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#i've literally been complaining all month but I would like things to Slow Down a little
thebirdandhersong · 1 year
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perpetually annoyed at how weak my constitution has become
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fawnfictions · 14 days
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i know there’s a lot of this same prompt on this app but i love your writing and i would love to see it from you <33
OK!! Macaque and Wukong with a gender natural reader which simply LOVES their fur and gets really clingy on their tail and ear(s for macaque :3), treating them like a literal plushie
monkie plush!
— wukong & macaque, gn!reader
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i feel the need to personally apologise for how many months it took for me to post this <//3 i've been SO SLOW recently,, i can't guarantee i'll be getting any faster, either
heheuwudhhey!! none of u should worry about sending me an ask with a 'common' prompt—just because someone else has done it before, doesn't mean i won't want to write it!!! i like giving ppl my own opinion on these sorts of headcanons LOL
;; fluff, fluff, and more fluff!! (+mention of something more spicy, but nothing explicit)...
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WUKONG
- he RELISHES in any affection you give him, and he isn't afraid to show it.
- you'll come up behind him, embrace him while rubbing your face in his fur, and he will MELT.
- leans back into your arms, wrapping his tail around you to pull you even closer; and, if you're listening closely, you might hear quiet purring.
- honestly, he'll do the same to you — compared to monkey hair, human hair is VERY soft and feels very nice :3
- cuddles between you two are just constantly rubbing your faces in each others hair.
- i can also imagine that his tail would be sensitive, as most monkey's tails are...
- be careful, though, because certain areas of his tail are more sensitive than others — you may run into a situation you didn't mean to...
- ...ANYWAYS
- while i can imagine him being the big spoon a majority of the time, he could TOTALLY be a little spoon.
- he enjoys being able to hold YOU, since he likes feeling in control, and as if he's protecting you, but he'll happily sit back and let you cuddle him.
- play with his hair, twirl his tail, brush him...
- tbh, the other monkeys would probably join you a lot, interpreting it as a grooming session.
- me and the boys [monkeys], grooming each other on a sunday morning.
- he will complain, though, if you don't let him cuddle YOU sometimes.
- you two are almost sickening with the amount of PDA you show; cue MK pretending to puke in the background, but Wukong does have SOME decency, and will get a little embarrassed if you take it too far.
- if you're both out in public, chilling in Megapolis or something, and you start rubbing your face in his fur and cooing at him? he'll go red pretty quickly, and shyly respond with small affections in an attempt to sate your clinginess for now.
- this especially goes for being around people he feels the need to keep a reputation up with — like, the brotherhood, although most of them would laugh it off, they'll tease him for it at some point, or anyone from the celestial realm.
- he'll make it up to you later with plenty of cuddles, but for now? he's gotta look cool and tough in front of lil' old Nezha /j
MACAQUE
- hes touch starved as hell (we all know it).
- BUT he gets shy when it comes to affection, but he's hypocritical about it...
- constantly drapes himself over your shoulders, resting his head on top of your own when he gets the chance, etc etc.
- however, if you DARE even try to hug him, he's gonna get real nervous.
- doesn't know how to properly relax at your touch; he may not exactly move away from you, but he won't lean into it (at first).
- this especially goes for PDA – he loves you, but not now; he's gotta look cool and mysterious at all times.
- if you're with people that he lets his guard down around, he'll be a bit more playful with you.
- he notices you attempting to sneak behind him for a cuddle attack? next thing you know, theres a familiar cape-covered arm thrown over your shoulder, blocking your affection with his own with a teasing smile.
- he IS different when in private, though !!
- more willing to give in to your touches, but it is clear that he's unsure how to feel about it.
- after a while, though, i feel that he would learn to find a lot of comfort in your hands ?
- like, if he's had a rough day, he'll probably seek you out to be showered in affection,, in a way, it makes him feel very loved and worthy.
- he's such a little spoon too, i'm sorry LOL
- but he has his confident days, just ask and he'll be happy to be the one holding you instead.
- it took a while for him to be comfortable with normal affection, yeah? well, it's gonna take even LONGER for him to be comfortable with touching his ears, let alone losing the glamour on them.
- the day he lets his glamour down around you, is the day he's decided that you're stuck with him forever, sorry to break it to you...
- his ears are VERY sensitive, so please be careful, he's very cautious with you touching them.
- but he'll never admit how nice it feels for you to massages his ears, especially with how much stress they give him from the loud noises in the city (not that you can't tell, he's practically melted into your lap and would ABSOLUTELY be purring if he could).
- overall, it takes time, and he won't ever be fully comfortable with PDA, but he's a big softie in private <3
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itgetsbetterproject · 2 months
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Apply now through April 1 - can't wait to see what you all come up with.
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bingbongsupremacy · 9 months
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How To Kiss
Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader
Warnings: Confusion about Sexuality. I've never actually read a teen magazine so idk if they had shit like this. Sounded good. Ellie and Reader are like teens in this rn. It's going to fast forward to when they're older in the part 2 im going to do.
I haven't had my first kiss yet. Hopefully someday bros.
Summary: The day you and Ellie discovered you were both gay.
Song: I kissed a girl - Katy Perry
(Btw Credit to Liv McConnel at teen vogue for the kissing steps. I took them from there. )
Also Joel works at an Auto Shop in this.
*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist
Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3
*****
My fingers brush over the shiny pages of Savage Starlight. Ellie quietly hums along while tapping her foot on her space themed bed cover.
" Fuck no. " Ellie mutters, flipping the page of the comic. " That ass. " She whispers.
A small grin makes its way onto my face. Ellie's habit of talking to herself while reading her comics is the funniest thing.
I finish the book and turn to look at my best friend. Her brows furrow in concentration. Her top teeth softly bite down on her lower lip, her gaze focused on the pages in front of her. She lets out a sigh and shuts the comic, glancing over at me. " I can't believe we have to wait until next month for the next book. I need to know now! " Ellie complains with a huff.
" I know! " I turn my gaze up at the ceiling. " At least we have the rest of the books to re-read. "
Ellie hums in agreement. " What should we do now? Joel's not going to be home for another hour. He's bringing pizza. "
Ellie's adoptive father was working a late shift at the auto shop he worked at.
" Nice! " I sit up and turn to her. " Guess what I snagged from my sister. " I smirk while pulling open my brightly colored backpack.
" Um uh a dog? "
I roll my eyes. " Why the hell would I keep a dog in my backpack for so long, Ellie. "
Ellie shrugs and leans back against her headboard. " Variety is the spice of life. "
I chuckle. " What the fuck. "
I pull out a teen magazine. " It's a girl magazine thing! My sister has like seventy of these from when she was younger. I found them when I was snooping around this morning! " I grin while flipping through the pages. I open up to a page of Justin Bieber. " Justin Bieber is in like almost all of these! "
Ellie crinkles her nose. " Bro not Justin. "
I roll my eyes and toss one of the magazines to her. " I thought we could look at them. "
We flip through the pages of the magazines. We take some quizzes (All of which Ellie makes fun of) and read some of the advice.
" How To Kiss " Ellie reads out loud. " What the hell. " She goes to turn the page.
" Wait! Let's read it. " I reach for the magazine.
" Why? It's not like you have a boyfriend. " Ellie smirks.
I glare at the girl. " Fuck you, Ellie. I just want to read it, okay? Who knows, we might need that in the future? "
" Fine. " Ellie sighs. " Fine. "
The two of you huddle around the brightly colored magazine.
1. Build up to the kiss.
2. Make sure the kiss has your, and the other party’s, consent.
3. Start things slow.
4. Keep your mouth soft and relaxed.
5. Switch your area of focus and/or your speed.
6. Speaking of area of focus — move things away from their lips.
7. Go easy on the tongue.
8. Don’t overthink it.
9. Talk about it afterward!
" Doesn't sound that hard. I literally could've told you that. " Ellie mutters. " Kissing isn't a hard concept. "
I continue on reading through the different categories. " But like, it seems hard. How do you know if the other person likes it? "
Ellie grabs a small ball from her bedside table and starts throwing it up into the air. " They'll probably tell you. "
" Have you had your first kiss? " I ask while watching the other girl curiously. She would've told me if she'd been kissed, right? I mean, we tell each other everything. It's always been that way, always will be that way.
Ellie pauses throwing the ball and glances down at me. " No. " She admits, a small blush crawling onto her cheeks. " But I mean, kissing can't be that hard. It's like...common sense. People do it all the time. "
I frown. " What if I'm a bad kisser? "
" You won't be. " Ellie shakes her head. " Stop reading that shit, it's getting in your head. Let's just do something else. Like watch a movie or something. "
" Seriously tho, El. What if I'm a bad kisser. What if the person I kiss is so horrified by my kissing, they leave me? " A million scenarios run through my head.
Ellie lets out a groan. " Oh my god. Will you just stop. You're going to be a fine kisser. " Ellie meets your gaze. " Look, if...if you want to...we could like I don't know. Practice or something. " A tinge of red spreads over Ellie's cheeks. She avoids my gaze, instead staring straight at the magazine.
I look at her in shock. Kissing Ellie? I'd be lying if I said I never had thoughts of kissing her before...but everyone has thoughts, right? I mean Ellie's eyes are some of the prettiest I've ever seen. She's definitely attractive. But I like boys. I think. Plus Ellie's not gay. Right?
Ellie shifts uncomfortably. " Never mind, that was-that was stupid of me to offer. Let's just watch a show-"
" No. " I shake my head. " Let's do it. I mean, we both need practice. " Suddenly it feels like my heart starts pounding faster. My fingers feel the urge to fidget with something out of pure anxiety.
Ellie nods and moves the magazine to the side. She positions herself in front of me, on her knees. Ellie eyes meet with mine before she glances down at the magazine, obviously looking over the steps.
I'm about to comment on her hypocrisy when she suddenly puts her hand on my chin. She draws her face close to mine. Her minty breath fans over my mouth, causing me to freeze in anticipation.
Ellie slowly leans in. In seconds, I feel her warm lips on mine.
My heart feels like it explodes. Butterflies seem to soar around my stomach, confusing me. What am I feeling? What is this? How is this happening?
My eyes study Ellie's relaxed face. Her eyes are closed. Her long brown lashes rest peacefully on her cheeks. Deciding to follow her lead, I try to relax. I close my eyes and follow her slow mouth movements.
All worries and thoughts of mine seem to melt away. What are the steps again? I don't remember?
We spend who knows how long kissing before Ellie starts to speed up. She places a small kiss on the corner of my lip before pulling away panting.
The loss of her lips leaves a pit of disappoints in my stomach. I ignore it and look up at her eyes.
An unfamiliar expression is sprawled on her face. Maybe realization?
" That was.." Ellie begins.
" Not bad. " I grin.
Ellie chuckles. " Yeah. Not bad. " Ellie shuts off the radio and turns on the small tv on her dresser. " What should we watch? "
_______
We never kissed again after that. Things remained the same. Ellie and I still hung out every Friday at her house to read comics and watch movies. We sat together at school with Dina and Jesse.
The only things that changed were my feelings. I started to develop a crush on Ellie, not that I could ever act on it. Ellie didn't like me back.
It wouldn't matter anyways. Ellie's sister Sarah ended up getting really sick, causing Ellie's family to move to another state to get better care for her. Somewhere along the line we stopped talking. Slowly, calls every day turned to calls once a week and eventually to once a year.
I get it. Life goes on. I'm in the past. Friendships die. Nothing lasts forever.
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stupid-hoe-shit · 2 years
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Heey, nice to meet you!
I've had this headcannon in my head for the longest time and I just KNOW that after Luffy has sex once he's gonna want it as much as food (ok maybe not that much) and I also just know he's gonna flat out ask for it in front of the entire crew, can you imagine it?
Poor y/n just sun bathing then Luffy strolls over and straight up says "y/n i wanna have sex again" for the entire crew to hear, their reactions would be just priceless, Sanji would straight up pass out on the spot upon hearing and processing it LMAO.
Anyway, do with this whatever u want,
Kisses and hugs from Brazil <3
OMG THIS IS SO TRUE
tw: mentions of sex, horny luffy
imagine, you and luffy have been together for awhile, and being his partner has been a dream come true. you started out slow, only having your first kiss a few months into your relationship.
you brought the idea of sex to him a little while back, and his response was, “sure, why not?”
ever since then? oh boy.
every time he sees you he can’t seem to stop himself from feeling you up, caressing your lower back, touching your chest, anything.
you could be talking to nami and he could come up behind you, hugging you and resting his head on your shoulder. from anyone else’s perspective, it would be seen as innocent. but only you could easily feel the bulge in his pants pressing up against your ass.
ever since you two both had sex, he has been like animal in heat. he has become addicted to you, and you can’t really complain. however, it starts to become a problem when he is suddenly less shameless.
you are lying out on the deck, soaking up some sun on the sunny with robin and nami. the rest of the crew is on the deck too. chopper and usopp are fishing, franky is tinkering with a device, brook is playing his violin, and sanji is serving you, nami, and robin some sweet drinks.
you and luffy have been having sex all day. literally all day. he can’t seem to get enough.
you suddenly hear the door to his cabin slam open. the rest of the crew hears the sound but doesn’t think to much of it. luffy is always making some sort of noise. however what they weren’t expecting was luffy walking to you, poking you in the side, and saying,
“hey y/n, can we have sex again?”
the sunny has never been more quiet than it is now. sanji breaks the silence.
“HUH?!?! EXCUSE ME?!??! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY Y/N!!”
“huh? what’s the problem?” luffy says, scratching is head. zoro is now cackling while nami and robin are laughing behind their hands.
usopp is beyond red-faced at this point, as chopper is now down on the ground, wondering what his life had come to. franky is laughing along with zoro and the rest, now longer in shock, as brook is now doing his weird laugh.
you, on the other hand, now want to crawl into a ditch and never come out. your hands cover your face in embarrassment.
sanji continues to yell at luffy until he eventually gives up and goes to the corner of the deck, tracing lines on the floor in despair.
“well y/n, can we?” luffy asks for the second time, looking so innocent that you might think he doesn’t know know what he is doing.
but, behind that big smile, you can see that he knows exactly what he’s doing and his true goal: to make you embarrassed.
you eventually take your head out of your hands and look at him, giving him a death stare.
“i guess that’s a no?” luffy says, as you get up from your spot and start hitting saying thing like,
“why would ask me that in front of the crew!?” are you trying to embarrass me?!” “what is wrong with you!?!?!"
lets just say, you and luffy had a long talk after that. well, there actually wasn't much talking ;)
-
thank you so much for requesting!! this was so fun to write and made me more motivated to write!! i also really agree with this hc lmao.
thank you for reading and have an amazing day!! <3
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pastelink33 · 1 year
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The Daily Life of a Wannabe X Rank
Chapter 2: A Long Train Ride
The train ride was a long one, that's for sure.
Taking a deep breath, Kyra sighs as she swings her legs. The gift her mom got her and the food she packed was on the pull-out table in front of her. She was a bit nervous, if she was going to be honest with herself. She was rather hasty about this, to her mothers defense. But when your childhood friend calls you up, saying he needs help, and needs a roommate, you can't let that kind of opportunity go to waste. It had only been a week since that call was made, and she left almost everything behind. 
But that was quite literally behind her right now. She had to focus on the now.
And that means the gift and food in front of her.
Ripping open the gift, she couldn't help but smile. 
It was a hat, but not just any hat. Her mothers hat, the one she always wore and kept with her throughout her career.
Putting it on, she notices a note, plus a small purse and an old camera that prints the photos instantly.
“Dear Kyra,” she reads,” I knew this time would come eventually. I've kept you cooped up in this place for far long enough. Here’s a little money, something to capture memories, and my lucky hat. It was the first thing I ever rolled pure, and always helped me when I was at my lowest. I hope it brings you luck in your new life. Stay safe, Love you, Mom
P.s. Say hi to Haru for me!”
Kyra brushed away a few tears, before folding up the note. Her mom and her have always butted heads, similar personalities and different world views would do that. But deep down she knew that they loved each other dearly. 
Placing the note in her bag, she opened the purse, and gave a harsh cough, barely believing the amount of money she saw in there.
“1-10k?!” she quietly cried out. This was a ludicrous amount of money, especially considering how her mom budgeted. Either her mom saved up a lot, or she has a side gig…probably the second option…since she had a side gig as the new captain, ugh.
Shaking her head, she places it in her bags’ pocket, taking a moment to let it sink in. That amount would be enough for a few months of groceries, plus rent. 
She reaches for the bag with the snacks, and looks in. 
Bluemellon pops, strawberry smoothie, and a crab trap sandwich-homemade style.
All of her favorites…her mom must have spent a lot, as bluemellons were out of season.
Popping a bluemellon pop in her mouth, she looks out the window, seeing the inkopolis bay spreading out as far as the eye could see. It would take about five hours to get to the Splatlands, a good half hour of that is crossing the New Hammerhead Bridge. Her mom always complained that it was never open in her day. Back then, the Splatlands and Inkopolis never really interacted, as the only main way went right next to Octoling territory. 
Relationships with Octarians today were much better, but a lot of them still hold grudges, so it was better to avoid that area if possible.
Of course, not all Octolings were in octo valley. Like her best friend Haru! He was a shy boy who grew up in Tidal County, a place a few miles from Inkopolis. Octolings were pretty accepted there, she thinks.
A noise pulled her out of her thoughts, the train was slowing for another stop.
“Attention passengers, Now arriving at Inkacago. The next stop will be —.” she zoned out again. It would be a few hours till you got into the Splatlands, but it didn't really bug her. 
That was, until a tall octoling sits next to her, a backpack in hand. He was dark skinned, a blue afro for his hair, and dressed in a miss-matched kind of way. A baggy sweater, a foodnet with clear sunglasses, and super short shorts with flip-flops on. He looked ready for a beach day, if she was going to be honest. 
“So, you gonna say something, or are you just staring into space?” he chuckles.
 She jumps, and gives a nervous laugh.
“Sorry, spacing out as I thought, didn’t mean to stare.”
“It’s okay, I get it. Names Aspen.” he holds out his hand.
“Kyra, Kyra Starr.” I shake it with a smile.
“So, Kyra, where are you headed?”
“Splatsville, helping out a friend and to move.”
“Ahh totally understand. I’m moving too. Same place actually. Got a roommate to bunk with for the time being.”
“Oh cool!” Kyra smiles, and picks up her phone, ending the conversation.
Aspen seems to understand, and turns to his as well.
After a few hours, an announcement comes on over the intercom.
“Attention passengers, if you look to your right, you can see the Grand Chaos Mountains. Welcome to the Splatlands.”
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appareils-futiles · 1 year
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Went yesterday to the doctor because I went 2 weeks ago today to get a referral for blood work for school/work. Their internet was down so they took my papers and said once it was up they'd send it to the place and send me a copy. I gave them 2 days. I called Saturday, Monday and nothing. Left a message to the blood lab Monday morning. Nothing. I went yesterday and ONE person did the thing, well turns out I didn't need it cause they still sent it over. Well whatever I got a copy. I went to the blood spot today, and the tech was super rude. The temptation to tell her I hope she gets some D soon Was real. But I ofcourse always have to be the adult. Disgusting I know.
Anywho I walked over to Dyckman to get some food cause I hadn't eaten and it hit me that when I was growing up all the people working in Dyckman were my age or older, now they are much younger. Decade plus and rude as f. I had ONE nice younger girl today but that's it. It also hit me that the last time I was in Dyckman must of been HS back in 2003-2007 and the apparently now exit only train station probably still looks like an episode of Criminal Minds/SVU where there's a rape victim bleeding out but no one knows cause no one goes to the lower level.
Dyckman was a disappointment, not as lively as it used to be.
Anywho after food I walked a few blocks to get the train (still hood) then one stop over to 181st & St. Nicholas (or as it's referred to....Washington Heights) I was just a few blocks from The U jted Palace theater. And it was so lively. Not as lively as it was when I was growing up and not as lively as it is in the summer/warmer months but still bustling. Im sad that I'm heading back to The Bronx. I Remember my old client telling me how The BX has lots of cool/fun/interesting stuff to do cause I said I was going to see Lin and The Lopezes at United Palace and the month before I had see Lin & Danai Gurira there too and complained how The Bronx, was so boring. I explained that the things I liked, musicals, concerts, plays, skating, the arts, my people, the people I had most in common with, were all outside of The Bronx and all the activities that interest me are rarely if ever in The Bronx and if they are it's a low rent watered down hood version and we Bronxities ruin it by being loud/extra/hood/unappreciative/Clown on it.
A prime example of this is when the Dolphins were in The BX River a couple of months back and ppl were talking shit in the IG comments. I, with my highest liked comment said, "we aren't scientists or marine biologists regress of why they are there, it's a rare sight, just enjoy it. Why the f do we Bronxitites gotta ruin everything. Enjoy it or just shut up and don't ruin it for every one. Just go on your merry way."
There's no need for it. I've always felt out of place in The Bronx. It feels like there's no going up from there. Why do you think all the still relevant celebs who live until adulthood in the bronx move out of the bronx as soon as they make good money? Cause there's literally nothing here.
I always loved going to WH when I was a kid. Even with it was with my mom being embarrassing and slow. I honestly would rather live there than the BX. And guess who else lives there, apparently walking distance from the United palace?? Lin.
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Keep Fighting
Inspiration From This Lovely Prompt By murdermuffinkink:
Loki and Tony are in abusive relationships with each of their partners. Loki had long since given up on getting out of his own but when he sees Tony still struggling and fighting against Steve, he decides that if he can't get out of his own abusive relationship with Thor, he can at least help Tony get out of his.
⚠️Warnings: Abusive Relationship(s), Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Omega Verse, Self Harm, Suicide Attempt, Etc.⚠️
Enjoy 💚❤
Loki had given up nearly two hundred years ago in getting away from Thor. He tried many times but Thor had a tight hold on his leash, never letting Loki get far.
So, after what felt like a thousand years of fighting his relationship with Thor, he finally gave up and gave in, simply letting it happen. At least it was less painful when he was pliant and obedient.
When he had fallen from the Bifrost, he had thought for a minute, maybe he could finally be free. Free of Thor and all the hurt he'd caused. But it was never so easy for him.
Thor managed to get his hands back on Loki after he lost during the attack on New York. Thor was determined to never let Loki slip away again, using Loki's 'evil villain' status as an excuse to restrict Loki's magic to the point that it was barely there anymore.
Loki didn't tell anyone of how he was tortured for months and forced to attack Midgard. Who would believe him?
For a minute, Loki had been glad he lost. It was always the plan to lose, to be captured by the Avengers and taken back to Asgard and thrown in a cell. At least then, Thor wouldn't be able to touch him again.
But Thor never ended up taking him back to Asgard. He had instead asked Steve Rogers, the leader of the Avengers group if Loki could stay on Midgard.
Thor had played all teary eyed, telling the Avengers how he knew Loki was good inside, how he just needed some time to remember who he was. Not that Loki could forget. He remembered who he was before Thor had taken his whole world and freedom away from him. There had never been a choice for him.
Steve had agreed to let Loki stay, apparently moved by Thor caring so much for the wayward villain, so long as it was at the Tower where the Avengers could keep an eye on him.
They figured out soon enough why that was, how Thor cared for Loki as a lover. It sickened Loki that the Avengers didn't have a problem with it, that it was completely fine.
Sometimes, Loki had dark thoughts. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he simply ended it all. Would anyone notice? Would anyone care? He was sure Thor would but that wasn't because he cared. He would only be upset that he lost his favourite toy.
The only reason Loki hadn't tried was because one, it was ridiculously hard to kill himself, not because he wasn't able to go through with it but because he was a god. God's were terribly hard to kill. Loki would know. He'd tried to kill Thor hundreds of times before. Never mind how many times he'd tried to kill himself.
And two was because of a certain mortal genius.
Loki wasn't sure at first what it was about Tony Stark that drew him. Sure, Tony was rather handsome and very intelligent for a mortal but there was something else about him that Loki...related to. The nearly defeated look in his eyes that were always cast towards the floor.
It wasn't until Loki saw Tony with Steve that he understood what it was that drew him.
It was early in the morning, Loki always getting up before Thor, (because if he didn't, he would end up under Thor for the rest of the morning) sitting at the kitchen table. Loki didn't speak to the other Avengers much, opting to pretend he was too tired to talk so he didn't have to converse with anyone. Nor, he thought, did any of them want to.
Steve was making everyone breakfast like he did every morning, Natasha and Clint talking to one another. Bruce wasn't yet awake and Tony was a wild card. He could still be asleep or he could have been holed up in his lab, getting no sleep the entire night.
Apparently the latter as Tony arrived a little while later as Steve was serving up breakfast, Tony looking bleary eyed as he made a beeline for the coffee machine.
Steve turned his head, watching with a frown as Tony poured himself a mug. "You didn't come to bed last night."
"I got busy," Tony said with a slight shrug, giving Steve a gentle smile. "Did you miss me, Captain?"
Steve frowned disapprovingly. "I'm being serious, Tony. I told you not to be in the lab all the time."
Tony sighed as he filled a mug. "I've been getting plenty of sleep, alright? Relax, Stevie, I'm fine."
"Tony," Steve said, his tone taking on a slightly warning edge, stepping closer to the genius.
Loki was the only one who saw Tony flinch, eyes flicking down to the floor. "I'll try not to go in the lab so much, okay?"
"Good," Steve said with a nod, a smile suddenly on his face at Tony's agreement. "Want some breakfast?"
Loki glanced at Tony who wasn't smiling, eyes down at his drink as he nodded his head. Tony looked up at the others, almost like he was checking to see if anyone had noticed and frowned when he saw Loki watching him.
But Loki didn't look away and neither did Tony. Not until strong arms suddenly wrapped around Loki from behind and a voice spoke in his ear. "There you are, Loki."
Loki didn't greet Thor back, instead tearing his gaze from Tony's as he looked pointedly back at his plate of untouched food.
After that, Loki continued to watch how Tony acted around Steve. He was always defiant at first, always arguing with whatever Steve told him but as soon as Steve made one threatening movement, so subtle that nobody but Loki noticed, Tony would immediately shut up and agree with whatever Steve had said.
There was a difference between him and Tony though. Tony was clearly still fighting back whereas Loki had already given up.
It was...refreshing though it hurt, reminding Loki of a time he used to fight back too. He didn't want to see Tony suffer how he did but he didn't know how he was meant to help without alerting Thor or even Steve to what he was doing.
But Loki would try to help Tony fight.
Because if he couldn't save himself, he could at least try and save Tony.
...
Tony wished he could get away from Steve sometimes. That he could simply leave.
But he couldn't. Nobody would listen to an Omega complain about how their Alpha abused them. Abused Omega's were always ignored, told that they were overreacting, that they were too soft and couldn't handle a little pressure.
Of course, he could always just kick Steve out of the Tower, make him leave. But that could cause more problems than Tony wanted to deal with. Fury would have his hide if he pulled something like that. As much as Tony didn't want to admit it, the world needed Captain America.
So Tony gritted his teeth and pushed through it. Besides, it wasn't so bad. Steve could get angry and a little too rough sometimes but it wasn't anything that Tony couldn't deal with.
And it had been fine until he realized he wasn't the only one who was being forced into a relationship he didn't want.
Jarvis had brought it to his attention, how Loki didn't eat much, barely got enough sleep and was constantly injured in some way.
Tony, despite being a genius, had been a little slow on trying to figure out how and why Loki was getting so hurt when all he did was lounge around the Tower.
But then he thought of Thor, how the god was always hovering over Loki. At least, Tony had assumed it was because he didn't want Loki getting up to no good. But it had been months since the attack and Loki hadn't tried to do a single evil thing in all that time.
It made Tony wonder if Loki was really that evil to begin with. For a guy apparently hellbent on ruling Earth, he had given up pretty damn easy, barely putting up a fight when Thor cuffed him. Almost like he had wanted to lose.
But that hadn't been the point. The point had been Loki getting hurt and as much as Loki was a villain, Tony didn't like people getting hurt under his roof.
It didn't take much snooping for Tony to figure out how Loki was getting himself hurt. Or more, who was getting Loki hurt.
Tony hated it but he knew there was nothing he could really do. He had gone up against Thor before with his suit and if Steve hadn't stepped in, he wasn't sure what would have happened.
Besides, it wasn't like Tony was in a better position. Steve would be furious if he found out Tony was taking a villains side or say he was being influenced somehow.
Still, Tony wished he could punch Thor and make it hurt.
But what was one little Omega going to do against a literal god? How could he help Loki when he could barely help himself?
...
"What were you thinking, Tony?!"
"I just—"
"That's right! You weren't thinking, were you?"
Loki watched along with the other Avengers as Tony was shouted at by Steve, doing nothing to stop it. Apparently the mission had gone sideways and Tony had nearly gotten himself extremely hurt, throwing himself into the line of fire to protect one of the others.
Loki wasn't sure why Steve was so upset. They were superheroes, weren't they? It was their job to protect and if they got hurt, that was a part of the risk.
Of course, Loki hadn't been there to see it for himself. He wasn't trusted to go on missions with the Avengers (nor did he want to) so he had to stay at the Tower with Thor watching him. Only, Thor did a lot more than simply watch him. His hips were already bruising from the blond's harsh grip.
Tony was staring at the floor now, not even trying to defend himself as Steve lectured on and on. Nobody said anything until Steve finally finished, taking a breather.
"Come on, Tony," Steve said finally, grabbing Tony's wrists in a too tight grip and dragged him to the elevator before anyone, even Tony, could get a word out.
Loki watched them go, fingers twitching in his lap, itching to race after the pair and yank Tony away from Steve but he couldn't. Without his magic, he was useless to help. All it would do was make Steve angrier and Thor would be even less impressed.
Loki saw Tony later in the day. Loki was on the couch, reading a book. Thor was thankfully down in the gym training and had ordered Loki to stay in their room.
Of course, Loki hadn't listened. Just because he had given up on getting away from Thor, it didn't mean he listened to everything the Thunder god demanded of him.
So when Tony walked into the kitchen for coffee, Loki watched the slight limp the mortal sported with narrowed green eyes.
As if knowing he was being watched, Tony turned his head, looking surprised to see Loki sitting on the couch. "Oh, hi Lokes. I didn't think anyone would be out here."
Loki raised an eyebrow, glancing at Tony's wrists and noted the bruises ringing around each one, just barely hidden beneath his long sleeved shirt. "You sound disappointed."
"No, I'm not, I just..." Tony sighed. "Never mind."
Loki frowned slightly, sitting up a little straighter. "Steve has been...treating you right lately?"
Tony stared at him, eyes going a little wide. "Excuse you."
Loki looked pointedly at Tony's wrists making the genius glance down at them and pale, quickly tugging the sleeves down.
Loki sighed, shaking his head. "Why do you put up with it? You could leave him."
Tony looked up at him, still looking rather pale though almost angry but it didn't seem to be directed at Loki. "Like you with Thor?"
Loki gave Tony a surprised look. He didn't think anyone had realized what Thor did to him.
"Jarvis," Tony said simply in explanation.
Loki pressed his lips into a thin line. "That's different."
"How exactly?" Tony asked, setting his mug on the kitchen bench as he walked over to Loki.
Loki glared at him for a moment but he wasn't angry. Just...upset. He thought Tony would understand.
But then, Tony hadn't given up like he had.
"You wouldn't understand," Loki whispered. "Nor do I want you to."
Tony's expression became a little sad, almost as if he did understand. Loki couldn't look at him as Tony sat beside him, gently leaning into the god who after a long minute, did the same.
Maybe Loki couldn't help Tony as much as he hoped but he could still do small things like this to show Tony he wasn't alone.
Or maybe Loki simply liked feeling that he wasn't alone himself.
...
Tony felt like he was minutes away from breaking down, constantly on the verge of tears as he did what he needed to throughout the day.
Steve had done something unforgivable last night. Tony could barely look at him the whole day though Steve had kept his distance. He didn't know why he was so surprised since Steve seemed to have no problem hitting him and yelling at him but this...
Tony had said no, had told him to stop and Steve...Steve just...
Steve raped him.
Oh god's, he was going to be sick—
"Anthony?"
Tony forced his slightly watery eyes up to meet those green ones he knew belonged to Loki. "O-oh. Hey, Lokes."
Loki frowned deeply, taking in Tony's tearful brown eyes. "What happened?"
Tony swallowed repeatedly, trying and failing to form words. How could he even begin to explain?
But Loki...Loki would understand. Loki knew what it was like...to be...to be...
A sob burst past Tony's lips before he could stop it and in one second and the next, he was gathered up in Loki's arms, held tight against the god's chest as Tony trembled, tears falling down his cheeks.
Loki didn't ask, didn't force Tony to talk. He didn't need to. Tony was sure Loki already figured it out on his own.
Loki didn't let him go though.
...
After that, Loki and Tony looked out for each other.
Whenever Loki came from the room he shared with Thor, bruises all over his aching body, Tony was there, offering to watch a movie together or hang out with him in the safety of his lab. It was either a distraction from the pain or a way to get away from Thor without him realizing it.
And when Tony came back after an argument with Steve or walked into the kitchen looking so pale that Loki barely had to guess what had happened, Loki would be there to pull the genius into his arms and hold him tight, letting him break down in his arms.
They both hid the abuse they endured from the others, either afraid of being judged as weak and pathetic or worried the others would think they deserved it and contribute to the abuse.
But they didn't mind so much because they had one another to keep each other from falling into their dark thoughts.
It took a while for both of them to realize that despite their situation, despite being in a relationship (even if it wasn't one they wanted) and despite both being Omega's, they wanted each other.
Tony realized first, Loki still being in denial, not because he didn't want Tony, much the opposite, but because he knew it would lead nowhere. If Thor found out he had feelings for someone else, Tony would be in danger of Thor. Loki couldn't do that to him.
It still didn't stop Loki from one day kissing Tony in the privacy of his lab, wishing things were different.
...
Loki knew he was going to get into trouble. If Thor caught him...
But it didn't matter. He didn't care anymore. He'd stopped caring about his own pain a long time ago.
Especially since the dagger was slowly bloodying his wrists. No, he wasn't trying to kill himself. There was no point. This wouldn't be enough to kill himself. Blood loss was nothing for a god.
But it was enough to cut through the magic restraints on his wrists.
Why would Loki risk Thor's wrath if he caught Loki doing this?
Because he had passed by Tony's room earlier in the day, had heard him scream and something in Loki ripped apart at the sound, making him throw all caution to the wind.
So he had gone through Thor's things, finding the enchanted daggers that Thor had taken from Loki and used them to cut the restraints off, ignoring whenever it cut into his skin. The pain was nothing to knowing that Tony was in danger from his Alpha.
As soon as he was free of the bands, he teleported from his room to Tony's, not caring for what he might find, only caring about protecting Tony, keeping Tony safe.
But surprisingly, he didn't find Steve there, towering over Tony. Though Tony was clearly not okay.
"Anthony," Loki whispered, kneeling down in front of the figure shaking at the foot of the bed on the floor. "Anthony, Darling, look at me."
Tony wouldn't meet his eyes though, legs against his chest. Loki took comfort in the fact that Tony was clothed though it didn't mean much. If it had happened again, Tony simply could have redressed himself before Loki arrived.
But that wasn't the case. Loki knew because he soon saw the cuts on Tony's wrists and felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably. Tony had tried to kill himself.
"Oh, Anthony, no..." Loki whispered, grimacing at the blood on Tony's hands.
"He s-saw it," Tony stuttered out, shivering slightly. "He saw it and h-he got angry and grabbed m-my wrists and i-it opened back u-up and he h-hit me and...and..."
"Sh, sh. Hush, Anthony," Loki murmured, taking Tony's hands, ignoring the blood over them.
Tony sobbed, shaking his head, trying in vain to tug his hands back. "I can't do it anymore. I c-can't, please, Loki. I don't want him to t-touch me anymore."
Loki's heart broke, remember thinking the same thing two hundred years ago. "You don't have to do this anymore, I swear it."
Tears streaked Tony's face as he continued shaking his head, shivering and muttering under his breath. "There's n-nowhere we c-can g-go and I can't l-leave you h-here with h-him."
Loki had been wondering why Tony hadn't simply got up and left yet despite all of Steve's abuse. Now that he knew why, he both wanted to hug Tony and call him an idiot.
"You won't be leaving me here with him," Loki said, gently brushing his fingers over the cut and was relieved to see his magic working to heal the self inflicted wound. "In fact, you're coming with me, off of this realm entirely."
Tony stared with wide eyes at the newly healed skin, then up at Loki. "You have you're m-magic back? How? W-when?
"About five minutes ago," Loki stated plainly. "Do you want to leave with me, Anthony?"
Tony took a shaky breath, nodding his head. "P-please."
That was all Loki needed to tighten his grip on Tony's hand, pulling him into his waiting arms, pressing his lips to Tony's like he'd been yearning to do since the first time in the lab.
He remembered the words Tony had told him that day after their kiss, echoing in his head now.
'Keep fighting, Loki. Keep fighting because you're all that's stopping me from giving up. Keep fighting for me.'
And Loki had. He had but now...now they didn't have to fight anymore.
In one moment and the next, the pair vanished from the floor of Tony's room and reappeared somewhere far away where neither of them could ever be hurt by any Alpha ever again.
...
@murdermuffinloki I was going to add Bucky into this but then I'd end up writing a whole damn book and I have enough to write as it is but I just couldn't resist writing a oneshot for this, hsusyjwdj. Hope you enjoyed! :D
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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years
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Patience | Loki Laufeyson
Hey lovelies!! I caved and wrote this in the car today LOL! I've never written smut this short so I hope it still has all the goodness of a longer piece! it's def a challenge but I am quite pleased with the outcome! I hope you've all had a wonderful day and do enjoy Loki edging his girl in the castle gardens!
Appetizers (Tags): Smut, Fluff
Entres (Pairing): Loki x F!Reader (third person)
Sides (Prompts): 7: “Teach me.”
Notes: Loki is 'teaching' reader how to use her magic, requested by @hellotvshowtrash
THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!!
Word Count: 1.7k
Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List
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“Teach me.”
When she had asked that she never thought it would mean this. She never thought it would mean her back being pressed against the castle wall, Loki’s hand— one of many— pressing against her lips, keeping the feeble moans contained as another hand traces a delicate line down her navel.
She’s still fully clothed when his invisible fingers dip past her panties, only just having begun a walk through the gardens with the trickster god she’s grown fond of. He’s been charged with showing her the ropes of magic. Her abilities— quite like his own and rapidly increasing— needed honing and Frigga thought it best to learn from him. She wasn’t going to complain— she had become quite close with him in the months beforehand. Now, though, it’s different.
Very different.
Loki is a very— erm— hands on teacher.
She moans against the hand— the heavy, invisible, warm force that is entirely Loki but also entirely not— against her lips and he tsks, a teasing smile on his luscious lips. “Patience, dove. That’s the key to control. You must be patient.”
She balls her hands at her sides, pressing her lips together as she stares up at her teacher. In turn he meets her gaze, his real, physical hands resting neatly beside her head, caging her against the stone and shielding her body from anyone who may be passing by. She wants to complain— to grab those magic fingers she knows he has and shove them inside her. But he’s right. Frustratingly so. She knows the wait is worth it.
He leans down, nose brushing against her face, lips grazing her cheek so lightly she could scream. His breath is hot against her face, fanning her skin with his frosted lemon scent. It takes everything in her to keep her eyes on his and not rolling into the back of her head.
“Are you going to be patient?” He murmurs, nipping at her ear.
She doesn’t answer— she doesn’t nod like she knows he’s expecting. No one said she was an obedient student. When he pulls back she gives him what she hopes is a deadpan look— I can’t answer if you’re not going to let me talk. He sighs, rolling his crystal eyes, but the traces of his mischievous grin lingers and he snaps his fingers anyway. With a gasp the invisible hand over her mouth falls away, her lips meeting the cool garden air.
She smiles up at him, head cocking. “Maybe.”
The pressure on her stomach increases, ghostly fingers tapping on the soft skin below her waistband, just above where she aches for his touch. She scrunches her nose, swallowing the newest moan but holding her smile. His face remains calm, his lips inches from her own and twisted cruelly. She won’t win this— she already knows that— but she’ll try.
He leans down, letting his mouth wisp over her, smiling when he hears her tiny mewls. “You never learn, do you? What am I going to do with you, hmm?”
She grits her teeth, trying to shift her hips upwards towards the fingers but— like freakin’ magic— they move with her, remaining the same inch from where she needs him. It makes her throb harder, knowing that he’s right there.
“Keep teaching me?” She squeaks, voice airy— both from her attempts at teasing the trickster god back and from how pent up she’s beginning to feel.
He chuckles and it sounds like sex itself— sultry and easy and fun. “Oh you would like that, wouldn’t you dove?”
She nods furiously, sighing when his fingers— his real ones— wisp down her cheek, drawing over her neck before curling loosely around her throat. His thumb presses against the side of her neck, no doubt testing her response— her willingness. She— as always— presses back. Challenging him. Trusting him.
“Yes.” She breathes— whiney and hot— when she catches the flick of his brow.
She’s rewarded with the first touch of his magic, invisible fingers swiping through her folds, pulling a tiny gasp from her lips as sparks dance across her skin. She can taste them on her tongue, metallic and citrusy— completely him despite the fact that when he does it again, fingers circling her clit, she can feel her own magic in her fingertips.
This time when she pushes her hips up she isn’t met with resistance, only the skillful swirling of Loki’s energy against her and his amused, soft laughs. His hand around her throat pushes harder, steering her to let her head fall back against the wall while his other hand twists beside her cheek. He’s doing something and if she weren’t so lost in his ministrations— the hazy feeling clouding her head and the building pleasure in her squeezing core— then she would ask; what are you doing—
“Oh my— Loki—” She gasps as two magic fingers push inside her, pumping in and out so slowly she wonders at first if she's imagining it but— no— they’re definitely there.
“See what you can do with a little focus?” The god teases her, blue eyes electrified and dancing to her open mouth, fingers— flesh ones— pressing against her bottom lip.
She wastes no time wrapping her lips around them, bringing them into her mouth and sucking. He tilts his head at her when she swirls her tongue, brows drawing together, fingers pumping harder into her core, brushing the spot that has her seeing stars. When she moans around his fingers he blinks— the magic stopping and leaving nothing but a buzzing, fluttering between her thighs.
She goes to whine, nose scrunching again, but he beats her to it. “Patience, remember? It’s about control, dove.”
She understands the concept— she understands she has to focus and be patient— she just doesn’t want to do any of it. She doesn’t want control. Not now when her clit is aching and his fingers— fingers, magic, whatever— feel like the only thing that can make it go away. She just wants to cum. And she hopes he can see that when she pushes against his grip, pulling her lips from his fingers and pouting.
“Please Loki.” She bats her lashes at him, the waning of her pleasure making her fingers spark slightly in annoyance. “Need you so bad.”
His lips turn up again— that cruel twist of pretty flesh— and he blinks— again— and suddenly he’s back, fingers circling her bud and fingers pumping in and out of her at that steady, agonizing rhythm. He twists them, brushing her walls and drawing a little mewl from her lips. It should be concerning how fast she falls back into the pleasure— how quickly it builds up again— but she can’t think too hard about it when he’s curling his digits so wonderfully into her heat.
Still— despite the wonder it’s still too slow. The pleasure is all around her, consuming her bones and making her thighs shake, but she only teeters on the edge. If he keeps it up she will cum— she isn’t worried about that part— but she wants it now. She wants to fall off the edge and she wants him to push her.
She bucks her hips against his hand, brows pushing together and voice a mere whimper. “Faster— please, please, please faster!”
He only smiles and— “No Loki! don’t you dare—” Blinks.
When the hands disappear her tongue bursts with all the stored energy in her body once more. This time it doesn’t just taste like lemons it tastes like fire— like anger and passion and the throbbing ache of her damn core— and she could cry, tears pushing at her eyelids from how damn close she is. Her whole body feels like a live wire, humming with the memory of his touch. She wants to scowl at him— to lash out— but his blue eyes are too deep and she’s too weak to every little spark of pride.
“You’re doing so good for me. So so good—” This time it's his real hand— his warm, solid, completely him hand— that pushes past the waistband of her pants, long fingers pressing against her clit and sending an oversensitive jolt racing up her spine— “I think you’ve learned today’s lesson, don’t you dove?”
She can’t answer; she can only raise her hips, so desperate to feel him inside her that her own magic pulses at her palms, slamming into the stone behind her and making it rumble slightly. She blinks at the rush, her core throbbing with the new ebb and flow of her magic. It is that very moment which Loki sinks his fingers back into her, stroking the spot that seems to call his name. Her back arches off the wall, fingers biting into the stone and taking off chunks as she finally is brought back to the edge. Her body pulses under his touch and her power, vision spinning as she finds those blue eyes again. She’s so damn close—
“Let go for me.”
His words and the pleased, awed look in his eyes is all it takes for her to fall, core clenching around his fingers as her orgasm bursts behind her eyes. The power of it is unlike anything she’s ever felt— both at her hands and his— and if she weren't so blissed out she would roll her eyes at him for being right all the damn time. Stupid wonderful god with magic hands. Faintly, amidst the pleasure erupting in her stomach, she registers that there’s a green haze to her climax, tinting her surroundings the same jade as his shirt.
Always one for theatrics.
He doesn’t stop twisting his fingers until she's wrapping her hands around his wrists, legs trembling and blood more molasses than anything as she pulls him from her heat. He watches her closely, his own chest heaving, and, in a move bolder than she would normally enact, she brings his fingers— the very same ones that were just buried inside her— to her lips, slowly licking them clean of her. He tenses, eyes darkening, and she feels like the cat who got the cream— literally. He deserves it, she tells herself when she sees his other hand clench at his side, composure waning. Take that for being such a tease.
When she’s done she lets his hand drop, clicking her fingers and rearranging her disrupted clothes. She giggles when his jaw drops, dark brows furrowing. She does it again— snap— and moans gently at the feeling of her hair gently weaving itself back to it’s prior composed state. She passes him a coy smile.
“Control was never the issue.” She simpers, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to the gods throat. “But maybe I’ll need another lesson in patience soon.”
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withoneheadlight · 3 years
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ok i saw this cap of zoë kravitz in hf and she's got such a dreamy expression, she looks so deeply self-absorbed and infatuated by whatever she's imagining and those lines. and i couldn't stop picturing billy exactly like that for days so,
,
There’s a pretty unusual sound coming off the house when Max comes back home, that summer afternoon.
Full volume. Walls shaking. And she quietly walks to the source of the sound, holding back her breath right in front of Billy's room because, there's this second sound? Stranger and way more unsettling and Max's not sure-sure at first but then Steve Perry’s voice takes off and Billy’s follows it and then he's like, singing along and. Well. Max did know Billy liked Journey but not like, their 'stuff for pussies' but uhm, he does, apparently. Rasps his voice all the way through ‘Faithfully’. Kind of, sighs. Longingly? When it ends? But pfff, ok, big brothers are weird. Definitely weirder after being possessed and then kind of resurrected. Even if it's in a good-weird way but, whatever. So Max's just about to sneak to her room, dutifully rolling her eyes, steps muffled by the first chords of 'Edge of the blade' when―
Click. Click. Billy stops the tape. Click. Takes it out. Tap. Tap. Click. Puts on― Billy puts. On,
Heaven.
Bryan Adams’ Heaven.
And Max―
Being a younger sister is a meticulous kind of full-time, private detective job. You gotta learn how the person you’ve been watching so carefully for years and years works. Hafta develop some sort of―sense about your target. And Billy’s been—un-Billy-like? These past two months. Smiling more. Telling more jokes. Playing ‘You shook me all night long’ in a loop on their drive to school and back, not complaining at all but even joining when’s Max who can’t help but sing along so.
So. She retraces her steps. Knocks. Takes the distracted grunt she gets as a ‘Yeahyeah, c’mon in c’mon in’ and,
Creak. Creak. ‘―baby you’re all that I want’
“Billy?”
Billy’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. Radio close to his knees. Cassettes scattered everywhere. Piles and piles of breakwater surrounding Billy’s old, rusty beacon of sound. He’s reading through the song-list of one of the tapes, a smoke locked on the corner of his mouth, bouncing up and down with every little, absent suck he takes, and he looks. He looks―
Self-absorbed and even. Relaxed. Happy. Like whatever he’s thinking about right now is actually carrying his thoughts away to fucking heaven.
“Ehh”
“Uh-hu?”
‘When you’re lying here in my arms!’
“Billy are you. What―” ‘I'm findin' it hard to believe. We're in heaven’ “What are you doing?”
But there’s this orbit around the sun and then there’s whatever one Billy's been spinning along with the last couple of months so he completely ignores her question. Shakes the tape on his left hand. Picks another one from the pile on his right. Asks her.
“Is Billy Ocean too much? ‘Cause I think it’s too much. But it kind of fits into what I'm trying to say so” he says, shrugs, looking up at Max and waiting for the answer of what she realizes was not really a question. Not at all. So she does her little sister job and just, nods “Right. That’s good. I think it’ll slide just nicely into Bruce Springsteen and―”
“Billy” Max insists, waiting for the charm of the third time to work. It doesn’t. Not really. But keeps Billy's eyes on her long enough to squeeze an “A mixtape?” And, uh. That’s what gets it on. The charm “Are you making a mixtape?”
“Uh?”
And it’s like Max just shook Billy out of a daydream. Ash plopping down from his cigarette as his lips try but can’t purse and Max― she’s good. She’s stellar at this detective thing. Recognizes an opening the moment she sees it, right there in front of her, frozen in the middle of shaking Billy Ocean and Bruce Springsteen in the air right before cocktailing them together. Shaken, not stirred, please. Max’s upgraded to James Bond-level just right now.
“You’re making a mixtape for someone”
“Oh-nonoMaxi―”
“But you didn’t have those tapes before. Not even in your secret stash”
“How do yo―?”
“Holy. ShIT. You’ve been listening to somebody else’s music” This is. Oh, God. This. Is. GOLD. Max gotta take a moment. Blink. Breathe. Process. Her hands move by themselves, palms spread toward Billy in a wait-a-minute kind of gesture except. Max’s gonna need way more than a minute for this “You’ve accepted a music recommendation”
“Maaaaax”
“Gosh, you’ve even listened to the tapes enough to. Make―”
“Max!”
“I just can’t believe it”
And Max was glad. Well. As glad as one can be. Bunch weeks ago. Her mom and Neil out for the day. Coming back home a little earlier than she usually does to hear those ugh. Those other noises. Happy screams. Again. After months and months of Billy being basically alone except for her and the party and Steve. And Max’s so glad, of course she is. But she’s also a little sister. And all this investigation work has a high, rightful purpose.
Make her big brother’s life a living. Hell.
“Oh my god, you must be so gone!” Max brings her hands to her mouth. Takes a deep, deep breath that’s more a poorly restrained giggle. Shoots her index at him “Is it Bon Jovi? What I’m seeing right there? Goddam, Billy are you in lo―”
Bam.
Bam. Bam!
The front door.
What a way to spoil the fun. Max doesn’t have time for this. She’s working.
“BILLY?” comes a voice from the other side “Billy are you in there?”
Steve.
Oh.
What a way to make the fun a hundred times better.
Bam.Bam.Bam!
She’s starting to move to get to the door, sinsonging “Well, I guess Steve’s gonna find out you’re so stupid in love you’re willingly listening to―” when she realizes Billy’s eyes have widened and he’s jerkingly trying to unfreeze, he’s mumbling something in around his already extinguished cigarette in the ways of “Can’t” and “Find out” and “Surprise” and “Fucking help me!” While literally trying to shove the huge mass of tapes under his bed, his tone like hurryhurryhurry!, like he would start gagging and throwing his lungs out at any given minute, so nervous he looks.
So Max doesn’t go for the door. Yet. She basks in the enjoyment.
“Oh, is it a secret romance or something?” She sighs happily, leaning against the doorframe instead. “‘Cause you look pretty worried”
Steve’s banging the door now, voice wavering a little as he asks-shouts “Billy? Billy answer me! Hey, bab―Are you ok?”
“Max, please” Billy begs. Begs. Crawling over to where a Madonna’s Like a virgin is laying with the tape looping slightly out “He really can’t find out”
“What? That you’re in lo-o-oh-oh-OH―”
Billy stops at the tone, right there on his knees. Spits his forgotten cig to the side. And in the instant it seems to take him to make up his mind they both can hear Steve shout “Ok. I know you’re in there!. I’m coming in now!!”
“Fuck! Yeah. I am. Ok?” he looks like he just realized he’s tripped. Blushes. “Making it, I mean”
BAM!
And Ohhhhhhh.
Zero-fucking-zero-fucking-seven.
“Steve,” Max gasps. Because. Hear it makes it like. Easier. To process “You. And Steve”
B A M!
“Yeah, Max, Yeah. And this is a fucking surprise and he’s gonna―”
‘I've been waitin' for so long. For somethin' to arrive. For love to come along’
Ok. Oh. Okok.
“Door!” Max hastens him.
“What?”
“You. Door. Run!” She commands, and Billy― sometimes Max can’t honestly understand how he's got the grades he's got, because Billy blinks, looks clueless “C’mon slow ass. Hurry! I’ll hide all this shit”
And Billy finally gets it. Nods. Slow. Then fast. Stumbles up. Literally runs, to get to the door.
Max still gets to hear his labored “Fuck, pretty boy. “That was really hardcore of you. That's how bad you wanted to see me?” And Steve's own breathless “Really?” Before pushing Billy's room door close with her back, and kneeling on the floor to check for stray, incriminating cassettes.
Pretty boy. Maybe Max isn't as clever as she thought she is. Or hasn’t been doing her job right, clearly.
It's when she’s making ‘It’s a kind of magic’ disappear into the rest of the pile that she lays eyes on it. The case. The J-card written almost all the way down to the B-side already. A mixture of songs Billy's heard so many times there are parts where his tapes screech, and others she'd bet her life he wouldn’t have deigned to listen to. Not ever. Definitely not because―no, for, somebody. Bowie and Cher and Cindy Lauper and Bob Seger right next to Metallica and Guns n' Roses and Meatloaf and― there. There. Almost hidden in the back of the spine. A note. A tiny, thin-lettered thing Max really, really shouldn't be reading but―
‘Thanks for driving me back.
Love. Billy’
But. That's what little sisters do too, she guesses. Intrude. Annoy. Snoop. Feel this sudden rush of relief. Of happiness. When Billy laughs softly, on the other side of the door. When Steve laughs back. Maybe a tear. Or two. But just maybe. She’s really good at this little sister thing, after all.
Hopes for stellar.
,
or: that post s3 where steve lets a camaro-less billy drive him around in his own car "really? again, hargrove?" almost every single day, for months, after he comes back, because "you’re gonna perpetually stick yourself to my ass at least let me do the one thing that frikin’ calms me down" which results in steve resigning himself to deejaying in the shotgun even if "jesus, what's that shit, harrington?" "my car, my rules, sweetheart" which results in billy developing a ‘songs steve harrington is in love with’ mental playlist, realizing he’s probably a little bit in love with the way he loves them and, possibly, a little much love with steve and then stealing steve's tapes one day and,
making a mixtape about it.
(the first of a whole lot, of love letters)
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heresathreebee · 3 years
Text
That G-D Ring of Yours
High Fidelity’s Robyn Brooks X Female reader
Summary: You seek comfort from your neighbor Rob
Masterlist
There's probably gonna be a part 2
Word count: 2.5k words
Warning(s): +15 | implied cheating, internalized homophobia, heterosexism, author and Rob swearing, no hate to polyamorists but major hate to bad faith players, shameless self insert, no beta, barely edited, long as fuck I'm so sorry
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Author's note: I'm having anxiety for no discernable reason and my brain has decided this is ideal fuel for a fic, so please enjoy. EDIT: ha ha yeah still anxious but we're doing stuff about it
-------------------------------------------------------
"-- And she just touched my hand by accident and I just felt this–  this spark between us…" 
It was so sweet how he was talking about it. Or at least it would be were this not your fiancé explaining how he had been seeing another person behind your back. Had you rushed into things with him? Gotten hitched after three months because of familial pressure to settle down and start your family? Quite possibly.
But it didn't make that stabbing in your gut hurt any less. 
You had been a little gung-ho from date number 1, but he had been right there with you the whole time. Date number 2 happened the following weekend and then you just kept seeing each other more and more until before you knew it you had been introduced to each other's extended families and announced your engagement on Valentine's Day. 
You started to suspect something was amiss on Sunday, when you were braiding your hair on the bed and he had gone to take a shower. He accidentally set his phone screen aside with a text chat still open. Thinking nothing of it (he had already told you he was talking to Mark about getting drinks tonight), you looked at the name and saw it belonged to a woman you had never heard of before. Your immediate reaction was 'she must be a new coworker or a cousin,' but then you glanced again and saw the text conversation mirrored the same kind of ‘sentiments’ he texts you. 
The dirt burned into your brain for eternity: 
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You had looked away then. You were actually not going to say anything at all to him that night– had planned to bring it up after Tuesday dinner with your auntie's family, but something came up. It turns out that Jessabelle also frequented the same Starbucks as you (and she's your age, not a teen like you worried). You can't even find it in you to be mad at her since it seemed like she had no idea who you were when she showed you the picture of her date at a baseball game. You tried not to puke as you asked for her number and to send her that picture "for her contact profile." 
You hadn't heard a word your fiance had said since the beginning of the phone call and you cut him off with some excuse you barely remember. You tossed your phone carelessly onto the couch and laid back on the cushions in defeat. What now? 
You weren't really a drinker or a smoker, and you didn't exactly have friends who would be supportive right now. You could hear them now, your family too– asking you what you did wrong, telling you to just forgive him or how to get even, or simply saying 'well what do you expect? Boys will be boys.' 
Maybe… no, you definitely need to get this off your chest before you do something stupid like pretend to forget about it. You had a bad habit of that because you tend to fall fast and hard. Perhaps your neighbor could give you some advice. 
Thank the Lord for fire escapes. Rob lived on the floor beneath you, always playing something good from her huge collection of vinyl records. You've told her at least a hundred times before if she played nothing but Phil Collins for the rest of eternity, you could die happy. You crossed your fingers and hoped you weren't being weird or invading her privacy. 
Thankfully, she seemed to be expecting you. She even motioned that the latch was undone and waved you inside. Ok the second wine glass made your face grow hot. 
"I'm not interrupting am I?" 
Rob gave you a warm smile. "I could hear you pacing around your kitchen for about an hour. Was about to come and get you actually." 
She pressed the glass into your hand and you made an effort not to grimace. Rob liked her drinks cheap and strong and she never held back. You tried a sip just to be polite, and she snorted at the face you pulled. 
"That's right, you like that sweet stuff. What's it called again?" 
"Stella Rosa," you mumbled, grateful when she takes the glass back and hands you a water to replace it. 
"Favorite flavor," she asked looking at her phone. 
"Uh… the peach and the rosé. They're all pretty good, not gonna lie." 
"OK, take this, grab a blanket from the hall closet, and tell me what's going on." 
You curled up on Rob's couch and put your feet up. There were piles of records all over the place, empty beer cans and a pizza box or two on the coffee table. Your neighbor tapped away at her phone screen before silencing it and slipping it in her back pocket. She gave you a minute or two to speak up, sipping her drink like you two had all night. Which actually you did as you did not want to see your fiancé right now. 
You felt two fingers gently tap your forehead. "Come on, dreamer, tell me what's going on in that head of yours." 
You swallow the lump in your throat. "I feel a little over dramatic saying my life is about to fall apart." 
Rob raised her eyebrows at you. "Damn, OK." 
You rush to correct yourself– explain your weird sentiment in more detail but you end up just vomiting words until your voice is hoarse. 
"I mean– like– like it's not falling apart per say or whatever– I… the rest of my life is fine its just my relationship that's screwed. Which I guess I'm more worried about because it's gonna screw up all my other relationships for a while too– dang it, let me start over–" 
"Babe! Slow down. Breathe." Rob switched drinks with you and against your better judgement you took a sip. Oddly enough it did calm you down. "So… it's your fiancé, right? What did he do?" 
You stared at her trying to unscramble your thoughts. "He… I found out he was kind of... dating another person. After I found out, he tried to explain that he didn't think I would mind–" 
Rob barked, "let me guess: he didn't think you were exclusive? Pull the Main Chick, Side Chick schtick? Tried to claim 'polyamory' after he got caught?" 
Two and two clicked together at last. "Yeah… yeah, he did!," you scoffed, "and it's not like it didn't ever come up in conversation: we spent our third date talking out our, like, sexualities and fantasies and fetishes and shit. If he was polyamorous, wh- why wouldn't he have brought it up then?" 
"That is so fucked." 
You took a deeper draft of her wine, coughing before setting it aside. Up until now, you've been numb. Now there's this wave of anger boiling up to the surface and you hear yourself getting louder. Rob doesn't flinch but she does give you this look of empathy unlike anything you've seen before. 
"If he– if he would have just asked me, I would have told him it was fine. My family does shit like that all the time: nobody bats an eye! If he really thought I wouldn't mind, he wouldn't have been so freaking sneaky about it. He literally lied, Robyn!" 
You whipped around and for a brief moment you knew you looked crazy. "He said he was going out for drinks with his guy friend, but he was making plans to go to a baseball game with a girl I've never heard of! If he really thought I wouldn't mind, or if he 'thought I would understand,' then why would go out of his way to lie about who he was with?" 
Someone buzzed Rob's door and she left you on the couch momentarily, coming back quickly with two bottles of your favorite wine. "Damn girl, these are kinda bougie: Peach or Rosé?" 
"I--"you choked, "Robyn you didn't have to–" 
"Peach it is!" She unscrewed the caps and handed you the whole freaking bottle of white, downing the last of her merlot and getting a fresh glass for you. 
You felt a little guilty she had spent money on you. But then again it had been her choice. If she didn't want you there, Rob wouldn't have let you in in the first place. Maybe you were just a tinsy bit worried you shouldn't be here. 
You and Rob took a break from talking to put on music and get a little tipsy. It came much easier with the help of the Stella Rosa, though Rob initially complained it was 5.5%, she did get accustomed to the sweetness pretty fast, and after consuming half the bottle, realized it was a little easier to get carried away with a drink like this. She admitted it was her first time trying rosé and now she was hooked. Eventually you started talking again, just spilling your guts out with no filter anymore. 
"I really think I just hate myself," you said cuddling the cool glassware. "When I found out, I wasn't even thinking of it as a betrayal of my trust– it felt like I was trying to come to terms with it so I could continue with the relationship. Not because it would make me happy but because… I don't know… it's what everybody else wants me to do. They don't even know about it and I was fully prepared not to tell them even though they'd want me to marry him whether they knew or not." 
Rob barked a laugh of surprise. "Doh-K!" 
"What?" 
"Nothing, nothing…" she said, "keep going." 
You stared off into the middle distance and leaned into her side. She was a tiny bit warm despite her lithe figure. Made you want to throw your blanket over her shoulders and share your greater warmth. 
So you did (you're not great at acting out your desires but this is nice!)
"It's just easier," the words left your mouth unbidden, "I don't even know what that means, but it's true. I don't want to marry him anymore but I don't want to break it off. Not marrying Fiancé means disappointing my family. It means having to find an entire new man to marry sooner rather than later because I'm already 'behind' and lowering my already low expectations. 
"It's not gonna make me happy, but I just think it's easier to keep this wedding going because at least I won't have to find somebody new who might not be as good for me just because I didn't want him. Another man won't make me happy so there's no reason to drop him... except that I don't want him." 
Rob's brow furrowed. "Are you saying it's easier for you to please your family than it is to be happy?" 
"Yes? I– no, I– … I don't know," you sigh. "I guess you could say my priorities are a little… mismanaged." 
"Sure, you could say that." Rob wrapped her arms around your shoulders and you inhaled the scent of her soap and cigarettes. "What if you tried… like… not doing that anymore...? You just said you do whatever your family wants you to do. So, just like do what makes you happy for a change." 
It really does sound so simple the way she puts it, doesn't it? Why are you doing this to yourself? You're not dependent on them for money or security or happiness for that matter. So... why has your whole life been centered around pleasing them? 
"I think… I think I've never really sat down and thought about what makes me happy," you admitted. "I think it's just been that way forever and I might have been too scared to try anything else." 
Rob hummed. "Are you still scared now?" 
Are you? You look into her eyes and ask yourself a question that has never crossed your mind with such depth. You used to be scared– but what is it about your happiness that you are so afraid of? OK, let’s start a little simpler: what are things that make you happy? 
“I like…” you swallowed, trying to break down the barriers you’ve built years and years ago. “I like… coffee. I like… short skirts. I like… girls– I like… my job. I like… music. I think I’d enjoy camping, you know, some day…” 
Your words… these things seemed so arbitrary and trivial. But in your house, these things cause dissent. “My family has an opinion about everything. There’s no right way to live in all of their eyes, but I think I figured out a way to get past it. Keep my head down and do what’s expected of me. Graduate college, get a respectable job, find a man to marry, drop the job and become a mother. Just… don’t make waves. It seemed better because the cousins who didn’t or couldn’t… well they became the butt of every joke at the family dinner. Lisa had one miscarriage so she was a ‘failure’ and Don never dated girls so he was gay and that was ‘bad,’ but grandma Zelda did everything a good Christian woman could do and they still gossiped about her behind her back… 
“And I just… I just let their ignorance control me for my entire life.” God, you could cry right now, but somehow it just felt too good to say it outloud. “That.. that is so fucked.” 
Robyn snorted, and you turned to her as if you’d forgotten she was there. There it was again, that sympathy. Not pity, she did not burden you with tears of her own or try to be angry for you. She just listened and understood. You twisted the diamond encrusted ring on your finger and stared at her. You felt it, that feeling in your heart. No one else had given you that look, like she could really see you. 
“You’re not going back to Fiancé, are you?” Her question was equal parts worrisome and hopeful and you already knew the answer in your heart. 
“No.”
And that was it. Decision made. Actually easier than you'd thought. Maybe not down the road but it felt good for now. There's the telling your fiancé it's over, the moving out, the public announcement, the inevitable feeling of failure, your family, god, his family too. Untangling your lives would be long and hard. You're not sure if you have that level of commitment and motivation in you but fuck it. Problems for tomorrow.
You rest your head on Rob's shoulder and hope your not pushing any boundaries. She doesn't stop you though, in fact she snuggles you deeper into her. You get the feeling she's been here before though your not sure which side or how bad it was for her.
"I like you way more in the few times I've met you than any man I've ever dated," you heard yourself say. "I'm sure that means something but I'm too tired to decide anymore. No tonight at least."
Rob chuckled. "I like you too, sugar."
If you made it this far, hi 💛 appreciate you, leave me a comment! Or just comment "💛"
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nikanndros · 3 years
Note
I just want you to know that I think about From Eden at least once a week and I've lost count of how many times I've reread it. If you ever wanna share what comes next amd what other ideas you had for that universe i'm here to listen op 👀
Thank you, I love you! When I first wrote that fic, I had two other parts (at least) that I wanted to go with it, and since they’re partially written I’m happy to share those bits with you:
From Eden Part 2
“It’s just unfair, you know,” the girl said. Her words were slightly slurred. To be fair, they were in a nightclub after midnight. Everyone was slurring. “I was there for him, and I paid his bills while he went through college and now! He has a real job and he dumped me for his secretary.” She started sobbing.
Damen, who was six foot three, strongly built, and also carrying a loaded weapon, took her hands and made a sympathetic noise. “Lykaios,” he said, because he --unlike Laurent-- had actually listened when she’d introduced herself. “I think the best thing for you now is to forget about him. He didn’t deserve you.”
Lykaios sniffled. “You think so?”
“Of course I do,” Damen said. “I’ve only known you for a few minutes and I already can see that you’re incredible. Right, babe?”
“Right,” Laurent deadpanned. He glanced at his watch. “It’s quarter to.”
Damen nodded. Still holding Lykaios’ hands, he turned to Laurent. “Security?”
“Just the two.”
“Great.” He looked back to Lykaois. “Listen, doll, we’ve got to get down to business, but I want you to remember what I said, okay? You’re worth a lot more than that guy gave you.  And your mascara is running a little. Maybe you should go fix it up in the bathroom and wipe your tears?”
“Okay,” Lykaois sniffed. “Thank you.” She left.
Damen gave Laurent a grin, the crooked, teeth-baring one that appeared whenever they were about to do a job. “Ready?”
“You never call me doll.”
“Do you want me to?”
“Try it sometime and see.”
Damen yanked him in by the jacket and kissed him, slowly and bordering on indecent. “Alright,” he said, after he pulled back. “Show time.”
As Damen disappeared into the crowd, Laurent grasped his --still full-- drink, turned, and threw its contents at the roughest looking guy in the place.
“Hey, what the hell?” The guy squared his shoulders; he was intimidating even covered in lemonade.
“Fuck you,” Laurent replied. 
At this point, three months of travelling and stealing and, most importantly, Damen, Laurent had become pretty efficient at inciting fights. He didn’t need to see the punch coming to know that it was, he just sidestepped and let the man stumble into the back of another patron. It took less than thirty seconds before half the clientele were involved in an all out brawl.
The two security guards rushed in, and were immediately overwhelmed enough that the only bartender -- a youngish lad with a crooked nose -- had to join in to get everything under control. Laurent punched him.
Eventually, the fight got calmed down enough for fingers to point to Laurent and the lemonade clad man as the inciters, and guards hauled them both out into the parking lot.
“Let me go!” Lemonade guy yelled. “I’ll fucking kill him.”
“You can try,” Laurent said, a lot more willing to be subdued by the guard that had him by the arms.
“Don’t make us call the police, man,” his guard complained. “The both of you can go your separate ways, come on.”
The door behind them opened. 
“Sweetheart,” Damen said, chidingly. “I step away for two minutes and you get yourself into trouble.”
---
They go back to a motel after this and Damen reveals the money he stole from the tills while Laurent was being a distraction. Sexy times ensue. Damen eventually falls asleep and Laurent stays awake with the tv on. The news comes on and an interview is shown with Lykaios being interviewed about the robbery at the bar -- she gives a completely inaccurate description of what Damen looked like, and Laurent reflects on how easy it is for Damen to charm people to taking his side.
From Eden Part 3
Their most recent car was a much older model. The aircon was busted and they had to wind down the windows themselves, but at least the radio worked. It was hot, despite it being a couple of hours past sunset. 
Damen was singing with the radio. He wasn’t going to win any awards, but his voice was deep and he had a nice enough sense of the music. He grinned at Laurent. He was always happy. It was part of what made him so magnetic. 
Laurent smiled back. After two years with Damen, the expression felt natural.
Except for them, the road was empty. Damen reached over and took Laurent’s hand in his. 
“Watch the road,” Laurent said.
Damen laughed. “But you’re my favourite view.”
“I won’t be happy if you kill us in a car wreck.”
Obediently, Damen looked back to the road. And then, because it was Damen, the car sped up.
Laurent’s hair flew about chaotically, longer than it had ever been when his uncle had been keeping a hand of Laurent’s appearance. It needed a trim, but as much as Laurent trusted Damen, he didn’t trust him to do that. Damen had offered to take him to a salon, somewhere quiet where there was no chance he’d be recognised, but Laurent wasn’t fond of the idea of being trapped in a chair like that. He was too used to freedom by now.
-
“Left here,” Laurent instructed.
They’d had to slow down once the got near the town. It was best to avoid anyone’s attention for as long as possible. (An admittedly difficult feat when traveling with someone like Damen).
They drove a little way past the house, until they found an obscure little dirt road to park down. It wouldn’t do for someone to see the car. They grabbed their things, and looped back to the house on foot.
Quietly, Damen was still singing. 
“Stop it,” Laurent said.
“You love it,” he replied. “This is your birthday present, baby, at least look like you’re having fun.”
“This is literally the worst place we could get caught.”
“No it isn’t,” Damen replied. “I checked out the police station last time I was here. Breaking out of the cells would be too easy.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“There were no lights on when we drove by. No one is home.”
That was true. And they’d timed it perfectly, assuming schedules hadn’t changed in the last two years. The house was silent when they got to it, not a light in sight as promised.
Laurent took a deep breath.
“Chin up,” Damen said. “Let’s go rob your uncle.”
-
The spare key wasn’t where uncle used to keep it, so they went around the back and Damen fucked with the lock until it opened. It was almost hard to walk into the house, full of so many bad memories, except it had never truly been Laurent’s home and he could just tell himself this was another job. 
“The study,” Laurent said, leading the way.
They crept up the stairs together, torches on their lowest settings.
The study was a formidable room with the big, mahogany desk, and the shelves of books that existed solely to make visitors feel stupid. “Look at this,” Laurent said, pulling out one of the books. “War and Peace in Russian. He doesn’t even know Russian.”
Damen reached past him, and nonchalantly, tipped a stack of books off the shelf. They clattered noisily onto the floor. “Oops,” Damen said. He turned away. “Where’s the safe?”
“Under the desk,” Laurent replied. He was busy searching through the books, finding any early editions to pilfer. They’d probably be able to sell them to an antique store for a bit of quick cash. 
Damen worked away at the safe for a bit, guessing potential codes Laurent had told him about. “None of these are working, sweetheart.” The safe made a beeping noise. “Oh, wait. Got it. Wow, he really deserves to be robbed.”
“I’m sure he thought I’d never come back here.”
Damen made a vaguely angry noise. He didn’t like reminders of what had happened to Laurent in this house. He’d even tried to convince Laurent that they could just murder his uncle while they were here. Laurent wasn’t sure he wanted to add cold-blooded murder to their repertoire just yet though. However tempting.
Damen stood up, suddenly. Hands full of Laurent’s uncle’s emergency cash. He grinned.
“Happy birthday - to - you,” he crooned.
Laurent couldn’t help it. He laughed. “I love you, you beautiful fucking bastard.” 
Abandoning the books, Laurent moved in and kissed him. Carefully, Damen put the money down on the desk so that he could cup Laurent’s face in his hands. It was always intoxicating to kiss Damen. There was something about him that made Laurent forget himself until there was only the press of their lips.
“I love you too,” Damen whispered, pulling back a little. He’d stopped smiling; it was a moment of complete genuine emotion. He did that sometimes, always out of the blue, and it always made Laurent want to clutch him tighter and maybe cry. 
“Let’s finish up here,” Laurent said, “and then we can go find somewhere nice and fuck under the stars.”
“You always know just what to say to seduce me,” Damen said.
They bagged the money, and the books Laurent had picked, and then they made their way down the stairs again.
“Wait,” Damen said.
“What?”
“I’m hungry.” He turned into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Oh hey, chocolate.”
Actually, that was an idea. Laurent followed him into the kitchen and went straight for the pretentious temperature controlled wine fridge. “Pinot noir or Shiraz?”
“Whatever is more expensive,” Damen replied. He was adding strawberries and oranges to the bag as well. Cream?”
“It’ll go warm too fast.”
“I feel like we should unplug the fridge before we go, at least,” Damen added. “If you’re still against me putting bleach in the milk.”
“Wouldn’t that make it curdle?”
Damen shrugged. “I don’t know. I had a cement mixer in a bar once but that was lime juice.”
“You can unplug the fridge. If he dies from food poisoning, that’s on him.”
Damen started to look for the cord to the fridge.
“Wait,” Laurent whispered. “Did you hear that?”
They froze, listening.
There it was. The soft sound of the stairs creaking. Fuck. Silently, Laurent gestured towards the back door. Damen nodded. He was carefully reaching over to the knife stand.
“Renaud?” came a small voice.
A young boy, no more than thirteen, stepped into the kitchen. He was wiping at one eye sleepily in a childlike gesture. Less childlike were the bruises on his arms. Laurent knew he and Damen had matching expressions of horror.
The boy’s eyes widened as he took them in. “Who are you?” he said.
Damen’s expression was one of barely concealed fury. He looked at Laurent. “I’m not leaving until that man is in a shallow grave.”
“Don’t scare the boy,” Laurent admonished. He turned to the child and tried to look as non-intimidating as a late-night home invader could possibly look. “What’s your name?”
“Are you Renaud’s friends?” The boy asked.
“No,” Laurent said. “Definitely not. I’m Laurent.”
The boy was frowning. “You used to live here.” 
“Yes.”
“Well,” he straightened up, suddenly hostile. “You’re not allowed to come back. He doesn’t want you anymore; I’m better.”
“Where are your parents?” Damen asked.
“We’re not giving him back to parents who-”
“They’re dead,” the boy said. He didn’t sound upset.
--
The boy is obviously Nicaise. They hear a car in the driveway and Laurent locks Nicaise in the pantry. Laurent’s protective instinct rears up and he insists they kill the uncle now. Damen is fully down for it. Murder ensues. They let Nicaise out and keep him away from finding out that the uncle is dead in the next room. They tell Nicaise to pack a back and discuss what to do with him. Damen suggests dropping him off at a hospital or somewhere like that where someone can get help for him (since they can’t exactly go to the cops). 
Nicaise overhears and says that he doesn’t want to have a new foster parent; at least his current one has a big house. Laurent hearing that feels too wary to risk Nicaise getting another bad household. Damen is like, well I guess we can keep him if you want??? Laurent agrees. They go get in the car and drive away. 
-
Anyway this AU was directly inspired by the film clip for Hozier’s ‘From Eden’, you should watch it bc that’s the story I intended to write 
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m0e-ru · 3 years
Text
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eight months in somebody actually asked me abt visualive instead of me immediately annoying ppl about it without former notice. I might actually write properly for once 😳😳😳
OK OK!!!!! In this essay I will.... I will.... Visualive Adachi.... Visu/BURSTS INTO TEARS/
OKAY OKAY for real I just care Visualive so much (as someone who can’t fully understand Japanese AHAHA)
First I’ll add some foundation about what Visualive really is, then I talk abt Adachi in the latter parts of it because this is technically the first time I’m properly talking about this hehe 🐿
T....table of contents???
Visualive
Visualive the Evolution
Masami Itou
Visualive Adachi
Visualive the Evolution Adachi
Terms and Legend
VL - Visualive
VLE - Visualive the Evolution
stage - shortened for “stageplay”
面白い - omoshiroi (it’s just that specific)
Yuuya - VL Hero name
Hayato - VLE Hero name
Baba - Hero
Masami - Adachi
Taniguchi - Dojima
Saotome - Daisuke
Mamiya - Izanami
I add honorifics but sometimes I forget the hyphen intentionally or unintentionally I’m sorry if it makes it hard to read lol
all links have automatic timestamps for easy viewing. i mean. i hope the timestamps work
VISUALIVE “Persona 4.” A stage adaptation of SMT: Persona 4 by Atlus. It adapts the first part of the story, from the hero’s arrival to after recovering Mitsuo Kubo from the TV world. It also ends on a cliff hanger, showing a teaser of Shadow Naoto being projected on the screen.
It takes up a speedy recapitulation of the hero’s spring life, before slowing down and showing in depth his school life in summer. A day before Morooka-sensei’s death, there is a little skit with Kou, Daisuke and Adachi. The hero walks into the conversation before the two other boys leaving, and Morooka-sensei walking in on the student and detective. The next day follow’s the teacher’s death and the Investigation Team (IT) begin investigating their new lead.
From the words “visual” and “alive,” the niche of this stage was meant to be the fusion of live acting and visual digital projections. All seen from the stageplay with the colorful cast of actors and CG animations being projected on the screen. This offers an opportunity for characters to summon their personas, perform cool visual effects, change the backdrop, or even confront their own Shadows.
Performed in Sunshine Theater from the 15th to the 20th of March 2012. The screenplay was written and directed by Shintaro Asanuma from the theatrical group “bpm.” The video production produced by Shutaro Oku, a film director and visual planner. He later takes over as director for VISUALIVE THE EVOLUTION, the sequel stage. The stage music was produced by Shunsuke Wada, with a special show exclusive vocal track sung by Shihoko Hirata.
On this note, I haven’t seen any sort of original soundtrack released for any of the stages and I’m SO SAD. The last song in Mitsuo’s boss fight was such a BANGER and literally EVERYTHING ELSE Marvelous, Wadasan please take my MONEY
Regarding the cast, there were some special accommodations for Teddie, Rise, and Nanako, all of which did not have live actors at the time. During the casting, actors for the three characters could not be found or simply left the directors unsatisfied they couldn’t cast anybody. An exception for Rise, who was able to have a live actor in the sequel stage. It has been stated that there weren’t any “pretty boy” actors that fit the “Teddie Criteria.” While there weren’t any child actors that were believed to portray Nanako well.
Teddie was only ever seen in his bear costume while Rise was busy talking through a call, all voiced by their video game cast. Nanako has never appeared on stage, only being scarcely mentioned in the script. Again, this is different in the sequel stage where her role was extremely important and was shown as a screen projection.
VISUALIVE “Persona 4” THE EVOLUTION. A sequel stage. Beginning abruptly in the middle of Shadow Naoto’s boss fight, the story continues from there until the “true end” of the game’s original story. *Certain characters are introduced while others have been reintroduced. And on a personal note, when it’s all comedic in the beginning, it’s all for what’s coming right after.
I don’t know if I’m salty or just find it really funny AHAHA I might go talk abt it some other day with more context ehehe
Performed in The Galaxy Theater from the 3rd to the 9th of October 2012, only a few months after the PSVITA Persona 4 Golden release, which is July 2012. The screenplay was now written by Jun Kumagi while directed by Shutaro Oku. And music production finally taken over by Shoji Meguro himself.
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HAHAHA this is starting to look like a wiki page. moving on. I might start rambling rn
(warning LONG !!!! aaa,,)
My thoughts on the stage adaptations. For the first Visualive (VL) I believe it’s pretty close to canon! I enjoy the characterization and how much love and care was present when handling the entire production.
Actors were busy playing the game itself, wherein a PS2 was present in the practice room. Along with magazines and game guides explaining the game’s story and the characters itself. Actors performing together and even improv acting together to get a grasp of their characters. All of them knowing well of Persona 4 as a well loved game, delicately handling their characters and hopefully performing them right while making the audience happy.
The staff taking care of each other while the director and video producer, Asanuma-san and Oku-san, working together well to make their vision into a reality.
The same thing happened with VL the Evolution (VLE) and literally every other good stage. Except... I feel the script kinda got out of hand with too much liberty where it feels a bit more disconnected from canon. But! It makes up for it in its content, whether comedic or (INCREDIBLY) dramatic! It’s great as its own story at that point. So in this case, I like to take the first VL and get to connect it canon, while I don’t know what the hell happened in VLE to the point I’ll just enjoy it as its own content.
These opinions deserve its own essay, post whatever bc I have SO much to say abt this. ANYWAY. VL ADACHI
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Tohru Adachi is portrayed by Masami Itou (伊藤マサミ), a screenplay writer, director and an stage actor himself. He does have a single character voice role along with a fellow troupe member in the same franchise, but mostly works as the former three. He is part of Asanuma-san’s entertainment group “bpm.” On a similar note, Masashi Taniguchi, Dojima’s actor, was also part of their group from 2011 to 2016, which may explain their good synergy as the boss and the bumbling fool dynamic. I mean, somebody’s gotta get hit in the head every few skits.
With Masami-san being an important part of the cast, he doesn’t appear as often as Taniguchi-san in backstage content like the VL bonus disk or the official blog. Mentioned in his own personal blog, he had been busy with his roles as assistant director (I am assuming also for VL).
Also fun to note, because his role is mainly comic relief, he has been using his liberty to change up the material almost everyday making each performance exciting. This also leaves some other actors jealous of his freedom in his role, such as Saotome-san, Daisuke’s actor.
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VL Adachi really has a... how do I say this? an adorable speech pattern (THE SAME SPEECH PATTERN THAT DROVE ME MAD TRYING TO DECIPHER I THOUGHT YOU WERE A CITY BOY OSSU OSSU MY ASS /shakes you violently/). Overall, he really fits the loose lipped bumbling fool, and his accent really makes him seem more casual and invested. What I’m saying is... VL Adachi either actually has genuine empathy or he actually has more energy to fake it (compared to some other edgelord. i mean you saw my p4ga analysis. I’m sick of him lol ahaha).
One of my favorite ways to explain this (OTHER THAN CHAIR CAR ADVENTURE MY BELOVED WE’LL GET TO THAT LATER) is the rice field scene with him and Dojima. It’s overanalyzation time 🎉
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While investigating, Adachi whines about being tired while Dojima smacks him in the head. In this case, it’s established that Adachi doesn’t want to be there, yes? It’s the country, it’s hot and it smells like green.
"Ah... Dojima-san..! Why don't we take a break? (...) There really is nothing out here... Is the criminal still even here at all? (...) I wonder if I've passed being a rookie yet. Haha, but this city doesn't even have convenient transportation. I can't go to leisure lands (recreation, amusement parks, arcades, ect.) and head home at all."
Adachi then tries to tell Dojima a story. “when I got to this city after being newly assigned, I met an interesting guy (...) Yeah, I remember that the cherry blossoms haven't bloomed yet. So, I was driving my car and got near the station and--” Dojima gets a phone call.
Adachi politely puts his hands down waiting for his boss to finish so he can finish the story. Again and again, Adachi attempts to talk to Dojima about a story he’s so persistent trying to tell someone about. It was so 面白い that he would find someone to talk to about it. Even being polite and patient enough to wait for a chance to speak. He even gets fed up with it and blows up in front of his boss, clearly irritated he’s not given a chance to talk.
Sure, it could be Adachi feeling fed up like a normal person where someone agreed he to listen to him, before being constantly ignored. Or Adachi trying to be a more annoying whiny brat, depending on where you look at it.
If the story wasn’t too “interesting” to Adachi, he would’ve just brushed it off and stopped talking to Dojima entirely, or start up new small talk, or even complain some more. But no, he had a story he wanted to voice out so bad that he got irritated that the one person in the vicinity couldn’t listen to him.
Only after Dojima told him to continue their investigation elsewhere did Adachi finally stop and focus on something else. Maybe that story was for another day, or maybe it was never meant to be told.
What if it was just original (game) Adachi? He’d find a way to squirrel out of the investigation as usual, or push Dojima to “investigate” elsewhere. “Hey boss, don’t you think it’s hot? Why don’t we go elsewhere? We’ve seen this place too many times to count and I doubt anything new’ll turn up. How about we take a break at Junes, y’know? Where it’s cool? C’mon boss,” something like that.
og Adachi is just really annoying and silly to me. Some grown man thinking he can freeload because he never gets anything out of putting in more energy and effort? I don’t care how tall he is, I will smack him in the head.
Yeah VL Adachi whines, too, but at least it doesn’t look like he’s going to escape and waste his time somewhere else. He just sucks it up stops trying to leave the situation.
Or maybe I’m getting this all wrong and VL is exactly the same and my rage just gets dampened because of Masamisan’s execution of character hmm...
SO. What was his story about anyway? The one he really wanted to share to Dojima?
I mean... it’s obvious enough
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First day in town? Spring? Actually mentioned driving a car when literally out of every single persona 4 media at the time was there not a SINGLE mention of Adachi having a car OTHER THAN the same stageplay it’s being mentioned in?
A story, from somewhere around uhh four? five months ago? was something that he remembered so dearly and was willing to share despite it obviously embarrassing him even if he puts the blame on a certain somebody in the same story?
Or maybe it’s because he really had nothing to talk about ever since he realized all his stories from the city weren’t actually that funny or interesting in the first place.
BUT then that would mean out of all the things he could talk about—more whining, complaining, complimenting, small talk—he insisted about talking about this story in particular.
Okay, look. I’m just. Just. As someone who talks too much, of course I have things I actually want people to hear out of all the bullshit that comes out of my mouth. And if the thing I actually want people to listen to doesn’t even get heard, I’d go mad.
Sure, Adachi’d be fine when his complaints or intentionally unfunny jokes get brushed off. But a story of a guy that he thought was so funny, interesting, 面白い gets ignored, he really blew up, even just for a split second, maybe.
And ALL the things that happened in that story—on his first day in Inaba! His car got dented, he had to deal with a weirdo dumbass employee that knew zero personal space, yelled in his ear, who didn’t know how to do their job, got his station reputation messed up on the first day, got his ass grabbed, got (unintentionally?) mocked for his lame stories, and got his car dented for the SECOND time. Probably MORE
And he STILL wanted to talk about it /punches through concrete wall/
yes I’m overthinking about this of course i am
This little tidbit of VL Adachi kinda makes me go insane sometimes—his entire characterization in VL in particular. It was really refreshing to see and how they included both of his characters in it, his facade and how irritated he is of a lot of things underneath. And how flexible his character is immediately working with other characters when there’s sudden improv to balance the situation. Like him and Dojima, Morooka, the attendant, or even Yuuya (hero) himself.
I’ll take Taniguchi-san’s messing around in the VL bonus backstage disc in place of Masami-san being so busy he couldn’t appear in it as often as other characters.
For stagetime that lasted for fifteen minutes or less, my appreciation for VL Adachi, even if he was just comic relief, really rocketed. I say VL, bc Adachi the edgelord he’s supposed to be in literally every other media is something I analyze separately.
I haven’t even gotten to VLE oh my GODDDDD
Like I said, I don’t really regard VLE close to canon but as something to be appreciated for what it is by itself. But the way Adachi was characterized there, in or out of character, still struck me.
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Yes, there was his strange fan-agreed-canon which is,,, now canon obsession with cabbages (not that that’s a bad thing lmao). There was also him being a lot more jumpy and intimate in a clowny way, patting people on the shoulder or even downright hugging them just to mess around. Even FORGETTING who the same goddam loser who grabbed his ass almost a year ago is. But like, can’t blame him they literally changed their actor (and screenplay writer) AHAHAHA
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ha... no more comedy, only dorky sword fights now
(speaking of sword fights I think it’s a fun thought how Mamiya-san [Izanami, also one of the youngest in the cast] admitted it was his first time doing sword fight choreography and even thanked Masami-san and other staff members for guiding him)
One thing unintentionally in character was Adachi accidentally nabbing the sushi overdosed in wasabi. Masami-san didn’t actually account for a joke sushi and didn’t immediately eat it—until Taniguchi-san (who also made Dojima go off his shits compared to VL) jokingly yelled at him and even riled up the audience for him to eat it. He even went off stage to get water just for him to eat the goddam sushi.
And Masami-san did! (kinda choked, but he’s fine).
Continuing from the same scene, while being overly giddy about sushi dinner (and I mean overly--he was singing about it while hopping to the Dojima residence), he tried to remind the two, Dojima and Hayato (hero), that Nanako was sleeping. Probably where she was sick if the scene was translated from the game.
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And... the dramatic parts of VLE
Adachi was the one who reported to the IT that Dojima was chasing Namatame in the rain. While Naoto was discussing Namatame’s journal entries, Adachi, as giddy as he is, took it from Naoto’s hands and reveled in the discovery of evidence so childishly(?). He even ran to Dojima when he began regaining consciousness and immediately called the nurses to help him wheel Dojima to the ER.
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Then, The Hospital Scene™️, right after Nanako flatlines.
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Adachi, who recently walked into the scene, immediately worries about Dojima and IT who were ALL crying. He looks down, devastated—before yelling how Dojima’s heading to Namatame’s room.
He yells in terror and the same grief at his injured boss, all while running past and even jumping over children, who fell to the ground sobbing, to get to him. He continues yelling in a pained fashion while immediately reprimanding Dojima to stop. He gets carried by the collar before being tossed to the ground at Hayato’s feet, all while being pat by the same boy.
Dojima makes his speech about how unfair it is for the ‘killer’ to be alive when his daughter isn’t. When he finally falls to his knees, Adachi rises from the ground, humbly saying he’ll do his best to take care of Dojima (or something like that I’m in tears I literally can’t do VLE’s hospital scene i h8 this). He finally starts crying along with everyone else, being pushed away again but still tries again, trying to usher his boss away from the door.
With the help of the guard in front of the door, they all disappear off stage
please... I know this scene doesn’t need that much translation because of how important this scene is in the entire story. and I know my narratives aren’t enough so just,,,, just watch it please it’s so much more than this. everyone’s acting was just spectacular
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So, after the IT (YOSUKE. JUST YOSUKE. good job Mae-chan) stop themselves from k wording Namatame, it was ADACHI who reported Nanako’s miracle recovery. He ran to the same corridor where they all cried in, even panting and falling to the ground in relief trying to report the good news. Then he pats Hayato on the shoulder and says he’s going to Dojima.
With this... /slaps roof of half of VLE/ ALL of this....adachi.... adachisan.... he Cares™️..... holy shit.....
now. comparing to the game. do you even remember what og Adachi did? did he.. even do anything?????
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NO!!! he just stood there!!!! being a bumbling fool but.... inappropriately!!! man. he didn’t act concerned enough.
adachi: /walks into a bunch of kids crying outside a hospital room/ “lmao why tf are y’all crying? did uhhh what’s her face uhhh nanako. did she d word or something? rip, I guess lol” LIKE????? CAN YOU IMPLY FASTER
and then he’s like “wgat hmm Where’s Dojima-san Heading Because That’s Not The Way To His Room 🤔” and only when he’s asked he actually mentions he’s heading to Namatame’s room and still needs to get choked by a first year for the room number like..... zero consideration
and his boss??? where his daughter he loves so much just??? di*s???? and he’s so devastated he’s doing what he can that very moment while he’s so numbed of thinking of the consequences???? And adachi goes “uhh boss that’s illegal” LIKE. BITCH. /punches through a concrete wall but harder/
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And??? His confrontation scene??? Like, I know they mashed it up w his tv confession scene to save stagetime for other scenes BUT IT WAS SO MMBMBMBMMGN /gestures in a good way/
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UM?? guy behind everything??? in a vulnerable area where he could easily get physically assaulted bc hes not in the tv world w his persona?? Trash talks women like he absolute misogynist he is??? getting yelled at by a bunch of kids and YELLING BACK IN THE SAME AGITATED MANNER even TAUNTING THEM then and there to GET HIS ASS?????
og Adachi was such a pussy he got caught and just scurried off into the TV world where he ended up having powers like...ok....scared of getting beat down by a bunch of highschoolers unless you have powers...ok....
he only taunted them to get him when he was in the tv world too.....he rlly couldn’t say shit in the real world huh... lol
(yeah yeah this shows how VLE Adachi knew abt his TV world powers which would make you think if he ever went into the tv world and came back out alive. Or he’s really just a badass who doesnt give a shit abt anyone’s opinions and CAN beat anyone’s ass. i have a separate thing abt this but bc i like to laught at vle rather than overthink its own lore i might. not. idk lol)
and ??? VLE Adachi can??? He can swordfight??? he doesn’t even NEED a gun—he even reflects bullets w his blade (but apparently he can still get slapped by a flying fan more often than any other attack). His fight choreo was just...so poggers. He’s like short villains done good—like??? he’s short compared to everyone else!!! but he makes up for it for stuffing all the energy inside him while is bursts out making him him the over energetic gremlin he is!!! go VL adachi!!!!
(am I low key making fun of Madono-san in the TUUSH stageplay I’ve seen four minutes of? maybe)
OK!!! Yes I was gushing abt Masami-san again back to Adachi.
It’s portrayed that while not being afraid to admit his crimes, he also goes out of his way to be a bastard and have the gall to get a bunch of kids to fight him, one on eight. He can use a katana, probably a narrative dark reflection of the hero, Hayato which I thought was nice—and he can fight!!! It also shows his persona, yes, but...it doesn’t make it clear if he’s overwhelmed by his Shadow like in the game, where his eyes were yellow and he was emitting a dark aura.
But it gets interesting how he sees he’s getting overwhelmed and starting to lose his edge towards a bunch of kids. He falls to the ground even banging the floor like a whiny brat while literally the IT tries to tell him to turn himself in. Again, like a brat he tells everyone to shut up—before getting incapacitated. While some of the IT rejoice, he bolts up unaccepting of his defeat—before getting hit in the stomach.
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And his words from when he drops his katana, “Why..?” He grabs the foldable chair against his stomach, and with a remorseful look in his eyes, he says “I’m sorry..!”
THEN HE BACKFLIPS—then Hayato slashes him.
In a tone of disbelief, he goes “no way...” and collapses to the ground, being possessed by Ame-no-Sagiri.
Blah blah blah then Teddie rockets himself into the eyeball spy cam and then they both explode aaaaa
Teddie survives but I really don’t know where Adachi went. Not even a mention by Dojima if he turned himself in or was ever found—or I need to review VLE for the 48274827482nd time hehe
WHOO then the whole cast appears for the dance number at the end of show YAHOO
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giorgiastastes · 4 years
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El hoyo (2019)
"The message needs no carrier" (spoiler: it actually does)
"There are 3 kinds of people; the ones above, the ones below, and the ones who fall. "
I've just watched this small masterpieces and here's my own interpretation.
Obviously the whole movie is a big metaphor. Both an analogy about our society and one about the Afterlife are present.
First of all, in my view, the place they're kept into is like a Purgatory between heaven and hell. The protagonist entered there voluntary because after the six months trial he would have expiated his sins and would finally be ready to enter Heaven. The old man is an accidental killer, therefore he doesn't deserve Hell, but definitely can't go into Heaven either, and his punishment is longer than Goreng's because he did in fact end a life.
Also Goreng is referenced multiples times as the Messiah, and his travel towards this purge tower is quite similar to Dante's one.
Each prisoner wakes up the first day of the month in a different position, which represents our birth. Some are born in better environments, families and countries and all of it is just luck, fate.
Then, since everyone knows that each of higher floors will likely take advantage of their position, our selfishness takes the best of us.
The higher floors know that the lower ones will literally eat their leftovers, while the ones under know that they better take as much as they can, otherwise they won't be able to survive. There's no altruism or generosity in the society.
You're placed high, you sh*t on who's below. You're below, you dream to reach above.
Each of the characters represents something.
The first roommate, the old man, is someone who's very aware of their surrounding, who's tired of fighting and knows very well how the world works because he's been in a better as much as a worse situation.
The lady coming from the Administration is a middle class representative, trying to change the world but also completely unaware of what's happening right under her nose.
The fact that she keeps on saying that a baby cannot be there and there are 200 floors is just further proof that we blindly lie to ourselves that things can't be that bad, that the world isn't that evil and the rules are respect, being delusional of course, to help us sleep at night. That's why when she hits lower than what she was told was possible, she killed herself.
She's also a vegetarian, with a big love for animals. She obviously represents both an activist that is trying to tell others that they shouldn't eat more than they need, because that means that who's lower won't have anything left, which is such a big innuendo to climate change, but at the same time she's also a privileged person who's never been lower than a certain point and thinks that anyone can easily "just eat less" without caring about other's issues (it reminded me of some vegans who cannot accept that veganism is not accessible or sustainable for the majority of the would population)
The last roommate, the one with the rope represents a religious person, who endures the hardship without giving up because of his faith.
Another pragmatic sequence in my opinion was the one where the two, while descending the tower, met an ill man with a companion with the Down Syndrome (I'm sorry if I'm sounding insensitive is just that I don't know how else to better describe the scene to make it recognizable to you) who said that he will proceed to suffocate his cellmate to also eat what went into his stomach even while being no more hungry himself, I mean, can you better descrive greed than this sentence?
Now, coming to the final scene, which left many of the viewers disappoint or confused, here's my idea.
The deranged girl who claims to have a daughter is definitely crazy, but not completely gone. I do believe there is a baby there, and the Administration is probability unaware of that because there's someone higher than them, and they're being lied to, also. But I don't think the protagonist actually saw the little girl.
I think that he reached such a place of histeria that he convinced himself that the baby was alive, hallucinating, to have a last strand of hope as he was dying. Notice how the baby is perfectly clean and well nourished, that would be impossible. The little girl is long gone and dead God knows in which floor but he convinced himself that he saw her as a way of also hoping that some kind of humanity is still left, that they wouldn't kill and eat an innocent and innocuous creature. But that's not the case.
Notice how he reaches the 333th floor and then walks like he doesn't even have a scar. Now multiply that number for each room residents, which are two. He's dead and has now reached Hell. There he finds his first roommate who's also in Hell since they both damned themselves letting their selfishness take over. The lady is obviously absent, since she never hurt a thing or specifically ate someone's flesh.
The baby was all part of his imagination and she doesn't reach the 0 level, simply because she was never there in the first place.
The girl could have been the message if she reached the top, since it would have proven how flawed the system is, but she never will. Some people claimed that it is not possible to reach the top because of how fast the platform goes, that it will just crash on the ceiling. I do not agree. There's no point in letting the platform crash each time so it will probably slow down enough to reach level 0, in facts we don't even know how tall level 1 is.
Someone also claimed that it's impossible that no one else ever reached the top through this method, which means to go all the way down to then come back up. First of all, it could have happened and that person could have been sent back down, but what I find most reasonable is that no one knows how deep the hole is, probably up to hell, and no one is brave enough to do it because no matter how bad your situation is, you're still afraid of having it worse. It's a suicidal mission which led to crazyness and then death even our brave characters.
Another reference I've loved is when it's mentioned that usually the poorest kill each other's to survive, while the richest have the highest rate of suicide. Why is that? Easy, they have nothing to endure, to live for, they have everything, they're not longing for the hope of food plus there's frightening in knowing that the next month it can only worsen.
So now the question remains: What is the ending then if the baby doesn't reach the top? The finale guys was right in front of our eyes, around the middle of the movie. Remember when the chef complains to other cooks about the hair in the pannacotta? That's the real ending: the pannacotta reaches the top (further proof that the platform won't crash) as the message but instead of being interpreted as a statement of insurrection, the level 0 workers believe it was sent back because there was a hair in there. This is the ultimate slap in the face, the final proof that those people are so out of touch, so blind towards what's happening downstairs that they think that was the issue, the hair in the pannacotta, without realizing that people are literally eating each others down there.
So, there was actually a satisfying finale which gave us answers, it's just that the finale was not at the end as usual.
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smileyoongle · 5 years
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MASTERPIECE (A Yandere Park Jimin AU)
So basically this is where everything really starts. I swear, the ending that I have planned for this is mind boggling. I'm still surprised with the plot that I've planned. But I can't exactly just jump to the end so let's take it slow.
Summary: You thought it was just a painting until you bought it. You thought the man in the frame was beautiful until you saw him. You thought it was a masterpiece until you were ruined.
Pairing: Yandere! Jimin×Reader, Taehyung×Reader
Warnings: Contains mentions of smut, deaths, blood, obsessive behaviour and mental health issues. Please read at your own risk.
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You wiped your forehead and stepped down from the stool, a sigh of pride escaping your lips as you stared at the painting that was now hanging on your bedroom wall. It was sad that you had to take down the previous Helen Frankenthaler piece. But it's time was up. And no painting had made you so fascinated before. 
"Did you take down that nursery school painting?" A voice invaded your ears, your lips stretching into a smile as you turned to the source of the sweet voice. 
"Took you long enough to find me." You teased, opening your arms and hugging the older woman who had just entered your room. She chuckled and patted your back before ruffling your hair, her faint wrinkles making themselves visible as she smiled. You grinned at the mother-like lady who stood in front of you, who you lovingly called Nan. Since you moved into this house and away from your family, she had taken great care of you. She was originally the caretaker of the house and lived in a cottage nearby. But after you moved in, something clicked. Maybe it was because of the lack of affection from your mother and the absence of a daughter in Nan's life. In just a couple months, she was giving you the love that your family never gave you and you were beyond grateful for it.
"Says the girl who spent her entire day outside. And that too without eating any breakfast." She complained, giving you a playful glare. You shook your head and held her hand, pulling her in front of the new addition that you had made to your room.
"You can complain about it later but right now, I want you to tell me how you feel about this." You stated, nudging your head towards the painting. 
Nan raised her eyebrows and you could tell that she was impressed. Now that was even more surprising. Nan literally didn't care about any of your paintings. Mostly, because she didn't see what you saw in them. 
"Seems like you do have good taste, darling. He's a beauty." She said, staring at the painting for a second longer. You hummed in response and fixed your gaze at the swirls of paint on the canvas. You had to admit, even though the painting looked messy, it managed to look elegant. It was probably because of how good looking Park Jimin was but you had also seen your fair share of handsome men. Taehyung being one of them. And that's how you knew it wasn't just the pretty face, something about it was mysterious. You just didn't know what to assume. From the delicate frame to the faint patters of red that tainted the bottom of the canvas, you felt attracted to every inch of it. There was a story behind it. And you really wanted to know.
You gasped when you felt a slap on your shoulder, your eyes widening as you turned to Nan who was looking at you with narrowed eyes.
"Even though I know this is just a painting, let me just say that I won't approve if you fell for an imaginary man. And especially when you have an entire Kim Taehyung ready to sweep you off your feet." You rolled your eyes at her dramatic description. Sometimes, you swore that Nan was secretly running a fanclub for your and Taehyung's relationship. Even though she knew that you would never date him, she still tried. And you couldn't exactly blame her either, Taehyung was too charming.
"I won't fall for that man but I am definitely in love with that masterpiece." You said, walking out of your room and down the stairs. You heard her footsteps behind you as you entered the kitchen, your hand immediately going to the unopened bottle of merlot that rested on the table. 
"Too much isn't good for you." Nan stated in disapproval but you just shrugged, grabbing a wine glass to pour your treat for the night. 
You saw Nan shaking her head in your peripheral vision as you took the first sip of your red velvety liquid.
"Oh and your father called. He was asking if you were gonna go visit during Christmas." 
Your jaw immediately clenched, the red wine suddenly tasting bitter to you.
"What did you say?" You asked calmly. You didn't wanna lash out on Nan, she did nothing but worry about you.
But you couldn't say the same for your family.
Nan could sense the anger radiating off of you. She knew better than to mention your family but it was important in order to break your walls.
"I told them I'll talk to you about it." She answered, looking at you with concern filled eyes. 
You glanced at her, your fingers clenching around the glass in your hand. If you applied a little more pressure, it would surely break.
Nan opened her mouth to say something but you stopped her.
"I feel good today, Nan. It's probably the first time in months, so how about we just drop this and order pizza. I'm starving." You gave her a tight smile, breathing deeply to calm yourself down. 
Nan nodded in understanding, tucking a strand of gray hair behind her ear as she smiled at you. In all her years living with you, Nan knew that it was important for you to be happy. Your happiness meant that you were getting better and your therapy sessions were getting shorter. It really broke her heart to watch you get lost in your own thoughts. Bad thoughts, to be precise.
All because of something that happened years ago.
You headed upstairs in search of your phone, tipping your head back to gulp down all the liquid in your glass. The floor where your bedroom was located, was eerily dark and quiet. But what else could you expect? It was only you and Nan in the house. 
Even though you should have been used to it by now, you couldn't help but shiver. It was weird.
You switched on the lights in your room, skipping towards your bed where your phone lay. You plopped down on the soft mattress and grabbed your phone, dialing in your favourite pizza place's number. 
You inhaled deeply as the phone rang, signalling that your call was going through. And as soon as the receiver picked up, you felt it.
Hot breath fanning the back of your neck, shallow sounds of someone's breathing filling your ear. Your heart stopped, your body feeling the presence of another being right behind you. It was too real to be just your mind playing tricks.
It could be Nan.
"Y/N, I'm going to the cottage for a minute. I'll be back." 
Your eyes widened when you heard her voice from downstairs, followed by the slamming of a door. 
It wasn't her.
"Hello? Ma'am, are you there?" The pizza person asked, his voice growing bored with the lack of response. Goosebumps rose on your skin when a low hiss came from behind you. There was definitely someone standing there. You clenched your fingers around your phone, bringing it away from your ear as you gulped. Your heart was pounding so hard that you thought it was gonna jump out of your chest. 
With a shaky breath, you slowly turned around, your eyes closing in fear of seeing something you didn't wanna see. Another gush of air fanned your face, your eyes shooting open only to meet his.
Brown eyes stared into yours with as much stillness as a rock possessed. You placed a hand on your chest and sighed loudly.
"Fucking hell." You cursed, glancing at the painting that had startled you. You shook your head and laughed at yourself. There was nobody. It was just your mind. Or the fact you had merlot running through your veins. 
You narrowed your eyes and held your empty wine glass, bringing it closer to your face. You tilted your head as if to examine it. As if there was something wrong with it.
"I haven't even had too much yet." You mumbled before letting out a frustrated hiss and standing up from your bed. You grabbed your phone again, dialing the pizza place's number again as you exited the room. You definitely needed a break.
___________________________________________
The noise from the TV fell deaf to your ears as you slept on the couch. The empty pizza boxes were scattered around the huge living room, an empty bottle of merlot sitting just below the couch. Your mouth was slightly parted and your hair was all over your face. Nan had already left for the night, the comfort of her own cottage inviting her back home. It was 3AM when the soft footsteps echoed through the staircase, the TV screen suddenly going black. Your chest rose and fell rhythmically, your peaceful state making him more and more curious. 
Fingers trailed over your cheek, brushing away some of your hair from your face. You unconsciously shivered and whined, turning away to lay on your side with your cheek pressed against the soft material of the couch. A low chuckle made you frown in your sleepy state. You were awake only for a second before your body screamed at you to just ignore it and go back to sleep. And so you did. 
Nothing woke you up after that. Not even the feeling of his breath on your face. Not even the feeling of his lips next to your ears. Not even his voice. 
"Such a pretty little thing. I can't wait to ruin you."
____________________________________________
"Y/N, wake up! You have an appointment today." 
You groaned and covered your face, whining as the covers were pulled off of you. You flailed your hands in an attempt to grab them again but Nan knew you. And she had already tossed the blanket on the floor. 
"Sleepy head, wake up. We're gonna be late. I told you not to drink that entire bottle. I might have to take Taehyung up on his offer of banning the winery from sending you more." Her voice caused your head to throb. You winced and held your head, shoving your face into your pillow. 
Pillow…
Blanket... 
Realisation hit you like a huge tsunami, your eyes shooting open as you jolted awake. You frantically looked around, scoffing in disbelief as your bedroom came into view.
What the fuck?
Nan frowned and stared at you with concern, her hands halting their movements immediately.
"Are you alright?" She asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You blinked twice and ran your fingers through your hair. 
"Did-did I sleep here?" You asked, glancing at Nan whose eyes were still fixed on you. She nodded in confusion, not understanding the cause of your dilemma at all.
"You were sleeping here when I came in. Why? Something wrong?" She enquired, narrowing her eyes at you. You clenched your eyes shut and hissed, falling back into the soft sheets.
"I don't remember sleeping here... I'm probably just hungover." You stated, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You heard Nan tsk in disapproval. 
You obviously lied. You had been drinking for years now and you definitely knew when you were hungover. You clearly recalled falling asleep on the couch. So how did you end up here? 
"I don't know about you but I'm definitely telling Dr Kim about your little drinking sessions." Said a voice from the doorway. Once again, you sat up in bed with immediate effect. Your eyes meeting his beautiful brown ones, his lips stretching into a fond smile as you frowned at him.
"What are you doing here?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
Taehyung shrugged and plopped down on your bed, waving fondly at Nan as he turned his attention back to you.
"I took a day off. Work's getting overwhelming." He replied nonchalantly. His fingers picked at your silk sheets, a habit of his whenever he was lying. You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms.
Your glare made him roll his eyes as he raised his hands in defence.
"Fine. I was worried about you and Nan called me just in case you decide to cancel your appointment like last week." 
Your eyes turned to Nan for an explanation. But she seemed unaffected by your gaze. She was pretty used to it. At her lack of response, you sighed and looked at Taehyung.
"Why were you worried? And also, I cancelled my appointment last week because I don't think I need therapy anymore. I'm completely okay now." You said, gesturing to yourself. Taehyung and Nan glanced at each other before looking at you with pursed lips. You gave them a confused look, raising your eyebrows in question. 
Taehyung cleared his throat and sat up, shifting closer to you and tucking your hair behind your ear. You leaned into his touch, unknowingly. His warm hands providing you relief from your headache. He smiled softly, caressing your cheek before leaning forward.
"You called me last night, my love." He stated, tilting his head and looking at you with worrisome eyes. You frowned and shook your head.
"No I didn't…"
"I have the call log. You called me at around 3 in the morning." He interrupted you, making you shake your head even more furiously. Noticing your panic, Taehyung cupped your cheeks and hushed you.
"What did I say?" You questioned, your heart pounding in fear of an answer you didn't wanna hear. Taehyung's eyes turned to Nan who was watching you with sympathetic eyes. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to tell you this, but he knew that he'd calm you down in case you happened to have a breakdown. 
"You were crying for help. And you were repeatedly saying that he was gonna kill you…"
Your stomach churned and you yanked yourself away from Taehyung, your feet harshly hitting the wooden floor as you rushed to the bathroom. You threw the toilet lid open and fell to your knees, emptying all the contents of your stomach. Nan followed you and held your hair back, rubbing your back until you were done.
After you composed yourself, you stood up with shaky legs and rinsed your mouth before splashing your face with cold water. 
Your eyes met your own in the mirror, your mind hating the way you were showing pity for your own self. It had been months since you last had an attack related to the bitter memory that was engraved in your mind. You really thought you were getting better.
You were so wrong.
After a minute of self loathing, you went back to your bedroom, leaning against your closet as you stared at the floor. Taehyung stood with his back to you, his eyes dancing over the man who now resided in front of your bed. Nan was gone, leaving you alone with your handsome best friend. 
You really appreciated the presence of these two people in your life, seeing as how others had proved themselves unworthy of your attention.
"Do you think I'll ever get out of it?" You asked in a hushed tone, Taehyung's head turning to face you. He gave you a soft smile before walking towards you. He gently placed a finger under your chin and lifted your head up.
"You're Y/N Y/L/N. You'll always find a way." He stated before kissing your forehead. At times like these, you questioned your feelings for Taehyung. Your heart fluttered but you hushed it down. You hated him for being so good to you. But you also didn't wanna let him go.
Selfish was the only way to describe you.
"Also, should I be worried?" Taehyung asked, eyeing the painting suspiciously as you hummed.
Jimin's eyes stared back at you, making you shiver slightly. Sometimes, you wondered if paintings ever came to life.
Like toy story.
Or night at the museum.
The thought made you giddy and excited. With a firm look at your new favourite masterpiece, you mumbled under your breath and Taehyung's eyes turned to you with a playful glare.
"Maybe…"
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mollymauk-teafleak · 6 years
Text
the home that i've wanted to make
ko-fi | Ao3
The second part of my widomauk modern au, directly following on from this fic.
As always, huge thanks to my wonderful beta readers who are eternally patient and helpful and generally awesome people, @minky-for-short and @soft-bram.
reblog >>>>> likes
I want to spend the rest of my life with you…
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Caleb opened his eyes, startled. The exact words that his own mind had just whispered, spoken aloud, but not by him. He turned in the warm, slightly clinging embrace of the blankets to face Mollymauk who was lying on his stomach just an inch away from him even though the bed had space for more, his eyes half closed and glowing warmly, his cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his damp forehead in the way Caleb imagined his own must be.
“You do?” he murmured quietly, his voice rasping, “You’re not just saying that because I literally just finished eating you out?”
Molly gave a bark of laughter, reaching over and finding Caleb’s hand underneath the soft blankets ensnaring them both, winding his slim fingers through his boyfriend’s rough, calloused ones.
“I’d be lying if I said that didn’t have something to do with it,” he chuckled, voice lower than usual, rusty and sultry in that way it got after they’d had sex, the way that made Caleb’s heart beat faster when he heard it, “But no, I do mean it. If we could spend the rest of our lives like this, forever and ever? I’d be very okay with that.”
He winked at Caleb, eyes glowing a warm kind of ember red in the darkness that was getting heavier as the seconds went by, as the sun disappeared beneath the city skyline outside the window. When they’d burst into their bedroom, kissing frantically and pulling at each other’s clothes, remembering to flick the light on had not been either of their priorities.
“Forever and ever…” Caleb murmured, squeezing Molly’s hand gently. He let himself imagine that for a moment, coming home to Mollymauk at the end of every day, knowing for certain that he’d be waiting for him, lounging over the sofa or in the kitchen, singing as he worked. Molly sleeping beside him every single night with his gentle snores and habit of muttering nonsense in his sleep and kicking Caleb lightly in the shins when he’d get too warm. Molly’s shampoos and vast array of make up and products crowding on the shelf with his own, more modest collection (Molly had coaxed him into wearing eyeliner just last week, to his absolute delight); Molly’s effortlessly fashionable clothes hung alongside his six copies of the same dark green and mustard flannel. Molly’s books slid in alongside his own, messing up his painstakingly organised library that even now spilled out of three different sets of shelves onto their coffee table and kitchen counter and bedroom floor.
Molly’s life, irrevocably tangled and threaded through his own. Forever.
Of course, ever since they’d moved in together, only a few months ago now, Caleb had been quietly getting a taste of that life, settling into it and trying it out the way one wore in a new pair of shoes. Change didn’t come naturally to Caleb, he reacted to it the same way he reacted to pollen in the summer. Mollymauk seemed to understand and appreciate this, their moving in together had been gradual, delicate. A shared key here, shared grocery lists there, moving a few books and clothes back and forth, Frumpkin starting to appear at Molly’s window, scratching and meowing for food (much to Molly’s frustration, he wasn’t a cat guy). So, when they did eventually sign a lease together, when Yasha announced she and Nott and Beau were getting a place of their own, claiming it was because she was sick of being woken up at night by the sound of Molly’s headboard slamming rhythmically into the wall, which Molly pointed out indignantly had been going on long before Caleb turned up and she never complained before (she had), it was less a jump into the unknown for Caleb and more a gradual slide down into it, shuffling on his butt like a kid going down stairs.
And it had been good. It had been so, so good.
Caleb turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling where Jester had fixed up a galaxy of glow in the dark stickers shaped like stars, her contribution to their moving day. Still holding on to Molly’s hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed each of his knuckles in turn, drawing a rumbly laugh from the tiefling, now half asleep and half sunk into the pillows. Caleb listened to his slow, rhythmic breathing, felt his tail curl loosely around his thigh as if to make sure that he was still there in bed with him even while his eyes were closed. Not that there was anywhere in the world Caleb would rather be.
By the time sleep rose up and pulled him under its waves, as the radioactive green glow of the stars blurred and twisted and faded, Caleb had made up his mind. He was sick of keeping thoughts in his head, of denying not only Mollymauk but himself too.
This needed to be said out loud.
***
“Hey, Beau, look at this!”
Mollymauk raised his voice above the clamour of their usual table at the Nestled Nook, tucked away in one corner right by the window with the overstuffed, cracked leather sofa chairs that they liked to lounge on and had all their initials carved into the inside of one of the mismatched legs. Caduceus had not been best pleased with them that day though he hadn’t been able to keep back a wry smile when they’d included a proud ‘C.C.’ on the list.
Making a powerfully poor decision, Beau looked up from her phone, likely making yet another gym appointment so she could gawk at Yasha from the treadmills while she lifted weights and continue to still not actually ask her out on a concrete date, despite the urgings of her friends.
As she did, Molly blew into his straw and nailed her right between the eyes with the paper wrapper.
For the fourth time that afternoon.
Which, in retrospect, she really should have seen coming.
Molly was too busy cackling maniacally and trying to avoid the salt shaker that Beau upended over his head in retaliation to hear the bell brightly titter at the arrival of Caleb, Nott in her usual position clinging to his back like a green, skinny koala. In amongst Jester’s laughter, Beau calling him a bitch loudly and Fjord chuckling in his usual, thunder like rumble, he didn’t notice as his boyfriend sidled awkwardly over to the counter, looking very much like a man trying not to be conspicuous and failing. He didn’t see the tape Caleb fished out of one of his many homemade pockets and slide across the worn, wooden surface into Caduceus’ hand with a smile made crooked by nervousness, answered with a calm nod and a grin.
He did notice as Caleb approached the table, jumping up to kiss him, face alight with excitement, “Babe, I got her! Right in the face, I told you I could!”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t do it, sweetling,” Caleb pointed out, only blushing a little at being greeted so forcefully in front of their friends, he was getting used to it, “I said you shouldn’t.”
“Ah, I always get confused between those two,” Molly shrugged happily, kissing him again for good measure, a quick flicker of his lips against Caleb’s before he let him go take his usual seat- the one across from his boyfriend’s so Molly could swing his long legs up into his lap, so Caleb’s fingers could walk along the strong lines of his limbs.  
The friends quickly sank into their usual comfortable chatter, trading it back and forth across the table in perfect rhythm, each one of them feeling a sense of completeness they couldn’t quite explain but could recognise that it had something to do with having every seat at their table filled.
Though in the middle of it all, Mollymauk found his eyes inescapably drawn across to Caleb, sat hunched over a mug of dark, cinnamon scented tea, answering in soft, short sentences only when someone spoke to him first. None of that was particularly unusual, not for Caleb, but something still made Molly tilt his head curiously.
“Is everything okay, my love?” he asked, voice low, under the buoy of the rest of the chatter, as he reached over and took his hand, “You’ve got ‘Caleb has a deadline tomorrow’ face but I’m pretty sure you graduated a while back. That happened, right? I think I was there…”
“I did and you were,” Caleb’s cheeks turned a little pink, like someone caught in the act though Molly couldn’t see for the life of him what that act might be, “I’m fine! Just…just thinking, you know…”
“How was the bookstore?” he tried, if there was any subject that could get Caleb to talk it was what he’d found on his last venture to his most favourite place in the city apart from his and Molly’s bed (though the tiefling did wonder sometimes), the ancient antique book store that looked as if it had been standing longer than civilisation, staying resolutely wonky and askew and stuffed with anything and everything a person could ever want and quite a few oddities that no one in their right mind would ever want.
“Oh, it was good,” Caleb nodded, eyes still sliding off his face every time he looked up at him, “Got a few things…”
And then he lapsed into silence again, turning as if focusing on someone else down the far end of the table, though his attention was clearly nowhere near the Nestled Nook.
Molly frowned in puzzlement, eyes sweeping over the rest of the table but no one seemed to be noticing Caleb’s fidgetiness and agitation and general air of suspiciousness. In fact, they all looked as if they were quite deliberately ignoring their end, seemingly incredibly absorbed in Nott’s recounting of how Beau and Yasha had an arm wrestling contest the night before and put a crack in their dining room table, even Caduceus who’d abandoned the counter and slid into his seat to listen.
“You sure you’re alright?” Molly sighed, turning back to Caleb, resolutely staring down into his mug and not at his boyfriend’s face.
“Positive. Totally. Completely,” Caleb replied far too quickly, stepping on the end of Molly’s sentence and plastering a wide smile on his face, “Just a normal day, normal Saturday, just hanging out.”
Though frustrated, Molly shrugged and turned back to his drink, though he didn’t retract his hand, fingers staying wound through Caleb’s. He knew his wizard. As much as he didn’t like it, he knew there was no way to get him to cough up whatever was bothering him, not before he was ready. Soon he’d come, holding it shyly in tightly cupped hands, apologetic and morose but not after he’d chewed and agonised over it on his own for a while. There was much Molly would have given to be able to bypass that and spare him from it but, short of the world’s most well intentioned and loving interrogation, nothing could make Caleb budge.
Molly adored his wizard more than anything else in the world but that could still be the case while he exasperated the hell out of him.
The tiefling let his thoughts wander, briefly wondering if Beau would fall for the same trick with the straw for a fifth time and just how bad she’d beat him with a rolled-up The Fantasy New Yorker if she did.
His feet picked it up long before his brain did, the heel of his boot tapping in time with the music against the floorboards as the sing kicked in, underpinned by the wheeze and crackle of Caduceus’ old speaker system. It crept up his body, taking hold of his fingers next as they drummed against Caleb’s knuckles, then further until his pointed ears flickered and stood vertical with sudden excitement.
Molly beamed, sitting up a little straighter, glancing around as if an old friend had just wandered into the café which, in a way, was true.
“Caleb!” he squeezed his hand, “They’re playing the song again!”
The wizard looked up, raising his eyebrows curiously, “The song?”
Mollymauk rolled his eyes, not surprised or even particularly annoyed that Caleb had forgotten, “It’s the song that was playing the first time we met each other in here! Y’know, after I gave you my number when you were smashed beyond belief and then we found each other here again…”
“I remember,” Caleb was smiling now, a shy, sweet sort of smile that made those crinkles appear in the corners of his lovely brown eyes. All the anxiousness seemed to have melted off his face and he took a deep breath, pushing a curtain of hair away from his face so his eyes could meet Molly’s, “Believe me, I remember.”
Relief bloomed in Mollymauk’s chest like cool water on a sunburn, seeing his boyfriend smiling like that again. Surely whatever had been gnawing at him couldn’t be all that bad after all? He was on the verge of kissing him, maybe even tugging him towards the bathroom for a quickie no matter what the sign on the door said, when Caleb cleared his throat a little and his hand dipped into the inside of his ratty old coat, the one Molly was always threatening to give to a thrift store or burn but never, ever would.
“Actually, I did find a book at the shop that I wanted to show you,” he murmured, drawing out something square and slim and bound in worn, red leather with pages the colour of milky coffee and bulging out between the covers, “There’s a passage in it…”
Molly reached out happily, his smile softening. His wizard was always doing this, finding odd phrases or paragraphs in the many books he devoured that made him think of his boyfriend, that said the things he felt for him far better than he ever could. He’d always highlight them or circle them in pencil to show him excitedly the next time their busy schedules pushed them together again. Molly loved every single one, they were like precious gems to him that Caleb had found digging in his seemingly endless mines of words and diagrams and indices and it was a balm to know that Caleb continued to think of him even when they were apart, just like Molly thought of him.
The title proclaimed it to be a book of early 18 th century poetry and the page was marked out for him with a bus ticket; Molly flipped to it eagerly, not noticing that the table had gone utterly silent around them.
“Wait…what?” he frowned in confusion once it was laid out before him. There was no grimy fluorescent highlighter or scratchy faded pencil showing him where to look, in fact, the page was heavy with thick, harsh blackness obliterating most of the lines, aside from a few gaps.
“Read it…” Caleb’s voice was soft, insistent.
Feeling a little lost but also like he was about to find out what had been bugging his boyfriend all day, Mollymauk ran his eyes along the pen lines, finding where they broke around certain words scattered across the page like storm clouds letting in bursts of fading sunshine, reading them aloud slowly to try and find the meaning.
“Will…you…marry…me…”                                                                              
Oh.
Molly’s eyes shot up as the book fell from his limp fingers, to find Caleb on one knee beside the table, his expression a mix of apology, hopefulness, relief, love, joy, terror, one of his own rings held between his fingers, offered up to him. His mother’s ring, in fact, the one he’d been wearing for as long as Molly could remember.
“So…yeah,” he rasped, tears clearly held back as best he could manage though they were betrayed by his voice, “Will you?”
For once in his life, Mollymauk Tealeaf was utterly and completely speechless. All he could manage was to nod frantically and yank Caleb up by the lapels of his coat so he could kiss him fiercely, throwing his arms around him, both of them oblivious to the cheers, applause and the banging of fists on the table from their friends.
and the banging of fists on the table from their friends.
So, technically, Caleb hadn’t actually managed to say it out loud. But it was pretty damn perfect, all the same.
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forgedobsidian · 7 years
Note
Hi. I'm the anon that sent you all those asks a while back that you wrote amazing fanfic for. I've been thinking about this scenario for a while and I want to share it with you. It's probably the worst thing I've ever come up with and I'm very very sorry. 1/5.
Ok so this future scenario starts out happy enough, with Izuku working as a hero and gradually gaining popularity. Even though he’s very busy with work, he of course makes time to visit All Might regularly. All Might isn’t getting any younger, he’s retired from teaching, his hair is more grey than blonde now, he’s been having some issues with arthritis in his hands. And lately, Izuku has been noticing changes in All Might that make him anxious. 2/5.
Lately All Might has seemed distracted as well as tired, more than he usually is. He’s also lost weight, which Izuku didn’t know was possible considering how thin All Might already was. One day All Might invites Izuku over for tea and Izuku just knows that this isn’t just a social call. He’s right. While they are having tea All Might tells Izuku that he’s been diagnosed with cancer. 3/5.
Izuku is shocked and scared, asking all sorts of questions such as if he’s started treatment yet and what sort of chances he has. All Might stops him and tells him that he isn’t going through with the treatment. He says there is pretty much no chance of him surviving chemo with his health how it is and not going through with chemo will probably give him longer left to live. Izuku tries to argue but All Might won’t budge and it ends with All Might holding Izuku while he cries. 4/5.
All Might eventually gets round to telling all of his old students about his diagnosis and his decision and they all react in their own way such as lots of anger and swearing from Bakugo. In the following month they all try to spend as much time with All Might as possible before he passes away. 5/5.
Ah, multi-ask-anon!! Hello!! I’m happy to hear from you again!! Your ideas are always the best, tbh.
Okay, ouch?? Frigging ouch?? This is terribly painful IN MY BONES and I love it.
The image of a fully-fledged Izuku, thriving as a hero, was wonderful, as well as the idea of a old All Might. Izuku is strong, but maybe not as tall or as beefy as All Might was in his prime. Toshinori stoops a lot more, his joints are thick with age and use, maybe he has to wear glasses all the time to help his worsening eyesight.
Izuku noticing things about All Might’s behavior that make him anxious … ouch. He forgets things sometimes, like where he placed his glasses or his cane. It’s easier for him to be distracted, or keep track of a conversation. It’s hard for him to stay warm. The image of an old All Might just starting to steadily lose weight is making me cry on my keyboard HECK. He’s already so thin, and he looses what lean muscle he had. It doesn’t take any effort at all from Izuku to simply pick Toshinori up.
The cancer diagnosis … I love the way you think, anon. The Pain™ is always top quality.
Izuku … gosh, Izuku. He would be hurting so so much. All Might is his hero, was there for him when he needed help, and by this point he’d probably have come to the realization that Toshinori was his father-figure. He’d be losing so much, and would be so confused. Toshinori’s choice to not go through with treatment makes sense. His health is already bad, and chemo might kill him faster than the cancer itself. It would probably take a while for Izuku to really accept his decision, since Toshinori has always been so determined about living. Izuku might take his decision as a sign of his teacher giving up.
Eventually, though, Izuku understands. He has to. This isn’t an enemy he can fight, or outwit, or even befriend. It’s a fact of life that everything ends (”All roads come to an end,” to quote Toshinori talking to Bakugou). He’s fortunate to have been given as much time with Toshinori as he had, and ultimately he remembers the happy times instead of being bitter that they had to end.
All of Toshinori’s students make time to visit when they can. They all notice that he’s lost weight, and his health is failing. Toshinori would be rail-thin by the end, his face drawn and narrow even moreso that it had already been. They know it won’t be long.
Bakugou is angry, but he understands. Kirishima starts crying right away, and it doesn’t stop for a while. Uraraka goes very quiet and just gives All Might a tight hug, and if she cries onto his shoulder he never complains. Todoroki spends a lot of time with his former teacher, just reading and being in the same room. They all visit, sometimes in groups, and Toshinori is always happy to see them.
And maybe this is just a typo, but you said that in the “following month they all try to spend as much time with All Might as possible before he passes away.” That makes me think that he only lived a month after telling his students about the diagnosis and my heart literally did a painful squeeze.
I’ve thought about All Might’s eventual death before, and for some reason I always imagined it as a slow decline until a peaceful passing (”Cyclamen” aside). This idea fits perfectly. He would know he was loved and appreciated, and he would be glad to have seen everyone one last time. Izuku is holding his hand when he passes away.
This idea is wonderful, anon. I got inspired and, I hope this okay, wrote down a scene.
Thank you so much for sharing your idea. It’s fantastic!!
“How long have you known?”
“A week.”
Izuku let out a shaky breath. “Alright. When do you start treatment?”
“My boy,” Toshinori sighed. “I’m not going through with treatment.”
“W-what?” Izuku felt his chest drop.
“I’m not doing chemo. That was my decision.”
“And what are your chances without the treatment!?” Izuku felt a surge of anger in his chest, and he was aware of how close he was to shattering the mug in his hand.
“Izuku, calm down.”
“No! You’re dying, All Might, and you’re not doing anything to stop it! That’s not like you!”
“Izuku, look at me.”
The younger man raised his head, seeing the exhaustion in Toshinori’s eyes and his wasted frame. His hands were thick-knuckled and permanently numb, the nerve damage of too many fights never managing to heal. His hair was gray, only brief shimmerings of blond left in his untamed mane of hair.
“Do you really think I would survive chemo?”
“It might give you a chance!”
“Me being the way I am, the treatment would kill me faster than the cancer, Izuku.”
“It’s not … that’s not …” Izuku felt himself start to hyperventilate, and he tried to get his breathing under control. He cursed under his breath.
Toshinori reached out, one hand fastening on Izuku’s upper arm and the other curling around the back of his head. The retiree pulled his successor into a tight hug, resting his chin on Izuku’s head.
“It’s not fair.” Izuku choked out a sob, throwing his arms gently around Toshinori’s torso. His head rested on Toshinori’s shoulder, and he buried his face in the side of his teacher’s neck.
Toshinori felt tears start to trail down his back. “I know, my boy. I know.”
Toshinori held Izuku, one hand slowly rubbing circles into the hero’s back. Izuku cried into his shoulder, face buried in Toshinori’s shirt. They both wondered how much time was left.
26 notes · View notes