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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 2 years ago

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I did the thing guys

I did another CHAPTER GUYS

I DID IT

Gods I love being able to write on an actual computer again. My glorified typewriter. So happy.

So here we are, chapter two!!!!

My poor socially awkward lil swordsman bb I lub hims

Strawhat Stowaway

Chapter 2

Ch. 1 link

Little bit of hurt/comfort, slow burn, silly, fluffy, will be trigger warnings in later chapters but not this one

Wordcount: 3.2k Taglist thingy that I just had to edit in because I forgot I'm so sorry: @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kawennote09

After an alcohol drenched Halloween party at your friends' dorm, you wake up to find yourself in a strange place. This might not be quite as alarming...if not for the fact that it's an entirely different world, enshrouded with pirates and strange magic.

♬♫ Desperate Guy - The Fratellis ♫♬

Hear me now, hear me now, there’s nothing very much I wouldn’t do to catch your eye

And you can’t see me now, see me now, there’s just so many things I’m haunted by

He heard Nami offering to loan you a change of clothes as he crossed the deck, but that was drowned out by your words from minutes earlier, still echoing around Zoro’s head; your cheeky smirk while your eyes passed over him, blatantly checking him out.

I’d settle for a date.

Zoro had been on his own for a few years before meeting Luffy. He’d had a handful of one night stands, but this was new. You had appeared out of nowhere, less than an hour ago, and now you were flirting with him—and all he had managed to do in response was stare at you and stammer like an idiot.

You had to be joking.

You were probably joking. You seemed like the type, already had been joking around a little about the gravity of your situation, taking it in stride instead of shutting down in fear and defeat. That was pretty cool in itself. You definitely had resolve.

And you seemed pretty smart. And pretty hot—

“God dammit,” he grumbled under his breath, rolled his eyes at himself as he entered the small cabin with the hammock stretched across from one wall to the other. He pulled his t-shirt off a little more aggressively than he intended and tossed it at the hammock, digging through his belongings for a new one. He had to get a hold of himself; you had made one little comment and he was acting like an idiot.

“…seem to be taking this pretty well.”

“I mean, I can’t really do anything about it if I don’t even know how I got here.” He glanced sharply toward the doorway when he heard your and Nami’s voices drawing nearer, crossing the deck as he pulled out a black shirt and red haramaki. “And I’ve never been on a ship before, so that’s pretty cool once you get past the existential dread.” You glanced through the doorframe as you were passing by with Nami, meeting his eyes for a moment, and he was pretty sure you smirked again and glanced across his shirtless torso before disappearing past the view of the doorframe. “And I’m not complaining about the views, either.”

Yeah, you had definitely smirked again.

The swordsman could do little more for a long moment than stand there staring at the doorframe, frozen in place, gritting his teeth and twitching slightly. It was like you were intentionally trying to get him flustered—and he had to growl a few swears under his breath as he shook out his shirt and pulled it over his head, because damn it if it wasn’t working.

“Hey, Zoro!”

Zoro jolted in alarm halfway through straightening his haramaki, jerking his head to look over his shoulder at Luffy.

Hanging upside down in the doorframe, presumably by his feet from the deck above, given he was holding his straw hat in place with both hands.”Hey, how come you’re red?”

“I’m not red,” he said through his teeth, adjusting his waistband.

“Uh…yeah you are,” said Luffy slowly, tilting his head.

Zoro rolled his eyes. “The hell do you want?”

“Oh, yeah—what’s the deal with the stowaway?” Easily distracted as ever, Luffy launched into a tirade of excitable questions. “Where’d she come from? Did you talk her into joining the crew yet?”

“Yeah,” Zoro scoffed, fixing his swords in place at his hip. “Crew therapist.”

“Whoa, seriously? That’s great!”

Zoro stared at the self-proclaimed captain for a long moment, raising an eyebrow at him. “That…that was joke.”

“Aww….” Luffy frowned, swinging back and forth in the doorframe like some strange clock pendulum. His frown turned thoughtful after a few seconds. “What’s a therapist do, anyway?”

“Give advice for money, apparently.”

“Sounds weird.” He finally dropped down, flipping over to land on his feet in the doorway and straightening his hat before tucking his hands behind his neck. “Could be useful, though. Good for morale.” He gave a resolute nod with that brief assessment, hitting his fist into his opposite palm. “We’re recruiting her.”

Zoro just gave a sigh and shook his head in borderline disbelief—though only borderline, because this was Luffy, and he had already come to expect this level of childlike impulsiveness out of him. He turned to the side to move past Luffy in the doorframe. “Good luck with that.”

Though there really wasn’t much else you could do right now—no one had any idea how you had ended up on the ship, and there was at the present no way for you to get back to where you came from. You were, in a word, stuck.

“Oh, come on, you have to help, too.” Zoro rolled his eyes as Luffy clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re my first mate! And besides, you’ve talked to her more than anyone else.” Luffy nodded as they reached the deck railing, hopping up to sit there. “That’s your first official assignment as my first mate—recruiting a crew therapist.”

“Yeah. Sure thing, ‘Captain.’”

There was really no point in telling Luffy that they weren’t a crew—it fell on deaf ears. Zoro really didn’t have any major issue following him at this point; Luffy had more than proven himself an able fighter against both Buggy and Kuro; had, even if half of it was purely luck, managed to procure them a ship, and protect said ship against a Marine vice admiral. Even if his methods weren’t exactly conventional…they had worked. No one could deny that.

But it was a little more of a stretch to recruit you, when it was pretty clear that you didn’t even want to be there.

And yet you seemed pretty cozy with both Nami and Usopp when you emerged back onto the deck with them, the three of you looking at some rectangular device in your hand. The gaudy costume tricorne hat you had been wearing when you showed up was now on top of Usopp’s head, and you had changed into a black patterned tank top and dark shorts, and at this point Zoro was just doing his damnedest not to even look at you.

“…makes calls, plays music, takes pictures,” you were saying, as the other two stared over your shoulders at the device in clear bafflement. “You really don’t have anything like this here?”

“Den den mushi, but all they do is make calls,” said Nami. “But this thing is—” She shook her head, laughing. “This is weird.”

“Hey, can I—?” said Usopp, holding his hand out, and you shrugged and handed it off to him. He laughed and pushed himself between Luffy and Zoro at the railing. “You guys gotta see this, it’s a cell phone. Hang on, hang on—”

Zoro looked over at the device, his brow furrowing as Usopp tapped at it—and then all three of their faces appeared on the front of it.

“What the f—?”

“Whoa…” Luffy waved his hand in front of it, and the picture on the device mimicked him perfectly. “That’s so cool!”

“Yeah, and you touch this, and…” Usopp tapped a circle toward the bottom of the device. “And it makes it into a picture—”

It—how—?!” Luffy grabbed it from Usopp, gawking at the picture of the three of them. He looked between it and Usopp and Zoro, eyes wide as saucers. "It—it just—? So cool—”

“Yeah, and it saves it, look…”

Usopp touched the device, pulling his index finger across it, and the picture changed to one of him, you, and Nami, with Usopp openly gawking and Nami staring at you in alarm while you seemed to be giggling at their shock. Zoro tilted his head a little as Usopp went on scrolling through pictures, tuning out his explanation that it operated via some weird otherworldly magic called a “battery.” The majority of the pictures seemed to be of you, or of you with other people, maybe family and friends. There were quite a few of you with a younger girl that resembled you a great deal, and just as Zoro had opened his mouth to ask about it, he abruptly found himself unable to form any words at all at the sight of the next picture.

And barely managed to catch the device when Usopp dropped it in equal shock—and barely caught Luffy by the back of his shirt when he nearly fell backwards over the railing.

There was no denying at all that Zoro was more than a little red in the face now—why the hell were there pictures of you naked in the thing?

You and Nami exchanged a glance as Zoro stared off to the side and held the phone out at you, mumbling some incoherent apology that was somewhere between sorry and didn’t know. You made a weird sort of strangled squeak in your throat when you glanced at the screen, and Nami gave a snort of laughter as you shoved it back in your pocket.

Luffy recovered a great deal more quickly, turning and flopping over the railing. “Can we go eat now? I’m starving.”

“What else is new,” Nami commented.

Down on the docks below, Luffy set immediately to his plans to recruit you onto the crew, explaining how they definitely needed a crew therapist for the sake of keeping up morale on long journeys, and you seemed more amused than anything at his antics. “What we really need is a musician, a pirate ship has to have a few good musicians. Can you play music?”

“Well, I played the flute in band when I was in high school,” you said, frowning a little.

“Perfect! Have you got one?”

“Ah…didn’t think to pack one before I got isekai’d into this shit-show, sorry.”

He tilted his head like a curious puppy. “Ise-what?”

“N…never mind,” you said, shaking your head. “Not important.”

Still, he was undeterred, practically buzzing with questions—what was high school, how did this “band” thing work, sports games, what sports? Soccer? As you explained the basics of the sport, also explaining that you weren’t sure because you didn’t exactly play it yourself and Usopp chimed in that he was kind of an expert at it, Zoro lingered behind the three of you, still trying to get the mental image of you sans clothes out of his head, to absolutely no avail—the picture seemed to have imbedded itself into the back of his eyelids.

“You look like a tomato.” He glared over at Nami at her snickering as she pointed between his face and his hair. “Red and green—”

“Shut the hell up,” he growled through his teeth

“She said you turned red when she asked you out, too.” He rolled his eyes when Nami elbowed him in the arm. “So the big bad swordsman doesn’t know how to talk to girls, huh?”

“Shut. Up.”

It normally wasn’t an issue for him, but for some reason it was quickly turning into one with you. How forward you were being about flirting when you had only laid eyes on each other for the first time barely an hour ago, how you had that little smirk any time you did—and that picture definitely hadn’t helped at all. Nami wasn’t exactly wrong, then. You definitely were having an effect on him that he wasn’t used to, but being taunted about it wasn’t going to do him any good.

Nor was nearly walking headlong into you the second that he entered the restaurant, his hand shooting out in reflex and grabbing your waist—and letting go just as quickly.

“Uh—sorry.”

But you were far too busy staring straight ahead as Luffy and Usopp spoke to the host, a little pale in the face, to even seem to notice or hear him. He gritted his teeth a little when he heard Nami give a small snort of laughter behind him, and that did seem to snap you out of your trance, as you looked at her sharply. You leaned to the side a little toward the other girl, eyes still glued to the fishman host, as you whispered, “Wh—what exactly is that?”

“That…” Nami glanced between you and the host, lifting an eyebrow. “You’ve never seen a fishman?”

“I don’t think we have those where I’m from,” you muttered through your teeth, and Nami had to cover a laugh with a put-on cough at your borderline panic. “They—they just—what, half fish half man?”

“Kind of,” she said. She approached the host herself when Luffy and Usopp tanked at their attempt to get a table at the evidently overbooked restaurant, and slipped him a small stack of berry notes, changing the man’s tune quickly. “They’re really not much different from humans,” she said quietly as all of you followed him down the stairs and into the dining area. “They can breathe underwater, though.”

“Can they?” you said, a little weakly.

The host led the group to a large, rounded booth, and Luffy hopped into it first, shifting over to the opposite end. Usopp took the next seat, followed by Nami and you. Zoro glanced between either end of the booth, decided he was probably better off not sitting that close to you, and made to sit down at the end of the booth by Luffy.

And promptly realized that this was going to be impossible with his swords at his right hip, as he got the sheathes briefly stuck between the booth and a few pillars situated next to it. He jerked them back out quickly.

“I’d be happy to check your swords for you, sir,” the host said pleasantly.

He glanced at the man—and briefly at you as he heard you giggle, your hand curled over your mouth to muffle it.

No choice, then. Great.

“I got this,” he said shortly, heading over to the opposite end of the booth. He sat down heavily, adjusting his katana, and made a point of not looking toward you again. The host left you with menus and a promise that your waiter would be with you all shortly, while Luffy leaned toward Usopp and wondered aloud what kind of food they had here.

Zoro, flipped open his menu and set immediately to seeing what kind of drinks they had—because dear god did he need one.

He kept mostly quiet during the brief wait, listening to the others and you discuss the menu. Discuss the restaurant. Discuss the crew—as Nami pointed out once more that they weren’t actually a crew, and Luffy brushed it off as he always did. You seemed more and more interested, and you honestly got along with everyone like you had been there for far more than just the last hour or so, joking around and laughing with Nami, calling Usopp out on one of his bullshit stories without any hesitation at all.

Maybe Luffy wasn’t too far off the mark in trying to recruit you.

The idle chat at the table was interrupted by a commotion at another end of the dining room by a couple of diners arguing with each other, a pirate and a marine lieutenant, with the situation being abruptly diffused by a waiter quickly knocking out both offending parties.

And, of course, Luffy already had the spark of recruitment in his eyes as the waiter approached the table and set down a plate of rolls, speaking in a curt tone.

“Hi. Welcome to our shitty restaurant, where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food.” Luffy made a grab for the plate without any hesitation at all. “My name is Sanji, what can I get for you?”

“One of everything, please,” Luffy said through a mouthful of bread,”

“Any drinks?” he said, glancing around the table. “One of our signature cocktails to help choke down your meal?”

“Giving us the hard sell, huh?” said Nami, leaning back and stretching her arm across the backrest.

Zoro glanced over when he heard you chuckle a little—and back at the waiter as his eyes flitted between you and Nami, his tone and expression shifting immediately as a smile curved at his lips.

“Apologies, ladies. Didn’t see you there. Would either of you care for an apéritif to start? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock.” Luffy and Usopp both looked between you and Nami, and Zoro just crossed his arms, waiting for the idiot to finish. “Or perhaps you’d like a glass of Umeshu? You know…something sweet for someone sweet.”

And the audacious bastard winked.

Nami raised her eyebrows. “Something wrong with your eye?”

“Just blinded by your beauty.”

“I don’t know about my friend here, but I’m not really into sweet things, sweetie.” The waiter’s attention immediately turned back to you, and Zoro glanced over at you as you spoke up—as you leaned forward on the table, curling a hand under your chin, fluttering your eyelashes. “Whiskey for me. Lowball, on the rocks,”

So flirting was your thing, then.

Zoro cleared his throat loudly before the guy could fire back. “Waiter, can I get a beer? And something for my friends.”

“Two beers,” said Usopp. “I usually have three, but—”

“And a milk,” interupted Luffy, raising his hand.

“Water,” said Nami shortly.

“Three beers, one water, one milk, and…” He turned his attention straight back to you again—you, still leaning forward with your elbow on the table, your chin resting against your knuckles, your lips curved into a small smirk. “One whiskey, on the rocks? Any particular preference, madam?”

“Whatever vintage you recommend,” you replied coyly—and then you winked.

And his smirk only widened at that as he turned to leave. “Right away, madam.”

Zoro glanced over at you slowly, his eyes shifting between you and the departing waiter, lifting an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes over to him, still smirking. “Yes?” you said, waiting for him to respond.

“Nothing.” He rolled his eyes—it still seemed very much like you were doing this on purpose, toying with him just to get a reaction.

And if you were....

He rolled his eyes back over to you, “Madam,” he said sarcastically. “Forgive my rude behavior, madam. Would madam prefer her whiskey in a crystal glass, or would a golden bowl be more madam’s style?”

There was a fair bit of chuckling around the table. Nami nudged your shoulder, and you leaned to the side, your smirk widening into a grin as she whispered something behind her hand into your ear. You straightened back out, your eyes glinting with mischief as you met his gaze and laid your hand lightly on his bicep.

“Aww, you’re not jealous, are you?” And you only leaned in closer, laying your temple at his shoulder and fluttering your eyelashes again, and he immediately regretted opening his mouth as he felt his face heating up. “Should I tell our handsome waiter that you wanted to be flirted with too?”

“Wh—what—”

And the chuckling around the table turned into hearty laughter, as you pulled away and leaned toward Nami instead, leaning into each other as the pair of you more or less cackled at your quip.

He was taking all of this way too seriously—and the sight of you laughing like that, despite how desperate your situation was, made him smile a little. Made him laugh a little himself, tilting his head back against the backrest of his seat at the booth, and speak up amid the laughter, almost affectionately.

“I hate you guys.”

#opla #one piece #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro opla #zoro one piece #fluff #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction

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theonespoopyghost · 7 months ago

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Chapter 6: School Visit

Kikuko returns to her school, and faces several setbacks.

Contains the following updates:

2A - The Morning After 2B - School Intruder 2C - Passing Notes In Class 2D - Hidden Faces/Stranger In The Mirror 2E - Recap Episode (With Localization Censorship)

~~~ .oO◯Oo. ~~~

2A - The Morning After

You wake up to find sunlight in your face, and scramble to a seated position. It's mid-morning, you're late for school!

And then you realize you were lying upside-down in your futon, and you have a crystalline purple ring on your finger. Your heart sinks.

Looking out the window, across the rooftops in daylight again, it's even harder to believe you're a ghost now. Everything looks so… normal. You step over to your closet and open it up, wondering if you should change out of the sweater vest and skirt… though it's not like it matters; the only people who would see you are the stranger and death, and you don't honestly care what either of them thinks of your wardrobe. Deciding there's no point in changing (and realizing doing so runs the risk of scaring people with magically floating clothes) you quietly step outside your room.

It being mid-morning, your family are likely all at school and work, but you opt to be cautious in case someone's taken leave to… mourn you. That's still uncomfortable to think about. Regardless, the caution soon proves unnecessary; a thorough hunt of both floors proves you've got the house to yourself.

What to do?

Be lazy (Just stay home, do some drawing and try not to think about your present situation. You're dead, you've earned this.) Talk and learn (Use your ring and call up the stranger; you want to ask some questions.) Go to school (Follow Midori around. Now that you're aware of her existence, you want to learn more about her.)

~~~ .oO◯Oo. ~~~

2B - School Intruder

After grabbing a bowl of cereal (and then realizing that as a ghost you probably don't need to eat… and then realizing you don't care; you want some comfort food, dammit) you mull over your options. Part of you is really really tempted to just spend the day at home and do nothing in particular… but nah, if Death or the stranger show up needing you for something, it could be a pain if your family comes back. The stranger… maybe you could call them up, get some answers out of them. There's still so much you don't understand… But no, you decide; you're still having trouble wrapping your head around yesterday's revelations; no need to add even more to the pile just yet.

Your thoughts drift back to school, and Midori. Normally you're not exactly the type to be terribly concerned with other people's business, but in this case, it does involve you in a way… and frankly, on some level you're just plain worried about her.

After washing the dishes and putting them back away, you slip out the laundry room window again, leaving it like you found it last night, and head to school. If the walk last night was strange because of the darkness, now it's even weirder because of how normal everything seems. You didn't bring your bag, figuring you wouldn't need it, and the lack of the familiar weight of your textbooks leaves you feeling like you could float away altogether.

Can you float? Something to ask the stranger, or probably Death, next time you see them.

Soon enough you arrive, pushing through the front doors and hoping it'll be chalked up to heavy winds or something. (There's barely any breeze today.) Fortunately you're between class periods, so there's nobody around to see.

Checking the time, you find that it's a quarter to eleven; homeroom is well over by now. You struggle to recall what other classes you shared with Midori - the vague recollections of her watching you were at different times, you're sure of it, but since you never really thought much of it, you're not sure now where to look.

You consider sneaking into the offices and trying to find her class schedule, but between the inconvenience of dodging around the teachers to do so, and the sheer creepiness of such a move, you instantly dismiss the thought. This is already weird enough without getting into her private information. You may be worried, but you're not about to turn into a full-fledged stalker on her behalf.

Instead, you ultimately settle on a more passive plan - visiting your usual classes, knowing you'll have to cross paths with her eventually. Even that strikes you as a bit sketchy somehow, but it's too late for second thoughts. And so it is that you head up to the third floor, to find your history class.

The door's closed firmly (and you doubt you can use the wind excuse to enter) but on the upside, there are windows bordering the hall that let you look in without any trouble. You find your own spot easily; the sole empty desk, (you suppose even the time for the customary white chrysanthemum in a vase has passed you by,) nestled near the back corner and looking out over the school grounds. From there you search for Midori in the rows behind you, but she's not there, or really anywhere in the classroom. You evidently just never had this class together.

Alright, maybe you should try sweeping the school for her? Again, that option feels uncomfortable somehow, and not every classroom has the hallway windows like this one. Besides, it's not long now before the class period ends; you can afford to wait a couple of minutes. Sitting down against the wall, you idly wish you'd brought your sketchbook…

Soon enough the bell rings, and you hear the other students start to shuffle about. And then suddenly the hallway is flooded with people, and you do your best not to bump into anyone. There are a few mishaps, but fortunately the crowd is thick enough that nobody realizes there's an invisible dead person among them. Soon enough you're deposited in your next class, quietly taking a seat at your usual desk, and glance about. Aha! Midori's come in just a little ways after you, taking a seat in the back row, one column over, and is setting out her books. You've found her… so now what?

What do you do?

Get her attention... somehow -Write a message in the corner of her notebook --"Thank you for caring" Just wait and observe for now

~~~ .oO◯Oo. ~~~

2C - Passing Notes In Class

You want to talk to her; isn't that why you came in the first place? But the question is how to do so, given your current state. You can't whisper in her ear, given that you screamed in your brother's face last night without him noticing. You could maybe transform and speak to her, but not in public; you'd need to wait until she's on her own again.

You continue to mull this over as class begins; the math teacher lectures about something or other, and you pay about as much attention as you normally did, which is to say very little. You attempt to observe Midori, but she's taking notes intently, head down enough that her bangs hide her face. You can't read her like this, and you can't think of any way to get her attention that won't disrupt the rest of the class.

"Kazane-san, please come to the board and do sections 4 and 5." Your ponderings are interrupted as Midori stands to do so. She breezes through the problems quickly and easily, and the scratching of the chalk gives you an idea. Hesitantly, you slip over to her desk, and find her notebook lying open. You're not sure what you expected to see, but the completely normal class notes with not a single sign of the previous night's turmoil scares you somehow even more than any alternatives. Grabbing the pencil and glancing about to make sure nobody is looking your way, you scribble a brief message into the margins.

Thank you for caring.

That done, you sneak back to your own seat (You could just walk back normally since nobody can see you anyway, but it feels appropriate somehow) and watch as she finishes the last equation. She turns and bows, giving the class a shy smile, and you find yourself freezing up. Much like with her notebook, she seems frighteningly normal despite all that's happened, and you're not sure what to think anymore.

She returns to her seat as the teacher calls someone else up to the board, and you watch her every move intently. She doesn't seem to notice your message at first, looking back over her notes with a frown, ready to flip to the next page… and then she spots it, going still. She glances up and around the classroom, and you see her eyes are wide with confusion. She looks back down at the notebook for several long moments, before her gaze slowly lifts toward your desk. Victory.

After that, class progresses normally, and you're wracked with nervousness as she returns to her note-taking without any further indication she is aware of your presence. Did she not notice after all? Does she maybe think it was a prank played by another student? Or did she see and is just ignoring you?

Your worries are only put to rest once class ends; Midori is one of the first to get up to leave, and she drops a piece of paper as she passes your seat. You snatch it up before anyone can see, hiding it against the desk's underside until the room has mostly cleared, before surreptitiously unfolding it.

If you're really here, meet me at the roof gardens over lunch.

Your school is one of few that permits students on the roof, albeit only because of the double ring of fences around the edges, and it somehow turned into the territory of the Botany Club, to the point that a sink, garden shed, and a decent-sized plot of dirt were installed a few years back. You'd heard rumors that in return, the club contributed certain crops to the school lunches, but you frankly doubted they actually had the resources to do so. Either way, it's a fairly nice spot, but thankfully usually pretty empty during the upcoming lunch period. You're worried the club members may be taking their meals up there, but you suppose that's a bridge to cross once you've reached it. So it is that you slip out the door on the heels of the last student, and make your way up to the fourth floor; the roof access stairs are separate from the main staircase.

Unfortunately, you run into a roadblock on the way; the crowd clumping up ahead with no way to easily get around. You hesitantly push your way through the blockade on one side, only to come to a halt yourself as you see what's stopped them. The art club room door is ajar, and you can hear yelling from inside; a moment later, a desk and chair comes flying out the doorway, crashing into the opposite wall and leaving a dent in the plaster, before settling to a halt in the middle of the hall. A moment later, someone storms out after, stomping one foot down on the chair and glaring at the assembled crowd.

It doesn't take long to recognize her; Akashi Hotaru is the other big reason you never joined the Art Club. With a skirt that stretches down to her ankles in violation of the rules, a too-small serafuku that leaves her tight abs exposed, the spiked bracelets and choker around her neck, and her sleeves mostly torn off at the shoulders, she's an intense throwback to the classical Sukeban Delinquient, especially with her ever-present bamboo staff. Her reddish-pink hair is tied back in a long ponytail that spools down to just above the floor, and she wears a constant sneer.

When she first arrived, many thought her appearance was some sort of joke, but she quickly proved herself to be genuinely terrifying, singlehandedly thrashing the soccer team bloody when they tried to go after her; three of the boys had even missed a few weeks due to hospitalization. After that, nobody dared invoke her wrath, and even the teachers seemed hesitant to attempt to discipline her. You yourself had done your best to avoid so much as being in the same room as her, and when she'd 'joined' the Art club, (reportedly, simply walked in one day and plunked down without having done the paperwork, glaring at anyone who looked like they'd challenge her presence) that had been the nail in the coffin of your already-wilting desire to join.

"ALRIGHT!" she roars, pointing at a huge gash through the desk, which you realize suddenly was the one you accidentally vandalized last night, during your fight with the corrupted spirit. "WHICH OF YOU FUCKS BROKE MY DESK?"

Another boy walks out of the art club room, cowering but trying to speak calmly. "I'm sure it wasn't intentional; someone might have accidentally knocked something over onto it."

His attempts to placate the situation backfire, as Hotaru grabs him by the throat and pulls him close, hissing in his face. "Oh, I'm suuure it was just an accident. You've always been tryin' to git me kicked out of there, haven't you? I'm sure this was 'yer doing, Daido! Well, now you've gone TOO FAR!" She raises a fist, he whimpers, and you feel your stomach drop.

What do you do?

Intervene. (You're terrified, but this is indirectly your fault. You may be a little late to the meeting with Midori, but maybe if you can use your ghostly invisibility to throw Hotaru off, you can stop her from killing this other kid. Plus, didn't you face so much worse than her last night…?) Indirectly Intervene (Pull the fire alarm; it should be a good distraction to Hotaru without making you late.) Ignore it. (You did nothing wrong, and you don't want to get on her bad side even now that you're dead. You have a meeting to get to, anyway, and this makes for a good distraction...)

~~~ .oO◯Oo. ~~~

2D - Hidden Faces/Stranger In The Mirror

You freeze, uncertain. Thoughts flash in your head, a debate raging within. You feel responsible on some level for this boy's predicament, but all the same, you know you can't afford to miss this meeting. Plus, even with your invisibility, it would be hard to intervene without bringing attention to yourself… and Hotaru could probably find some way to make you double-dead, if she really wanted to.

Still, you can't quite bring yourself to leave the scene of impending violence, and cast about for any possible solution. You quickly notice a small red circle set into the wall - a fire alarm. It's out in the open and much too close to where Hotaru is threatening Daido, so even if anyone else noticed it their reluctance to take that route is understandable. Still, you don't have that problem, do you? After another moment of hesitance, you slip out of the crowd and step up to it. At the same time, Hotaru throws her first punch, a harsh smacking sound from behind making you wince.

And then you press the button. A brief moment later, an ear-splitting beeping fills the hall, with periodic blinding strobes from the alarm lights. The crowd murmurs and begin shuffling vaguely in the direction of the staircase, but most of the attention is still on Hotaru. She looks up at the alarms with a snarl, but after a second her expression evens out, and her grip on Daido's collar slackens. "Git out of my sight, ya pansy." She mutters, shoving him away, and he's quick to flee. After that, everyone else disperses much more quickly, and soon enough you're left in the hall, alone with the broken desk and Hotaru.

The delinquent girl seems oddly unconcerned with the alarms going off, taking a moment to just sit down, pulling a packet of cigarettes out of a pocket, before shaking her head and putting it back away. Despite yourself, you creep closer, a morbid curiosity overtaking you. It's like a transformation has taken place; mere moments ago she was all coiled tension and brash violence, but now she just looks… tired. "What am I doing?" She asks herself rhetorically, just quietly enough that you barely hear it over the alarm noises. She turns to the desk with a questioning expression, running a hand along the clean cut through the wooden surface. "Not like he coulda done this anyway." She bangs a hand against the surface in a sudden fit of frustration, causing you to scurry back a few steps by instinct, but her next words only confuse you more. "And it's jes' a dumb desk anyway. What was I doing?"

With that, she stands back up, her uncomfortably vulnerable expression once again vanishing beneath a disgruntled scowl, and she flips the bird at the still-blaring alarms, muttering darkly to herself as she ambles past you toward the stairs. You stare after her, not so much confused as entirely unable to comprehend what you just witnessed.

Then the door to the roof access stairs opens up, and you remember who you came for. Dashing quickly over and taking up position, you wait as a handful of Botany Club members pile out, looking around as if expecting to see roaring flames. While they sprint over to the main staircase, Midori follows behind much more reluctantly, glancing back up the narrow staircase as if expecting something. You're not really sure how to handle this, but ultimately you just settle on being direct; grabbing her gently by the arm and turning her back around toward the roof access. She startles at the sudden contact, but calms down quickly, allowing herself to be led back up and out onto the roof.

It's much quieter here; you can still hear the alarm blaring below, but it's muffled now, even more so once you close the door. Midori looks about, with a guarded expression and her arms crossed over her chest. "So I'm guessing there's not actually a fire," she says. Clever girl.

"Yeah, there was something that came…" you begin, before realizing she can't hear you, "…up. Crap."

Accompanying Music

After several moments without hearing your response, she impatiently strides over toward the garden sink, an outdoor basin with a mirror on one side of the little stairway building. "I better not be up here alone," she grouses aloud, and her grumpy tone, strangely enough, is what helps to calm your nerves. The way she appeared so normal in class, compared to her dark mood the previous night, was… unsettling.

You drift closer to observe as she turns on the faucet and runs her hands beneath the water, before abruptly splashing them into her face. Pulling a handkerchief from a hidden pocket in her skirt, she wipes away foundation to reveal the dark circles still beneath her eyes. She then pulls out a small makeup kit and sets it on the edge of the sink, ready to reapply fresh and hide her feelings once more.

But instead of starting on that, she looks back up into the mirror to see you standing behind her, a couple paces back. Without thinking, you give a shy wave, but your focus is more on her reaction. You're not sure what to expect, but her eyes simply widen a touch, staring to take in all your features. She glances back over her shoulder to see you directly, but of course she can't. So with a nod and a sigh, lowering her head, she speaks again. "So you were telling the truth. I mean, I never even said your name, so how would you have known it? But I still… I didn't want…"

You aren't sure what to say, and you know she wouldn't hear it anyway. Instead, in a mirror of the previous night, you step closer and put a hand on her shoulder, hoping it will provide some sort of comfort. She shudders at the sensation and you immediately pull back, but she shakes her head. "Don't…" You hesitantly reach forward again, only for her to grab and pull you into a tight embrace. You try to imagine how this must feel for her, holding seemingly nothing but thin air, but you can't quite picture it. Either way, you hesitantly return the hug, feeling her rapid heartbeat and letting go only once she does the same.

Straightening back up again, a mix of emotions are playing across her face now, tears streaming slow but steady down her face, but somehow the tiniest of smiles breaks through. "I don't even know how this is happening, but… you were right. This doesn't have to be a bad thing. Even if you are… you know… we can see each other and work together and-"

Abruptly, she blushes in embarrassment, crouching down and covering her face. "Oh nooo, everything I said last time- You know I- oh no no no no nooooo…" You shift uncomfortably, realizing what she's referring to. You've been so focused on your issues and her feelings, that you still haven't put any thought into her feelings towards you. This could be bad. What if you do something wrong now, you don't even know if you're ready for something like that, and that's without even the ghost factor…

Your own rising panic is interrupted as she stands up, expression suddenly calmed, albeit still a bit hesitant yet. "Look, I… I meant what I said, and I don't know how you must feel about that. Sorry if you're creeped out by me. Or… or maybe you're okay with it?" She sounds hopeful for a second, but instantly shuts that down. "I don't know. But either way, I think it would be for the best if we both just… set that aside, for now. There are bigger issues to deal with, and I… Right now, I don't think I'm in a place where it would really work right. And I mean, I don't even know if you're even into girls, and…"

She sighs in frustration. "…I don't even know if you're still standing there, or ran away." You awkwardly tap her hand to announce your presence, and she jolts in surprise. "Okay, that's going to take some getting used to." Returning to the mirror so she can see you, she tilts her head to one side. "You haven't been talking at all. But you did last night. Why is that?"

How do you answer this?

Method

Transform and talk. (It would allow you to explain your circumstances clearly, but even if you two are relatively isolated at the moment, it still feels risky...) Remain as you are. (This way feels safer, and you can try to pantomime or write on her back or something, but it could lead to misunderstandings…)

Explanation

Tell her everything. (About dying, the Stranger, Death, meeting her, the corrupted spirit, everything.) Tell her most of it. (Explain about how you came to be a magical girl, but maybe leave out that you're also working for the grim reaper on the side.) Tell her very little. (Just explain how things work with being a ghost, but don't get into personal details.)

~~~ .oO◯Oo. ~~~

2E - Recap Episode (With Localization Censorship)

You frown at her thoughtfully, trying to figure out how to explain the specifics of how your ghostliness works. You consider maybe writing in the dirt of the garden nearby (too messy, and hard to hide afterward) or tracing letters into her back (too… intimate, for lack of a better word) or just writing in her notebook again, (though it looks like she didn't bring it up with her.) but ultimately you just don't have the patience for that right now. Holding a finger up to indicate she wait a moment, you run over the the fence and peer through at the schoolyard; everyone is lined up down there, waiting for the alarm to be turned off. It doesn't take long for a pair of shiny red fire engines to pull up with loud sirens and flashing lights. Perfect. While everyone's attention is on the vehicles down below, you run over to the other side of the roof and quickly transform.

"Sorry about that," you say, before Midori can speak up. "Wanted to make sure nobody was looking up when I did this."

She doesn't respond at first, and you turn to face her. Where she had remained relatively calm seeing you in the mirror, she's gaping at you now, composure torn to shreds. Her eyes are glistening wide, mouth hanging open in a small o shape, and her tears are already making a comeback to run down her blushing cheeks. Oh right, that. You fidget uncomfortably under her stare, trying to avoid meeting her eyes. "Uh… K-Kazane-san, are you…?"

Clarity returns to break her trance, and she averts her gaze with a shameful face and a muttered "Sorry." Taking a seat at one of the benches overlooking the garden, she sets a lunchbox that was waiting there on her lap and begins eating quietly. "I saw you like this yesterday, so it really shouldn't be throwing me off now. I'll deal with it. Sorry for making things weird again, right after I'd said we shouldn't make things weird."

"It's fine," you say quickly, though you're not sure it is.

Nodding in acceptance, she changes the subject. "Anyway, you still haven't answered my question. Why weren't you saying anything until just now?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, I did, but you couldn't hear me since I wasn't transformed like this. Another side-effect of being a ghost, it seems. At least transformed I can be seen and heard, but even then I'm still not actually… alive." You pause a moment, then in a dry tone add, "It's really inconvenient."

Midori pauses in the midst of savaging her lunch to giggle at the understatement, and it seems this is what lets her finally relax, tense posture slumping back in her seat as she lets out a shuddering sigh. "I was being serious," you mutter, but find yourself giving a small grin as well.

After a few more moments of comfortable silence, (aside from the alarm beeping in the background) she turns to you with a curious expression. "So, I don't want to pry, but how did you end up like… this?"

You take a moment to think that over, and gather your thoughts. Your first instinct is to be secretive, to just say as little as possible… but no, after all she shared with you yesterday, you should return the favor. That being said, you decide to leave out the bits about Death and the corrupted spirit; it would probably be information overload again, and you don't want to create any inconsistencies with what you told the stranger.

"So, you already know I… died… at the library." Is that ever going to get any easier to say? "When I woke up as a ghost, it was already the funeral yesterday. It was at the cemetery afterward that I met the stranger, and they made their offer."

"And you accepted right away?" She's got you fixed with an odd look now, a mix of confusion and admiration that deepens your self-consciousness.

"Well, it wasn't for altruistic reasons or anything," you hurriedly explain, before she can get the wrong idea about you. "It just sounded like something to do, better than just sitting around my grave all day." She simply tilts her head, nonjudging, and nods for you to continue. "So yeah, picked my ring, and then, ah…" right, you're skipping over Death. "And then I went home for a little while, until they came back to get me to help you deal with that monster."

"You did most of the work, honestly," Midori mutters, unconsciously reaching for her bruised side. "I'm going to have to do better next time."

"I didn't know how to bandage the man up afterward," you deflect. "I was glad to have you there." Before she can try to refute or qualify that, you press on. "After that, I… uh, followed you, since you did look kind of familiar, and… you know what happened."

"Sorry." She instantly says. "For dumping all of that on you, then getting pissed when you tried to tell me who you are." Looking down at her fist, clenching and unclenching in her lap, she adds, "I tend to be like that a lot. It was unfair of me…" She peeks back over at you through her bangs, then sighs. "But you don't need to hear even more of my problems. What happened after that?"

"Right. After that, I just kind of…" you pause again. "Went home. Or something. Didn't realize ghosts needed sleep." Yeah, that sounds good. It isn't technically lying, just… leaving out a detour. "Then today, headed here to talk to you. And well, here we are, talking."

"I see," another nod of understanding. "Though… why the fire alarm?"

"Ah, that. You know Akashi-san, right?" She shudders slightly at the mention of the delinquent. "There was something of a run-in; she was going after one of the other members of her club, I think. I wanted to make sure I got up here in time, so I set that off to distract her. It seemed like a good idea at the time, anyway… What?" She's unsuccessfully attempting to hide a sudden smirk. "I mean, I only did it because she was in the way, and I was partially responsible for what got her riled up in the first place."

Your attempts to dismiss the situation only backfire, and she lets out a low giggle. "You really are a good person, aren't you? I'm glad."

Your discomfort only grows, and you find yourself playing with a crease in your dress that refuses to flatten out properly. "...I guess," you say, if only to get her off your back. "Anyway, that's pretty much it for my side of the story." Barring glaring omissions, you mentally add. Even if you stand by your reasoning for leaving it out, you still can't suppress a slight bit of guilt.

You both lapse back into silence, interrupted only by a slight grumble from Midori's stomach that leads her back to finishing up her lunch. It takes a moment to click, but the realization is swift and unpleasant - the silence was uninterrupted this time. "The fire alarm's been turned off. The firemen will probably come up here soon!" Oh crap oh crap this is a problem, you can just detransform but if they come up and find Midori she'll probably be in a lot of trouble maybe you can scale the fences and float her down to the ground but you'll definitely be seen and you don't even know if you can actually float yet and-

Midori, meanwhile, takes the more practical route, grabbing a shovel and wedging it against the door's push-bar. "That should buy us a little more time. You're already transformed, can you call up that shadow person?"

You blink. "Oh, yeah, that's a thing. I've got it covered."

However, before you can actually press down on the ring, a door rises up from a crack in the roofing, and the stranger steps out. "Yes, yes, I'll let her know," they say to someone on the other side, before shutting it behind them and turning to you. "Hello."

"Good timing," Midori says quickly. "We were just about to alert you."

"Oh, you're here too! That's convenient." The stranger nods. "Though why the alert, is there an emergency? If there were any magical happenings it should have been detected by now, but the only thing we saw was the burst from your transformation. I was going to talk to you about that, actually…"

"No time for that!" You blurt out. "There are firefighters on the way here, and no fire. Can you open a door to somewhere… not here?"

"Uh… certainly." Despite their confusion, the stranger complies, raising another door in place of the one they arrived through. "There is something I wanted you to do, anyway. Will it just be one, or both of you leaving?"

You glance over at Midori, and she shrugs. "I could bluff my way out of trouble, if need be, but… well, I'd rather not have to. Let's go."

The stranger opens the door, and you step through to find yourselves a mere two blocks away from the school; a safe distance to avoid the commotion, but still relatively close. You hear someone banging on the stairwell access door, but the stranger shuts their own door immediately after, and the three of you are left in the middle of an empty street.

"So what's this favor you wanted me to do?" you ask.

"The man you fought last night has awoken in the hospital. I wanted you to go talk to him and find out if he remembers anything about what happened, or what might have been the cause for his transformation," the stranger explains. "A fairly mundane task, but a potentially useful one. I know when the rings are used to purify someone or something, you get bits of memory, but they tend not to be very enlightening, so it's often good to follow up."

Exchanging glances with your partner again, a thought occurs to you. "So you needed both of us, right? I wouldn't really be able to talk to him on my own as a ghost, and being transformed like this wouldn't exactly escape people's notice." You can feel the stranger staring at you, and belatedly add "Don't worry, she knows already."

"I'm right here, you know," Midori says, but without any bite.

The stranger pauses, thinking, before giving a curt nod. "I wouldn't share this information around so freely with the others. It's been difficult enough to convince them to join without adding that one of the members is deceased. But, I suppose the damage is done here... Anyway, back to the matter at hand; the idea was that you would be able to sneak in as a ghost, and then transform to talk only once you're in the room with him and there's nobody else around." You have to admit it sounds like a valid plan, but the idea still leaves you uneasy.

"Well, having me there to facilitate things could have its own advantages," Midori points out. "Yukimura-san would be able to remain as a ghost, and using visiting hours as an excuse, I could ask the questions for us both. That way, if a nurse barges in or something, there's nothing suspicious."

The stranger nods. "However, you still do have educational attendance requirements during these hours, correct? As does the third girl. The reason I called on Yukimura-san specifically was because she had no such obligations."

"Wait, third girl?" Midori asks.

"Ah, yes. Varma-san joined late last night, sometime after you two finished your fight. I considered her as an option too, but she is similarly occupied."

You mull the situation over, and a few different possibilities present themselves to you.

What do you do?

Go alone (Midori can slip into the back of the crowd before they go back inside and hopefully avoid any major questioning, while you follow the strangers' plan of sneaking into the hospital to speak to the patient, albeit with risk of detection...) Go together (Bring Midori with. Communicating through her greatly reduces any chance of misunderstandings at the hospital, though her absence from school may raise some questions...) Go later (Have Midori go back and wait until school ends and go together, possibly with this third girl as well; and in the meantime, you can ask the stranger some questions. Visiting hours end soon after, so you may not have as much time to talk with the patient, though…)

~~~ .oO◯Oo. ~~~

Previous Chapter - Main Index - Episode Index - Next Chapter

#my post #magical girl #magical girl phantom ascension #mgpa #episode 2 #characters:#kikuko yukimura #midori kazane #hotaru akashi #michacaxiΞoatl~nelchaeΓ #nel #daido-san

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shewritesforlove · 2 years ago

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I reread Diolomatic Relations (x) for the umpteenth time today and had a thought.

Teenage Lan Wangji had a reputation, even back then, for being something of a hard-core disciplinarian. I mean, if I remember write, Nie Huaisang even warned Wei Wuxian to watch out for "Not Lan Qiren, but his prized pupil, Lan Wangji", or something to that effect, on the first day they arrived.

Now yes, that reputation might be only within Lan Sect walls at that point (Nie Huaisang knowing because he'd attended the lectures multiple times), but think about it!

We never really got to see him interact with anyone other than Wei Wuxian in Canon for that time period, and well, Wei Ying has always been Lan Zhan's exception. (Who else managed to get Lan Wangji to draw his sword within minutes of meeting them when No Fighting is one of the Lan Sect rules?!)

So, what if it's even more of a thing than assumed?

Would even be hilarious if it turned into A canon-divergent AU.

Because I can definitely see:

Somebody making trouble and Lan Wangji showing up with that disapproving stoic face of his, only for Wei Wuxian to show up, and Lan Wangji just freezing from the onslaught of "Wei Ying!" pinging in his head, and by the time he remembers the troublemakers, they're long gone

Of course, eventually someone realizes that when Wei Wuxian's around, he sees absolutely nothing else and this is how Wei Wuxian befriends all of the Lan Sect (and probably his entire peer group) all in one go

Only, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian catch on eventually (they might be dense, but they aren't stupid). Lan Wangji would probably find out via the good ole fashioned, unintentional family intervention. Big brother's amusement that he's finally learning to let some of the minor infractions slide... and Wei Wuxian would probably have to overhear some of the Lan disciples talking, getting it literally spelled out for him, for him to figure it out

Dunno if Wei Wuxian would think it all a great joke or if it would be a golden nugget of truth that smacks him in the face, but we all know he'd act on it immediately. And Lan Wangji, well, now he's ready for it. He might still have no idea how he really feels for Wei Wuxian, but he's got one of two options: get stricter or foster a less hostile image, and well, even dense as a brick, Lan Zhan likes Wei Ying

So the counterattack begins: suddenly it's not that Lan Wangji doesn't notice anything, it's that when Wei Ying is around, he dishes out slaps on the wrist. All the while, of course, Wei Ying is determined to see how many of Lan Zhan's buttons he can push before that jade facade starts to crack

In true WangXian fashion, though, things only come to head in the Cold Pool somehow, and ribbons (both blue and red) get involved. I have no idea which verse I'm working with, but accidental teenage handfasting in a cage because of bunnies and ancestors is appealing and amusing (tho, I've never been all that amused by Yin Iron)

Only, they cone out the othersidr United, dammit. They both know what they did and the consequences they're going to have to deal with, because contextually, it wouldn't make sense for Wei Ying to not realize there's something off about the ribbon's meaning (seeing as to test Lan Zhan's "kindness" regarding broken rules, he'd have to pay really, really, close attention to said rules)

And so Wei Ying comes out with a new bracelet and Lan Zhan with a naked forehead, and the scandal shakes the Lan Sect upside down, but it quickly makes for changes--- because I forget what fanfic I read where something similar went down, but in the scene where Jin Zixuan got punched, Wei Wuxian felt the ribbon when be clenched his fist and remembered restraint at the last minute and that is *chef's kiss* beautiful, and so Wei Wuxian gets to stay and finish out the year

And Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji go night hunting when they get that far into the lectures, and Wei Wuxian trips into the baby Lan section at some point because he totally would, and throughout all of this the couple starts earning this distinctly unique reputation: Wei Wuxian is Lan Wangji's only soft spot.

#MDZU #Lan Wangji #Wei Wuxian #WangXian #Fanfic Prompt #Writing Prompt #found this in my drafts

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varnienne · 4 years ago

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At His Mercy

This is for the Citrus Dome's Hybrid AU Collab. It's so late and I feel terrible but life is so hectic for me rn. aflskfj this is my first attempt at writing monster smut so please be patient with me T-T

CW: dubcon, naga!Shinsou, edging, minor degradation/name calling, gn!reader but they have a pussy, I think that's it?

A rodent squeaked as it raced across the ground. You jumped, heart thumping in your chest as you turned at the sound. Brightening your lantern, you glanced around. Nothing. You sighed.

Why did I take this job again? Oh, right. The reckless dumbasses in your party were still healing from the last job. Next time they want to fight an elder black dragon, you’re going to teleport them as far away as possible. Now, here you were, on a solo quest to help pay for lodging and food while they recovered. They owe me for this.

Something pulled at your senses. Frowning, you concentrated on it. No oily malice, but no warmth of light either. You hesitated. Last time this happened, it led you to an abandoned mansion full of strange traps and gifts. Poor Mina was now cursed with a ghost child haunting her. At least you got a new spellbook out of it.

Another tug made you stumble. Guess I don’t have a choice. Slow, hesitant steps, the light of the lantern showed nothing but glistening rock. A cold droplet fell on your hand. You raised a brow, brushed it off, and kept walking. A few more landed on your clothes. What… your gaze moved to the ceiling. Eyes wide, you swallowed thickly. Sharp stalactites dripping with water hung low. Well, if I wasn’t careful before, I sure as hell will be now.

The strange pull coalesced and swelled until it pulsed from ahead. Magic sliced through the air, disturbing the formations above you. Several began to shake. Shit. You pushed off and didn’t look back. Some of the fallen stalactites started to block your path. Throwing your free hand out, magic surged from the pendant around your neck.

“Guiding Bolt!” Light converged into a ball. The ball raced forward, crashing through the rocks. The path was clear. More stalactites fell behind you. One skimmed past your leg. Another just missed your ear. You pushed harder. I’m not gonna let something like this kill me!

Another tremble alerted you to the largest column cracking and starting to fall. If you didn’t hurry it would cover the exit. But the stalactite was falling too fast to cast another spell. You leapt forward and rolled into a ball. The column crashed as you stood, ice shooting down your spine at the echoing thud. That was way too close.

You brushed yourself off and checked your lantern. “Dammit.” The glass was shattered and the last of the oil shimmering in a puddle by your feet. You shrugged. It was cheap anyway. Digging in your bag produced a striking stone. “Light,” you murmured. The stone sparked a few times before igniting, its glow just bright enough to see ahead of you. “Perfect substitute.”

~oOo~

Another hour of walking brought you to a three-way division. The pull surged once more, drawing you to the left path. It had a soft light that radiated with warmth.

The further in you went, the stronger its glow became. A gasp left you at the beautiful geode. Its vibrant purple crystals glittered from every crevice. The pull you felt earlier rippled all around you. This was the source of it. The geode’s aura hummed with a soft trill. Your eyes closed as the soft tinkling echoed in your ears. A smile danced on your lips as the magic enveloped you into an intoxicating high of warmth and comfort. There’s a word for this feeling. What was it again?

Something slithered around your ankles and a deep, timbre chuckle caressed your ears. “Well, well, well. Looksss like I found a would-be thief.”

“A… a thief?” Wait… were they talking to you? Your eyes opened as you tried to sense who was behind you. A yelp escaped your lips as you were lifted from the ground. Now hanging upside down, you stuttered out, “N-no! No, I wasn’t trying to…” But you were. For your client, at least. He wanted a small pouch full of crystals for the village’s power system. “Alright, I was.” Shaky hands waved in front of your face. “But I-I’m sure a few... small ones should work fine.”

The voice scoffed. “That’s what they all said.” Whatever held you up, shifted. You gasped when your gaze met the being who trapped you.

His deep violet scales glimmered with the geode’s light. Bright lavender hair defied gravity in soft spikes. Lithe, sun-tanned skin covered his torso, sloping down into a thick tail that disappeared into the darkness before looping back through the crystals and around your ankles. But what really caught your attention were his eyes. Slitted pupils with violet irises as deep as his scales, a quiet hunger for something you couldn’t place in them.

“Tell me,” he brought you closer, gaze narrowed on you. “What should I do with you?”

You gave him a shaky smile. “Le-let me go?”

The naga laughed. “That was a cute try,” you flushed, “but no. Can’t let you go that easy.”

Maybe if you could focus on another spell-

“What time of year is it?”

You blinked at him. “What?”

Shinsou huffed. “What time of year is it out there?”

“Uh… It’s almost time for the autumn harvests.” Heart pounding furiously, you eyed the growing smirk on his face and swallowed. “Why?”

The naga chuckled. “The villagers only ever send someone down here every few years before winter.” His tail finally lowered you to the ground. Though it coiled further up your legs. “Usually as some kind of sacrifice. Looks like they chose you to be next.”

“Sacrifice?” Escaped as a mere whisper. “What… what happened to the others?”

Shinsou slithered closer and cradled your face in one hand, the other carding through your hair. It loosened your braid and forced your hood down. His smirk turned into a wide smile that showed all his fangs. Another chuckle. You shivered.

“Depends.” His long tongue flicked out. “Do you wanna be eaten?” His thick coils tightened around your body, the pressure soothing knots in your shoulders and back. The softness of his scales relaxed the last of your tension. “Or would you rather face the villagers that sent you here?”

“I…” With your friends still recovering, you weren’t strong enough to fight an entire mob alone. But was becoming food really much better? “I don’t know.”

A strong hand lifted your chin. You glanced into Shinsou’s eyes. Funny. Were they glowing like that before? Or was that the crystals’ light in them? Claws gently slid up and through your hair.

“So, you want to be eaten?” You answered with a breathy yes. He chuckled. The deep tone had warmth rushing to your face. “Just remember, you asked for this.”

You blinked when the end of his tail tapped your nose. It brushed across your cheeks and trailed down to your neck. You shivered. Shinsou’s eyes flashed. His tail uncoiled from around you. Every touch of his scales on your skin sparked heat low in your abdomen. He smiled and finally released you from his coils.

Clothes in disarray, your shaking legs gave out. Shinsou caught you. “Careful now. Wouldn’t want a nasssty spill.”

You gasped. A tremble rippled through you. Shinsou’s hands grabbed your hips as his tail slithered between your legs. It teased you, moving higher and higher. Then it stopped. You rubbed your thighs, trying to relieve the ache.

Shinsou leaned in, breath ghosting over your ear. “If you want to be eaten, beg for it.”

You bared your teeth at him, but he only chuckled. Damn. Then his fangs nibbled at your neck. Fuck it. “Please,” you whined.

He smiled into the base of your neck. “‘Pleassse,’” His tongue slowly dragged up to your ear. Smiling lips barely touching the shell of it, he whispered, “What?”

Breathing ragged, you mewled and grabbed his arms. “Eat me.”

“With pleasure.” His tail brushed your inner thighs and wrapped around your waist. Coils shifted as he raised you high enough to reach your sex, tearing your clothes off. Shinsou set you down on a small pile of his tail. Clawed hands gently trailed down your hips and thighs. Your sex twitched when he pushed your knees apart.

He breathed in deep. Eyes rolling back, he growled. “Fuck. You smell deliciousss.”

Two fingers gently traced over your puffy lips. Up. Over your clit. Down. Barely sliding in. Shinsou teased your sex again. And again. You squirmed, trying to buck your hips onto his fingers. To no avail. A whine sounded from your throat.

“Impatient to be eaten are we?” He tapped your clit then gently rubbed it in circles. Slowly, so, achingly slowly, he leaned down. Breath ghosting over your pussy, he smirked. Then steadily licked up your slit.

You mewled. “Please, make me cum.”

“That’s sssir to you, little slut.” His deep chuckle rippled through you, strengthening the haze in your mind. Shinsou gently thrust into you. It writhed around, searching for that special spongy spot that should be…

Your back arched as your fingers dug into his tail. “Oh, fuck!”

Right there. The naga kept attacking that painfully wonderful spot. Rubbed your clit in faster circles. His fangs gently nipped at your nether lips with every thrust of his tongue. A clawed hand snuck around your thigh, holding your hips still. Shinsou stopped.

You whimpered when he pulled away. “Ah, ah, ah.” He glanced up, juices glistening on his lips. “You haven’t earned it yet.”

Blunt nails dug deeper into his scales as he edged you again. End of his tail slithering around your neck. And again. Fingers ghosting up your sides. Claws flicking across your nipples. And again. Tongue sliding against that delicious spot.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Please sir, can I cum?”

Shinsou gently rubbed your clit. “Don't you want to feel this good all the time?” You whimpered and hastily nodded. He smiled with all his teeth. “Then all you have to do is sssubmit.”

#shinso x reader #gender neutral reader #hybrid au #shinsou x reader smut #shinsou hitoshi #naga!shinsou #naga #my hero academia #boku no academia #mha fanfiction #fantasy au #bnha #bnha fic #mha fic #my hero fanfic #dubcon cw #mild dubcon

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trailshome · 4 years ago

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So, lately my baby brother (he's 5) just keeps managing to find random crayons/markers (no matter how many times we tried to hide it) and continue to covers most of our walls with his "drawings" (removing it is such a pain, trust me) and throws tantrums when we told him to draw on papers instead. What would the gang do if child mc is doing this?😂

Finlay: Will physically pick up child mc and put them at their work-desk with a piece of paper in front of them. Stands over them until MC finally gets the hint that the walls. Are. Not. Paper. Ignores their fits, tells them if they're going to cry then they have to take a nap lol!!

Lesilfae: Freaking out like never before -- his nice paint... covered in marker/crayon... Sends mc to spend some time elsewhere while he pitches a fit that could rival the mcs until the paint is fixed!! Has someone keep a constant eye on mc afterwards!!

Galeon: "Hmm... let's not!" Will speak gently to the mc, and even take their crayons/markers away until they apologize and promise not to color on the walls again. Puts mc in time out or makes them take a nap if they pitch a fit... He's a sweet dad but he won't take bad behavior!! Also no snacks for mc today :(

Hollond: YOINKS the crayon or maker from the mc's hand and makes a show of dumping them all in the outside garbage (don't worry, they'll fish them out when the mc isn't looking). Scolds the mc, puts them in time out, and won't let them have any art materials for a few days. Play outside, draw on the sidewalk with chalk but dammit, leave their walls alone, haha!!

Greta: *insert upside down smile emoji* Isn't mad, but... "dang, dude. we have all this paper and you still wanna color my walls?" kinda just let's them but like, only in their room. Figures she can just paint over it later (a bad idea on her part but oh well)!!

#asks #answered #chara: finlay uldana #chara: hollond ovara #chara: galeon hughes #chara: greta #chara: lesilfae #mc: decorates the walls #the companions: ( ⊙‿⊙)#smooches anon!!

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years ago

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Club Takamagahara (Part 1) Z

This is probably going to be the hardest to shove the MC into to be honest. But I think my premise is good, but let me know what you think!

MC sat on the edge of a mossy cliff that was covered in scrubby, grey grass. Rocks were patched with bright orange lichen that were splashed on like paint. The sea was blue with fresh melt water from the ice caps that defrosted, a pale blue that didn’t quite reflect the sky. You learned that it was the minerals from the earth that gave the sea this unique color. The breeze caressed your dark hair and drew it across your face.

You’re back in Black Swan Bay in midsummer. You feel that it should be night, but like the winter months were dark with the sun never rising, in summer, the sun never set and the sky was always bright. Most people would never understand how a place like this could be so familiar when for them it was like living on an alien planet, but for you, even though the sky was always brilliant in the summer, you could tell the time of day by the level of light in the sky, a technique acquired by someone who grew up with exposure to an eternal day.

You’re not alone. Boots crunched in the pea gravel and approached. They were black, and lined with fur and half covered with a long, black fur lined coat worn by a young man a few years younger than you. He sat down, stretching one leg in front of him and resting one arm on his knee.

He had dark hair like you, but his eyes were a bright gold in his pale face. You always thought they were beautiful eyes, but now you understood what they meant. He had dragon blood flowing in his veins. He turned to look at you.

You remembered him being reclusive, not talking to you much unless it was to exchange witty banter. He was relaxed, always smiling cryptically, never bothered by the nurses or the rules, but never really getting into any trouble either. He knew your name when you met despite never having met you before. He reached up and brushed your hair back with one gloved hand to tuck it behind your ear.

Your expression goes deadpan. “I’m not dead, am I, Z.”

The golden eyed boy’s expression reflects surprise and then breaks into a hearty laugh. He covers his face with one hand while you watch him try to get control of himself, a warm feeling spreading in your chest that teases a smile out of you.

Z finally stopped laughing and sighed wistfully, looking out over the ocean. “I missed you.”

He turned to you again with a look that was affectionate but calculating, like he was holding in a secret but barely. “No, you’re not dead.”

Your smile fades and you turn back to the ocean. “Why not?”

Z reached to one side of him and lifted a thick book in black leather. On the cover, a golden cross was embossed on it, but the cross didn’t look like a crucifix. Instead, it appeared to be on fire, with the flames appearing to be like a dragon’s wings. Z lifted the golden ribbon that marked a spot near the beginning.

He read from the book, his voice rose over the wind and the crashing waves. “And in very deed for this cause have I raised thee up, for to show in thee my power…”

“You’re doing this?”

Z clapped the book shut and it vanished in a haze of golden dust. “I can’t explain everything. The pieces are not in place yet and it won’t make any sense to you. You won’t understand until the very end. That said, I can’t do everything. You had a very close call. So I wanted to warn you not to be too reckless.”

You sit up straight. “You’re alive? Where are you, Z?”

“I am alive but… Like I said, you won’t understand. Just be more careful. Alright?” He’s staring at you seriously. Back in Black Swan Bay, most people ignored his existence, but you felt he was calling you, drawing you to him for some unknown reason. At times, he would just appear next to you, like he was following you around like a ghost. And now you feel lost in those eyes once again in this strange dream world.

“Okay. I promise.”

“Promises are meaningless.” He shook his head. “Just do it.”

You nod again. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“One more, hurry.”

“Why me of all people? Why not Renata or Vera? Or Anton or...”

“Because you were the strongest … second to Renata.” The world started to go dark, like a curtain was falling over the sea, the rocks and the grass. The wind grew still and you felt a bit stuffy and tired. Soon all you could see were those golden eyes.

“And well… you make me laugh.”

You relax into the darkness and for a moment your mind goes blank. But then your mind revives again. “...was that a Roger Rabbit reference?”

“Dammit, MC! Wake up!” He says in a harsh whisper.

Your eyes open wide. Lu Mingfei - not Z - is leaning over your head, appearing upside down in your view, arms on either side of your face. You blink wearily. “Mingfei?” Your voice is hoarse coming out a dry and scratchy throat.

He puts one finger to your lips. “Shhh… You’ve got to stay quiet. No one knows you’re here!” He’s wearing very fancy clothes, the type of suits you see in photos of weddings and official events from magazines that depict life in Moscow. A black suit, a button down shirt with a stiff collar. Diamond studded earrings were in his ears. His hair was swept back and gelled. "If you keep moaning like that you'll get discovered! The walls are very thin and if you’re discovered we’ll be in BIG trouble!" Lu Mingfei was indeed keeping his whisper very quiet.

You’re surrounded by walls on all sides of you, made of dark wood paneling and covered by shelving from floor to ceiling. Your bed takes up the rest of the space. In fact, Mingfei is leaning over you like this because he can’t squeeze his legs between the narrow space between the bed and those shelves. As you look up at him, you can’t help but notice Mingfei’s resemblance to Z. Perhaps if Z had grown older and been able to eat more, he would have grown as tall as Mingfei.

You examine the curve of his eyes and the lift of his nose and squint. You didn’t notice this before because Mingfei does look different, he talks differently, and he acts differently. He doesn’t give off Z’s mysterious, mischievous, and dangerous aura. Z always looked like he had something up his sleeve. It could be good or bad and you didn’t know until you had it in your hand. The way he talked made you want to know however.

Lu Mingfei always looked fearful, reactionary and caught off guard. If Z was the prankster, Lu Mingfei was the pranked. So it was no wonder that you never noticed the physical similarities between someone so different until you woke up from one face to another face.

He sighed, hanging his head. When he looked up again, deep concern was reflected in his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re alright. I seriously thought you were a goner.. If we hadn’t been picked up and taken somewhere they had a nice kit, you probably would have died out there on the street.”

He lifted your hand. A clear IV tube was running from it to a bag of fluid hanging from a hook nailed into one of the shelves. “Where am I?”

“I.. '' Lu Mingfei’s lips pulled down and he looked ill. “Ugh. It’s better you see for yourself. I don't even know how to begin.”

“Caesar?”

“Oh, he’s fine. And so is Senpai. I’m the one suffering here!” He whispered, casting his eyes to one side bitterly.

He held a clean cloth to your hand, and removed the IV and bandaged it. “I’ll give you the rundown of the situation because we’re seriously up a creek. The Hydras are labeling us as dangerous foreign terrorists, gangsters, and everything else under the sun. They’re running the news to look out for us 24/7. If we show our faces anywhere we are absolutely doomed. They have the whole country after us. We can’t use any credit cards, we’ve lost contact with the college and as soon as we try to get into contact with them, Kaguya is on us like a ton of bricks.”

Ton of bricks. The phrase reminds you of the fact that you managed to get a bootleg copy of “Who Framed Roger Rabbit'' and watched it over and over on a TV hidden in a shed. If you could get your chores done quickly, you could watch the movie there without being noticed. “Mingfei… have you ever seen ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit?’ Do you like it?”

“What? Are you feverish?” He put one hand to your forehead. “Please try to focus! This is important! None of us can touch the network because we’re traceable. Except you!”

“Me?”

“Yes. You’re the only one of us with zero internet presence. You’ve never had so much as an email. Almost all the information on you is held by EVA and not even Kaguya can breach her system so you’re more likely to be able to log in and find some way to contact the College without getting caught, so we need you to stay safe. Got it?”

“Yes, Senpai. I understand.” You nod. Z’s warning to you in a dream seemed even more relevant now. He was protecting you by some form of mystic way, but the danger now was so great that even he had to warn you to be careful.

Mingfei stared at your deferential response in shock. “Are you sure you’re alright? I expected you to sneer at me.”

“It’s just… you remind me of someone else just now.” You whisper, you lower your eyes. “I’m sorry if I made trouble with you. I had to do it. I’m glad you’re okay. I’m glad everyone’s okay.”

Mingfei took a deep breath. “We’re all grateful for you too, MC. So don’t worry about anything. Senpai told the boss about what you did in the Trieste. He owes you twice now. There’s no way he’d rat you out in the reports. You’re fine with everyone, okay?”

“Even Zihang?”

“Zihang doesn’t take anything personal.”

There’s a stiff knock on a door beyond the closet. “Little Sakura! You’re needed on the floor!”

Mingfei turned around, his voice squeaking loudly. “Coming!” He turned back to you. “Okay, can you walk?”

He helped you up out of bed. You were wearing a thin nightgown and your feet were a bit wobbly but you could stand on your own.

“Good, Caesar prepped some clothes for you, but I suggest you stay down here for now. I have to go back to work.”

“Work?”

More knocking. “Little Sakura?”

“Why are they calling you that?” You whisper.

Lu Mingfei growled low. “Why is my life so terrible all the time? I don’t know!” He returned his eyes to you. “Stay here okay? The Boss will be back once his shift is over.”

He hurried out of the closet. You notice he’s wearing some sort of shiny loafers. The type worn without socks.

You hear a sliding door open and then shut and then the murmur of a television. Once you were sure everything was quiet, save the very muffled beat of music somewhere above the ceiling, you venture out.

You peer out from the closet into what looked like a bathroom with wood paneled walls and a tiled floor. Three barrels with metal bottoms were suspended over wood fired stoves. A shower was in one corner. The TV in the other corner was on, likely to mask any noise you might have made while you were unconscious. A woman was sitting behind a desk, speaking Japanese, dressed in smart business attire. It looked like a newsreel of the destruction of Chizuru -- the wrecked streets, the firetrucks and the body bags.

You start to think maybe you overdid things a bit. Your eyes scan over the date. You’ve been out cold for 3 whole days.

On top of the TV was a small comb that looked to be made of real ivory and adorned with a blue jeweled flower. Underneath was an envelope with your name on it. Inside the envelope was a note. “I hope the offer of lessons over sake still stands.”

You smile. Of course it did.

Hanging behind the TV was another cheongsam, this time, silver and blue with embroidery of flowers. There’s also fishnet stockings and a pair of blue heels. You take the dress off the rack and step into the shower. Once you were dressed you listened hard to the sounds outside the hall and heard footsteps.

Another knock. And there’s a shouted warning before the door slides open. A short old woman is holding a mop and walks by you as you press yourself to the wall. She’s pulling a pile of logs on a cart. Her ears are stuffed with earbuds and she’s so focused on her work that she walks right by you on the way to the rack where the wood for the stove is held.

Heart racing, you dash out the door.

Outside is a European style promenade, completely different decor, but with the same level of luxury. The floor was covered with golden teak wood. The walls were covered with paintings of naked young people drawing water from a well. The ceiling hung with crystal chandeliers, one after another.

“Wow.” You whisper.

At the end of the corridor was an elevator with wooden doors inlaid with swirling bronze motifs of ferns. You’re supposed to stay put, but so much for that! You probably couldn’t be seen out in the hall! You pressed the only button available on the elevator - Up - and school your face cool to pretend you belong there.

Already a story is in your head, you’re an heiress to a fabulous estate. You’re orphaned at a young age and just gained your freedom to escape your stuffy household! As the elevator rises, the sound of the bassline of the music gets stronger and stronger.

Your mind is still writing your backstory when the wooden doors part and you’re hit by the bass line full force. The heat from hundreds of bouncing and gyrating bodies rushes into the elevator. Right in front of you, a man is holding up a flute of that golden sparkling liquor - Champagne. His shirt has puffy sleeves and open to reveal dark curly hairs on his muscular chest. He’s surrounded by three women in colorful half masks who are climbing on him, grabbing his hands to get at the champagne. They were all wearing skin tight, sleeveless, low cut dresses and dangerously high stiletto heels that made your demure blue cheongsam look like a formal maid’s outfit in comparison.

“Ladies! Ladies! One at a time!” He’s shouting with a brilliant smile. One of the girls bares her teeth as if she were trying to bite him and you move away.

A crowd of people, women outnumbering men 10 to 1, were all dancing in front of a brightly lit stage that was smoking with dry-ice that poured over the edge.

The elevator doors start to close and you slip out, looking for Lu Mingfei - that is, Little Sakura. Everywhere is more of the same. There’s a circular couch where drunk women were reclining over another man while holding out money for passing waiters who seem to know what it meant. They took the cash from their delicate painted fingers and passed them another bottle of liquor in exchange. All of the women turned, shook and then uncorked the bottle, spraying the Champagne in the air! It all fell in a shower while they laughed and squealed with glee!

You take a breath. You were going to stand out like a sore thumb unless you did something right now. The beat of the music was jarring your rib cage but people were bouncing to it while shouting on the stage. “Ukyo! Ukyo! Ukyo!”

You had no idea what Ukyo meant so you do the same all the while looking for any sign of Mingfei in this scene and realizing he might not even be on this floor.

“Who wants glitter?!” Someone shouts next to you. A man with a bowl of silver glitter holds it up while people stuff money in his low cut shirt and press their hands into the bowl to turn around and smash it into the sweaty chest of another man, leaving their marks on him. Your mind makes a leap to a story you heard about human and animal sacrifices in Satanism and wondering if that was what was going to happen next.

You also realize you don’t have any money. Your voice is trained by terrible punishment to be quiet so you can only let out a weak little “Woo..” and “Yay… Ukyou” while your eyes search the crowd.

What happened next was that the music suddenly ended and the sound of a Asian music, something you might hear played in a period drama, replaced it. Rather than being subdued, the crowd flooded the quiet with screams so loud your ears rattled and you had to fight to keep your hands from covering them and stand out as an outsider.

The curtain opened and there stood a lone figure on the stage. The lights all went out, leaving a single spotlight descending to illuminate him. He’s in a white cloak with flowy sleeves, with a blue hakama and long hair that covers half his face. Cherry blossoms blow from an unseen fan, fluttering his sleeves in the wind.

#Dragon Raja

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megacross-ground-zero-rated-r · 4 years ago

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Mission failed. I'm just finding more things to love. God I love the use of red in this film. The red lighting is always *chef's kiss*

The fridge transition shot is still amazing.

AHA, so the weird revolving door thing in Maroon's office has a room full of film reels behind it. I notice the design of the space, especially the detailing on the white walls, makes it look a bit like an amphitheater. The various awards / statues scattered about seem somewhat... Mismatched. They don't seem to have a unifying design feature aside from glass and gold. Various metallic surfaces like a gold lampshade and chrome ash tray stand accent his office, still mismatched. I like the almost heartfelt line about a heartbroken Toon going to peices just like a human would from a cynical studio head like Maroon.

Man, the monorail station bar is way dirtier than I remember. There's just crap and glasses everywhere, a surprising number of which are still full. It's funny that Dolores takes a full shotglass away from Eddie, he waits a minute for her to stop paying attention to him, then he picks up a goblet. I like his excited look he gives her showing off the check. He's proud and wants her to be proud of him. Awww.

The decor in the Ink and Paint Club looks cheaper that I remember. Eddie’s body language sizing up the gorilla bodyguard is confident, he's keeping his distance, but he's not like shrinking back in fear. Yep, Eddie’s expression during the song is still funny. I don't like that excited you're in for a treat look Acme gave him prior. Could do without that. The dialogue through the window, especially from Acme- I'm sorry, it sounds so much like stilted, awkward porn acting. That's way more funny than it is uncomfortable.

Oh, the safe fell upside-down. Greasy's neck appears to clip through the back door of the van at one point. I love that sassy little head swivel Smartass does when he's first introduced. For a moment he looks like he draws his shoulders and heels together as if standing at attention. They're both mugging for the camera a little, tall stance, strutting like they own the place.

"Ugh, dammit, did you hear that line read?" Smartass griped, tapping his cigar on the van's built-in ashtray. "Doooa'an Wooo'ry, Judge. I was drawin' my vowels out like a heffer chewin' cud. I swear, it sounded like a good idea at the time..."

"Hey, boss." Wheezy prompted, smiling. Smartass looks out the window. "Boss, c'mon. Look at me." Another few seconds of silence. Not even an ear twitch. Wheezy laid on the horn, giving it a good long blast.

Smartass jumped two feet out of his seat, banged his head on the ceiling, landed with his paw over his chest, fur puffed, instinctively flattening himself into the corner between door and seat cushion. "What?!" He demanded, despite knowing pretty well what already.

"Deformants." Wheezy hissed back, snickering.

"Shut up and drive." He grabbed the rearview mirror and tilted it down to show his own visage, taking his hat off and smoothing his fur with both paws. He ran his fingers through it, tousling to loosen it up, then swept it back.

Doom has no less than three different clowns framed over his shoulder right after the shoe dipping. He also... He's not stilted and inhuman in his acting here. Has an odd kind of charisma to him. He's deliberately projecting his voice more and more as he talks to Eddie, both attempting to draw attention to their conversation and sounding like he's actually in a courtroom, more as a grandstanding lawyer than a judge.

I like the way Roger drops his gaze and kinda hides his mouth behind a faux-thoughtful finger gun admitting there might be some people who knows where he is. Love the uhuh, uhuh, yeah, that's right, exactly what I thought, you dumbass way Eddie nods at him leaning in to try and get a reaction when he reveals just how many. Roger totally does not notice the implicit intimidation attempt.

I thought I might’ve been a bit harsh describing Eddie’s tone but at least once he snarls like a bear trying to grab Roger. I hate the little tingle I get down my spine when he grits out idiot, I don't have keys for these cuffs. The word idiot is said on an exhale because he's breathing harder... From manhandling somebody... 😯👀👀👀👀

I know this isn't what's going on at all but for like one single split second before he says that Roger's expression looks a bit like bedroom eyes. They're gone the very next instant, though.

Eddie was actually singing to himself pretending to do laundry! 💗 Oh my God, I love this movie. Smartass's jewelry jingles as he leaves Valiant's office! 💗💗💗 Not a fan of how the Weasel's snouts sometimes look like squished sock puppets from certain angles. For real, though, I think Roger's arrival, the ruse he uses to handcuff Eddie, the visit from the Toon Patrol are my favorite scenes. They absolutely nail all of his movements and tics here but especially making him look like a scared little bunny when Eddie raises his voice and the Patrol are bearing down on him, he starts squirming all over the place the more worked up he gets.

Again, I have to reiterate two things. Santino did not sound sorry at all apologizing for mentioning Teddy’s death the way he did. Actually- Just noticed this- He seems almost amused at the idea Roger killed Acme. Second thing, Eddie is taking Jessica’s hands off himself when Dolores walks in. He's not pushing her away, she's stepping back on her own, but still.

#who framed roger rabbit #mini fic

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amanda-teaches · 5 years ago

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Middle of Nowhere

Summary: You take a road trip with your best friend to get your mind off a broken relationship. Will a man living in the middle of nowhere help you do just that?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Square filled: Free Space for @spnfluffbingo, Road Trip for @spndeanbingo, and “We’re sooo over.” “Fine by me!” for @spnquotebingo

Word Count: 3753

Warnings: Nothing major. It’s mostly cute, fluffy fun with a little humor thrown in. A little bit of angst and swearing, but I think it’s barely there.

A/N: A while ago, @supernatural-jackles, was holding these weekly writing challenges with prompts to inspire writers. I saved one of these prompts, even after all this time, and it finally inspired me to write this fic. So thanks, Jen, all these months later, for holding those challenges. They did help! If anyone else is looking for a little inspiration/encouragement, you can find all the weeks here. My prompt was “Hold my hand dammit, we gotta make this look convincing!”

It seemed like the further you got away from civilization, the clearer your mind got, but, even in the outskirts of the middle of nowhere, your mind never seemed to be able to escape him.

“What’cha thinking about?”

You glanced over at your best friend, Becca, who was staring inquisitively at you from across the car’s center console. Shaking your thoughts away, you smiled. “Uh, nothing,” you lied, turning your attention to the long, deserted road in front of you, surrounded on both sides by endless fields of grass. “Just wondering how much longer we have.”

Becca studied you closely for a second before her eyes widened. “Liar! You’re totally thinking about James.”

You blushed and shook your head. “I am not,” you objected, but the shake in your voice betrayed you. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“Y/N,” she sighed, her whole body rising and falling dramatically in a way that was so distinctly Becca, “the whole point of this trip is to get your mind off that...that...that ninny!”

“Ninny?” you smirked, struggling not to laugh.

“Yes, ninny,” she repeated resolutely, ignoring your amusement altogether and plunging on. “Besides, we’ve been over this. Dumping you was his loss. You’re wayyyyy too good for him anyway.”

You groaned. Knowing it was fruitless to argue, you decided to change the subject. “How much longer again, Bec?”

Becca looked down at the gigantic paper map in her lap and unfolded it one more time. “Well, according to this, we just passed a town called...Lawrence, which means that Topeka should be...uh…” She paused, turning the map upside down and her head to the side. “Soon?”

You sighed heavily, rolling your eyes heavenward. “Ugh, I knew we should’ve stayed on the interstate. Becca, we’re lost.”

Becca turned the map over a few more times, her speed becoming more frenzied with each turn. “No we’re not, we’re….” She looked up and let out a sigh. “Yeah, we’re lost.”

“Great,” you groaned, taking one hand off the wheel to pick up your phone. “And, there’s no signal out here. What are we going to do?”

“Just keep driving, I guess,” she said with a shrug. “Wait a second...I think there’s a house up there.”

You looked out the windshield, only just making out the outline of a house in the distance. “So?”

“Sooo, why don’t we stop and ask for directions?”

You let out a chuckle. “Are you serious? You just want to stop at some random stranger’s house in the middle of nowhere, walk up, ring the doorbell, and ask for directions? What if they’re dangerous?”

Becca laughed and shook her head. “Y/N, come on, this isn't the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It’s fine! Let’s just stop. It’s better than being lost for ten hours, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you acquiesced, begrudgingly slowing the car and pulling off onto the dirt off-shoot that led towards the house. As you got closer and the house grew in size, you noticed two men working on the wraparound porch. “Let’s just hope they’re friendly…” you whispered.

Dean looked up at the sound of the car driving up, taking in the small white sedan with a frown. “Sammy, look.”

Sam glanced up at his brother out of habit before following his gaze to the car that had just pulled up. Leaving his sandpaper on the ground, he stood up and brushed his hands on his jeans. “You expecting company?”

“Nope,” Dean replied quickly, stepping in front of Sam with his legs spread, his shoulders squared, and his hands in fists at his side. “Who d’you think it is?”

“No idea,” Sam shrugged, stepping forward to join his brother as the car doors flew open. “But, I guess we’re about to find out.”

The two men watched as a 20-something, attractive brunette woman exited the passenger side. She had a wide smile on her face as she turned to look back into the car, talking to someone as she nodded her head. With a laugh, she spun around and began walking towards the porch steps, but Dean’s attention was drawn away from her to the woman stepping out from the driver’s side door.

She was absolutely breathtaking. Her hair was swept up in a messy bun that was somehow gorgeous and effortless all at the same time, and her simple white t-shirt and jeans fit her perfectly, showing off the curves she had in all the right places. “Damn…” he whispered under his breath, quickly closing his eyes and resteeling himself to hide the effect she’d had on him before she got close enough to notice.

Her friend got there first, bounding up the steps, her smile widening as she got a good look at them. “H...hi….” she whispered, stretching out her greeting, her eyes widening with interest at the sight of Sam. “I’m Becca, and this is my friend, Y/N.” She nodded her head back at her friend, who had stopped at the bottom of the steps, crossing her arms over her chest, just like Dean. “We’re on our way to Topeka and we seem to have gotten a little lost. Would you mind telling us the way?”

“Oh, sure,” Sam said, his smile turning easy and welcoming, drawing Becca in, much to Dean’s dismay. As he talked, Dean chose to ignore him, instead dropping his eyes to look down at the woman’s friend. Y/N. Her name was Y/N, and, judging by the glare on her face, she wasn’t the least bit happy to be here.

He liked her already.

“...yeah, so then once you pass the old barn, you’ll hit the interstate. Easy as that.”

“Great, thanks,” Becca said, lingering to stare at Sam. Dean could even swear he saw her eyelashes actually bat. “We realllly appreciate it,” she muttered, placing her hand on his arm with a wide smile.

As Dean began to roll his eyes, Y/N sighed loudly, practically huffing her exasperation, making him stop to crack a smile. He really liked this one.

“Come on, Bec, let’s go,” she pleaded, her eyes meeting Dean’s for the briefest of seconds before she looked away.

Becca’s face fell in disappointment. “Okay, okay!” she agreed, turning around, yelling back over her shoulder as she did. “Thanks again for your help!”

Dean watched Y/N retreat for a second before smiling slowly and speaking up. “You won’t be able to go that way.”

Becca and Y/N stopped in their tracks, spinning at the exact same time. “What?”

“Yeah, what?” Sam asked, turning towards Dean with confusion in his eyes.

Dean unfolded his arms and stepped forward, resting his arms on the railing. “I was just out that way this morning. The road washed out in last night’s storm. It’ll be at least a few days before it’s passable again.”

Y/N stepped forward, her concern at his words overriding her earlier standoffishness. “What do you mean a few days?”

“I mean a few days,” he answered casually, grinning at her. “The road’s underwater right now, so you definitely won’t be able to cross it anytime soon.”

She huffed as Dean chuckled, rolling her eyes at him before turning her head to address Sam. “Is there any other way to Topeka? Maybe back the way we came?”

Sam shook his head, his eyes turning sympathetic. “I’m afraid not. They’re doing construction on the road between Lawrence and Topeka, so it’s closed for the next month. You’d have to go the long way around, which would take you a full extra day of driving. The washed out road’s the only direct way.”

“Great…” she muttered, throwing her hands in the air as she turned to Becca. “What are we going to do now?”

She shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to head back to Lawrence and find a place to stay for the night.”

“You can stay here,” Sam volunteered, making everyone look his way in shock.

“What?!” Y/N stammered, at the exact same time Becca cried out, “We’d love too!”

In this case, Dean was firmly on Y/N’s side. He stepped over to his brother and grabbed his arm, turning his back to the women and dropping his voice so only Sam could hear. “Dude, what’re you doing?”

Sam shrugged. “They need a place to stay.”

“Yeah, they can stay in town. Just because you’re hot for the brunette…”

“Hey,” Sam objected. “I am not! They just need a place to stay.”

“Yeah, sure, Romeo,” Dean said, stepping away with a resigned shake of his head. “Let’s just turn our house into a quaint little B’n’B.”

Sam ignored him and moved down the stairs. “You’re more than welcome to stay here. It’ll be nicer than any motel you’ll find in Lawrence.”

Becca beamed and nodded quickly. “That’d be great! You’re so sweet to offe...”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Y/N interjected, pulling her friend back. She walked her back a few feet, away from Sam, and dropped her voice. Luckily, it wasn’t low enough that Dean couldn’t hear what she was saying.

“Becca, you can’t be serious!”

“What?”

“We’re not really staying here!”

“Why not? Sam said it’d be nicer than any motel.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s what they all say…How do you know they’re not murderers?”

Dean smiled at that, unable to resist messing with her. “For the record, we’re not murderers.”

She paused to glare at him before turning back to Becca. “That’s exactly what a murderer would say.”

“Okay,” Sam said, stepping forward to interrupt the girls. “I promise we’re not murderers.”

Dean’s grin widened. “Wait, a second, how do you know motel owners aren’t murderers?”

Y/N whipped her head around so fast, he nearly got whiplash. “Oh, shut up,” she muttered, but he just laughed and winked, making her roll her eyes for the upteenth time.

Sam reached his hand out, playing the role of peacemaker. “Y/N, please stay. It’s a five bedroom house, we’ve got plenty of room, and I promise it won’t be that bad.”

Becca shot Y/N her best begging eyes. “Please? It’s only for one night.”

Y/N looked back and forth between the three of them before groaning. “Fine, ONE night, but I swear if we get murdered, I’m so haunting all of you.”

One night somehow ended up turning into five.

Sam and Becca quickly bonded, with Becca making every excuse in the book to stay and play house with him. You’d tried to convince her to leave, given that the whole point of this trip to Toledo was to distract you, but you didn’t really have the heart to make a big fuss, especially seeing how happy she was around Sam, so you stayed.

But, it wasn’t quite what you expected from your vacation. With Becca being all starry-eyed over Sam, that left you spending an awful lot of time with Dean. Less than a week ago, you would’ve thought that was the worst thing in the world, but it turned out to be the exact opposite.

He was weirdly funny, insanely silly, and surprisingly...caring. The first night, you’d been determined to avoid him, thinking the stay was only temporary, but once Becca had run off with Sam, you hadn’t been left much of a choice. And, Dean, Dean was fun. You laughed when you were with him, whether that was grilling burgers in the backyard, helping him paint the porch while he dramatically pretended to fall off of it, or spending the evenings curled up by the fireplace with him, listening to the deepest tracks of Zeppelin.

You tried not to read too much into it, the way you felt around him, relaxed and carefree and just so completely unlike how you’d been feeling for the last few months with James. Maybe it was a good thing he’d dumped you. Maybe, just maybe, a guy like Dean was exactly what you…

“Y/N?”

You shook yourself out of your reverie, glancing up to see Dean staring back at you. He was bent under the hood of your car, his face streaked with oil, looking up at you like you’d lost your mind. “Uh, you ok? You kinda went to a whole different place there.”

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded, looking down at the floor and crossing your arms over your chest. “Just tired, I guess. How’s it coming along?” you asked, eager for a change of topic.

He regarded you for just a beat longer, uncertainty clouding his eyes, before he looked back at the car, choosing to move on like you wanted. “Um, pretty good, actually. I’m just about done.”

He straightened up, wiping his hands on his jeans, and grinned at you. “You know, you should’ve had your oil changed a long time ago. It was like a river of sludge in there. I’m surprised I didn’t drown.”

“Ha ha, you dork,” you laughed, playfully hitting him on the arm. “Besides, not all of us treat our cars better than people like you do.”

“Hey, Baby’s not just any car,” he corrected, feigning offense. “She’s a classic.”

“Mhmm,” you chuckled. “Whatever you say.”

You turned to walk away, but Dean ran to catch up with you, moving in front of you so he was walking backward. “Actually, I was just on my way to wash her. Want to help?”

You stopped walking and looked up into his eyes, thinking about it for a second. On one hand, you knew that the more time you spent with Dean, the harder it would be to leave, but, on the other hand, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to him. “Sure, I’d love to.”

“Great,” he said, his whole face lighting up. He took your hand and pulled you along, and you couldn’t help the blush that sprinkled across your face. He led you around the house and straight into the back garage, where his black ‘67 Impala was waiting. “There she is!” he announced proudly, spreading his arms out wide. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, running your hand across the hood. “She’s beautiful, Dean.”

He studied you for a second, a small smile gracing his face. When your eyes met with his, he frowned and looked away, busying himself with something near his shoe. “Oh, okay, then. Let’s get started.”

He turned to the shelves lining the far wall and grabbed a bucket and some sponges, moving to fill it with water from the nearby hose. Once it was full, he added some soap and handed one of the wet sponges to you. “You take the left, I’ll take the right?”

“Deal,” you agreed, walking over to the left side of the car. You started sliding the sponge back and forth and smiled over the hood of the car at Dean. “So, when did you get this car?”

“A while ago. It was my dad’s. He left it to me just before he died.”

Your face fell. “Oh, Dean, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s cool,” he said, continuing to stare at his sponge instead of making eye contact. “It was a long time ago.”

You watched as he moved his sponge slowly from side to side, lost in thought. You mirrored his actions for a minute, focusing on your side of the car before you stopped. With your attention on the sponge, you formulated a plan, grinning and looking back up at Dean. “Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah?” he asked, but, the second he looked up, a large splash of water hit him in the face, courtesy of the sponge you were still holding in your hand. “Oh, you didn’t…”

“I did,” you nodded, grinning widely as you watched him wipe the soap away from his face.

“Well, you know what that means?” he asked devilishly, raising his own sponge while you shook your head frantically and started backing away. “This is war!”

His last word was raised in an enthusiastic shout, and he took off running towards you, his sponge held out like a weapon. You squealed and spun away, racing out of the garage and back around to the front of the house, but he was faster, easily overtaking you and catching you around the waist, lifting you up into the air. You struggled, laughing as he moved the sponge all over your face and shoulders, soaking you. “Truce, truce!”

His hot breath hit your ear, his hold not lessening. “Promise?”

“I promise!” you laughed, exhaling as he placed you on the ground, spinning you around so that you were facing him, standing chest to chest. You were both soaked and breathing heavily, but that didn’t stop your heart from racing when you realized how close you were. “Dean…”

“Yeah?” he asked, brushing his knuckles down the side of your face, his hand stopping to linger on your neck, playing with the strands of hair that were resting there. You stared up into his eyes and momentarily forgot how to breathe.

“I want…” Your attention was drawn by movement beyond Dean’s shoulder and you raised onto your tiptoes, instantly recognizing the approaching car as it drew closer. “To kill him, oh my God!”

“Me, too...wait, what?” Dean blinked, totally lost, but you ignored him, pushing past him to look at the car.

“I can’t believe he’s here! How’d he find me?”

Dean turned, still trying to work out what was happening as he followed your gaze. “Who?”

You groaned. “My ex, James.” You looked back at Dean, an idea forming in your head. “Quick, you have to pretend to be my new boyfriend.”

He grinned at that, his eyes widening. “I have to what?”

“Hurry!” you rushed, grabbing his arm and pulling him with you up onto the porch. “He’ll be here any second.”

You and Dean stepped up onto the porch’s landing just as the car stopped, and you turned around, yanking Dean at the same time so he was anchored next to you.

“Ouch,” he joked.

“Stop it, he’s coming!”

He smiled and leaned down, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I thought I was a murderer.”

“Shut up,” you shushed him, your eyes falling to his hand. “Hold my hand, dammit, we gotta make this look convincing!”

He chuckled but grabbed your hand anyway. Pulling you in front of him, he transferred your hand to his other one, wrapping both of his arms around you so you were leaning against his chest. Good, he was really selling it, you thought, resisting the sudden urge to breathe him in. Damn intoxicating man scent.

James was nearly to you now, his expression turning into a glare when he saw who you were with. “Y/N, who’s this?”

“None of your business, James. How’d you find me?”

“I still have your find my phone linked,” he said, holding up his iPhone. “Seriously, who the hell is this?”

You frowned, finding the anger you had stored inside. Stepping away from Dean, you confronted him head on. “He’s my new boyfriend, not that it matters. You dumped me, James. I don’t owe you any explanation.”

He pasted a smile on, but you could see the insincerity behind it. Standing in front of a man like Dean, you wondered what you ever could have seen in a man like James. “Y/N, I still love you.”

“Tough,” you snapped. “We’re over. Now, leave and never contact me again.”

He stepped forward. “Y/N…”

“She told you to leave,” Dean said, moving in front of you, his whole demeanor hardening. He crossed his arms across his chest, and, although you couldn’t see his face, you knew his expression must have been more than a little terrifying, based on James’ reaction. You were glad he was on your side.

“I just want to talk to her.”

“Nuh uh,” he growled. “You’re done here. Like she said, she’s with me now.”

James looked at the two of you, suspicion growing. “That doesn’t sound like the Y/N I know, moving on with some creep in the middle of nowhere so fast. I doubt you two are really a thing. Y/N, please, just drop this whole charade and let me explain.”

Dean chuckled, looking back at you. “You hear that? He doesn’t think we’re really together.”

“Yeah, I don’t,” James said, resolutely. “I know Y/N.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” you shouted before you grabbed Dean’s shirt and spun him around, pulling him in for a kiss.

He was surprised at first, you could tell, but he recovered quickly, his lips pushing back against yours with just as much fervor. He moved his hand down to your hip, drawing you closer to him with a growl, and you felt a shock of heat run straight through you. By the time he pulled back, you were breathless. Your hands were tangled in his hair, but you had absolutely no idea how they’d gotten there. Frankly, you didn’t care. All you wanted to do was kiss him again.

You completely forgot you had an audience until James cleared his throat. “Well, I guess you really are together. We’re sooo over.”

Not even taking your eyes off of Dean’s, you smiled, responding freely for the first time in a long time. “Fine by me! Bye, James.”

You heard him get back in his car, but it didn’t even faze you, your full attention on the grin spreading across Dean’s face. You laughed and tightened your grip in his hair. “So…”

“So,” he repeated, trailing his hand lazily up and down the side of your torso, “I guess this means I can’t murder you now, huh?”

You shook your head, laughing even harder. “Wow, you really are such a dork. I can’t believe...” But, he captured your lips before you could finish, kissing you long and slow, lingering like he never wanted to pull away.

“Oh my God, I knew it!”

You drew your head back, turning to find Becca and Sam standing in the doorway. Becca was smiling and practically jumping up and down, but Sam looked just as happy, taking in the two of you together. “I guess this means you’re staying around a little longer?”

You looked up at Dean, seeing the hopeful excitement in his face, and you nodded, intertwining your fingers with his. “Mhmm. I think I may have found what I was looking for.”

His eyes lit up. “Damn, I hope so,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you again, audience be damned.

Dean Tags- @akshi8278 @whimsicalrobots @dean-winchesters-bacon @adoptdontshoppets @alexwinchester23 @squirrelnotsam @deanwinchesterswitch

Forevers- @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @katymacsupernatural @impandagrl @impala-dreamer @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @be-amaziing @jalove-wecallhimdean @there-must-be-a-lock @mysterious-398 @hannahindie @emoryhemsworth @ohmychuckitssamanddean @wi-deangirl77 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @ericaprice2008 @masksandtruths @roxyspearing @squirrel-moose-winchester @sweetpeamoose @babypieandwhiskey @deans-dirty-writer @roxy-davenport @heyitscam99 @spnbaby-67 @mogaruke @atc74 @dolphincliffs @closetspngirl @maddiepants @pinknerdpanda @focusonspn @deanwanddamons @wonderfulworldofwinchester

#spnfluffbingo #spndeanbingo #spnquotebingo #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader

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texasthegreatdestroyer · 5 years ago

Text

Hazbin Hotel Universe x RWBY character cross over, as well as some fictional elements that are unique to my own story that's similar in theme but older than Hazbin's public appearance.

Short Bio and Headcanons:

Qrow Branwen.

He's polygamous: (Mainly because I like to keep my mind open to various ships, as well as I'd like to continue my main OTP which is between him and my main OC.)

Raven is there as well, but they absolutely hate eachother, they just tolerate eachother's existence for the sake of professionalism, as they work together as bounty hunters on a team.

-Qrow's favorite thing ever is Nutty Buddies, this is relevant because one time Raven stole one, and Qrow legitimately Bitch slapped her over it. DON'T FUCK WITH HIS NUTTY BUDDIES DAMMIT! XD

Qrow may have a thing for goth chicks, considering his two current relationships are with a girl who can also turn into a bird named Aero, who wears goth/punk asthetic. (Friend's OC.) And another girl named Texas, who is big tiddied, hellhound, goth gf. (My OC.) No boyfriends yet, unless Tex technically counts because she's a hermaphrodite, but I plan on changing that soon. (Laughs evily.)

Qrow plays Dungeons and Dragons: Qrow plays as a light purple tiefling named Intiko (Indigo in Tamil) who is a home brew class known as escort. (Weaponized male prostitute.) Raven plays as Intiko's twin sister who is a Dark purple Tiefling, named Aristarus, Aris for short, a complete mad lad and agent of chaos who is a warlock.

So any of you who've heard of Hazbin Hotel knows that the story takes place in Hell. So why is Qrow there?

Qrow is part of a bounty team that was sent out to hell from a limbo like region that's lore from a comic I wrote some years back. He is dead, and how he died was rather heroic in nature. It takes place after the events of volume 6 where Qrow decides to quit drinking, however he doesn't quit in time, and slowly over time he has been dying of liver failure. Eventually he would be relaxing in his death bed, spending what little time he had left with Yang and Ruby, only for the hospital they were staying in to be attacked by Tyrian. Qrow tries the best to hold him off to the best of his ability, and Ruby and Yang try to help him, but he tells them to leave, he's going to die anyways, might as well die a hero, by his own words, and so he dies trying to defend against Tyrian in a sickly state.

He'd find himself in the afterlife, unsure of exactly what to do with himself, and so he decides to take on training courses to become a bounty hunter, where he ends up joining a team of bounty hunters that he happens to share with Raven. (I might make a post in the future explaining how she died, but for now, here's this.)

The art below is mine. The first piece ties close into his original design but with some more elegant features such as lace leggings underneath, and lace gloves, plus I gave him black finger nails, because yes. I also changed his cape design a little to also be a bit more thrilly in nature. Gave him ear piercings because yes, and flipped the cross upside down because why not??? The last two designs are more for formal days, the turtleneck being because I saw someone else draw him in a turtleneck, (I can't remember their name, but I'll look around for them and credit them.) And so I put my own spin on the turtle neck. It was supposed to be a black velvet, but I didn't do it very well. TwT. The second design taking a more elegent approach, especially with the corset esque midsection. Fucking hell yes. And the over all use in both pieces of knee high boots. UwU. Also I have a soft spot for sunglasses so I'd figured I'd see what he looks like in them, and let me just say. Dayum...

Anyways, hope you enjoy my trashtastic Au, headcanons and art.

#rwby qrow #qrow #qrow branwen

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junkratsloverat · 4 years ago

Note

22 and Cullen from the kiss prompts? (toogay)

22. a kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party

this is such a cute idea, tysm @toogayforthistoday!! :3 sorry for taking so long, i got distracted by the ovw event and getting the new emote for jamie lol

i’ve had a college au in my head for a long time now, and this is the first time i’ve written for it; hopefully it’s ok sjkdhfsldfs

length: 8563 characters ; 1570 words

warnings: gets a little steamy ｜−・;） nothing explicit tho!

[ more kisses! ]

“...it’s 72, love.”

“Right, that’s what I said.”

“You wrote 82.”

“No I didn- yeah I did. Dammit.” I mumbled, fixing the mistake. “Why did I do that?”

Cullen shrugged, leaning over to rest his head on my shoulder. “Come on. What’s the next one?”

I glanced at the clock beside my bed. We’d been trying to put a dent in my math homework for a solid three hours, but it didn’t feel like any of it was sticking, even with Cullen’s best efforts. Granted trying to study on my bed with our backs against the wall may not have been the best place to try, but my dorm had the quiet of a library without the social anxiety of studying around other people. For a few more hours, anyway.

I sighed, tucking the finished worksheet inside my notebook and hesitantly taking out the next one. “Do we have to do another one?”

He considered it, but eventually nodded. “Yeah. One more. But if you promise that we’ll finish the rest tomorrow, it can be the last one. Is that fair?”

“Okaaay...” I rolled my eyes, which got me a Glare. “Whaaat? I told you I hate this stuff.”

“It’s still important.” He chided, gently elbowing my side.

“For you, sure. But I’m majoring in art stuff, I ain’t gonna need this.”

“But what if you did?”

“...theeeen my super sweet boyfriend would come help me?”

He laughed, but immediately turned an adorable shade of pink. “Focus, you. A-and don’t look at me like that! Your puppy eyes are unfair.”

“Psh — have you seen yours?” I asked, hoping to cover up the heat I felt rushing to my face. “You could get the biggest monsters in the Fade to-”

Cullen planted a chaste kiss to my cheek, cutting that train of thought before it could get anywhere. “Focus. We’re almost done.”

“R-right!” I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Focusing. Gotcha.”

He grinned, kissing my temple. “That’s my girl. You’ve got this; just remember what I taught you.”

Right. Because I was 100% listening the entire time, and never got distracted by how cute you are. Not once.

“...why are you staring at me? Is everything ok?”

I nodded, despite knowing my face was turning a brighter shade of red. “Uh huh. Peachy.”

He smirked, eyeing me curiously. “Would a kiss for every correct answer be better motivation?”

The speed at which I turned back to my work and started scrawling numbers down on what was left of my scratch paper must’ve been enough of an answer — thankfully, since I wasn’t sure if I could give him a verbal ‘yes’ without my voice going up an octave and looking like a bigger dork than usual. Cullen’s head came to rest on my shoulder again as he watched, gently nudging me or clearing his throat when I’d mix up my numbers. It would’ve been peaceful, if I didn’t have to do math the entire time...

It took me close to an hour, but the relief that flowed through me as I passed my notebook to Cullen after I’d finished... almost made it worth it. Watching him go through my answers helped, too — his confused head tilt was almost like a puppy’s, and his occasional looks of surprise were super cute, too.

“Sooo... how’d I do?”

He hesitated. “Do you want the good news first? Or the bad news?”

“Uh... bad?”

“You still missed five of them-” I groaned, burying my face in his arm “-but I think I know why you did.”

Thankfully, the revision process was much quicker than my original try. Would what he taught me stick this time? It’s debatable, but I wouldn’t put much money on it.

“Wait, was that the good news?” I asked after we finished fixing everything. “That you knew what part I got so hung up on?”

Cullen shook his head. “It was that you had the other 25 right. But now that we fixed them, you got all 30.”

“...riiiight.”

We sat in silence for a minute as I put my books in my bag and tossed it back to its resting space by the end of my bed. When my attention turned back to Cullen, he was still watching me — smiling, but also like he was waiting for something.

“...what?”

He pouted and tossed one of the plushes from my pillows at me, making us both laugh. “Do you want your 30 kisses or not?”

“OH. Right. I, uh...”

“Forgot?”

“Not ‘forgot!’ I just... was so focused on my homework that-”

“That you forgot.” He giggled. “Maker’s breath — how would you remember anything without me?”

“I never did,” I admitted, motioning to the perfectly-made bed across the room. “Ask Josie.”

Cullen shook his head, but he was still smiling. “Come here.”

I scooted closer to him, resting against the wall again. I started to cross my legs, but he sat up on his knees and planted himself in my lap before I could. We almost bumped foreheads as his hands landed against the wall behind me, turning us both a nice shade of red.

“Are we still... good?” I asked hesitantly, tilting my head. “’cause I’m still good. Are you? Still, uh...”

His face softened, smiling as he cupped my cheek and caressed it with his thumb. “Y-yeah. Just a bit... flustered, that’s all.”

“Ok, cool. Me too.” I giggled, subconsciously resting against his hand. “Should I, like... count these, or...”

He nodded, brushing my hair away from my face and kissing my forehead, peppering a few more down the side of my face.

“Right, ok. So that’s one, two, three...”

“See?” He grinned, kissing my nose. “You are good at math.”

I snorted. “Dude, I wish. Five- that counted for five, right?”

“Uh huh.” He cupped my face with both hands, giving my lips a brief kiss. “And that’s six.”

He quickly pressed his lips to mine again, only pulling away long enough for me to say the next number before drawing me in for another kiss. One of his hands slowly worked its way behind my head, the other guiding my hands to his shoulders, where they probably should’ve been the entire time.

The kisses kept getting longer, leaving me less time between them to try and remember what number I was supposed to say next.

“F-fourteen...” I mumbled as he pulled away from my face to trail a few kisses down my neck, “fifffteen—”

“I told you she’d want boba!! Why the hell did you buy bubbles?!” questioned an upset Cassandra from the hallway outside our dorm.

“You called it ‘bubble tea’!” was the muffled response, presumably Sera’s. “What else would I get?”

The whole ruckus caused us both to almost jump out of our skins; Cullen quickly pulled back and stared at me like a panicked deer. “I thought you said they weren’t supposed to be home until later!” he whispered.

I shrugged, whispering the best reply I had. “Maybe it is later?”

“Hannah!!”

“I’m sorry! My blood ain’t exactly rushin’ to my brain right now!”

“It’s alright, I bought enough for all of us.” Josie piped up from outside, the group’s voices getting louder as they reached our front door. “Could one of you get the door open for me? And, Sera, you know you can’t drink actual bubbles... don’t you?”

“Pfft! Only if you’re too scared to try.”

“Ah, mercy-” I mutter, trying to reach for my bookbag, forgetting I’d tossed it to the floor.

Cullen shook his head, grabbing a textbook from his backpack, which he thankfully hadn’t thrown across the room... unlike me. “We can use one of mine!”

“Aye, lovebirds! We brought worms!” Sera announced from the next room, giggling to herself.

Cassandra groaned. “She means we brought food!”

“Huh. Nest looks empty. Reckon they’re still here?”

“They have to be,” Josie replied, sitting down whatever she’d been carrying. “Hannah would’ve texted us if they left.”

Cullen and I were still scrambling to look like we were studying while the footsteps outside kept getting louder. We barely had sat down beside each other again before Sera knocked twice and opened the door. “They’re back here!!” she yelled over her shoulder before looking us up and down and giggling again. “Lookin’ real warm and cozy, too.”

“You’re supposed to wait after you knock,” Josie reminded her gently, stepping through the doorway. She didn’t say anything at first, but the smirk on her face gave away that we cut it real close. “How’s the studying going?”

“It’s good!” I answered a bit too quickly, making Cullen elbow my side. “Real — ow — really good. Got all my math right and everything, heh...”

“Did you now? Is that why you’re using Cullen’s criminology book?”

He nodded. “She’s... helping me now! S-so it balances out.”

“Alright.” Sera cut in, grinning. “Then why’s it upside down?”

“I- uh-”

“W-well... we were, um...”

Cassandra had joined the jury now, leaning against the doorframe and sipping from her own boba cup. I caught her gaze, mentally pleading for help, but she just shrugged. “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

I turned to Cullen, hoping to find some kind of answers there, but his face was redder than a sunset, and he was biting on the end of a stray pencil he’d picked up from somewhere — looking to me for the exact same thing.

There was no easy way for us to get out of this one.

#answered #jl.fic #starseed #au: win the fight and go out for pizzas #tysm for this! :3 #i think this is the longest thing ive written for fun in years lol #posting at 2am bc im afraid tumblr will eat this if i dont owo;;#hopefully it doesnt tho!#anon #toogayforthistoday

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moonlightcrossesonyourbody · 5 years ago

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Words, Nerves and Cigarettes

Hiiii!!!! So, this is for the wonderful @liglitterbug to whom I promised a story for a prompt for helping me out and finding me that story I was looking for obsessively. The prompt was basically h/c and dyslexic Steve with Harringrovre which like, one my favourite things EVER!! This is pre-slash. There are a couple anxiety attack scenes that are pretty graphic. More warnings in the tags.

Without further ado here we go!!

Okay. So Steve knew he wasn’t the smartest guy in the block. He knew that he was surrounded by people who could think circles around him on any given topic okay? He knew that. And he wasn’t bitter. No he had accepted long ago, when Mrs Johnson asked him to read out loud in 6th grade and he almost had a damn panic attack and had to feign feeling lightheaded- which honestly, not that much feigning there- that school and all that academic mambo jumbo just wasn’t for him.

His dad certainly made sure he understood just how stupid and incompetent and Jesus, Steven, you’re so damn lazy why can’t you just apply yourself, son? he was. Back when he was still young enough that his parents missing parent-teacher night would be frowned upon in the polite company of Hawkin’s upper class, a couple of his teachers would throw around, in lower tones, like a dirty little secret, words like testing and dyslexia and it’s not his fault, it’s just...his brain. That was always sure to get his father going and start threatening in hushed tones about incompetent teachers and funding and do you even know how to work with kids, he’s just damn lazy. So eventually the teachers stopped mentionning it. He never forgot that word though.

He looked it up in the school library one day when Tommy and Carol where to occupied sucking each other’s faces and too high to notice him gone anyway. He thought he might have it. Dyslexia that is. It made sort of sense anyway, as much as anything could make sense in his head, especially these days. The book said things like jumbled words and trouble reading and spelling and backwards letters like b and d...or d and b. Something anyway. And it all felt pretty familiar and it was comforting for a while, cause the book also had this section about coping mechanisms. Sounding the words out slowly, or spelling them or writing them down. Having someone read to him worked the best though and when Carol was in a giving enough mood and Tommy wasn’t around and he widened his eyes and pouted his lips just enough, she’d read the homework out loud to him. And then Nancy came.

Sweet, understanding, beautiful, smart Nancy who was determined to help him make sense of his stupid brain. She’d read to him and show him how to take notes so he’d need the books less and explain to him stuff that he just couldn’t get. But then their world turned literally upside down and school kinda went into the back and Nancy left him and then he had the kids to take care of, because he had to keep them safe, he had to. God knows he couldn’t help with anything else. So he patrolled the woods and picked them up and from wherever those little nerds-geniuses- were everyday. Cause he could do that at least. He wasn’t like Dustin who was the smartest person he had ever known, who had a science based explanation for everything.Or Nancy and Jonathan and Hopper who connected all the dots and where always, like, fifteen steps ahead of him.Or Mike who always had a plan for every damn contnigency.

Mike, who was currently looking at him like he bit into something sour-which honestly was turning into the kid’s default expression right along with those eyes that he was currently rolling at him and Jesus his face was gonna get stuck like that and then he would- Jesus dammit Steve focus. He tried to go back on his train of thought, which, honestly more like a trainwreck of a thought, and figure out why Mike was currently making that face at him.

“Jesus Christ, Steve, are you gonna ever roll or fucking what?” exclaimed the kid and-

“ Hey, language-” Steve started saying and oh my god what happened to him, before he remembered that they were playing the nerds’ stupid game Gorgons and Caves or what the fuck ever. Which you know. Speaking of trainwrecks. So he rolled and landed a fourteen and Mike started spouting of some bullshit that he couldn’t hope to understand even if he was focused and not sleep deprived, which speaking of, Jesus he hadn’t slept more than five hours since Wednesday, and what day was it again and-

“ Oh my God, Dude are you fucking stupid? We’ve explained this a thousand fucking times, just read your damn character sheet and make a stupid move, come on!!” Which, okay ouch, Mike fuck you very much, he didn’t even wanna play the stupid game, but Dustin was begging and the kid thinks he’s cool and he can’t say no to him and-

“Oh, my God Mike can you just fucking chill he was probably bored of your stupid voice-” Max started yelling and there was that word again stupid, stupid, stupid, and the kids were yelling now and-

“Okay, Okay, Jesus, hold your damn panties, Wheeler, here.” he pulled his character sheet off the floor where he had let it drop during the kids’ last yelling match, jesus do they yell, and he squinted at the page. “ Okay, so, umm...I...umm, I have that back up spell right? So I, ah, I’m gonna give that to Will...?” he trailed off, lifting his eyes to look at the rest of the kids around the table.

“Oh my God, Steve come on you have to read the spell,come on.” Mike said while heaving a big, great, sigh. “ See I told you guys, he wouldn’t get it, he’s only slowing us down-”

“Jesus, Mike shut up! How can he read if you’re always yelling at him, he’s new at this and just needs some time to concentrate, not everyone’s brain works the same. Come on buddy just read the spell like we practiced,” Dustin turned his big eyes at him and gave him that damn ridiculous smile and Jesus that’s were he’s at right now, his best friend is also his cheerleader and his mom who is also a fucking thirteen year old.

He looked back down at the sheet and tried to read the stupid spell, but he couldn’t find where the damn word was, and the letters were dancing all over the page, and none of the words made sense anyway and he couldn’t sound them out, never mind spelling them and, was that an upside down question mark what the fuck? Oh wait no that’s an f, the spell started with an f- right?

“Okay, umm, I wanna give Will, a fu-, an umm, a fra..for,” He was stuttering, he knew he was stuttering, goddammit, and he was starting to sweat, the back of his neck was on fire, and there was no air in this stupid basement, and none of the words made sense, and his stupid brain couldn’t process anything, and his leg was jittering and his nails were digging into the meat of his palm were he had his hand fisted on his lap,

and the kids were all looking at him,

and Mike was rolling his eyes,

and Dusting was looking at him all supportive like,

and Max was looking at him like she knew, and her moth was forming a soft, quiet oh,

and he couldn’t breathe.

Out. He needed out, NOW.

He stood up abruptly, his knees knocking into the low wooden table they were playing on, almost knocking Mike’s book fortress on the floor, and he was getting tunnel vision, his hands fumbled in his pockets, searching for the cigarettes he wasn’t carrying anymore, cause it wasn’t good for the kids and-

“ Umm, I’m just,..I’m just gonna go get some... get some water,isn’t it...isn’t it hot in here, get some umm some air” he stuttered out, hand finding the nearest wall, stumbling his way towards the staircase, damn it all to fucking hell why stairs?

“ What?!” Dustin exclaimed “Steeeeve, come on it was just about to get good-”

He cut Dustin off “ Anybody want anything?” he rushed out, the words coming out with a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He risked a glance round the table and saw Max looking at him like she understood, and she nodded her head at him toward the stairs.

“ I want some juice” She said calmly.

Mike opened his mouth as if to argue, and she must have seen something on Steve’s face cause she was turning toward the boy, with a thunderous expression on her face and-

“ Oh My God, Mike! What the hell is your problem, he gave the damn spell to Will, just go on, you little asshole-” and that girl deserved the world.

He could hear Mike’s screech of indignation as he flayed his way up the stairs, opened the door and exited that stupid, suffocating basement, trying to catch his breath, as he made his way towards the front door, mostly blindly, mainly on instinct, feeling like his face was on fire and his hands were shaking and

stupid, stupid, stupid, you panic because of a game with fucking pre-teens, what the hell is wrong with you, you stupid - stuttered breath-

pathetic- just a couple more steps-

useless- his hand was on the handle-

embarrassing-he wrenched the door open-

-and promptly run into a wall.

“Jesus fuck, what the Hell?!” Someone exclaimed, as hands went on his bicep and hip steading him, his arms trapped between them, hands on a firm chest, half-clutching an open shirt, mostly pawing at warm, golden skin, golden necklace catching on the reflecting porchlight, his stupid brain going a mile a minute-

-oh hell.

He raised his eyes, meeting twin night sky blue pools- no, no wait not pools, pools were bad and death and guilt and monsters and we killed he-

“ Okay there amigo?” Billy asked, eyebrow raised, arms still holding him, burning, scorching him, and his breath hit his face, smelling strongly like cigarette smoke and faintly of something sweet, saccharin, snapping him back to the moment and Jesus, they were standing so close, practically sharing air, that Steve couldn’t take in and he was burning and

“ Yougotanysmokes?” he rushed out, and tried to swallow, throat working, while he was still trying to draw breath, which was maybe a little easier now, with Billy’s scorching, rough hands feeling like a brand on the skin of his arm and the sliver of skin where the fabric of his shirt had bunched up on his hip, where Billy was still steading, grounding him.

“I sure do” he said stepping back, taking his hands and all their fire away, second eyebrow climbing up to meet the first. “Wanna bum one, King?” he said, devil’s smirk appearing, making the statement sound suggestive,

smug asshole, Steve thought.

“Umm, ye- yeah.” He got out, clearing his throat and looking everywhere but at Billy.

“ They’re in the car.” He turned around, making towards the Camaro, and of course they were. Where would he even keep them on him, it was finally warm enough that jackets weren’t a necessity and he must be barely able to breathe in those jeans, never mind shove things down the pockets- Jesus ,Steve, focus he thought to himself aggressively, blushing again, and heart stuttering, for entirely different reasons that he wasn’t examining too closely right now cause seriously fuck that.

He looked back and found Billy looking at him over his shoulder, devil smirk still there, porchlight and moonlight catching on his curls and on the angles of his face making him look like one of those marble statues in his history book, if you looked past that infuriating smirk and that glint in his eyes that spelled only trouble.

“You coming, or am I fetching them and lighting one for you, King Steve?” he drawled slowly, tongue appearing and glistening while wetting his lips.

does that thing ever stay inside his mouth? he thought and then snapped back to himself, shaking his head to clear it, and started to move towards the car.

“Yeah, no, ah, yeah, yeah I’m coming.” he said and Billy hummed behind his smirk and turned back around and made for the driver’s side, Steve following him this time, heart still beating faster than it should be and the previous anxiety and panic that chased him away from the kids and that damn basement still simmering in the forefront of his thoughts.

By the time he had reached him Billy had already got his packet out, and had a cigarette dangling on his lips, driver’s door shut, the hand with the packet extended towards Steve, while the other held his lighter, as he made his way towards the front of the car.

When he reached Steve, Billy got between him and the bumper of the car. Steve swallowed on reflex while Billy’s arms reached behind him and he leaned back on them, hips jutting out and the fabric of his sleeves straining, and then he gave a small jump, landing on the hood of the Camaro with a grace that Steve would hardly possess in general, never mind now with his nerves wrecked as they were.

Billy lied back on the hood of his car, golden/sliver curls creating a hallo around his head, eyes closed and smoke going up, up ,up from the cigarette Steve didn’t even notice him lighting up, arms going behind his head, knees bent and exposed torso shining.

He looks like a giant cat. Steve thought as he saw him stretch and hum, shiny midnight blue hood contrasting against the reds and golds of his skin and clothes.

He turned his head slightly towards Steve’s general direction, his eyes opened half-hooded and hazy behind the smoke of his cigarette. The cigarette he was now grinning around, the jackass. More like a lion then. Or a tiger, but definitely a predator, instead of a house pet. Like Mews 2.. or was it Tews? The one the monster didn’t eat anyway and nope. Nope. Nope. Not thinking about that right now. No.

Steve, still trying to avoid that anxiety attack he has been trying to restrain since Mike opened his stupid mouth and his stupid brain stopped working, let out a quiet breath and rolled his eyes, when Billy lifted one eyebrow again and glanced at the packet now lying on the hood of the car next to his hip.

He reached for the packet and pulled a cigarette out, rolling it across his lips, before setting it in the middle while he searched for the lighter he still always carried on him. He lit it up, put the lighter away, safely inside his jeans’ pocket, got the cigarette back in his fingers and climbed next to Billy on the hood. He looked toward the other boy but Billy’s eyes were closed again, smoke slowly drifting up, up, up from his blowing mouth, so he mimed his stance and laid back. One hand pillowing his head, but he didn’t close his eyes, opting instead to turn to the boy next to him.

He looked like he was sunbathing in the moonlight, greedy even with light, drawing toward him any light source there was in the bleakness of the early Midwest spring, sucking it all in or maybe better, absorbing it, and while he was watching mesmerized the rise and fall of his naked, sculpted chest, Steve wondered, when exactly, sitting in silence with Billy Hargrove, became the silent comfort of his mess of a life.

It was comfortable now. It wasn’t comfortable at the start. Not for Steve at least. He pushed through the nerves and the wariness and yes, the fear, cause Billy Hargrove wasn’t the only stubborn bastard, this side of the country. But he was dangerous. And as much as Steve liked to tell the kids that the demon dogs from Hell were by far the sole scary thing that night, he could admit it. Quietly. To himself. In the privacy of his jumbled, stupid head that Billy’s rage and raw, unstoppable force of power and anger that night were just us terrifying.

But he apologized. And Steve hadn’t slept well since October of last year and he just didn’t have the energy to hold a grudge. He was never good at it anyway. So he nodded his head and mumbled a ‘whatever dude’ and looked away. But the asshole wouldn’t leave, and then he offered him a cigarette and Nancy hated those and they weren’t good for the kids, but he hadn’t slept in ages and he remembered what the burn of nicotine felt like when it travelled down his lungs and suddenly he found himself unable to say anything but yes.

So he started smoking with Billy Hargrove. While waiting on the kids if the weather was good. After practice sometimes. And it was nice. It quieted his head. Cause Billy was very calm when he wasn’t raging and halfway out of his goddamned mind. Or maybe not calm, exactly, cause he was always there, like, like a palpable energy, like...like what the sea must be like not still itself but calming for you like the open ocean. The ocean that Steve had never seen but Billy was missing like a phantom limb, the ocean he decided to carry along with him to the dry, dirty Midwest, that stole it from him.

He took another breath, filling his lungs with smoke that burned. Burned but not like the fire in the tunnels burning something to death alive, or like bullshit or like we’re in love or like his eyes did when he was trying to make it up the stairs, like stupid, stupid, stupid, cotton-mouth, stutters, like Max’s eyes on the back of his burning neck. Not like Billy’s hands on his skin. He exhaled slowly. Letting the smoke drift out into the night. Closed his eyes.

“You good now?” Billy’s low baritone, broke the silence, snapping Steve out of his head. He opened his eyes and looked at the other boy who had, at some point turned his head towards him, eyebrow raised again and eyes inquiring but tone surprisingly -or maybe not- not mocking.

“I..ah..eghem” Steve cleared his throat “ Yeah. Yeah I’m fine” he said all the while looking at Billy, cheshire, catlike smirk slowly spreading across face.

“ That you are alright, pretty boy.” He said in that tone he always used to charm girls and moms and teachers, and Steve turned his head away looking back up at the sky and thanked God for the darkness that hopefully would cover the fire in his face. This shit was getting tiring, what the hell was wrong with him-

“ But are you okay?” Billy asked again snapping Steve out of his thoughts that were going downhill for the millionth time that night. The sincerity in his voice threw Steve off for a second and he turned to look at him and found it in equal measures on his face. He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat and wondered for the hundredth time since Billy Hargrove’s Heartfelt Apology Tour of 1985 how exactly he had managed to find yet another person who could see right through him.

“I’m gonna be” He said surprisingly heartfelt and sincerely. Quietly. Billy’s eyes searched his face for a second, trying to find signs of dishonesty or maybe something else entirely. He slowly blew the smoke he was holding out and as it danced across his face while it was traveling up, up, up to meet the moon whose rays Billy was bathing in, his expression softened and his lips ticked up minutely in a smile so soft and almost... almost tender and Steve’s breath caught in his chest again in a different, surprisingly more welcome, flattering,butterfly like panic.

A second, a breath, less than a heartbeat later Billy seemed to have found whatever answers to whatever questions he was searching for in Steve’s face. He nodded slowly. Curtly. And he turned his face back towards the moonlight rays that went back to licking the sharp planes of his cheekbones casting shadows from his eyelashes. Claiming him as theirs.

He hummed.

He exhaled.

“ I need to get Max back to the house.” He said with an apologetic sort of finality.

And whatever spell the moonlight and the smoke and the ocean, midnight blue of the Camaro had cast was broken.

He made to get up and Steve almost lost his balance with how quickly he made to get up. Because in a twisted superstition he believed in, in that moment that if he was the one to get up, maybe-

maybe time would freeze. Maybe he would be able to preserve the image or whatever mirage the moonlight and the smoke had created and Billy would be imprinted on his memory as the calming, solid...dangerous, presense laying against the hood of the ocean that he drove.

Maybe some of that calm would seep into Steve’s brain that constantly betrayed him.

So he got up, rushed out a jumbled “ Imagoget’em ” and started towards the door. he reached it, opened it and when he was inside turned around, looked at Billy, forever young and laying on his thunderous ocean and waiting.

He got back down, the sounds of the kids still yelling piercing through whatever fog -peace- had surrounded him and he started, like he just woke up.

Max’s juice. He doubled back towards the kitchen, grabbed a juice box and sprinted towards the stairs. He was climbing down when Will noticed him first letting out a “ Steve!” and then closing his mouth with a click, an apologetic look on his face when all the rugrats turned their heads towards him and started yelling. Steve gave him a little smile to let him know that it was okay.

“ My juice!” Max exclaimed and got up with the same grace her brother possessed and made her way to him, arms outstretched. When she had the plastic straw in her mouth she mumbled a quick “thanks” to him before her voice was drowned out by Mike’s yelling as he bulldozed his way towards Steve.

“You missed all the rest of the campaign! We need your stupid character to finish this off come on!” He said petulantly as he shoved his character sheet and the dice in his hands.

Steve looked down and gulped when he saw all the jumbled words and felt all the kids’ eyes on him. He could feel his chest constricting, the previous panic that smoke and moonlight had chased away slowly coming back to reclaim its spot.

“-umm...I”

“Max.”

A hand came up and squeezed the back of his neck. He let out a stuttered breath and turned to his left to see Billy standing there.

“ Time to get back.” he said and the kids broke out in protests and moans of “noooooo”

He looked at the juice box in Max’s hands and turned to face Steve, devil’s smirk appearing.

“You their servant now, King Steve?” he said in a tone more teasing than mocking, tongue sweeping across his lips and eyes glinting.

“Fuck off” Steve said while rolling his eyes. He leaned back into the hand still at the back of his neck, trying to match his breaths to the rise and fall of Billy’s chest, while trying not to look like he was, like, ogling the guy. “ I just got Max a juice, man”.

“Oh, so you’re her maid then, huh, Harrington?” Billy went on teasing and nodded towards Max’s general direction, not taking his eyes off of Steve or letting up the pressure on his neck.

Steve looked back at Max and winked “ Your sister’s a gift Hargrove”

Billy snorted and raised a hand to point,” Baby Byers over there is a gift” he said and send a wink at Will’s direction, who promptly blushed all the way to his ears and suddenly found the tablecloth in front of him fascinating, the poor kid,

“Maxine” he drawled looking back between the two of them “ is a beast.” he said around a smirk that turned into a toothy grin with Max’s indignant “ Hey!”

Steve hummed and acted like he was thinking about it and then looked at Max with a conspiratory grin and pointed at her “ But she’s a badass”

“ HA!” yelled Max while raising her juice box in a toast towards Steve proudly and looked around at the rest of the boys to see if any of them cared to contest that statement. Obviously none did. Lucas nodded vigorously and agreed, Will smiled at the tablecloth while sending furtive glances Billy’s way still very much on fire, Dustin accepted the statement with grace and Mike continued to look like he had bit into a lemon.

Steve saw Billy roll his eyes playfully while the kids were busy talking over each other and looking Max’s way with a relatively fond expression he wouldn’t have been caught dead with a few months ago.

He saw Steve staring at him and winked and Steve suddenly found himself sympathizing with Will, cleared his throat and looking away.

“ Dustin we should get going too, your mom wants you back by nine.” he said with what he prayed was enough authority to sway the knuckleheads and turned to Will “ Your brother picking you up?”

“Yeah he’s coming later.” Will finally lifted his head and mumbled.

Billy suddenly took his hand off of Steve and glanced at his watch.

“Max. Get going.” he said with finality. He looked at Steve. “ Pretty Boy.” he said with a smirk and clapped him on the shoulder as he made his way back up the stairs. Max rolled her eyes at her brother’s back, but put her shoes on, grabbed her bag, said a bye to the boys and followed him.

“I’m ready, BYE guys!!” said Dustin and started tagging at Steve’s sleeve to get him moving. Steve gave a salute that Will smiled at, Lucas returned and Mike, unsurprisingly, rolled his eyes at but nodded in their general direction so you know, progress, and they started climbing up the stairs.

They got out of the house and in the car just as Billy and Max were pulling out of the driveway and Steve stared as the blue of the Camaro slowly became one with the darkness of the horizon.

“Steve!” Dustin snapped him out of his thoughts “ Are you gonna stay for dinner, Mom made lasagna and I know you love them. You should stay and celebrate. That spell you gave Will literally saved the whole village” he said in a pointed and encouraging voice, “ Mike’s just an asshole don’t listen to him he’s just pissed cause El wasn’t allowed to come and Nancy’s always blowing him off and he’s jealous that she won’t play with us but you do, even if you’re new at this and you don’t really have the hung of it- but you will don’t worry, cause you’re really smart and -”

“Dustin!” Steve cut him and his flayling word vomit off “ It’s fine, it was fine, it was fun you know, it was great” he said and hoped that Dustin didn’t see through the lie even though he found himself believing it a little. Don’t get him wrong the anxiety attack wasn’t fun but the rest of the evening, listening to the kids bicker and laugh and then smoking with Billy....

yeah. It wasn’t all bad.

Dustin was looking at him expectantly beetle eyes shining in the dark, toothy grin splitting his face in two and Steve caught himself smiling back and wondering what the hell this kid ever saw in him and thought he was so cool. He found himself grateful anyway.

“ Yeah, yeah I’ll stay for dinner, kid” he said fondly and reached over and messed his hand through Dustin’s curly hair. The kid just gave him a big smile.

“Oh my God I love this song!” Dustin yelled excitedly and reached to turn the radio up. Steve started driving, breathing, finally normal and hummed along with Dustin’s excited singing

Someone told me long ago

There's a calm before the storm

I know, it's been comin' for some time.

When it's over, so they say

It will rain a sunny day

I know, shinin' down like water.

I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain? ....

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recurring-polynya · 5 years ago

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Zanpakutou Rebellion Arc Recap, p3

It’s fight time! Let’s talk about some fights!

We’ll start with Episode 234, the delightfully named “Renji Surprised?! The Two Zabimaru.”

It actually starts, not with a fight, but with Ukitake and Kyouraku sitting around Squad 4, wondering “what the hell is going on, anyway?” and “I’m sure not going out there, how about you?”, as is their standard policy during filler arcs. Unohana slides into their DMs and they’re like, “Oh, hi, just avoiding conflict as always, didn’t see you there” and she’s like, “Oh, I’m sure you felt me coming, tee hee,” and it’s incredibly obvious they didn’t. Unohana is boiling over with passive-aggressive Kenpachi Emeritus vibes this arc and I am here for it.

Let’s cut to… uh… Hisagi? Sure! Hisagi is shooting the breeze with some shinigami redshirts when a friggin’ whirlwind of death shows up and Expendable Unseated Officers #1 and #2 fall over in a pool of their own blood. One might think that Hisagi, a man canonically horrified by the terrors of war might… offer some first aid? Call 911? Instead, he ponders, “that sure is a sharp blade” and all I could think of was Steve Martin’s “pointy, pointy, pointy birds” poem from L.A. Story. I’m not sure, actually, if Hisagi was just being poetic, or if he actually failed to recognize his own zanpakutou, but, uh…

Moving right along! Our Renji is “looking for clues” around the plaza next to the Soukyoku Hill-- you know, the place where he fought Ichigo that time. This entire filler arc is phoning it in so hard, it’s just reusing old plot beats left and right. It’s like they blew their whole budget on zanpakutou character designs and had to recycle everything else. I must say, Renji’s eye liner is incredibly on point today, nice. Anyway, his zanpakutou, whom I am going to refer to by their individual names Saru (Monkey) and Hebi (Snake), show up and start taunting him from exactly the same point on those stairs where he taunted Ichigo. Renji, whose single brain cell was off filming a movie and was not available for this filler arc, does not recognize them at first, and even goes so far as to say they used to be different. I respect this arc so much for pointing out all its own plot holes and doing absolutely nothing to explain them.

Here is the point where I would have put the shitty drawing I did of Saru carrying Hebi around in a purse like a tiny dog, except that it came out too good and I had to give it its own post.

I cannot emphasize enough how much this fight makes no sense at all. Saru and Hebi start bickering and Renji is like, “Hey guys, can you text me later, I am actually at work right now,” and they’re like “No, we’re gonna kill you” and Renji’s like “...why?” and they’re like, “We gotta.” They yell at him for “depending on him too much” and also “being weak.” Now, #1… yes? Isn’t that… isn’t that why we have zanpakutou? And 2a) my man came from abject poverty and is currently in the shinigami top 20, which also contains at least 4 people who are over 1000 years old??? What do they want from him? I mean, if they complained, specifically, that he hadn’t beaten Byakuya, or that Ichigo is better than him, I could get behind it, but all of this is just tremendously weaksauce. Fortunately, for them, my precious son has no self-confidence, so just just pulls a patented John Mulaney “I’m sorry you poured soup in my lap” and lets them beat him up a bunch.

Meanwhile, Muramasa has decided to come bother Ichigo at home, i.e., his inner world. We have some sepia toned flashbacks with jazz flute accompaniment and Ichigo shouts a lot. Everything turns upside-down, some extra hands come out of Ichigo, so on and so forth. Most of this is boring until Hollow Ichigo is here!!! God, I want Hollow Ichigo to fuck Muramasa up so bad. I’m sure we could find a way to keep this arc going without him. Wait, no, I guess we need Muramasa so we can have Vintage Kuchiki Bullshit flashbacks. Dammit.

Some very important notes here:

My husband accidentally called Hollow Ichigo “Holluigi” and I laughed my ass off for like two straight minutes.

Look, is spinning your sword by its ribbon actually effective? I hate to harsh a guy’s vibe, but I posit that it is not. There were definitely some times that Holluigi could have just stabbed Muramasa dead and this could all be over, but nooOooOOooo we had to go for that Jared-Leto-as-the-Joker, Crazy Eyes Aesthetic. Alas.

This fight scene brought to you by HARPSICHORD, the official background music of FILLER ARC VILLAINS

Back to Hisagi who is now Naruto running through the forest and is getting totally owned by his own zanpakutou. I feel like in a fight between two guys who have basically the same powers, except one hates murdering and the other loves murdering, one of them has a clear advantage. Hisagi tries to talk his way out of this and tells his zanpakutou “I don’t like you” and then Kazeshine straight up murders him. I also want to say that this arc really loves the thing where the camera zooms in and spins around a character to show how betrayed they are by their zanpakutou turning on them, this has happened at least six times by now.

Meanwhile, Renji honestly does not want to fight his zanpakutou for the obvious reason that if he kills them, he won’t have a zanpakutou anymore. Even they know this, and are like, “Yeah, I guess we’ll just die, then.” I can’t even, fam. Anyway, it’s time for Renji to have some inner turmoil. Earlier, Saru taunted Renji about Rukia and threatened to kill her. Renji got pissed all the way off except that he choked and got knocked into a wall. Renji now gets to have another introspective moment, featuring mood lighting, multiple camera angles, and plinky-plunky piano. Renji wonders if he’s useless while Hebi smacks him around a bit (it’s vaguely erotic and I do not like it) and mumbles “my life force”. As Hebi is about to land the killing blow, Renji wonders “Am I still just… me?” while having flashbacks about his bankai capelet. He thinks about Ichigo for a while and how dreamy he is. Then, there is a single shot of Byakuya making a Judgy Face at Renji. End scene.

We have to skip back to the Ichigo fight, where Ichigo has decided to declare that Holluigi is not a Hollow, he is Ichigo’s Precious Friend, and we all know what that means. For absolutely no reason whatsoever, the fight jumps into interspersed scenes of Renji and Ichigo fighting, exactly like in the Soul Society Arc when Ichigo is getting bankai while Renji is fighting Byakuya. Why? Whyyyyyyyyyy??? Then Renji tells Saru and Hebi, “Hey, losers, I just forgot that I haven’t defeated Byakuya yet, so get in line.” They are playing the really intense fight music with the chanting and Renji manages to channel so much of the purest form of Renji energy (being super gay for Ichigo and Byakuya at the same time) that he manages to unseal his sword with his grumpy zanpakutou spirits standing right there. I am pretty sure that no one else in this arc manages to do this, although I will report back. The important part is that he then makes this face, a screenshot that I already had saved as “f_you_zabimaru.png” and which my husband described as “the most shit-eatingest grin I have ever seen.”

236!

So, I actually wrote the above before I watched 236, and fam, I have figured out the Renji-Zabimaru fight. Renji’s got a sword again, and he’s running at his zanpakutous yelling “I think that zanpakutou should listen to their master!” like he’s posting some an unpopular opinion on Twitter and Hebi is like “that’s bullshit” and Saru is like “let the man speak,” and it struck me: Zabimaru is not about making sense or doing things for reasons. Zabimaru is about starting shit and going ham. Must the things we shout in battle make sense? Is it not simply enough to shout? Every time Renji tries to think about anything, they yell at him, and anytime he does something hare-brained, they’re like “tell me more.” This sounds dumb as hell, but I tell you, Renji needs this. Renji is an overthinker, a brooder. This is a liability. His zanpakutou wants him to forget that crap, to jump in with two fists swinging, to get a bunch of tribal tattoos because they’re sweet, dude!!! I’ve alluded to this before, but a zanpakutou doesn’t necessarily bring out the best in their shinigami, it just brings out their most.

Anyway, Renji abandons all pretense of common sense, and just starts running around, shooting off Shakkahou, every fifth one blowing up in his face. I love this. My precious, idiot son. God, I love him so much. Anyway, it gets even better. He lets Hebi have the shikai-Zabimaru he managed to summon, but it kinda falls apart (presumably, like Hihou Zabimaru, he uses his own reiatsu to create tension between the segments and this is a thing can just do at will), and then he hits it with a shakkahou and it breaks and then my large adult son does a Higa Zekkou, which, for you non-Zabimaru stans, is when he throws the broken pieces of his sword at an enemy. Something I did not appreciate the last time I watched this is that Higa Zekkou also (1) puts Zabimaru out of commission for a while and (2) hurts Zabimaru to do. So, he landed a triple-blow on them: attacking them with an attack that damages them and tires them out. My boy!!!!!

Anyway, immediately thereafter, he’s walking away from his sword and their voices echo from it, like, “Hey, no, we’re cool now, man,” and Renji’s like, “Sweet.”

I also want to posit, at this point, that Muramasa was never able to fully brainwash them because Saru, Hebi, and Renji all share a single braincell between them, and he was only able to get at ⅔ of it.

Other fights!

I guess it turns out that Hisagi didn’t get murdered after all, he dodged just in time, but basically, he’s got nothing. Fortunately, Kira shows up! That was so nice of Kira to show up to help Hisagi. Also, I realized that Kazeshini wears, like, super low-rise pants, so you can see alllll his abs, if you can pick up what I’m putting down, so draw your own conclusions about why Kira is here. Kira rescues Hisagi and they make eyes at each other and run. This arc is graciously determined to throw a bone to all the shippers, and I am here for it.

Meanwhile, Ichigo is using Hollow Ichigo’s power to fight Old Man Zangetsu and it works great and even though everyone else has been moaning for three episodes now that if you kill your zanpakutou it’s for keeps, Ichigo DNGAF and Getsugas Old Man Zangetsu directly off this plane of existence.

Muramasa rubs his hands together ominously and monologues on how could Ichigo do this thing?!?, and my other precious son looks Old Gross Fingernail Dude dead in the eye and announces, “Old Man Zangetsu is my friend and his power is the power of friendship, there is no way I could kill him, we are only even bester friends now.” Muramasa is owned so completely that he begins to fade in and out of reality and has to retreat in shame. It is becoming abundantly clear that the only way anyone is going to make it through this arc is through utter, abject stupidity. In other words, a perfect filler arc.

Bonus: Since this was kinda short on illustrations, I made this chart, so we can follow along with how this arc is going, and see if we can draw any conclusions about good ways to defeat your zanpakutou.

#bleach filler #zanpakutou rebellion arc #bleach fights #renji abarai #zabimaru #ichigo kurosaki #zangetsu #Shuuhei Hisagi #kazeshini

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argylemikewheeler · 5 years ago

Text

SO a lovely anon’s been asking for a screampost about season 2 byeler aaaaand guess who figured out what their screampost is gonna be about??? It’s ME, and it’s the freaking SHED SCENE. But I’m going to yell about it from the POV of an english major who’s writing an honors thesis and thinks they know shit about writing. OKAY LET’S GO:

SO. The main beef I have with the shed scene is: what the fuck was it for? Why was it so long and emotional and well done, if it was just to show the humanity of Will could be engaged/wants to get to showing he knows Morse code. Like, we see three stories told to him before we get him tapping out “HERE”. Why have those three? Why have everyone in the room? I understand the montage after with the music and the different stories is to keep the Mindflayer distracted and Will engaged. Makes sense!!! But that first part. That FIRST PART.

It’s extremely weird to think that it was just meant to be casual. Like. Of course I have time for character/dialogue analysis but first– as a writer (and this is just ME of course, I’m not an authority at ALL) I know that kind of scene. It’s where all the plot kind of lifts for a bit and you have this free spaces to create this MOMENT. It’s just for Will, it’s just shameless background– and it’s the most important moments of Will too.

It’s his Mom, his brother, and his best friend– who, no matter how you look at Mike, he’s been there the entire time. Mike’s plot started out being Minus One Eleven Plus One Broken Heart and became I’m Worried About Will and I’m Going To Make Sure I’m There For Him. I Said Crazy Together, Dammit. And that makes him logistically even with Will’s own mother and his brother speaking to him.

So the writers choose to have this moment for Will. It’s their chance to let these actors work their chops, get some background, let us feel SUPER invested in Will making it out Alive and Human, and also learn something about these relationships– before Will became Zombie Boy. Before the Upside Down. They know this is the moment to really just Go Off and Create. I mean, they have the open space! They can say whatever they want and make it canon! It’s a blank canvas of a scene that’s just WAITING to make us cry. And they tell three stories: Rainbow Ship with Joyce, Castle Byers with Jonathan, and Becoming Friend with Mike.

I’m looking at this like I was sitting in the writer’s room and I was thinking about what I would want to do and have each character say– and I acknowledge I do not write for a multi-million dollar netflix series and that shit is not easy. but WITH THAT SAID. I still, you guessed it, HAVE some THOUGHTS.

Jonathan’s story makes the most sense– very like Point-A to Point-B to me. It’s not a cheap shot or anything, but that story makes sense to tell. It’s something that 1. explains how Castle Byers came to be 2. gave us some timeline stuff 3. showed us how Jonathan dealt with the separation and 4. how close he and Will truly are, because most of the time Jonathan is just trying to save Will; they don’t really hang out, ya know? It’s a great story and writing wise it does a WHOLE BUNCH.

But it also does this really weird fifth thing of showing us that this is the first story that Jonathan thought to tell when faced with trying to reach Will. It’s the most emotionally rooted– I mean? That’s his brother! That was their father! And NOW, Will’s got a safe space! One that they made together. That’s so beautiful and human and definitely able to cut through The Mindflayer. Jonathan’s first story, and actually all of his stories, are rooted in things he did to get Will out of the abusive environment his father was creating. Jonathan’s first instinct and memory to bring Will back is: I know what you’ve been through and I know that you were scared, but you survived that. And you’re going to get back to us and survive this. Great writing, right? Good shit.

Then we get to Joyce and the Rainbow Ship! She tells this story of feeling SO proud of her son for creating something all his own. I’m not going to say anything about the, uh, rainbow thing, but we all know it’s there. They decided that not only was this ship just Different, it was Rainbow too. Crazy. But, the main point here is that the first story she chooses to tell Will to bring him back is probably one he doesn’t even think about often– which is a really great story for a Mom to have, when you think about it. What kid remembers what drawings they did– especially if they were embarrassed about it.

Well, Joyce comes through trying to pick at such a small and minute memory that only her Will would know. It’s the moment she, in a way, really started to see her son for what he is: creative and unrestrained by convention, bubbly and inventive, and just this happy joyous kid. This was probably one of those moments that she sat at the table alone, looking at the picture and hearing her son scribbling in the other room, and thinking oh i really have someone special here. oh i have to protect him.

For writing, Joyce’s moment was very detailed, completely new for the audience– but added a lot about Will’s childhood. The happy one that we know gets turned around down the line (before it goes Upside Down). Joyce misses her son and this story is a way for us to see that aching side of her and just CRY with her. It’s easy (not cheap though of course) tears and it’s incredible.

And then. And then the writers have Mike come into the mix. Like, we get the shot of Joyce and Jonathan together, wetly laughing at Will being “so bad at hammering” and the shot of Will’s hand trembling. And as a writer, I know, we’re there. We’re almost there. We set it up– Three’s a magic number. Send him over the edge let Will finally reach reality again AND–

It’s. It’s fucking Mike Wheeler. Bringing up the first day they met. Letting us in on the backstory we have NO primer to. Like, Byers Family Drama is semi-known; we know that there Is history there and it’s being given to us slowly. But how Mike and Will met? We have NO IDEA– we’ve just seen this boy calling when he’s out sick, being concerned when he’s quiet, assuring him he’ll keep him safe, “crazy together”, helping him explain his Bad Vibes with Dart without speaking over him, and just constantly thinking about Will’s well being while they’re fighting a literal monster.

So now, the writers have shown us this pure dedication and loyalty and go: they’ve known each other since they were FIVE. They make the decision in this moment that they want to tell us that Mike is literally Will’s longest and best friend. Nearly as long as this boy has been able to form memories he has known Michael Wheeler. That’s the move. That’s the info we get and that is chosen to be given. Mike’s friendship is turned into a center of Will’s formative years by simply implying that this story needs to be told to both Will and the audience. BUT THAT’S NOT ALL.

This story also, from a writing perspective, says a lot about Mike! They chose to have Mike remember the first day they met– not when the party all met or anything like that. No. Just the two of them. The writers don’t cop out on this moment at ALL. Like they take FULL advantage of this free moment and build such an intimate and short memory between characters you’re just supposed to Understand are friends. Like, the backstory isn’t always important sometimes– but right here, they tell us it is.

They tell us that Mike being alone and scared is something that stuck with him, it’s something he’s afraid of having happen again if he loses Will. They tell us that Will was a loner all the way back then too, but he doesn’t seem to mind being one (or being different). And then, mixed in with this backstory that shows both Mike and Will really haven’t changed they throw in that… uh….

Asking Will to be his friend is the best thing Mike has ever done. They wrote that sentence without any jokes, no laughs, no weak smile– Finn says that line and it’s dead. fucking. serious. The moment that speech was written into that scene, that entire relationship’s gravity changed.

And writers have to know that. They HAVE TO. Because of how close Will and Mike were the entire episode, there’s no way that this was a Red Herring– something just to throw us off the scent of… Will breaking through, I guess? Because he literally taps the chair in the next minute. It’s not a decoy scene or, as expected honestly, played for laughs. It’s a completely serious moment of an eighth grade boy, that has been emotional and angry and lashing out all season, stand in front of his friend and just CRY.

And what’s worse. Mike seems to only cry when El is involved (at the end of s1 and when Hopper tells him he was hiding her). And THAT’S a parallel, of course, but not only that, but the writers chose to show Mike having non-romantic emotional range. Which is GREAT, but dude this scene is SO… Tender??? Seeing a young boy cry at the feet of his best friend that he thinks he’s losing? And recounting the FIRST MOMENT THEY MET because that’s the BEST FIRST MEMORY? Like, literally just becoming Will’s friend is the best one because it allowed him to have every other memory? Dude that’s so profound. That’s so incredible to think of and to write.

And for no one in that room full of straight white dudes to say: Uh…. maybe that’ll seem gay in the 80s is CRAP. Sorry, not to be that piece of shit, but I know that they thought about it. So for them to still keep the speech in– even with their DUDE THAT’S GAY Monkey Brains going off– says something to me, as a writer. And not in a “they wanted to be progressive” kind of way.

They wrote a beautifully tender moment between Mike and Will, in a scene that could have been anything they wanted, with only Will’s family present. That scene was a creative writers dream! A free-for-all! A moment to just fucking make shit up and go crazy!!! and they decided to go with That…. BRO, ngl I’m kinda emo about it STILL….

Okay. I don’t know if this makes any sense, but as someone who’s writing a longer piece that has many character relationships to juggle and show the reader piece by piece, this moment of OH we can give Will some Memories and Audience Some Background is very clear to me– and I don’t mean that like, it’s cheaply done or it’s obvious in a bad way. I just know the vibe: when you get to sit and ask yourself WHAT do I want to say about my character here. It doesn’t have to be related to ANYTHING ELSE that’s happening. I get the reins back. What. Do. I. Want. To. Say.

And they chose. To Say THAT.

I’m not going to scream about season 3 because I think st3 needs st4 to make sense all the way. Like, I think it’s a set up for the Big Finale, so I won’t say they “didn’t follow through with ANY OF IT” because maybe they will. But let’s just say, if they do not. Please print this out and send it to the Duffer Brothers.

Alright. Word, thanks for reading this ridiculous rant

#s2 byeler #byeler #byler #kaz s2 rewatch #*#i reposted as a txt post bc the read more on mobile wasn't working and i didn't want anyone to have to scroll past that more than onec #xoxo

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