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#even though I kinda hate them it would ruin the absolutely insane tone
loststolenorstrayed · 2 years
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You all gotta watch Flip Flappers it’s such a fucking trip
#my post's#my post’s#that shit was my first real anime and it gave me such wild unliveuptoable expectations#magical girls going to beautifully designed weird as hell alternate universes every episode#bizarre things that I’m not sure if they are fanservice or are making fun of fanservice or both but I wouldn’t take them out#even though I kinda hate them it would ruin the absolutely insane tone#a fucking wish granting cult that genetically engineered more than half of the cast and is the antagonist#a trapped young girl with magic powers growing up to continue the cycle of abuse and control with her magic powers#lesbianism. so much lesbianism.#the most autistic pair of main characters.#mommy issues (previously elaborated on)#musings on whether your problems make you who you are#RENOWNED for having the best OP & ED ever#several genders of mad scientist#sidekick creatures with unclear levels of sapience and bizarre plot relevance#telepathic twins#lore shit dropped in your lap that you just gotta keep up with#and THE MOST BEAUTIFUL AND MOST ANIME ART STYLE I HAVE EVER SEEN OR WILL EVER SEE#look maybe I’m biased because it was my first after the ghost stories dub (no kidding) but flip flappers is my favourite anime of all time#it and the shelter music video inspired a trope in my own writing that persisted all the way from middle school to 2020#(the isolated girl trapped amid beauty. specifically in her room)#a bunch of my ocs were just Mimi#god. flip flappers is so good and so crazy.#flip flappers#anime#anime recs#GOD AND I FORGOT THE EMPHASIS PLACED ON FRIENDSHIP. IN THIS KINDA FUCKED WAY THAT SPEAKS TO ME SO MUCH#This anime. man. it’s just me this is my brain with 75% more shiny colour and frills
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letterstotheflre · 3 years
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my drug is my baby
summary: sirius is glad he was patient enough with you and takes part of what he has been craving most
warnings: daddy kink, a smidge of religious references, dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering and oral sex (fem receiver), innocence/corruption kink
word count: 3.2k
a/n: i kinda hate this now but i think it’s because i read it too many times, idk || i think it's a universal experience to not being able to cum from your own fingers... right?? and we all know that sirius has a crying kink... also i think it’s so hot when they make you thank them for letting you cum, sue me!!
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Sirius Black liked to believe he was a patient man when he needed to be.
He was known for being reckless, always jumping into the next adventure without much thought, ready to follow James wherever he went. Most of the time he spoke without thinking, especially if he knew his comments would make his parents red with rage. Sometimes he didn’t even mean what he said, he just spewed whatever progressive or controversial opinion he had in hopes of making his mother’s heart stop beating.
He revelled in making rash decisions, somehow always ending up being benefited by them. He never gave much thought to anything: always doing his homework last minute yet somehow still getting top marks, taking some jokes too far, never taking into consideration other people’s safety unless they were close friends.
Some may call him selfish, but he liked not having to put too much thought into every single action. He spent most of his childhood walking on eggshells, afraid of saying the wrong thing and being punished or worse, Regulus taking the beating for him. But now that he finally escaped the Black family, he enjoyed the freedom that came with leaving Grimmauld Place.
He enjoyed breaking rules and creating chaos. It made him feel mighty, knowing he had the power to make all of those choices, still coming out on top, and see how they affected certain people. Most applauded him, revered him for being so spontaneous and adventurous; others couldn’t stand him, complaining about his mean jabs and sometimes harmful pranks.
Yet he knew how to wait for the things he deemed important or worthy. He knew that it was best to wait for Euphemia’s cherry pie to cool down before eating it, to wait for three days after the full moon to make a werewolf joke to Remus, to wait a few hours after James lost a Quidditch match to suggest a quick trip to The Three Broomsticks. And he knew it was best to wait for you.
Good things come to those who wait, that was his mantra. Of course, most of his restraint when it came to you was because he cared deeply about you and your comfort, but his conscience also drove him to keep his hands to himself. Every time his hands were about to go under your skirt, every time he heard your breathy moans when he kissed your neck, every time you looked at him with pouty lips begging for a kiss and his fingers craved to squeeze your neck, he took a step back. He felt so guilty for tainting something that in his mind was so pure, so he just held you close and peppered your face with kisses until you giggled.
But the thought of you being so untouched and how bashful you looked when he teased you or someone made a sexual comment made him want to ruin your innocence. Something inside him craved to see you tainted, to have you writhing under him as he rolled his hips against yours while you clutched his shoulders. He wanted to take that holiness you had and turn it into something so sinful that there was no way for you to ask for redemption.
And when you opened the door and took the first step, who was he to deny you?
He dragged everything out. Since the day when he taught you how to touch yourself, he wanted to make you wait for every sexual act that followed. He wanted to see how long it would take for you to beg him for some relief.
So today during a lecture when you looked at him with glazed over eyes and begged him to help you relieve the strange ache you felt in your stomach since you woke, he decided to be benevolent and give you some relief. He swiftly moved his hand under your skirt (thanking God that most of your closet consisted of that particular piece of clothing and dresses) and pushed aside your underwear before his fingers made way between your dripping folds. He didn’t enter you, just played with your clit until you had to bite the back of your hand to muffle your moans.
But when you whispered a small “thank you, daddy” and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, the only thing he wanted to do was take you back to his room and press you to the bed until your legs shook and tears ran down your cheeks. His eyes quickly scanned the classroom to make sure no one saw or heard anything, shoulders tense because of your words. All he could see were students with their own glassy eyes as they listened to whatever the professor was talking about. Fucking tease, Sirius thought.
And now, as he watched you on your knees and clutching his leg, lips pouty and cheek nuzzling his jean covered thigh, he was thankful for being patient enough.
“Please, Sirius, they’re back,” you said. He knew exactly what you were talking about, but played dumb as one hand petted your hair. “What’s back, baby?”
“The tingles,” you explained.
“And you need me to fix it, hm?” A small taunt was evident in his tone. “Your hands aren’t enough anymore, right bunny?”
Your cheeks warmed up at the implication, nevertheless, you shook your head. You still managed to make yourself cum, but the way Sirius could play with your clit like an experienced musician and how his big hands moved your hips along his jean covered leg would never compare to your dainty digits. The thought of his big fingers inside of you was enough to increase the tingles, and your hands pressed down on your stomach trying to soothe the pain.
“Please, Sirius, it hurts so bad,” you whimpered.
“Use your words, angel. Be good,” he said. You looked up at him with watery eyes, your mind already slipping and not letting you form too many coherent thoughts. “Please, daddy,” you sniffled.
He kept petting your head. “What do you want, angel?” He asked, looking almost bored with the situation as he listened to your pleads. “Anything,” you whined.
He shook his head, mocking disappointment. “You know you have to ask for what you want, puppy.” Even though he wasn’t angry, honestly a little amused at your desperation, his voice was stern, trying to engrave his rules in your fuzzy brain.
Your hands squeezed his leg, “I need you… down there.”
“You need to be clearer.''
You closed your eyes. You hated being so crass, but Sirius certainly had no qualms about it. “I need you… in my pussy,” you got out. But it wasn’t enough, not for Sirius who longed to ruin every aspect of your innocence. “What do you want, baby? D’ya want my fingers or my tongue?”
“Both,” you whined. Bingo, he thought with a dark smirk that would’ve sent shivers down your spine if you weren’t absolutely drenching and desperate for his touch. “Up you get, puppy,” he said, “lay on the bed f’me.”
You got on the bed right next to him, your head laying on one of your fluffy pillows. Your dress rode up a bit with your movements, but it didn’t really matter, and you pressed your legs together trying to relieve some of the tension while you waited for Sirius to do something. He simply watched you, taking in the image of you wriggling in place and toying with the rings he bought you for your birthday.
You felt a soft touch on your calves, and it gave you a fluttering feeling in your stomach. Sirius’s hands were moving slowly up your legs, nudging them apart without needing much force since you complied immediately. You were about to burst, ready to scream at him to just get on with it, but decided to keep quiet.
One of his hands made its way to the edge of your dress, swiftly going under it and his fingers slightly grazing your clothed pussy. Your hips bucked at the soft touch, but then just as quickly as it came it was gone. “No, come back!” you implored, reaching for Sirius’s wrist but being too slow.
Sirius arched one eyebrow, “What was that?”
“I’m sorry!” you cried out, “M’sorry, I just need you so bad. It hurts.” But Sirius remained where he was, arms now crossed over his chest as he looked at you. His eyes were full of disappointment and you wanted to cry, “What’s gotten into you today? You were so demanding in class before, so bratty, I don’t think you deserve it at all.” He was stretching the truth, you were by far the least bratty person he had ever been with, but he couldn’t help himself when he saw how much his words affected you.
A few tears fell at his words, “No, no, m’not bratty. I’m a good girl, daddy. I promise I’ll be so so good, your best girl! I won’t ask for anything more, m’sorry.'' You were saying anything you could to convince him that you were still his good girl, his angel.
Your lips were quivering and your chest was heaving with sobs you tried to keep inside; babbling apologies and trying to convince him that you would never act like this again, and he finally took pity on you. His hands gripped your ankles and opened your legs so he could lay comfortably between them. He could see a dark patch on your lavender underwear, and he huffed out a laugh with a slightly amused shake of his head. “I forgive you, bunny, but you’ll have to take everything that I give you. D’you think you can do that f’me?”
You nodded eagerly, choking a small ‘thank you’ as you tried to control your breath. He grabbed the ends of your dress and bunched it up over your waist, not bothering to take it off. He licked a strip over your underwear and the combination of his warm tongue with the friction of the cotton cloth was enough to make you mewl.
Sirius could not deny that he had been craving to taste you once more after he licked your fingers clean that day, and now only getting a smidge of your taste from what seeped through your underwear drove him insane. He needed to taste you completely, so he quickly pulled them off and pocketed them in the back of his jeans.
He used his fingers to spread your folds wide open, staring hungrily at all the slick that had gathered. “Oh puppy, look at the mess you’ve already made,” he crooned. “Y’re dripping, d’ya really need me this bad?”
“Yes, so so bad. Please, daddy.” He was so close, his warm breath hitting your wet folds and making you tremble in anticipation.
You watched, using your elbows to raise yourself a little, as he slowly started to take his rings off. “Hold ‘em for me, bunny, don’t want them to get dirty,” he said as he slid his chunky rings into your fingers. The metal dangled a little because of the size difference, so you closed your hands to keep them from falling.
Finally, his tongue made contact with your clit and you sighed in relief. It was followed by a moan when he started to suck on it, making sure to swirl his tongue all around before slurping. He looked like a starved man that finally came into contact with some sweet fruit, moving his head around your pussy to have you gushing on him. The ache in your tummy was slowly decreasing, now replaced with a nice fluttering feeling.
Your whines and moans echoed through his ears, resembling the most beautiful angel choir he had ever heard. He pulled away for a moment, “I’ve been waiting to taste you for days, puppy. S’better than I remembered.”
The more he pushed his tongue inside you, the more your legs shook. You involuntarily closed them, your pillowy thighs acting as earmuffs around Sirius’s head. He let them rest there for a few seconds before pushing them open once more, adding more fervour to his movements, eager to drink your sweet ambrosia.
Your closed fists went to his head, and you opened them a little to grip his hair, trying to ground yourself. “Gonna cum, daddy, can I?” You breathed out. Sirius just hummed, sending vibrations that were enough to make you let go. You tried to close your legs once more, but his shoulders prevented you from doing so. You felt like you were floating, your brain shutting off for a few seconds before returning to earth.
But Sirius didn’t stop moving his tongue, one of his fingers circling your hole before entering you slowly. Just one of his fingers felt like two of yours, even though you knew it wasn’t an accurate comparison. The stretch this time burned more than when you touched yourself, and you whined while shaking your head. “Too much, s’too much.”
Sirius paused for a moment so he could press your legs to your chest with one hand while the other kept moving in and out of you. The sudden switch in position made you gasp, but not as much as when Sirius thrust his fingers hard. “Are you dumb? I told you you had to take everything I gave you. D’you want to make me mad again?”
More tears fell when he curled his fingers, expertly finding that spongy spot inside you that pumped white heat through your veins. The way they twisted resembled a musician fiddling with a harp, your needy whines accompanying them like the main act. “No no, I can take it” you gasped, drowning in bliss as his fingers kept hitting the perfect spots.
You were already so close, Sirius giving you no respite as he quickly pushed his fingers. Your hand gripped his arm, fingertips digging the ink-covered skin. “C-close,” you whined, eyes rolling back and mouth open as you felt the tension ready to break.
“Going to make more of a mess, angel?” he grumbled, and you tried to nod as much as you could in your constricted position. Sirius chuckled, “Dirty little thing. Go on, I’ve got you.”
You whimpered brokenly as he pulled another orgasm from you. It felt like his fingertips were scrapping your insides to drag it out, and your feet dangled in the air as you swung them while trying to grab his wrist to stop him from moving.
Sirius couldn’t tear his eyes from you, with your pretty tears dripping down your cheeks and your chest heaving with small sobs from how good you felt. For him, all for him and only ever for him, because no one had ever touched you like he has and no one else ever would. “You look so pretty like this,” he cooed. “God I love your tears, baby, look how hard you make me.”
Your eyes moved down his body—when had he taken off his shirt? His tattoos splayed over his toned muscles made you clench around his fingers. You adored the small drawings that covered most of his body, they looked so beautiful on him and you just wanted to cry even more at how pretty your boyfriend was. When your eyes moved lower, following his previous instruction, you could see there was already a bulge in his pants that you knew was his cock, and your mouth watered at the thought of it just resting against his stomach like it did the first time you sucked him.
“I wanna feel you,” you cried while stretching your hands to touch him. He let you, your soft palms going over his chest and grabbing his shoulders so you could pull him down. “Kissie,” you breathed, letting his lips hover over yours for a second before kissing you hard and messily. His tongue played with yours and it only added more fuel to the fire inside you.
A moan broke you apart when his fingers resumed their pace, “P-please, no more” you babbled, the stimulation too much to bear.
“How are you gonna take my cock if you can’t take my fingers, hm?” He asked and you whined, his fingers burying themselves up to his knuckles and making your eyes roll back once more. Your mouth was dry from being constantly open, whimpers and moans constantly escaping from the open cavity. “Come on, one more, I know you have it in you. My good girl aren’t you?”
The squelching sounds were so dirty and they rang through your ears,  yet even through your fuzzy mind you could discern the important words, “Y-your good girl,” you managed to get out with a smile, glad to be praised by him.
His other hand pressed down on your legs even more, and now you could see the way the digits moved in and out of you, a slight sheen coating the skin every time they came out. “God, you were right, bunny, you are tight,” he grunted, “I don’t think I’ll ever fit, m’gonna break you.”
At that, your eyes widened. “No no, you’ll fit, daddy!” But he just chuckled at your desperation, “M’gonna break you in half, angel. Do you want that? Do you want me to split you open?”
A small chant of ’yes’ and ‘please’ echoed through the room. You could feel another wave coming, ready to wash over you as your toes curled in anticipation. It was like you were dangling on the edge, your hands holding on for dear life as you tried to hold on, and your moans grew louder and louder with every thrust Sirius gave.
Your clenching walls around his digits were warning enough for him, and he kept his eyes on your form as you struggled to keep it at bay, waiting for his permission. He watched as your ring clad fingers scrambled to the sheets, gripping them tightly as your head moved from side to side. “That’s it, bunny, let go f’me” and with one harsh thrust, you slackened the hold you had on your release and finally let go.
If you felt like you were still on your body you would’ve screamed. A white heat engulfed you as your vision grew hazy, your hips raising of their own accord and aiding Sirius in dragging your orgasm out. You looked so beautiful like this, a sweaty sheen on your skin and now tangled up hair sticking to your forehead. Sirius leant down, tongue cleaning the fallen tears before they dried, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you.
He grabbed your face, squishing your spit covered cheeks. “What do you say, angel?”
With a shuddering breath, you looked into his stormy eyes as he cleaned your release from his fingers with his tongue. “Thank you, daddy.”
You tried to lower your legs, but Sirius kept them in place. You stared at him, confused, yet he was staring at your puffy cunt, all shiny and stretched out for him. A smirk covered his lips as he finally looked at you, “I think y’re finally ready for m’cock, angel.”
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taesspark · 3 years
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A Normal Friday Afternoon
drabble #1 from the Spellbound series
pairing: Jungkook x reader
genre: enemies to lovers (but mostly enemies so far oops), hogwarts au
word count: 2.2k 
warnings: violence (oc punches jungkook in the face), swearing
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It’s a normal Friday afternoon at Hogwarts, meaning everyone is going insane. You wonder why Professor Snape even bothers teaching Potions right now since it doesn’t look like anyone is paying the slightest bit of attention. He even chose a hard potion for the class to make, individually this time. As if making it an individual assignment could stop a group of annoying 17-year-olds from wreaking havoc. 
You flicker your eyes in annoyance at Jeon Jungkook and his rowdy group of friends. They had created a game where they launch the ingredients into each others’ cauldrons, giving each other points based on how close it got. Usually you try to get along with your classmates, especially fellow Gryffindors, but Jungkook has always been the sole exception. There’s something about him that grates all of your nerves like a carrot. Maybe it’s the way he’s good at all the same things you are, but he makes it seem more effortless. Maybe it’s the way everyone thinks he’s so innocent and kind, when he’s been metaphorically (and literally) pulling on your hair since first year. 
It started with the little things. You were friendly to him, like you are to everyone, and as an 11-year-old, you had nothing to complain about. Something changed one day when you were walking past him in the hallway to class and he hit you with a hex that he hadn’t mastered yet. You remember falling to the ground in pain, watching your stinging flesh go boneless. And Jungkook? He was laughing.
You’re no less of a witch or a Gryffindor though. With your limp arm, you cast the strongest dancing hex you could muster. It worked, of course, and Jungkook was known as “Happy Feet” for at least another year for the way he danced around Hogwarts that day. 
It’s a memory you keep close, as a reminder to never trust the sweet smile and starry eyes of Jeon Jungkook. 
If you looked at all of the detentions you’ve served in your 6 years of being a Hogwarts student (and there are plenty), you’re sure 99% would have been from fighting with Jungkook, whether it’s yelling at him, cursing him, or swatting him with your broomstick in midair during Quidditch practice. Because of course he would join the Quidditch team at the same time you did. 
You’re not in the mood for fighting today, though. You’re exhausted from a frankly awful week, and you just want to finish your stupid potion, get your stupid grade, and go to your stupid dorm so you can sleep. 
Your only good friend in this potions class is a Ravenclaw girl named Nina. For a Ravenclaw, she’s chatty, and she flits around you while you grind up asphodel root for your potion. With a quick slide of your knife, you dump the crushed root into your potion. It bubbled. Beside you, Nina bubbled even more, her personality like soda that had been shaken too hard. 
“-and then Emilia told me that she asked Irene if she would go with her to Hogsmeade next weekend, but Irene said she’s already going with Jieun, but Sam told me that Jieun is going alone, so what’s even the truth? You’d think that she’d at least-” 
“Maybe you should mind your business.” You give her a sour look, and you hope it isn’t too harsh. “Just a thought.” 
Nina’s mouth curls into a rueful smile. “You’re spending too much time with Yoongi lately.” 
You crack a smile at the thought of your best friend and his (only partly true) reputation. No one dares cross Min Yoongi, a 7th year Slytherin with a killer poker face. As one of his best friends, you can see right through it. 
“There’s no such thing as too much time with Yoongi,” you grumble. 
Nina leaves you alone after that, thank god. You usually have a higher tolerance for her chattiness and gossip, but today your patience is running thin. Luckily, she knows you well enough to not seem upset at your attitude. 
You sprinkle a serum into the potion before stirring it clockwise ten times. It’s the last step of the potion, and yours is already turning the perfect shade of mint green. You count to yourself as you stir: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight-
You don’t make it to ten. You were so goddamn close. 
“Oh, shit-”
You don’t register who curses. All you can see is a bottle of serum—someone else’s bottle of serum— being launched straight into your cauldron, and your entire potion splattering onto your front. Your robes sizzle where the potion hit them. 
“Oops.” 
You recognize that voice. How could you not? You almost want to laugh. 
Fucking Jeon Jungkook. 
The leech lumbers up to you sheepishly, scratching at the back of his head. “My bad. We were playing a game, and I missed pretty bad.” 
He chuckles a little, surveying the green ooze all over you. “Green is your color, Y/N. Maybe they should’ve put you in Slytherin.” 
You’re seething. 
A temper is not one of the traits associated with Gryffindor, but at that moment, you think maybe it should be. Lions do roar, after all. 
And roar is exactly what you do. Roar and knock Jungkook the fuck out. 
The room is in chaos: Professor Snape is yelling, Nina is telling you to calm down, Jungkook is on the ground in front of you, more shocked than hurt, and half the class is chanting “Fight!” because the adolescent urge to create violence never truly dies. 
“Take this outside!” Snape shouts at the two of you, grabbing you both by the collar of your robes. “Fight in the hallways, I don’t care, but this is not going to happen in my classroom. When you’re done, head to McGonagall’s office. I’m sure she’d like to have a word with you two delinquents.” 
Jungkook stares at you, rubbing at the bruise blooming on his cheek. 
The door swings closed, slamming in your face. With a huff, you turn around and vanish the potion residue still left on your clothes with a quick spell. You barely spare a glance for Jungkook. He stands several feet away, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. 
“Do you have something to say?” You snap. 
He opens his mouth. Then closes it. 
You roll your eyes. “Listen, Jeon. I know you did that on purpose. Very funny prank, absolutely hilarious. Truly, I’m rolling on the floor laughing right now.” 
Jungkook’s eyes drop to the floor as if he expected to see you there, laughing. 
“Let’s just go to McGonagall’s already,” you say, posture slumping at the thought of being yelled at by the intimidating professor.  
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he says. Jungkook rolls his shoulders, and you see him gain some of his usual bravado. “We were playing a game, I already explained this to you.” 
You bark out a laugh, just one. “I’m not stupid.” 
He cocks a brow. “Are you sure? I bet my potion was better than yours even though I was dicking around for the entire class.” 
“Fuck off.” 
“Hit a nerve?” 
“No.” 
It’s like this, for the long, long, long trek from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower where McGonagall’s office is. 
“You know, you don’t have to be such an asshole all the time,” you say, turning the corner. Jungkook jogs after you to keep up. 
“I don’t? No way, all this time I thought it was mandatory.” 
He sounds more upset than snarky, and in your present state of blind rage, you don’t have a single clue why he would be upset. He’s the one who ruined your potion and got you sent to McGonagall’s office. He’s the one who has been a splinter the size of Greenland in your thumb for five years and counting. 
“Besides,” he adds, as if you wanted to have a conversation with him, “you’re the one who fucking punched me in the face. It’s kinda hypocritical to call me an asshole in this situation.” 
“That’s a really big word, Jungkook. Did you finally learn how to read?” 
Jungkook’s face crumples into a frown. “Shut up.” 
“Hit a nerve?” You mock. 
You think getting to McGonagall’s office is a relief until you’re finally there. McGonagall is all but screeching at the two of you. You’ve heard the same lecture several hundred times, but never in such a high pitch. You offer to make her some herbal tea for her throat, and she only gives you the evil eye. Jungkook snorts beside you. You ignore him, nudging him in the ribs with your elbow. 
“Never in my days…”
“...Such stupidity from my own students!”
You fade in and out of consciousness during the lecture, and one look at Jungkook tells you he’s doing the same. 
“Detention for both of you. I will see the two of you here at 9 pm sharp every day for the rest of the week,” McGonagall finally says. 
Jungkook groans. 
“I’m being generous,” McGonagall says. “If I see the two of you acting like violent animals again, I can and will suspend you both from the Gryffindor Quidditch team.” 
You and Jungkook both make sounds of protest, only to be drowned out by McGonagall. 
“I hate to see my own team lose, but it has been five years of your childish fights. You two will learn to be civil to each other, and I will make sure of it.” 
The tone of her voice makes you uneasy. Jungkook beats you to the question that’s on both of your minds. “What are you going to do to us?” 
The fear in his voice would make you smile if you weren’t practically shaking in your boots yourself. 
“As you know, in Transfiguration, I am going to be having everyone work in teams this year. I was going to let you choose your partners, but you two have not earned that privilege.” 
You turn to face Jungkook. He’s staring back at you in wide-eyed horror. 
“You both are now partners in Transfiguration. Sit by each other and complete the projects together. I will not tolerate any misbehaving in my class, and if you don’t work as a team, you will be risking your own grades.” McGonagall stares at the two of you with the smallest of smiles, disgustingly smug. She’s enjoying this, and you hate her for it. 
“But-”
“Professor!” 
“I won’t hear it!” She shouts. Jungkook recoils. “This is final. If you have a problem, you should’ve thought about that before brawling like wrestlers in Potions.” 
You hang your head, staring at how the end of your robes skims your shoes. You don’t like to be dramatic, but this sure feels like the end of the world. The rest of your year is probably ruined, thanks to McGonagall essentially sentencing you to Jungkook duty. Not to mention Transfiguration is your hardest class, even without having to compete with Jungkook. You don’t doubt that this would make everything so much harder. 
“That’s all I have to say to you. Please leave,” McGonagall says, pressing a thumb and index finger into her forehead. 
The two of you file out of her office, stumbling down the empty hallway. You walk in silence, thankful that classes aren’t out yet. You stop a few corridors down, and Jungkook stops next to you.
You look at him, really look at him. Other than the bruise on his face a la you, he has a sweet face and kind eyes. You remind yourself that it’s fake. 
You take a step closer to him, and he tilts his head at you, nonplussed. 
“Y/N?” 
You brush a hand on his cheekbone, where you hit him. 
“Does it hurt?” You ask. 
The hallway is empty, but Jungkook still looks both ways before responding to you, as if you were a car hurtling towards him on the street. He gulps at your proximity to him, how he can feel your breath mingling with his own and your fingertips’ gentle pressure on his face. 
“A little,” he says, quieter than you. “You really know how to use your fists, huh?” 
He laughs. To your ears, it sounds forced. You smile. Checkmate. 
Without warning, you grab his tie and jerk his face down to yours, leaving just a breath of space between your noses. You lean even closer to Jungkook, and a smile ghosts your lips when you feel him moving closer to you at the same time. You wait for one more moment, letting your warm breath hit his skin. The moment he closes his eyes, you whisper, “Good.” 
His eyes flutter back open, confused, and you take your foot and slam it down on his. He all but howls in pain, nearly knocking his head into yours as he hops away. 
"What was that for?"
"If you still don't know, then maybe I need to step on you again." You narrow your eyes at him, still close enough to register the clean linen smell of his clothes. “Do not cross me again. I need a good grade in Transfiguration this year, and I won’t let you ruin that for me.” 
"McGonagall is right there. I could go tell her," he threatens. His eyes are wide, and you pick up on the slightest fear under his façade of arrogance. 
"Okay, do it. See if I care, asshole." 
You spin on your heel and storm down the corridor, leaving a stunned Jungkook in your wake. 
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siriuslyshewrote · 4 years
Text
In The End - Shelby!Sister
Request - Shelby sis prompt(s): Included a few in case they are pretty awful lol but just maybe they might inspire you a bit - your creativity would make them good! 1. She gets kidnapped by sabini / changretta and it follows her brothers going absolutely insane trying to get her back between her trying to survive
Okay, so this is kinda a sequel to Good Grief, but you don’t really need to read it, I’ll just be using a bit of the storyline.
John’s still alive. I refuse to accept his death.
Warnings - blood, swearing, kidnapping
10:38 // 3rd May
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- - - - Bonnie - - - -
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The boys footsteps were quick, an almost run, a tell of the frantic thoughts he was having, whilst trying to reassure himself at the same time. His face was slightly sweaty - he’d ran over a few miles to get here - by the time he reached the door of the house he knew well.
He usually would have hesitated, slightly nervous, before knocking, but there wasn’t time for that. He needed the reassurance, the smile of the girl he loved, to calm his fast beating heart, and the feeling in his stomach, that something was so very desperately wrong.
His knuckles were still sore off the last bare knuckle fight he had, but he didn’t care, rapping on the door loud enough so that the residents inside could hear above the chaos that usually reigned inside the house at 6, Watery Lane, Small Heath.
The door swung open quicker than he thought it would, and so he jumped a little, pulling his cap off his head, holding it in his hands, playing with the soft fabric, trying to calm that damn feeling in his stomach. His thumb accidentally brushed over the blade sewn in there - the crown of a king, one of the Blinders had once told him - and blood appeared on the skin. He didn’t even look at it, instead paying his attention to the woman in front of him.
“Miss Shelby - Gray.” He quickly corrected himself. “Is she here?”
The woman’s forehead creased a little, her previously soft eyes hardening a little. Polly Gray, of all people, would be able to share the feeling he had right now.
“Who?” Her voice sounded as though she wished for a different answer to what he would give her.
“Y/N? Is she here?”
She paused. “No. Bonnie, why would she be here?”
“She..” Bonnie’s heart thrummed faster than before, his mind spinning with thoughts of what could have happened, none of them good. He swallowed. “She said she was coming to the market, to get something ... she said she would make dinner tonight, she’s really excited-“
“Bonnie.” Her voice was harsher now, the anxiety he felt now visible in her eyes. “When did you last see her?”
“Three hours ago. I thought - I thought she got distracted, thought she came here, maybe, to resolve everything , but I just - I had a bad feeling. I had to come check on her.”
The sickening feeling he had had for hours was worse now. The smell of blood from his thumb reached his nose, and he couldn’t help but think about who else could be bleeding right now. Guilt filled him - why didn’t he come and check on her sooner?
Polly turned round, quickly, leaving the door open behind her, which he guessed was a sign to follow her deeper into the house, walking fast towards the kitchen, then to the curtains, pulling them open fast, to reveal what looked like a family meeting.
“Bonnie Gold.” Tommy’s stony blue eyes regarded him, not filling him with the usual feeling of intimidation, but with anger. If anything had happened to her, it was because of the family that was sat in front of him.
“Mr Shelby, I-“ He hated that he still felt the need to address the man in front of him formally after everything he had done to ruin his and Y/N’s relationship.
“Y/N’s missing.” Polly interrupted him, standing slightly in front of him, her shoulders rising and falling quicker than usual, becoming panicked. “She’s missing , Thomas.”
“What the fuck do you mean?” John’s voice was louder than the rest of the family’s in the chaos, his eyes very firmly fixed onto Bonnie with a look of such intense anger, Bonnie was surprised he didn’t launch himself across the room and hit him in the face.
“She’s fucking missing?” Esme’s voice was loud too, her usual strong voice permeated with panic. She had cared for you like a parent - and you had lived with her and John until you moved out four months ago - and Bonnie knew how much you would hate seeing her in distress right now, no matter if you weren’t particularly talking to any of them.
Bonnie’s fingers were still picking at his cap, his foot tapping on the ground with the anxiety he was feeling - not because of the Shelby family, no, he didn’t give a fuck about them right now. He cared about you, where the hell you could possibly be.
You didn’t have any close friends - being a Shelby didn’t exactly invite a lot of people to want to be close to you, and apart from the family in front of you, he had no clue where you would be. You had been nervy for months, not really liking being alone, a product of how you had grown up, in constant danger, really, and so he couldn’t imagine you deciding to go anywhere new. He hated himself, now, for his gentle insistence over the past months, trying to get you to be more independent - if he hadn’t, perhaps you wouldn’t ever have left him this morning.
It seemed so eerily coincidental that at exactly the moment the family found out about you going missing, the phone started to ring.
- - - - Y/N - - - -
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You were only supposed to be gone an hour or so, at most, just a quick trip to the market in Small Heath, for some of the food you had been craving for weeks, for dinner. Perhaps if you hadn’t taken the detour you had, you wouldn’t have been in the situation you now were, or perhaps you would.
You had been desperate to see your family, though you hadn’t told anyone that, still keeping up your stubborn facade that Bonnie had been trying to break down for months. You were still angry, of course you were, at your brothers, which extended to the rest of the family, who, of course, took their side. You didn’t want to speak to them, per say, just see them, just to see that they were okay. You hadn’t talked to any of them, aside from Ada in London, since you had stormed out of John’s house months ago, after finding out what they had said to Bonnie, not even to Finn, which was killing you. You hadn’t ever even spent a full day away from your twin brother before, and so it half felt like you were missing a limb, but you knew out of them all, it would be Finn that would be able to convince you to talk to them again, and so, you stayed distant. And so did they.
There was a small alley, just a few metres away from where the market was held, and it was well known to you - it was a shortcut home, if you and Finn ever stayed out just too late, and needed to get back home before Aunt Polly stormed the streets of Small Heath trying to find you. None of the Shelby’s still lived in the house on Watery Lane, but it was still their main point for business, and you had no doubt that the majority of them would be there. You didn’t think that it was stupid to go into that alley - didn’t think that you, for once, didn’t have the safety of your brother with you - but you should have.
Because as soon as you were only a few feet into the dark alley, you felt cold metal being struck into the back of your head with so much force that you crumpled to the ground, blacked out, before you could even comprehend what had happened.
- - - - Bonnie - - - -
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It was Thomas that took the phone call, of course. He didn’t show any emotion, simply listening to it, though his stony facade was betrayed by the whites of his knuckles showing through his skin, with how tightly he was gripping the telephone. The room was silent, no one even breathing, waiting for the news that they were sure was in that phone call.
Tommy placed the phone down on the reciever with a slam, one of his hands rubbing his face, in stress.
“Fuck.” He exclaimed, his voice gruff and angry.
“What the fuck’s happened?” John was the first to speak, the brother that was arguably the most protective over you, getting up from the table.
“Some fucking gang has her-“
“What?” Bonnies voice was louder than the others, his tone furious and terrified. “What the fuck do you mean?”
Finn was the only one sat in silence, his hands gripping the wooden table, knuckles white, head bowed as if in prayer.
“Oh god.” Polly whispered.
Tommy regarded him again, but this time there was visible worry in his face. This was his little sister, after all, the one who he had helped raise when their mother died when the twins - Y/N and Finn - were only toddlers. This was the sister who he’d held when she was terrified to go to school on her first day, and later, when she’d been pushed over and laughed at, because of her parents - her drunk father, and ‘crazy’ mother - and ripped her new dress that Polly had spent hours making. It had been him who had taught her how to tie her laces, him who taught her how to climb trees, to kick and punch at the kids who made fun of her.
Yes. It had been Thomas who had protected her , her whole life. And now he was her downfall, the reason she was gone. Him, and his stupid razor gang, that Bonnie now regretted ever being a part of. He dropped the cap from his hands, letting it drop onto the dirty ground.
“We’ll get her back. They want money.”
“Well, fucking give them it!” Polly exclaimed.
Tommy exhaled. “They won’t give her back, even if we do. We have to find her.”
“How do you know that?” Bonnie spat. “Just give them the money!”
“Because these people, they’re greedy. They will just want more and more.”
“How are you going to find her? She could be fucking anywhere.” Bonnie’s voice cracked, and he didn’t try to hide it like he usually would in front of the older men.
“I’ll send my men out. To get information, to look in all the abandoned-“
“And you think that’s going to get her back?”
“Yes. These people - they’re amateurs, I can tell. Someone will have seen something. And they’ll tell us. We’ll get her back.”
“How can you be so fucking sure?”
“Because I know my sister. Do you?”
Part two should be up tomorrow, if people want it!!
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0poole · 4 years
Text
Humor in Writing
    Most of the time I feel like dismissing what might seem like “faults” in writing because I haven’t actually made anything myself, and especially haven’t gotten any attention to what I make, but every once in a while something really ticks me off. Of course, I still try to take it with a grain of salt because of my lack of true experience in writing, but considering I’m hoping to actually become some degree of a writer I feel like it’s worth actually trying to explain what I think is a fault with things and why. 
    There always seems to be one specific thing that bothers me a lot when reading/watching stuff, and it’s the hard switching of tone from comedy to sincerity, or something similar to that, or vice versa.
    Honestly, even though it sounds like the motive of a cartoon villain, I kinda think there’s too much humor in the world. It’s probably just entirely driven by opinion and preferences, but I feel like so many people are striving and looking for comedy that it hinders so many other things. I feel like, both in real life and in writing, having so much humor everywhere creates a pretty big gap between that tone and sincerity, which is pretty much always needed at some point. The big line between comedy and sincerity makes it so much harder, emotionally speaking, to feel good about the switch. I’ll try to explain…
    First of all, this whole line of thought, even though I’ve been thinking it forever, was spawned by me watching Epithet Erased. Took me long enough, because I’ve seen some of the characters around and really loved their designs, but I finally watched it all, and I gotta say… It was interesting. Also, this is probably just going to be very ranty and opinionated but I will (hopefully) have something more valuable to say after. But, anyways, for one, it felt just barely too close to some of the premises for the stories I’ve thought of in various ways, but I guess that’s just bad luck on my part. Second, I feel like its humor really brought it down for me. Some episodes felt so long winded (although not necessarily “boring” I guess) because I felt like I got the joke they were trying to tell relatively quickly after they started it, but carried it so far. It didn’t help that, at least for a few of them, some of the characters felt like archetypes that I’ve seen a lot around the internet, or at least were simple enough that I understood what they were instantly, and when they are carried out through long character-focused moments it felt like nothing was happening. I feel like some of the characters are fine enough, even if I may not like them, but Giovanni and Indus were the two big ones that I thought had a little too much time given to them…
    But more relevant to what I’m trying to say, sometimes the writing jumps way too far from the very comedic tone it’s trying to put out and into it trying to be sincere. The worst case of this was when Sylvie met Mera in the museum storage, and Sylvester tried to out Mera’s nightmares, only to see that her nightmare was the reality she was already in. With the scene change, and Indus becoming more serious with Molly, it felt like a good enough departure from the usual comedic tone to warrant the deeper motive of the character. But, then, of course, they had to trash the whole tone by adding the line about her also being afraid of ducks. There was absolutely no good reason to warrant that line and I will die on that hill. Not only was it just humor, but it was spontaneous “random” humor, and so on… I honestly hope people could just understand where I’m coming from there by how out of place it seems. I feel like the only defense they could use, apart from “just liking it,” would be that it’s comedic relief, but I genuinely feel like since practically the whole thing up until this point was comedy there was absolutely no need for comedic relief. The scene itself is like the opposite of comedic relief, like “Sit down and pay attention” or “Turn your brain back on” or whatever. The climactic point of the scenes before it were reached, meaning the sincere conflict there should be focused on, and apart from that one tiny little line it worked well enough. The fact that it was so tiny and insignificant is basically why I hated it so much. They literally could’ve just scratched it off of the script and only good things would have happened. 
    Something a bit similar happened before when Molly revealed her backstory to Giovanni. It wasn’t quite as bad, but when a scene goes from comedy to “my mom’s dead and my life sucks” you do feel the shift a little too quickly. I feel like it’s not as bad because it could just be Molly’s character, seeing the tragedy of her life as just sort of normal and not really that remarkable, meaning she’s more likely to just randomly bring it up. 
    But I definitely wouldn’t be going off this much about it if there wasn’t at least a little bit more. Zora was literally the reason I wanted to watch the show, because I saw a drawing of her a while back and thought she was just some random OC, but when I heard she was from this show I instantly wanted to watch it a lot more. I think the same thing happened with Molly, but I think I knew she was from the show to begin with. Anyway, Zora was the main character who I loved from the get-go and loved even more the more I learned about her. She’s such a perfect amount of diversion from being a generic cowboy in the little design details, while still being 100% cowboy material. Then, when I saw that her power was “Sundial,” or more generally just time powers, I loved it. The big thing that seems little conceptually is making her key term “sundial” instead of just “time” or whatever, because of how much it relates to her cowboy-ness, with it being associated with the “sun” people often associate with Death Valley and the Wild West and whatnot. Not to mention, it’s just a cool power.
    But that’s kinda the thing, though. She’s so insanely strong. She could literally kill anyone on a whim. I don’t see how anyone could be cracking jokes in her presence. It’s kinda more general of a gripe, but when she aged up Howie it was borderline terrifying, and yet… right after, they’re cracking jokes again. It’s just so jarring. She could have literally reduced him to dust, and they’re so casual about it. I know Percy is supposed to be kinda blind to some obvious things, but I feel like even she could see the horror. That said, though, Percy is also one of my favorites. Her powers feel so natural yet interesting for what she is for some reason. 
Frankly, the visual character designs alone for this show are all really good. Whether or not I’m into the writing, I can’t deny that the show kept me coming back just because it feels so good to just look at it, you know? The minimal animation, vocalized stage directions, and top-down scene view was really interesting to watch, since I’ve never seen it before, and seems like a perfect way to produce more content with less budget. It made everything feel super crisp and tidy, despite being animated so simply. Not to mention that the general lack of animation meant the few scenes where there was traditional-level animation felt really good. The voice acting was also amazing, (again not directly tied to the writing) especially when the voice actors carried their character and emotion from the scene into the stage directions, instead of just reading them out plainly. And, at the very least, the premise of the show is also really interesting (at least to me, mainly because I created 2 stories with a similar idea without even knowing anything about it. Simplified, specific superpowers are just perfect for character designing, you know?) 
But I am kinda acting like the writing was bad, but it really wasn’t all things considered… I’m just not really into comedy, and when the comedy I don’t like is paired with writing and practically everything else I do like it doesn’t sit right with me. Considering this idea and some of the story beats were adopted from a DnD(-esque?) campaign, I feel like it’s much more fine. Frankly, I’m surprised I didn’t realize it sooner. Once I read about that, everything just fell into place. I’m not really into DnD either, though…
So, I feel like there are things to gain from thinking about this. While Epithet Erased is still on the mind, I feel like I’ve realized something about the juxtaposition of comedy and sincerity, that being that comedic characters can exist in sincere surroundings, and vice versa. Zora specifically could be one of these characters, because she’s so powerful that she probably sees everything around her as trivial, while the other characters have more sincere reactions to her obscene power. She could easily crack a sick joke that no one laughs at because she’s the only one who can find humor in whatever’s going on. By contrast, the thing about Mera’s fear of ducks was a product of the scene and not of the character, so it just ruined things. Nothing about it was made to be funny to the characters, it was made to be funny to the audience, even though the audience should be in sincere mode then. 
Another character that I think works like this is Charlie from Hazbin Hotel, who is the sincere personality in a world of complete and total insincerity. She’s basically a more unique kind of straight man (despite being neither straight nor a man), who are always the grounding in comedic casts, like Squidward in Spongebob. I guess in sincere stories there are comedic relief characters, and in comedies there are straight men. You know, these are probably all things other people have figured out already… at least I can feel good knowing I sort of reached them on my own…
    I think a good solution for stuff that’s primarily meant to be a comedy is to make it almost entirely comedic, at least with the inclusion of a straight man if needed. The big name that comes to mind is good ol Monty Python, the backbone of 14 year old boys’ humor style. At some point I realized why I like the humor of The Holy Grail, at least above other comedic movies, is that they don’t hold back at all. At no point whatsoever do they pull back the veil and put in a sincere moment. And, of course, since I can basically recite the entire movie from memory I think it did wonders. I think when it comes to comedies like this, trying to be too sincere at certain points makes it feel even less sincere than if it didn’t have the sincere moment at all. This might be a product of the 00s American family-rated live action comedies who all feel like they fall into that same boat, where the entire movie is hijinks, but then at the very end they pull that all back and have something really impactful happen, with the idea being having some shoehorned message about “family” or whatever. I can group so many movies into that category that it feels almost corporate how many there are like that, and because it’s both overdone and geared towards too generalized of an audience, trying to capture the comedy-lovers and sincere-lovers, it really just fails in both ways. Or, maybe people love them because they’re just barely bad enough to enjoy it in a so-bad-it’s-good sort of way. I dunno. If I wasn’t a little nostalgic for the time those types of movies might be my all-time least favorite.
    But I’m a stick in the mud who hates comedy so I’m not really equipped to tell anyone how to do it right. Instead, I feel like there’s some seriously untapped potential in other forms of “feel-good” tones, like casual lightheartedness and just plain fun. I feel like those two things really work towards creating sincere stories that are still enjoyable, and not just one shot of sadness after another, while still having a dash of impactful emotion in them.
    I feel like this is where Pixar really shines. People say “It’s not a true Pixar movie if you don’t cry at the end” because I think Pixar movies are great at making the audience lower their guard, and when the moment is right, hitting you right in your heart to make you feel the right emotions. For example, what I’d call my favorite movie of all time (for intents and purposes, if not for real), Inside Out, is all about emotional sincerity, where it’s trying to get across how it’s okay to feel sad, even though the world around you tends to say happiness is always what you want. For most of the movie, it’s a pretty casual romp around the inner workings of Riley’s mind, with some jokes thrown in (because it doesn’t have to be completely without jokes). I’m not really sure how to explain it, but the various jokes in Inside out feel like they’re sort of blended with the interesting workings of this fantasy mind-world, like the fact that earworms are just the little blobby workers in our minds sending the memory of the song back up to the control panel for the hell of it, or that our dreams are a product of a Hollywood-like place in our minds. These things definitely are there for humor, but something about them feels much more fun than just any kind of generic comedy. 
    Then, I feel like the most important thing about fun and lightheartedness is that they feel like they blend so much better with the sincere moments. Obviously if it’s too quick it’ll still be bad, but I think it’ll be much less bad than with comedy. Maybe you could think of it like a spectrum with pure comedy at one end and pure tragedy at the other, with fun and lightheartedness just barely crossing the midpoint towards the comedy side. Since there’s less of a gap between it and tragedy compared to pure comedy, it feels less jarring. Plus, it just feels more reasonable logically speaking, since comedy sort of puts up this insincere barrier to sort of suspend the disbelief that the events in question are supposed to be taken seriously, which makes breaking that barrier harder once it’s established. With fun and lightheartedness, there may be an expectation of it sort of maintaining itself but there isn’t as much to say there isn’t something hiding in the background. In Inside Out at least, throughout Joy and Sadness’ journey they are pretty determined to get back to the control panel to save Riley, but they’re for the most part confident they can do it (or, you know, just Joy’s confident), so they sort of interpret the world around them in a more casual light, but with that lower-level need still there. But when Joy falls into the abyss of forgotten memories and the hopelessness sets in, you feel it much more, because it was sort of already there to begin with, and it was just made perfectly clear at that moment. I think Bing Bong’s emotions during the scene also make it pretty emotional, since he’s being casual about his death while also being sincere about his sacrifice for Riley’s sake. Not to mention his inner sadness was outed while talking with Sadness.
    I feel like if I were trying to write an actual essay I could probably phrase all this a lot better. I just think there’s a ton of value to lightheartedness in stories, as opposed to comedy, for the sake of “feeling good.” Pretty much all of my favorite things have that tone to them to some degree, like Wander Over Yonder, my for sure favorite TV show. It definitely feels fun in a way that can elicit laughs, but it’s not a lot like “This is a joke and you should laugh” most of the time (Disregarding the Evil Sandwich, my least favorite character in the show). I also think Steven Universe succeeds very well with that tone, creating an extremely comfy atmosphere when it comes to the less climactic episodes. 
    I also vastly prefer the lighthearted resolutions to the conflicts in lighthearted stories. Frankly, I am infinitely more likely to cry to a comfy and happy resolution than I am to the actual sad parts. I’m not really sure what it is about them, but I guess the characters finally being happy again after emotional turmoil warrants a happy-cry. I swear, if I think too hard about the scene where Riley finally admits her sadness to her parents and just sits in their warm embrace, I tear up. It feels so much better than hijinks-danger-hijink resolution. 
    But yeah, the stories I want to write the most will all inevitably have that sort of lighthearted flair to them, unless of course I choose to go more inherently serious with a story. There’s nothing wrong with that either. 
    With regard to the really big claim I made before about there being too much humor in the world, the themes of Inside Out, and what I said about comedy’s insincere barrier, I really think the world as a whole would benefit from valuing humor a little less. It feels like there are so many situations where people sort of want to maintain their good feelings with humor instead of more directly dealing with issues in a sincere mindset. For example, if people say something disagreeable (but not insane), It feels like too many people resort to making jokes at that person’s expense and not dealing with the issues directly. Obviously if someones saying some insane bullshit it’s fine, but when the more reasonable takes that are just barely put under the same umbrella as the insane shit are made fun of, it really deepens the trench between the people of different opinions. Of course, humor isn’t the only thing deepening that trench, but it really feels like one of them a lot of the time.
    Apart from that, I feel like using humor as a way to distract from general negativity and negative emotions like what Inside Out sort of warns against can be pretty detrimental too. Obviously happiness can still be around, but putting up that kind of barrier between you and the necessary sincerity for emotion with comedy just makes the unpleasantness of the unpleasant stuff that much more unpleasant. I’m saying this one at least out of personal experience, since I have sort of developed to be too subconsciously against super sad and sincere real world scenarios. I haven’t personally felt too many of them myself, but I definitely feel myself blocking off some of my own emotional vulnerability, especially around other people. I can consciously talk against it, like I’m doing now, but I feel like it’s going to take a long time for that barrier to really break. Is humor to blame for that sort of thing? Maybe, with a dash of toxic masculinity and other buzzwords people often avoid for reasons I mentioned in the last paragraph. 
    Even though this one is much more unreasonably generalizable than the last two things, I feel like the popularity of self-deprecating humor across the internet also (probably?) takes a toll on some people. Obviously some people might just use it to their genuine benefit, but since it seems so common surely some people are putting on a self-deprecating face to get along, and eventually maybe even believing what they used to joke about themselves. Either way, it might be a product of an extreme departure from any kind of narcissism, making being self-confident and self-loving just that little bit harder for people.
    But, while I’m not the most equipped to judge writing, I’m even less equipped to actually debate for the existence of all those things, so just know I’m kinda speaking with my heart and not my brain here. People obviously want and need different things, and I’m probably just projecting. Hell, maybe that’s me self-deprecating to not make me seem weird to everyone else. I dunno.
        No matter what, all this reliance on humor really just shows who is and isn’t funny. Sometimes, people really need to get a grip. Frankly, I don’t think I’m that funny either, which is why I’ve kind of had the humor beaten out of me by one too many awkward silences after a weird joke in my elementary/middle school days. I guess that’s my cartoon villain origin story. 
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pascalpvnk · 5 years
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um if ur still taking blurbs.... 54,37,38 🥺
1.1k of best friends to lovers that has been sitting in my inbox for two months (I’m so sorry) and being put together piece by piece. I’m kinda really not satisfied with how it turned out but it is what it is. I hope that at least you enjoy. (masterlist linked in bio)
Warnings: fluff, swearing, teasing (in a friendly way), lactose intolerance, a tickle fight, confessions of love
14*: “Just please be my best friend right now, not the guy I just confessed my love to.”
37: “You look like you need a hug”
38: “I can’t believe you don’t like Disney movies”
“Do you want a bite?” You ask, offering a heaping spoonful of your cookie dough ice cream. The marble top of the island is cool against your bare elbows. Shawn leans on it as well, getting down to your level but with much space between you. It’s the only barrier separating you two apart. 
He gives you a smug look. “You’d be fucking insane to think I’d bite ice cream,” he smirks, clearly thinking he’s hilarious. You try your absolute best not to crack a smile, but the combination of his dimples popping out, eyes crinkling and his own intoxicating smile, it’s pretty damn impossible. Your fingertips reach over to playfully shove his shoulder, and he releases a string of giggles.
“Stop playing! You know what I mean, goose,” you resist the strong urge to boop his scrunched up nose. “It’s gonna melt so please just eat it.” Offering him the spoon once again, you expect him to take it in his hand. 
The words “my pleasure” roll off his tongue and are as sweet as honey, making you feel all warm and tingly inside. Instead of taking the whole utensil between his fingers, he wraps his lips around the end of it, taking the scoop of ice cream away. His dark, chestnut eyes bore into yours and you could stare into them for hours on end. Blood rushes to your cheeks and a bit down south, the sight of him making you melt in place of the ice cream.
He hums quietly, but you definitely don’t miss it. “That was good. I can see why it’s your favorite.” He’s using the same silky tone that he had before and it’s driving you nuts. You bite the inside of your cheek and nod before shoving some ice cream into your own mouth. Anything that can help cool you down will be useful. 
You constantly debate with yourself whether or not you should tell him how you feel. But you don’t think you could survive if you ruin the friendship you already have if he doesn’t feel the same. When he pulls shit like this though, it’s pretty difficult to contain yourself and shove those words down. But then again, the things you’d do just for him to give you a chance are infinite, within reason of course. 
“You okay? You’re kinda flushed.”
Your attention snaps back up to him. Yeah, you got lost in your head again. Blinking a couple times, you come up with a fib on the spot.
“Yeah, just starting to get a stomach ache. Yunno,” you pause, “…lactose sensitivity or whatever.”
Shawn shakes his head and laughs, “you never learn, huh? It’s okay though, I love you still, but I’m taking this away from you.” He takes the bowl and backs away out of your reach. Your stomach flutters at his words. I love you. Not exactly the context you want it, since he’s your best friend and not your boyfriend, but it’s better than nothing. Anything from him is better than nothing at all.
You put on your best pout, not expecting him to actually confiscate your precious bowl of ice cream. 
“Awe, you look like you need a hug,” he teases, totally mocking your pouty face. Without another word, he sets down the bowl and starts toward you. Everything in you begs that something snapped and he’s just going to kiss the shit out of you and confess his heart to you, but it’s much too good to be true. 
Shawn swiftly throws you over his shoulder as his fingers attack your sides. Your body freezes before you begin to squirm. You hate it when he tickles you. It makes you feel helpless and like you can’t breathe. Plus he makes you ugly laugh when he tickles you hard enough. But then again, you kind of love it. You love it when he laughs back and the feeling of his hands on you is addicting. You’re mad at yourself for loving it even a little because you know damn well that you only love it that little bit because you’re so in love with him.
After a few seconds of cackling, losing your breath, and almost peeing yourself, Shawn tosses you on the couch. He stalks across the room to the TV like nothing happened. 
“That wasn’t a hug, you bitch,” you pant.
“Shush, I’ll hug you in a second. Pick a movie, anything but Disney, though.” He shuffles through the cases he has in his hands, eyeing the other movies that are in the cabinets. 
“Even after knowing you for forever, I can’t believe you don’t like Disney movies. You’re literally a child trapped inside a man’s body.”
“But you love my body so it’s okay,” he smirks. 
“Shut the fuck up. Maybe I don’t love you at all, huh? With your cocky, Disney hating ass.” Oh the lies that slip past your lips. 
He’s quiet for a moment and you worry that you played too much and hurt him. Quietly, he puts a movie into the DVD player and sits down on the end of the couch that is opposite of you. 
“Shawn,” you test to see if he’s okay, “hey, I was kidding. You know I love you. Well, I love you more than you probably know considering I’m in love with you but I-”
Everything following your word vomit seems like it’s in slow motion. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat. His expression completely changes from blank to shocked. He locks eyes with you and your entire being shatters when it isn’t a look of mutual endearment, just cold shock. You feel so stupid.
“Disregard that! Everything I just said, forget about it and let’s watch the movie. Just please be my best friend right now, not the guy I just confessed my love to.” You would give a lot in this moment to be able to sink into the sofa. 
His silence scares the ever living shit out of you. Typically, you can sit together in silence for hours and be comfortable, but you probably haven’t ever felt more uncomfortable in your life.
The audio from the television distracts you as he scoots closer to you and cautiously puts his head on your shoulder. It takes you off guard. Your eyes well up with tears and you’re unsure of how you feel in this very moment.
“I can’t just be your best friend if I feel the same way,” he whispers.
With everything coming together in the most beautiful way—much more beautiful than you could ever imagine—with the physical and metaphorical warmth of him on you, you couldn’t feel more comfortable. Comfortable with him and comfortable to know that he will be with you even more in the future. Comfortable with the fact that he is your future. 
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wholesome-holland · 5 years
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Back To December
Hey guys! This imagine is loosely based off of the song “Back To December” by Taylor Swift. I hope you like it! ( @tyrus-is-endgame-fight-me )
Word Count: 3143 (wHOOPS)
——————
It was the beautiful and chilly month of February in Shadyside.
The sidewalks were lined with long grasses and colorful flowers all around, the sun out and beaming with the clouds occasionally blocking it from the town.
It was around 23° on this fine Wednesday, around 6 or 7 p.m.
TJ Kippen was strolling around town, no specific reason. He just wanted to go for a walk. He stuck his earbuds in, clicked on Pandora and that was that.
TJ found himself in the neighborhood of his ex-boyfriend, Cyrus Goodman. He decided he'd hold his breath, and continue his walk.
With every passing minute he came closer and closer to passing Cyrus' house. He felt himself going slower as he passed the house, coming to an almost complete stop.
He looked over the house, just observing and remembering. He even saw the silhouettes of Leslie and Todd in the living room.
TJ simply smiled softly to himself, he couldn't help but wonder how they're doing. He always loved being at Cyrus' house and being around his folks. All four of them. They were so kind and funny, they treated him like part of the family even before he and Cyrus were together. 
TJ blinked back small tears and continued with his walk before he got home, and went directly to bed.
The following day at school, TJ was exiting the gym and getting ready to head to his last period when his body came to a halt.
He saw Buffy and Cyrus talking at Cyrus' locker. "Hey Cy, I haven't seen you much today." Buffy spoke.
"Yeah, sorry. I've been kinda dodging everyone today." Cyrus said, sounding gloomy. TJ wished he could fix whatever was wrong.
He listened to Buffy and Cyrus talk. It was nothing major, he shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but he couldn't help himself. Buffy and Cyrus took off, or so he thought. As he was walking and not paying attention, he came in contact with someone else's smaller frame.
"Sorry, I—" TJ's breath hitched when he recognized Cyrus' voice. "Oh, hi TJ." He said. "Hey Cyrus." TJ replied. They stood in silence for a few seconds. "How are you?" Cyrus asked.
"I'm okay, I—I guess. You?" He stammered nervously over his words. Cyrus shrugged, a semi blank yet painful look on his face. "I've been alright." His voice hardened, but not too harshly. Cyrus was visibly tense, so TJ sighed and pushed past him, mumbling a quick "sorry" as he left.
TJ didn't even go to class. He went to an empty classroom where he would most likely not get caught. He knew he wouldn't. This wasn't the first time he'd gone there, and it surely wouldn't be the last.
He sat on the floor in a corner, fidgeting with his fingers and staring off. His mind was racing with different thoughts. Everyone being about Cyrus.
He understood why Cyrus was so, what was the word? Cautious? Careful? Guarded? All of those. They hadn't spoken in months, and their last conversation wasn't exactly one he was proud of.
"Hey Teej!" Cyrus said excitedly, approaching the swings they frequently visited together.
TJ took a deep breathe, muttering a quick "hey" as Cyrus swiped the snow onto the ground and took a seat on his usual swing.
Cyrus almost instantly furrowed his brows together in confusion, a look of concern crossing his features. "Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, reaching over to grab one of TJ's hands.
TJ snagged his hand away and crossed his arms, his body facing away from his boyfriend.
Cyrus decided to pretend that didn't hurt his feelings, and kept trying to see what was wrong with TJ.
"TJ," Cyrus said softly. "What happened? Talk to me." Cyrus pried.
TJ wouldn't even look at him. He couldn't, he knew if he did, he wouldn't be able to go through with this.
TJ tried to blink away the tears forming in his eyes, turning even further form Cyrus. "We need to break up."
Cyrus just about jumped. He surely had to have heard TJ wrong, right? TJ didn't say that.
"What? I'm sorry I think I heard you wrong. I thought you said—" TJ cut off his sentence. "That we need to break up? Yeah, that's what I said." TJ said, trying to cover the pain in his tone with bitterness.
Cyrus froze. "W-What?" Was all he could muster. He swore he'd start crying if he said anything else.
He stood up quickly, walking around to TJ's front side. TJ stood up as well but looked away. "Move, please. I have places to go." He mentally cursed himself for how he was acting, but he had to do it.
"I—uh— wait—I'm—" Cyrus couldn't even form words. If he tried, it came out as word vomit. "Why?" He asked.
TJ didn't respond. He still avoided eye contact. "TJ, look at me." Cyrus almost demanded. Still, TJ was stubborn. "This, this is a sick joke right? Like you're just trying to pull an asshole move or something?" Cyrus felt his voice shake as he talked. He hated that he couldn't keep it steady.
"No it's not." TJ said, staring at his feet, mastering a cold tone. "I have to go. We're done."
TJ stepped past him, his shoulder bumping and brushing against Cyrus'. Cyrus spun around and grabbed TJ's arm, pulling in almost in a circle. "Just tell me what happened. Obviously something did." Cyrus pointed out.
"Nothing happened." TJ hissed. "This was a mistake." That still wouldn't do it.
"A mistake?" Cyrus almost could laugh. "If it was a mistake, why'd you let it go on for six months, huh? Why'd you stay with me, she. You could've easily left me sooner?" He challenged. "If I am correct, if it was a 'mistake' you wouldn't have cared about sparing my feelings so don't even use that excuse, TJ."
TJ sucked in air deeply, releasing it in almost a growl. "Can you just leave it? I already said this is done and told you why."
"No, you didn't actually. You're lying to me. I know you TJ, and I know you're an awful liar." Cyrus hissed out.
"Or— Maybe you were just wrong about me this whole time. Maybe I'm just a prick after all, and maybe I want you to leave me alone and let me go on as who I am." TJ said harshly. He forced out the tone of slight anger, trying to make it seem more real, like he was annoyed.
Cyrus' breathing picked up, his desperation was starting to make its place in his body each time he spoke, as much as he tried to hide it. "But you aren't! TJ you're a good person. I know that, you know it too. I know you do."
TJ stayed quiet as Cyrus started thinking out loud. "This, this is an act. I know it is. I, you, we— we love each other. I love you, you love me. We're boyfriends, we— Uh, you... I remember you told me you love me. And all things you love about me too. And you pay attention to me and you care for me and you're trustworthy and an overall good person so I don't understa—"
"It's not an act! This is who I am Cyrus. And I am not your boyfriend. Not anymore. I already told you, we're done. All of it was fake. My feelings were fake," He had to stop and swallow before saying "I don't love you."
It was that moment that the words left TJ's lips that Cyrus broke. The tears he'd been keeping in, the rage and anger he'd locked in, the pure disgust and feeling of betrayal all let loose.
He stepped up to TJ, looking him right in the eye even if TJ wasn't returning eye contact. He swung and hit TJ in the chest. Cyrus' fists repeatedly struck TJ on the chest, his tears falling. TJ finally grabbed Cyrus by the arms and looked at him— like truly looked at him for the first time this entire conversation.
He felt his heart break. He felt the self hatred wedge itself into his mind. He saw the pain he caused Cyrus, that he wished he could take back. Cyrus ripped his arms away from him.
"You were right Kippen. You're just a cold hearted jerk! You're a jerk and a liar, and I should have never let you help me get that muffin!"
Ouch. TJ thought, watching as Cyrus walked away. When he was out of ear shot, he broke. He was sobbing loudly In his hands before his knees buckled beneath him and he fell to the ground.
Even though he knew it was for the best, it didn't make it hurt any less.
That day, that awful day that changed everything was December 12th.
I'm such an ass. TJ told himself. I should've waited longer, till I knew completely. The dismissal bell rung, signaling the students to leave. He stood up and dash out of the classroom, making his way to the bus and sitting in his regular seat with his things. He looked at the date, February 12th.
It was two months since the break up. Two months since he ruined his own relationship.
The bus stopped, and he saw it was his stop. He  walked home, going instantly to his room and sitting on the floor and facing the window. Two months. Two whole months it had been since he had Cyrus at his side. He felt so guilty still, he wanted to apologize and explain his actions and lies but he couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to find Cyrus, pull him aside, and explain everything.
He saw his reflection and he saw a coward. A coward who was feeling bad for himself when he brought it upon himself. Just for it to mean nothing in the end, and probably hurt even more for Cyrus since he never got some sort of closure.
He knew if it was the other way around, and Cyrus broke up with him out of the blue with no explanation and said the absolutely awful and cruel things TJ said, he would hardly be able to sleep at night. He'd go insane trying to figure out why. And knowing Cyrus, he probably was.
But who knows, maybe he moved on. Maybe he didn't care about TJ. Maybe he even hated TJ. Hell, TJ hated TJ.
Amber walked into her twins room, seeing him sulking by the window. "Hey TJ." She said carefully, making her way over to her brother.
"Hey." He mumbled. "You're thinking about him aren't you?" She asked. He simply nodded. "It's almost been two months." He said. Amber looked at him sympathetically, "T, you're my brother and I love you. You know that, but you also should've listened to me and waited till things were final. Had you waited two more days—" "I fuckin' get it, okay?! I screwed up. I don't need you reminding me too." He hissed.
TJ instantly felt bad. Amber stood up and went to leave when he called out. "I'm sorry, okay? Today was just rough on me."
She stopped and turned back around. "It's okay, and I get it. I would be acting the same way if I was in your position." Amber told him, sitting back down by his side.
"What should I do?" He asked almost inaudibly. "I think you need to apologize. Explain to him the situation. Cyrus is a forgiving person, and he'll understand you were just trying to protect him—" "—in an extremely shitty way?"
"Yeah." She said. After talking to Amber for a few more minutes, he decided he'd do it. He'd go find Cyrus, see if he'll hear him out, and apologize.
Even if he's lost Cyrus forever, due to himself, he needed to know that Cyrus knew why. So that began his jog to Cyrus' house. 
His heart was pumping and the blood was rushing through his veins. The pit in his stomach that hadn't left in two months was more present than it ever had been, and it only felt like two seconds before he was in front of the door and knocking.
He stared at the wood porch flooring, waiting and waiting. He knocked again, waiting a little longer.
Just as he was about to turn and leave, Leslie answered the door. "TJ! What a surprise." She said with a warm smile.
That surprised TJ. Surely she knows everything and hates him. I mean, come on He thought.
"Hi Mrs. Goodman, uh, can I talk to Cyrus? Please? If not it's fine—" She cut him off by holding one finger up.
"Cyrus! Someone's here for you!" She shouted. "Would you like to come in?" She offered. He shook his head, "Could me and him go on a walk by any chance?" He lowly asked. She nodded. "Cy, make sure your being a warm jacket down!"
TJ shivered in his thin hoodie, realizing he shouldn't brought a jacket. It was snowing a decent amount, and the wind certainly didn't help.
He and Cyrus finally met gazes. "Thanks mom, we'll be back soon. Love you." Cyrus quickly said before stepping out side with the door closing behind him.
They stood on the porch, staring at one another. "Could we walk?" TJ asked. Cyrus motioned for him to go on, which began their awkward and silent walk.
TJ was nervous still, but he finally decided to speak up. "This was really random, I know. But I need to explain something." He said hesitantly. Cyrus stopped, looking at TJ with a look saying "go on". 
"You, I, you—we, I um, I'm..." TJ stammered on. "Spit it out." Cyrus said, much harsher than intended as his heart and body ached with pain.
Worried that Cyrus would get fed up and walk away, he began talking really fast and in confusing circles.
"Cyrus, I'm so sorry that I broke up with you and that I hurt you without any explanation. I was lying when I said our relationship was a mistake, and that I didn't love you, I thought it would be what was best for you and I took it too far and I'm so sorry for everything I said. There's no excuses for anything except I am an asshole who decided to lie as a way to protect you and—"
"TJ!" Cyrus shouted. "Slow down. Gather your thoughts, I'm not going." He said, speaking softer than before.
"My dad, he... he lost his job in December. My mom was laid off at work, and we were gonna lose our house. My parents told my sister and I that we were more than likely moving out of Shadyside." TJ explained, talking at a normal and understandable pace.
Cyrus looked confused. "Why does that have to do with our break up?" He asked. "I didn't have the heart to tell you we could have been leaving. I thought for sure we were going and that we were going soon, so I thought breaking up with you and making you hate me wouldn't hurt as much, but it did. And it does. And I'm so sorry for lying to you and for hurting you. You didn't deserve one bit of it." TJ continued with a sad and teary sigh. "I don't expect you to forgive me, but I needed you to know that. Ive owed it to you."
He waited for Cyrus to say something, anything. But nothing. "I'll leave you alone, I'll leave you alone forever if you want that. But please know I am so, so sorry." His voice broke mid sentence, and he turned and started making his way home.
"I still love you." TJ froze dead in his tracks. Tears rolled off his cheeks as he looked back at Cyrus, who had tears of his own staining his face. "I never stopped, I don't know if I can."
Cyrus slowly stepped toward the blonde haired boy, placing a gentle arm on his bicep and turning him around.
"Look, TJ..." Before Cyrus could continue,he was cut off. "Cyrus—" Cyrus shook his head. "Let me talk." TJ quickly shut up. "Teej, what you said to me, it hurt me. A lot. It broke my heart beyond belief, and I never thought I'd be happy again," He started. TJ felt his heart beat rapidly as he waited for Cyrus to continue. "You lies to me and broke up with me without any reason. For that, I don't think I can fully forgive you yet." He continued on.
Cyrus grabbed one of TJ's hands, "But, I love you. And I want to try this again." TJ almost started bawling. "Cyrus I— you don't know how happy that makes me to hear that, but how? I hurt you so bad, I told you I didn't love you! Which was the biggest lie. I said things I cant and never will be able to take back, and I hate myself for it. I hate myself so much for how I hurt you. Cy, I love you so so so much and I hurt you..." TJ rambled on and on.
"I don't care about any of that!" Cyrus exclaimed, cupping TJ's face in his hands. "I love you, and sometimes love is gonna hurt and is gonna be hard, I'll forgive you eventually, it'll take time, but I want— no, need you in my life again. I need you back, Teej."
TJ couldn't believe it. So much was happening at once, and he couldn't help but start sobbing. Cyrus pulled him into his shoulder, allowing him to cry in his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry... I," TJ paused. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me." Cyrus whispered. "There's no need." He patted TJ's back, and he soon pulled away and wiped his eyes.
They rested their foreheads on each other's, their breathes mixing to create one between them. Cyrus was the one to close the gap, standing on his tip toes and leaning forward, connecting their lips. The kiss said so many things. It said I'm sorry, it said I love you, it said don't leave me and it said I've missed you so much.
The words stuck unspoken, they both knew to was true. That didn't keep TJ from saying "I love you so much" against the brunette boy's lips. Cyrus pulled away, "I love you too." He said in a soft and sweet voice. A happy voice. A loving voice. Cyrus grabbed TJ's hands.
"You're freezing! Let's get you to inside, ASAP!" TJ chuckled but didn't argue. He and Cyrus stayed inseparable from then on, they were madly in love and they knew it too.
Nothing, nothing would keep them and their love apart ever again.
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Bleed
Hey, guys...This is the first fic that I’ve written I’m so sorry if it sucks...hehehe. btw my request is open if you have any fic request for marvel... request 
I write fluff,smut, basically everything....
Word count: 1,807
“I don’t know Tony, I just don’t get it... what’s his problem really? Does he really hate me that bad? What did I even do?” I said while sitting on one of Tony’s table in his lab. He’s working on some updates for his suit on his holographic table, putting in some formulas and muttering words that I don’t understand.
“Lighten up sweet cheeks, Capcicle’s probably just having a life crisis right now. He’s like 100ish you know? Or maybe he’s just not getting enough of “it”. He said while making quotation mark gestures with his hand. “My best guess is that 100-year old virgin is just sexually frustrated.”
“He is definitely not a virgin, I mean... look at him. Yes, he can be annoying sometimes like...” I stood up, put my hand on my hips trying to imitate him. “Y/n do this. Y/n DON’T BE RECKLESS. Y/n YOU ARE NOT GOING. Y/n blah blah blah blah blah... it’s annoying but it’s kinda turning me on for some reason when he goes all cap like that.” I looked over at Tony and he’s rolling his eyes. Typical.
“And those bulging muscles and like those uniform, UH the stealth suit. I mean damn...” I sighed closing my eyes picturing Steve in that stealth uniform.
“Don’t drool on my lab. I’m warning you,” he said. Tony is surprisingly quiet during this whole conversation and it is very uncharacteristic for him to do.
“Shush Tony, and that ass though... That is America’s ass right there.”
“Y/n I’m kind of worried that you are having an episode of some kind. You walked in here ranting about how much you hate him and a couple seconds later you are drooling and daydreaming about his ass. Do you hate him or bang him? it’s really confusing. Don’t get me wrong, hate sex is awesome and all that bu- or maybe you are the one who’s actually sexually frustrated. When was the last time you get some?” and with that comment, I found a small piece of random metal and threw it at his head which he deflected. “TONY NO! My sexual life doesn’t have any effect what so ever in this conversation.”
“Hey! Don’t destroy anything in my lab!” he said rolling his eyes while picking up the metal that I threw. “Maybe you should just talk to him? Tell him about how you feel, cause that old grandpa still doesn’t know how to read a woman.”
“NO! Are you insane? Every time I walked up to him to talk about something that isn’t regarding work, he just walked away. And you know what frustrated me, even more, is that when we are in the same room he glances at me like he wanna say something, but when I caught him he just looked away.”
Tony was silent for a moment and said: “ You can do it right now?”
“Right now?” I asked.
Tony looked up and meet my eyes. “Yeah... He is standing right there, and he looks like he’s kinda stuck...Steve wait for a moment I’m gonna buzz you in.” I turned around, petrified. He was standing between the lab doors and the door to the hallway. A small space that Tony created to contain anything inside the lab in case something happens. He stood there holding a file that I guess was about the mission tomorrow with an unreadable expression on his face. As soon as Tony opens the door he just walked toward the hallway without even saying a word. 
I looked over at Tony while getting off the table “ Thanks a lot, Tones” and ran after him. While I was running a thought made me stopped dead in my track. If I found him and had a chance to talk about what just happened, what am I even gonna say? Am I ready for that super awkward and embarrassing conversation? will I be able to accept the fact that I just ruined the relationship between me and Steve? I decided to just ignore this and retreat straight back to my room and get some rest before the mission tomorrow.
*the next day*
I woke up around 7 am which gives me 3 hours before the team and I leave for the mission. We are going to a small town in Russia where a HYDRA lab has been detected. From what we heard and know the lab has got its hand on some Chitauri technology.
I walked to the kitchen to get some breakfast and saw Steve, Bucky, and Thor already munching on their breakfast. Thor was the first one to notice me walking inside the kitchen. “Good Morning Lady Y/n.” Steve’s head spun around at the sound of my name. “Morning guys.” I tried to be cool and act like nothing happen. I make myself a cup of coffee and put a toast in the toaster. “So... you guys all set for the mission?” I asked while taking a sip of my coffee. “Yeah, I guess,” Bucky replied. Steve acted like I wasn’t even there. I moved over to sit next to Thor. “Y/n that stool is broken, don’t sit on it,” Bucky warned me. I groaned. I’m not sitting next to Steve like no. ABSOLUTELY NO. And I’m also too lazy to walk over to the other side, “Thor scoot over your chair a little.” Thor looked at me and did as I ask him to do. I placed my breakfast on the table and sat on his lap. Thor and I are pretty close like he’s actually my best friend so this type of stuff is normal between us. 
Steve for the first time spoke up. “Are you gu- Are you two-fondueing?” he asked with his eyes still glued to his plate. 
“Ohh, pal...” Bucky chuckled.  
I decided to ignore his question and keep eating my breakfast, while Thor was to busy playing and doing weird shit to my hair. “You know lady Y/n some of the women in Asgard braid their hair this way,” he said while doing braids on my hair. “Do you think my hair would look good with it?” I asked him, clearly trying to get a reaction out of Steve. “You will look good in anything, even bald.” Steve suddenly stood up and left. “What’s up with grumpy grandpa?”
“You know what doll,” Bucky said.
While I was getting ready for the mission I ran into Steve. “Steve lo-” he cuts me off. “ I can’t talk right now Y/n we’re leaving in 30 minutes.” he continues doing stuff and trying to find little random things. “STEVE!” I stood in front of him blocking his way. “About the thing the other day. I just wanna say that I don’t hate you or anything an-”
“You know what, Tony was right. You are confusing. Yesterday you say all those things about me and this morning you did that with Thor. I don’t get you.” Steve said. 
“Well, I’m not the one who acts like the other person is not in the room. You’ve been avoiding me always and all this time you acted like you hate me. And NOW YOU ARE MAD BECAUSE WHAT I DID? JUST SO YOU KNOW ME AND THOR ARE BEST FRIEND AND NOTHING IS GOING ON BETWEEN US.” I said and stormed out of the room.
The ride in the quinjet was awkward, to say the least. Steve sat on the farthest opposite side of where I was sitting. Natasha was talking to Bruce about the Lullaby and Thor well... Thor was asleep. Bucky was talking to Clint about a show that they both just discovered. Tony was doing something on his tablet. “Y/n you better not lose it again this time,” Tony said referring to the last mission where I lost control of my powers and cause a massive power outage because my power accidentally crushed one of the city power plants. “I know Tones,” I replied shortly. 
When the plane landed, Steve tried to talk to me. “Y/n I-”
“Can’t talk now Steve, I’m busy.”
The fight was intense. Little did we know someone tipped them off that we are coming. After what felt like 30 minutes of consistent fights I heard Tony’s voice through the com. ”I’m in!” followed by cap’s voice. “Tony and Nat focus on taking and destroying whatever tech they have. The rest of us fight out here, keep them out of the facility.” I was fighting side by side Thor when I saw a huge tank coming towards him. I used my powers to crushed the tank and it exploded.
After Tony and Nat blew the lab we can finally breathe. I was finally able to relax for a bit. 
But no one saw what happened a couple seconds later coming, a sound of a gunshot rang behind me and I felt pain on my stomach, it was a blur after that. I heard Thor screaming and electrocuting something behind me, and I fell to the snow. In seconds Thor was crouching next to me.
“We need to go Lady Y/N is hit.” He carried me and spin Mjolnir sending us flying towards the quinjet. Everyone was already there. Everything was blurry and I can only hear muffled panic voices. “Stay awake for me doll, please.” I can feel someone holding my hand and after that, I fell into the void of darkness.
Steve was sitting outside of the operating room, his suit still stained with blood. “Buck, I can’t lose her. I’m an idiot.” Bucky stood next to him silently. “I was so scared Buck, I feel like I’m the reason for all this. The reasons she’s bleeding to death in my arms while I carry her. Maybe she was distracted because of our problems. I can’t accept it if the last thing I did with her was fight Buck, I can’t.” Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder. “She’s strong, she’ll pull through Steve. Words of advice though, when she wakes up tell her straight away.”
*5 days later*
The first thing I saw when I woke up was a blinding white light, “damn am I dead?” I thought to myself. And then I heard a familiar voice, “Hey, doll. How are you feeling?” I turned to my left and saw Steve staring at me. “Hey...” I replied. “How long was I out for?” I asked him. I remember vaguely of what happened. I remember being shot and Thor carrying me to the quinjet. “5 days, you got shot in the abdomen sweetheart,” he said. “I was so worried. I thought I lost you.” 
“it takes more than a shot to the abdomen to get rid of me cap.” I smiled at him.
“Listen Y/n I’m so Sorry I couldn’t say this earlier. I care about you. I’m sorry that I’ve been hard on you... I did that to avoid any of this from happening. I’m sorry I ran out of the lab. I was just in shock. I’m sorry.” he’s holding my hand and his eyes are watery. 
He moved closer to me, leaned in closing the gap between us. I brace myself for the kiss that I’ve been waiting for soo long. His lips were grazing over mine and I closed my eyes when “Code Blue. She’s flatlining. Rogers that’s not how you give CPR.” I heard Tony’s voice and groan. Steve retreat back to his original position which is on the chair. The whole team walked in and asked me how I was while Bruce is checking my vitals.
“Well Y/n you need a little more rest, I can discharge you from the med wing and you can go back to your room. But no mission for a month alright? No hard physical ability, well you can be the guy in the chair.” He looked at me and smiled. 
“Thank you, Bruce.” The team stayed in the room for probably about ten minutes asking me how I am and telling me stories of what had happened the last 5 days I was out until Steve subtly asking them to leave us alone.
“Guys, I think Y/n needs some rest.” He said.
“Right, guys we should go. What he meant was Y/n and he needs some time alone to finish the kiss they were about to have and maybe some...” Tony made a thrusting motion.
“Tony I just got shot.” I chuckled. When the rest of the team finally cleared the room Steve immediately hovered on top of me and gave me a kiss I’ve been dying to have. His lips were a little chapped but still soft, our lips moved together in sync until we heard cheering from outside the room. “Cap you are needed in the meeting room.” I heard Tony called out. “Give me a minute.” We laughed and continued kissing each other until we heard Tony. Again. “CAP!”
“Alright...Alright...” Steve sighed. “I’m gonna be back.” he gave me one last peck. And walked towards the door. 
“That is America’s ass...” I sighed earning a chuckle from Steve.
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hollandsdisney · 6 years
Text
Pumpkin Patch part 2
Requested: Yes(ish)
Pairing: Tom Holland x Best Friend!Reader 
Part 1
a/n: so i wasnt going to do a part 2, but i realized my first one shot kinda left it on a cliff hanger soo..here we are!
Getting back to Tom’s flat, you gently nudge Harrison awake.
“Wake up sleeping beauty, we’re back,” you whisper.
His eyelashes flutter awake and he stretches his arms.
“That was a bloody good nap,” he yawns.
“I’m glad you had a good rest,” you reply wittily.
The three of you walk into Tom’s apartment, each of you carrying your medium sized pumpkins.
You set them down on the kitchen table and rub your hands on your jeans.
“Oh! My big and small pumpkins!” you gasp, going back to the car to get them.
“She’s not going to be able to carry that big one back in here,” Tom recalls, smiling towards the front door.
Harrison notices his stare and smirks.
“So why don’t you go help her out?” he offers.
Tom looks at him bewildered and quickly shakes his head.
“Tom, you’ve got to start making moves, you wanker,” Haz chuckles.
“M-make moves? For what?” Tom fidgets, crossing his arms.
“Don’t make me say it. Anyway, you’re losing daylight!” Has points towards the door, causing Tom to raise his arms in defeat and make his way to you.
When he got to the front door, he took in the sight of you trying to carry both pumpkins. You were leaning on your left leg for balance, carrying the bigger pumpkin and slowly reached for the small pumpkin.
He shuts his eyes and chuckles, shaking his head at your attempt to carry both.
“You know, you could have asked for help, love,” he says, jogging down his front steps.
You turn to see Tom and let out a sigh.
“Oh thank god, I’m starting to lose feeling on my left side. Here,” you place the bigger pumpkin into Tom’s arms.
Your fingers lightly graze his arms, and you quickly look away. Even though he was wearing a sweater, you don’t want to be distracted by his toned muscles and unbelievable strength.
You grab the small pumpkin and lead him back into the house.
“So, pumpkin carvings; want to do them tonight?” Harrison suggests.
“Absolutely!” you shout.
“Perfect, I’ll get the knives and cutters out. Tom…you can just hang around,” Harrison jokes.
“Are you implying I can’t handle myself with a knife?” Tom scoffs.
“Tom, you can barely handle a scissor,” you laugh.
“Anyway, let me go change into something less cute so I don’t get pumpkin guts all over me,” you say, running upstairs.
Harrison grabs the utensils needed and brings them to the living room table.
It’s better to cut the pumpkins there considering you’ll all have more room to maneuver.
Tom grabs towels and lays them on the floor and on the wooden table.
“So, what's your plan, hm?” Harrison asks after a few minutes of silence.
“Plan..?” Tom furrows his eyebrows.
“You know, how are you going to tell Y/N you fancy her?” his teeth graze his bottom lip.
“Oh, fuck off, Haz,” Tom swats the air and straightens out the towel on the table.
“Did you really not think I’d notice?” Harrison asks, offended.
“Well, no, I-I guess not. But I thought you liked her?” he questions.
“I did, but I don’t like her nearly as much as you do. You practically drool over her when she does the slightest thing as look your way!” Harrison adds.
Tom shakes his head, grinding his jaw.
“Don’t pretend like I’m not right,” Haz raises a brow.
But he was right, and Tom knew it. Tom loved absolutely everything you did, and found the smallest things adorable and admirable. You had him insanely whipped.
“And I think she might like you, too,” Harrison spoke up again, plopping on the couch.
“Right, and my name is Bob,” Tom rolls his eyes, sitting on the floor.
“It’s quite amazing how smart and talented you are, yet your common sense is lacking,” Haz laughed.
Tom frowned, shooting him a glare.
“Oh, take the piss once and a while mate. Even though it’s true,” he smirked.
Meanwhile, you were upstairs getting changed into something more comfy. You grabbed a black sweatshirt that might’ve belonged to Tom and snaked it over your head.
The scent lingered in your nose, and you knew right away that it was, in fact, Tom’s.
You smile at the thought, but quickly shake your head.
You can’t like Tom. He’s your absolute best friend, along with Haz. You all have a great thing going, you don’t want to ruin it with false feelings. Besides, he didn’t like you back anyway, right? Right?
There was that one time his hug lasted a little longer than it had; and that day you all went to breakfast and he insisted on sitting across from you. You could have sworn his eyes were burning a hole through you, yet you didn’t mind.
But all those feelings were pushed back when you were set into reality.
It simply wouldn’t be possible to date Tom, with him in the spotlights and expanding his career.
And you’d never hinder his growth with your selfish wants.
You slide on leggings and throw your knotty hair up in a bun. It was about time your hair got out of your face.
You jog down the stairs and see the boys in the living room.
“You ready to carve some pumpkins?!” you exclaim.
The boys yell “Yeah!” making you gush and smile wider than you had been.
You sit on the floor next to Tom, and he scoots over to give you more room.
“Shall we make this more interesting? Maybe hold a contest?” Harrison asks.
“I like it! But wait, there’s three of us here, who’s gonna judge?” you ask.
Harrison pulls out his phone and points it towards the table of pumpkins.
“Okay, so Tom, Y/N and I are about to carve pumpkins. It’s up to you, the viewers, to vote on who’s pumpkin turns out best!” He points towards each pumpkin and when he’s finished recording on what you assume was his instagram video, he begins to frantically tap on his screen. Tom pulls out his phone as well, situating himself in front of the pumpkins and turning his phone facing him.
“So, as you saw in Harrison’s story, or if you’re just viewing my story, Haz, Y/N and I are carving pumpkins. When we’re done I’m going to show them all and you get to pick your favorite!”
Just then, you feel your phone vibrate, signaling a tag from Harrison on his story, and Tom’s follows shortly after.
“I better win...wait, what does the winner get?” you ask.
“Bragging rights..” Harrison says, beginning to carve the top of the pumpkin and remove the seeds.
“No! It should be something legit,” you shake your head and start to ponder.
“Bragging rights AND this pumpkin seed,” Harrison holds up the insides of the pumpkin, causing you to frown.
“Agh, I hate this part of carving!” you yank the top of you pumpkin off and begin to carve inside to remove the slimy seeds.
“How mad would you be if I just put all of this in your hair?” Tom asked cheekily.
“Very mad, Thomas, don’t you dare!” you screech, sliding away from him.
Tom laughs and throws the remnants of the pumpkin into the garbage.
You all decided on carving a traditional face into the pumpkins, but the true test was who’s would look more professionally done.
There was a silence in the room, concentration at an all time high.
“There’s a reason why I’m an actor,” you hear Tom whisper sing-song-like, and you giggle.
He looks over at you and smiles, proud of himself for making you laugh.
He sneaks a glance at your pumpkin, and notices you are doing exceptionally well.
“Well damn, Y/N, when were you going to tell us you had a keen eye for art?” Tom asks.
“A true artist never reveals her secrets,” you wink at him.
Tom could feel a blush creeping up his neck, and quickly looks away from your stare.
Harrison watches your interaction unfold in front of him, baffled at the fact neither of you knew each other’s intentions.
It was about an hour later, and Haz and Tom decided to post pictures of all 3 of the pumpkins on their story, along with a poll.
In the end, your pumpkin came in first, Harrison’s came in second, and Tom’s came in third.
“Rubbish! You guys are supposed to be on my side!” Tom cried on his instagram story.
“Don’t be mad! Your fans recognize true talent!” you taunt, shooting the camera an award winning smile. Tom made a mental note to save that story to his camera roll later.
You and Harrison start cleaning up the mess while Tom adds his finishing touches to his instagram story.
“Your fans are going to go nuts over all the new content,” you note.
“Good, now you won’t be canceled, Tom!” Haz sneers.
“I don’t even know what that means,” Tom folded his arms, “so your words mean nothing.”
“Why don’t you two put the pumpkins on display out in the front? I’ll wash up everything,” Harrison insists.
“You sure, Haz?” you pout.
“Yeah, yeah. Go on,” he shoos you two away.
You look at Tom and shrug, grabbing your pumpkin.
Harrison nods your way to Tom, as if to say “now’s your chance.”
Tom follows you outside with his pumpkin.
The night sky is illuminated by the stars and waning moon, the cool breeze sending shivers down your spine.
“Is this my sweatshirt?” Tom asks, lightly pulling at the hoodie.
“Oh, yeah. You don’t mind, do you?” you ask hesitantly.
“No, course not. What’s mine is yours, darling,” Tom assures you.
You give a cheeky grin and sit on the steps. You pat the spot next to you and Tom complies.
You sigh, looking up at the stars.
Tom takes this time to take in your profile, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips.
“You’re awfully quiet, Tommy,” you whisper, eyes still glued to the stars.
Tom clears his throat.
“Just taking in the view is all,” he admits.
You bring your attention to the brown eyed boy and smile.
“Y/N...there’s something you have to know,” Tom trails off.
“Oh my gosh, you’re pregnant?” you gasp teasingly.
“No, seriously,” Tom averts his eyes and turns his body to you.
“What’s up, Tom?” you ask, growing concerned.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for..quite a while, actually,” he laughs breathily, “and I feel like if I don’t tell you now, it’s just going to consume me. Your presence consumes me, Y/N.”
You blink at him, slowly letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Did Tom just confess his feelings to me? You thought. The corners of your mouth quirk up.
“Well, that makes me feel better about feeling the same way, then,” you confess.
His face perks up at your words and you can see his boyish smile shine through the moon’s light.
“I was hoping you would say that,” he said.
You smile up at him and lean your head on his shoulder.
Harrison watches from the living room window and sighs out, “Fucking finally,” chuckling to himself.
Tom owed Harrison big time for this one.
tags: @hazsterfield @greenarrowhead @toms-darling 
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super--dale-blog · 7 years
Text
Frenemies  (part 3)
Description:  Archie begs the reader to join his and Jugheads road trip, and then ditches last minute.
Word Count: 1807
Pairings: Jughead x Reader
Part 1 Part 2
request here! 
It was already past noon the following day, and both you and Jughead had said a total of ten words to each other so far. Ever since waking up wrapped around the other, you were both embarrassed and super confused about your feelings. I mean, surely it was only because it was cold last night, and you two had to share a blanket…right? Thinking about it too much caused you to blush.
Jughead cleared his throat, preparing to speak. “I’m hungry.” He said, “Do you want to stop somewhere?”
You nodded, feeling the hunger growing. You had been on the road since nine o’clock this morning, and you had only had a cup of coffee so far.
You both decided on just going through the drive through at a fast food restaurant, not having the energy yet to get out of the truck.
Once you ordered and got your food, Jughead pulled into a little parking spot away from everything.
“I hate when people watch me eat.” He explains, taking a bite of his greasy burger. You snorted.
“I’m watching you eat right now.” You point out. He swallows, rolling his eyes in the process as well.
“Yeah but we’ve known each other for how long?” he asks “It’s different.”
You shrug, attending to your food instead. It took you a short amount of time to finish your food, before you were on the road again.
You propped your feet up on the dash, looking out the window at different billboards. One caught your eye, and as soon as you saw it you snapped your head over to look at Jughead.
“No.” he says plainly, and you start pouting.
“Oh, Jughead please?” you ask, leaning across the arm rest and getting as close to his face as possible. Your lip was jutted out and your hands were clasped together. “It’s just the next exit, come on. We’ve been driving for two days and haven’t done one fun thing yet.”
He sighs, and says nothing. You figure it’s not worth getting into an argument over. The two of you had been so good at keeping up with the ‘friendship’ façade, you didn’t want to ruin it. You turn, looking back out the window.
You didn’t see him watching you out of the corner of his eye, noticing how disappointed you looked. He felt a pang of guilt because of it, and before he even knew what he was doing, he swung into the exiting lane. Your eyes got wide and excited.
“I can’t believe you made me go to a damn carnival.”
“No!” you exclaim, watching as your last ball missed the milk bottle by a hair. All you wanted to win was the little stuffed Pikachu, but you could never knock the final bottle over.
Jughead laughed, watching as you finally gave up and walked away. “You know,” He starts “You could’ve bought the Pikachu outright with the amount of money you spent playing that game.”
You cross your arms, trying to look annoyed. In all reality though, you were having the time of your life.
“Whatever,” you grumble, sticking your tongue out. He laughs. You then spot the fried Oreo stand, a crowd around it. “Oh my god those are my favorite!” you exclaim, and grab his hand, dragging him over. You try and ignore the sparks that you’re feeling from the contact.
“Hey, I gotta go to the bathroom, get me an order too.” He says, and stalks off. You wait in line, finally making it to the front and ordering two orders. Once you have them in your hands, you find the nearest bench and sit down, keeping an eye out for the raven haired boy.
After a few minutes (and contemplation on whether or not you should eat Jugheads fried Oreos as well), he comes back. He looked flustered.
“What took you so long?” your last Oreo shoved in your mouth, making you mumble your words. He chuckles.
“The line for the bathroom was insanely long.” He says softly, grabbing his treat from you and starting to eat. You don’t question him anymore, and you both sit on the bench in silence, watching the sun set over you. The lights are starting to flick on, making you smile.
“This is my favorite part about carnivals. The lights at the end of the night. It makes everything feel so much more festive and fun.” You say. He nods, not saying anything. He’s watching you, though, as your face becomes illuminated by the colorful lights.
He lifts his arm over your head, resting it on the back of the bench that’s behind you. His arm isn’t touching you, though. You look over at him and smile.
“Wanna go for a walk?” he asks, and you nod, both of you standing up and starting to trek around the giant park. You both are walking so closely in the throng of people, that you almost don’t realize him linking his pinky with yours.
He stops you once you emerge from the crowd, reaching in his pocket. You look confused, before he pulls out a little Pikachu keychain.
“I figured, you couldn’t have the stuffed animal this is the next best thing.” He says shyly. Your face breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve ever experienced, and you hug him quickly.
“Aw thank you, Jughead! It’s absolutely perfect. When did you get this?” you ask, the smile still not leaving your face. Your heart is so happy, soaring almost.
“Well, when I said I went to the bathroom, let’s just say I didn’t go to the bathroom.” He explains, and you laugh, grabbing his pinky with yours and continuing your walk.
“After my mom left with Jellybean, I kinda just distanced myself from everyone. My dad never was sober anymore, so I left too.”
You don’t know how the conversation shifted to Jugheads home life, but here it is, out in the open for both of you. The crowds have died down immensely, yet your pinkies were still interlocked, almost like you were afraid to let go.
“Where did you go?” you ask quietly, and you can feel him stiffen beside you. “You don’t have to tell me.” You said after, reassuring him.
He took a deep breath, relaxing. “It’s fine,” he says, and then after a second, finishes his thought. “I’ve been living at the drive-in. In the booth where all the movies are played.” He says quietly, getting nervous. You nod.
“Jug…the drive-in’s closing a week after we get back. Where are you going to stay then?”
“I’m not sure, (Y/N). I’ll figure it out.” He says, and you guys are quiet for a few minutes. It’s you that speaks first this time.
“Who else knows?” you ask, and he shakes his head.
“No one.”
“Why’d you tell me then?”
“I- I don’t know. I feel like I can trust you. Like you won’t go telling people about this whenever we get back.” He murmurs, and you nod.
“You’re right, I won’t,” you reassure him “On one condition. You let me help you in any way I can.”
“(Y/N), I don’t need your charity.” His tone grows cold, and you sigh.
“I’m not giving you my ‘charity’, Juggie. I’m just trying to help. I know how sucky family life is and I just want to try and make it less sucky.” He pulls his pinky away from yours, and you frown at the loss of contact.
“You have no idea what my home life is like, (Y/N). Don’t pretend that you do,” he snaps and turns around. “I’m going back to the truck.”
Before you can say another thing, he’s walking in the opposite direction. You can’t help but just stand there, feeling absolutely defeated, and try to figure out what you did wrong this time.
It’s been silent in the vehicle, tension radiating off of both of you. You don’t dare utter one word, it’s almost like you can see smoke coming out of Jugheads ears.
The next stop you would both take would be the next hotel. Once he made the turn into the parking lot, you had finally mustered up the courage to try and apologize.
“Jughead…” you start off, but he hops out of the truck, slamming the door before you have a chance to finish what you were saying. You sigh, before getting out of the truck as well. This won’t be easy.
You both walk in, and are greeted by the reception lady. You hear Jughead requesting two single rooms, and you frown at this. Of course, you wouldn’t be caught dead in a predicament like the night prior, but the harshness of his tone still cut.
“I’m sorry. We are all out of single rooms. I can get you both a double room. Two beds.” She says, and he sighs. You watch as his head nods, the beanie not budging.
Once you get the keycards, you quietly make your way to your room. It wasn’t as nice as the one before, but that’s okay. You each choose respective beds, placing your stuff next to them.
You grab your pajamas, going to change. Again, by the time you come out of the bathroom, Jughead has already changed and laid down. You bite your lip as you walk past his bed to your own, crawling in and getting under the covers. The lamp is shut off, and you both lay there in silence.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble “I didn’t realize that what I said would affect you that much. It was inconsiderate.”
You don’t hear anything for a few minutes, and you assume he’s already fallen asleep. You sigh, turning over on your side. After a few seconds, you feel a finger jab into your back.
“Scoot over,” the accompanying voice mumbles, and you smile to yourself, scooting over so you both could have some room on the bed. You flip over so you’re on your back, staring up at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry I freaked out on you like I did. Just a touchy subject,” He says, and you nod in understanding. “Truce?”
“Truce.” You say. The both of you are quiet then, beginning to fall asleep.
Just as your eyes are closing and you’re drifting off into sleep, you feel his pinky grab yours. And then his whole hand. Your heartbeat quickens and your face darkens. You’re thankful for the lack of light in the room.
You both fall asleep like that, hand in hand. When you wake up, though, you both are two tangled bodies. Legs intertwined, your head on his bare chest, his arm around you. And once you both wake up, you lay like that for longer, his fingers dancing lazily over your arm.
The best part about this was that every action was fully intentional.
A/N: I wasn’t a fan of this part very much, and it felt like it took forever to think of how to begin it. Blahhh I dunno. Writers block I guess. Well I hope you guys liked it! 
Tag List: @superhero-lover101 @murderyoursoul @serpentqveen @lotte142 @gemmielii @zombiewerewolfqueen
155 notes · View notes
a-m00d · 4 years
Text
hi... i think i should start writing.
i wanted to create a separate journal of sorts to write down my feels about the breakup. but as i’m writing this, i feel ashamed and embarrassed to give so much importance to this failure of a situation. as if he would somehow find these words and think so highly of himself. as if i look back later and say, ‘wow, i needed a whole tumblr blog just to get over him?’. i want to make the disclaimer to myself first and foremost: this journal is perhaps not due to his importance in my life but because of my own life’s importance so to speak. He was important in my life, but i don’t need a journal to get over him more than i needed with any other guy. I need one (or want one) because I want to start to sort out all my conflicting thoughts, therapy is expensive (though maybe i will seek out a therapist soon), i want an organized and private space for this, and i always do better with typing rather than writing (for longer periods of writing) because I can easily find the writing later. I felt the same when thinking about buying a new notebook just to write these thoughts down — I felt that it would be giving him too much credit for my emotions. Now, like I said, I’m feeling this way with starting a whole new tumblr blog just for this. But. I know that I don’t want him to take credit for any of my feelings, I do want to bask in them myself and revel and wail over what is going on inside of my head and heart right now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
my emotions have been insane over the past few days. obvious statement of the year. i also teeter between numbness/forgetfulness and utter sadness (mostly due to having to act normal for work and other obligations), but i feel somehow there is a healthy balance of that going on right now, and i’m very lucky i don’t have to be in the office right now. i’ll take that over the emptiness of being isolated and alone. my thoughts have been changing like the fucking tides. and the place i’m in right now is deciding if/when to let go of this relationship100%. 
everything seemed slow last week, but then happened so fast at once. the breakup was triggered by our fight 1.5 weeks ago, on the weekend. our third time not being able to even walk with each other and cheer each other up in this disaster of a time. As I walked away from him (or as he lagged behind) i had the gut feeling it was time to end things for good. I’ve said and done this 100000x. This time was slightly different. I felt like i was finally able to surrender. Not 100% of course, but it was different than ever before. It was just a little bit more. Shortly after, he texted me, with a tone that i knew was half trying to make up and half trying to evoke me and blame me. I told myself that i shouldn’t go back to talk to him at that moment, but I did (just like every time). We met up and he made things worse. We both did. Feeding off each other like always. He kept on provoking (like always), and it got to the point I felt it was finally enough to end things. I could never handle when he went on and on about ‘why the hell are we together?’, ‘what are you (me) doing?’ ‘we hate each other’, etc. etc. He was the most ungrateful bastard, living in my house for free and treating me like this. I knew things wouldn’t change anytime soon with him, and I stood strong with my feeling on that walk, that there was no other solution I could think of. there was nothing more i could hold onto. sometimes things don’t work out, and you don’t have the answer. I couldn’t look for the answer anymore. I’m battling my own health issues, major stress, career decisions, and, of course, the quarantine. I let him go. He freaked out, obviously. He didn’t believe me for the next few days even. First he was a dick, then that was followed by him being anxious and frantically figuring out what he was going to do (mind you, with no money for NYC rent, no job, and nowhere to stay temporarily in the middle of quarantine), then endless crying and begging to me. I was able to stick strong with that feeling i had felt on the walk. I was sad, shocked, disappointed and relieved all myself, but I knew I didn’t have any other solution.
The rest of the weekend was filled with loneliness, sadness, drinking and eating in bed, sad yoga, ignoring each other, him making me feel bad (and actually feeling bad) for “kicking him out”. We had some more talks earlier in the week, when he finally asked if i wanted this for good. They were calm talks and I was able to stick with my decision. Later on in the week we started hanging out a little bit more, still distant, but enjoying each other’s company in the night time and not ignoring each other. I knew it became too much when even on friday night we got in a stupid yelling fight about... (and i’m sorry but i really need to write these details down)... him wanting me to play guitar hero right as i had called up my friends to chat, and came off the phone 20 minutes later (cut them off so i could play with him) and he refuses to play, saying he was tired and his feelings were hurt. saying he wanted to play 20/30 minutes ago but not anymore. I was absolutely furious. He might have even had the chance to sleep on my bed that night but i sent him straight to the floor and even threatened to kick him out right then and there. I had planned for us to have a good weekend together, and I was completely crushed when this fight happened. Maybe I was relieved to know i made the right decision, but just so sad to know our relationship had gotten this awful.
The next morning, he embraced me sweetly and I accepted. I know 100% that I would not have accepted this embrace otherwise, but it was our last weekend together, possibly forever, and I couldn’t let myself not at least try to enjoy our time together and bask in how good the good times made me feel. Even though I had some moments of internal disappointment about him and us, it was a relatively magical weekend (for a weekend spent in quarantine). We walked and talked forever, bringing his stuff into storage, picking up food (first time during quarantine for me, so, a treat), walking and driving to our old favorite places all day and night, making margaritas, and two nights of great physical intimacy (maybe not our best/longest ever, but eons better than we had experienced in over 6 months). I was very afraid of this physical intimacy, I was afraid of the cuddling and all the things he kinda pried me to do all week...but I couldn’t have been happier that I gave in, however hard it may make this time period for me right now, and regardless of if he was just manipulating me or not. Because on that night I realized I do really love him, and we love each other. Despite all the shit in our relationship, and whether or not we should be with each other, we share a real love for each other, and I feel that my heart has opened even just a little bit more. I don’t know what he is feeling, but I know that when he left on Monday I felt a giant, gaping hole in the center of my chest. I truly felt like I lost my best friend. Many times over the past few days when we were together (I don’t remember the conversation now) we talked about the possibility of being together again or hanging out as friends, and I kindof just knew that things would never be the same, and didn’t know how this would ever work out. But I knew that I would never want myself to forget this moment and feeling of love. As much as his love has killed me and ruined me it’s made me grow in ways I never knew I wanted to. I realized how every break up I’ve been through I’ve hid the emotions from others and myself, even from the partner. This time, I’m realizing I’m able to finally feel these things, and I know for the first time what it feels like (not to lose someone you love, but to be this open about it with yourself or others).
A few minutes before we walked out on monday we were crying looking at each other and I thought to myself ‘I really, truly love him’. It took me a few beats to kick the words out of my mouth (fear of rejection, judgement of my own feelings), but I knew I would be crushed if I hadn’t. Not even for him but for me. I decided I didn’t care in that moment if he felt the same way as me, I knew I needed to tell him that, there was no other time. The entire weekend I felt extremely vulnerable crying with him loving him and laughing with him after I had broken up with him...but this is an experience I’ve never had. There’s usually a lot of bad blood and repressed anger, maybe some brief break up sex followed by fighting at the end of a relationship....but (unfortunately) this was already the norm in our relationship....so the ending was truly just a letting go of it all and being happy with each other. Even for only 2.5 days, we really wanted to spend every waking second with each other. And the part that makes me most sad is knowing the familiarity of his face, scent, voice, etc. so well, and now having it vanish in thin air, forever. 
I still don’t think I’ve processed everything 100%. I went to bed moderately fine last night, then woke up today bawling crying because I am usually woken up by him and this morning I wasn’t and it felt so odd and different, and I thought...this is going to be my life for a very long time now. 
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Between Stripes|Arkham Fic
Hey guys, I'm currently writing this story on Wattpad but I thought why not try it on here too? Anyways, this is a fanfic linked to the TV show Gotham where a girl (who's in Arkham) meets Jerome and things go a little crazy from there onwards. Forewarning for a couple things: • my characters are probably a tad weak • I'm not exactly a great writer • things will probably go wrong so tell me if they do! • enjoy ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ Georgia, did you kill them?" The detective's voice was a knife which sliced through the cake of silence. Laughter erupted from the girl's mouth. "Oh yes!" She exclaimed, "I began with killing my mommy. It was fun to kill her. I sliced off every single limb. Her arms went easy - her legs were a lot trickier. God she bled a lot. She was a silly bitch! Always treating me like a child. Like I was the family disappointment, look at me now! Am I a disappointment mommy?" The girl asked before exposing her manic smile to the detective. He recoiled at the insanity on her face; her smile, indeed, was manic and large like a chesire cat's. Then there was the madness in her eyes. It was bright, which light up the pale blue. "Then, there was daddy. He struggled a lot more than my pathetic excuse of a mother did! Oh the way he writhed under my grip! Daddy never spoke to me. He barely knew I existed, so I went easy on him. Just a little strangling." She did grabbing motions with her hands. "I loved seeing the panic on his face! Ooh! And the way he let out his last breath! It was absolutely brilliant!" "So I'm guessing you killed your siblings too." The detective snarled. His tone of voice made Georgia giggle. "Yes! Five points to detective Gordon!" She squealed happily and clasped her hands together. "Anyways, I'll start with telling you about my brother. He had it easy, like good ol' pops. In fact I used my father's shotgun. It was a good gun. A little old and creaky but it did the job!" She paused dramatically. "Then, BOOM!" She raised her hands and shot James Gordon in the chest with her finger-gun. "BOOM! BOOM!" The detective carried on frowning. Of course he would. Love the law and all that fun stuff. "Now for my lovely older sisters story! I had fun with them! That's the best bit, that they're twins." She clenched her fists on the table, acting as if each fist was a twin. "So, I tied my sisters to a pair of chairs. I began with Charlotte. Since forever I've hated Annabelle so it'd hurt her more if I hurt her bestest friend in the whole world!" She spat out, glaring at her left fist as if it really was her sister. "With my sisters I used knives again. They were snarky, stuck-up bitches like mother! So I took one of the knives and held it against Lottie's throat. Don't ya love her nickname? I was never allowed to call her that. Then I traced pretty little lines into Lottie's throat while dear Annabelle begged for mercy." "I don't want-" "Don't interrupt me!" Georgia shouted before slipping back into her joyful tone as she carried on with the story. "People are so selfish before they die, I'm sure you know that though. Little Annabelle screamed for me to just 'leave her alone' and in fact she 'didn't care about Lottie if it meant she could live'. God I hated her so much! I pitied poor Lottie then, I just slit her throat and let her die then. Annabelle was in for a treat though! Oh she had it far worse than mummy. I cut off her ankles, then her wrists. She bled worse than mother! A lot noisier too! My bet was that the only thing keeping her alive then was adrenaline and that shit, ya know? So I carried on cutting her up. Tiny little pieces! All sorts of knives too!" "Alright, shut up now. Story time is over." The detective slammed his palms down on the table which shut up he girl. He was at wonder how twisted she was for a fifteen year old. What had made her do this? "Whatcha gonna do Jimmy? Lock me up?" Georgia let out a stream of giggles as the detective frowned deeply. He was clearly disgusted. "Even better, lock you up and send you to Arkham." There it was, that magical place. The place everyone spoke of. And Georgia simply couldn't wait to get there to meet her new friends... *** Day 728 was similar to Day 727. My friends were talking to me again, they were talking about killing someone. I couldn't remember who though. Maybe it was that guard who stood outside my cell on Tuesdays or it was on Sundays... If we can get that goddamn guard to come in we could smash his head! The blood would decorate the wall nicely, this room could do with having a bit of colour to it. Or we could lure him in and get the keys. Get the hell out this shit hole! The guard wouldn't mind, he'd sit here nicely. Twiddling his thumbs for fun. Both plans had flaws and my little friends were too stupid to realise. I liked to give them names but sometimes I forgot. At the moment, they were called Up and Down. One of them was more about positive plans whilst the other liked the bloody side of it. Down was the one who'd gotten me stuck here in the first place. But Up lied to me more. It's not my fault! She left you to that plan. Now, she listens to me too. Yeah she listens to you but she listens to me more! It's cause I tell the truth! It's my only flaw. Shut it! They argued a lot too. But it was entertaining enough not to drive me crazy. Ha! I was already crazy. "Lunch time, Fishwick." The guard called from outside the cell. I leapt up and hurried to the tall door, attempting to peep out the barred window. "Step back Fishwick." The guard commanded. Rolling my eyes I stepped back. Now when he steps in, grab his neck and try to pull! Shut it! Today was going to be a good day. Hopefully. "Ready for lunch Fishwick?" The guard put handcuffs on me (he'd learnt to do that on Day 322). "Eh, what's for lunch Joey?" I shrugged as he guided me through the halls. Unfortunately for me, I was in a cell furthest away from the kitchens and cafeteria. It was a shame. "I heard it's some weird soup with a side of bread." He grimaced. Joey knew I hated the food and I knew that he hated the food. That's how we were friends! "Is it vegetarian?" "I doubt it." "Any other options? I'm fancying grilled cheese." I said and Joey let out a laugh. "I doubt you'll get anything as fine as that in here." He sighed. It was true. My only dislike about my lovely new home was that the food was horrid. "It's my birthday soon Joey!" I exclaimed, breaking the silence. It was in two days! How'd I forget? Then again, I forgot a lot of things. "And it's the anniversary of when you first arrived here." He added. I'd came to Arkham on my fifteenth birthday. The day I slaughtered some people. Who were they? They were your family, idiot. Don't be too harsh, poor Georgy has a bad memory. Oh yes! It was my family. Weird. I wonder why I'd want to kill them. "You're getting old kid, seventeen." "Not as old as you Joey, what're ya? Thirty?" "Harsh. I'm twenty six." "Poor you." I snickered as we reached the cafeteria. "Remember what we said?" Joey turned me to face him, undoing my handcuffs. "No fighting, scrapping or slapping." I said in a sing-song voice. "And no food fights." He slowly opened the door. "That was a one time thing!" I laughed at the memory. "You've done it thirteen times kiddo." He retorted and shoved me into the room. Nobody looked up. Nobody ever did, unless you were a new arrival. I trudged to the hole in the wall where the line of people stood waiting for their so-called 'food'. Good ol' Aaron was stood in front of me. He was nice. Didn't talk much but he listened to my drivel. Tapping his shoulder I chirped, "Aaron!" He turned round and as he noticed me a smile crept into his face. It was slow though. Like a sloth! "Hey Georgy." He said in a slow voice. Definitely a sloth. "How's it goin' Aaron?" I asked as we both picked up a tray. "Slow." He grunted and I let out a little laugh. Could he read my mind? Ooh that'd be cool! "My days okay. Up and Down are arguing as usual but they're like some sort of white noise." I babbled. Aaron's response was to blink slowly. Bless the little sweetheart! He was listening. "Oh." He murmured as food landed on his tray with a strange splash sound. "Hi Debby! How's life for you on this fine fine day?" I laughed. The woman looked up, she was unimpressed. Debby worked here as some sort of food server. She didn't like me much, at least that's what Down said. "Bad." Debby grunted as she went to slap some food on my tray. I put out a hand as if to say stop! "You got anything cheesy? Me and my buddy Aaron here have been craving cheese!" I attempted to bargain with her. It was only fair to mention Aaron too, he was a good friend to me. Screw that, he was my only friend - apart from Joey. "No." Debby grunted. "You sure Debbs?" "Move along, Fishwick." Debby grunted. I rolled my eyes. All the woman ever did was grunt for crying out loud. "Only tried-" I began but Debby cut me off. Stupid Debby. "I said, move along." Her voice was harsh now. It caught Aaron's attention and a low growl escaped his mouth. Debby's eyes widened and she sighed, scooping up a bunch of cheese from a cabinet beside her. "Here's your goddamn cheese now get gone." Debby growled. I sent her a bittersweet smile and wandered away with Aaron. We found an empty table in the corner of the room and sat ourselves down. "Nice one there Aaron." I complimented him and popped a cheese cube into my mouth. He was eating them by the handful. Once he'd eaten what was in his mouth, he replied. "S'no problem Georgy." I smiled at Aaron. He was definitely a sweetie, we were kinda similar. He killed his family; I killed my family; he liked cheese; I liked cheese. So similar, right? Wrong honey. He's too stupid to realise. For once I agree with my buddy here, he's got barely two brain cells to rub together. Yeah! Just enough brain cells to kill. They had to ruin everything didn't they? It's our job. I rolled my eyes at the voices and popped another cheese cube into my mouth. One difference between Aaron and I was that he ate like a pig. Maybe he'd never heard of cutlery? Nope he must have, he slaughtered his family with knifes and axes. At least I think so... "C'mon Valeska, just get in the goddamn cafeteria. It won't hurt you." A guard's voice broke through my thoughts and drew attention to the door. "Mathews! Be kind to our patients. Jerome may just be finding it difficult to adjust." One of the nurse's snapped at the guard and smiled at the guy with cheeto-coloured hair. "Whatever, he's scum to me." The guard snarled at the younger guy. He laughed in the guard's face and strutted into the cafeteria. "We'll come back later Jerome, try to make friends." The nurse cooed at him and closed the door. She walked away with the guard at her heels. I took the time to get a good look at cheeto-hair. He was quite tall, taller than me by far, and had a lanky figure that was slightly muscular. For a psycho (like moi) he was good-looking. A firm, sharp jawline. Glowing green eyes. Slightly arched eyebrows. And that alive orange hair which contrasted so perfectly with his pale skin. He couldn't be much older than me. "Hey Aaron, there's fresh meat." I murmured and pointed my plastic spoon in the new guy's direction. Aaron turned round, slowly. He grunted as he saw Jerome (at least I think that was his name). Somehow he low grunt was loud enough for the new guy to hear. His head whipped round to look at Aaron and I. A mischievous smile grew on his face as he took long strides to walk to our table. He slotted himself down next to Aaron and opposite me. "Hello if you didn't happen to overhear, I'm Jerome Valeska." He introduced himself with that mad grin again. I smiled a matching grin. "Aaron Helzinger and Georgia Fishwick. Pleasure to meet you!" I giggled and popped another cheese cube into my mouth. "How do I get some divine food round here?" He asked, looking around for a brief moment. "Get yourself to that line, grab a tray and attempt to sweet-talk good ol' Debby to give you the nice grub." I instructed, "Aaron and I managed to get ourselves some cheese along with the usual stuff." "Brilliant." He grimaced and stood up. Quickly, he strode to the short line and grabbed a tray. "Whatcha think Aaron? Good or bad?" I said quietly to Aaron. Using simple terms with Aaron was easiest. "Eh." He grumbled and ate a whole piece of bread. "I agree. We need to get to know him a little." I murmured. You could totally kill Jerome if you sharpened your spoon. Spoons are too weak. Try that shovel thing Debby has. Geez, Up and Down were so bloodthirsty sometimes. Someone slammed something on the table and took me away from the voices again - thank god. "That woman barely budged!" Jerome snapped. I looked at his tray. Even worse than mine or Aaron's. He had a measly portion of soup with half a slice of bread. Laughter erupted from my mouth. "Gosh, Debby's usually nicer with your first night here!" I sniggered. "She threatened for less." Jerome muttered. "Stick with me and Aaron and we'll help you get far. Debby has a sweet spot for me and Aaron helps budge it." I couldn't help but carry on laughing. "How'd you end up here anyway?" Jerome smiled and leaned forward. He was eager and curious, I could see it in his eyes. "Well, a nearly two years ago little fifteen year old me was fed up with being the family disappointment. So I murdered them all, one by one. Starting with good ol' mommy of course. She got stabbed. Then with daddy I strangled him. With my brother I shot him a couple of times. The most fun was my older twin sisters! I cut them up and made the one I hated most watch as I killed her best friend. She was selfish and begged for her own life!" I laughed, becoming a little shaken as I finished my tale. Aaron looked and me and put his hand on my forearm. "Sorry about that. Thanks Aaron!" I chirped and smiled. He let go, continuing to eat the soup. "What about big fella here?" Jerome glanced at Aaron. "Killed his family too. Had fun with a bunch of knives and axes." I said shortly. Aaron hated to talk about it, he wasn't so violent nowadays. "Relatable. I killed my bitch of a mother." Jerome stated. Aaron frowned a little at his language. "She hate you too?" I asked sympathetically. With my mother and sisters, I hated them the most. "A little. She was a whore. Slept with all her friends in the bed next to me. Didn't ever shut up too. I had to get rid of her." Jerome spoke as if he had poison in his mouth. Sore subject I guess. "Hard life, isn't it?" I mumbled and ate some bread. Jerome smirked as he ate. Well, I'd just made another friend. Which I had previously thought would never happen. Aaron and I were therapy friends that liked similar foods. Jerome was something a little different.
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annittavalence · 5 years
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Fallout OC Interview
Rules:
1. Choose an OC.
2. Answer them as that OC.
3. Tag 5 people to do the same.
If you want to do this! this is your sign!
What is your name?
Annitta Valence shortened to V or Vee.
How old are you?
34
What do you look like?
Human, Caucasian/Italian, slightly mutated. Hair, shaved on the sides, long on the top with a mowhawk, often worn down (not styled). Eyes are crazy, green, orange glow, due to mutation. Scars and markings facial Vitiligo around her left eye, scars on her right temple and under eye, above lip on the left. Neck tattoo that comes up onto her chin. Heavy facial piercings. Medium, sunkissed skin tone.
Where are you from? Where do you live now?
My family was from Italy, a small village Stilo, Calabria but they moved to America before I was born, eventually they ended up in Boston since my Father settled into a job at Corvega and my mother raised me at home. I ended up buying a house with Nate in Sanctuary hills once we married and I was pregnant with Shaun. Now though? I prefer to spend my free time in Goodneighbor, Hancock organised an apartment for me in one of the buildings, it’s quite nice.
What was your childhood like?
It was..like most I suppose? rough at times but we had what we needed and we did alright. I didn’t enjoy school and I’m not very academic, so I pushed and begged and nagged until  my Father let me learn from him. I became a Mechanic since I found I had the mind for it. I persuaded the place my Father worked at to let me do some volunteer work around their workshop. I guess I did well because they offered me a solid job after just under a year. Never seen my Father so proud of me, it’s a memory I cherish.
What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?
The Railroad, The Minutemen and Goodneighbor.
Tell me about your best friend.
Hancock is my closest friend, if it weren’t for him..I’d probably be dead. I would do anything for him, without question. I made a lot of deep friendships in The Railroad and that’s all I’ll say about them. Sturges is an absolute delight and is the first person I bonded with, about mechanics and tinkering of course! Many nights were spent sitting around Sanctuary exchanging knowledge, I always stop by with him whenever I stay in Sanctuary. And of course, MacCready, much more than a lover, so much more.
Do you have a family? Tell me about them!
Well, there’s Shaun of course, even if I don’t know whether he’s alive.. there was Nate..my parents..Family in Italy.. My parents, I’m sure died when the bombs dropped, I’ve not found them at least.. and my family in Italy? I have no idea, I have no way of contacting them.
But really, I have my new family, here in the Commonwealth. So many of them, MacCready and hopefully Duncan, Nick, Piper, Nat, Ellie, Hancock, Daisy, Irma, Ham, The Railroad, The minutemen, Preston, Sturges, The Longs, Mama, Cait, Longfellow, Gage, Danse..gosh..
What about a partner or partners?
MacCready, my sweet soul. We are quite open and polyamorous, so often Hancock, Deacon, sometimes Cait, Ham, Gage and Mags.
Who are your enemies, and why?
The Institute..they probably have Shaun and god knows what they’re doing to him! They ruin lives, orphaning children and taking spouses, sometimes replacing them with a replica to feed back information for whatever reason. They are constantly shitting on the underdog and I can’t stand it.
The Gunners, I hadn’t even heard of them until I overheard them yelling at Mac in The Third Rail. Didn’t even know Mac back then, let alone thought we would be where we are today..but..the way they spoke to him, the things they said..it just got my back up and that was enough for me to hate them. Then I ended up hiring Mac, getting to know him, he told me more about them, we had several run ins with them until eventually, we formulated a plan to take down Winlock and Barnes, driving them back. No one fucks with anyone I care about.
The Disciples, a raider gang in Nuka world. NOTHING I did or said would convince them to live in peace with the traders and settlers of Nuka world. I gave them their own section, I fixed up the fucking park but no, they were just too far gone, cannibals and psychopaths. I managed to save a couple of them, who were just going along with them so they didn’t die, but eventually we had to wipe them out. It took MONTHS to clean their base up, burn all the bodies of the people they’d killed, and theirs of course. Now it looks quite nice and we’ve turned it into a big housing hub for the traders. The pack and The Operators are actually doing really well together, Mason and Mags agreed to weeding out the more barbaric of the members, the ones who didn’t want to live in relative peace. Now they have a couple settlements each in the commonwealth where they’ve actually been hunting game and running jobs for my other settlements, they get a cut of the caps and loot and we always call on them for big jobs like institute attacks and mutant takeovers etc. 
Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them?
I despise the way they speak to Hancock and Nick and when they’re in my presence, they tend to hold their tongue but I have smacked a few of them for their comments. Maxson is...a problem, he’s way too extreme but I do feel like there’s a reasonable and genuine person under that mantle, which honestly must be quite heavy. A lot of the members I’ve met are actually really pleasant and helpful, Knight Rhys is an asshole but there’s always one. 
From what Mac tells me, the Brotherhood inhabiting the Capitol Wastes are a bit crazy, but they DID do a lot for the wasteland, clean water was returned, which sounds amazing. I’ve been to DC a few times, pre war of course but I’d like to see it now..as morbid as that sounds, plus Duncan is there and I can’t wait to meet that tiny man!
Some people have told me stories about outcasts from the Brotherhood who were truly insane, just killing indiscriminately and stealing from settlers...which kinda sounds like the ones here....a little.. and then I met a trader from the Mojave and they told me about the presence there...the less said about that one the better.
I like Danse though! 
What about The Enclave?
I’ve only heard stories, Mac has experienced them first hand and he doesn’t really talk about them too much. Everything I’ve heard has been bad though.
How do you feel about Super Mutants?
Strongs cool, funniest one I’ve ever met but LORD he never shuts up! I built him his own place, got him a couple of dogs and taught him how to farm. He’s doing alright, travels around with his dogs and visits the settlements....much to the settlers dismay. I’ve had him start wearing a specific hat so that the guards don’t just shoot at him when he’s on his travels. Most of them have grown to like him and a lot of the children love him. For some reason he’s very protective of Mac...none of us know why.
I met another friendly Mutant in Far Harbor, he takes in dogs and trains them, sells them onto people. I’ve given him a lot of business since I found him. Cant persuade him to come to one of my settlements though.
As for the hostile ones.. most of them aren’t too hard for us to take down anymore, it’s when there’s a swarm of the fuckers. Mac and I tend to travel just the two of us and we’re both snipers, we can use shorter range weapons of course but we are way more deadly with our rifles, so it’s always a bit awkward when they close the distance. Suiciders will always send me into a panic though.
What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?
Nisha...Mac and I must have given her 5 shots each..and she still kept coming, screaming and bleeding, waving her blade around. She finally stopped inches from my face, Mac got her in the face through the space for her eyes. I was just frozen, never seen anything like it. Mac had to walk me over to a bench by the shoulders and sit me down.
Have you ever fought a Deathclaw?
A few, we try to avoid them though.
Do you like fighting?
Yes and no, neither of us likes to have to do it, it’s a means to live but sometimes the adrenaline is amazing.
What’s your weapon of choice?
50cal Sniper rifle, NV recon scope, recoil compensating stock with a suppressor. 
How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?)
Depends on the situation, I’m pretty good at talking us out of a bad situation, I’m pretty strong for my size and fairly agile. ( S:7 P:8 E:5 C:9 I:7 A:6 L:5)
Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them?
Yes..not a big fan.
How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you?
I have a few mutations now, my eyes are all messed up, I get nausea which makes it difficult to remember to eat. I visit a Dr regularly to get my rads cleared and get some fluids. We thoroughly cook our meat and veg and maintain the water filters regularly to try and reduce the exposure.
What’s your favorite wasteland critter?
RAD CHICKEN! I love them!
What’s your least favorite wasteland critter?
Cave Crickets...fuck those.
How do you feel about robots?
They’re cool! you gotta make sure your coding is solid though, or you might have some issues.
How many caps do you have on you right now?
Uhhh, like 2k? I tend to store the rest.
Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla?
Nuka Cola, never had a Sunset though.
Do you do chems?
Stimpaks, Med-ex, Rad-x and Radaway, not so much the others.
Do you ever think about the Pre-War world?
Every day..
What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently?
It’s hard to say because anything could mean I would never have met Mac and even though this world is...terrifying and awful..I have never loved someone the way I love Mac.. I...have no idea.
What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?
So far my biggest achievement is earning the pride of my Father. Something I hope to achieve? destroy the Institute, save my son and become a family with Mac and Duncan.
What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?
For the future, I want everyone to get to experience peace, I want the world to heal and for us to rebuild. It’s unrealistic..but I want everyone to be safe.
For me? I just want to be with Mac, be safe, both of us, Duncan and Shaun, safe and happy, always full and never wanting. I want the same for my friends and loved one. I want the same for the world.
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telekineticmaniac · 7 years
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Another Anime Convention 2017 — A Review
When I went to AAC this year, I had a moment in my vlogs where I realized just how much I didn’t get to share with you all in my con vlogs. I have a lot of fun filming amusing moments and recounting things that happen but the actual convention and all the bad things that may or may not happen at it, are never really caught on camera. So instead of just not acknowledging everything you don’t see in my con vlogs, and instead of taking up more space in my video schedule with a convention review for every con, I thought I would do some little reviews here on this blog so that you can know the nitty gritty of every con I attend. 
Also, I know it’s kinda of a boring first blog post after saying I wanted to get back into blogging, but I think do it’s important to address. And hey, there will be some totally new things coming your way soon so if you aren’t about this life, you only have to wait a little bit longer. If you are about this life though, totally keep reading!!
The Convention Programming:
Anyone who attends this con can say immediately that is a “beginning” convention. It is very small in both attendance and venue size, but has been growing at least throughout the few years I have attended. I’ve heard people have questionable things to say about staff and the organization of the con in the past, and I personally have had some questions and confusions with the layout and programming, however this year I noticed a huge improvement in all of those things. 
For example, to avoid people flaking out at the last moment, it was actually required for panelists to preregister before submitting a panel. A really simple rule set in place but and effective one as I heard much less stories of friends showing up to panels they were excited to see only to find an empty room. After a glance over the convention schedule, I saw that the content for the panels was however much the same as it has been in years past—lot’s of in character ask panels and joke-y panels. Although it’s not a huge variety like for example a con like Anime Boston may provide, it offers a type of panel that I find a lot of people immersed in specific fandoms really enjoy. 
And then of course there are the events that the convention is known for: the AMV contest and, to a lesser extent, the masquerade. As far as the masquerade goes, I’ve personally always found the numerous judges, categories, and awards to be more a friendly environment than most con’s masquerade atmospheres. It’s usually a very fun show that is more about getting on stage and having a good time rather than showing off the most incredible of costumes. That being said, I think it is incredibly successful at doing that and is usually a highly anticipated event of the convention. On a the completely different end of the spectrum, the AMV contest at this convention is insanely competitive for a “beginning” convention. One might say it even rivals the AMV contest that Anime Boston holds (which is saying something). The people who compete in it produce some of the best AMVs I have ever seen and it is wonderful to pop in a watch a few—or even just watch the winners broadcasted at the end of the masquerade!
Here’s my personal favorite of the AMVs I’ve seen at AAC over the years to show you exactly the ride you are in for with the AAC AMV contest:
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The Crowd:
I’ve always loved the crowd at this convention and this year did not disappoint. I will be perfectly honest, I’m sad to see that the days of AAC being “Homestuck Con” are fading away. However the crowd of the convention continues to be rather accepting of non-traditional genres, like webcomics and podcasts. Although I tend to cosplay whatever the hell genre I want at whatever con I want, whether or not that falls under the over arcing genre of the convention, this can prove problematic at some cons. When I attended Boston Comic Con back in 2014 I received some nasty comments for being a Homestuck instead of cosplaying as someone from a traditional comic book. At Arisia, I have received comments about being a stupid kid who should go back to my anime conventions. This isn’t to say that the every attendee of BCC and/or Arisia was bad, but dealing with hate like this or even dealing with even microaggressions that prioritize specific attendees over others based on what fandoms people are in and what cosplay someone may be wearing certainly affects the overall tone of the crowd.
AAC remains kind of a safe haven for all parts of the nerd community, which I find rather interesting and wonderful all things considered. In a time where we as convention goers have to keep pushing things like “Cosplay is not consent” and reminding people that there is no nerd hierarchy, and continuing to instill the fact that people should absolutely be treated with respect, it refreshing to attend a small convention where overall the crowd is accepting. 
The Surrounding Area:
I have one immediate complaint and that is T H E P A R K. For those of you who know the convention and/or area well, you probably know that there is a beautiful park across the street from the Radisson, where the convention is held. It is where most cosplayers go to get photos because it features pretty stone walls, bronze statues, and a lovely fountain. One might even argue it is the only place to get photos (unless you have an odd and specific location in mind—like one year I got photos of Kaneki in the parking garage becasue that was the tone I wanted). So. WHAT THE HELL WAS THEAT GIANT, GROSS, YELLOW TENT RUINING EVERY POSSIBLE SHOT THAT COULD HAVE BEEN GOT IN THE PARK. I am bitter about the tent. It was honestly a huge let down for me because I was really excited to shoot by the fountain and the tent made that impossible. I’m hopeful that maybe it won’t be there next year, but if it remains up that will be a huge loss for cosplayers looking to attend this convention. 
Also random note, if you know Manchester, NH well and want to share with me what the purpose of the tent was, that would be appreciated. Maybe I’ll end up hating it a bit less.
But yeah, moving on to just talking about Manchester and the people there. I am a resident of Boston, so maybe it’s just me, but I always find Manchester to be so smol. The main strip of road the convention is placed on only has a few restaurants and shops and don’t think I’ve seen more than one hundred people out enjoying the nightlife at one—and there are even less people out during the day. Other than that being different than my Boston lifestyle and that throwing me for a loop, the people are generally friendly and curious about the convention. I have had some really horrible experiences when I have attended conventions involving people harassing me, stalking me, and worse, so generally this is pretty awesome.
This year however my friends and I (and many other attendees) had some serious problems with pedestrians sitting outside the Radisson and taking photos up people’s skirts without their consent. Usually people don’t sit around outside the hotel unless they are involved with the con, however this year the weather was so good it seemed that many people felt that they had a right to just invite themselves onto the hotel grounds, have lunch, and harass cosplayers. This was not okay. It upset a great many people—who were right to be upset. Cosplay is by no means consent and sniping photos that people may not be comfortable with someone taking is not okay. Con security was very helpful in trying to escort the people from the premises, but it was still upsetting and changed my view of the atmosphere of Manchester.
My Personal Experience:
Overall this con was very chill for me this year. I pretty much hung out with my friends and wandered the dealers room for the two days I was able to attend. We didn’t get to involved with the convention itself—we only attended the masquerade—but we did manage to meet new people and enjoy the crowd, which was just lovely. Other than the gross photo taking by passersby, it was quite a wonderful experience and a great end to my official 2017 convention season!
And obviously if you haven’t seen them yet, my convention vlogs can give you a real taste of my personal experience:
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Bottom Line: Would I recommend this con?
I feel like this con is a very niche con. However it’s not one I wouldn’t recommend. To anyone looking for a really chill time—so first time con goers or people who are just looking to end their convention season with some relaxation—I would recommend you this convention. If you like anime or non-traditional genres that will certainly help your convention experience, but if you attend I would have to encourage you to make it what you want. It is chill. You are probably not going to stumble into the best event ever that will totally make the convention for you. But that’s not to say you cannot make your convention experience wonderful with a few good events, a nice place to eat, and some good company!!
And thus ends my first convention review!! I hope you found what I had to say informative if not enjoyable. If you have any questions about this review or suggestions for upcoming reviews, feel free to send me an ask (because Tumblr does not have a functioning comment system at all—yikes)! Until next time Manic Fam!
—MadDog
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