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lycanlovingvampyre · 1 year

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MAG 159 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: You know, for the life of me I cannot remember what I was doing or even where I was when I listened to MAG 159 and 160. I know it was the next day and that I was working in the garden at MAG 160. But those two... My brain just blanked it seems XD

Episode title "The Last"... The last mark... Thanks ashes, I probably would have never got that xD I thought it has something to do with Martin and Jon being in the Lonely. The last always makes me think of being forsaken.

Ahhh, the gentle crashing of the waves. I think I didn't really register them when I heard that episode the first time because I remember being a bit confused why I had the image of them being on a beach in my head...

JON: "What’s wrong, Lukas? Afraid of talking face-to-face?" PETER: "(chuckles) "Of course. Or haven’t you been paying attention?" Yeah, I feel you Peter XD (My fear sign is the Eye and I’m Lonely is my Ascendant xD)

PETER: "So. What are you seeking? The image you’ve each created of the other?" You can only know a person in that way of the image you created of them. I can't know what they're thinking, or really feeling. I do think Jon and Martin had enough time to create a educated image of each other! This capacity to understand other people is called theory of mind btw. I have a hard time getting into ships, because a lot of times I don't see them coming, no development, no tell-tale dynamic etc. I don't see this gradual and slow dancing around each other happening. This doesn't mean it can't be a slow burn, there are times a ship gets canon after a long time, but when they first see each other they're already so obviously set up to be a couple that it doesn't feel natural to me. I don't know if that’s an aro thing, but I've never understood this "love at first sight"... or even "love at third sight" although friends told me that this very much exists for them... We don't see Jon and Martin doing super much stuff together, but that's because it's not important for the story. Important is, that we know that it is happening. And I saw that with Jon and Martin. I saw them probably spending more time in the second half of S1 because Martin lived in the Archives and Jon is a workaholic. That interaction in MAG 40, where Martin almost starts crying for accidentally leaving Jon (and Tim) and the way Jon answers sympathetically. We know Martin fusses a lot about Jon in S2 ("very attentive to my needs" xD), and Martin knows about Jon's Distortion stab wound. And then they had lunch together at least once and I like to think they did this more often (even if Jon convinces himself he does it to observe Martin as a murder suspect - and while we're on it, Martin asked if he should bring Jon something from the cafe and Jon decides on his own to go with him... so he can't poison him of course!!!11). Aaaand then Jon finds out about Martin's CV, which also brings them closer. Okay, you see where this is going? None of these actions were already meant in a romantic way by Jon, but because of them he got to know Martin better. This is just romance (accidentally) written very, very well! Perhaps the fact, that it wasn't planned makes it feel so natural and not like a forced set-up from the beginning.

PETER: "The people you think you love don’t exist. Not really." So we've decided on counting Elias' not really in MAG 158, which was not-really 21. Oh, this episode still has a few of them^^ Not-really counter of S4: 22!

JON: "The Lonely and the Eye aren’t too far apart, are they? Not really. " Not-really counter of S4: 23! (I told you we're still getting somewhere^^) Also, I think the Lonely and the Eye are still tricky. Because not being seen, so being hidden, is also very lonely. Peter doesn't like being found, so there the Eye works against the Lonely (similar to the Dark with the Extinguished Sun being seen).

JON: "Come on, we’ve got to get out of here." MARTIN: (echoing) "No. No, I don’t think so." That sound effect while Martin answers. I have seen this often depicted as Jon trying to reach out to Martin, but just swirling through Martin like mist. But that is actually exactly like this sounds!

MARTIN: (wry laugh) "I really loved you, you know?" AHHHHHHHHHH! Although Jon told him it's really him, Martin doesn’t believe it. That's just what imagination!Jon would say. It sounds like Martin is talking to his own imagination of Jon, saying goodbye to him. He's saying this to come to terms with his fate of fading away now and this is also why he uses past tense. Because he also thinks he's stopped existing. If there is no Martin anymore, then he also can't love Jon anymore, right? (Just like in MAG 170. If Martin forgets himself, there is nothing left for Jon to know his way to.)

JON: "Obviously he’s done something. Peter’s done something to mess with you– Damn it! Martin! Martin!" Jon knows there is something very wrong with Martin, and it only took Martin to say that he past tense-loved him for Jon to notice it.

PETER: (echoing) "I tried to tell you. He’s gone. He made his choice. And it wasn’t you." Because of this sentence I always thought it was Peter letting Jon find Martin, so Jon could learn it from Martin himself, that he doesn't want to be with him anymore. Hoping it would break Jon.

JON: "It was for me, though. I’m the reason he…" Aaaand Jon isn’t so convinced about that. He knows Martin did still care about him.

JON: "I did this to him as much as you." PETER: "Yes. I suppose you did." Eehhh, bit of pessimism coming through though. And Peter immediately latches on to this to get Jon's guilt going. Telling him the fates of all his friends are his fault.

PETER: "You’re alone, Archivist. The last one standing." That probably made me think the episode title was meant to refer to a person. After all, being the last means being alone.

PETER: "perhaps it would be better if you stayed a while. After all – you can’t hurt anyone in here." JON: (seemingly defeated) "Yes." PETER (AS THE ARCHIVIST’S ECHO): "Yes." JON: (flatly) "Or perhaps you could answer some questions." PETER: (echoing) "…what?" [STATIC RISES AND DEEPENS AS THE ARCHIVIST SPEAKS] JON: "I wouldn’t try to leave if I were you. I can see you now. I can find you wherever you go." Poor Peter, getting played by everyone today... Played by Martin, which means he lost his bet with Elias and now even the wet paper bag of an Archivist gets him. I love it every time Jon gets all angry using his powers. And he flat out threatens Peter here.

PETER: "From what I understand, severing the connection to your humanity is a cornerstone of an upper-class education…" Yeah, that sounds about right. Only keeping people because you can use them, not because you like them. And at a certain level, you can't be more successful if you're not willing to hurt others, to live on their expenses... That probably doesn't make you very popular.

PETER: "I had no time for books or television, or any of the escapes and artificial friendships of fiction." Hm yes, clever that this is addressed. Parasocial relationships are relationships after all. And they are dangerous in a sense because with them you actually shape that celeb/character/influencer/whatever exactly how you want them to be. Especially with characters, they don't have a mind on their own, they are exactly what you make them to be. And that's probably without any flaws that bother you, ever in favor of you. That friend, who is just perfect. And that can keep you from making actual friends. Because real people aren't perfect, they won't always do what you want to do and that's complicated and frustrating. Why stick around with them, when there's this perfect person just around the corner of your mind.

PETER: "My crew is out there, waiting for a call I think I am now unlikely ever to give them." Does that mean he's already suspecting not to get out of this alive?

PETER: "The thing is, the loneliness I crave, that fills my heart with that reassuring unease, relies on distance from other people. But a world without people at all, or at least anything I would recognize as people…? It is meaningless. Without the lighted window in the distance, how am I to see myself apart from it?" Hmmm, and that is what makes the Lonely close to the Eye, even though the Eye can be very dangerous for the Lonely.

You know, Peter's ritual could have been a perfect reverse panopticon. (And therefore a perfect middlefinger as celebration to his 5th divorce with Elias xD) Picture a round building, spread out the windows and you would never be able to see the neighboring one around the corner. So instead of being able to see everyone on the inside, you can't see anyone on the outside.

I'm not a flat-person, but Peter's design sounds actually wonderful to me...? xD

PETER: "Do you know how she did it? What devastating weapon she used to derail my plan? The newspaper. She tipped off someone in The Guardian." Yeah, even when not looking at the consequence of people not wanting to rent any of Lukas' flat anymore, I'm guessing the press can also be very invasive. Peter must have hated that.

JON: "hat was his prize? What did he get if you lost?" PETER: (disinterested) "Oh, he got you." This might be the most last-minute foreshadowing in TMA xD

JON: "Tell me, or I will rip it out of you." PETER: "No…" [THE STATIC GROWS LOUDER.] JON: "Answer my question!" PETER: (echoing again) "No! Leave… me… ALONE!" JON: "TELL ME!" [THE SQUEALING CRESCENDOS AS THE ARCHIVIST RIPS PETER LUKAS APART. LUKAS LETS OUT A FINAL DEFIANT SCREAM THAT FADES INTO THE REGULAR STATIC.] After Brutal Pipe Murder this might be the second most brutal thing we hear live on TMA. That splash-sound, letting us know that he was indeed ripped apart, blood and gore splattering all over the place. I never had the impression that this was Jon's intention. I always thought it was very clear, that this is exactly how Alex and Jonny described it in one of the Q&As - like pulling on a person's arm with enormous strength for so long it finally just rips off.

JON: "But we need you. (desperately) I need you." OMG this is happening *OFMD Lucius style*

MARTIN: "No, you don’t. Not really." There it is... the TRUE reason this episode is called The Last. Because this is the last not-really of S4. It has been an honor to point this out and perhaps ruin this a bit for some of you now that you're aware of it and can't unhear it. And with these words, I now will say for The Last time: Not-really counter of S4: 24!

JON: "I don’t just want to survive!" MARTIN: "I’m sorry." JON: "Martin. Martin, look at me. Look at me and tell me what you see." Jon can't get through to Martin, not by talking. But a picture is worth more than a thousand words.

MARTIN: "I see…" [MARTIN’S VOICE QUAVERS.] MARTIN: "I see you, Jon." [HE LETS OUT AN INCREDULOUS CHUCKLE, THEN ANOTHER. HIS ECHO GOES AWAY.] MARTIN: "I see you." JON: (relieved) "Martin." [MARTIN’S BREATHING GETS FASTER. HE SOBS, HIS VOICE BREAKING.] Ahhhh, this is really happening!!! (Jon let Martin see his love, right? Let him feel it! God, I can imagine so well how Jon takes Martin's face in his hands so he has to look at him. And then Martin breaks down and Jon just goes in to embrace him.)

MARTIN: "I… I was on my own. I was all on my own." JON: "Not anymore. Come on. Let’s go home." MARTIN: "How?" JON: "Don’t worry. I know the way." [THEY BEGIN TO WALK, AND THE TAPE ENDS.] This did happen! Jon takes Martin's hand and safely leads them out of the mist of the Lonely, right? I wonder though... Where did they come out? I feel like at the panopticon again would be a bit dangerous for Jonah. If they came out right there again, why didn't they, say, take Jonah's body with them? Drag him off his throne, take his power from him. I mean, a bit unromantic, sure, finally hand in hand with the one you love and then there's this old corpse of a third wheel, urgh... But Elias was very insistent to get Jon to grow his powers, he didn't do that for nothing. There still is something Elias wants with Jon.

Well, that's it folks, this was The Magnus Archives! They went home and lived happily ever after, right?.... Right?...

Those two scenes with Jon and Martin were just written beautifully, it was perfect! I was so psyched for them to finally be together, that pining was almost unbearable! (almost!) Not just is JonMartin a wonderful slow burn with lots of unresolved tension (like S4 was perfect for this, have another obstacle to drag this out even more the moment the other person finally realizes their feelings! And again, it didn't feel forced. Often these obstacles in slow burn romances get pretty ridiculous and you can see how this was done just to keep them apart even longer.), this is also not the end of it! I love slow burns, but I hate having the ship finally getting canon on the very last episode(s) of the entire series! It's so frustrating, it's what you're waiting for the whole time and then you don't get to actually enjoy it because the story is over. And even this TMA does exactly how I like it, because this is only S4 and we still get an entire season canon JonMartin! Not gonna lie, there were certain ships I liked and routed for, Adrienette (Miraculous), Catradora (She-Ra), but I was never die-hard invested in them. JonMartin hit me like a train! I never got this borderline obsessiveness with some ships (a good friend of mine for example is a HUUUGE Stucky fan) and yeah, I get it now. And it's not even, that this plot point was sooo surprising for me because that was the one thing I caught a spoiler of, JonMartin. Buuuut, it was only sometime at the beginning of S3, and I already saw potential for them as a ship by the end of S1 and beginning of S2, so even the spoiler wasn't that big of a surprise to me. And I of course didn't know when and how it would happen, only that it's going to be canon.

@a-mag-a-day (also thanks for reblogging my What-if fanart of MAG 158!! I totally forgot I had that, lol

#a-mag-a-day #mag 159 #tma #tma spoilers

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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 3 years

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can't stop thinking of this op danny/guardian spirit/young justice crossover that I can't write because I don't have the DC universe background knowledge for it so I'm gonna just dump the concept here

be prepared for a lot of rambling

so the JL consider Amity Park a Safe Zone in case of dire emergencies

but nobody is told why, only the top members of the Justice League know anything about the place, Robin probably breaks into Batsy's computer and finds something about some hero there named Phantom but he can't find any other info about him or the town other than that he's trustworthy

and maybe the Young Justice crew get fucked up and the JL are indisposed or being distracted or something and the safe houses are compromised so Robin has to be like 'alright team I know this One Place that's supposed to be like a last resort safe space' so they all end up in Amity Park, and their pursuers are right on their tail until they hit the edge of town and then some fucking force of nature comes down on the bad guys following them out of nowhere and fucks them up

they would just be like 'holy shit who is this guy how come we never heard of him??'

and Robin is like 'oh hey so you're Phantom? Batman said this was a safe place to go when we're in trouble'

and he's expecting Danny to know some shit or have a plan or a safehouse to take them to

but Danny's just all 'uhhh this place gets attacked by inter-dimensional monsters every other day why would he send you here for safety? also Batman knows who I am???'

Robin is just confused as all hell because apparently Batman has this town listed as the Ultimate Safehouse and its hero is listed as Trusted but he's never even spoken to the guy?

real sus

but Danny takes them in and finds some abandoned house for them to stay in, and promises that whoever is chasing them will not set foot in this town, like they might have to deal with some ghosts popping up but human threats are no problem

and they're in this empty house that's, okay well it isn't dilapidated or anything but it has no power or water or even security, Phantom just tells them he's got their backs while they recover and don't worry about it

but Robin wants answers so he's quizzing Danny on who he is and why Batman trusts him

but Danny's got no idea, he's surprised the JL even know who he is because nobody has ever come to see him, nobody has ever given him any indication that they even know he's here, which he was kinda peeved about because he had to tackle every ghost attack by himself

but the Justice League not only knew he was here but apparently volunteered him to look after them?

he's a little bit pissy about that, Robin cannot entirely blame him, Robin thinks this whole thing is weird, like there has to be a reason, the JL don't just ignore kids fighting crime on their own, they would have invited him into their team, offered him help and training, not left him to figure it all out alone

although the kid was pretty powerful, he took out a whole crew of bad guys in one breath, literally

true to Danny's word, nobody finds them, the guys who had been hunting them down and chasing them everywhere can't seem to track them here, either that or Phantom just keeps getting in their way when they try, they feel so safe here, safer than they've ever felt before

Megan picks up that there's something unusual about the place, it's like the town itself is telling them that they're safe here, the air is full of love and warmth and comfort, somebody here wants them to feel at ease, somebody here wants them to feel safe

Robin still thinks it's sus

he starts to wonder if Batman was coerced by this psychic force to mark the town as a safe space, but he's pretty sure Batman's too savvy for that, besides, Megan was certain that there was no coercion or ill intent plaguing their minds, it's just a general atmosphere of safety

and she's pretty sure it's coming from Phantom

they witness a ghost fight or two and are amazed that the JL have been ignoring these pretty significant threats and just let some kid handle it alone, sure he has the same powerset as the enemies plus some, but he's still a kid and he's alone

none of them would ever have been allowed this much freedom or this little assistance

super super sus

after the JL finally get out of whatever issue they've been stuck with, they come pick up the kids and Danny is there like 'oh hey I think I need an explanation because what the fuck guys'

and Batman in all his blunt glory just tells him 'we were advised not to interfere unless absolutely necessary'

Danny obviously Does Not Like this answer and wants to know who this guy is that's ordering Batman around, then low and behold, Constantine shows up, immediately balling out Batman because 'why the fuck are you in Amity Park rn I made it VERY CLEAR that this place is a delicate fucking ecosystem if Superman gets god damn overshadowed we are all gonna have problems'

aaaaaand suddenly it all makes sense

Danny realises that any hero who's powerful enough to take on a ghost literally cannot risk that power in the hands of creatures that can just take over their bodies at any time, especially when this is a standard ability in all of Danny's enemies

but he's still shitty because like 'y'all could still have called me or something it would be nice to know I wasn't totally alone out here ya know'

and Constantine is all 'kiddo I literally had the god of time show up in my bedroom at 3am to tell me to make sure none of these fucks tried to adopt you as a side kick, one of them has a track record with this kinda thing it's a legit problem, I couldn't give these fuckers an inch, this town was off limits. so WHY ARE YOU ALL HERE RN'

aaaand Batman has to explain them a thing, basically Phantom is considered so fucking OP and has such an omniscient connection to the town itself that it makes for the perfect hiding place and defence for anyone in dire straights, and it really is only supposed to be a last resort, the side kicks had absolutely nowhere else to go with all of their safe houses compromised

aaaand that's how Danny learns that he is kind of more powerful than most of the god damn Justice League

hope you enjoyed this because I am never gonna be able to actually write it, have a nice day ✨

#lula's aus #danny phantom #overpowered danny #op danny dc edition #guardian spirit au #young justice #justice league #dc

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spacedikut · 4 years

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lockdown lovers ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: lockdown!au. spencer goes from expecting his days to be filled with books, books and more books to books, an asshole cat, and a cute anonymous neighbour. 4857 words

a/n: i was so excited about this and stayed up writing it so i hope you like it too :)

masterlist

It’s three days into lockdown when Spencer notices the cat.

It’s a Maine Coon, he recognises instantly, but there’s this distinctive… dead look in it’s eyes. The body is huge – so fluffy it looks like the cat has a mane, ears invariably up straight and large enough that the eyes look beady in comparison. A mixture of white and grey throughout, the cat spends its days lounging across the windowsill of the apartment in the building next to Spencer’s.

He’s fascinated. How can a cat be so big, so ugly, yet so lovely?

He has to know more.

If he was anyone else, he’d argue the obsession is the fruit of going stir-crazy in his apartment. A lack of seeing his friends combined with having to work cases from home would be the perfect justification for Spencer to move his work station to the window facing the cat.

But this is Spencer. He’s happy being stuck home. He just likes the look of the cat.

He spends a good twenty minutes rifling through his stationary to find a piece of paper and the appropriate pen to jot a note for the cat owner. He thinks the owner must be stuck home, too, so if he sticks the note to his window and waits a day, he could know the cat’s name within twenty four hours.

They’ve had plenty of staring contests. Spencer should know his rival’s name.

So he does. He takes his time writing out the words “I like your cat. Do they have a name?” clearly on the paper, then spends a good five minutes deciding where on the window to stick the message.

He decides on the upper left corner. You won’t miss it.

The cat blinks sleepily at him as they watch Spencer tape the question up.

There’s an answer within three hours.

Spencer is too excited to be embarrassed at how enthused he was when he noticed the response.

Or when he saw the name.

Hi there! His name is Mr Darcy :) He’s a dick x

Spencer can’t help but profile the writing, the syntax, the grammar.

The first thing he notices is there’s a feminine lilt to the way you write – you’re a woman, most likely. The writing is slightly messy, indicating high intelligence, and the use of a smiley face and a kiss makes him think you’re younger in age. If you live alone, which you must because you live in a one bedroom apartment, he can safely guess you’re around his age.

And Mr Darcy… you’re a bookworm. At least for romance and the classics.

Spencer likes Mr Darcy. He has so many questions, suddenly, like how is Mr Darcy a dick and how old is he and why does he never seem to move from his position by the window and what is your name and who are you and do you happen to read a lot of books? Like Ray Bradbury? Please say yes.

He shocks himself. Maybe this quarantine is getting to him more than he realises. He hasn’t felt this excited since Maeve.

He hasn’t been this intrigued since Maeve. And the circumstances are similar, he realises.

No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Spence.

He worries himself into a spiral when he begins thinking about how to reply. As if she can hear his whining, Penelope calls him.

They’ve made it a habit to call one another a lot. She recently taught him how to use his webcam and has been encouraging him to write more on his computer, rather than by hand.

“Good afternoon, my favourite Doctor.” She sings. He hears some shuffling in the background and can tell she’s baking.

“I need your help with something.” He cuts straight to the chase.

Her interest is piqued, “Oh? I am all ears.”

“Remember the cat I mentioned?”

“The ugly-but-beautiful majestic beast that, if you believed in reincarnation, would’ve been a high class gentleman in his past life? Yes. I think about him every day.”

“His name’s Mr Darcy.”

She lets out a screech, a mixture of a groan and moan that is filled with pure glee. “Of course he’s called Mr Darcy! Tell me everything. How do you know?”

He’s clearly impressed with himself when he says, “I asked.”

“Whoa.” Penelope freezes in her kitchen. “Are you, Doctor Germaphobe, breaking the lockdown rules?”

Spencer feels insulted. “No! Never! I stuck a note to my window, like in that viral tweet you sent me.”

She chuckles, “Well, I already told you I could’ve told you everything about Mr Darcy and the owner if you wanted me to. I am incredible.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Garcia-“

“But it’s morally wrong. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. What have you said back?”

“That’s what I need your help with.”

Garcia is only a little surprised he’s asking her and not Derek. But, then, as much as she loves Derek, he’s a bit too.. much for someone like Spencer when it comes to love. Spencer approaches people gently, hesitantly, often giving the impression he doesn’t even want to be there.

Derek can have anyone on their knees within minutes.

Different tactics, that’s all.

“Alright, pretty boy. How long have you been talking? Purely through window messages? What else has been said?”

“Well,” He begins, clearing his throat, making eye contact with Mr Darcy, “We’ve only spoken once. When I asked for Mr Darcy’s name. You know, studies have shown that animals can form lifelong friendships with other animals, even if they’re not from the same species.”

“Spencer.”

“Most research has focused on chimpanzees, baboons, horses, hyenas, elephants, bats, and dolphins - but there’s no reason to think that friendship is exclusive to these species.”

“Spencer!”

“What?”

“You’ve spoken to them once?”

“Her. Spoken to her once. And it wasn’t speaking, it was writing.”

There’s a long sigh down the phone. “First of all, how do you know the owner’s a girl?”

There’s movement in Mr Darcy’s apartment. Spencer stares. “The way she writes.”

“Uhuh,” Spencer can hear her stirring something through the phone, “And what was the last thing said?”

Spencer’s eyes narrow – is that a person? Is that the owner? Is that her? Oh my god.

“Spencer? You still there?” Garcia looks to her laptop, checking the call is still connected.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. The last thing she said was his name is Mr Darcy and he’s a dick.”

“Oh,” Garcia smirks, “It’s sexy hearing you say dick.”

In normal circumstances, Spencer would register her comment and give a very distinct huh, but he’s distracted.

He sees Mr Darcy meow. A hand appears, petite, with fingernails painted yellow that have smiley faces on them. She brushes Mr Darcy’s fur back, pulling so the skin around his eyes tugs up high and he looks stupid. He seems to like it, though.

She must like smileys, he thinks.

Mr Darcy stands and stretches. He’s alarmingly long.

It’s silent on Garcia’s end, where she looks confused at the sudden silence. She checks again that the call is still connected.

“Spence?”

“Still here. Sorry. I thought I saw her.”

“Oooo,” She’s all giddy, “What does she look like? Is she pretty?”

“I couldn’t see her properly. I can tell she’s too cool for me already. This was stupid.” He sighs, “Forget I said anything. I’ll take knowing Mr Darcy’s name and move on with my life.”

Spencer moves to hang up, but is interrupted by a loud “No!” being shouted at him by Garcia.

“No, Spencer! No! You write something back to her right now and you form a friendship with someone that isn’t one of your colleagues. I love you with my whole heart, and you know that, but it would be good for you to expand your social circle!” She grins and bites her tongue between her teeth, “Aaaand.. this could be the start of a quarantine romance. God, I miss dating.”

At the mention of romance, Spencer visibly flinches. “I’ll see what I can do. I gotta go, Garcia, thanks for calling.”

“Love you. Please marry her so Mr Darcy can be the ring bearer.”

And she hangs up. He’s left contemplating whether he should respond, and what he should respond, as he watches the empty space where Mr Darcy is absent.

It must be dinner time for him.

+++

I’m curious as to how someone named Mr Darcy can be a dick.

That’s a good response, right?

Right?

It lets you know he gets the reference, he knows who Mr Darcy is named after, and leads you to continue the conversation. It’s perfect.

It’s taken him nearly two hours to come up with it. He feels exhausted.

He sticks it on the window, where Mr Darcy has returned to, and huffs out a breath.

He reminds himself to be calm and cool. This is simply a way to pass the time during quarantine, there’s no need to put too much pressure on himself to think it’s anything more or to put more effort than is necessary (he says, after spending two hours formulating a response).

Calm and cool. Cool and calm. Neither are words Spencer would ever use to describe himself.

Spencer stays up until nearly 1am reading. Just before he sleeps, he walks to the kitchen to get some water, and can’t resist checking to see if you’ve responded.

You have. He ignores the way his heart speeds up.

He used to share the windowsill with my other cat and a bunch of plants. Now he bites anything that attempts to move near him. He also likes to vomit on my pillow. My single pillow.

Spencer chuckles as he reads it. He remembers when the window was full of plants, and how one day they all just… disappeared. He assumed the person moved out, but now it’s funny to think that you had to move them all because Mr Darcy demanded he own that space.

He doesn’t recall ever seeing another cat.

Well, now he has to respond. He needs to know about the other cat!

He imagines Derek coming to him in an apparition, like some sort of angel, and saying, calm and cool, kid. Calm and cool.

Spencer decides he’ll reply in the morning. Cause he’s calm and cool, and totally doesn’t want to know anything and everything about you and the two cats you live with.

+++

The messages continue for days. Spencer learns a lot, despite his “attempts” to not profile you (“attempts” as in there was really no attempt).

He learns you were given Mr Darcy by a friend, he’s two years old, and your other cat is the recently adopted, affectionately named Stupid Sally. She’s a ginger cat, estimated to be at least four years old, and you refuse to believe there’s anything going on in that tiny head of hers.

Spencer catches a glimpse of Sally a couple of days after he learns her name. She jumps up beside Mr Darcy, bonks her head on the window, then is whacked by Mr Darcy and falls from the windowsill. Sally doesn’t make another attempt.

He still hasn’t seen you, though. The longer he talks to you, the more he wants Garcia to send him everything she can find on you.

But he has restraint. And fear.

He wants to know more, wants to learn more about the anonymous girl in the opposite building. He doesn’t even know your name, and he assumes you don’t know his, and he’s not entirely sure what number apartment you live in.

He considers asking to convert your conversation from post-it notes on windows to hand-written letters, but that reminds Spencer too much of Maeve and he can’t handle that.

Do you know how difficult it is for Spencer Reid, with all his knowledge and facts and ramblings, to limit himself and how much he says?

It’s torture.

The sun is blinding when Spencer pulls his curtain back, eyes navigating to see if there’s a new message waiting.

I haven’t asked, do you have any cats? Any pets? Mr Darcy would be a terrible boyfriend but Sally could use a lover :)

Before he can stop himself, his mind is whirring with the possible implications of your message. Does this mean you want to meet? You want to know about him as much as he wants to know about you? You’re interested?

He needs to call Penelope. He wants to talk to you so badly, learn everything there is to know, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The situation reminds him of Maeve and, although it’s been so long, he’s still mourning. He’s not sure he’s ready.

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry. You’ve got your own plan.

+++

“So,” Your friend sighs, flopping onto the couch, “You got his number? His name? Anything?”

“No,” You pout, “Not even sure he’s a guy.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

You playfully gasp. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I am insulted.”

She chuckles. She knows all about your curious neighbour - she’s the one that encouraged you to reply and keep replying. And now she’s the one trying to convince you to form an actual friendship.

“Just put your number on your window.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is?!” You scold, “Anyone could see it!”

“Yeah, but neighbour guy could see it. And text you. And be really cute.”

You can’t help but glance behind you, into your bedroom window, where the infamous window is. Mr Darcy lounges, completely zonked out with the sunshine keeping him warm.

“What’s the worst that can happen? Some random people text you and you, what, block them? That’s it. Easy.”

Life is so easy for extroverts, you think.

You grab your notebook, rip a piece out and jot down your number before you have a change of heart. You’re essentially double messaging through the medium of your window messaging. But who cares?

What have you got to lose?

+++

Spencer stares at your phone number for way too long. Mr Darcy, as if sensing Spencer’s battle, lazily lifts a paw and rests it against the paper, pushing it into the window.

Spencer dials Penelope’s number straight from memory.

“I was beginning to think you’d died, Spencer-“

“Is it a terrible idea to start texting with Mr Darcy’s owner?”

“What?!” She exclaims, “No! No no no no no! That is an incredible idea! Spencer, please tell me you’re texting her!”

Penelope’s excitement gives him a rush of confidence. She’s always so supportive, so encouraging. Penelope is the best.

“I’m staring at her phone number. I just- we know what happened last time..” He trails off, voice meek. He wants to pretend he isn’t constantly thinking about the worst outcome, but he is. He’s scared.

Penelope’s voice is soft down the phone, “Spence. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay? I’m so proud of you for even considering texting her. But if you truly think you’re not ready, maybe you’re not. But remember, this doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to. You can keep the conversation to cats and cats only.”

Spencer smiles even though she can’t see him. She’s right. It doesn’t have to be anything and, honestly, it’s likely it won’t be anything – after all, Spencer isn’t exactly confident when it comes to women.

She might also have a boyfriend. A husband. A wife. He doesn’t know.

He realises he’s started thinking way too deep about someone he doesn’t even know the name of.

“Does that silence mean you’re gonna text her?” Penelope questions, suspense and hope clear in her voice.

“Yeah,” He replies, glancing at Mr Darcy, “I am.”

+++

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Hello. I’m Spencer.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner] hello??????? do i know a spencer?

Embarrassment flushes through him. What a weird way to introduce yourself, he chastises himself, Great first impression.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s owner]: Sorry. I’m the one that’s been asking about your cats through the window.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: really? prove it

He wants to feel insulted that you’re so suspicious, but is simultaneously impressed that you’re so cautious. It makes sense to worry after posting your number for anyone to see.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Of course. I’ll put a note on my window with my number now.

He does just that, shuffling quickly and frantically like he does when his mind is moving a thousand miles a minute during a case. He slaps the note against the window, unable to resist hovering on the off chance he spots you.

His phone buzzes.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: oh hi spencer! im Y/N, owner of Mr Darcy and sally :)

He can’t help but chuckle at the sudden change of tone. You take stranger danger seriously, it seems.

Why does he find that so endearing?

He’s getting ahead of himself, again. Calm and cool.

They pick up the conversation from where the last note left off, where you asked Spencer if he has any pets of his own. He finds it much easier to talk to you like this, rambling and all, which you don’t seem to mind. Your texting style is distinctively different to his, making his phone vibrate multiple times as you send each sentence of your message separately. He prefers writing chunks full of information, all with perfect grammar and punctuation.

You teach him what ‘wtf’ means and when he sends a meme to Penelope with that caption she loses her damn mind.

She decides she loves you there and then.

A friendship blossoms. It’s odd, he doesn’t know what you look like and you admit to catching a glimpse of him when he showed you his number through the window, but other than that you have no idea what the other looks like.

You know so much about eachother’s lives, though, and so much about eachother. You know which apartment you both live in, he’s got a whole list of reasons why Mr Darcy is a dick and he kind of agrees, you even know that he’s an FBI agent.

Then it happens.

He discovers what you look like.

He wants to play it off as an accident, he really does, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

The area under the window opposite yours has become his new sanctuary. He spends way too much time there, reading and whatnot, and he tries to pretend that it’s so he can watch Mr Darcy all day every day, but there’s always been a part of him that wants you to walk by. Maybe stop right in the centre of the window, pause, let him get a good look.

That’s exactly what happens.

He’s doing some “light” reading before he moves to his bed, where he will continue to read, and he sees the main light in your bedroom switch on. You always have a light on – you’re scared of the dark, just like him, but the main light catches his attention because Mr Darcy looks back and meows.

Someone’s in the room.

For some reason, he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s not the first time he’s noticed someone flutter around the room, never managing to really show themselves. It could the best friend you told Spencer about, the one that you’ve been stuck living with the past month or so.

But it’s not.

A girl appears, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts with still-wet hair. She dangles a cat toy before Mr Darcy, which he swipes at twice, then looks away, uninterested.

She rolls her eyes at that, then starts dancing and mouthing along to a song Spencer doesn’t recognise. Now he can’t stop staring – she’s captivating, whoever she is, as she prances around her room, arms flailing around and serenading a very unimpressed Mr Darcy.

This has to be you, he thinks. He doesn’t know why, but this has to be you.

Your passionate singing dies out. It’s the end of the song. Before the next one can begin, you happen to look up and through the window, straight at Spencer.

And you disappear.

You collapse. You definitely scream a little, dramatically falling to the floor and hiding under the window with your back to the wall.

Holy shit. You think. He’s cute and he saw me singing to my asshole cat.

He must think I’m crazy.

Spencer keeps staring at the now empty space of your window, Mr Darcy having been spooked by your exit.

He thinks he might be in love.

+++

Neither of you know what to say to one another after what transpired.

You’re too embarrassed, Spencer feels a little star-struck, and you’re both speechless.

Neither of you expected the other to be so.. attractive.

Your phone is thrown in your lap. “Do it. Do it now.”

In a daze, you blink up at your friend, “I can’t.”

“Don’t make me threaten you.”

You blink.

“I know where he lives. I will obliterate the lockdown rules to go talk to him and drag him here, then you can deal with this face-to-face.”

Your mouth falls open. “Are you insane?”

She unlocks your phone, opens your conversation with Spencer, and places it in your hand.

“Yes.”

+++

[From: Y/N :)]: did you at least enjoy the performance…..

Spencer’s whole body prickles when he sees you’ve texted him.

Maybe Penelope’s manifesting did work.

[To: Y/N :)]: I did. I didn’t expect our face reveals to be so…

I honestly don’t know what to say.

[From: Y/N :)]: s doctor reid speechless? am i that talented?

Spencer lies back on his couch, beaming at his phone like a teenager in a cheesy chick flick.

[To: Y/N :)]: You’re very talented. Mr Darcy clearly disagrees, but don’t listen to him.

And just like that, you’re back in the flow of things.

+++

When July rolls around, you and Spencer have been talking every day since March. Despite the monotonous, repetitive days, Spencer wakes up giddy when he sees you’ve texted him. He usually wakes up earlier than you, you have a habit of playing games or watching television until the early hours of the morning, and he loves to send you a fact to wake up to.

Your favourite are the animal facts. He got Amazon Prime just so he could buy a plethora of animal books and watch animal documentaries. All for you.

At one point, you evolved to phone calls. They don’t happen often and the first one was while you were drunk, but they’re fun for the both of you.

It had been a Saturday, you and your friend were having a movie marathon with wine and of course she brought up Spencer. She choked on her drink when you told her you haven’t heard his voice or seen him since the incident.

“You should call him,” She slurred, “Tonight.”

“He’s working on his jigsaw. I’m not going to interrupt.”

She gave you this incredulous look, asking Really?

“What?! I have respect for him and his jigsaws!”

“Have respect for yourself and how cute he is!”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

She sighed, placing her glass on the coffee table with a clunk, “Picture this: you’re helping him with the jigsaw.”

You couldn’t hide the slight upturn of your lips at the thought. You both love jigsaws, doing one with him would be stupidly romantic to you.

“Yeah.” She nodded ridiculously, “That ain’t gonna happen if you don’t call him!”

In your drunken state, you realised she’s right. You called him that night for a total of ten minutes before you passed out after calling him super handsome.

You both went to sleep feeling warm inside. Spencer called you again the next day, where the call lasted nearly two hours, and it went from there.

But now the lockdown rules are being eased. People are going back to work, meaning establishments like restaurants and hairdressers are opening up with limited capacity, all breathing beings expected to wear a mask.

Neither of you have mentioned actually meeting one another. You’re too nervous. What if he doesn’t like you? What if the image he’s created of you in his head is way better than you are in real life and he’s disappointed? What if he doesn’t want to meet you?

Spencer worries about the exact same things.

So neither of you say anything.

+++

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Spencer’s mail gets sent to the wrong address. Perhaps to his neighbour, the person living across the hall, or someone on a completely different floor.

Twice, Spencer’s mail has been delivered to the apartment building next door. The building he now exclusively calls “Y/N’s building”.

Now it’s three times.

Unphased by the mask on his face, Spencer glances around the lobby of your apartment building and wonders what your routine is when you get home. Do you immediately check for packages? Look at the noticeboard? Or do you go straight up to your apartment?

Spencer walks to the reception desk, smiling politely even though the person can’t see it.

“Hi, I’m from the building next door. I think my mail was accidentally sent here?”

He clicks a few buttons, types a few things, then flippantly asks, “Apartment number?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Let me go get it.”

He takes his time leaving his chair and wandering through a door. Spencer glances around. There’s a few people, all wearing masks (Thank God), doing their own thing.

There’s two girls next to him. He eavesdrops, because he’s bored.

“I’m too used to living with you now,” The girl facing him pouts, “I don’t want to go.”

The girl with her back to him laughs, light and sweet, “You live a block away.”

“You know Sally is gonna miss me.”

Sally? As in…

“She’s gonna miss you only because you feed her too much and now she’s fat.”

Wait.

“C’mon, Y/N-“

Spencer blocks out the rest cause holy hell. You’re right there. You’re standing right next to Spencer, in all your glory, and you have no idea that he’s right there, too.

Should he say something? Should he introduce himself? Should he..

“Here, sir. My apologies for the mix-up.” The receptionist re-appears, handing Spencer his mail.

“Thank you.”

And Spencer leaves.

Except he doesn’t.

He stops outside the reception entrance, takes out his phone, and texts you.

[To: Y/N :)] This is weird but I’m right outside your building. I think you’re in the foyer and I’m too scared to approach you.

Two minutes pass before the building doors fly open.

Your head swivels back and forth. When you find Spencer, adorable and awkward Spencer, he can tell you’re grinning from the way your eyes bunch up under your mask. God, he knows you have the most beautiful smile. Everything about you is beautiful.

“Hi,” You breathe.

Spencer mouths a silent hi. You’ve taken his breath away.

“I-um. It’s good to see you in person.” Your voice is soft. It’s soft, and smooth, and so much prettier in real life. It’s already pretty through the phone, but the real version shoots straight to his heart.

He gulps, “Yeah, it’s.. Unexpected, but nice.” The corners of his mouth quirk up and he can’t tear his eyes away from you, “You’re even more gorgeous in real life.”

The compliment rolls off his tongue naturally because it’s true and from the second he spotted you he’s lost all logical thinking.

“I am?” You ask, gentle and hesitant, almost asking are you sure you mean me?

Spencer blushes, somewhat embarrassed by his confession. But he meant it, Spencer’s not the type to say things he doesn’t mean, and you don’t give him time to regret it-

“Would you like to get some coffee? If you’re free now?”

Would it be too much if he screams Yes?

“Yes. I’m free,” He ignores the mail in his hands, stuffing it in his satchel, “But let’s avoid Café Nero, I assume you still haven’t recovered from the nightmare latte you had there.”

You grin, which makes Spencer feel fuzzy, flattered that he remembers anecdotes from your texts.

Of course he remembers. You remember he has an eidetic memory.

You shyly brush your hair behind your ears, both sides, and Spencer spots the bright red of them. You’re flushed, just like him, and it fills him with confidence to know you’re the same mixture of excited and anxious about meeting him in person.

“W-what about your friend?” Spencer gestures vaguely to where he assumes she’d be, “Would she mind?”

“She’s the reason I ran out here, so… I think she’d be mad if we didn’t leave her behind.”

You smile at one another, a few feet apart. Spencer’s bumped into by the opening door of your apartment complex and stumbles, apologising profusely to the unimpressed woman that just stares at him.

Through the entire ordeal you watch Spencer, only him, and can’t stop the radiant, love-filled look on your face.

Maybe Mr Darcy isn’t such a dick when he’s the reason Spencer came into your life.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #oh to be spencer reid's neighbour that he falls completely in love with during the lockdown

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emixion · 3 years

Text

Protect - Day 18 - Maribat March 2021

I know you guys have been wanting this one. So here’s Damian chewing out Lila (finally) @maribatmarch-2k21 ao3 link Marinette life was usually full of unexpected occurrences, she was a superhero for crying out loud, yet nothing could have prepared her for the absolute whiplash her boyfriend caused her today.

It all started a couple of weeks ago when Damian announced that he and his family were visiting Paris. He had convinced his father to move up a business meeting he had in a few months so he could see her. Marinette had been very excited and waited eagerly for his arrival.

Unfortunately, news travelled fast and it wasn’t long before her entire class knew that The Waynes would be in town for a few weeks. Lila of course took the opportunity to slip in another lie, and proclaimed that not only did she know the Waynes personally, but that she was also dating their youngest son.

Marinette had been furious.

While she’d tried taking the high road these past few months like Adrien asked, dragging her boyfriend into the fray was crossing a line. She would not stand for it.

“That’s not true.” She bit out. “You’re lying.”

Aaaand cue the crocodile tears.

Lila immediately put on her faux waterworks, blubbering out the usual spiel about Marinette being a bully and targeting her and blah, blah, blah.

When scolded, Marinette told the class that she knew Lila was lying because she was the one dating the youngest Wayne, not her.

“What’s his name if you’re supposedly dating?” Marinette prodded, taking satisfaction in the way Lila’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

“Oh, come on, Marinette.” Kim butted in. “Everyone knows it’s Damian.”

Marinette could’ve strangled him right there.

The class immediately turned on her, deciding that she was the liar and was just jealous of Lila’s connections. Marinette nearly banged her head on the desk out of pure frustration.

After class had ended and Marinette sulked home, she video called her boyfriend and told him everything, watching his face darken as she described the way the class immediately dismissed her.

“Your class is full of imbeciles.” He huffed.

Marinette giggled. “They’re…easily persuaded.”

“They’re moronic is what they are.”

“Damian!” She exclaimed, scandalized.

“I mean it, Angel. They’ve been doing this for ages now, when will they wake up and realize that they’ve succumbed to the mercy of a complete liar?”

Marinette sighed. “I wish I knew, Dove. Nothing I do seems to work.”

Damian’s face twisted with thought. “Marinette. Are you still opposed to exposing the Rossi girl?” He asked, voice serious.

“I mean…” She trailed off. “I was, but…”

“But?”

“She dragged you into it, Damian. I can’t just sit by and watch her lie about you. You don’t deserve that.” She said softly..

“You don’t deserve it either.” Damian added.

“I know, I know.” Marinette looked down at her shoes. Damian’s thinking face reappeared.

“I’m gonna pull a few strings.” He stated. “And we’re going to fix everything.”

“What?” Marinette asked, confused.

“I’ve got to go, Angel. There are things I need to arrange. Just trust me, alright?”

“Oh, um, alright?” Marinette answered warily. The couple said goodbye and Marinette was left sitting at her computer completely stumped.

Two days later, Marinette sat in class, discretely checking her phone every once in a while. She hadn’t heard from Damian since their call the other day and she was starting to worry. It wasn’t like him to not answer her.

She was pulled from her thoughts when one of her classmates shouted something and pointed at the window. Marinette blinked herself into focus and followed her peers to look out the window.

Her jaw nearly hit the floor when she saw her boyfriend step out of a stretch limo in front of the school. He dusted himself off as he exited the limo, his green eyes hard.

The other students were awestruck, chatting excitedly.

“Look at the limo!”

“Oh my god, it’s the Waynes!”

“Aren’t they not due in Paris until next week?”

“They must’ve come early so Damian could surprise Lila!”

Marinette’s daze started to clear as she realized what her boyfriend had been doing for the past thirty-six hours. Clever little sneak.

Once the lunch bell rang, every kid in Bustier’s class booked it out front, eager to see Lila reunite with her ‘“boyfriend.”

Damian stood waiting on the front step and oh my god was he holding flowers?!

Her classmates were trying to push a suddenly very shy Lila forward to see Damian, thoroughly convinced he was here for her.

They were not expecting him to march right past Lila and up to Marinette, kissing her sweetly as soon as he reached her.

Marinette let out a small ‘mmph!’ as his lips met hers, but quickly relaxed into the kiss as Damian pulled her against him. Once he pulled away, Damian smiled softly at her.

“Hello, Angel.” he whispered, handing her the flowers. “I missed you.”

Marinette’s cheeks burned. She couldn’t believe he’d just done that in front of her whole class. “I-I missed you too.” She smiled shyly and lifted the flowers to her face to sniff them. “Thank you for the flowers.”

“Anything for my angel.” He said fondly, brushing the girl’s bangs out of her eyes. The moment was interrupted by her peers’ outrage, some of them demanding to know what was going on, some grilling Lila, some coming to her aid.

“Hey!” Damian yelled, and everyone went dead silent. “Which one of you is Lila Rossi?” He asked.

It was comical, the way the crowd parted away from her.

Damian stomped over to the petrified looking girl, putting on his best Al Ghul glare.

“Listen to me,” He began, his voice dripping with venom. “If you ever try to use my family’s name for your own gain again, I will sue you for everything you have. And if you ever hurt Marinette again, I will make you regret the day you were born. Understood?”

The liar just nodded meekly, her face drained of all color. Damian glared at her for another moment before returning to his angel’s side, wrapping a protective arm around her waist.

“That goes for every single one of you in her class.” He continued. “Marinette tried to warn you about her lies this entire time and this is how you repay her? You are all pathetic.” He spat, taking pleasure in the way their faces dropped in shame.

Turning to look at Marinette, his face instantly softened. “Would you like to go to lunch, Angel? My siblings are desperate to see you.”

Marinette beamed. “I would be delighted.”

As they walked away, Damian suddenly stopped and turned to face the stunned class.

“Oh, yeah, not only was Rossi lying this entire time, but Agreste over there knew it and didn’t say anything. Go wild.” He said and then led his angel into the limo as the shouting at Lila and Adrien began.

Marinette laid her head on his shoulder as they drove away, leaving the burning class behind to face their own mistakes.

#maribat #maribat march #maribat march 2021 #daminette #maridami #marinette x damian #ml x dc #mlb x dc

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crackinwise · 3 years

Text

My pet AU is Kiyotaka and Mondo somehow out in the post-Tragedy Japan, surviving and saving people. Like either they didn't agree to stay locked in Hope's Peak for safety, or they survived the game and left with the others but didn't join Future Foundation. Major points up front, details divided into sections under the cut:

Mondo's objective would be to find his gang, and Taka's goal, besides finding his dad, would be repairing society while punishing those responsible for its destruction. But their direct task is keeping each other safe & helping victims along the way.

Mondo even stresses calling Taka "Ishimaru" instead of "bro" or his given name in front of others, so they might KNOW who's saving them. Taka caught on quick & is very grateful.

Taka would have kind of a breakdown reconciling who he is with what he has to do in a lawless world where every public moral is ignored. He keeps a small ledger of places they loot from, to compensate in the future.

At the start, Taka can only sleep burrowed against Mondo's chest or back, blocking out their damaged surroundings & pretending everything is as it was.

He cries in Mondo's arms one night after he couldn't avoid killing someone to save Mondo's life, and that's the tipping point. He thinks if he was better, stronger like his bro, he'd have noticed sooner & found a better option. Mondo is being so brave; he's Taka's rock and Taka wants to be as steady for him too. Their souls are already connected so obviously he just has to borrow more of Mondo's spirit, right?

That's how Ishida is created.

(In reality, Mondo just compartmentalizes and shoves down unhelpful feelings. You thought he needed therapy BEFORE all this, oh man-)

Ishida:

Taka ends up slipping into the Ishida facade for fight and flight; any time adrenaline kicks in and he feels he needs that boost. Sadly, that's most of their waking time. He guards Mondo and anyone they're saving like a fierce watchdog, and won't hesitate to bite.

He'll only come out of the role when he personally verifies it's safe and if Mondo can confirm it. Survivors are confused by the dual-sided Ishimaru switching right in front of them, but they're so grateful (and so much weird crap has happened) that it never phases them long.

Too many times, Ishida will go all day without a break. This means when their hideout for the night is absolutely safe, that it's okay to let go, Taka just collapses in exhaustion. But Mondo is there to catch him.

Mondo feels conflicted over the Ishida role because Taka is just a beast in it--it's very flattering and a little hot--but it also makes him worry more than before about Taka's health. He comforts Taka with a lot of praise and reassurances, and Taka sleeps lightly but otherwise fine.

Relationship: (slight mature warning)

When they touch, Taka swears he can feel the link between them flare to fuel them. Twin fires ignited. Mondo doesn't know about all that, but when their eyes meet it definitely makes him feel invincible, so, he can believe.

If they weren't already new boyfriends when The Tragedy hit, all this closeness makes sure of that soon after. Being together is their happiness and, for a while, their only link to pre-Tragedy lives. Vows not unlike marriage were exchanged one night. Where one goes, the other will follow. Anywhere. Always.

When they kiss, safe and alone, Mondo will ask what Taka wants; what he can handle that night. Sometimes it's just the kisses before passing out, sometimes it's more intimate touches to please them both after another hellish day.

Sometimes Taka will ask to be made love to, for obvious couple reasons, but also because Mondo inside him makes their tether feel stronger, more complete. Like going over the invisible line in bold marker. Taka believes any marks they can create with their mouths, any traces of themselves they can leave on or in each other, the easier they can find their bond and tap into it. (He had started a nervous habit of pressing in on lovebites to keep Ishida going when tired.)

Mondo tells him he doesn't need to find a poetic excuse for fetishes and Taka lovingly answers with a stomach punch.

Crazy Diamonds:

Mondo's gang members, the ones not dead or overcome with Despair, are slowly found and joined back up.

Any smaller and sturdier motorcycles are kept when found. If Mondo was able to keep his own in this version, it's a bit heavier than would be good for any off-roading--and much too loud for any stealth--but he refuses to part with it.

Every gang member respected Taka/Ishida the second they saw him fight beside their leader. Before Mondo says a word about him. They readily take orders from him in either form. The change in appearance was a surprise, but they're already used to some members wildly changing demeanor in or away from the gang, so it's easily accepted.

With the gang as backup to keep watch during downtime--after Ishida sized each one up and watched them for loyalty--the pair can feel a lot more relaxed. They joke about having a date in a blown-out restaurant they find, and they can finally enjoy a deep sleep.

When the group finds safehouses with more than one room, Mondo & Taka are given their privacy. Taka tries to insist everyone deserves a chance at privacy and they should rotate, but changing a gang's long-established hierarchy is a losing battle. And Mondo's not on his side because when they're alone he can be as sappy or touchy as he likes.

Legends:

Taka and Mondo save a lot of people over their journey and kinda become a legend that gets spread around and gives people Hope.

This area still needs work from me. Probably some research into Japanese myths and supernatural symbolism. A placeholder right now is something corny like "Two Men with burning eyes and thunderous voices will answer your cries for help. But if you're evil, the two will appear to you as One Demon and drag you down to the land of the dead."

There's also probably a need for costume changes since their color scheme is the same black & white of the Despair Remnants and monokumas killing people. Legend or not, it'd be easy for traumatized survivors to not know they're good guys at first.

Darker Moments: (blood, violence and vague attempted sexual assault)

After he killed a man to save Mondo, Taka luckily (he wouldn't use that word) doesn't have to again. Hurt? Yes. Beat unconscious? Yes. Maim? Yes, but some of the vile dregs of humanity are caught doing things that deserve worse--

--That deserve Mondo. Once when they were still traveling alone, a group of Remnants jumped them, managing to separate the two, and one knocked Taka out with a bad blow to the head. Mondo dispatched the others attacking him and got to Taka right as the Remnant was about to do something unforgivable.

Mondo snapped. He still doesn't remember what he did, he just remembers coming to in all the blood and dazedly picking Taka up to take him to a place he knew was safe.

Taka never finds out. He woke up a day later with a bandaged head and Mondo crying and kissing his hands. Mondo just told him he beat some and scared away the others.

Minor Details:

They try to always fight back-to-back and, to observers, seem to read each other's mind for where to move.

Taka/Ishida would use a sword or hand-to-hand. The pickaxe might just be a random pickaxe they find, if he uses it at all. Kinda hard to carry both a sword and a railroad pickaxe on your back, and I can't imagine it balances very well. (The size in official pics would be a 5lb head w/2-3lb handle.)

Mondo seems like he would use anything lying in debris to fight. Poles, pipes, chains. Aaaand maybe the knives he mentions in School Mode.

For any costume changes, Mondo would keep his jacket at least. A beacon for the Diamonds. Maybe a purple tank top, and different pants better for knife holsters. Unless the holster should wrap around his waist or hip instead?

Any changes to Taka's outfit would keep his armband. It's a reminder of his Talent and his goal to make Japan even better than before. Also wanna keep his boots or change to more rugged ones.

End Goal:

Obviously they'd end up in Towa, after the events of Ultra Despair Girls. They're reunited with Takaaki and Takemichi. Maybe they help set things right there a bit, or Makoto would get word to them about his plans vs Future Foundation's. Look at me, do I look like someone that knows how to end things?

There is no way you read all that. (I love you if you did.) But feel free to use all or any bits of it in your own works. Almost positive I'll never get to compose all this into a coherent fic format. I might update in short scenario posts under a 'Tragedy-survivor au' tag if I think of anything.

If you have a question or want something expanded upon, ask away.

#ishimondo #kiyotaka ishimaru #kiyondo ishida #mondo oowada #danganronpa #Tragedy-survivor au #i've only read like 2 fics that had this concept but it was ensemble so the boys weren't the focus which hurt me

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that-bi-bitch-writes · 3 years

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A Cursed Reality-JJK x M!Reader (Ch.2)

Question: Do you guys prefer longer chapters or shorter chapters? I’ve been making an effort to write longer chapters but if you hate reading them I’ll write them less.

Warnings: fluff, comparison of Inumaki’s speech to a disability/handicap, cursing. Dislike of Maki (Not me. wrong bitch. I love her)

Previous || Next

Chapter Two:

[Name] actively dislikes hanging out with the second years. Not that they’re bad people in any way, it’s just he’s anxious and awkward, and even after spending a year familiarizing himself with the school and the people in it, there’s like a small group of people he would invite to his birthday party.

That and he just doesn’t care for Maki Zen’in. And it is most definitely mutual. To him, she’s just pretty. She also won’t die in a battle between her and a curse below first grade. But that’s about the end of her appeal. Of course, Panda is fun to tease but he typically plays the peacemaker between the second years. [Name] would rather not care about people in peace.

There’s no dramatic reason to it all, it’s just [Name] didn’t really come to Jujutsu Tech by choice so he hadn’t intended on making friends. He obviously failed considering he befriended Inumaki within his first day and they have some homoromantic vibes going on in their friendship.

That’s not to say you can’t platonic cuddle with your best friend but when you longingly gaze into each other’s eyes and he’s the only friend you’ve made besides an annoyingly hyper 30-year-old because no one else understands you like he does… And it kind of goes both ways considering you’re the only person he trusts himself enough to have a full-on conversation with.

Yeah, it’s not looking very good for the argument that they’re not gay. They’re not though. At least not now.

“[Name]”

“Yeah toge?”

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind” Inumaki responded. And although he had plenty of experience saying words, having a conversation without using safe words felt a little weird. It was an aspect of who he was now and [Name] being immune to the cursed speech wouldn’t erase the problems he had with talking and it didn’t make [Name] his savior or soulmate.

Luckily [Name] was both lonely and not a complete asshole because he had no problems adapting to the switch between Toge’s ‘onigiri glossary’. Learning it was actually a really fun experience because it turns out Inumaki did not have the exact translation of all his safe words. He would just say an ingredient and [Name] had to fill in the blanks. There was a lot of trial and error and a lot of [Name] smiling down at Inumaki’s concentrated face.

“I was just thinking.” [Name] broke the contemplative silence.

“Hmm”

“You know” [Name] started again “... They say it was believed people kept their souls in their throats” and as Inumaki gave a confused denial (“fish flakes”) [Name] was internally panicking on whether or not he should keep going with this specific train of thought or make a joke to deflect from the very real and emotional but corny statement he was about to utter.

“Ah fuck it. I want to exercise the curses in the world or at least enough to keep you safe so you don’t keep damaging your soul when you use your cursed technique”

“Sujiko”

[Name] looked at Inumaki. And as if breaking off pieces of his soul didn’t matter to him, Inumaki spoke, a short sentence that stunned [Name] into silence

“I love you”

If Gojo hadn’t come in, they might’ve kissed.

“[Name]-kun!!!”

Aaaand [Name]’s sentimental mood was gone. Don’t get him wrong, Gojo definitely would get an invite to [Name]’s birthday party, but the man was like 30 running around being overly cheerful and with that teasing nature he was definitely repressing some trauma. He also definitely had some of the worst timing

“What is it Gojo?”

“No sensei at the end? So mean!

“Fushiguro was sent out to find a cursed object but he’s been out all day with no calls back home or anything. Of course I plan on going to check on my beloved student, but I am busy for the next hour or so. Can you please check on him? For your favorite sensei?”

“My favorite sensei is actually Nanami and he’s not even a sensei but yeah I’ll check on the emo kid”

‘You’re pretty emo yourself dude’ Gojo thought to himself

“Ah Thank you [Name]-kun. You’re a lifesaver” Gojo called out behind him as he left to do whatever it is crazy white haired ‘old’ men do.

‘He’s/I’m totally not doing this for free’ both [Name] and Inumaki thought at the same time.

[Name] got up suddenly and started getting ready to leave paying no attention to Inumaki who watched him get ready with a casual interest. Before [Name] headed out, he turned to look at Inumaki with a serious and concentrated expression.

“Toge.”

“I love you”

“What the hell happened here?”

“....”

“Fushiguro-kun, if you please”

“Well I only know half of the story so it’s best if we hear it from Itadori”

All eyes whipped to the shirtless Yuji who had just gotten control of his body back from Sukuna, the apparent king of curses.

“I’d say it started when I went to school this morning but I think it started a little earlier for Fushiguro. Right Fushiguro?” Yuji asked

‘I swear I’m going to explode if someone doesn’t tell me the how we got this far I mean Fushiguro is bleeding from his head, this pink haired enthusiastic kid is possessed and I can’t tell if he’s too sweet to care or if he lost a few of his brain cells when he and the little emo first year wrecked this building’ [Name] thought to himself.

Clearing his throat he began “Well okay Fushiguro has a lot of really bad injuries so is it okay with you if he just quickly shares his part and then you take over?”

“Ohh Yeah that makes sense” Itadori awed and both he and [Name] turned their attention to poor Megumi who was bleeding from his forehead.

“Yesterday I was sent to retrieve a special grade cursed object and when I got there it was gone. Gojo sensei told me I couldn’t go home until it was recovered. The next day I stalked around the school and investigated when I saw Yuji for the first time.”

“Oh I remember that. It’s my turn to take over now. Uhh. I was in the occult club with my senpais Sasaki and Iguchi and we were asking the spirits about which animal the Student Council President was weaker than ( a fish) and then he burst in the room because he didn’t approve of our club-”

“Fast forward please” [Name] interrupted

“Fushiguro found me after my grandpa died and told me Iguchi and Sasaki were in danger because of the finger so I led him to the school where they said they were going to peel off the seal”

“And that’s why we’re here” [Name] surmised

“So what’s the situation”

“Gojo-sensei”/ “Old Man what are you doing here?” Megumi and [Name] called out

“I wasn’t gonna come but the higher ups got involved. I knew you’d all be fine though, I sent [Name] here to deal with it.”

“That’s true” Fushiguo mumbled

“I’m glad you all have faith in me” [Name] started “But that means I came here for absolutely nothing”

“... So did you find it?” Gojo asked

“Um sorry.... I ate it”

Gojo who didn’t hear the whole introduction and [Name] who didn’t quite get to the eating of the finger part in the story turned to Yuji in shock

“For real”

“Haha you’re not kidding. They’re combined. How does your body feel?” Gojo asked Yuji

“Okay”

“Can you switch to Sukuna?”

“Sukuna?” Yuji asked

“The curse object you ate”

“Oh yeah. Probably”

“Ten seconds” gojo said “Take control again after ten seconds”

“I dunno about this”

“Don’t worry. I’m the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer”

Megumi looked to [Name] after hearing a curious “hmm” but [Name]’s face showed no anger or displeasure.

“Megumi hold onto this will ya” Gojo’s voice bled through Megumi’s thoughts of who would win between [Name] and Gojo. Give it a year or two and it might actually be [Name].

“What’s this?” Megumi asked

‘It better be a fucking weapon’ [Name] thought ‘Because if he sent me out because his important business was shopping he’s gonna regret it’

“Kikufuku Mochi” Gojo replied casually before feeling bloodlust leaking from [Name]. He’ll just have to make it up to the second year somehow

“Behind you” Fushiguro called out and [Name] sucked his teeth hoping Gojo would get hit at least once. He did not get his wish once

“I’ve got a student watching so..I hope you don’t mind if I show off a little bit” . And after that Gojo commenced kicking Sukuna’s ass. Sukuna tried to monologue a little as he sent out a powerful attack, but he missed Gojo on account of Gojo’s infinity dispelling the attack. By the time Sukuna realized Gojo was unharmed it was time for Yuji to switch back.

“Oh was everything okay?” Yuji asked as he came to his senses.

“Oh what a surprise” Gojo responded “You really can control it”

“Yeah, but he’s kind of annoying”

“It’s a miracle that’s the only side effect” Gojo said right before knocking Yuji out with one finger

“If he wakes up and isn't possessed, he might have potential as a vessel. Okay question for you two. What do I do with him?”

“Even if he is a potential vessel… He must be executed under jujutsu regulations…

“But I don’t want to let him die”

“Is that a personal opinion? Gojo asked

“Yes, a personal opinion. Please do something about it.

Gojo smiled and the two of them turned their attention towards [Name] who had been silent throughout the whole experience.

‘Besides being a little too excitable, he’s not bad. Like a puppy. I’d keep him as a pet.’ [Name] thought

“Don’t kill him” he said

“A precious student's request. And one from my favorite second year? Of course. Leave it to me!” Gojo said before lifting Yuji up.

[Name] still a little upset he was called away for nothing, raised his hand in front of his mouth so gojo couldn’t see what he was doing and whispered

“Fall over”

“Aak! [Name]-kunnn”

Fushiguro was shocked to see Gojo faceplant on the ground with Yuji on his shoulder. If the combination of Fushiguro’s wide eyed expression and the sight of Gojo in pain made [Name] giggle a little, he’d never admit it.

#x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #x reader #reader insert #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #m!reader #male!reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #that-bi-bitch-writes #a cursed reality

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violetren · 3 years

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My first theory for volume 9 while the second half of volume 8 is fresh in my mind!

Volume 9 is gonna be the therapy season, but in the most traumatic you'll need different therapy afterwards kind of way. Instead of paying a therapist they're all just be bargaining with the universe like "yo I've had this trauma for a while, and I'm feeling pretty done with it. Here you take it back and uhhh I'll take a new guilt complex. Maybe a fear of falling? IDK, fuck me up bro."

The foreshadow-y Alice in Wonderland-esque fairy tale Oscar told to himself/Oz while in captivity is my guide post here.

Aaaand this is gonna get long so! 10 ideas of shit that's gonna go down next volume beneath the readmore, each one about 1-2 paragraphs each.

In the fairy tale the girl runs away from her problems into a new land, but because she never learned from her problems they just followed after her. Yeah? So first--second? First discounting the volume therapy theme theory.

FIRST BIG THEORY: The girl from the fairy tale was real, and she used the Spear of Creation. And like Weiss and the crew, she was fucking smart about her wording. She offered up materials that'd last even after someone else inevitably used the staff. IDK what materials she woulda used. Maybe there's a story about a missing continent we just haven't heard of yet? Maybe the Brother of Light's pool, since Salem seens to have claimed the Brother of Darkness's one but no sign of BoL's these days. Maybe there is a reason the land beyond Menagerie is so uninhabitable beyond desert + grimm? idk. Point is, it's a thing that happened, and since Ambrosius can't destroy/directly kill she's still in her wonderland. For themes sake I'm gonna call her Alice from here on out.

So Alice made a pocket dimension to flee from her problems from.

SECOND BIG THEORY: Her problems were relic related. She needed to hide em, and hide herself from Salem. Tbh I'm not sure how into this one I am. Maybe she had other shit going and some version of Oz was like "hey you don't want to be here, I have some property that I don't want to be here, lets make this happen!" THE POINT IS, the little pocket realities the relics are in, are aalllllll places in her pocket reality. When the team said "hey Ambrosius just make the middle ground into one of these type places" that's what he did, cause that's how he do. What better way to make sure it works like those places than to be kinda connected to em?

THIRD BIG THEORY: Ambrosius was buds with Alice once upon a time, but knew staying in her pocket world ultimately drove her crazy. He knew his middle ground worked like the pocket dimensions because it touched em or something, so he gave a vague ass warning not to fall, because he knew where they'd fall to.

Back to the fairy tale. It's implied Alice was never able to leave/give up her wonderland because she never learned from her mistakes.

FOURTH BIG THEORY VERSION 1: RWBY + Jaune can't figure their way back to reality until they adress a major personal issue and break out of whatever cycle it's got them in. This one I feel is shaky because they all have such different issues and are in very different places with each of them, trying to do one big arc on em would be too much of a mess. Plus it doesn't account for saving any of the many civilians that may have survived the fall.

FOURTH BIG THEORY VERSION 2: nobody can leave until Alice either leaves, dies, OR is convinced to let them go. As we're following good kind people this means we watch the kids try to give someone else therapy that THEY need. RWBY+J work through their shit through variations & combinations of witnessing mirrors of their struggles in Alice/other wonderland inhabitants, and just having time and space to slow down and breathe whether they want it or not.

FIFTH BIG THEORY: Alice is the "antagonist" of the underworld because she is the obstacle to overcome.

What about Neo you may be asking. Well I want her to let go of the revenge schtick, or at least redirect it back onto Cinder thus calling a truce with Ruby. However it's more than likely she's gonna be on team keep Alice as an obstacle at least as long as it takes to kill Ruby, and so Neo will be the "real" Antagonist™ within wonderland.

SIXTH BIG THEORY: Neo because of her unwavering determination to enact revenge is gonna die this volume. She'll be the comparison against which RWBY+J will be measured. As they grow and get closer to leaving she'll become more wrapped up with whatever strange classic wonderland logic this pocket universe has. Potentially depending on how things go with helping Alice, Neo may just end up trading spots with her, and end up trapped while everyone else goes back. But dead or trapped, I have a sad feeling this could be our last volume with Neo. My only hope of her surviving at this point is that she like Emerald switches sides, and in doing so joins Winter as a Cinder foil. While Neo grows and lets go of revenge and thus survives, Cinder stays dedicated to her own desires for revenge and other self serving instincts ringing her own death toll for either the end of the volume, or maybe somewhere in vol.10.

SEVENTH BIG THEORY: Ruby is gonna be grieving and maybe even getting full on angry about being expected to fix everything just because she's the optimistic one. She shouldn't have to deal with this brand and advanced level of childhood stealing just because she wanted to do what was right and won(lost) a genetic lottery for magic powers type anger. Jaune is going to have SO MUCH GUILT to work through, mostly the survivors kind. The bees will be experiencing couples therapy, they've both been pretty solid about individual growth leading up to this, Underworld will be them learning what it means to them to be partners now that they are so different to who they were. Weiss is different. Weiss is at first gonna feel like she's there just because it was a way to really shove all the other Schnee's into their therapy arcs and gave RBY+J neutral presence to rely on. Weiss is gonna go in the most stable of the bunch. But then, slow boil style, she'll start to realise how fucked up basically her whole life has been, especially upon realising that her "good years" with her new family have been spent getting sucked into being the last line of defense against the apocalypse, but will be too busy helping the others, so at the end of the volume when everyone else is actually doing pretty good and refreshed for the fight against Salem she'll only just be beginning her breakdown.

EIGHTH BIG THEORY: All this therapy shit is gonna be mirrored back on Remnant by the others grieving the percieved loss of the hearts of the team. Both sides of these story are gonna deal with some heavy shit, but the Remnant side is gonna be the depressed side, at least as long as it takes for Oz to tell them maybe the other's aren't dead leading to desperate attempts to get the staff OR the make desperate attempts to get the relics back anyways and inadvertently find out from Ambrosius what is up. But anyways. Winter is gonna be dealing with survivors guilt and the loss of both her little sisters (friends are great but Penny was little sister zoned and it's a hill I am prepared to die on. good sisterly relationships are friendships too). Nora is gonna be doing her self discovery thing. Ren is gonna be building on his end of vol.8 developments. Oscar will continue his grappling with the merge stuff. Qrow and Willow might get forced into AA. Whitely is gonna learn his own definition of being a Schnee instead of what his dad taught him.

NINTH BIG THEORY (OR FOURTH VERSION 3): The other way they get out is QORN obtain and use the staff to bring them home, potentially by trading enemy lives for them.

BONUS CONSPIRACY THEORY: QORN if presented with needing to trade for their loved ones & lost civilians have a lightbulb moment and decide hey why not trap Salem in a pocket universe since that is a thing Ambrosius can make? Like, if this bitch hasn't budged on her not learning to appreaciate life and humanity or whatever (which I'n pretty sure is the other way to break her curse instead of stopping remnant from turning) then she's a prime candidate for shoving into a personal reality that you can only escape if you can face your problems long enough to break the cycle they have you in. It'd be really fucked up but I think it might actually be possible to run the place using her as her own material component. Like kill her over and over and redistribute the energy to make the pocket world, but because god given power + Ambrosius can't actually destroy she just reforms anyways. MIght take a few hundred thousand deaths but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Or use the BoD oasis/grimm pools to make a world that mirrored the one she chose to live in on Remnant really make it hard for her to break that cycle....

Anyways.

TENTH BIG THEORY: Working on the idea that the relics are actually hidden in secret protected pockets of the underworld RWBY+J are gonna have a secondary quest of trying to get the relics from this side, and either finding a new place to hide them ages away from their vault doors. If you wanna make it a FOURTH VERSION 4, they're specifically gonna seek out the sword of destruction (HOLY VORPAL BLADE ALLUSIONS BATMAN) either with the intent of cutting their way out underworld--ahem wonderland--or with the assumption that someone is inevitably gonna have to open the vault door, because that's just how things be these days and they'll be able to cross to Vacuo from there.

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stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland · 3 years

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Award shows - ɟ

Heeeelloo, my fellow CS 👋🏼

The idea for this post came to me because I recently saw again that some fans still can’t explain some things about the awards, therefore, I’m going to briefly explain the things I’ve read on which they’re still confused about so that maybe I’ll automatically answer some questions you guys have too.

First of all, celebrities, whether they’re actors, singers, models, heirs, fashion mavens, aristocrats, etc., are notified months before they’ve been invited. Usually, the reason why they were invited is written along with the invitation. The reasons obviously vary. They may have been invited because they were nominated for an award, or because, and they may accept or decline, they were asked to present a category or a performance, or to interview someone on the red-carpet or backstage, or to perform, etc., etc. They can also be added as I like to say ‘+1’. But be aware, there’s a difference between being invited as a ‘+1’ and as a guest.

‘Are they not the same thing?’ you’re probably wondering. No, they are not. Being invited as a guest is simply that. A celebrity who invites their partner, or their kid, or one of their parents, or a friend, as indeed their guest. The +1, on the other hand, is a term that I’m using because I don’t think there’s one to describe when a person who is also a celebrity is invited by another one. You know the seats they show us with pictures of celebrities and how some seats next to it lack these pictures? Those seats without pictures belong to the celebrity guests or their team members. If a celebrity invites another one, then next to their picture there will also be that of the celebrity they invited. Aka, the term I’m using in this case: the +1.

I’ll give you an example:

I’m a singer and my fake PR boyfriend has to perform that night, but I don’t, and neither have I been nominated for any awards and therefore not even invited. Also to keep up appearances of our relationship, I get invited as his +1. This means that you’re gonna see my picture next to his in the seats and the cameras will film me for literally two seconds counted during his performance. It also means that my fake boyfriend and I will be wearing matching outfits, that we’ll arrive on the red carpet together, that I’ll have to show unnecessary PDA out of the blue while one of our managers films us to make us more believable and real, and that I’ll have to pretend to be happy to be his arm candy. Do I accept or do I not accept the invitation?

Yeah, of course I do. It’s a great idea actually, both to show people my support as a cheerleader for him, and as publicity. Publicity not only for us as a couple, but also for myself. Our management, and yes, we have the same management, has arranged interviews for me too on the red carpet, so why shouldn’t I accept that? Plus, I want to go. Helloo? We’re talking about an important award show. Not to mention that my girlfriend performs too the same night and has also been nominated for several awards, so it’s just an extra incentive to want to go and be able to support her. Oohh, how foolish of me. I apologize for my forgetfulness. My name is Lauren Jauregui and I’m talking about the American Music Awards 2018.

See what I did there? 😏😏😏

These events are very exclusive and have an invitation list. If you’re a celebrity and you’re not on the list, then it’s very hard for you to be able to attend. But there’s a way, and no, I’m not talking about finding a way to sneak in. The only other way to get there is by taking the place of someone who had been invited and couldn’t attend.

Let’s say you’re a celebrity and you want to go there. Let’s say you want to go because you’ve been out of the spotlight for a long time and want to make a big comeback with a beautiful dress to show yourself off. The first thing you do is call your publicist and see if there are still seats available. Not all celebrities can attend those events despite being invited because they may have other commitments, or they’re out of town, or I don’t know, they’re on tour or something like that. So there’s the possibility that you can have their seat. If there aren’t any, then your publicist themselves may be looking for another way to get you in. Again, for an X reason, the celebrity who was supposed to present an award cannot go, and therefore your publicist manages to get you the invitation as one of the presenters. If none of these options are possible, then.. well, I hope you enjoy the show watched in the living room of your home.

You want another practical example? Okay, okay, babies, I’ll content you 😏

Latin Grammy Awards 2019. Still me, Lauren Jauregui, hi 🙋🏻 🙈 I wasn’t invited. I had no reason to actually be there, except for one…

I didn’t even publicize and say on my social media that I’d have been there. It was so unexpected and awesome for you nuggets, wasn’t it? Well, my girlfriend was invited but she unfortunately couldn’t go due to other commitments. You can imagine how sad she was not only to not being able to attend, but also to not being able to perform with Alejandro who is one of the people in the industry that she loves and admires the most, right? You can imagine her pout and her kicked puppy face for not being able to sing the song she wrote and dedicated to her little sister, can’t you? Well, I couldn’t bear to see her that way, so I told her: ‘Don’t worry, babe. I gotcha. I’ll go for you. I’ll go to represent you’. Also because her team didn’t need to be there, not even to collect the award which I later discovered she won the same evening. Awards, my beautiful chickens, are shipped months after the night they are received.

And so it was. I went with Brenda (my manager). I got dolled up. I did my interviews, even teasing my fans about my new project with Tainy. I sat in my baby’s seat in the front row. THE FRONT ROW. Front rows are reserved for the evening’s award winners. They NEVER put the winners in the back rows because it would take them too long to get to the stage when their name is called otherwise. And I was there, for her. And in addition to enjoying the show, I tried to hold back my happiness, especially since there were cameras everywhere, both during Alejandro’s performance as soon as my love appeared on the screens, and when they won the Record of the Year. I swear I had to get a hold of myself. I had to restrain myself and concentrate on clapping my hands like a normal person and not smiling too big.

*end of the sketch*

As you may have noticed so far, these are the only ways to attend award shows if you are a celebrity. But, just because you’re a celebrity, there’s no guarantee that you get invited. And you certainly cannot show up there with the hope that they’ll let you in without being invited, or nominated, or without a ticket just because you’re ‘someone’. Security kicks your ass out no matter who you are.

Every year, hundreds of celebrities don’t make it onto the invitation list. Keep in mind that the ‘exclusivity’ of these events is also due to the seats. Take as an example precisely the Microsoft Theater in Los Angeles where the AMAs 2018 took place. It has 7,100 seats. These seats are reserved for people in the show’s broadcast network, the telecast’s sponsors, the production team, the accountants, the legal team, the donors, the representatives, the press and media in general, etc., and THEN for the invited celebrities including singers and their teams, so also their publicists, agents, managers, [and not even all of them have a reserved seat; maybe only one of them has it and the rest are backstage or in the dressing room or not really there], etc., actors, and as with singers, their teams, the team of people who worked on the film with them, etc. See how many people and how few seats?

I’m still not 100% sure about this but, Emmy’s, Oscars, Golden Globes, Tony’s, and Grammy’s are the only award shows where the names of the winners aren’t revealed until the envelope is opened live on stage. All the remaining shows? Pfft, it��s all an organized thing. What you see on TV, the reactions ‘Oh my God, did I win? I can’t believe it!’, ‘I really wasn’t expecting that’, they’re all fake. Yes, the emotion for the win is true, but everything else? It’s all bullshit. Winners are notified long, but very long time before that. Indeed, many award shows only invite winners to attend. Haven’t you ever noticed how in some of them the other artists nominated in that same category aren’t even there? If they happened to be there, it’s because it’s very likely that they had won another category, or were there for other reasons, like presenting a performance or whatever.

Aaaand I’m done 😎😝 I think I’ve answered pretty much all the questions I’ve seen on the subject, even though I haven’t seen them here. If you yourselves have questions about this or anything else (even if you want advice on a personal level), as I’ve already said other times, feel free to ask. I’m at your disposal 😊

And thank you, Mari. It has been a while since I’ve done this, but I hope you know that I’m serious every time I thank you. Therefore, thank you once again for virtually letting me into your world and thank you for letting me continue to have little spaces in your blog 🤗🤗🤗

Thanks also to you babies for reading, liking, and re-blogging my occasional posts. But thanks mostly for her. Thanks to those who follow my friend’s blog with the right intentions. That is, with respect and without attacking her. Thanks to those who follow her because you actually like her and the content she posts, and thanks to those who use their brains before asking or submitting something to her. Thanks for real 🙏🏼

I hope you’re all well and that your holidays are continuing with peace and serenity. Stay safe, please. Stay patient. Keep the boat afloat. As usual, always with love, F ❤️

P.S. since I’m currently on vacation for a few more days before having to go back to work, and since I have a little bit more free time, I’m preparing something else for you based on some information that I was able to found out. Stay tuned for the next post 😉 The initials of the title are U and S, so you’ll know when you see it. Byee 😘

___

I was smiling with every word of this submit. Thanks for this clarification, F. It was awesome as usual

#submission #f anon #awards shows

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mostlykhaotic · 3 years

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*Wakes up in the middle of the night to write this*

V wanders into Goro’s place drunk asf (like to think that Goro told her which abandoned apartment he stayed in instead of keeping it a secret) at 3am. Goro’s is still up planning on how to get to Hanako and he hears something drop on his floor. Then he hear mumbling sounding like they’re calling out for him and the sound gets closer and closer so he stops what he’s doing and grabs his gun and peaks out the door.

And BOOM! There’s V, fucking stumbling around in the hallway with a bottle in her hand— drunkenly saying “Gooooroo! Ho...ws a goin cHOOoomBAAAH?

Goro runs towards her and grabs her shoulders asking what the hell’s she doing coming here making loud noises and how it’s not safe for her to be here and V just responds with “Staph...beina party..booger? I just came to say helllooooo and I missss yoooouuu.”

Goro doesn’t know what the fucks she’s saying since she was slurring all of her words. He removes one of his hands and pinches the bridge of his nose before sighing and puts one of V’s arms around him to help her walk to his room.

“Hmm you smell gooD as fUCK...is it...lavender? No no...something else...”

“Shh, Be quiet. You are speaking nonsense.”

V scoffed and hummed, “Ugh, I’m tired of sexy old men telling me what the fuck to doOOOOo.”

Goro eyes widen just a little when V said that, but he quickly shoved the comment to the side and opened the door to his abandoned room. And placed V on the couch. Before V could bring the bottle up to her mouth he grabbed it from her hand and placed in on the table, far enough for her to not be able to reach it while he’s standing beside her.

“You know Goro...” V slurred.

Goro shook his head, “You should rest, it is clear that you are not in the best condition.”

“I in on the bESTESt condition!” V laughs and stretches her legs out on the couch, “No pain, I feel like I’m floating, best fucking feeling in the world.”

And then she says something that Goro least expected.

“And...aaaand I’m here with my best choom!...couldn’t ask to be with no one else and no where else but here in....” V looks around the place for a second and looks back up at Goro with a grin on her face. “In...some place? What is this place again?”

Goro tried not to show the redness creeping up on his face, so he turns his head to the side and focuses his vision on the floor. “We are in an abandoned apartment.”

“Abandoned apartment?...oooohhhh yesss I remember now!” V chuckles and lays her head deeper into the pillow underneath her. “Imma just take a nap...”

Goro faces her again and was really about to tell her how she couldn’t stay—how he would take her home and how dangerous it is for both of them to be together...in a room that is.

But before he could even say anything V was completely knocked out. It’s been 10 seconds and she’s already lightly snoring. Goro looked at V’s sleeping figure, trying to ignore the weird feeling in his stomach, but couldn’t stop the small smile that appeared on his face.

Goro went back to his laptop and resume with what he left off with an hour ago. He couldn’t focus, however, considering his closest associate *coughcoughpartner in crime coughcough* is in the other part of the room on the couch snoring. Also, he couldn’t stop thinking about how she said that she wouldn’t want to be anywhere with anyone else besides him.

Another hour passed by of him just thinking rather than looking up information he needed for the plan he was trying to come up with. His man bun more messy than usual, and yawning was happening every 10 minutes so he decided to call it a night and head to bed. He got up from his chair and stretched. He looked over in V’a direction and of course, she’s still sound asleep—but in a horrible position. Goro sighed as he looked over to the bed and back to her.

——

Time was 2:27 pm. V woke up to a relic malfunction warning plastered in front of her optics. Headaches were bad enough because of the relic, but damn did it hurt a lot worse when when she’s hungover. She grabbed her forehead and groaned as she rolled over to the end of the...bed?

“Where the fuck-“

She couldn’t finish her sentence as it felt like her stomach turned and fluid filing her mouth as she took held it in and searched for something to throw up in. Good thing there was a bucket right next to her side of the bed.

After throwing up most of what she had the day before, she laid back in bed and groaned. One arm happened to hit a piece of paper that laid on the other pillow. Confused, she opened the letter and read it:

“Please, V, use this bucket to as you say, “barf”in” once you are awake. I would hate to have to find another room to occupy because you failed to follow simple instructions.”

“Noo no no damnit I-“

“Solved the puzzle yet?” Johnny teased, sitting on the edge of the bed with us cigar in hand.

“You’ve got to be kidding me...why..why didn’t you-“

“Don’t you try and blame this on me” Johnny interrupted and released the remaining cigar smoke through his nose, “you told me to let you be free for once, no pain, and I fucking let you, even if you were coming to this copo cunts place, even though I really can’t stand the gonk.”

V didn’t respond as a sharp pain shot through her head. She tired to sit up again, but Johnny glitches to her side and grabbed her shoulder. “You might as well just lay here, not only do you have to worry about a full on hangover right now, you gotta deal with the relic malfunction. Unless you want the gonk to find you laying in the hallway half dead.”

“You’re telling me to stay in ‘Saburo-Fucking-Arasaka’s bodyguards place? You know that right?” She curiously asked, imitating Johnny voice when describing Takemura.

Johnny grunted and shook his head, “Yeah, as much as I hate to say it, right here is where you need to be. But the moment when you no longer feel as shitty as you are now. We’re leaving. Hopefully your lap dog isn’t back by then.”

—-

#goro takemura #goro takemura x v #takemura x v #cyberpunk2077 #idk I may make a part 2 #or just a full story idk

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sorrelchestnut · 3 years

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EVERYBODY’S PICKIN’ UP ON THAT FELINE BEAT, PART 37

holy shit I finished a scene. We’re really close to the end now, y’all. That being said: this definitely ends on a cliffhanger. Fair warning.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Part 13. Part 14. Part 15. Part 16. Part 17. Part 18. Part 19. Part 20. Part 21. Part 22. Part 23. Part 24. Part 25. Part 26. Part 27. Part 28. Part 29. Part 30. Part 31. Part 32. Part 33. Part 34. Part 35. Part 36.

Title: everybody’s picking up on that feline beat Author: Sorrel Fandom: Fallout 4 Rating: Mature Warnings: None Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor Series: Part 3 of everybody wants to be a cat

Coffee helps; fresh air and sunshine helps more. For someone who spends a significant majority of her life inside, underground, nocturnal, and/or just generally skulking around in the shadows, Whisper can be surprisingly solar-powered at times. By the time they're over the river she's in almost obnoxiously high spirits, singing "Anything Goes" in a squeaky falsetto that makes him think longingly of the roll of duct tape in his pack.

"The world has gone mad today, and good's bad today, and black's white today, and day's night today-"

"Whisper, I swear to God-"

"And that gent today you gave a cent today once had sev-er-al chateaus!"

"Alright, Cole Porter, that's enough." She grins wider and opens her mouth, and he hastily slaps a hand over it before she can start the next verse. "No."

Her lips tickle against his palm as she grumbles, "You're no fun."

"What, because I like living? You're going to bring down every raider in the greater Boston area, the way you're caterwaul- ow! Fuck!"

She tucks her thumbs in the straps of her pack and gives him a cheerful, empty-headed smile, showing off the pearly white teeth she just sunk into the base of his thumb. "Talk shit, get hit."

"Jesus, you're aggressive." He studies his hand but doesn't find any sign of bleeding, just a neat row of stark white tooth marks rapidly flushing back pink. "Whatever happened to licking my hand to gross me out?"

"Sometimes I can really tell you were an only child," she informs him, shaking her head faux-mournfully. "You gotta go big or go home, that's my motto."

"Good thing we're going home, isn't it?" When she squints at him, he smiles sunnily and holds his injured hand a couple inches above her head. "I mean, 'big' isn't exactly your strong suit, so..."

She launches herself at him with a war cry.

Bickering aside, they straighten up when they come into sight of Diamond City, falling into character as a pair of road-weary mercenaries coming off an all-night hike and desperate for a shower and some sleep. (Which, to be fair, isn't that far off from the truth, all things considered.) They're both in costume already, not that that took long. All Whisper had to do was slick back her hair and throw on a pair of sunglasses and hey presto: Olivia Bailey, ruins-rover extraordinaire. Next to her all Deacon has to do is look suitably grizzled and road-weary, so he pretty much just tossed the least-disgusting raider's jacket on over his travel clothes and smeared some dust artistically through his stubble and called it a goddamn day.

It certainly works well enough on the second-shift gate guard, a pockmarked woman with nicotine stains on her fingers. She waves them through with a disinterested nod, already going back to her book before they even clear the gate. Deacon squashes down the contrary impulse to make some kind of scene and just nods back, professional and cool, as he wraps an arm around Whisper's shoulder. She gives him a little sideways look that says I know what you're doing but doesn't bother to pull away until they're in the tunnel.

Deacon looks around and then back to her, pointedly. Whisper huffs a laugh.

"What now?"

"Nothing," he says, and waggles his eyebrows. "It's just… here we are again. Where it all started. Back to the site of our fateful first meeting."

Her eyes narrow. "Weren't you the one who said-"

"Mm, yeah, but I've had time to think about it, and I think you made a compelling point. First contact is definitely the first one that counts."

"You just don't want to 'fess up on just how long you were following me around."

"Why, partner, I'm hurt that you would think of such a thing," he says, and moves swiftly on before she can call him on the obvious evasion. "You know, you keep bringing me back here, I'm going to start thinking you've got a secret romantic streak." She gives him a look. "Very secret."

"That's me, all hearts and flowers," says quite the most ruthlessly practical woman Deacon's ever met. "Besides, if I was going to start up with romantical remembrances at this late date, that wouldn't be the one I'd pick. I was so sleep-deprived I'm lucky I remembered my own name."

"Couldn't tell to look at you," Deacon says, in massive understatement. She was all easy swagger and magazine-cover grin, on her way to bigger and better things. She sure as shit didn't look like she was running on the ragged edge of her endurance - but then, he knows better than most just how well she can lie with a smile.

She glances over at him as they break out of the tunnel, her gaze shrewd over the rim of her shades. "You remember it pretty well, huh?"

Nope, nuh-uh, not going there. "Your hair was longer," Deacon says, tweaking the end of one of her curls in a transparent bid for distraction. "I remember that for sure."

"Well, yeah," she says, ducking neatly around a kid that seems really intent on wherever she's running. "You told me to cut it."

"I did?" He definitely doesn't remember that. "When?"

"When we were prepping for the Covenant op. You said blonde, I said I had to grab some bleach, and you gave me that 'oh honey' look you do when people are being particularly stupid and told me to just cut it off, you had a spare wig lying around someplace."

That does sound like him. "And you just did it?" he says, because Whisper is a lot of things, but 'obedient' sure as shit isn't one of them.

"You were brandishing a knife when you said it," she admits. "It seemed easier to give in than argue."

Yeah, that definitely sounds like him. Especially then: that must've been, what, their first week together? Back then everything was one long haze of exhaustion, staggering from one crisis to the next with barely enough time to take a shit. Hauling her into the Covenant op was a desperation play, pure and simple: he needed backup, and anyone had to be better than Glory. He hadn't known, then, what she could do with nothing more than a smile and a little room to work.

Though he figured it out pretty damn quick.

"I'd say it worked out," he says, and tweaks her dark hair again. "You do make a fetching blonde."

She gives him a look over the tops of her shades, knowing and a bit amused. "They do have more fun."

Aaaand now he's thinking about their first time, that silver dress pushed up around her thighs, blonde wig spilling across the mattress above her and blue eyes begging him in the dark. He clears his throat. "You want to go talk to Valentine?"

"In a bit," she says, and wraps her arm around his waist. He automatically puts his arm around her in turn, and she leans her head on his shoulder, a picture-perfect image of a lovesick spouse. "Need to make the rounds, hit up a few of the merchants first. It'd be weird if I didn't."

"God forbid we look weird," he agrees, and laughs at her elbow in his stomach.

~*~

She does break off eventually, slips away to discuss things with Valentine and leaves him with a key and strict instructions to take care of dinner. Deacon makes a quick loop of his own, touching base with the runners they placed last time and offloading some of their scav while he's at it. Myrna's girl has been promoted to working the afternoon shift solo, and is more than happy to take a few extra minutes dickering in order to fill him in on the local gossip. He rounds it off with a visit to the Dugout where the cocky one is still serving drinks - Deacon makes a note to collect the ten caps from Whisper later - and picks up some dinner to go on his way out. Never let it be said he can't follow orders when it suits him.

He's setting out the plates when Whisper follows him in just a few minutes later with a slammed door and a cheerful, "Hallo the house!" from the far end of her little warehouse.

"Kitchen!" he calls back, and a moment later she appears, weaving her way through the stacked boxes and dropping a noticeably emptier pack on the floor by the stove.

"Need a hand?"

The food's pretty much done, so he tilts his head to the table with a hopeful, "Something to drink?"

"I've got just the thing," and she grabs her pack again, fishing around inside until she comes up with a couple bottles of Bobrov's homebrew. "I tried to catch you at the Dugout but Vadim said you just left. Good enough?"

"We-ell, everyone knows a dry white pairs best with seafood, but for day-old mirelurk I suppose it will just have to do."

"You're trying to ruin my appetite but it's not working," she informs him, nose in the air. "I'm so hungry I'd eat a mirelurk raw."

He laughs and nudges in behind her as she turns to grab a bottle opener. "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that. You know it's only the best for my girl."

"Flatterer," she says, nothing in her voice now but laughter. "You talk any sweeter, I'm gonna be forced to check those lips for honey."

"Aw, babe. You say the - ha ha - sweetest things." He buries his nose in the back of her neck and inhales. "I get the cigarettes, but why do you smell like one of Tom's experiments? Hot metal and burnt wiring," he clarifies, when she gives him a truly weird look.

"Oh, I stopped by Piper's after I talked to Nick," she says, all offhand as if she's not talking about the biggest gossip in the Commonwealth.

Deacon unpeels himself from her back and takes her by the shoulders. "Whisper," he says, seriously. "Do we need to have a conversation about operational security? Because I feel like you may have been out that day."

"Oh, so you want her to come by and harangue me in person? Because that is one hundred percent what she'd do if she heard I was in town and didn't go see her first."

Okay, so maybe she has a point. The thought of Piper fucking Wright showing up at his door - well, Whisper's door, whatever - demanding to know his intentions toward her friend… Yeah, no. That's gonna be a haaaard pass.

Whisper grins at him, the devil in her eyes. He knows that look. "Whisper-"

"Ohhhh, I see what this is about."

"Fear," he assures her, trying to head whatever this is off at the pass, "this is a very healthy and reasonable level of fear," but she's on her way to a punchline and won't be deterred.

"You're a fan!" she declares, over his groan of protest. "Aww, sweetheart, why didn't you say something earlier? I could totally arrange an introduction for you."

"Ahhh, no thanks," Deacon manages, through the bolt of terror that thought inspires. "Little-known fact, spies are in fact allergic to reporters? Like, clinically. The hives are brutal."

She takes pity on him and gives way with a laugh, her eyes crinkling up at the corners. "Don't worry, babe, I'll protect you."

"You're the best."

"And don't you forget it." She pops open one of the bottles one-handed, handing it off to him with a cheery flourish. "Besides, you don't wanna bitch too much about my girl Piper. Her caps bought you this booze."

"I take it back, she's my new favorite person. After your radiant self, of course." He takes a swig and passes it back, enjoying the flush of boozy heat down through his chest as he turns back to the stove. After a moment's consideration, he adds a couple extra tatos to the pan. If they're drinking Bobrov's then he definitely wants to lay down a hearty base. "Something interesting afoot?"

"Mhm?"

"Your payout from Wright. Anything I should know about?"

She wobbles her flat hand side-to-side, a wordless eh. "Not really. Just a side project I've been working on."

Interesting. It's not as if they tell each other everything they get up to - he certainly has any number of moving parts at any given moment she's not read in on, and this business with Hancock gave him a good idea about how much he doesn't know about her adventures - but the fun stuff, yeah, that's usually share and share alike. Then again, maybe it's a leftover from her little enforced vacation back in August. He's mostly kept his nose out of whatever she was up to those weeks in hopes she'll do him the same courtesy, so there's a gap in his intel.

"Very mysterious," he teases, nudging a little. "C'mon, not even a hint for your faithful partner?"

She refuses to be nudged, only smiles faintly and hunches one shoulder into a lopsided shrug. "You can read it in the paper tomorrow like everyone else."

"Way harsh."

"That's me, cruel and unusual." She passes him back a plate with an absent kiss to his scruffy cheek. "C'mon, quit fondling that pot holder and get me some supper. I'm starving."

~*~

It's a good night, maybe the best he's had in a while. Deacon sort of figured she'd be distracted, mind on her mission tomorrow, but instead it's the opposite: for the first time in what seems like weeks, he has her full and undivided attention, and he basks in it like winter sunshine. They trade stories and quips, mostly things they've told each other a dozen times over but still fresh, still funny, still so much fun to watch her trying out a new spin, a new angle. She's so fucking good at that, always has been. Yet another thing Deacon never needed to teach her, but damn does he never get tired of watching her reinvent herself on the fly.

Deacon, for his part, finds himself mugging shamelessly for her attention, chasing her approval as fervently as any junkie he's ever pretended to be. And unlike a junkie Deacon gets what he's craving in spades, because she's as generous with her smiles as she is with her stories, lounging back in her chair with her glass in her hand, thighs sprawled wide and her voice gone syrup-slow with that insinuating smirk that only ever spurs him on.

Later, he doesn't entirely remember how they end up in bed. The booze turns everything smeary and soft-focus, like light coming in through a stained-glass window, and his memory preserves only a series of snapshots: pulling Whisper into his lap, her startled yelp of laughter muffled with his mouth. Making out on the landing, one foot braced a step down to put him closer to her height, his fingers busy on her shirt buttons and hers on his belt buckle. Tumbling into bed in a snarl of limbs, laughingly disentangling them until Whisper tugs him up over her in the dark. Burying his face in the sweat-slicked curve of her neck as he works his cock inside of her, her blunt nails scoring lines down the length of his back and her heels digging into the backs of his thighs to urge him on. The flicker of the candlelight playing across her lush mouth and her dark, shadowed eyes, her damp hair clinging to her forehead as she tosses her head back against the pillows. The low breathy rasp of her voice, "Deacon," murmured against his ear, "Deacon, Deacon, please-"

And then when he wakes up, he's alone.

The radio downstairs is playing “The Wanderer,” and Deacon lies there for a moment, listening to the clatter of the rain against the windows, experiencing an overwhelming surge of deja vu.

Then he hauls himself out of bed, picks up his boots, and goes in search of his wayward accomplice.

Unlike last time, there's no pint-sized partner clattering around in the kitchen, cooking breakfast and dancing around like temptation on two legs. The room is cool and dim, only the faint mid-morning sunshine straggling in through an upper window to light the way, and the only sign of habitation is the soft strains of the radio. Deacon does a quick check in the warehouse section just in case - have the boxes been breeding back there? - but the only sign of life in here is him. Most damningly of all, Whisper's pack is gone from the hook beside the door, leaving his looking lopsided next to the empty space where its partner used to be.

Do not project onto an inanimate object, Deacon my lad, he tells himself, and checks the counter next to the radio, where he previously saw a pad and a pencil half-buried under a precarious stack of ammo boxes. Sure enough, there's a note there, torn loose from the pad and folded into thirds with John scrawled across the front in unfamiliar handwriting that must belong to Liv.

She's just keeping cover, not stupid enough to write anything else out here in the open where anyone could walk in and see it, but Deacon still stares at it for a long moment, that single syllable knocking around somewhere at the bottom of his ribs. Then he shakes his head at himself, reaches out, and unfolds the note.

hey handsome, you looked so peaceful i couldn't bring myself to wake you. at least one of us should get to sleep in, and nick had me up with the sun. (you know what he's like when he's on a case!) shouldn't take long though, just a quick run down to goodneighbor and fingers crossed we'll be back by supper. take care of my best guy while i'm gone. xoxo, liv

The radio changes to “One More Tomorrow,” and Deacon glares at it as he folds up the note. Reading between the breezy, heavily fictionalized lines, it's clear enough she decided to handle this Kellogg business solo. Which is… fair enough, he supposes, but something about it doesn't sit square. Did she think he would have told her no, if she asked him to stay put? He thought he made it pretty clear the whole thing was hers to handle or not as she saw fit. Or maybe she just thought it'd be too awkward, having him up in her business like that? Maybe after their last op, she's about had her fill of personal. He couldn't blame her if that's the case, but he hopes she knows the last thing he'd ever want to do is make things harder for her.

Well, there's not much he can do about it either way, not with her at least a few hours ahead of him, judging by the sun, and definitely not with her clear instruction to sit tight. Waiting isn't much his favorite part and he didn't really plan to be hanging out in Diamond City all day, but Deacon's an adaptable fellow; he'll find a way to keep himself occupied.

The market is bustling at this hour of the morning, and Deacon lets the crowd carry him along, thinking vaguely about picking up some noodles for breakfast and then maybe having a wander around. It's not great for his cover to spend so much time out and about on his own, but with the right sidelong look most people will probably assume she's sleeping off a wild night, which would be great for his ego, at least. Besides, there's really no substitute for market gossip when it comes to keeping a pulse on the goings-on in the Commonwealth, which is what he plans to tell Dez if she gives him shit for the wasted day. Not that she will, because if Deacon has his way she'll never hear about any of this, but he likes having a contingency plan in place. Makes him feel all nice and comfy.

It's when he's looping around the counter in search of an open stool that he catches the familiar sound of Piper Junior hawking her wares at full volume. Which is funny, 'cause by his calculation they're not due for another issue for at least a week. Normally Piper's pretty regular with the print, except-

Deacon gets a sinking sensation in his chest.

-except when she has something too juicy to wait and damn it, Whisper, what the hell are you up to?

Normally the last place he wants to be is anywhere near someone named Wright, but since his partner has been up to shenanigans without bothering to inform him first, he figures that in this case 'better safe than sorry' means getting out ahead of whatever nonsense Whisper's been cooking up rather than running the other way. He makes sure to pull his cap low over his eyes, hitches his pack higher on his shoulders, and sidles over towards the Public Occurrences like he just doesn't have anything better to do.

"Extra, extra, read all about it! Minutemen General has the tell-all of the century!"

Oh, it's Minutemen business. Geez, why didn't she just say so? If she's running some propaganda job for Garvey, the last thing he'd want to do is get in her way. It was obvious they needed something after the trip to the Slog the other week, and throwing Piper at the problem is probably the most efficient way to get the word out. Half the damn Commonwealth reads her paper at some point or another, even if it's just so they can tell themselves how wrong she is.

Still, Whisper did tell him he'd find out today, so she probably expects him to read up on whatever it is. He snatches a paper off the top of the stack and flips it over, scanning for the headline.

Woman out of Time: Savior of the Minutemen Tells All About Life Before the Bomb!

"-not the current General," Little Wright's saying, when Deacon manages to stop staring at the paper and drag his attention back to the real world. "The first one, the one that retook the Cast- hey!"

Deacon finds the paper snatched right from his hands, a pint-sized version of a familiar glare beaming up at him. "You gotta pay before you read," Little Wright informs him. "We're not running a charity here!"

"Uh, right," says Deacon, who still feels like he's hearing everything underwater, slow-motion and echoing strangely. "What's the deal with this General, then?"

"Didn'tcha see the headline? She's from before the War! Vault froze her in cryo, right here in the Commonwealth!"

Vault 111. Oh, fuck. Ohhhh fuck.

"So you gonna buy or just stand there and stare?" Little Wright brandished the paper at him. "Hot off the presses! Only ten caps, and you can be the first to know!"

#fallout 4 #deacon #female sole survivor #deacon/female sole survivor #fic #everybody wants to be a cat

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robotslenderman · 3 years

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Eternal Hearts Liveblog, pt 1

Special thanks to @missn11, who is probably mortified their name is associated with this travesty of a post, for letting me get my filthy little hands on this piece of embarrassing VTM history.

Okay guys, time to do the thing that’s gonna get me cancelled by fifteen-year-olds in the year 2032:

I’m gonna liveblog Eternal Hearts.

I once promised myself I would never make a rape joke, but today I break that vow because even the rape scenes are (sometimes) just that fucking ridiculous that I had to make fun of them.

This book is just.

Guys.

It’s GLORIOUS.

In the first twenty-four pages alone we have:

A guy is confronted by a locked door, so he whips his dick out. Everyone else acts like this is completely normal.

A guy meeting Final Death because a politician sat on his face. RIP in pieces Noah.

A mortal setting herself on fire, waving her arms around and running at a bunch of vampires yelling “DIE, YOU BASTARDS!”

A guy using his dick as a key ring. (Yeah, it’s the locked door guy.)

Lucita given the Hallowe’en treatment, in that she’s covered with sewage -- but sexy!

Daddy kink on top of the Washington monument.

Only some of the above makes sense in context. Some of it is as baffling in context as it is out of context.

This is the funniest shit I’ve ever read. Nobody told me about this when I went in holy shit.

Time to open this sucker up!

Liveblog under the cut!

DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING. IF YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT ETERNAL HEARTS IS, DO NOT READ THIS LIVEBLOG, HOLY SHIT.

You’re in for a ride, and it’s the edgiest, unsexiest ride ever.

First thing I notice: Eternal Hearts is, in fact, written by a woman. Which may mean that if she wanted to scare the shit out of her female readers, she'd know exactly how to do it.

gulp.

(^ I wrote that back when I thought I was gonna traumatise myself by reading this. OH BOY)

Next bit, the rape book is opened by the following foreword:

What follows is an essay that basically boils down to "no! :D but we wrote it anyway!”

Partway through that is this quote:

We’ll come back to that quote later. Several times, I predict.

Aaaand we open straight into a gang rape scene! Oh joy. And there’s church spires, to make it extra edgy.

Oh but then they give her the Kiss so she enjoys it! Yay!

Oh.

She's a shovelhead.

They never mentioned THIS part of the Sabbat recruitment process.

and now she's underground and buried and being raped again? Somehow. Like somebody’s got their entire goddamn fist in there. While under six feet of dirt. I know someone’s got their entire damn fist in there because the Shovelhead’s thinking about how somebody got their entire goddamn fist in there.

(Yeah this is the bit I had to make jokes about because it was that fucking ridiculous. I started this out trying to be respectful. I failed. Miserably. I just can’t fucking do it this is too -- too -- Eternal Hearts-y.)

Like the author just turned to the other people in the credits page and pitched this idea: “guys. Hear me out. What do you think is scarier than being raped or being buried alive?”

“idk what?”

“being raped after being buried alive!”

“That’s a GREAT idea!”

(”Lucy didn’t even break the rules as much as I was willing to let her” Remember that quote? Thank god for that.)

Jean - for that is our poor Shovelhead's name, RIP - seems only mildly concerned about the rape. and the fact it’s still happening.

Like yeah, serious talk, putting my respectful hat on: to be fair, everyone responds to trauma differently. You know how I respond to trauma? I make jokes about it. Like I’m the kind of person to say “what are you gonna do, STAB ME?” for the lols when a guy is pointing a knife at me.

Okay, respectful hat back off, back to edgy humour.

Anyway she’s being fisted by somebody while also six feet underground, somehow, and daydreaming about the guy she’s stalking and about how she’s in love with him, hmm, maybe he had something to do with it? She’s not entirely sure.

(ETA: So an anonymous Discord friend was reading my liveblog and said this:

and I laughed so hard my dog actually pawed at me because she was worried.

Yeah, I’m going to hell, but at least I know I’m taking you guys with me.)

Anyway she starts digging her way out, and I guess she’s still being fisted while she’s digging her way out???? IDK they didn’t say it stopped??? Like that’s gotta make digging your way out difficult.

And then cut to Lucita!

Walking past a protest outside a sex shop. There’s a bunch of Christian protestors outside because they’re bored or something. We get straight back into rapiness with a Dominate:

Damn Lucita, if jizzing your own brains isn't the hottest image you can give a guy, I don't know how what is.

Lucita decides to snack instead of raping him, but does sexually assault him by taking his dick from his pants and leaving it in his hand when he’s unconscious.

Lucita walks into a meeting at a brothel. There are “slaves”. I’m not sure if they’re sex slaves or if they’re actually ghouls, but then again, this is Eternal Hearts so probably both.

She expects Pieterzoon to be there, but he's not. When the others start talking like he's missing, she is completely unconcerned and immediately starts talking as if she knows he's missing.

They move on. Pieterzoon has paid Lucita to assassinate Marcus Vitel. Good fucking luck with that one. Everyone at the meeting is trying to stop her from doing it. Lucita’s like “tough shit he’s already paid me bitch is gonna die”.

Also the Brujah woman present is apparently this scene’s titillation or something because the author loves to remind us about how tight her clothes are and how she's "seductively cuddling" people.

no fucking kidding

I like how the VTM universe goes out of its way to avoid using the terms “son” and “daughter” to avoid the Unfortunate Implications when people inevitably start fucking their Sires

and the author’s like "nah fuck that let’s daddy kink it up.”

Oh and he does it ON TOP OF THE WASHINGTON MONUMENT!! Like gang rape in a churchyard wasn’t edgy enough I guess.

the author can't go a paragraph without reminding us that sex exists and everyone is utterly sex crazed. The bit I blacked out above? That was Lucita daydreaming about hiring a prostitute. Like that’s not erotica, erotica is arousing, this is just voyeurism.

Lucita apparently hasn't yet noticed she's in a porno.

Somebody makes a joke about the Christian protestors gang raping the prostitutes outside. It’s a Ventrue. Of course it is.

Apparently the slave (I guess the word “ghoul” isn’t sexy enough) in the above screenshot is a fucking senator. Pun not intended. She soothes the cranky Brujah by suggesting they get somebody called Torres deported? I have no idea what that has to do with Lucita assassinating Marcus Vitel, but there's almost certainly going to be fucking involved.

(ETA 23/1/21 -- I regret to inform you all that there wasn’t “fucking” involved so much as gang rape. Never mind.)

Lucita and the Brujah guy almost start stabbing each other (so much for that soothing), but somebody has just set the brothel on fire so they have to GTFO.

The mortal senator can't quite fit inside the escape tunnel because her skirt is huge and keeping it on is apparently more important than not dying of smoke inhalation. But it’s okay, she manages it.

The skirt will be important later, unfortunately.

They come to a locked door in the passage. Oh no, whatever will they do?

Will they take a key out of their pocket and unlock it?

Nah, that’s too fucking sensible.

The Brujah that tried to punch Lucita whips out his dick.

Yes.

He actually fucking does that.

Weird flex, but okay.

(ETA 21/1/21 -- I just realised... what if it’s somebody ELSE’S penis he just whipped out? Like the thing was actually just chilling out and he pulls it out the way somebody else pulls out a cucumber. It’s not attached to his body, it’s just THERE?)

Everyone is completely unfazed by this. Both by the fact he whipped his dick out, and the fact he uses it as a fucking key ring.

Like. Is this a habit of his????? APPARENTLY IT IS.

(ETA: Anonymous Discord friend says:

SDFADLFJASDLFJASDF)

They end up in a sewer.

Garinson keeps a key to a sewer on his dick key ring.

(”Lucy didn’t even break the rules as much as I was willing to let her” yeah I just remembered another place more fitting for a sewer key)

THEN!!!

PLOT TWIST!!

The senator suddenly threatens everyone with a lighter!!

After the kindred are done laughing their ass off, she covers herself in whiskey, sets herself on fire and charges them.

I'm sorry but the way it's worded - pin wheeling, cringing - just makes this the funniest shit. It gets even funnier when you remember they’re knee-deep in water. Ever tried to run in water? It’s. not exactly easy. So presumably she’s tripping and stumbling the entire time and somehow still on fire as she does so.

A kindred tries to escape by clawing his way up the wall. He falls. The senator assassinates him by flinging her skirt over his head and sitting on his face. That part of her is also on fire. The skirt and her thighs are on fire.

And I guess they’re obviously not thigh-deep in water any more ‘cause the poor fuck doesn’t survive this.

what a way to fucking go: death by fire pussy.

Everyone panics, except Lucita, who's like "fuck this", cuts off her head, puts out the corpse, then, uh. uses it as a shield against the remaining flames. as you do.

(Between that and the above screenshot, there’s graphic descriptions of what, exactly, the fire is doing to the senator, and how said senator doesn’t give a flying fuck that fire is kinda hurty because she hates vampires that fucking much.)

Lucita meets a Nosferatu who offers to guide her from the sewers. On the next page, we have an illustration of Lucita, in sewage, looking up at the Nosferatu.

You couldn’t possibly make that picture sexy, could you?

Welp the artist went “Challenge accepted!”

So I wanted to show you guys the picture but I didn’t want to get too banned from Tumblr for an Eternal Hearts liveblog, so I went to my friends for help. One of them, @intimidatethevoid, answered the call to arms:

Well.

This is awkward.

And so she bestowed upon me this glorious, but also cursed, image:

Yeah.

Her shirt’s somehow come off. And she isn’t wearing any knickers. Hence the Filthy Frank sticker.

And that’s gonna wrap up part 1 of my Eternal Hearts liveblog!

For more, like this post in secret shame so that none of your followers have to see it. To cancel me, send angry anon messages and death threats to my inbox.

#Dusty liveblogs #Eternal Hearts #VTM #rape CW #Eternal Hearts CW #DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT oh my god I can't even #I'm going to regret posting this I just know it but I HAD to #eternal hearts liveblog

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novantinuum · 4 years

Text

Intake (SUF one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences (TW: brief discussion of mental illness related topics like suicide ideation and intrusive thoughts.)

Words: 2800

Summary: Steven fills out an important form.

This is set multiple months pre The Future, and is a small glimpse into Steven’s journey to find a therapist.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

His leg bounces with a restless fervor as he slumps in the waiting room chair, clutching the clipboard and pencil the receptionist gave him with a white knuckled grip. Gaze hardened, he takes a good long look at the other patients spread across the room, a few of them appearing equally as spent and fidgety as him, and hunches over the intake form so his answers will be conclusively obscured from their view.

He grimaces. Ugh. Why would a place like this lay out their chairs so close, anyways? Why even give people the option of being nosey? He may be stuck seeing this therapist Connie’s mom recommended because he’s all messed up in the head, but it’s not like he wants the whole planet to know about it. Goodness knows all of Beach City and Little Homeworld already does thanks to his little ‘incident’ a month back. That’s bad enough.

His chest almost feeling hollow as he sighs, he scrawls in his name, his birthday, his cell number, address, and an emergency contact (Dad, who left for the car to give him privacy after signing a few forms he can’t fill out as a minor) on the lines indicated. He leaves out his many middle names for once, all of them leaving a bitter taste in his mouth at this present moment. Briefly, he wonders if this will be a problem, as these past few weeks Dr. Maheswaran assisted his dad in finally acquiring legal documentation and health insurance for him, and per those records he’s officially ‘Steven Quartz Universe’ in the eyes of the law.

Eventually he shrugs, figuring the likelihood of there being another sixteen-year-old ‘Steven Universe’ here today to confuse him with is nearing zero.

Okay, what’s next?

He briefly skims over the next few passages— a bunch of legalese about the terms of counselor-patient confidentiality and when they might have to breach that for safety reasons— and signs where indicated so they know he looked over it.

Someone sitting two chairs away coughs. He can’t help but flinch at the sudden noise, and folds himself tighter in his own seat as he flips over the first page of the form and continues to read.

In a few words, explain why you’ve chosen to reach out to us today. How can we help you?

Steven frowns, fingers twitching around the shaft of the pencil as he contemplates how to respond. For whatever reason, the question “explain why you’re here” feels very blunt and antagonistic to him in a way he can’t quite ascertain. Like... in a “give the wrong answer, get booted right out the door” sorta way. He lifts his head, peering at all the humans spread across the room, each and every one with their own story, the central character of their own worlds. Some are texting on their phones as they wait for the receptionist to call their names, others are filling out forms as well. What brought these people here, he wonders? Surely there’s plenty of people having a worse time than him right now. Surely there’s people with real problems, people who are literally struggling just to stay alive from day-to-day. He’s not like that, right? Besides that one little wobble a month back, he’s been handling his problems on his own fairly okay. Hasn’t he? So what makes him selfish enough to think that he’s worth anyone’s time?

In his pocket his phone vibrates, knocking him back into reality. He yanks it out and switches it on to look at the new text splashed across the lock screen:

Dad: Hey Schtu-ball, just wanna let you know that I’m proud of you and love you very much. You’ve got this!

He stares at these words for a good minute, the kind sentiment— despite reading as a little hopelessly over-encouraging— filling the hollow space in his chest partway. Even if his dad’s been a bit overbearing in his affections this past month, it’s clear he means well.

So. Why am I here today, he thinks, reading the question over again. He folds his fingers up into a stiff fist, pulling his thumb across his knuckles. After licking his chapped lips and shoving his phone back in his pocket, he scribbles a hasty reply.

I feel really angry and empty and tense and just want to be better.

The teen pauses, allowing those words to echo over and over in his mind, to truly sink in. It’s such a succinct and to-the-point admission that he suddenly wonders why he ever doubted he was less deserving of aid than anyone else in this waiting room.

His countenance a little lighter now and his shoulders growing less stiff, he moves on to the next section.

To aid our counselors in providing you the best possible care, please rate the following statements on a scale from zero to four, zero meaning “not at all like me,” and four meaning “extremely like me.”

Steven’s eyes dart across the length of the massive table below these instructions, his previous anxiety rushing back into his brittle bones as if it’d never left. Each row is host to a short sentence and five blank boxes, numbered zero to four. Read it and rate yourself, right? Should be simple enough. But as his glance flits over these statements and he understands the sort of personal, probing questions they’re asking through them, he begins to mistrust his previous burst of optimism. Dread floods his system, making his cheeks flush bright pink. Heart pounding at the mere thought of people staring, he drops his head lower, successfully hiding most of his face behind the clipboard until he can coax that betraying glow into fading away.

In the end, this goes to prove that it doesn’t matter if everyone says therapy will be ‘helpful’ for him; reflecting on all this junk is still gonna suck.

Quietly, he takes a steadying breath and forces himself to read on, to crack open the hornet’s nest that is the depths of his crap brain.

1. I am shy around others.

He considers this for a moment. Shy. Historically, this has never been a word people would use to describe him. For years he reveled in the thrill of meeting new people, new Gems. His childhood eagerness to engage in fellowship with those around is half the reason Era 3 even exists. And he’s fine around people he knows. Like, on a rare good day he has no problem playing board games or watching cheesy soap operas with his friends. But to be fair... as of late, his eagerness to meet anyone new feels like it’s all but vanished. Is that being shy? Or is that just him failing to care for anyone beyond his inner circle?

With a small shrug he checks the box for one, and moves on.

2. I don’t enjoy being around people as much as I used to.

Hmm. Probably a three. People are unintentionally exhausting these days. He used to be energized by social interaction, and now it just leaves him sucked dry. Most days he’d rather stick to his room.

3. I feel isolated and alone.

The weight of the diamond embedded in his belly— something he normally barely notices— grows ever more apparent as he marks off a four.

4. My heart often races for no good reason.

Uh, yeah. What happened just a minute ago is a pretty good tell. Four.

5. I have spells of terror or panic.

Another four.

6. I am anxious that I might have a panic attack while in public.

Four once more. He holds his pencil tighter, squirming in his seat as he tries (and fails) not to think about the pale scars spread across his back, hidden in his hairline, and on the underside of his arms, indentations that once marked the base of the crystalline spines that jut out from between his scales.

7. I think about food more than I’d like to.

Steven pauses at this one. For once, he’s not sure he can say this statement applies to him. Truth be told, he only started caring about what he put in his mouth earlier this year, when he cut meat and fish out of his diet. And that’s not... a bad thing? It’s not bad to want to consider the impact your food choices have on the environment? He definitely didn’t choose to do so for self-denying reasons, and that’s probably what they’re asking about. He checks zero, and moves on.

8. I feel out of control when I eat.

He almost checks another zero, but then he remembers that day after the proposal... and the week after his incident. And he decides that even if he doesn’t consciously obsess over the food he eats, there’s still a few occasions where once he starts snacking he finds it difficult to stop. A one it is, then.

9. I have sleep difficulties.

This statement nearly makes him laugh. Does he have sleep difficulties. Hah. He doesn’t think he’s gotten a truly restful night of sleep since he sacrificed himself to Homeworld at fourteen.

A solid four. No question.

10. My thoughts are racing.

Four.

11. I feel uncomfortable around people I don’t know.

Hmm. Two.

12. I drink alcohol frequently.

The only alcohol he’s ever had is a tiny sip of his dad’s with permission at Garnet’s wedding reception, and it tasted terrible. He has no interest in drinking again. Zero.

13. When I drink alcohol I can’t remember what happened.

Zero.

14. I drink more than I should.

Zero again.

15. I have done something I have regretted because of drinking.

Another zero. It almost makes him feel better, just knowing there’s a decent number of lines on this paper that aren’t a carbon copy of his lived experience.

16. I feel sad all the time.

Aaaand back to “the story of his life.” Briefly, he wonders if ‘feeling sad’ is the same thing as feeling nothing at all. But then again, does the difference really matter? He checks the box for three.

17. I am concerned that other people don’t like me.

Three. Although honestly, he’s even more concerned that people continue to like him after everything he’s done.

18. I feel worthless.

Steven nibbles at the inside of his cheek as he reads this statement, memories automatically flashing through the pathetic events of the last few weeks, through all the days he barely crawled out from under his covers, all the days he didn’t even manage to brush his teeth or run his fingers through his greasy, knotted hair, all those awful days he couldn’t so much as play one of his video games without growing tired of it in minutes and taking a restless nap for the rest of the afternoon instead.

Four.

19. I feel helpless.

Two. Everyday affairs are a drag, but at the very least he knows he can fight his way out of danger in a pinch. He wouldn’t call that helpless.

20. I have thoughts of ending my life.

He freezes. Goes back, reads this line again. Reads it a third time to make sure he’s not horrendously misconstruing the prompt he’s been given.

(Tries not to think too deeply about the graphic images that flood his imagination some nights. It’s just stray thoughts, though. He’s fine.)

One, he marks, although his muscles can’t help but twitch as he shifts his wrist, as if deep down he knows he’s underplaying his answer.

21. I feel tense.

Steven gives a small snort under his breath. Yeah, he outright admitted as much earlier in this form. Four.

22. I get angry easily.

His grip tightens.

Four.

23. I have difficulty controlling my temper.

He swallows hard, his mouth feeling abnormally dry. He’s not sure he likes how blunt and probing this questionnaire is becoming.

Four...

24. I sometimes feel like breaking or smashing things.

His knuckles go white around his pencil, and he only barely resists the temptation to snap it in half as he feels a rush of hard light flow the distance from his gem through the veins of his arm. Geeze, it’s not like he means to break things! It’s just that all of his stupid powers are linked with his emotions, and whenever he gets even marginally upset now things start to splinter, crack in half, and inevitably end up broken. Just another sign he’s fated to ruin everything around him forever, and that his intent doesn’t matter. Why do they have to pry into this? He already feels terrible enough for thinking these things.

Three, he checks, his eyes damp, but mostly because he’s too scared what their response will be otherwise.

25. I am not able to concentrate as well as usual.

He takes a deep breath, coaxing his body to return to a baseline state. Eh. He’ll give this a two.

26. I feel self-conscious around others.

His glance skirts over the edge of the clipboard to monitor the four others currently spread out across the room. One’s rhythmically swinging their legs, another is still filling out a form like him, but sitting criss-cross on the chair, and the other two are quietly typing on their phones. Thankfully none of them are pressing an ounce of attention his way, (at least, not right now), but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like an exposed nerve. Three.

27. I am afraid I may lose control and act violently.

The raw memories hit like lightning before he can even think to prepare.

Flashes of Pink. Orange fragments, cold and slick in his palms. Thunder splits the skies overhead, each cacophonous sound manifesting in perfect synchronicity with his erratic heartbeat, with each tidal wave of thoughts gushing like a maelstrom through his head: SHATTERER, I’m a shatterer, I’m—

Feeling almost dizzy from the intensity of his heart’s pulse, he knows with full certainty that his cheeks are glowing bright pink again. All he can do is clench his fists, suck down whatever amount of fresh air his lungs will allow, and pray to the very stars themselves that it’ll fade away before it garners the attention of every last human in this place.

He checks the box for four, pencil marking so hard that slivers of graphite splinter off onto the page, and moves on before he can be cowardly enough to change his answer.

28. I have thoughts of hurting others.

His fingernails claw into the thin denim at his knee, limbs outright quivering as he stews in his seat, as he’s forced to reflect upon all the ugly, ugly thoughts that have flit across his awareness over the past weeks. Thoughts about one Gem specifically. He’s... always been angry, always harbored deep resentment... but ever since his most recent trip to visit Her, he hasn’t been able to shake this awful idea: a vision of him standing over the remnants of her gemstone, shattered, fragments spilled across the otherwise pristine floors of Homeworld. He... he didn’t do it when he had the chance. He wouldn’t do it, would he?

(Orange fragments, cold and slick...)

Would he??

And yet nevertheless, the thought tortures him with its frequency, makes him feel downright nauseous at every turn. He doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to feel this way at all.

Four.

29. I am unable to keep up with my schoolwork.

Stop. Sharp inhale. Staccato, shaky exhale. Repeat, deeper this time. Repeat.

(He can no longer see neon pink reflecting in the smooth metal clasp at the top of his clipboard.)

Okay. Schoolwork.

N/A, he writes in one of the boxes, arm still trembling from the last two questions despite his attempt at cool-down exercises. Not applicable. He hasn’t even been to school, and dreads the inevitability of this therapist asking about that mess.

30. It’s hard to stay motivated for my classes.

N/A.

31. I feel confident that I can succeed academically.

N/A, once more.

And like that, the questionnaire is over. Steven is quick to hide his answers behind the front page, and slides the pencil through the length of the metal clip. He glances around him, drinking in his surroundings with pinpoint precision. Despite his earlier concerns, no one is maliciously staring. No one’s whispering. He internally wrestled with a few challenging subjects and what do you know, it didn’t end in an embarrassingly public meltdown. He— he wipes a stray tear from his eye with the butt of his palm— he took a solid step forward today.

Coercing his body to move, he pulls himself out of the cushioned chair and crosses the room.

“I finished,” he says softly, proudly, as he hands the clipboard and pencil to the receptionist. She smiles and accepts his hard-fought offering.

For the first time in a while, the smile he instinctively flashes back almost feels genuine.

I want to be better, he thinks. I will be better.

____

Notes:

This fic is loosely based on my own experience of the intake process, and the questionnaire I had to fill out. No two intake experiences are the same though, of course. This is merely one possibility. I also take personal liberties on the way I depict Steven’s struggle with mental health, and acknowledge and respect that no two fans’ interpretation will be the same.

Additional notes: -Steven’s still a minor, so he can’t actually sign contracts. I figure Greg signed a handful of forms beforehand as his guardian, and then left to allow his son a bit of privacy with filling out the questionnaire stuff. Since he's a teen, they're still giving him the full confidentiality clauses to look over so he's wholly aware how that works, though.

-To expand on a brief comment made in the midst of this, I headcanon that Steven cut both meat and fish out of his diet, and thus actually slipped up on his vegetarian diet when he was training with Jasper. I interpret this as further showcasing how the poor kid— due to being mentally vulnerable at the time and thus liable to coercion/unwise decisions— began to take actions that went against much of his established morality. He ended up sacrificing his dietary choices during those days, just like he briefly sacrificed his pacifistic views to fight Jasper.

-I also headcanon that the therapist Steven is going in to see after this isn’t the one he eventually sticks with and mentions as “my new therapist” in The Future. It’s totally normal and okay to try a few different people to find someone who you click with, after all.

Thank you for reading!

#su #su future #steven universe #su fanfiction #my writing stuff #okay the official crosspost #here you go #i keep switching how i post fics here hhh #i LIKE having the ao3 link in the post itself #but when i do that the fic almost never shows up in tags so *shrugs*

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rwbyvein · 3 years

Text

Firen Lhain: Chapter 612: Tin Woodsman: Part III/III

"If you don't mind?," Ironwood asked, "I'd like to get down to business." He looked around the room, a more serious atmosphere appearing almost insantly. "Is the relic safe?" he asked, and Ruby reached under her cloak to pull out the lamp. Ironwood just stared at it for a few moments. "Well, that answers a few questions. The Spring Maiden?" he asked, and almost everyone looked at Raven. Ironwood, Winter, and Taiyang followed their gazes. "I?.." Ironwood, "really don't know what to say to that."

"Yang and I had a bit of a chat." Raven stated, "She pointed out that Salem was after the Relics. The only way for me to get out of the fighting was to give them the Relic, and disappear."

"Then?.." Ironwood asked her, "if you don't mind if I ask?"

"Why I'm here?" Raven asked, "Oh, that's simple, I used my portal to get to Tai. He was really the only choice I had."

"And then what happened?" Yang asked her.

"He might be a fool, but I still love him." Raven stated. "I thought I was strong enough. I thought I was over it. I thought I was independent."

"Aaaand?" Nora asked.

"What?" Raven asked, "I was wrong. The only home I had left was Tai, and he wanted to make sure his daughters were safe."

"What about our house?" Yang asked.

Raven then looked to Tai, "I'm sorry, Tai, but that little house on Patch?, not really good enough to get me to stay still."

"Then?.." Taiyang asked, "why did you?"

"Wasn't it obvious enough?" Raven asked, and stepped towards him. She grabbed his hand and pulled it behind her back before kissing him on his lips.

"Seriously?" Yang asked, "we're right here." This caused Qrow to scoff.

"Do you guys have ANY idea what it's been like for at last month?" Ironwood put his foot heavily down, and everyone looked at him again.

"Again, I'm sorry." Ironwood stated, and Raven pulled away from Tai, turning to him.

"No, we have a lot of important, world-ending things to talk about. If I have to die, it might as well be here."

"On the airship?" Nora asked, and Raven just glared at her. Ren put his hand on Nora's shoulder and she covered her mouth.

"How are things in Atlas?" Qrow asked.

"I honestly don't know." Ironwood stated.

"The giant army, and you don't know anything?" Qrow asked.

"To be fair," Weiss stated, "we only really knew anything about Beacon because Ruby is unfathomable."

"I'm really big?" Ruby asked.

"What?" a surprised Weiss replied.

"Also fathoms." Ren stated, and Weiss turned to give Ruby as questioning look.

"You are - to put it mildly, difficult to understand." Weiss said to Ruby.

"That's pretty much why we're all here." Jaune said, "Ruby seems to know where she's needed."

"And where we're needed is Atlas!" Ruby exclaimed.

"Academy?" Ironwood asked.

"I guess?" Ruby said and shrugged.

"That targets would likely be the reliquary and the CCT." Ren stated, "like it was with the other Academies."

"But that doesn't mean that's where we need to be." Jaune said, and everyone looked at him.

"If you could elaborate?" Ironwood stated.

"It's kind of hard to hide an army of Grimm in Atlas." Jaune stated. "I'm assuming. It's like, one giant city, right?"

"It is quite densely populated." Weiss affirmed.

"And?" Jaune asked, looking at Blake, "that Atlas doesn't have the the White Fang?"

"The White Fang are all on Solitas." Blake stated, "Not in the city of Atlas. Not to mention that..."

"They've been defanged." Yang said, and snickered. Blake looked at her, rolled her eyes, and then developed a smile.

"So?," Jaune asked, "whatever happened is going to happen on Solitas."

Ironwood developed an extremely sour, pensive look.

"Do you disagree?" Ren asked.

"No." Ironwood stated, "That's the problem. If we're not looking at Atlas, but the continent, that's a LOT more space to cover. Atlas' army is vast, but..."

"It doesn't matter how big the army is," Qrow said to him, "does it?" Ironwood looked at him, the look becoming a bit softer, but a bit more confused.

"Then what do you want me to do?" Ironwood asked.

"Oh, I don't know?" Qrow asked, "open the borders?" Ironwood gave him a completely lost look. "Do you really think your borders are going to stop the Mother of Grimm?" Qrow asked, and Ironwood still looked lost at him, "All you are doing is blinding yourself to what they are doing. Do you know what Salem calls me?"

Ironwood looked around for a moment, "An Eye, right?" Ironwood said. Qrow gave him a knowing look as it dawned on Ironwood. "Use your giant Atlas military to TRACK people coming in, or something. Then at least they might be good for something."

"I know..." Ironwood said, and paused a moment for thought, "you don't like the military..."

"I think it's pointless." Qrow said. "All it does it make you THINK you are safe, but Mistral thought it was safe, and it was only a bunch of kids wandering away that stopped them."

"So?!" Ironwood shouted at him, "What do you want me to do?!" He then paused, and breathed in deep.

"For one," Qrow said, "stop trying so hard." Ironwood gave him a completely confused look, "You can't save the world, at least not by yourself. The only thing you can do is the best you can do. All you have to do is ask yourself, HOW can your giant, gaudy military help you save the world?"

Ironwood started to pace the width of the room. "I could use them to canvas the cities and villages. I could put our effort into protecting the major trade routes, it would give us the ability to inspect everything that's going on."

"There." Qrow said to him. "That's thinking like an Eye." Ironwood looked at him, and did a combination of shrugging his shoulders while pointing at Qrow with his right hand, stopping half way through each motion before adopting a neutral stance.

"That said," Qrow voiced, "when the attack comes, it's going to come big, and your shiny airships will probably have a lot to do."

Ironwood then spent a few more moments pacing. He then paused and looked at Winter, "We'll start attaching Specialists to special hunting units. The Specialists are the only ones I can really trust to think on their feet."

"Yes, sir." Winter said.

"You're just going to agree with him?" Jaune asked her.

"Have you met my sister?" Weiss asked.

Jaune looked at Weiss and shrugged, "That one scroll call." he said, and looked at Winter.

"That was you?!" Winter shouted, turning a combination of both light and dark blues. She immediately evened out her breathing to return her natural white hue.

"See?" Jaune said, as he pointed at Winter.

"Pardon?!" Winter aggressively asked him.

Jaune was still looking at Weiss, "I told you that you were beautiful." Both of the Schnee sisters turned light blue. Winter evened out her breath to get rid of it, while Weiss just kept hers.

"Sister?" Winter asked her, and Weiss just smiled back at her.

"My fiancé did just call me beautiful." Weiss said with glee, and Winter was uncertain of how to react to that. Thinking to her childhood, she had to go back twenty years to find something between her parents even vaguely related to what was happening.

Ironwood looked between the sisters. "This is the most I've seen her smile." he stated, then turned to Weiss, "It's good to have you back in Atlas. Thankfully, this time under better circumstances."

"We are trying to save the world, aren't we?" Nora asked.

"Yes." Ironwood simply stated. "This time, they won't have to be at home. Pardon this," Ironwood said, looking between the Schnee sisters, "but you two can do much more as Huntresses than you could as Dust executives. I'm proud to be working with you." He then looked at Weiss, then between the rest of RWBY and JNR, "You've done far more than could be expected of you, then could be expected of anyone." He then looked at Jaune, "And I want to thank you for explaining your reluctance to work with the Atlas military. I promise the Atlas military will respect your independance as Huntsmen. We'll establish communications protocols for you to coordinate with the Specialist units, if and when you discover anything."

"You just kind of assume we'll find something?" Nora asked

"Yes." Ironwood, simply and profoundly stated. He then paused before continuing. "I know you don't want to work directly with the military, but I still want to help you. We can find you an old building in either Atlas or Mantle for you to use. I also want to get you an airship."

Nora raised her hand, "But... none of us can fly?"

Ironwood developed a weak smile, "And a pilot. Military pilot." Jaune looked like he wanted to say something, "Former military pilot." James said with a weak smile. "But now for the most important element, what do we do with the Relic? My first thought is to put it at the centre of an army..."

"But?.." Qrow grumbled.

"But?," Ironwood continued, "that would reveal exactly what we're dealing what... and somehow... I don't think it would work. But, if the reliquaries don't work, and an army won't work, what will?"

"Maybe what Ozpin put his faith into?" Qrow asked.

Ironwood looked around the room. "But, they're... they've accomplished so much, but?.."

"Simple," Qrow stated, "she needs all four. So, you have the one in Atlas Academy, surrounded by your army, using ALL of Atlas as a fortress. The other one is protected by the ones who saved both Academies. And there's always the one that only Oz seems to be able to find."

Ironwood breathed in deeply as he looked around. He very visibly did not like the idea, but he didn't really have another choice. "On one simple condition, if you lose it, for any reason, you tell us immediately, and we'll send the army in to try and recover it."

"And how?," Qrow asked, "do you expect to do that without telling the entire army about the Relics? Once again, Ironwood breathed in deeply, but didn't seem to have an answer. "How about this, the adults stay in Atlas. If anything happens, we can swoop in to save them."

"Qrow and Taiyang are instructors in Vale." Ironwood stated. "It would be simple enough to pass them off as guest instructor in Atlas Academy, though... you would have to teach."

"Yeah-yeah." Qrow stated, "I know the rules, no drinking at school."

"And Raven?" Ironwood asked.

"She is my wife?" Taiyang stated.

Raven developed a wicked smile that shocked nearly everyone there, "I'm sure there are plenty of drug dealers, murderers, and mafia members I can... speak with."

"And Oscar?" Ironwood asked.

"He's not Oz yet." Qrow stated, "but compared to everyone else his age, he is exceptionally skillful."

"Which means?" Oscar nervously asked.

"That you would be receiving special instruction straight from the masters." Ironwood said to him, "Remember, no one is forcing you to do anything, but..." he continued as Oscar cut him off.

"I know I'm going to have to fight. I know I'm going to become Ozpin, or however that works. I'm ready to train."

"But," Ironwood said to him, "this is just training. No one is going to force you to do anything. And Ozpin..."

"He wants to be around you." Oscar asserted.

"Probably thinks you could use some advice." Qrow quipped.

"He's right." Ironwood soundly stated.

"I would like to make a simple additition." Aurora said, nervously stepping forward. "I have compiled a list of known associates we should be looking for, at least one, Arthur Watts, used to be a prominent member of Atlas society."

"Used to." Ironwood stated.

"Are you so sure about that?" Qrow asked him.

"If we can find any sign of him associating..." Winter voiced, and Ironwood's eyes lit up brilliantly, as if he finally had a shred of hope.

"Winter," Ironwood said to her, "that will be your primary responsibility."

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #pollinated knight

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captainillogical · 4 years

Text

Home Ch.4

The domesticity of living with an alien who hasn’t quite had the chance at a normal life.

Distant Lands sequel.

Spinel/Reader

collab with my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants

Today is another hot, bright day outside, and you have not had enough coffee to deal with it. Or any at all, actually.

Currently it's about an hour before your first lesson, and you're at Kiki's place - sitting on the toilet inside her bathroom in particular - trying to not panic.

"-and then! I told her if she wants to keep borrowing my jacket, the least she can do is NOT get mustard all over it! Can you believe her?!" Kiki huffs out next to your ear, dabbing more pigmented cover-up against your collarbone.

"Why the hell do you buy clothes that you know she'll keep stealing? You know she's not going to stop since you basically wear the same size." You reply, leaning into her brush. It tickles your skin, and you feel yourself almost sneezing.

"Because they're cuuuuuute, okay?" She whines, twisting her face in concentration as she smears makeup on a particular spot on your neck. "Wow she really did a number on you here.. are these teeth marks?"

"Pretend you didn't see them, just cover them up as best as you can," You plead, giving her The Face you know she can't resist. She rolls her eyes. "I just wanna look professional, you know?"

"They're gems, Y/N." She makes a point to jab you particularly hard on the side of your neck with her brush. "You seriously think they're going to care? Or notice?"

"Well, apparently a few humans signed up too, and I really would prefer to not get any more looks, er - more than the usual, anyway." You feel your phone vibrate in hand, and look down to see Steven giving you several thumbs up to your earlier text.

"Why are humans signing up?" She asks, pausing momentarily.

"Not sure? But I'm blaming Steven on that." You reply, remembering to shoot Garnet a message as well about having her attend just in case you make a fool out of yourself in front of a crowd.

"Maybe they saw you with Spinel, and thought, hey, maybe the rest of us could-"

A door slams against a wall, and you hear a resounding 'HEYYYYYYYY' from the hallway in a very familiar voice. Several pairs of footsteps are walking towards the bathroom the two of you are in.

Oh god, you need to go. You attempt to stand up from sitting on the toilet, and Kiki forces a hand on your shoulder with an "I'm not done!"

"Kiki!" Jenny pops her face into the bathroom doorway with an infectious smile. "What are you dooooooooo- whoa, Y/N?!"

If you could clap your hands and disappear, you would.

"Heyyyyy Jenny," You greet her as flatly as you can, and then Lars also pops his head into the doorway. Oh. Great. "Lars. What are you guys doing here?"

Lars gasps dramatically, pointing to your neck. "YOOOOOOOUUUUUU-"

Kiki silences him with her palm over his mouth. "Dude I already told you, why are you being so dramatic right now,"

"You TOLD him?!" You screech, feeling completely betrayed.

"Well, YEAH, clearly you were going to just internalize it and dance around the subject!" She places her hands on her hips, makeup brush still in her fist. "I'm just expediting the process!"

"Tell him what!?" Jenny pipes in, completely engrossed.

"That Y/N's dating Spinel!" Kiki huffs out, like this is obvious information, and Jenny gasps.

“I wasn’t going to dance around the subject!! I just haven’t had the chance to shoot him a text yet..” You mumble, trailing off sheepishly. Okay, so, you know you should’ve told Lars already! It’s just.. Ugh. Talking about your feelings is hard. The face Jenny’s making is making you wish you could flush yourself down the toilet.

“You dumbass, were you seeing how long you could hide this from me?! After all I did for you.” Lars crosses his arms over his chest, miffed. “It’s whatever, I knew that was going to happen sooner rather than later, anyway. I was expecting like, two days, tops - with how you had talked about her.”

“Am I that obvious?” You ask flatly.

“Uh, yeah.” Jenny gives you a look. “Girl, you avoided me for an entire year after I asked you out, and then acted like nothing ever happened. I probably would have recovered my ego a lot faster if I knew your type was Gems.”

“My type isn’t GEMS,” You sputter, utterly amazed at the audacity of the three of them.

“Yeah but your neck says otherwise,” Lars teases, and you groan, covering your face as the other two howl in laughter.

“Remind me why I’m friends with any of you?” You say, muffled behind your hands.

“Um, because you have no other options?” Kiki grins, and you put your hands down just to lightly kick her on the shins, and she chokes out a snort.

“So, what’s the occasion? Why are you dolling up Y/N?” Jenny peers over at you, taking in the new.. upgrades to your appearance.

“She’s got some lessons today, and wanted to look more professional,” Kiki rolls her eyes, like somehow you wanting to not talk to a class looking like you got half-mauled by a sea lion is ridiculous. “Speaking of, did you want me to cover the scar on your face?”

“Ehhh, leave it. I don’t really care about that.” You look at the time on your phone, knowing you need to leave soon. Spinel has texted you a few words of encouragement coupled with quite a pile of heart emojis, and you have to school your face into not smiling at it like some sort of cheese ball.

"I think you look cooler with it anyway," Jenny tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, her gold earrings shining in the light of the bathroom. "Makes you look like you won't take shit from anyone."

"What about my scar?" Lars asks. "Is my face scar not cool??"

"Yours looks more like you fought a raccoon in a dumpster." Jenny grins, and you can't help the laugh that comes out of your mouth as Lars sputters at her response.

The four of you chat for a little while longer while you finish up with Kiki, Jenny asking way too many questions about your personal life - but this time, you don't feel uneasy at all about sharing some of the details with her.

You're standing in the middle of Little Homeworld near the town center, coffee in hand - surveying the area as people and gems hustle around you. You probably should've also grabbed something to eat, but it's kind of too late now. Steven's bringing you lunch after this anyway.

It's twenty minutes until your first lesson, and you're starting to see a few gems show up early. They had to relocate where you'd be having the class - originally they had given you a decent spot under some coverage, but because the attendance got so high they moved you to the literal town center for the space. There's a lot of gems (and some humans) around, and most of them are either working on small construction or going about doing their other jobs. You watch three Amethysts a few yards away struggle to lift a large sheet of glass for what looks like a new cafe. Huh. The gems are really trying for inclusivity here.

You turn around to look at your chalkboard that Garnet placed here for you, and write out a giant welcome sign on it, along with the class title and your name. You could've probably written it a little more eloquently.. eh. The gems aren't going to care. There's some sudden yelling coming from around you, so you turn to look - one of the Amethysts nearly dropped her side of the glass because someone bumped her — aaaand it's Spinel, with Bismuth next to her, who are reading over some blueprints.

You stand there, hoping Spinel hasn't seen you. She doesn't know your class got moved, but you're positive she was supposed to be working with not Bismuth today. Great. You don't need a reason to be any more anxious about this than you are, even if seeing her pink hair kind of sets you also at ease.

More people and gems walk by loudly, and you start to wonder if you're going to need a megaphone. You grab your stack of papers, and go over your notes on your bench while you bide your time until it's noon.

About five minutes pass, and someone sits next to you on your bench.

"Heyyyy." A familiar voice speaks, and you look up - you're greeted with the smiling face of that rose quartz you've bumped into twice. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Oh, it's you," You reply, a bit off-guard. You weren't expecting anyone to sit and chat with you, nonetheless the very specific gem you keep randomly meeting.

"Saw you sitting here, and wanted to say hello before I went to this class I signed up for," She holds out her hand, her bright smile not making you feel as uneasy as it did the previous day. "I realized I never introduced myself. You can call me Rosie, if you want. The other quartzes have taken a liking to it."

"Rosie, huh.. that's actually a nice name. Mine's Y/N." You return her smile, and shake her hand.. which is strangely soft.

"Are you here for the lesson too? I'm pretty excited about this one, this has to be the most interesting class they've got on the current schedule right now." She leans in, putting an arm up on the bench back for support. More gems have started to gather in the centre now.

"I am, but I'm actually the one teaching it.." You reply almost sheepishly, and her eyes widen in response.

"You're teaching it?!" She lights up immediately. "I thought it was just gonna be one of the other gems! No wonder so many came here from Homeworld for this!"

"... you're pulling my leg, right? How would any of them have heard of this? We only posted this class within the last week, and just on the singular board." You feel the bubbles of dread in your stomach. Or maybe that's just the excessive caffeine.

"I heard a couple talking about fliers over there, I'm not sure, but they were so excited." She takes a second to look around, and lowers her voice briefly. "I heard that one of the Diamonds wanted to attend, even."

WHAT. Your brain cannot deal with this information.

"B-but they're not, right?" You hear your voice waver, and you push your creeping anxiety down. "I don't think I can deal with a Diamond here, today."

She laughs, and it's not mockingly. It's almost sweet, actually.

"That would be something, wouldn't it?" She winks at you, a light smile on her face. "But no. I don't see their gaudy ships, so I think you can rest easy."

“Phewwwww,” You dramatically wipe your hands down your face, and let out a groan. “I was so worried there for a sec. What would the Diamonds care about interacting with humans, anyway? So absurd.”

“I have no idea,” She giggles at your antics. “Your guess would be about as good as mine.”

You see Spinel staring in your general direction, and your heart rate speeds up when you see her eyes connect with yours. Her face lights up like you’re the best thing she’s ever seen in her life, and you can’t stop the goofy smile that breaks out on your face. You wave at her, and she nearly drops the box she’s holding to enthusiastically wave back.

“Who’s that?” Rosie asks, face turned to peer at Spinel way over there.

“My girlfriend.” Is what comes out of your mouth automatically, and she whips her head back to stare at you with a strange face.

“You’re dating a gem?!” She hisses out, clearly shocked as her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline.

“Yes - jeez, why does everyone always react this way - and it’s not THAT weird, before you ask,” You say, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment.

“And a Spinel, of all gems? No offense.” She looks back over to stare at said pink-haired gem, before turning back to you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You give her a look, taking immediate offense to her statement. She brings her hands up in defense.

“I didn’t mean it like - It’s just, Spinels seemed to always be designed for friendship; not romance. I’ve physically witnessed three dating catastrophes between them and other gems, in my time.”

“Well, my Spinel is perfectly fine.” You say, and it comes out a little more aggressively than you had wanted, and she recoils a bit. “But thanks for your concern.”

“I'm sorry, it wasn’t my intention to offend you.” She at least has the decency to look apologetic. “How long have you two been dating?”

“We just started this week..” You answer.

“New relationship, huh.” She looks like she’s studying your face, and you’re not sure how you feel about it. “I do wish you two the best,”- There’s a sudden low murmur in the group of gems nearby you, and you look over to see what they’re mumbling about.

Fucking hell.

Jasper, yeah THAT Jasper, is standing over in the now pretty fucking large crowd of gems that’s gathered to attend your class, and you don’t know whether to laugh or scream.

“Whoa, she’s huge.” Rosie does a double-take at said gem, eyes widening hilariously.

“Yeah, a huge bitch. Jasper fucking hates humans, why the hell is she even here?” You groan, hoping that maybe she’ll just sit quietly and not make any remarks or heckle the other students.

"You know her?" She asks, amused by your response.

"Unfortunately, thanks to Steven."

"That kid is some kind of magnet for problems of all shapes and sizes." She laughs, shaking her head.

"You don't even know the half of it.." You give her a tired look, and she laughs even more. She asks you a few more questions about Steven and your life, and you answer them truthfully while attempting to distract your anxiety.

A hundred gems is your turnout. A bit over, actually, and a handful of humans too.

You maybe feel just a little in over your head with this, but, well.. it's too late now. You spot quite a few gems you've seen before in the crowd, as well as Onion of course, and your neighbor George. You even spot Buck sitting in the middle of a group of Lapis who look like they're discussing heavy gossip with him, and he's actually engaged. Interesting.

There are.. so many eyes peering at you. You've never talked to a crowd this big in your entire life, and public speaking has never been your strong suit. But these gems came here for a specific reason, and goddammit, the thought of Pearl or Sour Cream teaching this instead in your place just doesn't sit right with you at this point.

You greet the class once the volume dies down enough, and a wave of enthusiastic greetings come back at you. You see Garnet in the corner and she gives you a thumbs up, and honestly it makes you feel a lot better that she's here.

You start off with your orientation notes, and talk generally about the basics, mainly about the similarities between gems and humans as common ground. Literally only about three minutes into this class, and a quartz that is most likely from Homeworld raises her hand. You call on her.

"Is it true that humans eat their younglings?" She shouts out from the middle of the crowd, her vibrant purple hair half covering one of her eyes.

"Er," You stumble on your words, a little perturbed that that's the first question you get. "No, humans don't eat their young at all, you're probably confusing us with some other species."

She nods, like that sounds like the right answer, and then about twenty more hands shoot up.

"Let's save the questions until I at least get through this pile of papers, guys," You insist, and a noise of disapproval comes from near the front left side of the group. You turn your head, and.. it's fucking Jasper. Does she know that you'd throw hands with her if it were not for the fact that you're trying to be professional?

You completely ignore her, and continue on with what you were previously talking about.

A good 20-25 minutes pass, and you're now in a good place to stop so people can ask their questions. A few humans you don't recognize ask you about how you know so much, and you answer truthfully. You briefly talk about living with Steven and the Crystal Gems, and how easy it was to co-exist.

A LOT more hands pop up after that.

"This might sound strange, but how do you ask a human to be friends?" The Lapis you call on asks.

"You can just ask. Humans do it too. Sometimes people prefer to form them naturally though, but if you guys are already talking then it's a good sign."

"But what about if they scream at you?" Another gem blurts out, and you curb the bark of laughter that wants to escape from your mouth.

"Generally speaking, what do you do if a gem screams at you? Same principle. Guys, humans and gems are way more similar than you think, and communication is key in this." At least your voice is steady, and you don't really feel as anxious as you were before, since the class seems to actually be going smoother than you had thought.

The giant hand of the Morganite in the middle of the crowd waves frantically, and you call on her with amusement. It's kind of cute how excited and interested a lot of the gems are. "You seem to have a ton of gem friends, and I have no human friends! Could you be my first?" She yells at you.

"Oh, I don't see why not," You answer truthfully, feeling a bit sheepish and taken aback by her request. Once those words leave your lips though, half the crowd starts shouting - ME! ME TOO! COULD YOU BE MY FRIEND?? - and you can't help feeling a little flustered as you try to calm the class down, taking a few more regular questions to keep it going.

You don't even realize through the noise of the center of little Homeworld when you spot a camera crew at the edge of your crowd, setting something up. It's the fucking local news station, what the FUUUUUUUUCK. You try not to outwardly display your internal panic and it's proving to be one of the hardest things you've ever done.

"When did you get that scar?" Jasper stares at you from her seat, pointing to your face.

You freeze momentarily at the lack of tact in that question, and that's when you spot Spinel off to the side of the class, at the edge of the crowd of students. Your brain stutters.

"U-um. It was during an accident with my girlfriend." You blurt out quickly, and instantly regret those words. You should've fucking lied or something because you can see Rosie narrowing her eyes at you in the front.

"Is that why you look like that now?" Jasper grunts out, crossing her arms. If you could throttle her you would in a heartbeat.

"Yes." You state firmly, meeting her gaze. She looks a little surprised at your answers. "Anyway, moving on." You hear a few murmurs in the crowd after that, opting to ignore how anxious it makes you.

You answer a few more questions, and try to not look at Spinel who keeps raising her hand with the rest of the gems. Shouldn't she be working?! Oh god, of course the camera crew is actually filming something - you can barely offhandedly hear the reporter spouting off something about little Homeworld into the camera as it pans around him.

Your heartbeats are hammering in your chest, but you move onto more questions and try to keep your cool. Eventually you can't ignore how obnoxiously your girlfriend is raising and waving her hand trying to get your attention - several gems around her keep pointing at her so you'll give her a chance.

Oh, little do they know.

You sigh, resigning to letting her ask a question.

"Spinel." You call on her with a pointer finger as neutrally as possible, which is way harder than you had thought.

"Finally!" She cries with a fist pump, and a few people around her chuckle. "I just wanted ‘ta ask, is it possible for a gem and a human to fuse?”

You feel yourself freeze on the spot, taken completely by surprise. There’s a couple murmurs among the crowd.

Why the fuck is she asking that.

“U-um, no, unfortunately there’s no way to do that because of the differences in our biological make-up,” You say, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment - there are so many eyes staring at you.

“Well that sucks!” A random gem in the crowd shouts, and quite a few gems erupt in laughter.

You try your best to wind them down and finish with their many, many questions.

It isn’t long until the class is over - you had only taken up hour sessions, and you’re so thankful for it. The class went over well, and many gems walk up to you to chat and shake your hand, and the local news station seems to be interviewing a couple gems on what went on - you guess there’s some sort or segment they’re doing on Little Homeworld, and today just happens to be the day they chose to do that.

You avoid the camera crew as much as possible as you tidy up your belongings, and Spinel walks up to you as you gather your papers in your arms.

“That went pretty good!” She beams at you, looking proud. You squash your feelings of affection that overwhelm you - you wish you could kiss her if you were not in public.

“Yeah, and if you ever ask me a question like that in my classes again, I’m actually going to ban you. I’ll even put up a photo of your face so the other’s know to barr you from the class.” You scoff at her, and she completely disregards it, getting a little closer to you to give you a look that you recognise as her challenging you.

“That wouldn’t work on me anyway,” She grins, hand raising up to tuck the stray hair that just flew into your face - she looks to the side of you briefly as you hear footsteps and speaking -

FUCKKK, THE REPORTER IS WALKING RIGHT OVER HERE.

Your eyes dart back to Spinel, body posed to leave. “U-Um, I gotta-”

“Ma’am! Maaaaa’am!” You hear the reporter shout at you.

Cool cool, keep it cool. Just breathe. You want to vomit.

"You two look pretty close." He remarks as he jogs up to you, slightly out of breath. The cameraman follows him, and if you could run you would. But you'd rather not be turned into a local meme, so your feet are firmly planted in the spot. "I wanted to catch you before you left, Miss Teacher!" He smiles brightly at you - that you know is just for the camera.

"I was just finishing up." You smile politely.

"I wanted to ask you a few questions regarding the class you just held if that's alright with you?" He asks, adjusting the small mic on his collar. He also holds up the microphone that the logo of the local news station is emblazoned on.

"Sure." You feel your nerves go haywire. This is way, waaaay too much pressure for you, you feel like you're going to faint, the fucking cameraman just winked at you.

"What's your name, firstly."

"Y/N." You answer him with just your first name, and he gives you a look.

"Last name? You gotta have a last name." He insists.

You tell him your last name, and his eyebrows furrow before they shoot up into his hairline.

"Last name, last name?" He implores, holding the microphone closer to your face. "Like, -last name- the lawyer working on that Gem case in Empire city, -last name-!?"

Oh. You forgot about your father.

"Y-yes," You stutter out in a panic, and instantly regret waking up this morning.

God fucking dammit.

#spinel #spinel x reader #spinel steven universe #steven universe #su #home #my fic

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