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notsoguiltykpop · 4 years

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The Tenth Floor pt22

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader & Taehyung x Reader

Min Yoongi had gone through 34 secretaries in the past 24 months, and each one of them left in tears. This fact alone should have warned you against taking the job, but the pay was too good to pass up. Surely you could put up with a billionaires temper-tantrums, right?

3 years after giving up on the nonsense that happened on the 10th Floor, and after a particularly unpleasant falling out with your former boss, you find yourselves back in each others lives. Can things have changed enough for you and Yoongi to have a fresh start? Or was the damage done too great?

Genre: Crack, Fluff, humor, some angst? Mostly crack tbh.

Word Count: Idk man, this is a short update.

Warnings: Strong language, smut talked about/implied in previous updates, some dark themes occasionally.

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21,

---

His words hung, uselessly, in the air. He shifted from foot to foot, waiting for you to say something. Anything. To make this less awkward.

“Funny, after all this time, me bringing you the wrong coffee.”

Why were those the words that came out of his mouth? He had no idea. All he knew was they spilled out in a desperate attempt to lighten the uncomfortable silence that had fallen after you took a sip, made a face, and spat the coffee back into the cup without saying a word.

“I never brought you the wrong coffee,” You replied dryly. “You just never knew what you wanted until you drank it.”

Yoongi internally cringed. That wasn’t entirely true. He usually knew what he wanted, some part of him just liked to be difficult.

He thought better than to say that.

“So this is a nice office,” He tried instead. “Nice... Desk?”

“Thanks I built it myself,” You deadpanned.

“Really?”

“No.” You sat back in your chair, eyeing him warily. “Where’s Jungkook today?”

Right to the point. “He wasn’t feeling good,” Yoongi said smoothly.

You looked at your phone, read something, and raised an eyebrow. “No.”

“He took a personal day.”

“No.” You said again. “He didn’t. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, just felt like visiting our greatest investor in person today. Speaking of, is Changkyun available...?” Even now, after these past several years of only seeing you occasionally, after basically becoming strangers again, Yoongi felt strange lying to you. It didn’t feel good. Like he was reverting to ways he thought he had left behind in therapy.

“No, something’s up, and Jungkook’s being weirdly secretive about it, too,” You leaned forward on your desk, looking him directly in the eyes. “Is there something we should know? Changkyun’s noticed it, too, over the last several months.”

“Speaking of him,” Yoongi tried to deflect. “Where did you say he is?”

“He’s out,” You shrugged. “You can talk to me about further investment.”

Yoongi grimaced. “So that’s the thing,” He coughed uncomfortably. “Things aren’t--there isn’t. Uh. It isn’t looking like there’s going to be much left to invest in pretty soon. We’re drowning.” It felt wrong to actually say it out loud, even though the numbers had been saying it for so long.

Your eyebrows knitted together. “I thought you had this whole plan of recovery--”

Yoongi shook his head. “It’s not working fast enough. Changkyun already knows the other investors pulled out. I’m here in a last ditch effort to save some jobs.” He shifted again, then muttered. “I’m selling the company.”

“You’re what.”

Yoongi couldn’t tell if you actually couldn’t hear him, or if you were surprised. He didn’t think there was any chance you didn’t see it coming--As Changkyun’s assistant, he was sure you got an inside look at how terribly things were going.

“I’m selling the company,” He said again, louder this time. “I had my chance. I ran it into the ground. My employees shouldn’t suffer for that, though. If someone like Changkyun was to buy it, at least some of them could keep their jobs...”

“You didn’t run it into the ground,” You interrupted. “And you know that. It was failing long before you were put in charge, and even then you had to cater to investors who didn’t understand what was going on. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Yoongi felt his cheeks heat up, and he coughed as an excuse to look away. “Thanks. For that. But,” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling restless suddenly. “Credit where credit is due, I didn’t fix things fast enough.”

“That isn’t how that saying works,” You muttered, grabbing a sticky note and jotting down a note to yourself. “I’ll talk to Changkyun.”

“Thanks,” He said, taking a couple steps back towards the door.

“And Yoongi?” You added, giving him a small smile.

“Yeah,” He wasn’t sure what it was about the way you said it that made him nervous.

“It was good to see you.”

---

Ever the playboy, Jungkook was flirting with a waitress when you walked into the restaurant.

“I’m guessing the coffee was your doing?” You scoffed as you sat down in front of him.

“Who, me?” Jungkook smiled innocently. “I would never tamper with a beverage I picked up for my best friend. Even if my annoying boss changed my plans and said he was going to your office instead of me and took said beverage. I definitely wouldn’t put five packets of salt in it when he wasn’t looking.”

“That was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever--Why do you do things like this? What goes on in your head?”

His smile only grew. “Did you spit it out?”

“Who wouldn’t?” You raised an eyebrow.

Jungkook did a little triumphant fist pump. “How many times did he spit out your coffee when you worked for him?” He asked excitedly, not waiting for an answer. “And now he knows how it feels on the other side of that.”

You shook your head. “So petty,” You chastised.

“So funny,” Jungkook corrected without missing a beat.

“I would have appreciated a heads up,” You sighed, opening the menu only to have Jungkook reach over and slide it away from you.

“I knew you might be conveniently out of the office if I told you he would be dropping by,” He shrugged. “Also I kind of already ordered for you.”

“God damnit,” You complained, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. “You always do that. I’m capable of ordering my own lunch, butthead.”

“You’re always late!” He practically whined back. “And then I get awkward, and I feel bad for taking up a whole table and then some random mutters about me getting stood up--which, sorry, but do I look like I get stood up?--so I panic order!” He pouted. “Also. I have great taste. You always like what I get.”

You narrowed your eyes, but let it slide for now. “I didn’t mean a heads up about Yoongi coming in. I meant about his company tanking.”

“Oh,” Jungkook’s pout dropped. “He told you about that, huh? I guess it really is that bad...” He tilted his head to the side. “If it goes under, I might have to be a regular doctor...Y/n. I might have to see patients again.” He shivered dramatically, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” You assured him dryly. “I’m more concerned about Yoongi--He’s given it his all. What’s he going to do once it’s gone?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Actually live a little, I hope.”

A/N *cough* ‘sup let’s not talk about the fact that this has taken me nearly 3 years to update and pretend everything is normal. Yeah? Yeah. What are your thoughts and feelings? Is the time skip too extra? Or just extra enough? Would you have drank the coffee to be polite or spat it out? Let me know! As always I love hearing from you all!

If you’ve stuck around this long, omg thank you so much. If you’re new to my writing, welcome and thank you so much. It’s been a hot minute, I hope you’re all doing well and staying safe out there! I’ve been stressed as fuck and figured there’s no better cure than writing absolute crack. Stay tuned for nonsense!

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rissynicole · 3 years

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DTIYS Contest Prize: Rllyaangrlly

Here is the first of the one-shots promised to the three winners of the DTIYS event I put on recently. (Thank you guys for being patient with me, btw. I’m a very slow writer, and you’re seeing it in action). Just as the title states, this one is for @rllyaangrlly, based on her requests.

This was a ton of fun and gave me an opportunity to not only shake some writing rust, but work with topics I don’t normally explore. More than anything, I was able to try to emulate the vibes Brit gives these characters in her own art/writing. I wish I had a better word for it, but I’ve always felt like Brit has a certain “aesthetic” with the IZ characters through her drawing style, the situations she puts them in, and her overall portrayal of their personalities. I’ve always adored it, and it was an honor to be able to try my hand at writing it.

Story is under the cut.

Characters: Dib, Zim, Gaz

Relationships: ZaGr, ZaDf

Warnings: minor injuries

Words: 3,706

Absurdity

The car’s engine and the drone of its wheels on the highway were the only sounds that passed between the three. The radio hadn’t been turned on, and no one had the gall nor the desire to change that. Not Zim, who was turned almost completely towards the window in the passenger seat, nor Gaz in the backseat. They drove along in heavy silence as Dib stared stonily ahead of him at the stretch of road, hands gripping the wheel numbly.

Dating. They’re… dating.

The idea was positively absurd to him. Not only did it feel weirdly out of the realm of possibility, but it felt wrong, somehow. Like some sort of tasteless prank. When Zim had told him, he’d half expected the camera crew from Punk’d to come parading around the corner, led by Ashton Kutcher, to point and laugh at the look on Dib’s face. “Can you believe it?! Your best friend—alien best friend—and your little sister! You totally fell for it!”

That almost would have been better. Cruel and mortifying, maybe, but better. At least then, he wouldn’t be sitting behind the wheel of the car trying to make sense of it while the two pretended not to notice from inches away. But it wasn’t a prank. Hell, Dib wasn’t famous enough to be on Punk’d anyway. Maybe someday… but not today.

A little part of him had high hopes for the series of paranormal investigation videos he and Zim had strung together. Lately, that little part of him had stopped feeling so childish, too. Their following had risen significantly over the last few months, gaining more and more traction as people tuned in. Suddenly, their modest little support net of viewers was in the hundreds. Then the thousands. Then the hundred-thousands. Truth be told, Zim and Dib hadn’t really come across anything of substance in their investigations, but their newer viewers weren’t exactly around for solid proof of the paranormal, anyway. It hadn’t taken long for the two to realize that most of the channel’s appeal came from the dripping sarcasm and witty banter directed at one another.

“Chemistry” was an apt word, and it got thrown around a lot. Zim and Dib, quite by accident, had become the up-and-coming best friend duo in the paranormal community. And with each new investigation, they garnered more and more recognition.

That’s where they were headed now, towards Ottawa National Forest to investigate the latest hot spot Dib’s research had led him to. The “Paulding Light” was a strange phenomenon, appearing in a single spot in the woods and taking form of a bright glow before fading off into the darkness of the night. Though plenty of locals could attest to having seen it, no one could feasibly explain it. Dib was determined to catch it on camera. Or at least he had been, before Zim had dropped the bomb on him right before leaving the house.

Dating. They’re… dating.

His thoughts rounded back, and he felt his hands readjust themselves on the steering wheel. Behind him, Gaz sighed quietly and cross her legs. He almost swore he could sense her and Zim exchange a glance through the rearview mirror, but he really had no way of knowing. He didn’t really want to know.

Dating.

“What’s the exit?” he asked, jarring them all back to reality.

Zim paused before answering. “It’s a couple down. Not this one, but the next.”

They returned to silence. Even as Dib’s blinkers resounded through the car and they exited off the highway. Even as the smooth highway turned to bumpy asphalt, then later, dirt roads.

At last, Zim spoke. “Dib—”

“I’m not mad,” he interrupted. “I’m just…I don’t know what I am. I need to process this. Just…” He trailed off, his mouth a thin line.

Zim and Gaz glanced at each other through the rearview again.

Eventually, they pulled into a dirt lot and spilled out of the little hatchback, glad for a break in the tension that had been all-consuming throughout the entire car ride. Gaz leaned back, popping her joints before heading to the trunk of the car where the camping supplies and camera equipment was. Zim took over, gathering it up and taking inventory of what they had brought along.

Just as before, everything was done without a word. No one really knew what to say. Gaz and Zim were giving Dib his space, and the latter still seemed to be at a loss. Driving hadn’t really cleared his head as he’d lamely claimed it would; it’d just made him more flustered.

Before long, they were off. The hike through the woods was only marginally less uncomfortable than the car ride had been, but the open air helped. Dib led the way, walking along the dimming trail as dusk settled in. The plan was to find a place to set up camp near the area where the Paulding Light supposedly made its appearance. Then, they’d hike again—this time under the cover of darkness—with the cameras rolling.

As the daylight slowly dissipated and the cool air settled in, Gaz paused to unhook her backpack from around her shoulders. Her jacket was inside, probably balled up beneath all the other crap she’d packed for this little excursion. Before she could even get her bag unzipped, though, Zim handed her his own sweatshirt.

She glanced up, and a wordless argument passed between them.

Now you’re going to be cold, her glare told him.

He gave her a challenging, almost haughty glance in return. Just put it on. I’m fine.

Gaz huffed a little and rolled her eyes, but ultimately acquiesced. She bunched it up and pulled it over her head. It was an overlarge navy hoodie with their college name and emblem branded on the front in bright, almost obnoxious yellow font. Zim had been wearing it almost religiously since October had arrived and the first freeze of the year had swept through their neighborhood.

When her face appeared at the neckline, she made brief accidental eye contact with Dib. He averted his eyes quickly. His mouth was still in that tight, thin line.

They continued on, walking until they’d found a suitable place to set up camp. Just as agonizingly silent as before, they set to tidying up the area, pulling out their sleeping bags, and taking inventory of the food they’d brought.

At this, Zim reached into one of the backpacks, eyes lighting up at a bag of jumbo marshmallows. Gaz slapped it away, all pretenses forgotten for a second. “Knock it off. We still have to film,” she said.

He snagged one anyway, popping it in his mouth defiantly before chuckling at her wavering attempt at a serious expression. They locked eyes for a moment, and then Gaz finally dropped it and began laughing along with him.

Dib cleared his throat.

They both turned and looked at him, smiles dropping instantly.

“Let’s get going,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose and looking up at the smattering of stars up ahead. “You have the camera, Gaz?”

She nodded and held it up.

Dib did his best to not look behind him at Gaz and Zim as they walked on. Suddenly, any playful or even amicable interaction between them had taken on a whole new meaning. Because it wasn’tjust amicable.

Dating. They’re… dating.

It made him feel like the last few months had been a lie. It wasn’t just him, his sister, and his best friend anymore. It was him, his sister, and his sister’s boyfriend.

He visibly shuddered as he stepped over a fallen tree branch. Ugh, he didn’t want to think about that.

About a mile in, they began to hear running water. Sure enough, only about five minutes later they came upon a fallen tree that spanned about the width of the trail. Some quick observation showed that it was acting as a sort of bridge over a shallow stream about five or six feet below.

“I guess this is sturdy enough,” Dib muttered, testing the strength of the log. He peered over the edge at the water. At this point, night had fallen proper. A small slice of moon illuminated the sky, casting down on the stream. Dark water glinted here and there as it passed over rocks.

He began to walk over it, arms held out for balance. He hadn’t said much at all, despite Gaz currently filming. She held the camera up anyway, sighing inwardly.

What a waste this trip was. Who the hell would want to watch a video of Dib moodily wandering through the woods all night?

As for Zim, he had hardly uttered a word, either. And he was usually the comic relief of their little program. The fact that Zim was quiet wasn’t just bizarre; it was unsettling.

Zim stepped up on the log, followed by Gaz, who was still holding the camera out in front of herself. The disproportionate weight made her lose her balance for a moment, which was then exacerbated when the entire log rocked along with her. On instinct, Zim reached out and caught her by the wrist.

Dib turned, still halfway across their little bridge over the stream. He glanced at the two blankly. Then, his eyes narrowed. Even in the darkness, the intensity of his glare met Zim’s eyes.

“Would it kill you to not fondle my sister in the middle of the night while we’re trying to film?” Dib muttered.

“What are you talking about, Earth-stink?” It was clear Zim’s already-thin patience was running dry. These days, nearly a decade after arriving on earth, he only pulled out the immature nicknames when he on the verge of arguing.

Dib simply gesticulated at Zim’s hand, still grasping Gaz’s wrist. Zim looked at him incredulously and then let go of her.

“Dib…” Gaz growled, “You’re acting like an asshole.”

I’m acting like an asshole?!” he said, the hours of tension suddenly bubbling to the surface. “You’re the one who decided to… to…” He was at a loss for words.

Gaz darkened nonetheless, eyes glinting. “I didn’t ‘decide’ to do anything! And if I knew you were just going to sulk the whole time, I would have stayed the fuck home! Do I even have to remind you that I do this shit as a favor to you?” She waved the camera in front of her, and Dib paled at both her words and the prospect of it slipping from her grip and into the stream several feet below them. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn’t even want to go camping right after my midterms?”

“A favor for me, sure!” Dib shot back. Maybe some people could be perfectly silent for hours on end and be perfectly calm. His temper had never allowed for that. He was speaking without thinking, and he could feel it. It still didn’t stop the word-vomit from coming. “You sure it’s a favor for me and not a favor for your little boyfriend over there?”

He gestured vaguely towards the “boyfriend” in question, who’s face was beginning to match Gaz’s. Before Zim could open his mouth, though, Gaz lunged forward, right into Dib’s face. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut the fuck up right now!”

The fallen tree they were balanced on began to rock a little, and Zim’s eyes went wide as he clambered to keep his footing. “Gaz—”

“Stay out of it, Zim!”

“I will not!” he shot back. “Not when you’re both acting like complete—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. The log rocked again, and this time, Gaz’s balance didn’t withstand. The little hand-held camcorder slipped from her grasp, and she instinctively lurched towards it with her hands outstretched. Zim, operating on the same instinct, tried to catch her again. His foot slipped out from under him along with a crumbling of tree bark that had split off the log

“W-woah!” Dib shouted. His eyes bulged from behind his glasses. He reached for both of them, catching the sleeve of Gaz’s hoodie and Zim’s arm to try to keep them from falling over the side. He only succeeded in making the sorry excuse for a bridge rock yet again. At that point, it seemed, the log decided it was no longer interested in keeping three fully grown adults upright and out of the water. It rocked, crumbled, and then slipped from where it had been wedged between the two ends of the hiking trail.

Dib, Zim, and Gaz went tumbling off. High, clipped shouts preceding their fall, then a series of splashing.

The water below was cold, but not terribly so. It was a shallow, slow-moving stream. Almost more of an inconvenience than anything. Even so, the drop was high enough that Dib landed on the balls of his feet, skidded out, and skinned both elbows as he fell clumsily onto his rump.

He groaned, cupping one scraped elbow in his palm. Already beginning to internally bemoan his soaking-wet clothes, he turned to Gaz. His anger was beginning to return to him in place of shock.

“Great. That’s a new camera down the fucking drain.”

Instead of an onslaught of choice words back at him, however, Gaz didn’t respond. She wasn’t even looking in his direction. Instead, she was turned away, hunched over something in the darkness. It took him a moment to realize what she was doing. At her feet, Zim’s body was lying halfway in the stream, completely motionless.

Gaz whipped around to look at Dib, soggy tendrils of hair stuck to her cheeks. She no longer looked angry. “I think he hit his head. Help me get him out of here!”

Dib’s eyes widened, and without thinking, he hurried around Gaz’s other side, grabbing Zim’s shoulder and hauling him to the grassy bank a few feet away. “Is he okay?” he shouted.

“I don’t know. Move!” She dropped to her knees in front of him. His wig sat like a sodden mop on his head, and she pulled it off before it could burn his scalp any more than it had. The worry she so evidently felt was plastered all over her face. Even in the darkness, Dib could see it. He was worried, too, but it was strange to see it so plainly on Gaz of all people. She had always been the more level-headed of the two, and seeing her normally morose, carefully composed poker-face fall away so quickly made Dib feel like he’d entered some alternate dimension.

Seconds later, Zim came around. With a moan, his eyelids fluttered open to reveal one contact and one overbright pink eye.

Gaz didn’t fuss or wring her hands, but she sighed noticeably in relief, then began asking him questions. (What is your name? Where are you right now?)

Zim answered in turn, seemingly fine. His hand wrapped around to the back of his head to absently massage at a growing bump, though. He groaned again and sat up.

“You need to get out of those clothes,” Dib said. He could hear a distant sizzling—the awful sound of water against Zim’s skin. Even in their days of mortal rivalry, that sound had always had a visceral effect that could pierce through any bluster and leave Dib cringing inwardly.

Gaz nodded her head in agreement. “Come on,” she said. She rose to her feet, then helped Zim up.

“I’m fine. This isn’t the first time this has happened on this filthy planet,” he muttered. The fire that had been in his voice just moments before had been snuffed out. He tugged at his soggy clothing and scratched at the rashes that were beginning to form on his arms and torso.

Before Dib had time to realize what was happening, they were walking ahead of him back to their camp. Gaz was leading the way this time. Zim managed to keep up, wincing in pain occasionally.

When they got back, Gaz beelined to Zim’s bags. While he ducked behind some brush and changed into new clothes, she pulled out a small first aid kit with the Irken insignia printed on the outside.

“He’ll need the—” Dib started. He stopped when he saw Gaz pull out the exact tube of antibiotic cream he had been about to gesture towards. She glanced at the Irken characters—Irken characters Dib hadn’t known she could read—and opened it.

“Can you hand me the bandages from your bag?” she asked.

Dib shot her a weird look but reached for the bandages anyway. “You know, his PAK heals him pretty quickly. I don’t think he even really needs them.”

“Yeah, but bandaging it up makes him whine about it less,” she said. She tried to hide the smile that had begun to form on her lips.

Dib handed it over and began to build a fire for the three of them.

Zim returned then, dressed in clean, dry clothes. While Gaz helped treat and bandage the worst of the burns, Dib kept silent. This time, however, it wasn’t out of whatever conglomerate of frustration he’d been feeling earlier. He was watching his sister coyly.

Gaz was not the maternal type. Throughout their entire lives, Gaz’s words and actions had been laced in a gruff sort of outer layer that warned others she was not to be trifled with. She kept her circle small and very rarely expressed any emotion other than cool apathy or outright anger.

The way she was acting towards Zim was a far cry from her normal self. Dib had only ever seen her like this on a handful of other occasions. When those memories drifted to him and he realized the common denominator, he suddenly felt uneasy. The tenderness in which she wrapped Zim’s forearm was with the same silent, admonishing tenderness she’d shown Dib when he’d gotten injured during his own idiotic exploits over the years.

Meanwhile, Zim sat slumped against a tree, letting her bandage him up without a fuss. While he was making an attempt at nonchalance, it was clear he was practically falling asleep where was sitting.

That was another little thing Gaz seemed to either know already or manage to take in stride: something about injuries made Zim unusually tired afterwards. For as long as Dib had known him, he’d been this way. Dib had deducted it was because his PAK was using more energy than usual, and Zim had more or less confirmed it. Even so, it was rather unsettling to see anyone sustain an injury and then drop off to sleep moments later like a narcoleptic.

That’s precisely what Zim was doing now, now. As soon as Gaz finished with the last bandage, she shook his shoulder to wake him. With the last of his energy, he shuffled to his sleeping bag and practically faceplanted onto it. Within seconds, he had dropped off to sleep.

Gaz patted his hand.

Dating, Dib thought yet again.

It was absurd. That was the only way he could put it. It didn’t make any sense. Almost…almost as absurd as the idea of him being friends with Zim in the first place.

He frowned and began to pull at the loose strings of a bracelet he’d worn on his wrist for the last year or so. Zim had an almost identical one that he, too, never removed.

Hadn’t there been a time when he couldn’t imagine himself being anything but Zim’s enemy? And now they were almost inseparable. If he could get used to that, why couldn’t he get used to this?

He glanced down at the bracelet and sighed. “You really care about him, don’t you?” he said finally.

Gaz glanced up, her face guarded. “I wouldn’t be with him if I didn’t.”

“And he treats you well?”

“What kind of stupid question is that?” She made a face, but it wasn’t entirely hostile. “I wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t.”

Dib’s eyes fell on Zim, who was snoring lightly. He didn’t doubt that. “Okay,” he said through another exhale.

“‘Okay,’ what?” Gaz said, raising a brow. “I don’t need your ‘blessing,’ Dib. I just want—”

“—No, no, no. I don’t mean it that way,” Dib said quickly, “I mean ‘okay,’ I will get used to this. And I’ll stop being such an asshole.” He quirked his lip upward in a humorless smile at the last part. “I’m sorry, Gaz. I could have handled that a lot better, and I didn’t.”

She pulled her knees to her chest and stared into the crackling fire. “Apology accepted.”

Zim began to stir then, one hand reaching out to scratch at his bandages.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Gaz said softly, taking the hand and moving it away. She made to rifle through their bags but was stopped when Zim’s hand closed around hers. He held her in place and began to murmur incoherently.

Gaz smiled; a sweet, serene smile Dib very rarely saw. “Just give me a minute,” she told Zim. She squeezed his hand and pulled away, unzipping the bag closest to her and retrieving what she was looking for—the marshmallows Zim had been after earlier.

She pressed one into his palm, and his fingers wrapped around it groggily.

Over the next hour, he slowly came out of whatever fog his PAK had put him through as it worked to heal him. By morning, the irritated rashes from the water would be gone and the bump on his head would be nothing but a distant memory.

Not for the first time, Dib thought about how strange Irkens were.

Over the rest of the night, the three gathered around the fire, roasting marshmallows. Even through the lulls in conversation, the tension that had practically been a permanent fixture earlier was gone. Instead, they slipped into their new dynamic. A dynamic that was, as Dib had claimed, absurd. But when hadn’t it been? Not when Zim had first arrived on Earth. Not when years and events had passed them by, and enmity had melded to friendship. And not now.

Absurdity was their specialty, and they were learning to wear it proudly.

~The End~

#invader zim #dtiysparade contest prizes #zagr #zadf #my writing #rllyaangrlly

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albino-whumpee · 3 years

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Forgotten

Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker

Please tell me if you´d like me to add or remove you from the list.

Revamped this little extra entirely. Hope you like it!

CW// Desrealization, dissoci@tion, PTSD, amnesia, conditioning, pet whump, creepy caretaker and some angst.

It was late evening on a Friday. An unusually lazy day, where Zarai had gone back home earlier than closing time. Although, it had become almost routine to take the long way home on Fridays.

When that happened she got in her car, put the radio and went around the city. Albus got weirdly excited whenever they passed something familiar, like a supermarket or the highway to work. Because it meant they were soon to get home. However, he also deeply enjoyed seeing new things.

The school with white tiles and the copper statue of a man in robes, or the library next to it with a modern glass and steel structure that allowed to see through the many students fighting to stay awake during finals week.

He was marveled by the colors of all the small and big stores in the business district. He always tried to memorize their colors so he could draw them later.

His glasses had now made the world clearer to him and used any opportunity to burn into his memory every sight.

Albus particularly liked passing the park. If he stretched his neck a bit and squinted, he could see the lake hidden by a thick layer of trees. Somehow, it sparked a certain displeasure on the back of his head to catch a glimpse of water, but he loved the colors reflected in the water when the sun went down.

He was looking at the windows of a candy store when Zarai asked him the usual question on those days.

“Do you see anything familiar?”

He gave one last look at the intersection. The candy store in one side, the entrance to a larger building on the other and a newspaper stand in front of a coffee shop.

“No, ma’am” it was the answer most times. She would sigh and put her hand on her cheek before making the car move again.

He would then lower his head, rounding his thumbs over each other before looking out the window again. Trying to catch something that was familiar to satisfy his obviously displeased owner.

“Nothing?” She insisted.

“Only those, ma’am” he pointed to the signs that read the highway was 300 meters to the right. She sighed loudly before turning right. “I´m sorry”

“It´s ok, Al. I think is enough for today. We went north last week, so. Next week we will go a bit further to the west” she told herself. Albus nodded, wondering what exactly was she looking for.

He rested his head on the window, staring outside as the radio changed songs.

A metallic sound making the harmony of a guitar solo. Just before the battery started, his fingers were already tapping to the rhythm. In perfect sync.

It took a bit before Zarai caught him humming to the song. Lost in thought staring outside the window.

“...I am leaving. This is starting to feel like its right before my eyes. And I can taste it, it’s my sweet beginning“he whispered along, before the guitar riff pulled a smile on his face. “This was Annie’s favorite” Zarai glanced at him, surprised. She listened to his singing, waiting for a follow up of that Annie. But it didn’t come. The song kept playing making company to his humming.

“I can tell is what you want, you don’t want to be alone, you don’t want to be alone…”

Zarai tightened her grip on the wheel.

“But you’ve known it the whole time. Yeah, you’ve known it the whole time…”

She waited until the song was over to ask “So who’s this Annie?” She asked as she turned right to enter the road leading to a dreaded place by both. Surrounded by thick woods, WRU´s training facility poked through the tree tops and made the boy next to her tense up.

She kept a tight eye on the road as her head made a movie that sparked up a slight pain on her back. However, she didn´t dare show that to the boy who looked as if he had forgotten how to breathe until they had crossed that part of the highway.

Albus turned his head slightly to make sure they were leaving the facility behind with a hand settled on his collar. Twisting the buckles between his fingers as if trying to make sure it was indeed still wrapped around his neck.

“So” Zarai started, making the boy snap back at her “Who´s Annie?”

Albus looked at her, puzzled.

“Annie, Ma’am?” He repeated the words, strange on his mouth suddenly.

“Yeah, you said that was her favorite song” Albus eyebrows furrowed slightly as he tilted his head, not understanding.

“I did?” He looked at the road and stayed quiet for a while, rummaging through his memories and only flaring up the pain behind his eyes “I’m sorry, I- I don’t remember, ma’am”

“It’s fine, don’t force yourself” she sighed, taking another look at him before pulling her eyes back to the rows of houses.

During those weekly strolls, Albus had told her intermittently something reminded him of Annie. The newspaper stand in front of the coffee shop was where he bought her comics. The statue, where they would meet if they got lost. The park was where they would go after school and stay there until deep night.

But every time, he forgot immediately he had even said anything. It wasn’t abnormal he tuned out after talking sometimes, but she wondered if it was just part of his training or if it was a coping mechanism to protect him from bad memories.

Regardless, she would wait for the day he would tell her something that stuck. Maybe something that would make him remember his Annie. Whoever that was. But she couldn´t help but wonder if it would stay as a broken fragment of his memory, unable to recall it properly forever. Like his name.

“Albus?” Zarai asked, tapping on the wheel.

“Yes, ma´am?”

She gouged his face, looking for something that showed he was uncomfortable, that it pained him to hear her call, but there was nothing but eagerness and a faint smile, just like when she named him.

“Are you hungry?” she changed the subject before pulling over to the mall close to their home "Let´s get something for dinner, yeah? It´s been a rough week and I´m dying to get something that doesn’t come in my diet”

“That would be amazing, ma´am” the boy said with unusual sincerity. The bags under his eyes were only getting darker as the days passed.

“We´re going to get you new clothes too. You basically swim in most of them” The boy blushed slightly as he looked down at himself. “It´s a good thing. I´m glad some fit you now”

“Are you happy with me, ma´am?” he suddenly asked her as she parked the car. It took her a second to smile back at him.

“Yeah, I am” she said and almost laughed when he saw his eyes spark “What about you?” the boy´s smile fractured “Are you happy here? With me?”

“I...I´m allowed a bed, and take hot baths, and have...friends. I´m even allowed to go out with my I.D. alone and earn money for myself” he started pointing out with a smile, but Zarai took a deep breath.

“But are you happy?”

The boy´s smile cracked again and his eyes fell down before he quickly pulled them back up. The answer to her question took a bit longer to come out.

“I couldn´t be happier with my life as your Pet” the boy said in that broken record tone and a fake smile. The fog on his eyes only made it clearer to her he didn’t mean it.

“I see. I´m glad” she sighed before Albus stepped out of the car and rounded it to open her door for her. She reeled back the water on her eyes and slid down her sunglasses as she stepped out of the car and walked, knowing the albino walked one step behind her. Knowing he would never try to cross that distance.

#whump #my writing #writing #whumpblr #angst #hurt comfort #tw desrealization #tw dissociation #tw ptsd #amnesia #tw conditioning #pet whump #creepy caretaker #zarai #albus #whumpee #caretaker #you came back a stranger

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

Text

bags are simply too easy

pike jj x reader

gift wrapping 101

oops more pre-relationship

(warnings: cursing, stupid men, rushed editing)

“Okay,” you clapped your hands to quiet all three boys down, “this is gift wrapping 101. All of you are fucking terrible and you need to know for the future how to do anything besides just buying bags.”

“Bags are convenient,” Tyler tried to bargain.

“Bags are a cop out unless it’s really weirdly shaped and not worth the effort to wrap.”

JJ shrugged, “None of them are worth the effort.”

“It will be impressive in the future to whoever you losers end up with.”

Cody smirked, “I simply do not aspire to impress.”

“Mhmm, and that’s why you’re single.”

He scoffed, “Single by choice, baby.”

JJ raised his eyebrows, “You missed a Tinder date last week to play in a house video game tournament.”

“That’s very important,” Cody pointed at him, “and you’ve done it before too.”

“Okay, we’re not talking about me right now.”

You rolled your eyes, “Sit down all of you and be quiet while I show you. This will be a participative exercise. We’re wrapping all my gifts except Secret Santa so you guys better not fuck it up.”

“No promises,” Tyler held his hands up but sat just like you told him.

You had all the gifts spread out on the bed and picked up the most basic boxed shape one. Showing it to them, you started, “Okay, this is wrapping basics. Pay attention.”

You spread out the paper and wrapped it slowly, explaining each step. All of their attention spans and learning curves were burned into your memory, so you knew it would take Tyler almost no time at all, JJ would be next because his attention span was better than Cody’s, and Cody would need at least three walk-throughs.

When you finished Tyler was nodding, “Easy peasy, hand one over.”

You snorted but did as he asked, picking the easiest one left in the pile. Turning to the other two, you asked, “One more time?”

“At least,” Cody spoke up.

Grabbing a more difficult one to get out of the way, you walked them through it again, and by the time you finished, Tyler had a clumsily but decently wrapped gift in his hands. You took it to make sure there were no gaps and nodded, “Great job, bud.”

“Suck it,” he told the other boys who both flipped him off in return. You rolled your eyes and handed one to JJ who looked like he was ready to try.

“You got it, J,” you reassured, and he nodded, determined.

Cody watched eagerly, waiting for JJ to fuck up, and to your excitement and Cody’s disappointment, he didn’t.

“Get fucked,” JJ happily told him, tossing you the gift.

Cody gave you a pleading look, “Can’t I just put bows on them all?”

“No.”

“But why not?” he whined.

“Because this is an important skill and I will not let you fail.”

Shooing JJ and Tyler out of the room so they weren’t making him nervous anymore, you sat across from him, knees touching, and walked him through it twice more until he finally felt comfortable enough to try.

Not to your surprise, his was the best of the three, and he squeezed you tightly in a hug when you told him.

“You want to help me wrap the last few?”

He blinked a few times, clearly surprised, “You sure?”

“You have the best handle on it.”

Looking pleased, he nodded eagerly, getting better with each one you handed him. When they were all wrapped, you held your fist out for him to bump, and he did so, saying, “I’m glad you forced me into this.”

You rolled your eyes again, and handed him a roll of wrapping paper, “For you to do your own.”

“Fucking sick,” he gripped it tightly to his chest with wide eyes.

Isaac and JJ wandered back in a few moments later, and you handed them each a roll of their own, instructing them, “Each of you wrap Secret Santa. We’ll do a best wrapping competition. But know if we were to judge today, Cody would win.”

Tyler and JJ got a competitive glint in their eye while Cody just looked at the design on his wrapping paper.

After a few seconds, JJ feigned interest, “So where’s Zach in all this?”

“Zach already knows how to wrap gifts.”

Tyler grinned, “Of course he does, man is practically perfect.”

“Practically,” you agreed.

“Have you found any flaws yet?” Cody batted his eyelashes playfully, finally tuning into the conversation.

“I have. We’ve been dating almost a year, so.”

“So I’m sure he’s seen all your flaws then too,” JJ commented with a snort, looking down at his phone.

You furrowed your eyebrows, a little hurt, and Tyler elbowed him in the side. When JJ looked up and looked around, confused, Tyler rolled his eyes and dragged him out of the room. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t go far enough, and you could overhear them talking.

“Just because you’re jealous,” Tyler hissed, “doesn’t mean you get to be a dick. Play nice or go home.”

JJ huffed, “I’m not being a dick, I’m stating a fact.”

“No, you’re being a dick and we both know it.”

After a few seconds of silence, JJ sighed, “Fine.”

“Good, now go apologize.”

Cody quirked his eyebrows at you as they walked back in. JJ did at least look remorseful, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, it was meant to come off as a joke.”

You felt off balanced, “It’s fine. Thanks for apologizing.”

With that, you moved on, but you spent the rest of the time feeling strange. You think only Tyler noticed because he was the first to suggest they leave to give you time to wrap. When he hugged you goodbye, he bent down, “We’ll straighten him out.”

You huffed out a laugh, “It’s all good.”

“It’s really not but okay.”

When Secret Santa day arrived, the four of you gathered at the frat house to open gifts. Much to your surprise, they’d actually wrapped them like you asked. Peering down at them, you pointed at Tyler’s, “Much better, dude.”

He looked proud, “I practiced.”

JJ’s was the worst, “This isn’t great.”

He shrugged, “I mean it’s just you guys.”

You chose not to answer because if it was for you, your feelings were going to be a little hurt, and you were tired of him doing that, even if he’d made up for the whole Brooke situation.

Cody’s was the best still, “Cody wins,” you announced.

He cheered, “Fuck yeah, what do I get?”

“My love.” He scoffed, so you rolled your eyes, “Fine, I’ll buy you a burrito next week.”

“Done.”

Much to your relief, when you all opened gifts, Tyler had you, and JJ handed his shitty one to Cody. Cody wrinkled his nose, “Bro I’m lowkey offended. I deserve better.”

“Open the fucking gift, drama queen.”

It was a nice pair of running shoes, so Cody got over it pretty quick. You couldn’t help but take note of the lack of effort. Maybe it was stupid and you were overanalyzing it, but it was almost as if JJ didn’t care.

Tyler caught your eye and seemed to be thinking the same thing, but he shrugged like what can you do. And you supposed he was right.

Once all the gifts were distributed, you stood up, “Group hug boys.”

They crowded in tight for a few seconds before Tyler pulled away, “I’m going to make hot chocolate. Someone start a movie.”

When you sat down there was a text from Zach asking how things were going, and you answered him happily, a small smile on your face. You didn’t notice JJ staring at you, and by the time you’d put your phone down to focus on the movie, he’d looked away.

for day 18 of @obxmermaid‘s holiday challenge: wrapping presents

#pike!jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fic #cody and tyler #outer banks #outer banks fic #obxmermaidholiday #frat!jj

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prose-for-hire · 4 years

Text

A rose between two thorns

Pairing: Spike x fem!reader; Angel x fem!reader

Request: Not requested. Been sitting in my drafts forever I wasn’t sure about posting. Reader works at Wolfram and Hart and knew Angel and Spike from Sunnydale. They’re both vying for reader’s affections but the pair soon find out her attention is elsewhere.

A/N: S5 Angel. Spike and Angel in a pissing contest over someone? Say it ain’t so. Reader is popular with men lol. Also, I’d say Spangel was subtext, but it’s just plain text really.

You noticed something was off as soon as you came in that morning. There was an unusual vibe, which, was saying something seeing as you worked at a mystical law firm. You had taken over PA duties from Harmony, considering Angel and the others trusted you a bit more than her. You were human, but you had faced anything the Hellmouth had thrown at you with the others you met in high school. You had been there at the final battle of Sunnydale, just about surviving and then moving to LA to become a receptionist. Which had been the job you had kept applying for without luck when you lived in Sunnydale. Sometimes, life does have a way of working itself out even though you might have to stake a few uber vampires or sell your soul to a mystical law firm for it to happen.

You caught Fred hissing something to Angel before leaving his office, smiling at you kindly before she left. She also stopped and pulled on Spike’s sleeve and brought him down to her lab with her, leaving you waving your good morning greeting. You went through your usual routine, eventually walking up to Angel’s office, knocking first before smiling at him, a newspaper, some files and a mug of blood in your hands.

“Hey, I’ve got the files you asked for and I warmed your blood up to the temperature you like” You smile pleasantly, setting the items down, you were really grateful to Angel for giving you a job. He had always been nice to you (apart from that brief period in high school where he tried to violently kill you). “Thanks, y/n, what would I do without you, huh?” “Probably getting double-crossed by Harmony given half the chance” You smiled and he laughed a little too hard at your flippant comment. It shocked you, his face rarely twisted into a smile let alone a real laugh. You smiled along, a little perplexed at his change in attitude. “How you doin’ then? I mean adjusting- you know, outside the Hellmouth” “It’s been okay, it’s surprisingly similar here. Kind of a home from home” You smiled as he nodded along, as if he were being given guidance from an invisible director on how to visibly show how interested he was. If you were honest, it was a bit weird, “Are you okay Angel?” “yeah- why? What’s up? Have I- are you comfortable?” “Um, I’m at work, so comfort isn’t really the main reason I’m here… mostly I come in to see your face” You joked, grinning at him as he smiled a little. He noticed you were trying to put him at ease and realised he had probably come across a bit strange.

You walked back out of the office smiling as Angel watched you walk out, mentally face-palming. His luck with potential partners had been pretty hopeless and you made him nervous in a way he wasn’t really used to. Fred had enough of him skirting around you so had given him non-negotiable advice. She told him to be kind, listen and to make sure he showed a genuine interest.

You sat down, sifting through paperwork and trying to keep yourself away from the half-read magazine under your desk that you liked to sneak glances at when Angel was out. You were interrupted from looking busy by a British accent.

“Alright, pet? That’s a very pretty outfit you got on, it new?” Spike asked, leaning over your desk as he waited for word from the others on the latest case. He enjoyed spending time with you though, he had tried all his best lines out on you so he had resorted to just complimenting anything about you he could find.

“No, you’ve seen me in this before” You reminded him, pressing hold on a few calls. He tried to recall, a frown on his face, “That time you could walk about in the sun? I was going to a job interview - you tried to bite me and you told me I looked like a meringue” you reminded him.

“See? I even liked it then” He offered.

“You were being rude then, Spike. But thanks for the compliment, I appreciate it – really” You assured him, noticing his furrow as he thought back to how he had been before he got his soul. Angel saw Spike talking to you through the glass of his office. He groaned, knowing that Spike was trying to sweet talk you again. He got frustrated when Spike muscled in on the people he was interested in. You enjoyed the attention you got from them both, but it started to get a bit annoying when you were all in the same room. They tended to actually ignore you for each other, always trying to out-do the other. It was tiring and it distracted you from your work, but you couldn’t help still being fond of them both when you could speak to them normally. Spike had been talking and you were smiling along, he had a good sense of humour and he had been making jokes about some of the people walking past that made you snort loud. He grinned at this, segueing into what he had really wanted to ask.

“You got plans tonight then, love? ‘Cause I was thinkin-” Spike started, but Angel had come up behind him to interrupt his advances.

“Stop bothering my employees, Spike. Y/n’s very busy”

“Yeah, she’s been holding all your calls. Takes a lot out of our girl pressing buttons all day, I was thinking I’d treat her later-”

For some reason, both of them became double confident when they were together in the room, despite them both being weirdly reserved around you recently. There was a tension and both of them were competing together. Enjoying the competition more than your company, it seemed. You tuned their squabbling out, a talent that should come in your job description as you started to type up a few notes from a case.

“You know he used to parade around in an SS jacket?” Angel cut in, crossing his arms and standing nearer to you behind your desk. Spike glared at him.

“Yes, I heard when I was tied up almost choking to death – this job should really come with better health insurance”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I can look into it” Angel suddenly said, straightening up and remembering he was actually your boss.

“Don’t think you can get in her knickers just by flashing your big CEO title around and get her better health insurance” Spike warned, turning to you briefly to assure you that, “I can get you health insurance, love, just tell me where to point my game face”

“Excuse me, into my what?” Your eyes widened, it had been escalating but this was just rude. This is where you worked.

“Not now, Y/n, Spike’s being an idiot for, oh, the hundredth consecutive year of his un-life” You glared at them both, took your jacket and left to go and vent to someone in a different department. This was typical. Fighting over you as if you were some prize to be won. They like you but apparently, they were more interested in each other. You were just their most recent way to get one over on the other and make the tension almost unbearable.

You only returned late afternoon having avoided the vampires for the rest of the day. Angel and Spike looked a bit embarrassed as they saw you slamming angel’s mug on his desk, splattering blood on one of his files. Spike came into the office and the three of you looked at each other in an icy silence. They both opened their mouths at the same time, then stopped realising the other was going to speak. “I need to leave early is that okay?” You ask before they tried to apologise again. “Yeah, sure. Why?” Angel asked. “I’ve got a date” you shrugged, walking out with them both staring after you. They watched you through the glass and saw Gunn come up behind you and ask if you were ready to go. You smiled as he asked about your day with a genuine interest, listening to what you had been up to. You chatted and you even giggled a little and the vampires scowled at the way you seemed to light up in a way neither of them had been able to get out of you.

“What the bloody hell has Dr franken-chip got that we don’t!?” Spike muttered referring to the upgrade Gunn had to become a lawyer, “If I’d known that’s what she was into I’d have kept mine in a sodding jar and brought her home on the promise of touching it”

“Spike. Stop” Angel warned as they both watched you leave, Gunn’s hand on the small of your back.

“No, I mean it! What does he have!?”

“A life?” Angel sighed, before stating, “This is good. I’m happy for them”

“No you’re bloody not, Mr tall dark and forehead has to look for another chit to obsess over now”

“You’re one to talk, Spike. I found the poems you wrote” He muttered.

“You bloody git-” Spike started but Angel had already stalked out of his office to get to one of his cars before Spike could catch up to him. Spike started to follow him out before he could get much of a head-start though. How come through everything it was always each other they ended up with at the end of the day?

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aiweirdness · 5 years

Text

Dungeon crawling or lucid dreaming?

I’ve done several experiments with a text-generating neural network called GPT-2. Trained at great expense by OpenAI (to the tune of tens of thousands of dollars worth of computing power), GPT-2 learned to imitate all kinds of text from the internet. I’ve interacted with the basic model, discovering its abilities to generate fan fiction, British snacks, or tea. I’ve also used a tool called gpt-2-simple that Max Woolf developed to make it easy to finetune GPT-2 on more specialized datasets - I’ve tried it on datasets like recipes or crochet. One of my favorite applications of GPT-2 and other text-generating neural nets is Dungeons and Dragons spells, creatures, character names, and character bios.

Recently Max published a tutorial on how to use GPT-2 to make new apps that are more complicated than just printing out large reams of text. To my delight, people have used them to made D&D games. First, there was Nick Walton’s AI Dungeon, in which a finetuned GPT-2 generates a story and three very strange action options at each step.

My latest obsession is GPT-2 Adventure, designed by a cognitive neuroscience student named Nathan, which lets you type in your own actions. And folks, this game is SO WEIRD and SO FUN.

YOU FLOAT IN SPACE, LIKE A BALLOON, AND AS YOU DROP THE CUBE, THE X, IT VANISHES IN A CLOUD OF GREASY BLACK SMOKE

When I first launch the game, this is what I’m greeted with, a simple text prompt reminiscent of nostalgic dungeon crawling games. It sets the scene. It waits for me to describe my next move.

Even getting to this point is like a blast from the past. The game runs in a Google Colab notebook, a format where you’re looking at cells of code, with cryptic comments, vaguely alarming warning messages, and all. It’s not a sleek web app, but feels more akin to playing a game on an old DOS machine, or maybe on a graphing calculator. There are only two clicks to begin playing, but there’s a good two-minute wait while the game loads.

And it’s my turn to type something.

>> look up

It takes several seconds for the game to respond, as if I’m playing it on a very ancient computer. The computer is in fact a state-of-the-art NVIDIA GPU, likely a K80 or a T4. The T4 could eat my laptop for lunch. I’m just playing with a very very large neural net. Finally it answers.

YOU'RE IN LABYRINTH OF TWISTY LITTLE PASSAGES, ALL ALIKE

Almost immediately, the context seems to have changed. I’m not floating at all. I’m in a maze. I guess I’ll walk somewhere.

>> walk north

THE TROLL STEPS OUT FROM BENEATH THE BRIDGE AND BLOCKS YOUR WAY

YOU ARE ON THE SOUTH SIDE OF THE CHASM

A NOD IS GIVEN TO THE INFINITE WONDER THAT IS URBZIG

A SOLID RAINBOW SPANS THE CHASM

And suddenly things are happening. There is a troll. There is a chasm. There is a rainbow. There is… Urbzig? I play it safe.

>> praise urbzig

URBZIG IS THE PATRON SAINT OF ZORK

HE IS THE GODFATHER OF ZORK, THE PLACE TO GET NEWS OF EPIC PROPORTIONS

URBZIG IS A STRONGMAN,遊 ALL

If you’ve played classic dungeon crawling games like Zork, you may recognize some of these names and phrases. Checking Nathan’s original post, I see that the training data is indeed drawn from these games. But because it’s based on GPT-2, the training data also in some sense also includes much of the internet. This gives it a lot of latent flexibility to deal with situations that were never in the classic games.

>> ask Harry Potter to try walking across the rainbow

ASK HARRY POTTER TO TRY WALKING ACROSS THE RAINBOW HE CAN'T THE RAINBOW IS EXTREMELY WIDE ABOVE YOU IS A LARGE DOME UP AROUND ITS NECK IS A STRONGG PORE [UNFORTUNATELY, THE DIRECTION OF TRAVEL IS A LOT MORE INTERESTING THAN YOU THINK ][YOU ARE IN A LARGE ROOM, WITH A PASSAGE TO THE EAST, A PASSAGE TO THE WEST, AND A WALL OF BROKEN ROCK TO THE SOUTH

An interesting effect of its human-written training data is that, like Visual Chatbot, it isn’t prepared for humans that ask questions about objects that aren’t there. If I refer to Harry Potter, then Harry Potter must be present. If I type something about a giraffe, then it assumes the giraffe must be present.

>> ask the giraffe which direction to go next

THE GIRAFFE IS ALREADY OUTFITTED WITH A VISOR WHICH IS CLEARLY DEFINED

Although it’s not clear that this AI actually understands what a giraffe is.

>> look at the giraffes

THE GAZEBO HAS DISAPPEARED

>> put giraffe in backpack

DONE

Navigating this world is like navigating in a dream. My location suddenly changes without warning. I thought I was by a chasm with a rainbow bridge. Now apparently I’m in a building. Dreamlike, it is also really hard to read text.

>> look around

YOU ARE IN A LARGE ROOM, WITH A PASSAGE TO THE SOUTH, A PASSAGE TO THE EAST, AND A WALL OF BROKEN ROCK TO THE NORTH A SIGN POSTED ABOVE THE NORTH WALL READS, "STOP! PAY TROLL!" A SMALL WINDOW CAN BE SEEN IN EITHER WALL

>> read sign

THE SIGN IS VERY SIMPLE

>> yes but read sign

WE NOW HAVE ALL FIFTEEN TREASURES IT IS TIME TO GO BACK INTO THE CAVE FOR THE END GAME

>> that's awesome. but i still want to know what the sign says. read sign.

YOU ARE IN A GAZEBO ROOM WHICH HAS DOORS ONLY TO THE EAST AND SOUTH

Another thing that’s surprisingly difficult to do is check inventory.

>> check inventory

DONE

>> check inventory

THERE IS AN INTERESTING LOOT HERE

>> what is the loot

WHAT IS THE LOOT?

>> check inventory

YOU ARE IN THE BAG CASE

Very occasionally I will succeed in opening a bag. It will usually be weird.

>> open bag

OPENING THE BAG REVEALS A TEA BAG

>> make tea

AY! A LOVELY SURPRISE FOR THE SURPRISE

More so than any other game I’ve played, I’m unsure of the rules here. Some weird things unexpectedly work.

IF YOU DON'T GET KILLED, YOU ARE TOAST

>> Eat the toast.

EAT THE TOAST IT TASTES LIKE A STEAK A STEAK IS PERFECTLY FINE

Other seemingly obvious things don’t work.

THERE IS A PATH TO THE NORTH, A PATH TO THE SOUTH, OR A STEEP PATHWAY CLIMBING SOUTHWEST ALONG THE EDGE OF A CHASM

>> go north

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO THAT

>> go south

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO THAT

>> go southwest

YOU WILL BE DESCENDING INTO A VALLEY THERE IS A NARROW BEACH TO THE NORTH AND A PATH LEADING INTO A CANYON TO THE SOUTHEAST YOU ARE ON THE CLIFF OVERLOOKING THE FAR SIDE OF THE ROOM A PATH LEADS SOUTH ALONG THE EDGE OF A CHASM, AND A NARROW PATH LEADING INTO A LOZENGE ROOM

Sometimes I’m wandering endlessly from room to room, from cave to cave, encountering the same chasm in slightly different variations, the same dried-up lake. Other times I’m embroiled in seemingly unescapable fights, usually with trolls. Often reality shifts entirely around me and I end up in a maze of twisty little passages, all alike, or in the hall of the mountain king. Everything seems weirdly familiar - even the room descriptions are echoes of classic dungeon crawling games. It is as if I’m dreaming about playing them again.

My actions also mold reality. I learn quickly to always check for diamonds, and never check for traps. If I find myself in trouble, I can always do something confusing and provoke a context change. Writing “In a large bowl, combine butter and sugars” is usually enough to teleport myself out of whatever situation I’m in. I can always ask a giraffe for advice, although the giraffe usually isn’t very helpful.

Without a particular mission to fulfill, the caves and chasms begin to blend into one another. I give myself missions, and that helps. Once I decide my goal is to put together a picnic (incessant “check for food” commands eventually yielded a sack with a lunch and a clove of garlic, belonging to a horse who agreed to join me on a picnic). Another time I demand a mission and am given some php code; i decide my mission is therefore to build a website, but am astounded when a unicorn steals my laptop. This is not the only time other content intrudes on the game’s fantasy landscape - once the game tries to tell me about finding cash online, and another time I am sadly informed that there is no wi-fi. I encounter dinosaurs and troikas, none of which were in the original training data. Occasionally things get creepy as hell.

>> check for loot

CHECK FOR LOOT HERE CHECK FOR GOLD HERE CHECK FOR TORCH HERE CHECK FOR BONE HERE DO CHEST COMPRESSIONS AGAIN DO CHEST ROTATE DO CRESCENT MOON APPEAR IN THE ROOM'S CENTER

>> do back away slowly

DO BACK AWAY SLOWLY DO NOT OVERDO IT THE CHEST WILL EXPLODE AND YOU WILL DIE OKAY, SO YOU SEE ME

You can play the game too! Just follow the colab notebook link in Nathan’s blog post. Tips: 1) It may be more fun if you set yourself an arbitrary goal to reach. 2) If you find things getting repetitive, try adjusting the temperature in the “Play the game” cell to 0.6 or 1.0.

Subscribers get bonus content: The fulltext of a couple of my adventures (much too long to include here).

You can order my book You Look Like a Thing and I Love You! It’s out November 5 2019.

Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s

#neural networks #harry potter #gpt-2 #dungeons and dragons #d&d #gpt-2-simple #gpt-2-adventure

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friendofspidermannedleeds · 4 years

Text

Fictober - Day 27

Prompt #27: “give me that” Fandom: Spider-Man (MCU) Rating: G Warnings: None Characters: Roger Harrington, Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Betty Brant, Julius Dell. Words: 1801 Summary: Mr. Harrington listens to the four lost students’ conversation and begins piecing together clues about Peter’s strange behavior.

---

Roger is frozen in disbelief for a moment, staring at his student and her four-hundred-year-old weapon. But teacher mode quickly kicks back in.

“Give me that.” He grabs the mace out of her hand and lurches forward slightly at its unexpected weight. He ignores the twitch at Michelle’s lips as he rights himself, trying not to appear strained.

“Where are the other three?” He asks, scanning the area and hoping they’ll materialize.

Michelle shrugs. “I don’t know. I should text Ned.” She pulls out her phone and begins typing.

Roger frowns. “When did you get separated? How—and why, were you carrying a historical artifact?”

Michelle doesn’t look up from her phone. “We, um, we tried to run for cover to get away from the monster thing, and we hid in the Crown Jewels vault, thinking it was secure.”

“You took this from the crown jewels??”

She looks up. “Um, yeah? I needed to defend us from some drones. I’m sure ‘Her Majesty the Queen’ understands.”

He overlooks the apathetic snark that’s typical of Michelle, trying to get more information.

“Those drones were in the vault? Why do you think that is? They kinda appeared halfway through the commotion from what we could see.”

“From what you could—did you all watch the entire battle?” She looks a bit troubled.

“Sort of, we couldn’t see everything, and I’m not sure I’d call it a battle. It was all very confusing, but we saw that Mysterio flying around and another superhero that looked kinda like Spider-Man if his suit was black, but they kept going in and out of sight—are you alright, Michelle?”

She’d developed a look of concern during his recap. Now, brow furrowed, she’s typing furiously again. “I’m good. Ned, Betty and Flash are coming to meet us.” She looks back up. “Did you see any—was the battle…intense? Like could you see Mysterio and Spi—the superheroes, fighting the drones, or like… each other, or what?”

Roger figures Michelle’s bummed she missed a historic event—he knows she’s usually the first to analyze any conflict and likes to get her facts from the most unbiased source.

“We really couldn’t tell. But I assume superheroes wouldn’t fight each other…anyway, are the others okay?”

She points behind him and he turns to see Ned, Betty and Flash hurrying over to where they stand.

“Are you three alright?” He asks.

Ned and Betty nod as Flash, who’s still livestreaming, exclaims, “We almost DIED!”

Roger bring his free hand to his head, but after the ridiculous events of this entire trip he can’t say this information shakes him much. “Well, glad you didn’t.” He holds up the mace. “We need to return this artifact to its proper place, and then we can meet up with the group, they’re waiting for us.”

Michelle jumps at this. “I can take that back, I know where I’m going.”

“I’ll go with you!!” Ned exclaims, but Michelle shakes her head and widens her eyes, then jerks her head toward an oblivious Flash.

Roger can’t follow whatever silent language the kids are using. “I’d prefer we stay together, gang. Michelle, lead the way.”

The walk to the tower drags on longer than Roger would like, as Flash is in front of him and livestreaming the entire way. He’s spouting all kinds of insane information—Roger wonders how much of it is true, and how much is exaggerated.

“We were trapped in this vault with Spider-Man’s bodyguard—”

“No, no, that’s not—we don’t know who he was,” Ned interrupts, running from behind and pushing his way into Flash’s video. “Just some official-looking guy in a suit, said he wanted to protect us—”

“And he didn’t protect shit, the drones had lasers that cut through the vault, and they were obviously targeting us, probably because Spider-Man follows me, and we thought it was the end, you know? So we all share our deepest secrets, and this bodyguard guy says he’s in love with—HEY!” Ned has knocked Flash’s phone out of his hand. Whether or not it was purposeful or an accident, Roger’s not sure.

“What the hell, Leeds?? You know how much this phone costs?” Flash drops down to pick up the device.

“Sorry, it was an accident—”

“Like hell it was, c’mon, man, what’s your deal?”

“My deal is it was an accident, Flash—”

“Boys, boys!” Roger interrupts, and they cease arguing glumly. “Now I think we’ve all had a very stressful time on this trip, so let’s just calm down and get along for the rest of today, alright?”

They both nod shortly, Flash pocketing his phone and glaring at Ned as they approach the entrance of the Crown Jewels exhibit.

“I’ll just drop it off here,” Michelle says, and Roger nods, thinking it’s best they avoid talking to security about the situation. Would he insist they follow standard protocols under normal circumstances? Absolutely. But today has been anything but normal, so he hopes his lack of rule-following won’t serve as a bad example for the kids.

On their way back, with the four students in front and Roger carrying up the rear, Flash starts babbling about Spider-Man again. Roger listens with interest, confirming that the figure he saw with Mysterio was the New York superhero and wondering why he’d be in London, of all places.

“So Leeds, how d’you know Spider-Man’s bodyguard?”

Roger notices Ned’s flustered demeanor has returned. “I didn’t know him, I just—we don’t know who that guy was, Flash—”

“He said he worked for Spider-Man and he was there to rescue us, why are you being so weird about this??”

“I’m not, you’re the one who’s weirdly obsessed with Spider-Man—”

“It’s because of Parker, isn’t it? I bet he’s tight with Spider-Man and just doesn’t wanna share.”

Roger’s suddenly invested in the scene before him as if it was part of a teen drama. Ned and Michelle exchange wide-eyed looks, conversing in their silent language again; Flash is impatient; Betty is oblivious. She speaks next.

“I thought it was, like, already established that Peter doesn’t really know Spider-Man, just that he met him a few times through his internship.”

“That’s true,” Michelle jumps in as Ned’s head bobs up and down, “it’s not like they’re pals or anything.”

Flash scoffs. “Obviously Spider-Man’s not best friends with a loser like Parker, but the dickwad does have connections. He even promised he’d get me an autograph.”

Ned looks incredulous, Michelle looks surprised, and Betty looks jealous.

“Are you serious?? Do you think he could get me one, too? My little brother loves Spidey—”

“Newsflash for Flash,” Michelle interrupts, “Peter was messing with you. His connections aren’t that good.”

“And how would you know?” Flash turns on her. “Oh, that’s right, he’s madly in love with you.”

Michelle stiffens for a moment, Ned’s mouth gapes wide open, and Betty looks congratulatory.

“Wait, really MJ? Are you and Peter an item now?”

“How could they be,” Flash answers, “Parker disappeared yet again, missed watching his buddy Spider-Man fight while he’s with some German family members or whatever.”

Ned nods. “Right, Peter’s staying with family in Berlin—”

“Actually,” Roger finally interrupts the students’ dramatic dialogue, “his aunt contacted me a little earlier and said he’s going to join us here in London, once we’re at a hotel, while we wait to see when our flight is rescheduled.”

“He is?” Michelle asks more eagerly than Roger’s accustomed to.

“That’s the word.” He replies.

The kids carry on squabbling amongst themselves as they continue the trek back to the group, and Roger lets his thoughts wander again. Now that they’re all talking about it, this idea that Peter knows Spider-Man doesn’t seem as far-fetched as it once had. If the superhero’s bodyguard really did try to protect the kids from the drones, then that action begs the question—why? It can’t be that the hero follows Flash’s livestreams, as much as the attention-starved student may wish that were the case. But if Peter is friends with Spider-Man because of his internship, then his desire to protect the kids might be understandable.

That explanation still leaves Roger with a million questions. He still doesn’t understand why Peter just can’t seem to turn in his homework on time even though he’s the smartest in the class, why he’s acted so strangely and recklessly on the tour bus, and why his constant disappearances have continued into this transatlantic trip. Peter being friends with Spider-Man can’t explain all of that.

What if…

Roger immediately throws out the insane possibility his mind is begging him to entertain. Peter’s a nice kid, but he’s a genius nerd, not a superhero.

He tunes back into the kids’ conversation as Flash’s voice is questioning loudly.

“Where’d you get that mess of a necklace, Michelle? You weren’t wearing it earlier.”

“From the guy who works for Spider-Man,” Betty answered, “right MJ? That’s what was in the tin he gave you in the vault?”

“Ew, what? That old guy is gifting you jewelry?” Flash scrunches his face. “That’s gross, plus Parker’s gonna be mad jealous—”

“No he won’t, because the necklace is from Peter!” Ned blurts out, then shrinks back at a piercing glare from Michelle.

Roger can hardly believe what he’s hearing.

The man they keep talking about, Spider-Man’s bodyguard, gave Michelle a necklace from Peter. The kid’s aunt says he’s in Berlin and will be returning to London just because she wants him home. Peter was missing during the battle with the fire monster in Prague. Spider-Man, New York’s hero, is in London.

Roger could spin the information however he chose, but the most obvious explanation is this—Peter Parker, junior, is Spider-Man.

Oh, help.

The small group finally reaches the rest of the class. The kids begin sharing what went down from their different vantage points, and Julius greets him with an update.

“The tour company called and said we have a hotel for the night, I booked the rooms for twelve—”

“Make that thirteen, Peter’s coming back from Berlin.”

“He’s what?” Julius looks confused. “I don’t understand that kid, Roger. You know, maybe Brad was right, there is something shady going on with him.”

“I’ve learned not to question him. He’s a troubled boy, Julius. He’s been this way ever since his uncle died. We can’t bring attention to his anxious behaviors—he’s an orphan, his life is tragic enough as it is.”

Julius nods. “Okay. Okay. I get it, I get that.” And he leaves it alone.

Roger breathes a sigh of relief. He’s just taken his first step into a new role he’d never prepared for in all his years of training to be an educator—a superhero student’s secret-keeper.

Oh, help.

#fictober20 #roger harrington #flash thompson #michelle jones #ned leeds #betty brant #my fic #fos fic #fanfiction #this is such a mess #i allowed myself one long and unedited fic for fictober #and it's this two-parter #more for my own enjoyment than anyone else's #that would be why it's a mess lol

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nobody-wants-ice-cream · 4 years

Text

Everything Wrong With The Umbrella Academy. Episode 3, Extra Ordinary.

We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals

Run Boy Run

Usual disclaimer: This is all in good fun! I wanted to do a really nitpicky re-watch of the series and found some really cool and interesting things I didn’t notice before. This is meant to have a Cinema Sins-esque tone. However, I did take off a lot more sins than Cinema Sins would have because I do genuinely like the series and the people that made it possible. So all of the good things got one sin off and all the bad things got one sin added. This is a really long post, so grab some popcorn. If there’s anything that I missed, feel free to add it!

Vanya was clearly about to sell her violin. She looked dejected and sad and was detached from her violin case. This is in character for Vanya on her pills, who must have decided that she wasn’t good enough at one point. Sin for putting Vanya through trauma. +1

The Umbrella Academy comics are priced weirdly. The one on the right is $25.00 and the one on the left is $15.00. What makes the one on the right more expensive? It even says on the cover that the one on the right was supposed to be $0.50. So why the inflation? Taking a closer look, all six heroes are on the cover, so it’s not that either of them are pre-Five leaving and therefore more expensive because Five is on both of them. Though, the one on the right does have a picture of Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Ben, and Reginald under where it says that the comic is 50 cents. To make a long rant short, the comics that Vanya looks at in the pawn shop window are confusing. +1

However, Gabriel Ba’s art. -1

The strange lack of technology means that Vanya’s book was written on a typewriter. +1

Vanya needed 6 pencils to write her book with. These are maybe supposed to symbolize Vanya’s 6 siblings, in which case, interesting detail, but still. Six pencils. As opposed to one pencil and a pencil sharpener? Why all the tools Vanya? +1

The six pencils (with two pointer up) symbolize Vanya’s six siblings, two of which turned around since the siblings they are supposed to represent (Five and Ben) are no longer around. -1

Vanya’s dying houseplant. Water that! +1

Vanya collects another houseplant and it looks relatively healthy. -1

The messy table garbage still has the same plate and same crumpled papers/napkins in the same position. Either Vanya was super lazy, or the set designer/director was. +1

Vanya replaced the dying houseplant with the fresh one. Poor houseplant. I will mourn you. +1

“Lost Woman” has some really on the nose lyrics. Playing the phrase “lonely woman” before Vanya starts narrating her book is ridiculously on the nose. +1

However, “Lost Woman” happens to be one of my favorite tracks from the series. -1

Luther should be part ape in this scene, (as it takes place five years ago, not seven), but he looks completely normal. This is a massive continuity error so I’m adding two sins. +2

“Starved for attention” is the line Vanya narrates over Allison reading it. On. The. Nose. +1

Diego is so pissed off at Vanya that he tapes her likeness to a punching bag and punches it. You know, like a rational adult. +1

Klaus is wearing birkenstocks and burgundy capris. +1

Also, Ben and Klaus work together to read a book. -1

But I have to ask, why did the rehab let Klaus read during group therapy. And shush his dead brother’s ghost. +1

Ben is pissed off by the line “and haunted by what might have been.” On the nose. +1

Five reads the harsh line “we all wanted to be loved by a man incapable of giving love” while next to Dolores, who is also incapable of giving love because she is a mannequin. Also, Five reads this book, full of vitriol and hate, as the last connection he has to his siblings, at age thirteen. +2

Reginald doesn’t read the book that his daughter wrote. As usual, Reggie is a dick to Vanya. +1

Vanya’s reaction to being late to rehearsal is so relatable. I swear I have done this a thousand times as a musician. -1

The Netflix captions (yes I watch with captions) say “Chamber music playing”. They have a conductor. +1

The conductor has the character of all conductors. Dick. +1

Vanya isn’t vibrating when the rest of the orchestra is. Late or not, you still need to follow the concertmaster, Vanya. +1

The rainy weather matching Vanya’s stormy mood. Foreshadowing. -1

Badass umbrella title screen. -1

However, why are all those people stopping in the street? It’s raining, get to where you’re going! +1

Allison and Luther watch the tape where Reggie dies over and over. This is weird, even if they are trying to figure out if Grace killed him. Who would want to watch someone die over and over? Not even I want to replay Reggie dying, and I genuinely hate him. +1

Luther says that Reggie thought people were out to get him. On the first watch, the audience can chalk this up to Reggie being a paranoid old man, however on the second watch we know that the Commission exists and that Reggie is probably not from this world. So either of those groups could have been out to get him. But who? This remains a sin until they explain it. +1

Training posters in the kitchen. The kitchen! Really, Reggie. +1

There’s this weird caterpillar thing with a face behind Grace in this scene. What the hell is that? +1

There was also a radio in the kitchen, which implies that Reggie either let them listen to tunes, or had training cassettes the same way he had training records. Either way, what the hell, Reggie? +1

There is a ridiculous amount of light sources in this one room. +1

Grace has a cactus full of toothpicks or skewers by the stove. Cute art project, whichever kid but likely Diego based on his fascination with pointy things. -1

The “your father was a great man” speech. Poor Grace. +1

Jordan Clare Robbins is an excellent actress. -1

Smiley face made of two eggs and a strip of bacon. -1

Diego doesn’t understand the chain of custody regarding evidence. Patch says that if he touches a piece of evidence, she can’t use it in her case. How many murderers have walked free because of Diego? +1

Hazel and Cha Cha use bullets from 1963. Dallas foreshadowing? Remains a sin until season two confirms the Dallas plot. +1

These bullets were found on the random local hires Five killed at Griddy’s. Why does the Commission use bullets from the early 60’s? Isn’t that a big red flag to their time organization? +1

Patch indulges Diego the Vigilante by asking for his help. You’re a police officer, you got this, Patch. Also, this foreshadows her death when she does things his way and gets killed for it. +1

Diego tells Patch to investigate Five. Oh, the irony. +1

“I do give a shit” is such a weird line to try to portray as romantic with the music, tone, and lighting, show. +1

Beeman, unprofessionally, brings up the fact that Patch and Diego used to date while at a crime scene. +1

Vanya washes her hands for two seconds and then goes to talk to Helen. Almost like that was the real reason why she was in there. +1

Vanya attempts to compliment Helen Cho, who is overall, not interested. Is this Vanya’s repressed way of flirting? Pick a better time.+1

Seriously, what is with Vanya and starting conversations at the absolute worst time. It’s like she wants to get insulted. +1

No way in hell would one professional musician to another be this bitchy, Helen Cho. +1

Helen straight up calls Vanya talentless. What an awful thing to say! +1

She softens, as if she just gave Vanya legitimate career advice, but she didn’t. She really just insulted the time and effort Vanya put into her instrument. As a musician, I can confirm that what Helen just said is the equivalent of saying something really, really nasty. Tumblr hate anons have nothing on what Helen just said. +3

Vanya takes a pill after being called talentless. Pill foreshadowing. -1

Cha Cha uses a curling iron to cauterise the wound Five gave her from the shovel. Where did the curling iron come from? +1

“The entire fate of the universe” oh Hazel. Thanks for the irony. +1

How did no one in the history of this shady motel notice the hidden panel? You would think at least one person attempting to have shower sex or someone cleaning or someone doing matinence should have noticed that, right? +1

Five stitches up his wound by himself despite the fact that multiple people are in the house that are capable. He’s going to pull a few of those based on the angle. Also, Five didn’t bother to clean the blood off his arm, so who knows if he bothered to sterilize the needle or his hands or anything. +1

The wound on Cha Cha and the wound on Five are eerily similar. However, what makes them interesting is that Cha Cha decided to cauterize where Five decided to stitch. Both are decent methods, but Cha Cha’s way is going to leave severe permanent scarring and Five’s way might heal. This could foreshadow the way they treat the end of the world. Cha Cha wants to end it, Five wants to fix it. Maybe not Cha Cha herself, but she does represent the Commission and their ideals. She is a stickler for their rules and uses her last moments to try to call them and get rescued. Point is. This is an English teacher moment full of symbolism, and I respect the show for this choice. -1

Billy the Choo Choo bandages. First of all, Five can never get away from the childishness of his current form. Second of all, Reggie let Five have “Billy the Choo Choo” licenced bandages??? +1

Or, Five chose to buy/steal these bandages. +1

Five puts a clean, white uniform shirt over blood that he still hasn’t cleaned up. At this point, that has got to be uncomfortably sticky. +1

Five didn’t bother to clean his wound until morning. “I guess I’ll go to sleep and bleed”???+1

Or, it took Five several hours to get the supplies. Bullshit. No way in hell did Reggie not have those supplies lying around. +1

Five still chooses to wear the full uniform ensemble even though he could at the very least get rid of the tie. +1

The teleporting kid gets the fire escape bedroom. It’s like Reggie was begging Five to sneak out of the house. +1

Dumpster Bagel: Do Not Eat. +1

“I’m done funding your drug habit” you never did in the first place? You didn’t pay him at all for that magnificent acting?? Unless Five did this before he left the mansion, in which case, Five funded Klaus’s drug habit. +1

Justin Min looks so incredibly creepy sitting on the dumpster. He has such a blank expression. Also, when did he move from the fire escape? +1

“I love you. Even if you can’t love yourself!” is a great line. -1

When Five drives away in the stolen van, he passes an absolutely bewildered guy. How the hell did Five function as an assassin? He can’t do subtlety. This contradicts “I know how to do everything”. +1

Was Aidan Gallagher actually driving in this scene? Because it kind of looks like the way a beginner would drive. This also contradicts “I know how to do everything” +1

There’s a lady passing Meritech that actually chose to wear a baby pink fedora. M’costume. +1

Five left his wife stuck in a bag and didn’t remember her. +1

He also left a bottle of some clear liquor on top of her. +1

“This is the place that it was made. Or will be made.” The delivery on this line was kinda bad. +1

Allison used her power on Claire. Claire was three years old. No matter which way you slice it, this is the shittiest thing Allison has ever done. She’s working on it, but the fact that it happened deserves a sin. +1

Emmy Raver-Lampman is a kick ass actress. -1

Allison has the most warranted case of impostor syndrome ever. Sin off because this is the one of the few scenes where two characters actually talk about their emotions. -1

Luther and Allison had that conversation sitting ridiculously far apart. +1

Leonard’s shop is called “Imperial Woodwares” Apparently, he delivers as well. How did Leonard get the business and woodworking skills necessary for running a relatively successful shop while in prison? +1

Leonard somehow knows that Vanya’s orchestra (which rehearses and performs in the Icarus Theatre) is far from Bricktown. At this point, he shouldn’t know that unless that is the only orchestra in the entire city. There is no way that that is the only orchestra in the entire city. +1

Leonard took up wood carving in prison. Is that allowed? +1

If a guy you just met makes a wood carving in your likeness you should run. Run like hell. Get a restraining order. That is so creepy. Obvious villain is obvious. +1

Also, I once read a fanfic (The Moon Laughs by Lady_Origami on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/17959847/chapters/42417584) where a character is kidnaped by Leonard and tortured in this backroom where he’s showing Vanya the creepy statue. I can see where the inspiration came from. This back room has “place to keep the person I kidnaped and torture them” vibes.+1

Leonard stayed up all night to make the creepy woodcarving. He then insists that Vanya take it. And Vanya doesn’t recognize the creepy vibes. +1

And she does take it! +1

Leonard says that he made the carving for her and that she inspired him. Obvious manipulation is obvious. +1

Leonard is a dick to Vanya by using Allison’s successful career. +1

Leonard doesn’t like the Beatles. +1

Why did Allison go to Bricktown to find Vanya when that is nowhere near the theatre or Vanya’s apartment? Was she just wandering around hoping to find Vanya? +1

Allison is the Queen of actually talking out her thoughts and feelings. She just apologized to Vanya and explained why she was so angry in the last episode. Well done. I respect that. -1

Allison and Vanya sisterly bonding. -1

Five sees children playing and then immediately starts having an apocalypse flashback. This shows that Five lost his childhood as soon as he time traveled to the apocalypse. I’m sad now. +1

Aidan Gallagher plays this really well. -1

If you look closely, you can see Five/Aidan Gallagher laughing at Luther/Tom Hopper because he can’t fit in the van. I can’t tell if Five is laughing at Luther or if Aidan is laughing at Tom. Either way, that slaps. -1

However, corpsing. +1

No one has written Klaus/Dolores fanfic yet. They really hit it off in the van, y’all. +1

Five throws an empty can at Klaus for messing with Dolores. +1

Klaus’s expression after Five says “does it matter, it’s Klaus.” Sinning because Five is a dick to Klaus. +1

“Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to wax my ass with chocolate pudding. It was so painful.” I love this line. God bless Robert Sheehan. -1

Aidan Gallagher contemplates this line then starts corpsing. I don’t blame him. I’ve been trying to figure out how that would be possible too. -1

How can you use chocolate pudding to wax any hair? +1

Aidan Gallagher laughs at this line, meaning Five found this funny, but didn’t want to give Klaus the satisfaction of laughing. +1

Luther and Five are dicks to Klaus. They kicked him out of the van! Assholes. +1

Luther is sort of trying to connect with Five, but he fails miserably because it comes out really condescending. +1

“I don’t think that I’m better than you, Number One. I know I am.” Hubris much, Five? +1

Luther is already sick of Five’s “I’m better than you, I’ve done things you couldn’t comprehend” schtick and Five has only been back for three days. And we make fun of Luther’s moon thing. We get it, Five, you’re a badass. Actions speak louder than words, old man. +1

On the side of the Variety Store Klaus steals from is a billboard for Clever Crisp Cereal, which is the cereal that Reggie invented in the comics. I guess he did that here too. -1

Also, Klaus steals from the Variety Store and drops everything while running away. Why did you steal so much shit if you knew you were going to drop it all Klaus? +1

Ben’s reaction to this buffoonery must have been hilarious. Sinning the show for not showing us that. +1

“Now I’m starting to wonder if that was the wisest decision.” What? Kicking Klaus out of the van or Klaus deciding to rob the store? Because both were pretty stupid. +1

Does Agnes own Griddy’s? +1

Agnes just gave some valuable baking tips when it comes to doughnuts. Thanks, Agnes. -1

Agnes and Hazel are really cute together. -1

The Hazel and Agnes theme is my favorite instrumental piece from the whole show. -1

There are still bullet holes in the walls. Attention to detail! -1

Hazel and Cha Cha pretend to be social workers or private detectives concerned for Five’s well being. Oh, the irony. +1

“I mean who lets a kid get a tattoo” Reginald Hargreeves. That’s who. +12

Agnes is indignant about Five’s tattoo, citing his age. This whole episode has a ridiculous amount of irony. +1

Agnes draws the umbrella tattoo a bit too perfectly for someone who only saw it once and at the wrong angle. +1

Diego straight up threatens Luther at knifepoint. +1

This family meeting is a complete shitshow. +1

The monocle is likely to become a s2 plotpoint because Diego put it in a place where anyone could take it. If you’ve read the comics, you know why I think that’s important, but I won’t spoil it for anyone who hasn’t. Either way, that was a dumb way to dispose of the monocle, Diego. +1

Diego is a dick to Vanya until she agrees with him. +1

They are legitimately talking about killing their mother. What the fuck. +1

Klaus references the van when only Luther, Five, and presumably Ben know about it. This makes no sense. +1

Votes to kill Mom: Luther, Allison, Ben +3

Klaus hisses at Ben and no one thinks this is weird. +1

Grace definitely heard Luther and Allison voting to kill her. After she made them breakfast too! Luther and Allison are dicks in this scene. (And so is Ben but Grace couldn’t hear him.) +2

Grace tries to prove her worth by making cookies. Fuck Luther, Allison, and Ben for voting to turn her off. +3

Diego and Vanya actually have a civil conversation. Well done for doing the bare minimum, Diego? -1

Vanya’s pills suggest that she was friendlier with Diego at some point. +1

Pogo for sure saw that whole thing and he saw Vanya take the pills. Dr. Complicit. +1

Reginald is a total soccer mom in Diego’s flashback scenes. This amuses me. -1

However, Reginald raised six child soldiers as “crime deterrents” so +6

Luther is casually working out in his bedroom while the mission alarm is going off. +1

“Where’s my knives” was a phrase Diego practiced. Also, Diego would never lose his knives. +1

Vanya’s room is a fucking closet. +1

“Thank you, Mother” Dante Albidone is a treasure. -1

“Boys will be boys” this is the only time that phrase is acceptable. When you’re putting out a fire your son caused for no reason. -1

“You did it! I’m so proud of you!” -1

Reginald interrupts this. +2

Diego’s flashbacks were very unorganized, which makes sense. This is probably several years worth of mission flashbacks. -1

“It’s okay if you hated him” “I would understand if you wanted to hurt him”-2

David Castaneda and Jordan Claire Robbins nailed this scene. Two kick ass actors being incredible. -1

Did Five really sit there all day with no breaks? +1

Five is arguing with Dolores and losing. She is a manifestation of his subconscious. And she is winning this argument. +1

Aidan Gallagher looked directly into the camera. We made eye contact. It was weird. +1

Lance straight up sells those illegal prosthetics where anyone could see it. Lance is an idiot. +1

Agnes’s drawing led Hazel and Cha Cha to the Academy. +1

Cha Cha left the window down in the car. +1

Would that air thing actually work? If it wouldn’t then sin on Reggie for getting cheap locks. If it would, sin on me for not getting better locks sooner. +1

Hazel and Cha Cha don’t have their masks on. What if somebody saw them? +1

The portrait of Five comes back to bite the Academy in the ass. Why haven’t they gotten rid of it? Five has been back for three days. +1

Klaus has black nail polish on his toes. -1

No way in hell is Klaus able to have his eyes open in a soapy bathtub. +1

The ghosts are creepy. Sin because Klaus is traumatized. +1

“We’re Through” by the Hollies is one of my favorite songs to play on guitar. It’s a decent coffee shop piece and I like playing it live. Thank you show, for helping me discover it. -1

Klaus is taking a bath with the door open. +1

Luther has been eating his Wheaties, Cha Cha. If you call experimental ape drugs, Wheaties. +1

Luther describing sunrise on the moon. I like this bit of writing. -1

Where were Hazel and Cha Cha keeping their guns and masks? Special pockets? +1

Diego is the only person who could possibly bring knives to a gun fight and win. Diego is a badass. -1

Hazel and Cha Cha continue to have stormtrooper aim. There are so many times when either could have shot Diego, but magically miss because Diego has plot armor. +1

Reginald’s portrait gets shot though. Right in some lethal areas. This amuses me. -1

Grace is so out of it she doesn’t notice heavy gunfire. Reggie, you suck. +1

“Who the hell are these guys?”/”Who the hell are these people?” +1

Diego, Luther and Allison just saved your ass. Less arguing, more fighting the crazy people. +1

Reggie keeps convenient weapons everywhere like they’re lamps. +1

Vanya is still in the Academy hours after the meeting, and she doesn’t think to hide during all this crazy gunfire and fighting. Sigh. +1

Seriously, it’s like she’s trying to get killed. +1

But she doesn’t because she has plot armor. +1

“Hey, asshole” goes back to Five’s “hey, assholes” from episode one. So did Luther learn that from Five, did Five learn that from Luther, or did Reggie decide that that was an acceptable phrase to teach his children? I lowkey want to write all three in a crackfic. Nice. -1

Vanya probably has a concussion. Otherwise, she would have attempted to run, right? Please tell me she isn’t that stupid. +1

You know that b99 meme where shit is going down and Gina is just chilling with her headphones. Yeah. That. Klaus, get some situational awareness, please. Also, what are these magic noise cancelling headphones that can block out the sound of gunfire and where can I buy them? +1

Allison, I understand why you don’t want to rumor anyone, but your life is literally in danger. I think you can forgive yourself if you rumor Hazel and Cha Cha into not killing you and your family. +1

“You wanna rumor this psycho?” “I don’t need to because this bitch just pissed me off” These are both horrible lines. I can’t tell if it’s because of the writers or because of the actors, but both of these lines are genuinely terrible. +1

“We just want the boy”. Nice comics reference, Cha Cha. -1

Diego doesn’t attempt to fight Cha Cha and give Allison the upper hand. He just sort of stands there. What the hell, Diego? +1

And when he does fight her, he doesn’t use any long range weapons. Diego, this is your house. I’m assuming you know where the knife drawer is? +1

Ben attempts to give Klaus privacy. In this situation. That’s a sin. I would risk seeing my brother’s naked body if it meant he wouldn’t be shot. Just sayin’, Ben. Get all up in his face. Put your ghost hands through his head. Get his attention! +1

Luther and Hazel can go hand to hand as equals and the show never addresses why. +1

Vanya really is that stupid. There are plenty of doors. And the fire escape from Five’s room. Vanya, run!+1

Luther had plenty of time to get out of the way of the chandaller. Why didn’t he shove his siblings and follow one of them? The motion would have made sense. +1

This ape reveal makes no sense. It would have worked in episode one, but it’s weird in episode 3. Why didn’t they reveal this to the audience earlier? +1

The dinosaur footprint sound effect. +1

Why didn’t Vanya and Allison hear Grace humming? Also, why didn’t anyone hear Hazel and Cha Cha breaking in. It was established in episode one that there is no soundproofing. +1

Grace is cross stitching the moon exploding. Foreshadowing. -1

She is pulling the needle through her own hand though. +1

Who gave Grace that nice bracelet? That’s so adorable. -1

Diego killed his own mother. +1

However, it is a mercy kill. Who knows what Luther or Allison would have done to her if they had found out how screwed up Grace was. I’m really conflicted about this scene. On one hand, fridging, on the other, it makes sense. Therefore, it’s a wash. -1

What is this magic cloth that Allison gives Vanya to mop up the blood and where can I get it? Seriously, it cleans up blood ridiculously well. To the point where it doesn’t look like Vanya’s been injured. +1

Diego takes out his anger/sadness/frustration on Vanya. Also, Diego would be excellent at cinema sins. Vanya could have been killed and she was stupid to stay, but there is no reason to raise your voice at her like that, Diego. +1

“She is a liability”. And you are an asshole. Diego just said that line to Allison as if Vanya wasn’t even there. As if she was just some inanimate burden. Fuck Diego for this line. +1

Allison doesn’t even attempt to defend Vanya. Even if Diego made a good point, there is no reason to let him get away with that kind of emotional abuse. +1

The show kind of addresses Luther’s body image issues, but doesn’t let him talk about it. +1

When did Vanya get Leonard’s address? +1

“I didn’t know where else to go”. Home perhaps? To your apartment? And not into the arms of creepy Leonard? +1

Hazel and Cha Cha didn’t discuss what to do if shit went sideways. No wonder Five was better than them. +1

When would Hazel have kidnaped Klaus? We don’t see it happen so we should just assume that Klaus appeared there magically? +1

Hazel and Cha Cha have FRC 891 as a licence plate. Neverending Chaos. Google FRC 891 Umbrella Academy. -1

Overall Review:

I forgot just how important episode three really is. Here we learn just how harmful Vanya’s book was, that Vanya is in an orchestra, and more about Leonard. This episode carves out who Vanya is as a character before Leonard sinks his claws into her. We can see the effects of the pills on her ability to connect with others and her ability to play the violin.

We also get a lot from the other characters. The Claire reveal is a big one for Allison. So is the ape reveal for Luther, even if it should have happened two episodes ago.

As for acting shout outs, Emmy Raver-Lampman and Jordan Claire Robbins killed it in this episode. I can’t wait to see more of Emmy in s2 and I really hope that Jordan will return.

There was some excellent use of irony in this episode. Like a lot of irony. What killed me was the Griddy’s scene. Hazel and Cha Cha pretending to care about Five’s well being so they can murder him and Agnes being indignant about someone as young as Five getting a tattoo is just amazing.

As for plot things, this was really a Vanya-centric episode. It establishes a lot of things about her, which makes the twist at the end even more obvious. This is not my first, second, or even third rewatch, so I know what’s coming, but how did I not see it before? When I first watched it I thought that Five was the main character and that Vanya was a self-insert. Looking back, I can see that Five and Vanya had pretty equal backstory and screen time given to them. You could make the argument that they are the main characters. You could even argue that they’re the primary protagonist and antagonist, but to be frank, that discussion should be saved for episode 10.

Total: 133

Sentence: Eating a dumpster bagel.

#The Umbrella Academy #all in good fun #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #Allison Hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #Grace Hargreeves #leonard peabody #hazel and cha cha

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sad-boy-mono · 4 years

Text

High School Casualties

Chapter 3/?

Word Count- 1,719

Master Post with Ao3 link

After Shayne quickly re-filled his water bottle at a water fountain outside the bathroom, the two boys made their way to the nurses office. Shayne glancing to Damien every so often to make sure he wouldn’t pass out again.

“So, how’re you feeling?” Shayne asked not to long into their walk.

“Kinda better, I don’t think I’m gonna take another spill just yet.”

Ok good. I mean he looks fine. Well not exactly fine. I don’t think he’s looked fine all day, but getting shit sleep will do that to you.

“Well I guess I do look kinda rough but damn dude!” Damien exclaimed with faux offense. “I mean you’re not wrong, but damn!”

Shayne’s face contorted into a look of shock and confusion. “W-what are you talking about?”

“Did you not just speak?” Damien laughed, thinking that Shayne was messing with him.

“No... I didn’t...” Shayne stuttered, shaking his head no.

“Strange, I could’ve sworn you said something!” Damien insisted.

“But I didn’t. At least not aloud.�� Shayne said, mumbling his last sentence.

“What was that last part? You kinda trailed off at the end.”

“What? Oh nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Ok then...”

They two continued their walk in silence. Shayne glancing at Damien now with confusion added to the concern.

Can Damien read minds? No, no I’m just thinking to much into this. You probably just said it aloud without realizing it. But wait didn’t something like this happen earlier? It happened a few times- No, Shayne chill the fuck out. It’s all in your head. You probably said it out loud and didn’t realize it. Maybe you need to get more sleep too.

How did I- I could’ve sworn I heard him say something! Heh, maybe those jokes about me being psychic are true! HAH if only. That would be cool. Being psychic. But how did I hear Shayne! He’s messing with me, he HAS to be! Shayne is one hell of an actor after all so that could’ve be-

“-amien we’re here.” Shayne said, causing Damien to jump. “Woah, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you there.” Shayne chuckled.

“Naha it’s fine,” Damien laughed along. “Let’s head in.”

Shayne opened up the door for his friend, giving an exaggerated bow as he did so. Damien snorted and bowed back at his friend before walking in.

“Sorry, I’ll be with you in one second kiddos!” exclaimed a voice coming from behind the large desk on the other side of the room. “A picture frame fell of my desk and broke so I gotta clean up the glass real quick.”

“Ok yeah, no problem.” Damien called back with a thumbs up.

“She can’t see the thumbs up, I don’t know why I did that.” Damien mumbled just loud enough that Shayne could hear, making him let out a wheezy laugh.

“You’re so stupid.” Shayne whispered through his laugh.

“Alright boys, sorry about that.” The nurse said coming out from behind the desk. “What can I do for you?”

“Uh yeah, my friend here-” Shayne pointed over to a now very anxious looking Damien, “-hasn’t really been feeling well today. He almost passed out in the halls.”

“Oh dear! Well, why don’t you- what’s your name hun?” The woman asked sweetly.

“Oh um, Damien.” Damien answered, fidgeting with the cuff of his hoodie.

“Alright Damien, why don’t you go lay down in that room right down there.”She pointed to a small hallway with 6 rooms, 3 on each side. “First door on your right, no way you can miss it!”

Damien mumbled a quick thanks to her as he slowly made his way to the room, glancing at Shayne before he went in.

“Ok and now for you...”

“Shayne.”

“Ok and now for you Shayne, let’s get you a hall pass written up so your teacher will know you weren’t skipping class.” The nurse dug through her desk and pulled out a small slip of yellow paper. “Which teacher do you have next?”

“Mr. Moss for PE.”

“Oh well please tell him I say hi! David such a nice guy. He’s so fun. Oh but I’m rambling-” She handed Shayne the hall pass, “-here you go hun, have a nice day!”

“Thanks, you too.” Shayne took the slip and walked out of the room with a wave.

===

Damien had taken one more glance at Shayne before he walked into the room.

He never really like going to the nurse. It just made him uneasy. He never had a bad experience really, other than dealing with a rude nurse that obviously hated children and teenagers despite the fact that they chose to work with children and teenagers. But he had no real reason other than that.

Damien sat down on the bright red-orange sofa-like bed in the room. It wasn’t very comfortable and your skin would stick to it when it was hot. And it made a deep groan anytime there was any sort of movement, but it beats laying on a shitty cot.

He looked around the beige room. It had what you’d expect there to be in a nurses office plus some more stuff. Some basic first aid kits on the wall, a desk, a sink with a stack of small paper cups next to it, and a small freezer for ice packs. Then there were cupboards that lined the wall that were littered with photos of children and drawings made most likely by said children. It put his mind at ease, no one would have a child if they hated children.

“Alright dear-” Damien, once deep in though, jumped at the nurses sudden appearance, “-ope sorry dear didn’t mean to scare ya! Probably should’ve knocked first.” The nurse laughed sitting down at the desk.

“Oh i-it’s fine.” Damien said through a forced chuckle.

“Alright but anyways, what seems to be the problem dear?” The nurse pulled out a piece of paper along with a pen from the desk. “Your friends told me that you almost fainted? Do you know what might of caused that?”

“Um well, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night so I’ve been pretty tired all day.” Damien rambled, fidgeting with the, weirdly sharp, corner of the bed.

“Hmm, ok anything else that you can think of?” The nurse asked, standing up to grab smomething from the cupboard.

“I didn’t have time to eat breakfast this morning, was in a bit of a rush.” The nurse nodded, and grabbed another thing from the cupboard.

“Alright, Damien I’m just gonna take your temp real quick. It’s just gonna roll over your forehead. It’s cleaner that way.” she took the thermometer and had the ball at the end roll across Damien’s forehead, exactly like she said.

The nurse took a close look at the screen before writing something down on the paper she grabbed.

“Alright Damien, you don’t seem to have any sort of fever. So if you want you can rest hear until your next class and we can see how you feel then, or I can call one of your parents to come pick you up now if you think that’s gonna be a better option.”

Damien spent a few moment debating his options.

Going home would be nice, but mom and dad are at work. Well she could just call up my sister instead. But if you go home, then you’d have worked on you essay all night for nothing! Ugh ok

“I’ll just stay here and rest for a bit.” Damien concluded.

“Ok that totally works! In the mean time you have these,” she said and handed Damien a few packets of crackers, “and if you need to there’s cups for water by the sink, you can go ahead and grab some if you need it! I’ll just email your teacher, let them know where you are and you can rest up a bit!” The nurse grabbed the piece of paper on her desk and began to walk out of the room before quickly coming to a stop.

“Shoot, I should probably get the name of your teacher shouldn’t I? Who’s your teacher for this period?”

“Oh uh Mr. Ovenshire for physical science.”

“All righty, and what’s your last name hun?”

“Haas, H-A-A-S.”

“Ok perfect, have a nice rest kiddo!” The nurse said, closing the door so it was only open a crack.

Damien laid down onto the bed to face the wall. He opened on of the packets of crackers and ate them.

Well that didn’t go so bad! You got some crackers, there’s water and you get to sleep. I should tell Shayne I’m not dead. Damien though to himself, grabbing his phone from his pocket.

Damien

Not dead gonna nap :) See you at lunch probably

Damien slid his phone back into his pocket and closed his eyes. Within seconds, he fell asleep.

===

How?

How did that happen?

Oh god what did I do?

FUCK

I didn’t think that would happen!

How the fuck did that happen?!

Oh god is he bleeding?

He was so far away from the wall!

How did he-

I didn’t even throw the ball that hard!

Oh god he’s gonna hate me.

Everyone’s gonna hate me!

But it was an accident!

I SWEAR

FUCK

HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!

===

The sound of the bell yanked Damien from his, somewhat peaceful, sleep.

Was that a dream? That felt to real to be a dream. And who was speaking? It sounded like Shayne? Damien thought to himself, before being interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Hey hun, just checking in on ya. How are you feeling?” The nurse asked, peeking her head in through the door.

“Much better actually, thanks.”

“Oh it’s just my job! If you’re feeling better, feel free to head to your next class and have a nice day!”

“Thanks, you too.” Damien said, grabbing his bag off the floor and walked out of the office, waving to the nurse when he walked out the door.

Gotta find Shayne. Shit no you should call him first.

Damien pulled his phone out of his pocket and ducked into the nearest bathroom as he dialed up Shayne’s number

“Come on, pick up baby boy.” Damien whispered impatiently as his phone rang, waiting for the other line to pick up.

===

A/N- Surprise! I got this out much quicker than expected! But y'all deserve it since chapter 2 took so long for me to get out! Also if you're thinking "Wow that nurse is really over the top," good cuz that's how I pictured her to be! Kinda based on the nurse at my old school but like times 10. Anyways stay tuned for the next chapter and thanks for reading :D

#Smosh #Smosh Damien #Damien Haas #Shayne Topp #Courtney Miller #super power au #superheros #Highschool Casualties #High School #My Smosh Fic

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coffeebeannate · 4 years

Text

Taken from @werebearbearbar

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works (fics, art, edits, etc.) you’ve created this year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2020. If you don’t have five published works, that’s fine! Include ideas/drafts/whatever you like that you’ve worked on/thought about, and talk a little about them instead! Remember, this is all about self-love and positive enthusiasm, so fuck the rules if you need to. Have fun, and tag as many fellow creators as you like so they can share the love! <3

I started writing fic years and years ago. And have done so in other fandoms before taking a long hiatus from the writing world in general. I stuck with written roleplay only. For what I assume to be around four or five years, I did not write a single fic. (I also wrote short stories in childhood, teen years and young adult years)

(I want to point out though that this absolutely does not negate roleplay writing, and that writing with another person, or in a group is a lesser form) My break from fanfic came with one of the worst periods of my mental and physical health, and everything I had written was purged from my Ao3 account in a single night.

I started writing for The Old Guard in August, and below, are the things I like a lot that I’ve written for it. To do this, I decided to use the criteria of ‘fics I like the most’ instead of what seems to be the most popular to read. For me, if I really love a piece of work, I recall the creative process fondly, and have lines and bits of dialogue I truly adore within it.

1. Precision Mission Fic. Gala. Post-Movie. Current Group (Nile, Andy, Joe, NIcky)

Rated M (Mature) 4846 words

My second fic for the fandom that I published, but the first I actually conceptualized. This one is just..so special to me. I have phone notes typed at five am. I can recall the excitement as I was so eager to share this story and get it off the ground. I wanted to see this complete so bad. I loved nearly every second of writing it, and it’s always going to hold a special place in my heart as a result. There’s so much overdone clothing talk and I can only think of it with fondness.

Excerpt:

None of them are comfortable. Except Joe, it seems.

Joe makes it look easy. Simplistic, even, judging by the way he effortlessly glides and charms his way through the expansive ball/congregating/entertaining room. Something that never failed to fascinate Nicky was the way Joe could integrate himself almost seamlessly into any scenario, situation, or environment. Neither Andy nor himself had that ability. Not when it came to cavorting, anyway. Nicky more quietly reserved, Andy lacking in the ability to care enough to fake it.

Nile seemed to be more in the middle. She did not appear overly comfortable with the mingling, but she had enough personal grace and adaptability to make it seem somewhat effortless to have a decent time.

All their eyes remained sharp on the surrounding area, awaiting the arrival of their target. And for all his schmoozing, Nicky knew Joe’s surveillance was tack-sharp, multitasking to a degree no one he was currently conversing with could have possibly noticed.

“You going to move at some point, or have you taken up permanent resident status here?” Nile asks, appearing at his side where Nicky has spent the last half-hour molded to the furthest left corner of the solid black bar. “I know you have an excellent view, but.”

Nicky snorted, though only Nile could actually tell, “Why waste a good opportunity?”, momentarily ceasing his Joe watching to stare back into the depths of his glass, which currently contained some horrifically shocking pink abomination, Nicky’s second drink, since he was letting the bar tender dictate them, too utterly distracted to care what was touching his lips, and curious with the way the bar tender had delighted in being given free reign to make whatever he desired.

To be fair, it didn’t taste that bad-something frighteningly sugary and weirdly noxious smelling, but it’s not exactly ‘crime against humanity’ levels of alcoholic nightmares.

2. Old

Post-movie. Current Group. (Andy, Nile, Joe, Nicky) Mortal Andy. Character study.

Rated T (Teen and Up Audiences), 2903 words.

My first attempt at Andy-centric writing. Andy is a character I consider a challenge to write, and that makes me want to write her more. This fic centers mostly around her and the others trying to come to terms with how much has happened, within day to day life and taking the comfort that they can in one another.

I really like this fic. A lot. Sure it’s short. Sure maybe not much happens, but Andy’s character fascinates me, as does her relationship with her family.

Excerpt:

Old.

Old

So motherfucking old.

Someone is calling out to her, her hearing and senses long fine-tuned to knowing. It’s Nicky- she can easily pretend she can’t hear him, he knows when she doesn’t want to talk to anyone, after all.

She’s being petty, and she knows it’s unfair. That the nearly untouched plate and nights spent not sleeping gives them reason to be at her. But facing them with that fact feels about as ideal as jumping into a flaming volcano right about now. They’re just worried. It makes her stomach turn, sour and vicious. Venom in the gut, acid in the heart.

Said volcano would be kinder.

3. Spice it Up (Or Not)

Joe and Nicky. Pre-Movie. Fluffy Lovings

Rated: E (Explicit) 3030 words

This one was just fun. I am such a sucker for banting, and the most established of established relationships that Nicky and Joe have going on. This one is indeed not safe for work, and honestly, the opening paragraphs are what came first, and I actually had to build the story around it.

Something that I think makes this fic fun to me as well is that, just because something that sounded like a good idea fails, it doesn’t make it an ending. Healthy communication, knowing each other..it’s so blissful to think about.

Things aren’t always perfect, but that’s okay. And it’s not always a threat. Oh and because this is me, what was supposed to be fairly light hearted gets all sappy and reflective mid-way.

Excerpt:

He knows Nicky in every way. He knows his scent from battle, from sex, from showers and from sleep. He knows his eyes in darkness, in light, in dread, excitement and worry. He knows his grief, his love, his sadness, and adoration. Excitement, passion, fear, and pain.

He could count each tear that Nicky has shed, could recall each tone of his voice in every language they know. From the first he heard to the current. The sweet harmony of song and the rough gasp of drunk intoxication. He’s heard him yell, heard him scream. Heard his shouts and his cries.

He knows how Nicky tends to favour his left shoulder even though there’s no reason beyond psychological to do so. A spot Joe stabbed so long ago. So far back in another life. He knows how he likes to pause and do surveillance before they enter any new location. Knows he likes vehicles that move fast and has a fondness for roller coasters.

He’s seen those hands, so large and skilled break bone, wield a sword and cut vegetables and fruit. Seen them card through his hair, felt them map out each knot and ridge in his spine and ribs, felt them so deep inside himself he can taste it. Rolling into it. Demanding, needing.

“Yusuf.” Nicky’s not calling him back, Nicky’s just as far gone. So often they seem to share thoughts.

Nicky knows Joe in all ways and more. Knows that Joe still sometimes seems to speak ancient by-gone languages in his sleep. Knows that he tends to carry the strongest personal scent in the dead of night. That no shower, no soap, no life experience or battle has truly ever masked the delightful musk he has to himself. There could be a cologne out there that would modify it, and Nicky would bite and lick it away. Demanding and asking, why take this from me? How dare you try to alter what I know and love so furiously?

4. Touch Before Heart

Historical Kaysanova. Early Years. Pre-Movie. Getting to Know Eachother.

Rated E (Explicit) 5030 words

As is pretty obvious by now, I write a LOT of early years Kaysanova. A lot. I am addicted to it.

This one..I love it. This might be one of my favourite pieces of writing of all time. If I was doing these numbers strictly in order preference, then I’d put it as number one I bet.

I think the summary I made for it sums up well just how much I love it. And maybe why.

The first moment they’re able to have a bath, they resolutely do not look at each other. Picking opposite ends of the small stream bed, backs turned to one another. A strange show of both trust and distrust; their backs were exposed, but it was up to their tentative mutual agreement to not partake in the opportunity to stab each other for it.

The..idea that they had so much to learn, so much to understand. So much confusion, anger mistrust..I just really really adore this fic and I think I did a good job with it.

Excerpt:

He curses in unison with Nicolò, both holding fast and steady as the thing finally rights itself, Nicolò letting out a slow, shaken breath of relief.

“Are you alright?” Yusuf asks, both to break the silence and mend the irritating gap they’ve created for themselves.

“Better. Thank you.”

Yusuf wants to scream.

He wants to grab Nicolò, shake him until he can do nothing but give him answers.

Why do you drive me to the brink of madness?

Why do I know your touch, but not your heart?

Why do you tempt me, consume me?

What does it mean?

Why are we here?

Why!?

It is an unfair desire; he’s hardly given the man any more clarity.

5. Curated

Post-Movie. Current Group (Nile, Andy, Joe, Nicky)

Rated G (General Audiences) 1807 words

Alright, I admit it, I had trouble picking number five. I picked Curated because it’s just..so fluffy. But it’s so sweet I always feel so sugary when I think of it. The softness that I tried to convey, and I think I succeeded.

Nile is another character that fascinates me, that I just do not explore enough, and this is all the comforting goodness I could ever hope to create.

Excerpt:

She’s grown used to the easy intimacy they all share, but the sight before her, Nicky’s eyes half-lidded, face a perfect serenity she rarely see’s on it, Joe lost, far-away in reciting but still wholly present, creates an odd, near-throbbing ache in her chest. Something powerful and raw. It’s hard to imagine that people who have been alive this long can be this content.

Everything they’ve seen, experienced and done. All the stories they’ve regaled her with. All the prep, the anxieties, the concerns, and curiosities. None of it seems to exist in these moments. Joe speaking in a language the world might think dead, the true master of softness within the room.

And there we have it! I have so much more I want to write, I have so much more I want to explore, and I thank you all for sharing in these journey’s with me. May there be more writing in our future!

#nate does writing #end of year fic thing #self positivity #things nate has written #long post

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raspberryfanfics · 4 years

Text

La Primavera—NT Month Day 2

Day 2 - Primavera or spring

I know i’m late ok? Only 17 minutes of day 3 so making the most out of it

On FFn

Introduction

The optional part of a sonata, slower than the main theme, usually in the dominant key. May contain material later stated in the exposition.

Lead violin.

Tenten swore those words would haunt her until the day she died. She was so close. Her audition was perfect. Her music was expressive, her calloused fingers rolling across the strings with grace and her arms moving the bow with so much feeling.

And the worst part was that even if her audition was perfect, she still knew that there was no way she would have made solo violin compared to Neji Hyuga. Because the moment she heard him play, she knew he did everything she did twice as well.

To be honest, La Primavera wasn't even that hard to learn as a girl who had played the violin for 18 years. She shouldn't be so upset. It wouldn't be her most important gig. It was a charity one. She wasn't even going to get played. But she knew immediately that she lost the position very easily to him. She had never lost so badly

So the past four weeks, it had been playing the first violin leading the string quartet rather than the solo violin leading the song. Tenten had been responding to the solo violin on the music rather than asking. But what could she do? No matter how much more effort she put in, she couldn't have beat Neji Hyuga, whoever that was.

But who was she kidding? She had stalked Neji Hyuga on Instagram, Twitter, and every other social media he rarely used. He appeared more frequently on the news, awards, charities, and small albums. He wrote his own music.

Meanwhile, she was making pop covers with a violin.

Of course, Tenten wrote her own music too, but it was simple, nowhere as extravagant as his.

Tenten walked into the rented church, her case heavy in her arm. A smiling boy joined her side, he had shiny black hair cut into a bowl-shape, a case similar to hers, only larger. She assumed he was the violist.

"I'm Tenten," she offered.

"Lee," he flashed a smile, bright and glaring. It made her wince, though she thought he seemed like a sweet person.

"Are you familiar with the other musicians, Hinata, Gai, and Kakashi?" she asked.

"Not Hinata," Lee said, his voice loud. "Gai-sensei taught me everything I know about the viola, Kakashi is his husband. They are incredibly talented. Do you know of Neji Hyuga?"

Tenten nodded weakly. "Yes, I've listened to his recordings. He's great."

Fucking amazing, she meant.

And he was already sitting in the room with supposedly Hinata, tuning his violin without the help of the harpsichord or a tuner.

"Do you need me to play and 'A'?" she offered, already reaching for the keyboard.

Instead, he looked up at her, his cold pale eyes meeting her warm brown ones. A tingle went down her spine, but it didn't seem to be because of the cold not because she was intimidated.

"I have absolute pitch," he replied curtly before going back 'D'.

Tenten scoffed at his abruptness and his arrogance. Of course, he'd have perfect pitch. Who would expect?

Hinata gave a slight smile. She had the same eyes as Neji did. And last name, for that matter. "I'll take an 'A', please."

Tenten smiled at her, pressing the note so it rang out. She knew that Hinata easily could have listened to her cousin's note in reference to her own, but took the note anyhow.

Lee had taken out his viola as well, tuning his instrument. With the notes fresh in her mind, Tenten started as well.

When Gai and Kakashi burst in late, she was surprised by the similarities between the former and Lee. They really looked like father and son. More so than Neji and Hinata looked like siblings or cousins.

"I COULD HEAR YOUR YOUTHFUL TUNING ACROSS FROM THE ROOM! DO PLAY ME AND 'A', MISS—"

"Tenten," she said, her voice sounding like a squeak compared to his boisterous one.

Nonetheless, she let the note run through.

And when everyone was tuned, warmed up, and ready, they started. Just from the pure grace expressed on his violin, Tenten knew she was screwed. Neji Hyuga was too good, even with only a month of practice.

Exposition

The primary part of a sonata, the beginning, presenting the main motif, commonly repeated throughout. The key changes near the end of the section, preparing for the development.

Weirdly enough, after a few practices, Tenten met him again not at the church, but when she was performing on the street, greeting strangers as they walked by, pausing to talk after each song. So she finished her cover of Riptide and smiled at him.

"Hey," she said to him while answering the questions of a few admirers. However, his posture seemed to scare off the rest of her audience.

"You use your talent for this?" he scoffed.

Whatever was the opposite of a backhanded compliment was what he had done.

"I like talking to commoners," she replied. "Everyone should hear good music."

He raised an eyebrow, she began the next song. Tenten expected him to leave but he stuck through each one of her songs, even as she talked to the people who ignored him.

"Requests, anyone?" she shouted to her audience. They looked at him and she rolled her eyes, seeing that they didn't dare speak.

"An original," he provided.

Tenten's face reddened. Did he want to make fun of her or something? Shove his superior skills in front of her face? Make it obvious that he had better music than she?

"I don't have originals," she replied. The spring breeze seemed to bring a strangely gentle smile to his lips.

"A person like you has to have originals,"

"What is that supposed to mean?" she scoffed.

"Have you really never composed anything?" Neji inquired.

Tenten paused. Any musician playing as long as she had was bound to have written something, to have memorized something. She just didn't choose to make money off of them. "I've never played them for anyone."

"Play one for me,"

And somehow, the expression on his face convinced her.

"An original for Neji here," she announced. "I call this one, Spring."

A few cheers came from her audience.

Tenten rested her bow on the strings, her calloused fingers pressing down on the board. Everything tuned out until the first ring of the music drifted through the air. It was her own interpretation of spring. Tenten played the flowers blooming, the gentle breeze, and the birds singing. When she stopped, the tips in her case looked heavier and the look of admiration and fascination in his gaze made her breath batch.

Something was different between them after that.

—

"I didn't know you had a studio," Neji walked into the apartment, offering the homey nature of where her many students would learn from her when she wasn't practicing at charities or for the people on the street.

You don't know a lot of things about me.

"Yea, it gives me more privacy. And it separates work from home. An office, in a way."

He smiled. "Impressive that you can afford it in a place with such expensive rent."

Tenten looked at him to see if there was any suspicion on his face. There weren't any. "I have my ways."

Though her ways might be questionable.

"It's not like you'd have any trouble affording it."

He shrugged, slowly looked around, sitting at her keyboard. The score on the stand took his attention. His pale eyes skimmed through the music. Her music. She could see him playing silently in his head.

"You've added more to this," he held up the page, half littered in notes. Then he motioned the piano, making her blush. "May I?'

Tenten nodded, slowly sitting beside him on the bench, the way she would with her student. Yet usually she'd listen to her students play and judge them, but now she was listening to Neji play and he was judging her.

His fingers played the first motif, then continued, playing the simple melodies with usual grace, giving her music more of a solemn feel than playful. He went through what she had not yet composed for him and the way he brought something she had written herself to life made her fall for him just a little more.

Neji filled something that Tenten made with the life only he could give, the magic he seemed to bring with him.

"It's beautiful," he said, his baritone voice deep in admiration. While her voice was high like the violin they played, his was low like the cello. Tenten's heart stopped.

"You can have it when I complete it," she blurted without thinking. He turned to her, his expression unreadable other than the fact that he thought she was crazy. "I mean, you don't' have to, of course. I know the song is super simple and definitely nothing like Vivaldi or Beethoven—"

"You'd give it to me? Your song?"

She flushed. "Well, you'd have the original score and I'd have a photocopy to play but yea, I'd write it for you."

Her face turned so red she thought she had a fever.

Yet Neji just seemed flabbergasted. Every emotion usually masked until he played the violin was open for her to see. Surprise, confusion, captivation...though she understood the expression, she just didn't understand why.

"No one has written me a piece before," he admitted, a breath escaping from his lips. And the admiration of her music turned to the admiration of her. He looked something between wonderstruck and struck. Her heart pounded in her chest a few tempos faster.

"I—I can give you one of my scores as well," he said. "It's one of the pieces I've memorized for my next concert so I'm completely finished—"

"You don't have to," Tenten said quickly, eyes wide. "You don't owe me—"

"I'd like to," he insisted. "Should you wish to learn it one day."

"Without thinking, she took his face into her hands and pulled his jaw towards her. He was still. She could feel the shock on his frozen lips. But his surprise seemed to melt like the thawing mountain streams, growing trails of new life and magic that only music could describe.

And Tenten was slowly falling for the man who tasted of spring the more she kissed him.

—

She didn't know when or even how, but there was a point where playing the Vivaldi seemed more emotional than it was. Because now, though Neji's violin was still calling, he was calling for her. She'd answer, light as the birds, like a nature spirit. And though Hinata would answer the call, then Lee, it still felt like he was calling for her only.

There they were, six strings, making one song. And it truly felt like spring.

That evening, Neji and Tenten went back to her studio. He brought his violin. He played for her the music he was still perfecting. Tenten could barely breathe. The sweet sounds made her eyes flutter shut instantly. They played for her ears only. She believed, let herself believe that this song was for her. When he finished, there was a pause. There always was a pause at the end of a great performance.

Only when he lifted his bow from the strings, had he truly completed the song. She watched anxiously as he set the instrument down, turned to her and stared into her eyes. His pale gaze was strangely warm. She breathed slowly, he breathed over her, and their legs were a tangled mess. But their lips? Oh, what was going on between their lips was far from messy.

Tenten felt like she was on cloud nine. His kisses trailed to his neck and what was supposedly warm became heated and all she could do was cling onto his dress shirt with helpless whimpers. But he pulled back, to her dismay, and it was only the grin on his face that kept her from taking charge herself.

She slowly opened her phone and tapped, then handed it back to her.

"I want to take you on a date."

Tenten nearly passed out.

"Just before the charity recital," he added. "Wear what you'll perform in and bring your violin."

She nodded dumbly.

Neji kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you then, Tenten."

After he left, she opened her phone and realized he had sent himself her real address.

All of the heat froze with a wave of fear.

—

The doorbell rang. Tenten adjusted her hair, makeup, threw her shade of lipstick into her purse in case the dinner messed it up. Or his lips.

Tenten threw makeup wipes in there just in case.

She opened the door and she had to keep herself from pouncing at him at the sight of how he looked in a perfectly tailored suit and somehow even neater hair. His tie probably cost her her her dress, shoes, and purse combined. There was a bouquet of flowers in his hand, not roses, but crocuses. Tenten didn't know a lot about flowers but she knew that crocuses were among the first flowers to bloom in spring.

As she stared at the thoughtfulness, it gave him a chance to look her apartment over. It looked normal, hopefully. He didn't point anything, in particular, out so she was in the clear.

"Shall we go?" he held his elbow out for her, which she took happily.

They walked out of her apartment, violins in their free hands.

—

The restaurant was fancy.

Tenten had feared these types of restaurants when she was younger because she knew it would be much too awkward to be enjoyable. Yet somehow, with the way he smiled and explained the French dishes to her, it didn't matter.

She cracked light jokes. They talked of their music, their lives, their dreams.

"You would have very popular concerts," he spoke.

"Yet I can't compare to you."

"I disagree," he said. "Your music is much more memorable than mine."

"I do not have the fluency that you play with, Neji."

"Will you consider being a composer?"

Tenten nodded. "I'll write you some music. You'll record them for me, make me famous."

He chuckled. "As you wish."

Her eyes widened. "Ooh, speaking of which, Lee and I got tickets to your next concert. We'll be listening very carefully for any mistakes."

"Thanks. You didn't have to."

"I would listen to your playing even had I not pursued you," she teased. "Lee would too."

Neji's expression changed. "With Lee—is there—I don't want to—if you and him—"

Tenten's eyes widened in surprise. "I've only known him since we came together for the Vivaldi. He's like a brother to me. You don't have anything to worry about."

He flushed slightly. "My apologies."

"You don't do this too often, do you?" she asked abruptly.

"Do what?"

"You don't do the dating thing a lot. You haven't had many girlfriends."

Neji stared down at his ridiculously expensive food. "It's easier for me that way. I can focus on my music."

"Then why date me?"

"Most of the time, dating distracts me. Yet you inspire me, Tenten."

Fuck, I love him.

She only smiled. "Why haven't you been inspired by the other girls?"

"I've never been as attached to them as I am with you."

And she could see every ounce of vulnerability he had like all of the snow melted under her. But she was worried about when it would burn.

Development

The second part of a Sonata, introducing new or varied motifs and begins in the key the exposition ended in.

The charity recital had brought in plenty of profit. Easily said, it had been their best performance. Tenten sat by Neji's side in the fluorescent lighting backstage, exclaiming opinions and admiring the way his face seemed all the more contoured, more like a god than man.

She held his hands, firm, calloused fingers on hi his right, softer ones on his left. She was subtle, only her quartet and harpsichord noticed. His pulse would quicken at certain actions. Tenten found that she liked discovering what those actions were.

Tenten was led into his car after the recital and he didn't put keys into the ignition, rather kissed her the moment she closed the door.

"You were driving me crazy backstage," he said between breaths.

"Really? Totally couldn't tell."

"You were."

"Looks like you're gonna have to sneak me backstage during your concert." she joked.

But alas, the moon started to grow tired of them making out in the car and she was yet to go home despite rather staying with him.

"I'm planning the date next time," she told him as they walked to her apartment, lingering because neither wanted to leave. His memory would still cling onto her, though it would never beat the real thing.

He was spring now. He used to be winter; cold, harsh, and thrilling, but she had melted into spring; warm, gentle, relaxing. She liked to think of herself as summer; hot, fierce, and playful, so she was able to do so. She liked to believe she was the only one to make the icy exterior thaw.

They reached the top of the steps to her apartment. She shoved her keys in her door, fumbling. And she looked back at him, let go of her unlocked doorknob, seeing his pale eyes staring at her so wondrously. They were darkened by the dim lighting and Tenten was filled with so much desire and amazement that she let the words at the tip of her tongue slip.

"I love you, Neji."

Tenten was afraid of his reaction so she quickly reached for the door again. Yet he grabbed her hand and pushed her wrists above her head. He attacked her with his mouth and fuck, spring was definitely summer now. She could only wrap her legs around his waist, accommodating his kisses by tilting her head and gasping for air.

Fireworks went off in her body. Symphonies played in her head. Even as he pulled away slightly, she could tell that he wanted to lean in again.

"Say it again," he breathed. She was amazed that he managed to get any words out.

"I—I love you,"

"Again,"

"I love you.

"Again."

"Aren't you going—"

"I love you, Tenten."

Her heart stopped. And it stopped again when he reached up to her cocktail dress and she realized where this was going.

"Wait—" her voice trailed off when he squeezed her bottom and sucked at her collarbone. "I—"

He opened the door and Tenten had to force herself away.

"Neji, I—"

But she was too late.

His pale eyes, previously filled with desire and lust were filled with confusion, slowly morphing into anger. In them, she could see the reflection of a warm light, the type that tried to imitate the sunshine but never worked, and a familiar silhouette.

"Tenten," though he was trying to stay calm, she could hear a slight quiver in his voice. "Who—"

The guy on the couch had obsidian hair and eyes. He seemed bored, a horror documentary playing on the television. In all, he didn't seem to care. "Who am I? I should be asking you, shouldn't I be? You're in my house, after all."

"You live here," Neji said, though it was quite obvious now.

Tenten wanted to hide in a corner. She was going to have a panic attack if this went—

"And you don't. Nice flowers you got for my girlfriend, by the way. I'm sure she appreciates it—"

"Sasuke—" she started, but Neji interrupted.

"My deepest apologies. I wasn't aware that Tenten had—"

"It is not your fault that she failed to inform you of her commitments."

But he was already out of the apartment.

She didn't even spare a look back at Sasuke, following after him with hasty steps.

"Neji!"

He didn't answer her. She called his name again and again yet he continued walking. He walked to his car, the door unlocking. With a burst of speed, she intercepted him from opening the door, biting her lip and holding back the tears she didn't deserve to have.

"Neji will you listen to me—"

"Why should I listen to you!" he shot, suddenly, face red, burned, scorched by her. His chest heaved up and down and though he feigned pure rage, it sounded more like pleading.

"So I can explain—"

"What can possibly explain you having a boyfriend already? I thought I was your boyfriend! What can you say that will excuse not telling me in any fucking circumstance?"

She was silent. Tenten didn't have an answer.

"Fuck," he said, voice breaking as if she had put her hand over the strings, stopping any further sound. "You said—you said you love me and I fucking believed you."

"I do love you!" she said. "I don't love Sasuke, I love you! I want you, Neji—"

"But how can I trust you!" tears started to roll down both their faces.

She shook and he pushed her away to the side roughly. Tenten didn't feel it. She could only feel regret and guilt and knew that she deserved it.

"I don't want to see you again. I don't want you in my life anymore," he said, voice too much calmer than before. He slammed the car door and drove away, not even looking at her through his rearview mirror.

And she broke down in the parking lot of her apartment building, feeling more helpless than she had ever been.

—

It wasn't like Tenten had ever loved Sasuke Uchiha. Not even a little bit. How could she have ever had an ounce of feeling other than platonic for him when that was the only way he felt for her too?

The thing was, she was his rebound friend with benefit. Two bad ideas in one. But bad ideas often outweighed each other and while friends with benefits often caught feelings and as did rebounds, being both made her even colder to him than she used to be.

Sasuke had just broken up with Sakura Haruno, a bassist under Kakashi, while he was a violist like Lee. They had known each other forever. They had loved each other for a little shorter. But Sakura wasn't someone he could just get over. Sex wouldn't change that but would sure distract.

He and Tenten took many of the same classes in university. Were they friends? Not really. But they often collaborated together and knew each other well enough. Around the same time he broke up with Sakura, she needed a studio for her students. So he let her live in his one-room apartment and in exchange, she became his girlfriend, which really just meant she was his sex buddy and warded off any other girls who wanted to be.

And it worked for her too. Like Neji, boyfriends distracted her. She didn't like falling for guys even though she knew she would cave under some of their charms. Sasuke warded them off for her as well. He wasn't bad in bed either. They only considered themself as actual friends when she was so drunk that she brought home a guy who wanted to take advantage of her in her own house, whom he nearly beat up.

Maybe it would have been easier to explain to him had she not slept with him since meeting Neji. Tenten really had done that. She felt dirty, a mistress, and Sasuke didn't know any better than to drive Neji off too. He had been right. Nothing could have possibly excused her actions because he deserved to know about Sasuke in a way better than what had happened, and he would have understood why she did what she did.

Tenten sulked around her house for a week. She emailed her students and said she was sick. She practiced the violin all day, playing the songs he had given her for hours on end.

That was when her "boyfriend" approached her.

"I think it's around time you and I broke up."

Tenten blinked, then saw he was sincere. She set down her instrument and he sat down on their bed, sighing.

"The past few weeks, you don't seem to want sex as much."

She nearly slapped him for his words but he held his pale hand out, stopping her.

"In the times we did have sex, you muttered someone else's name," he explained. "I couldn't figure out what you said. But now that I think about it, it was his. The man you brought home and cried for a week ago. I can tell you love him, the way I love Sakura. I don't want to get in the way between that."

Tenten didn't know what to say. She just stared at him. It was obvious that he still wasn't over his ex, but he had never admitted loving her out loud.

"I'll help you move out. I can loan you some money as well."

"But why? I'm the one who has been in the wrong. Why are you being so nice to me?"

He shrugged. "You were the only person who understood not wanting to talk about Sakura. And you've made me realize that I want her back."

She found herself calling Lee that day, explaining to him the mess she had gotten into. He offered her the empty room in his space.

Recapitulation

The repeat and slightly altered version of the exposition in a sonata. Usually consists of a transition to keep the tonic key so the section can conclude.

"TENTEN! DID YOU SERIOUSLY FORGET?"

It was the middle of the evening. What could she possibly forget? She was in her studio, writing music.

"Lee, what is it this time?" Tenten muttered, setting her score down as he walked in, wearing a green button-up and nice pants. His hair was neater. He looked like he was going on a date. Had he needed a ride for his date or something?

"The concert!" he shouted as if she was stupid. To be fair, she was.

"What concert?"

"NEJI'S CONCERT! NEJI'S CONCERT IS TODAY! WE HAVE TICKETS, REMEMBER?" he shoved a black dress into her hands. "GET READY."

Tenten's heart stopped. She hadn't seen him in weeks. She thought of him every day. She cried herself to sleep thinking of him. She thought of him in her sleep. "Why the fuck would I go to his concert?"

"Because even if you are in love with him, it doesn't excuse the fact that he has great music."

She could see very little resemblance between the two subjects.

"Oh, come on, Ten. Are you seriously going to miss it?"

She wasn't and he knew it. So she threw on the dress and joined him in the concert hall, blending in with hundreds among hundreds of other people, waiting in line just to see him play. Tenten didn't know what to expect.

The lights seemed to dim in what felt like years and he walked out onto the stage. Her breath caught painfully in her throat. It hadn't caught this way in so long.

He was the personification of elegance. His dark suit made him took tall, his hair drifting down his back in a low ponytail, his pale skin glowing in the spotlight. Tucked under his arm was his violin. Even though he was on the stage and she was far into the audience, she could still see those lilac eyes clearer than ever.

Neji took a spot at the center of the stage and closed his eyes, shifting as everything was so silent she could hear a pin drop. When he opened his eyes, music started to drift into the halls.

She recognized the music. She had listened to him play it over and over again, sometimes slowly, sometimes in different rhythms. She had played it over and over again, the music that he had given her the scores to. Upon hearing the sounds coming from his violin rather than hers, Tenten felt like she was going to burst because even though it was the same music, it sounded so different as he did.

And the whole concert was like that. She had to close her eyes and listen so she could be fully immersed in it. Tenten felt herself falling all over again. The music was sombre, cold, and distant. Yet she felt it all. She had been summer before and now she was turning into autumn. Everything was chilly. Shivers ran down her spine.

When he ended his last piece, it felt like no time had passed. Everyone was quiet. They could only breathe it in. Neji bowed, and she could only stand like the rest of them, clapping. He looked forwards and she felt like he was looking directly at her, but he wasn't. He only looked to a sea of faces, faces he couldn't even see, and she knew she was only imagining things. They cheered for an encore, even the staff cheered for an encore, and he slowly raised his hands, allowing them to quiet so he could perform.

Yet he spoke instead. She hadn't heard him speak this whole time until now.

"This piece was composed for me by someone dear to me. She calls it Spring."

Tenten clutched onto Lee's arm with terrifying strength. "Fuck, fuck, Lee, that's my—"

But the first note of her song filled the hall with a warmed feeling than all of his other songs. He was playing her song. He played to exceptionally beautifully, with all the emotions she had felt in her heart. She heard love, she heard spring, and she heard the beautiful thing they had developed in a heart wrenching way.

Tears slid out of her eyes as he finished and when she left, the talkative exclaims of how their favourite piece had been the encore at the end.

—

Hinata had given her his address so there she was, standing at Neji's apartment with only hope and a violin.

She rang his doorbell slowly, holding her breath as she heard his footsteps come closer.

The door opened and he met her eyes, holding her gaze for a solid second before slamming the door in her face.

"Neji Hyuga!" she screamed, tired, fed up, and terribly, terribly in love with him.

"Fuck off!"

She didn't think that such foul and ungraceful words would ever come out of his mouth. Yet Tenten had long predicted such an outcome would happen. So she sat her violin case on the opposite wall, then took out her tuner. She watched as the notes hit a whole tone below what the standard tuning was and started on the song.

Though it was awkward at first, she soon got the hang of it. The melody was the one he composed. Music in exchange for music. A song an audience had heard but only two knew to play. She mustered all the emotions she could into it. Tenten tried to play it as well as he did.

Her performance caught the attention of a few other residents of the building. Perhaps they were enchanted by the music, perhaps they were going to threaten Neji with another sound complaint. Yet they saw her, not him, playing differently, playing in the hall. They listened to her, reciting his music until his door opened once more.

Neji's eyes were brimmed red, he looked more tired than he had during his concert. She stopped playing at the sight of him and couldn't move her sore fingers. She saw his adam's apple bob and he bit his lip.

"You're out of tune," he whispered. Because of course even though her music had brought him to tears behind the door, he would only point out her purposeful mistake to flaunt his absolute pitch.

The people of the apartment watched in interest.

"It's driving you mad," she said, referring herself more than the instrument. Yet she tucked the violin under her arm, grabbing her case, and entering his apartment before he could drive her out yet again.

Neji leaned against the door after closing it, rubbing his temples. He didn't meet her gaze.

"I'm sorry for everything," she whispered, setting down her violin and touching his face lightly.

Neji leaned his head back further into the door, almost as if he wanted to escape her touch, but he tilted it and somehow his jaw fit even tighter into her hand.

"I won't make excuses. But I have never had feelings for Sasuke, only for you, and we broke up a couple of weeks ago. I still love you, Neji." Tenten inhaled sharply. "I know you love me too."

And he started to shake, trembling into her hand, clinging onto her.

"Will you give me another chance?"

Neji nodded.

She hadn't realized how badly she needed that. Relief flooded her veins and she kissed him, slowly, steadily, and never planned to let go.

Spring meant new beginnings, but most of the time it was just being revived again.

#nejitenmonth2020 #nejiten fanfiction #nejiten #neji #tenten #violin au #spring #raspberryfanfics #raspntmonth20

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jcs-writing-hell · 5 years

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NHS/LXC | First Kiss | Modern AU

Xichen felt like crap. He had gotten his heart broken - yet again - and it like always was his very own fault.

This tragic chain had started early for him.. Despite the harsh way he got raised by his uncle together with Wangji while their parents were abroad.. He had always been nice, kind, patient.. too much of the above.

Somehow it had turned into a standard that he would treat everyone too well, too similarly.. to the point where those he liked more than it seemed either never realized he wanted more or if they gasped and were like:

“Really? But, you treat me the same as everyone else?!”

Some even went as far as to say - at times more and less nicely - that they couldn’t imagine being in a relationship with someone that nice, claiming to doubt themselves too much for that.

It was truly a bittersweet irony that everyone always came to him - the sweet guy with broad shoulders to lean and cry their hearts out on.. but that at the end no matter how bad of a guy his love interest had fallen for, no matter how often they claimed that he would be perfect for them and everything one could dream of.. at the end he was always too soft, too gentle, not bad boy enough.

It was only minimally different this time. Almost a year had passed since he first met the newbie that had began to work at his best friends weaponry company.

Xichen began to feel some tiny bits for Meng Yao, yet he noticed from the first second on that Mingjue had long since developed feelings for Yao as well.. just that neither Yao nor Mingjue were aware of that. Aware of why Mingjue got so upset whenever Yao didn't come to him when someone was bullying him, or for whichever other all day everyday reason.

Now, on Friday, just a few hours ago.. He had gotten a call from a frantic Mingjue saying that something had happened.. The something Xichen had known and hoped would happen, which didn't help his pain at all. It only made him feel more guilty for.. feeling heartbroken about the fact that Mingjue and Yao had.. had..

He had recalled the words Mingjue had said so often since then but, right now as he sat on his couch, Xichen still couldn't help but sob into the pillow. The area around him was a mess, drenched tissues lying around everywhere, all kinds of sweets and desserts in between of the mess. He had even tried drinking already but if he'd have another glass, which would tick him into his crazy drunken outbursts,.. Rather not, not now where everything was raw and fresh still.

Xichen spend another while sobbing into his pillow before letting out a last choked noise and getting up from the couch. He knew he looked miserable, but staying home alone sounded like the worst option and.. all he could do was go out, a bar, club, whatever.. after all he couldn’t go to his best friend, Mingjue, for obvious reasons.

However, just as he walked past his apartments entrance door his bell went off.. It was a melody he had recorded himself, after all he had majored in music and it was a equally as calming as welcoming little tune.

Wiping his face with his sleeve Xichen then went to the door, opening it while clearing his throat. Shock overcame him when Huaisang let himself in, the younger one turned and stared at him wide eyed with both shock and worry visible.

,,Huang-Ge, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

,,I’m not.”

Xichen couldn’t blame the quite a few inches smaller one for giving him a look, his voice sounded hoarse and rough - typical result of crying for extended periods of time on and off. Regardless, Xichen put up a facade, smiling like he always did - speaking in the distorted version of his usual tone.

,,What leads you here, A-Sang?”

,,You say you’re fine, a second before you admit that you’ve forgotten we were supposed to meet today to paint?”

Crap, he had totally forgotten about that.

,,I’m sorry, I totally misplaced the memory of that..”

,,Go, get yourself under the shower and dress yourself up.”

Huaisang and he weren’t as good friends as Xichen and Mingjue.. yet they both favoured art, so they had bonded over that and it was.. strangely relaxing that Huaisang usually tried to stay out of anyone else's business.. but it was so like the younger one to push for proper attire and to get the other to make himself look better - Huaisang and his affinity towards the outer appearance were really something.

Not that Xichen minded it, he only nodded and left to head to the bathroom after giving his mess of a living room a last awkward glance.

To Xichens surprise when he came back, without feeling all that much better, Huaisang had already cleaned up the living room and prepared their painting equipment. For a while the taller one of them felt like maybe that would help.. just acting as if nothing happened, going straight back to normal.

And so the time moved on, they both sat down.. but even after half an hour, that turned into 45 minutes and lastly an hour.. the only one to ever make a stroke with his brush was Huaisang who - without Xichen taking note of it - glanced at the other here and there.

,,Huan-Ge,.. What happened?"

Xichen flinched so badly despite his friend speaking up calmly and in a - for Huaisang's standards - low tone of voice that he dropped the brush he had held in his hand while staring blankly at the canvas in front of him. As he looked over, however, Huaisang didn't once look at him, only kept painting and waiting for a reply Xichen couldn't.. didn't want to give.

,,It's nothing."

,,You forgot we were supposed to meet, you cried.. you didn't make a single stroke with your brush and apart from that you're wearing those clothes."

,,Those clothes? What's wrong with my clothes?"

Huaisang's motions came to a hold, only so that he could roll his eyes before letting out a heavy breath and placing his brush down.

,,Technically nothing, if someone hasn't known you for long. Since I do, the oversized fluffy sweater and the sweatpants without you even bothering to make sure they won’t get dirty.. combining with you not painting a single dot..”

,,Oh..”

That was all Xichen could come up with - and honestly it made him feel somewhat retarded.. It just wasn’t like his best friends younger brother to be so.. pushy? Was that even the right word?

,,It’s not the first time you behaved that way either.. If I’m correct it happens at least once a year where you suddenly wear dark clothes like A-Ying possessed you.”

The realisation hit so hard and left such a bad taste in the taller ones mouth that he couldn’t even huff out some sort of an amused sound. Xichen just sat there, silently staring down at his brush as once again the phone call with Mingjue replayed in his head.. it took only seconds before his sight, as hard as he tried to hold himself together, went blurry and his hands began to shake.

,,A-Jue.. He called me earlier.. within the next few hours he and A-Yao will be official. I’m happy for them, it’s just..”

Within a second Xichen rose from his chair, wiping his face with his sleeve as he cleared his throat and tried to force what was about to run out of his nose back up. He was a mess and god how he hated that he was so sensitive, that he felt everything so deeply.

,,It’s my fault, if I would just learn from the things I’ve experienced and seen over the years.. If I wouldn’t..”

Huaisang watched in silence how his art friend tried to pack his supplies back into his bag as he talked in between of pauses to likely cover up sobs - not that Xichen’s voice didn’t already give it all away, or how badly he failed at “cleaning up” with half the stuff landing on the floor.

,,Huan-Ge..”

Huaisang didn’t get a reaction, the only thing that happened was that Xichen’s behaviour seemed to grow even more erratic and hopeless.

,,Huan-Ge, you should sit down. You are going to collapse if you keep going like that.”

Again, no reaction.

,,A-Sang, what?!”

The older one blurted out as the next thing he knew was that Huaisang had pushed him to sit on the couch - which wasn’t a hard thing to do, keeping in mind how wobbly Xichen was on his feet. What was more irritating and left Xichen frozen in place, however, was that his oldest friends younger brother sat down on him.. a leg on each side of his, facing him with a weirdly threatening expression - or at least a bit of a “try it” glare.

,,A-Jue is going to kill me.. us.. No, me - definitely me, so please.. get off.”

Huasaing chuckled as he reached up to put the tip of his index finger under the others chin - It was the first time Xichen got to see that side of the younger one.. one where he didn’t act like an art loving, soft and easily scared fool.. one where Xichen felt himself swallow, unable to not take note of the fact that Huaisang just like him, wasn’t a child at all anymore. To his horror, how he felt must’ve been noticeable enough to cause a dark yet dangerously seductive, smug smirk to appear on the smaller males lips.

,,I told you to sit down, Huan-Ge.. If you aren’t going to listen, then I have to force you for your own sake, don’t I?~”

,,A-Sang, that’s not funny.”

,,I’m not trying to be entertaining. We are both adults that are going through things and if we’re already going to do something we will regret..~”

Xichen, so far, hadn’t had many of “those” moments in life. The moments a countless amount of men always try to use as an excuse “I don’t know what happened - I didn’t want it but my body just..” and anything similar to that.. but right now, as Huaisang’s tone kept getting more and more luring while their faces seemed to be naturally pulled closer.. after getting dumped or simply ignored for years on end..

||Mingjue is going to kill me.. I’m dead..||

The older one thought as he lifted his hand to place it on Huaisangs nape as both their hearts were thumping away in their chests because of adrenaline, fueled by anticipation, loneliness and more.

At the end, with a last hard to read flicker appearing in Huaisangs eyes, Xichen then felt their lips collide - from start, finish, to end.. It was the smaller male that led and oh.. how surprising it was how Huaisang could act, behave.. how he felt, sounded..

It was strange for a while, for both of them.. like a forbidden fruit they should’ve never dared to pick, yet they did and it was equally as sweet as rough. Their hands soon began to wander, and not long into the kiss as Xichen pulled the smaller male closer by the ass their tongues also began to dance alongside one another’s.

It wasn’t love - It wasn’t lust either what brought them together. Xichen didn’t even know what “situation” Huaisang was going through.. despite that though, the ending could be different.. maybe it wouldn’t be, who knew? But one thing was for certain, they found the comfort in one another that they were missing right then and there in their lives and probably.. maybe, all of this had been inevitable and meant to be since a long time.

It wasn’t even the best of kisses, from neither side.. but with each it went better, more heated and deep.. And the art they created throughout the night on the older ones sheets was messy, likely an unforgivable sin.. but heavens was it good to feel alive.

And god, how overtaken by Huaisang’s aura and skills Xichen was from start to finish.. while Huaisang bathed in the feeling of being treated like the finest, most expensive and stunning pieces of Jade.

Part 2

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#mo dao zu shi #mdzs #the untamed #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #lan xichen #lan huan #nie huaisang #xisang #mingyao #mo dao zu shi fanfic #mdzs fanfic #jc's hellish request

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anony-mony-moose · 4 years

Text

Let’s Stay Together - Izzy Stradlin x Reader (Part 2)

Y/N starts her new job, agrees that Izzy’s water is hot, and narrowly dodges an interrogation from Duff

warnings for swearing, mentions of drug use, and very mild Duff abuse (specifically his toe)

also on ao3 :)

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“First off, you gotta be able to clean dishes.”

“Oh don’t worry about that.” I delivered my most charming smile. “I’m a dab hand when it comes to soap and water, Angus.”

Izzy huffed quietly in amusement as he set down a chopping board, and I had to work to keep the pleasant expression on my face.

“I don’t doubt it, Y/N/N.” Angus replied jovially, eyes twinkling under his undulating brow. “Only other condition is I have to like you enough to be around you five days a week.”

I bit my lip and sighed dramatically. “Shit, well if it’s not meant to be... Where’s my coat?”

He belted out a laugh and strode further into the kitchen, slapping my back (and politely ignoring the way I jumped about a foot in the air).

“Come on, we gotta get you set up before the orders start. It’ll get real busy soon. You wouldn’t think so, on a Thursday afternoon...” He continued as he led me to the sinks at the back, marching past Izzy who shot me a wink and laughed silently at the mock-bewildered face I pulled.

There isn’t much you can explain about washing up, further than pointing to a sink and then some dishes, but Angus gave it a shot anyway, doling out helpful tips like, “This one’s the cold tap, that one’s hot. Be careful, alright? The hot water is pretty damn hot.” Eventually, mercifully, his commentary ran dry and he bustled over to dice veg with Izzy at one of the counters. A few hours passed with me scrubbing my way through various pots and pans, occasionally enjoying Angus’ happy chatter about this and that whenever service calmed down. He had something to say about just about everything, that man.

Although you wouldn’t know it from the way he spoke, Angus Walker was only in his early thirties. Smoking one too many packs a day for about ten too many years had reduced his voice to a low scratchy rumble, and it matched perfectly with the strange little rambling tales he liked to share. His funniest kitchen war stories usually centred around his time starting out in Chicago. They were also evidently his favourites to tell - he’d get properly invested, slipping into thickly accented voices for each character. The way he reminisced, you’d think he was referring to things that took place fifty years ago.

Although not especially close, we’d been familiar since I first arrived in LA. Of course, since Izzy got the job doing food prep for him at Andrea’s, we bumped into quite regularly - it was usually Angus who answered the back door, and he was very generous with Izzy’s smoke breaks whenever I came calling. Weirdly enough though, Duff had also previously worked for him at a bakery, which was conveniently only ten minutes up the road from the call centre I was temping at at the time (another job which bit the dust pretty fast). I used to pop by everyday over my lunch hour to chat with all the staff in the break room. Duff made a habit of stuffing my pockets on my way out with all the goods that didn’t survive the ovens, constantly trying to feed me up, and even back then Angus would always turn a blind eye.

All round, he was just a really nice bloke. Didn’t half harp on though, I mused, tuning in to follow the end of a lengthy discussion about the guy I’d replaced.

“Damn sight better to have you on the team, anyway.” He concluded, pottering away to rummage around for something in the walk-in. I turned and caught a knowing smirk from Izzy.

“Comin’ out for a smoke?” He asked, jerking his head towards the door.

I nodded and swivelled round to check with Angus.

“Sure honey, take all the time you need! I’ll hold down the fort over here!” He hollered in reply and I stifled a small laugh. I had a feeling he was just grateful for a new, even marginally more responsive ear to chew off as he worked - Izzy could be an absolute brick wall when he set his mind to it.

We stepped outside into a light drizzle and the man in question burst into laughter, ducking with a delighted grin as I clouted him round the back of the head.

“You are a such a fuckin’ flirt!” He wheezed, only spurred on by my unsuccessful attempts to look unamused. His shoulders shook as he plucked a crumpled pack of Marlboro’s from his back pocket, still chuckling as he passed one to me.

“Angus doesn’t mind.” I mumbled, glancing away to hide my smirk.

He cackled again. “No, he fuckin’ doesn’t.”

Our elbows knocked together, a short fit of giggles escaped me before I could properly stamp it down. My voice trembled when I replied, “My skills really are wasted on this shit, huh?”

All it took was a glance and we both devolved into hysterics again.

You could probably forgive us for feeling a bit crazed that afternoon. Neither of us had got even a glimpse of sleep, having been kept up all night by Slash and a steady supply of pills from his various pockets; the man really did have everything stashed away in there. The day had broken and morning was well on it’s way to noon when Slash finally left to restock, Izzy and I tagging along just for something to do. I didn’t have much memory of our bleary walk around town to find a dealer, apart from a single clear image of the cold, grey sunlight dancing over Izzy’s face. A little weird, granted, but I figured that could be easily blamed on the pills.

It was a bit of a miracle that we actually to made it to Andrea’s on time. It was even more of a miracle that we weren’t just turned away in our bedraggled state. Getting a good look now we were outside, Izzy still looked objectively awful, with big red rings shadowing his eyes and a slightly twitchy quality to all his movements. An unruly part of my brain helpfully reminded me that despite this, he was still extremely attractive. Another, more unruly part suggested that, yes, I definitely still wanted to shag him like this, and hey presto, now I was imagining him pinning me against that metal door and fucking those hangover jitters out of me. Christ.

No sleep, an ever-intensifying comedown, and an incorrigible imagination – the real miracle would be surviving to the end of this shift.

*****

“Sheena is-“ The words garbled as I dunked my head back under the showerhead to rinse. “A punk rocker, no-o-o-o-ow!” My feet slipped a little, stumbling over an empty beer can which floated above the drain, and I splashed my face to wash off the soapy water, still singing cheerily. “She’s a punk, punk,” I climbed out of the tub to snatch up the towel from the floor, (“A punk rocker!”) giving myself a quick once over (“Punk, punk-“) before hitching it up around me. (“A punk rocker-er!”) I shook my hair out enthusiastically and immediately winced as that stubborn hungover headache clattered around my skull again like an enraged bull, battering away at my temples. I could hardly wait to meet the guys and get a drink inside me, if only to get rid of the incessant pounding in my head.

I plugged on determinedly with the song, neatly bringing the chorus to an end as I left the bathroom (spoiler: she is still definitely a punk rocker). A wry grin was leering at me from the other side of the door.

“Is she now?”

I hid a smile and squeezed some more water out of my hair as I pushed past to search out some clothes.

“Yeah, weren’t you listenin’? I thought me and Joey made it pretty clear.”

A loud thunk sounded from the window. He brushed behind me to answer it, hand flitting over my bare shoulder briefly, and I swallowed as I sifted haphazardly through the accumulated rubbish on the floor for my skirt. I sighed, standing up to ask Izzy if he remembered where we’d lobbed it before, and the unkempt stranger outside jeered suddenly. How he had the energy, I had no idea. The sheen of sweat on his forehead hinted at a pretty nasty case of dopesickness – after all, that was why he’d come knocking.

“Shit, Stradlin, what else you got hidin’ in there?” My nose scrunched up in irritation, any sympathy vanishing instantly, but Izzy beat me to it.

“Fuck off.” He hissed and reached out to give him a harsh shove, and the man stumbled backwards, startled.

“Jeez, man, I was j-“ The window slammed shut in his face and he gawked through the dirty glass for a second before dashing off into the alley, probably remembering the fresh dose of smack in his hand. Izzy lingered, glowering at his retreating back. On second thoughts, maybe it was the glower that sent him running.

“Um, have you seen-“ I began as he turned and said, “I should’ve beat his fuckin’ ass for that. Sorry.”

I blinked, taken aback by the ferocity in his tone. “It’s fine, Iz.” He eyed me dubiously. “Really. I would’ve said the same thing, I mean-“ I flounced a hand across my body, adopting a terrible imitation of a Californian drawl, “Have you seen this bod?”

He snorted and produced my lost mini-skirt from somewhere in his unmade bed, offering it to me as he changed the subject abruptly.

“How was my shower?”

“Uh... Functional?” That was… An oddly pointed question. “I’m clean as a whistle now, so…” I yanked a pair of tights up over my arse and stepped into the skirt.

“Hot enough for you?”

So that was what he was getting at. I smirked drily and rolled my eyes as I clipped up my bra. “Put Nicky’s to shame.”

“Good to hear.” He handed me a dark blue shirt and watched me slip it on with a smirk to match mine. “You ready to head out?”

I glanced up, pausing my buttoning, to raise an eyebrow. “Feelin’ impatient, Izzy?”

His hands covered mine to fasten the last few buttons up to my chest, surely feeling the way my heartbeat revved up a little in anticipation. He dipped his head, just enough to lock eyes with me, that wicked smirk still firmly in place, and practically purred, “Always.”

*****

“Y/L/N!”

Duff waved me down as he left his apartment block, leaping out into the road and racing over to meet me outside Izzy’s building, barely avoiding a motorbike as it whizzed past.

“Hey, man.” His grin was infectious, bright even in the persistent spitting rain, and it managed to take some of the bite from my grumbling reply.

“You’re a bit chipper for this time in the afternoon, aren’t you?”

“You left very early last night.” No time to waste on small talk, apparently.

I started walking purposefully in the direction of the Strip, not sparing him a glance as he plodded along beside me. I didn’t have to see his face to know that there was still a teasing grin plastered all over it.

“You weren’t the only one.”

“I wasn’t?”

He raised his eyebrows, almost managing to keep a serious expression.

I bit down a giddy smile (Jesus, where was that coming from?) and dug my hands into the pockets of Izzy’s coat. “Piss off, Duff.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

I narrowed my eyes at him pointedly, (yep, there was the grin) and stopped to help shield him from the wind as he lit a cigarette. He repeated it and passed one to me.

“Cheers.” We strode on, my hair whipping and snapping around me like a whirlwind. I huddled further into the leather, firmly ignoring the unmistakeably Izzy scent that was ingrained in the collar, and the heat it sparked inside me.

“Gee, that’s a nice jacket you’re wearing.” Duff continued gleefully, a generous helping of sarcasm injected into his voice. I sighed and shook my head in exasperation. “Now where have I seen it before?”

I shot him an amused look. “What’s up, McKagan?”

“Who, me? Ohhh, nothin’ at all, zilch. Just makin’ a couple of observations, that’s all.”

“Sure about that?”

“Totally.” He paused as I dodged a frenzied woman in a pantsuit. “So many different things to observe, don’t you think?”

I snorted. “I don’t know, Duff, but I bet you’re gonna tell me.”

“You and Izzy disappear together last night, now you’re wearin’ his clothes this morning,” I checked, a little alarmed to find that I actually was wearing his shirt again today, while Duff threw his hands up in the air. “God, what could it all mean?”

I spluttered, laughing, and ducked under the awning of the liquor store to take one last drag of smoke before heading in. Of course, he followed me.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” The change rattled in my hand as I scoured the shelf in front of me, hardly paying attention to Duff swanning around on the side of the aisle.

“I’m just sayin’,” He called, “If I didn’t know better I’d say you two were gettin’ pretty cosy.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed another cheap bottle of rum, sidling past him to deposit everything at the checkout.

“Hey Al, how’s it goin’?” I sighed, counting out the last of my quarters on the tabletop.

“He givin’ you trouble, sweetheart?” He nodded gruffly over my head at the giant blonde softie behind me, currently inspecting the label of a bottle of red wine.

I laughed, trying to imagine what Duff might look like to an untrained eye. He could be pretty scary when he needed to, after all. “No, he’s fine.”

“What’s goin’ on?” Duff’s hands landed on my shoulders and I flinched a little despite myself.

“If you’re sure.” Al muttered under his breath, patiently divvying up my assortment of coins and dollar bills. “You got another fifty cents, honey?”

I winced. That was all the cash I had. Duff’s touch disappeared from my shoulders to delve into his jean pockets, rooting around hastily.

“Sorry man, that’s all I got. I’ll leave the-“

“No, no, don’t be silly. Owe me it, alright?”

“But hey, I have-“ I silenced Duff with a light stomp on his toe.

“Thanks mate, I really appreciate it.” I gathered up the bottles under my arm, promising to be back with the remainder soon.

“Hey, forget it Y/N. Tell you what, keep that fifty. Buy some fuckin’ breakfast next time, okay?”

I snickered and waved as we turned to leave. “Will do! See you later!”

The bell above the door jingled chirpily as we left and Duff paused to spark another couple of cigarettes for us before stepping back out into the street. I frowned as he continued back the way we’d just come. He hadn’t really just left his apartment to follow me to the shop, had he?

“Are you goin’ home?”

“Nah, I’m late for work.” He said, looking remarkably unfazed.

“Shouldn’t you be walkin’ the other way, then?”

“I’ll walk you back first.” I opened my mouth to protest but he forged ahead before I could. “Didn’t get to the bottom of my observations yet.”

I sighed and waited for him to continue, but he stayed quiet instead, even when Izzy’s building came back into sight.

“What do you want me to say?” I said finally. “I thought everybody knew already, we fuck now and then. It’s not exactly big news.”

We stopped outside the door and I puffed away the last few tokes of my cigarette as I waited for him to reply. He was smiling fondly at me, and I found it infuriating for some reason.

“And you’re sure it’s just sex?”

“Uh, yeah.” I frowned. “Is that not what I said?”

He was still smiling and appearing quite entertained by my confusion, and I shook him off, wrinkling my nose, when he reached down to ruffle my hair.

“You know, you’re a real dumbass, Y/N/N.”

I scowled. “Yes, thanks, I did know that.”

He rocked back on his heels to fix me with a calculating stare.

“What does Izzy think?” He said carefully. Huh?

“What the fuck d’you mean, what does-”

“Shit!” Duff blurted, eyes widening comically. “I gotta get to work!” He turned on his heel and started sprinting back into town, shouldering through the midday stragglers and throwing out frantic apologies as he barged past people. In the space of about ten seconds, he was gone, flying out of view round the corner with a final shout of “Come see me when you get your head outta your ass!”

I stood there, dumbfounded. What the hell did he mean by that?

Curiously enough, he wasn’t the only one who’d suggested… Well, whatever it was he’d been trying to suggest. Axl had pulled me aside when we were out the night before last, bellowing in my ear that he was happy for me and Iz, of all things. If that wasn’t unsettling enough, him and Slash had taken to calling Izzy’s apartment ‘the love nest’ since I’d started hanging around there constantly, bedding down with Izzy every single night this week - as if I needed a reminder. I spent more time there than I did anywhere else at the moment, and it was getting a bit ridiculous. I’d been offered a roof to crash under for one night, and here I was, a week later, making myself a permanent fixture. He hadn’t mentioned it yet though, which seemed kind of unusual for someone normally so blunt.

I was still lost in thought as I twisted the cap off one of the bottles and gulped down a bolstering mouthful of whisky, trudging into the hallway to rap on Izzy’s door. The whole thing was very weird, I decided, screwing the cap back on. Very weird, indeed. And here I was, returning again. Bloody hell, what a disaster.

But then the door swung open, and I was greeted with a greedy kiss, emitting a pleased (if a little surprised) moan. Izzy was just as gloriously naked as I’d left him, with keen hands pulling me inside and pushing me up against the back of the door to kiss the breath out of me, already stripping me of his jacket and depositing it in a heap on the floor next to the booze.

“You were gone a long time.” He gasped, somehow still managing an air of nonchalance, even as he tore my (his) shirt up over my head. I wriggled out of it and launched myself back into his embrace, pressing up for another filthy kiss. His hands carded through my damp hair, and he broke away panting, confused. “It’s rainin’?”

I huffed, laughing a little, and dragged him with me towards the bed. “You wanna talk about the weather right now?”

His mouth stretched out to form a grin, and crashed back into mine - and all thoughts of Duff and his oddly foreboding questions swiftly evaporated.

#izzy stradlin #izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin fanfiction #izzy stradlin fanfic #duff mckagan #axl rose #saul hudson #steven adler #gnr #gnr x reader #gnr fanfiction #gnr fanfic

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