose and swelled around everyone in that room as if all could feel his misery. In this moment, his pain was their pain and the audience and singer were as one.

Some Personality Traits of Singers

3,088 singers were surveyed to learn what personality traits and interests make them unique.

Singers are artistic and enterprising. They tend to be predominantly artistic individuals, meaning that singers are creative and original and work well in a setting that allows for self-expression. They also tend to be enterprising, which means that they are usually quite natural leaders who thrive at influencing and persuading others. [Using the Holland codes]

The top personality traits of singers are openness and social responsibility. Singers score highly on openness, which means they are usually curious, imaginative, and value variety. They also tend to be high on the measure of social responsibility, indicating that they desire fair outcomes and have a general concern for others. [Using the Big Five]

Character Development through Music

One device that is highly effective in understanding character is music. Music is nearly universal in its influence.

It’s a bit too easy to just answer the question, “What kind of music does my character like?”

More difficult might be, “What kind of music would my character turn off?”

You might think of an entire type of music or, more likely, a specific song. Maybe a song that would break your character’s heart in two at just the first beat.

Think about instances of revealing character traits using music as a way to show your reader more about how your character interacts with the world.

Music can be explored in literature showing us just how responsive this device can be to character.

Our knowledge of character may be deepened by their interaction with music.

How might this work in your own writing?

Try this exercise, using the first few words from Prince’s iconic “Kiss”:

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE BEAUTIFUL…”

Copy this line, including the quotation marks. Unless your character is Prince, write says, or sings, or said, and your character’s name.

Imagine your character speaking these 6 words.

To whom did they say them? Where are they talking? Are they singing at a bar? Or is your scene NOT connected to the reality of this song at all?

You can imagine that your character is the first person to ever say these words to another. Take time to free-write this scene, and see what happens next.

More references:

On Sensory Language ⚜ Word Alternatives: Auditory

Words to Describe Someone's Voice ⚜ Key Musical Terms

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hope this helps. No need to apologise, this was such an interesting request for me to look into. So thanks so much for that & happy holidays to you! <3

#singer #music #writeblr #literature #writing tips #writers on tumblr #writing reference #dark academia #spilled ink #writing advice #writing inspiration #character development #writing prompt #creative writing #on writing #writing ideas #writing resources

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agentmarvel · 9 months ago

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center image by @/ave661

PART IV

hitman!ghost x fat!reader (afab, fem) w/ arranged marriage

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

rating: explicit

word count: 3,106

cw: genre-typical violence, non-descript injury

♡

Or perhaps you won’t.

You’re seething, teeth clenched and hands flailing as you express your resolute displeasure.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Simon! I’m old enough to shop alone!”

The tone of your voice borders on shrill, pitch rising with your temper. Fury rolls off of you in waves, incensed by the notion that you’d need one of his men following you around. Simon pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and middle finger, taking a measured breath as he contemplates what information you need to placate you. Perhaps he should’ve laid out the simpler rules first…

“Not a babysitter,” he grumbles, scrubbing that same hand across his jaw. “They’ll only be there to keep you safe.”

“From what? A fucking can of soup, Simon? New shoes? Rogue cart in a parking lot? Or, god forbid, a cashier that might ask how my day is going?”

“That’s not it - “

“Then what is it? Am I some sort of prisoner now? Scared I’m going catch a flight home and you’ll have to settle your debts like a grown man? Or is it just improper to have a lady in public without supervision? What fucking century are you living in?” You’re venomous in mocking him, fangs dripping with no intent of mercy, coiled up and ready to strike as soon as you find a soft spot. He’d like to say he understands, but you really have no reason to bite the hand that feeds. You don’t appreciate the gravity of the situation.

Simon utters your name softly, trying to pull you from your diatribe long enough to listen to reason. You’re not having it.

“I’m a person, Simon. I’m not your fucking property. I don’t need to be stalked by some half-wit thug with a God complex just because you are insecure. Believe it or not, I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. You can’t - “

“Just listen - “

“What’s next? Lo-jacking my phone? Hiding a tracker in my purse lining? Chipping me like a fucking dog?”

“Enough!” he snarls, curt and cold. He can feel his heartbeat in his ears, pounding like a drum. His fingers curl into his palms, fists clenching. Your eyes go wide at his thunderous bark, but your face doesn’t betray your surprise otherwise. “My job is… dangerous sometimes, alright? Enemies come easy, and a lot of ‘em. Rules are in place to keep you safe, and you will follow them. Don’t like it? I don’t fuckin’ care. This ain’t a game, love. Your life is not a fuckin’ game.”

“What do you mean, ‘dangerous’?”

He stays quiet.

“Simon, tell me.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Simon?” You’re almost pleading at this point, anger all but draining. In fact, there’s an edge of fear when you say his name. He hates the sound.

Your beautiful doe eyes stare at him expectantly, and he folds like a lawn chair. Stubborn little thing, prodding like a needle until you get what you’re after. He’ll never confess how weak he is for that darling gaze.

Simon sighs, shoulders sagging from their tense, defensive position.

“I’m a black market contractor.” It’s a half-truth, a muted admission, but it’s better than handing you a live wire and throwing you in the deep end. You’ve had enough shocks in recent weeks; if he can save you from one more, he will.

“That’s how you know my father,” you say after a beat of silence. He nods.

“More or less.”

“Okay.” It’s followed by a heavy exhale that puffs out your lips and round cheeks. As inappropriate as the thought is in the moment, Simon can’t help but find it winsome. “Can you just, uhm, can you tell me the rest of the rules now, please?”

“‘course.”

He takes his time explaining as he guides you through your new home; the importance of setting the perimeter alarm while he’s away, the necessity of privatizing your social media accounts, a solid boundary of not having guests in the house without him vetting them first. You listen raptly, doll eyes staring up at him. Whether they’re full of engrossment or dread, he isn’t quite sure, but he enjoys your attention all the same.

You don’t ask many questions. Through the hallways, you generally acquiesce to his requests without resistance and ignore the closed doors. But one door seems to grab your attention at the end of the corridor, and when you ask about it, he knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

Simon pays attention, you see. Your socials gave away far too many of your interests and hobbies (don’t read into that - he only spent days digging back nearly a decade). He spent nearly a month cautiously cultivating the contents beyond the multitudes that were already in his possession, and he knows that room will be your favorite.

“That’s the library,” he comments casually, feigning no knowledge of the depth of your enthusiasm. Your face lights up, though you try to bury the delight behind your collected façade.

“Am I allowed in there?”

“Of course.”

You pause a moment before asking, “Are there any rooms I’m not allowed in?”

He shakes his head. There’s no need to disclose the armory to you, really; you’ll never need to use it. His gallery of weaponry and wares hides behind a covert veneer, a door that doesn’t appear as a door, something you’d never think twice of in cursory glances. And that door is behind a door that remains locked at all times inside Simon’s office. The thought does occur that it may behoove him to teach you how to defend yourself, but what are the odds anyone would ever get close enough? Near zero.

“Only thing I ask is that you knock ‘fore you come in the study. Prefer to keep my work separate from my personal life. Rest of the house is fair game; it’s yours now, too.”

Like a broken record, he keeps slipping that in wherever possible. Repetition breeds remembrance, and he’d hate for you to forget that you’re a Riley now…

♡

The staff gathers in the foyer shortly before breakfast.

Simon regards them all fondly. Each is a well-oiled cog in a seamless machine; some pieces newer than others, but all perfectly functional. He hates to reduce them from sum to parts, but they’re all instrumental in his operations. He couldn’t do what he does without them, especially not now that he’s married. You’ll learn their functions, fragments, and faces. You’ll come to love and trust them as deeply as he does.

Your soft footfalls pad down the stairs right on time. The hitch in your breathing indicates a yawn, and he can hear a nearly imperceptible swish of fabric as you cover your mouth to hide it. Step-by-step, he tracks your progress until you reach what should be the last stair. You stop. He glances over his shoulder and offers a muted smile, taking in the only mildly disheveled sight of you first thing in the morning - wet hair, sweatpants, and a faded t-shirt. You’re stunning… and a bit surprised by the number of people in your house.

“C’mere,” he says softly. It’s as much a command as a suggestion, but you’re likely to be a bit more receptive if he isn’t too pushy, right? See, he’s learning, bit-by-bit, how to communicate with you to his advantage. Manipulation tactics aren’t ideal, but if it gets you on his side sooner, so be it.

Finicky thing, aren’t you? Emotional. Reactive. You respond to him like a feral creature backed into a corner, all claws and quarrel. Lashing out, he understands. He’s seen that deer-in-the-headlights look a million times over - though usually, it’s right before he unloads a clip in some sleazy nobody’s head or right after he makes a near impossible shot on a corrupt high-powered target. It’s something entirely different to see that look on his wife. Something that sets his teeth on edge.

So, he’ll adapt. Even if that means one-sided psychological warfare until you’re willing to meet him in the middle.

“Good morning,” you greet, enthusiasm absent but polite nonetheless, as you approach his side. To the dismay of the gnawing ache in his bones to pull you close, you stay just out of arm's reach, folding yours across your chest.

His host of guests responds in kind, scattered smatterings of verbal responses and mere nods mixed together.

“Our staff,” Simon announces. “I’m sure you recognize them from the wedding, but that’s Johnny and Kyle.”

He points to each in kind, Johnny giving you a charming grin and Kyle tipping the brim of his ballcap.

“My babysitters, right?” you ask blankly with an edge of snark. Johnny snickers, but tries to mask his amusement as soon as Simon hits him with a sharp, warning glare.

He ignores your comment, though.

“Farah and Alex are in charge of housekeeping; they bring in a team twice weekly for thorough cleans. If you’d like them to not touch your room, please let them know. They’re good about that.” What he doesn’t say is that Farah is also his head of private security, ensuring all safety protocols are in place, and Alex is in charge of the armory. He keeps an accurate inventory of what comes in and out, makes sure everything is organized and in working order, spends the bulk of his time methodically cleaning the instruments Simon takes on each assignment until no trace is left.

“Roach runs the kitchen - ” Double duty - chef and personal trainer. Sanderson oversees Johnny and Kyle’s nutrition, workout regimen, and training drills to keep them in peak shape to keep up with their boss.

“- Nikolai is my driver - “ Primarily a pilot, really, but he’s a man of many talents. He’s saved Simon’s hide more than once in a pinch, trained as a medic with the Russian Army, and is, by all accounts, an absolute fucking Savant when it comes to mechanics. He’s a force to be reckoned, akin to a hurricane when prompted.

“- Yuri handles landscaping - ” And assists Farah with external security. He does routine perimeter checks and looks for flaws in the system. When he’s not lurking about outside, he’s assisting Nikolai with transportation repairs or in the armory with Alex. Jack of all trades, in a sense; always willing to lend a hand. He’s even volunteered to act as your personal chauffeur when Nikolai is away. How chivalrous.

“- and I’ve picked you up a new mobile for emergencies.” He holds out a new phone for you, knowing the old one was conveniently left inside his jet and was subsequently smashed beyond recognition. This one is identical in model to your previous in all ways but one - an invisible tracking app pre-installed by Kyle. You’ll find absolutely no indication of tampering, and he’ll be able to keep tabs on you from a distance.

You’re hesitant, but take it from his grasp.

“We’re still looking for your old one. Finish setting it up after brekkie, yeah?”

He’s met with silence and a wary glance. It’s almost like you know he’s lying - which he is, but only mostly. They’re still sweeping the floors for fragments of your screen.

“Right, off you fuck, the lot of ya,” Simon announces with a lopsided grin. “Breakfast is on the table - thanks, Roach - and we’ll join you in a sec.”

“Not sure how I feel about a guy called ‘Roach’ being in charge of the kitchen,” you reply automatically, clapping a horrified hand over your mouth as soon as you realize what you’ve said. Roach laughs, full and hearty, at that. You can only offer a bashful smile and an apologetic shrug, the embarrassment evident on your face.

“Nothing to worry about, ma’am. I wash my hands, promise.” You giggle at that. “And, if it helps, you can just call me Gary instead.”

You agree, testing the taste of his name with gratitude. Simon would love to hear you say his name with something other than contempt right now. He understands how complex this all is, but he’s your husband, for fuck’s sake. Doesn’t that buy him any wiggle room?

No. No, it doesn’t.

He has to remind himself that while he knows everything about you (that he could find online, that is), you don’t really know him. You don’t know the lengths to which he’d go for you, that he now lives for the happiness of the pretty little specter that haunts his dreams. Don’t worry, he’ll fix that soon.

♡

Blood drips into the water, cardinal beads leaching color as they slip into hazy translucency. Simon watches the streaks circle the drain as the faucet runs on low.

It was a local job, quick and dirty. Solicitor with a nasty penchant for underage girls and enough money to weasel his way out of the legal ramifications. Surveillance indicated his wife was out of town, but Simon didn’t bank on the other woman. The one that stabbed him.

She snuck up on him, striking right after he pulled the trigger. The tip of her blade sliced a neat strip across the side of his neck. Not deep enough to need stitches, but deep enough to piss him off. Her gray matter is splattered all over a nice painting in the solicitor’s flat.

However, a faint sense of guilt gnaws at his nerves. There are no qualms about his actions, no concerns about the successes of his work, but in doing so, he’s lied to you once more. The excuse of a late night meeting shaded the edges just enough to discolor the true intent. That’s what places the unscratchable itch in the back of his mind.

Coming home, freckled in red, river of rivulets pooling in the curve of his clavicle and dripping down his chest, he doesn’t want you to see that. All the care and caution that has gone into shielding you this one bitter truth would be all for naught if you caught him. Hell, Johnny had to find a way to sneak him back into the house just for Simon to clean up.

It’s late, though; you’re probably already asleep anyway, right?

He turns the faucet off, shaking the loose droplets from his hands before snatching the pair of butterfly bandages from the counter. Each layer peeled away feels like another stripped from Simon himself. Symbolic, almost, the way it mimics your being burrowing deeper into him. Beneath the skin, the fat, the fascia, the muscle; weaving through the fibrous tissue and veins until you’re settled in the deepest part of him. He closes the superficial wound with unflinching hands, but you… It’s far too late to keep you from getting inside.

Tossing his blood and sweat-laden clothing aside, he’s halfway into pulling on a fresh pair of sweats when he hears a tentative knock at his bedroom door. He grumbles something bordering on foul, an unheard warning that there better be a damn good reason for Johnny bugging him right now, but he’s colored a lively shade of surprised when he finds his wife awaiting instead.

“What are you doing up, lovie?” he asks softly, trying to decipher the timid look on your face. You look tired, but there’s a wild awareness in your eyes. They dart across his form, lingering briefly on the bandages before combing the bare planes of his broad chest. He swears he can feel the heat coming off your pretty face when you realize you’ve been caught staring, but no mind is paid as he awaits an answer.

After a beat, you speak - low and soft, hesitant, like you’re trying to tiptoe out loud.

“Can we talk?”

Simon nods, stepping back from the door frame to gesture you inside. The steps you take are calculated; you’re mindful of each separate footfall on the carpet. Trepidatious like a rabbit, ready to bolt at the first sign of a threat, but you won’t find one here. Not with him.

His focus narrows in on you, following so succinctly behind that he can feel the shift of your hips in his palms. A phantom of your perfume trails at your back, beckoning him along. Silly, but he swears he can feel the threads of your sweatshirt between his fingers. He blinks, attention shifting to the tear in the collar and the stain on the sleeve. He actually does know that material well; it used to be his, after all.

“S’that my shirt?”

The stretched sleeve cuffs are long enough to hide your hands, the hands that are wringing together.

“It was in my laundry,” you murmur. “I’m sorry, I can wash it again and - “

“No. It looks good on you, dove. Keep it.”

He makes a mental note to slip Alex a little extra for taking the initiative. Seeing you in something of his does something to him. Something vulgar and very ungentlemanly, something that tests his restraint, something not at all appropriate for this conversation. He’s subtle in the way he palms then adjusts himself.

Respect, Simon. Show her respect.

“What’s on your mind?”

You sigh, fingers fidgeting.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize. Again. I haven’t really been fair to you. This last month or so has been a lot to cope with, and I’ve just… God, Simon, I’ve been so angry. I don’t know how to deal with it, and it keeps boiling over. It’s never been my intention to take it out on you, and I feel awful that you’re really taking the brunt of it. You don’t deserve that. You’re just as much a victim in this as I am, and - “

“You don’t get it, do you?” His interruption is a bit harsh, he knows, but how many times does he have to say it? “I’m not a victim, love. I chose this. I chose you.”

He doesn’t want to lie to you anymore - can’t, won’t continue to hide things from you. You’ll never be able to truly want him the way he wants you if you don’t wholly know him. This way, you’ll have time to process. You’ll have all the time you need to come to terms with whatever you need to make peace with. It’s better this way, easier. You’d have found out eventually, right?

So, laying his cards on the table, he tells you everything. No stone left unturned, no facet unfaced. He watches your pretty face pale and twist in abject horror as he publishes each element in a bold font. By the time he’s done, no secrets remain.

Tears run down your cheeks as you try to catch your breath. The second he reaches out to comfort you, you’re gone.

part v - coming soon!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod x reader #cod x you #fat reader #plus size reader #jj writes

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chireikiden · 7 months ago

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do we know whether zun writes the script for each official manga word for word, or if he gives the artists a detailed outline and they write the dialogue? i often wonder this because i feel like the writing styles of each manga can differ quite a lot, and some of them feel really different from the way zun writes dialogue in the games.

I don't think we can say for sure how he works with each individual manga. However, the largest sample we have is from this spring's Dai Touhou Project Expedition, which included some of ZUN's scripts for Lotus Eaters. As photography was banned in this section, afaik we only have the recreated text in this blog post here, in Japanese of course.

In these examples, the dialogue is the one thing that ZUN does include word-for-word, while most other descriptions are very brief. This matches how the artists clearly draw e.g. characters' reactions and general behavior very differently.

The scripts have been reframed a bit for the expo, and Mizutaki's comments are a later addition, but we can assume the contents themselves are pretty unedited (or else there'd be very little point in displaying them as a showpiece). I'm gonna go through a couple.

Here we have the script for the first few pages of Lotus Eaters chapter 4. The Japanese dialogue is word-for-word identical between the script and the finished manga, and though this could be a change made for the expo, I doubt they did that. I've borrowed Alpha Beta Kappa's translation for the dialogue, but the point is to illustrate what is and isn't in the script:

Chapters 4–5｜"The Haughty Grab Even the Red Ape" (Part 1–2) Page 95 ― ZUN's Script ――Night-time cherry blossoms at the Hakurei Shrine. Reimu, Marisa, Sakuya, Remilia, Youmu, and some other usual characters may or may not be there. Everyone's already had some drink, and the party is in full swing. Sakuya brings out a dessert on a large tray. Marisa: "What's this?" Sakuya: "I tried my hand at a dessert. In the Outside World, it's called tarte soleil, or 'tart of the sun'. Supposedly it's quite popular for it's sunlike appearance. Although as the sun hardly suits my mistress, I tried rearranging it for a night theme. I call it the tarte lune. It's not too sweet, so enjoy." Everyone's excited. Sakuya looks proud. Marisa: "Fits right in your hand!" Reimu: "This is wonderful." Everyone happily finishes dessert as well. No one's looking at the cherry blossoms at this point. Reimu: "Jeez, your cooking's so good. I'm glad we asked you for help again, Sakuya." Sakuya: "Oh, it's nothing. I merely prepared it to entertain the mistress. Perhaps this is the best the shrine could hope for, but it really is nothing praiseworthy. To think you'd be so easily pleased." Reimu and Marisa smile awkwardly. Reimu: "R-Right... Well—" Marisa: "Y-Yeah, that's right!" Mizutaki's Comments ZUN-san's script didn't really clarify what this tarte lune was supposed to look like, so I just came up with something tasty-looking based on the appearance of the real-life tarte soleil. It says that Sakuya made this for dessert for Remilia, yet Remilia doesn't actually have any lines here. Luckily she's a pretty easy character to make move on page.

Obviously this is a pretty simple, dialogue-based scene, with not much else happening plot-wise, but it shows how all the little interactions on page and even what characters are present is left to the artist's discretion. Sometimes the script for an entire page is like "Miyoi's cleaning happily, when suddenly there's some noise at the door", and sometimes the script ends up becoming a different number of pages than expected. Because the whole point is to be the script for the story, though, it can also be pure description when that's what the story is being told through:

Chapters 11-12｜"Love the Customer, Hate the Sin" (Part 1–2) Pages 106–107 ― ZUN's Script Mamizou and Komachi begin to exchange information. Mamizou keeps the existence of Sanshoku Geidontei a secret, but tells her about the fake name customer. Komachi recognizes what she's talking about! And shares what she knows. Mamizou looks like she understands everything now, and seems satisfied with herself, but her face is also a little solemn. Mizutaki's Comments This scene had no dialogue, only ZUN-san's description of Mamizou and Komachi's conversation. Figuring out how to draw stuff like this is difficult, and I feel a bit lost sometimes, but it's also fun in some ways. Since the location wasn't specified, I wanted to give the feeling that they're hiding themselves from humans but doing so right under their noses, so I chose the underside of a bridge across the river (canal) that runs through the Village. Where else would Komachi be but a "river", after all!

In general, we have Mizutaki's word for the scripts being a bit vague sometimes, but being able to discuss them with ZUN during the process:

Chapters 1–3｜"A Drunken Evening Leaves no Memories" (Part 1–3) Page 77 ― ZUN's Script Suika: "Ah, yeah. I just figured she was that sorta youkai. The kind that always appears at bars. Getting people drunk and then wasting 'em. Good sake makes for a good suima. Bad sake makes for a bad one. And an oni's sake, well..." Reimu: "Well what?" Suika drinks directly from the gourd. She laps up the last bits of the bottomless Ibuki Gourd. Looking drunk and very smug, she goes: Suika: "That makes for... the strongest kind of suima. Unmatched, and unparalleled." Mizutaki's Comments At the time that I got the script, this scene had basically no stage directions. When I tried asking ZUN at our meeting what the mood was supposed to be like, he suggested that Suika blow an alcohol-laden breath at Reimu, so the end result is what you see. (*We were usually also drinking during our meetings, and it's not like I really have any clear notes from them, so there's also a good chance that I'll misremember things. Please read with that in mind...)

We don't get to know how much of the embellished fight scene against the dream-pig that follows was in the script, and how much of it is Mizutaki's creation. But it's already easy to see that with directions like this, any scene can be drawn in many different ways.

If this is representative of the other manga too, it seems that the dialogue itself is straight from ZUN, but almost everything else we see on page is just drawn based on his very general directions. This means that even if the text is pure ZUN, it can still be greatly affected by the context, and the less dialogue there is going on, the more of the page is made up whole-cloth by the artist.

Presumably there are differences in how he works with different artists for different manga, and CDS for example has far less dialogue than most of his other manga, but I must assume that is on purpose. For example, he's said on some show or other (don't ask me to dig up the source, sorry) that he enjoys how he can just kinda tell Akimaki to stick in a fight scene and cut loose (which tells us both that it's Akimaki's doing, but also ZUN-approved).

I can't say with confidence that the dialogue in CDS or any other manga is also word-for-word from ZUN's script, but I think it's plausible and likely, and the artists just have a lot of room to put their own spin on it even without touching a word of it.

There's also other factors in the dialogue pipeline, of course, such as:

ZUN himself is writing in a very different format in the games than in the manga, and the manga generally have a lot more and lengthier dialogues.

The text is split up very differently (into small text boxes vs. across multiple bubbles and pages). And believe me, if you've never translated Japanese, the way things like periods, ellipses, commas and conjuctions are placed is half translator preference and half trying to wrestle with the way the text is split.

The game translations are generally massaged by a number of translators, while the manga are hammered out by individual translators in a couple days with maybe proofreading at most, meaning that their individual styles also affect things more directly.

#ask #anonymous #translation disc.#chireikiden disc.#general disc.

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funnier-as-a-system · 5 months ago

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Big decision making has made me decide to try ADHD meds. My psychiatrist is awesome and she assures me that none of the effects are permanent and if I don’t like them, I can stop and go back to how I was before.

But my question is…what do I do if the meds cut off communication between me and my headmates? I’m not sure we know how to function completely independently from each other. Some of us don’t, definitely.

What advice can you give and what do you know about ADHD meds and the impact they have on headmates?

Might it go in the opposite direction and make communication EASIER? And CLEARER? And make us work more efficiently as a team?

I know the number one thing people taking them say is it makes your brain “go quiet” and I don’t like the sound of that. I’m not prepared to only have one train of thought and I’m a bit nervous about how I’ll react.

There's no one certain way that ADHD meds will impact your internal communication. Some say it makes communication more difficult, others say they make it easier, still others report no difference at all; for some, their brains "going quiet" can include not hearing their headmates as much, but for others, their brains "going quiet" can just mean that their brains calm down enough that their headmates' voices are clearer. So, unfortunately, this is something that won't make its effects obvious until you're on the meds for a while.

But even if meds make communication more difficult, it's unlikely that it will just stop entirely. In addition, you can practice external communication if that sounds like it might be helpful – things like keeping a journal, leaving each other notes, and co-fronting or proxying* to write messages back-and-forth without having to switch (you can even hold entire conversations this way, though it may take some practice).

* I'd recommend asking other system blogs about this, because I don't feel that I can give a good explanation and description of proxying.

At the end of the day, your psychiatrist is correct that you can stop taking ADHD meds if that treatment doesn't work out, which includes if the meds impact your internal communication badly enough that it's not worth taking them. If this happens, perhaps bring up the possibility of short-term meds that you only take when you need to focus on something, rather than daily meds (which I assume you'll be trying out). We tried out ADHD meds, and the negative side-effects outweighed the positives, so we stopped taking them. If worst comes to worst, you can do the same and look for alternative treatments.

You don't have to just wait for results to appear before you take action, though. By recording how you feel and what's going on within your system each day, you can track symptoms, positives, and potential problems as they appear. If you start now, you'll also have records of how you are when you're not taking any meds, so you can compare later down the line if needed (or just wanted, if you're ever curious). Keeping your own records to refer to can also help your psychiatrist know what the effects of this new treatment are, when they appeared, and how things are likely to develop in the future.

In short: things might go better than you expect, if things go poorly they can be fixed and new plans can be made, and in the meantime, you can keep a personal record of your internal and external functioning to help keep track of things and catch any problems you might face early.

Wishing you the best, anon!

#thanks for the ask!

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wip · 2 years ago

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Hi there! I am a long time user (over a DECADE on my original blog), but this is a brand new blog I just made, on the web, after seeing a post about the creation process for new blogs and wanting to test it myself. I like the suggestion that people follow some tags to start, to help put some good stuff on their For You page! However, you'll also notice that this blank blog with a generic name and default appearance looks an awful lot like a bot. And there is also an influx of spam bots right now as well - @changes always tells us to report those when there's a new wave of them, and we usually block them too. I think I've managed to discern the difference after looking at the suggested names vs some actual bots, but most people can't. Suggesting random names for new users (which is fine on its own), sending them to an unskippable page where they have to follow *people* (not just tags) before they've had a chance to explore the site, and not ever pointing them in the direction of their personalization settings (which are buried in the new layout) is going to end up with a lot of new users getting blocked and reported as spam! Perhaps after the tag following page, you could redirect people to the Blog Settings page, where you can have informative pop-ups suggesting people add a profile picture and header that reflects their personality/interests, and point out the description section to "Tell people about yourself!" You could make the page skippable if you think it would discourage people who just want to jump right in, but it would be really useful. I see on the app that a section like that comes up when you go to your own blog, but I think it should be a step in the sign-up process, before you follow anyone. Skippable, but encouraged. (Also, the requirement to follow individual blogs REALLY needs to be skippable) Encouraging new users to have a profile picture, header, and personalized bio would really help in preventing real users from getting blocked by all the cool blogs they're trying to follow who think that they're spam bots! Getting blocked for no reason won't encourage new tumblrs to stick around! Please, encourage some individuality from our new internet neighbors, so they can become our internet friends 💙

Answer: Hey, @lefttragedysandwich!

Thanks for getting in touch with this. We are very aware of this situation, and we are trying to find the best way to solve it—without just adding more steps to onboarding, which (unfortunately) most people won’t do.

This, in turn, just adds friction to signing up for Tumblr, which means fewer people sign up to join us. Which means fewer internet neighbors, let alone less individuality.

But this is an important question to answer, and we are grateful you raised it with us. As and when we have a good solution, we’ll announce it on @changes. Keep your eyes peeled, and hopefully, it won't be too long.

Best,

—The Tumblr WIP Team.

#feature #blog #new users #your suggestions

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leighbaye · 11 months ago

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hello hello !! i just found your blog and i love your writing style would you mind doing a dustin x reader fic ? hope you’re having a wonderful day !! <3

— RADIO CONNECTION

written by mina leigh 𝜗᭪ , dustin henderson 𝔁 reader | wc 1200

summary. you and dustin discover old outdated walkie - talkies that still work. you start talking to each other late at night, sharing those thoughts and dreams, slowly but surely falling in love through your late night conversations.

labels. no definite description of reader, gender neutral reader, shy & kind reader, reassuring dustin, new party member reader, worrying about being of use. dustin & suzie are only platonic friends here. party mentioned, max is readers best friend. mike doesn’t like reader. yet

‧₊˚ ୨୧ mina speaks. this is my first ever time writing for dustin, so i tried to come up with a prompt suited for him. i hope this is well suited to your liking!

you pace around dustin's room, your eyes tracing over the multitude of trinkets and gadgets that adorn every surface. his room is a testament to his brilliant mind and boundless curiosity, and you can’t help but feel a bit out of place amidst it all. you hear him rustling behind you, dismantling his radio tower after yet another failed attempt to reach his friend, he met in know where camp, suzie.

❝ hey y/n, come here, ❞ dustin calls out, his voice full of excitement. you then turn to see him holding up two old, slightly battered walkie - talkies. ❝ look at what i found! ❞

you aren't gonna lie, it did startle you for a moment, what could possibly make him speak in a manner like this? you first looked over at him, but his eyes were met with the walkie - talkies.

you walk over, curiosity piqued. ❝ oh my gosh, wow! ❞ you let out content, eyes widening. ❝ do you think they still work? ❞

❝ only one way to find out, ❞ he grins, handing you one in the process. ❝ c'mon, step into the hallway and speak into it. ❞ he lets out like he was a kid in a candystore.

you walk out of dustin's room and into the dimly lit hallway, suddenly getting nervous focusing on what you were gonna say into the walkie - talkie. to put it quite frankly you putting way to much thought into this. your cheeks heat up, ❝ h-hi dustin can you hear me? ❞ when you heard yourself from his room, it came out choppier then you would've imagined, i mean they did look in very good condition you thought to yourself.

dustin's reply is just as garbled. ❝ i can… you… hold on… fix… ❞

seeing how the testing process was done with, you walked to his doorway with baby steps and peeked into his room. his eyebrows were furrowed with a hand rubbing his chin, perhaps in thought. ❝ what should we do? ❞ you asked gloomily as you return to his room, handing the walkie-talkie back to him. ❝ is there something you can do dustin? ❞ ❝ hm i think i could yeah, nothing a bit of tinkering can't fix, ❞ dustin assures you, already examining the device with a keen eye.

later that night, you lied in bed, the walkie-talkie dustin gave you sitting on your nightstand, right next to your walkman and cassettes. as soon as you returned home, you decorated you new prized possession with stickers and adhesive gems to your liking. you reach for it hesitantly, wondering if he’s still awake. finally, you muster the courage to press the button.

❝ h-hello, dustin. are you there? ❞ you let out as soft as a whisper, feeling a bit foolish and bashful.

almost immediately, his voice comes through, clear and bright. ❝ hi y/n, it's dustin. do you copy? ❞

❝ o-oh! i didn't think you would answer so quickly, ❞ the corners of your lips turning upwards. ❝ i just ... i wasn't so sure if you'd still be awake, ❞ you admitted, laughing softly

❝ of course, I’m always up for a late-night chat, ❞ he replies warmly, emitting a soft chuckle hearing your voice. ❝ how are you feeling? ❞

you hesitate, unsure how to put your swirling thoughts into words. ❝ i don’t know … i guess i feel like i’m a burden to the party. ❝ i mean, I just joined, and sometimes it feels like I’m not really useful. ❞ honestly this was on your mind for a while, just never had anyone to talk to about it, besides perhaps your stuffed animals.

❝ why would you think that? ❞ dustin’s voice is full of genuine concern. ❝ you were recruited by max, right? ❞ ❝ i would assume she knows a good addition when she sees one. ❞

❝ yeah, but it’s just … there’s this tension, ❞ you admit. ❝ will is great. he’s been so welcoming and loves talking about d&d. lucas and i get along well too. we both think max is amazing. plus jane is super pretty and has very stylish outfits! but mike … it feels like he doesn’t like me. ❞

dustin sighs softly. ❝ mike’s a bit … odd. he’s only really been close to me, lucas, will, and el jane for so long. it takes him time to warm up to new people. but he will, I promise. ❞

❝ i really hope so dustin. ❞ I say quietly. feeling better by the minute ❝ it’s just hard, feeling like an outsider. ❞

❝ hey, ❞ dustin’s voice is firm yet comforting. ❝ you’re not an outsider. you’re part of the party now. and for what it’s worth … I think you’re pretty amazing. ❞

your heart skips a beat. ❝ r-really? ❞ you squeaked, your palm immediately landed on your mouth in disbelief

❝ yeah, ❞ he says softly. ❝ i … i like you. a lot. ❞

you stay silent for a moment, processing his words. ❝ i-i like you too, dustin,❞ unsure if he meant what he meant he said. like platonic like or romantic like? ❝ no like, ugh listen to me y/n. like i really like like you. ❞ he confessed. dustin almost instantly regreted uttering those words till about three seconds later .. ❝ well i think ... i think i also like like you too. ❞ finally whisper back, enphasis on the second like. a smile spreading across your face. hoping he reciprocated across the walkie - talkie.

you both spend the rest of the night talking, sharing your dreams, your fears, and everything in between. as the hours slip by, you realize just how much you should cherish this moment, and every moment with dustin from here on out. these whispered connections that bring you closer together.

#minaleigh #leighbaylee #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #y/n #gender neutral y/n #dustin henderson #dustin henderson x reader #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #will byers #suzie bingham

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chackyxyooj · 8 months ago

Text

Vol. 2 - I 'Love' You: Otome Dissection

→ “It's good as long as it hurts.”

╭──────────.★..─╮

Description: Zenix likes the idea of going home with a girl like you. || ONESHOT, SMUT (Overstimulation, Aggressive!MSub)

Included: MS!Zenix X Reader

WC: 2.4k

CW: Strong Sexual Themes | NSFW

One Night Masterlist

╰─..★.──────────╯

Sexual Content Ahead: If uncomfortable with this type of content, please DNI! - Minors & Ageless Blogs DNI!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“You’re so fucking pretty when you take my cock like this.” Zenix’s thoughts spill out in a breathless laugh. He runs his thumb across your bottom lip and grins when he smudges your lipstick across your cheek. “That’s right. Keep taking me like the good little slut you are.”

You peer down at the boy beneath you and grab his hand with yours, dragging it down to your hip and holding him there as you continue to move against him. The action earns a low grumble from your companion but you hardly even notice it - you’re too busy admiring his flushed expression as you leisurely ride his dick.

From his rough and eager hands to his sharp tongue, you were sure that the brown haired boy was someone who knew exactly what he was doing. That notion held true right up to the moment you had him pinned against your mattress.

To think that such a mouthy boy would end up being a stiff in bed. You suppose that his ‘hard to get’ act was less of an act and more of a blissful ignorance - and now that you think about it, he’d been pretty irritable until you made your intentions perfectly clear. You thought that was merely due to the notion of getting lucky, but perhaps there was more to it than you initially thought. Nevertheless, here the two of you are.

You place both of your hands against the boy’s lower stomach as a means to help steady yourself. This time his quiet groans of protest make it to your ears as you slow your already leisurely pace.

“You seem tense. Is something bothering you?” You ask with a coy smile.

The brunette throws his head back against the pillow, straining his neck as he lets out a frustrated sigh. “You’re going so fucking slow.” He protests, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. “You getting too tired to fuck me the way you want to?”

With a quiet hum you shake your head (not that he can see it) and sink down until your hips are flush with his. “What’s wrong with taking my time?”

The boy opens his mouth to reply but you that’s when you suddenly roll your hips against his, pulling a strained moan from his lips instead of whatever he wanted to say. Such a guttural and desperate noise makes you want to drag this out longer and make the boy squirm beneath your touch, but this exasperated look on his face is so much better.

You push your hands a little further up the boy’s chest and set a faster pace against him. It isn’t long before the boy is pulling your hips down to meet his every thrust. His movements are quickly bringing you closer to your release and it doesn’t even seem like it’s intentional. It’s amusing, really - the way he chases his release without the slightest concern for whether or not you’re feeling good. Lucky for him, it’s mutual.

“I’m so close…” You trail one of your hands up to the boy’s face and tilt his chin down so that he’s forced to meet your gaze. “You look like you’re about to cum, too.”

With his eyes on yours the boy narrows his gaze. “You really think this is enough to make me cum?” His voice is strained as he speaks. He’s obviously holding back. The way he’s struggling to keep his hips still and the way his hands roughly grasp at your body are a testament to how desperately he wants you, yet he still insists on denying it. Perhaps he has been playing hard to get all along.

“It’s obvious that you feel good so why are you trying to hide it? You should just admit how good it feels. It might even feel better once you do.” You tease the boy with an amused look, dragging your fingers down his chest as you move to pin his hips against the mattress. “Don’t be shy. Tell me how good it feels.”

“You’re so-” Zenix cuts himself when he sees how entertained you’ve become. He doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction of voicing what you already know, but it’s getting harder to deny just how badly he needs you. “...fuck you.”

You take the boy’s stubborn nature in good stride, stifling a quiet laugh as your breathing becomes more and more ragged. It isn’t long before you feel that familiar feeling of bliss creeping up on you. Eventually your movements stiffen as the building tension in your core finally snaps to reward you with an orgasm.

Just as Zenix is starting to lose himself in the pleasure you provide him, it’s suddenly ripped away as you slowly settle against his hips. Though he initially looks up expecting to see some kind of smug look, he’s surprised to see a look of ecstasy plastered across your face.

“This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to use my cock to fill that stupid little hole of yours until you came.” Zenix uses his hands to pull you back and forth against his length. He can feel you tense around him in response, a smug grin tugging at his lips as he observes your fucked-out expression.

“That would be correct. Just give me a minute and I’ll-” Your words are cut off when Zenix suddenly pulls you off his length. He hardly registers your confusion as he quickly shifts to sit up from beneath you.

With his hands still firmly grasping your hips Zenix places you on the bed at his side. He already knows that if he let you have your way he’d be chasing his release without a chance to catch it. Besides, you’re the one who’s pulling him closer now that he has you pinned against the mattress. You’re obviously enjoying this - maybe even more than he is.

Zenix slides his hands down your hips to your thighs, slowly pushing your legs apart as he settles right where he wants to be. When he has himself lined up to the lips of your cunt he finally looks up at your face.

You’re staring at him eagerly, a coy smile etched onto your lips as he slowly pushes himself back inside. Your back arches into his touch immediately and a sound of pleasure quickly follows. It sounds so sweet falling from your lips that he might even become addicted.

“So fucking good…” Zenix mutters to himself. He pulls back slightly just to ram himself against your inner walls. His actions pry a strained gasp from your lips and he likes it. In fact, he wants to hear even more. It isn’t long before the boy is thrusting himself into your sensitive cunt over and over with a rough, snappy rhythm.

Your hands find Zenix’s forearms as you attempt to soften his harsh thrusts against your hips. It feels so damn good, but you haven’t completely come down from your high. A pace that you’re usually eager to welcome is like torture against your sensitive walls. You only need a moment to catch your breath but it seems like the boy is adamant on denying you what you want - though to be fair you did the very same thing not too long ago.

The boy's expression becomes a bit more relaxed as he feels your hands tighten around his arms. Whether it’s your intention or not it feels like you’re pulling him in, so naturally the boy leans in to get closer.

Zenix doesn’t realise his eyes are closed until he’s opening them to look at you. Your eyes are closed and you have your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you attempt to muffle your sounds of pleasure. The boy can’t help the small smirk that appears on his face when he notices the lust and desire scrawled across your face. Having you at his fingertips with such a blatantly erotic look brings him a sense of satisfaction.

“Am I going too fast for you?” Zenix brings one of his hands up to your face and wipes away the lipstick he previously smudged across your cheek. When his thumb reaches the corner of your mouth he tugs your bottom lip free, loving the moans that spill from your lips as a result.

“Hitting so deep… too deep.” There’s a look of surprise hidden beneath your smug grin as you address the boy. “You can slow down.”

“Feels too damn good to slow down.” His words spill out between low groans of pleasure. If only to accentuate his point the boy delivers a stern thrust of his hips. “You like it too, don’t you? You like the way I keep sinking deep into your pretty little hole.”

You open your mouth to reply but your words are swallowed up by an excruciating sense of pleasure. You desperately grip at the boy’s arms in an attempt to keep yourself grounded, your nails raking down his arms as your legs squeezing his waist. Though your mind feels like it’s going blank from pleasure you make notice of how the boy’s motions falter.

The pain you inflicted was unexpected, but not unwelcome. In fact, Zenix can feel himself starting to reach the high he’s been chasing all this time. As much as he wants to reach it, he doesn’t want things to end. Not yet.

The boy takes a sharp breath between his teeth as he starts to pull away but you quickly stop him from doing so. One of your hands cling to his shoulder and the other snakes around the back of his head to tangle into his dark locks of hair. If only to test your silent observation from earlier you roughly tug at the roots of his hair. Once again the brunette falters, a low grumble escaping his lips as you smile up at him.

“What happened to all that confidence from before?” You wonder with an amused look in your eyes. “Did someone bite off more than they can chew?”

Zenix narrows his gaze at you but his attempt at being intimidating falls apart when your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder. He quietly whines beneath your touch and feels himself teetering on the edge of his release. No matter how badly he wants to prolong this feeling of bliss, he doesn’t attempt to slow down either. He knows you just came and he knows how sensitive you must be, but unlike before you allow the boy to keep his rough pace. In fact, you’re encouraging it.

“Fuck… it’s like that, huh?” Zenix looks down with a cocky grin, his eyes glued to your lips as he starts to tug at them. He notices the way you start to tilt your head away from his grasp so he immediately grabs your chin to pull you back. Without a moment’s hesitation he leans down and catches your lips in a greedy kiss, enjoying the way you shudder against his touch.

The boy is far too distracted by the feeling of your lips against his own to care about how close his climax is. He continues to kiss you, his lips getting more heated and passionate as he gets lost in the moment. He barely even notices that your grip on his shoulder has tightened - and even when he does he thinks you're just trying to cling to him in response to the kiss, further convincing him to hold you in place.

“Even though you just came you still want more.” Zenix mutters between kisses. He runs his tongue against your lip, silently asking for permission to deepen the kiss before opting to do as he pleases. When he finally pulls away his expression is consumed by desire. “You’re so fucking greedy.”

“You’re one to talk after stealing so many kisses from me.” Your words come out in a breathless laugh, pulling the boy closer to you as your lips hover the shell of his ear. “I can tell you’re close. There’s no reason you need to hold back - unless you like the way it feels. If that’s the case then you must like the pain as much as me.”

“That’s not-”

“You want to cum? Go right ahead. I’m not going to stop you.”

“You’re so- fuck.” The soft, insistent tug at his hair sends another jolt of pleasure through Zenix’s body. He lets out a strangled groan before burying his head against your neck. He can feel his body tremble against you as waves of pleasure course through his body from his orgasm. Zenix can finally allow his movements to slow as he catches his breath.

As your companion slowly comes down from his high you gently caress the marks you left against his shoulder. All things considered you’re impressed that he lasted so long. You didn’t think he would be able to keep up his pace as well as he did, nor did you think he would take initiative the way he did. Then again, it’s not like you know that much about him in the first place, so it’s not very hard to be surprised.

You let the boy lean his weight against you, humming quietly as you comb your fingers through his hair in an attempt to see his face. Rather than prompting the boy to look up at you, your actions cause him to pull himself closer.

“Have you done this before? You seem pretty experienced.” Your companion mumbles against your neck, his grip on you growing tighter when he hears you starting to laugh in reply.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

If you couldn’t already feel the boy’s frown against your skin then you could definitely hear it in his tone of voice. You’d think it cute if not for the way he grips you so tightly. “You know, you’re going to break me if you keep holding onto me so tight.”

The boy clicks his tongue and pulls back slightly. “Don’t avoid the question.”

You smile up at the boy, reaching forward and caressing his face with a feather-light touch. Though you can feel him leaning into your touch his expression remains tense - as if he’s already made up an answer in his mind and is waiting for you to say it out loud. Stranger or not, you’re not so cruel that you would carelessly say something that might hurt his feelings. So instead you shake your head. "I don't kiss and tell."

“You don’t kiss and tell?” The brunette moves so that he’s practically pressed on top of you, his body pinning you against the bed, and he looks down at you with an almost possessive gleam in his eyes. “Guess I’ll just have to get you to spill everything.”

#mystreet x reader #one night stand #oneshot #smut #zenix #mystreet zenix #zenix x reader #technically a connected oneshot

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