starsmuserainbow · 1 year ago
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❝ I didn’t mean to do that! ❞ (( Bibi @ Starfire if das' ok? ))
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[[Thank you for sending one!]]
That definitely was the first time that Starfire got an apology when an unmanned vehicle - a bike in this case - crashed into her. No bad crash happened, it was more like a stronger bump and neither of them were most likely really damaged from it, but, it still came very startling. It was most likely her fault for landing suddenly to help with the scene; but the bike apologized, and Starfire shook her head. As confusing as it was, she wasn't going to let that stop her from being friendly, especially in response to an apology.
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"Oh!" She smiled after a moment, to reassure the bike. "Do not worry. It was my fault for not looking around more before I landed."
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corpsentry · 2 months ago
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ao3 mirror
fandom: your name engraved herein rating: t starring: birdy, a-han
It's three am and you’re barreling down a deserted road at the speed of fast. He’s gripping the handles for dear life; you’ve let go. You’re not wearing anything under your suspenders and your voice is hoarse from shouting. His shoulders are shaking with laughter. “DO YOU LIKE THE COLOR OF MY NEW BIKE?” What color was it again? “IF YOU LIKE IT I DO TOO."
Birdy, on flying.
11.
You stare at him the whole way to the beach. What else are you gonna look at? Any time the two of you go somewhere the whole world narrows down to just him and whatever else happens to be there. It’s always been that way. Him and the old lady snoring in the seat across the aisle. Him and the street papered with calligraphy and movie posters the size of airplanes. Or tonight, him and the cramped sleeping quarters on the overnight ferry, the plasticky curtains and the three-centimeter mattress.
It’s like— here’s the thing, right. The world’s always been plenty interesting to you. You like how it’s full of contradictions. You like the sting of knowing you’ve gotten under someone’s skin, the way anger slides off you like cold water. All your life you’ve lived like that, running backwards and laughing at the moon.
He was the first thing you didn’t have to put on goggles to look at and still found beautiful. When he showed up that day in the pool you forgot you were in a movie for a moment and tried, like a big fucking idiot, to live. God, shit, you could die in that light. But the laws of the world dictated your graduation, your marriage, your first kid. You couldn’t hang out forever between bus rides and train rides, sleep curled up in KTV rooms until you got kicked out by the waitstaff.
Well. You probably could. But he couldn’t. Even now, after everything (and by everything you mean everything, you mean the hell you’ve unleashed on this miserable fuck of a boy for no good reason at all), he’s still— you’re still— You follow him across the country like a damn hoot, buy whatever tickets he buys, yell at him in that voice that you know makes him self-conscious because it attracts too much attention, and he doesn’t do a thing.
He could tell you to fuck off. He could walk away from you, take a sharp turn and start running, though he’d have to really put his heart into it to lose you because you’re better than him at sprinting and long distance and worse than him at everything else (you get distracted by pigeons when you’re playing basketball). He could kill you, for all you care. Might as well. You’re basically asking for it.
But he doesn’t. He doesn’t have it in him to be cruel, even now, pushed to the edge of the water.
That’s why you left. That’s why you’re leaving.
10.
“You see, I was the one who stole the balloon and strung it up,” you tell his parents, sitting on the lumpy green chair in their lumpy green living room. “But he said it was him.”
His mom is wounded. His dad is mega pissed off. You’re just there.
They do that for a while— his dad getting more and more mega pissed off at the table, his mom fretting her sleeves to pieces against the wall.
“Fuck. Piece of shit son. Fuck.”
You do not lift your gaze from your hands, which you hold unnaturally still under the table.
“Dear, let’s wait for him to tell us his side of the story…”
“What side of what story? Fuck. He’s not gonna have a damn mouth to talk with when I’m done with him. Goddamnit.”
The floor is tiled with medium-sized white squares. The ceiling light is a single bulb covered with a frosted panel of concave glass. Out of the corner of your eye, leaning against a cabinet, you see a potted plant with big scalloped leaves, mostly dead.
“Which girl was it? What class?” A pause. “Hell, who are you? What class?”
“Dear, we know Po Te, remember?” Muted shuffling. His mom is scuffing her slippers on the floor. You imagine her wringing her hands together the way her son does, bringing them to the back of her neck and looking away. “They’re friends.”
An irreverent amount of time later, he shows up with a bloodied collar and eyes like marbles with bits of gold in them and you have to fight all twelve apostles of god to stay angry. You think you might be one of the biggest pieces of shit the universe has ever produced. You think that your shitbag dad was right about one thing, just one, his whole life.
“What,” he says slowly, like it hurts him to speak, “do you want me to do?”
You rip your gaze away from the floor. “What do you want from me?” He takes one step forward. You take two back.
“What?” What. “What do you want?”
You want, um, let’s see. You want to watch a really good movie, one of those western ones, with violins and guns and lots of crying. You want to eat roasted peanuts out of a shallow dish. You want to go skinny dipping, to tear down the street on a 3 am motorbike, to climb out a broken window and keep going up, up, up, until you punch through the atmosphere and into the stars.
You want to cry.
“I want—” you spit, and you’re all fucked up now but because your throat is closing up the words come out cold and mean, which is exactly what you want and terribly unfortunate.
“—I want you to leave me the fuck alone.”
One time when you were little your sisters took you to the public pool. You were something like seven; they were eight and nine and eleven. There was this giant slide, three storeys tall, that all the kids were lining up to go on. Your sisters wanted to go too but you were too young to follow so they took turns watching you in the kiddy pool. The kiddy pool had a mini slide which you slid down over and over again, pretending you were on the giant slide with everyone else. Your eldest sister was doing handstands in the water when you went down the slide wrong. You hit your head on the edge of the pool, right where the slide should have dumped you into the water. You floated aimlessly for a while before walking over to your sister to tell her what had happened but she ran over before you got there and asked, all panicky: what happened? Where does it hurt? She touched the side of your face, right below where the blood was starting to dry. Only then did you start to cry.
A-han looks you dead in the eye and it’s a little like falling off a motorbike.
“Okay,” he says quietly.
There’s some shouting from both sides. His mom pleads to the air to stop fighting, you’re the best of friends and you think here is someone who could have done something and then keep throwing punches because she should’ve but she didn’t and now it’s too late. His dad is so pissed it’s actually moved him to inaction, although he’s shaking hard enough that the ceiling light is doing a little jig. Or maybe it’s you that’s shaking, you can’t really tell. Your vision’s a little shot through right now. You’re a little in over your head.
A-han inhales and all the air in the room leaves with him.
“Mom, dad—”
Oh no, he’s actually stupid.
“The person I like is—”
You’re so choked up his name comes out more like a scream than a shout. But he hears it, and stops.
“Okay,” he repeats, dry as an Arizona summer. Something in him is giving but not in the direction you want. It is possible that you are crying. You’re a little in over your head. You’re a little in over your head.
You stand in the Chang family’s living room for a moment, counting the number of leaves on the dead plant.
Then you follow him out. There’s nowhere left for you to go, after all.
9.
It made you angrier that he came, actually. You didn’t want him to see you like this. You didn’t want him to see you at all. If he saw you then you might see him and then it would all come flying out of you like week-old chickenshit, miles and miles and miles of want pouring out of your eyes, ears, teeth. You’d made an art out of hiding the shiny thing in you. Worked yourself to death to make it happen. It’s like— say this whole thing was a movie, right. Then Taichung would be the stage and A-han’s eyes would be the camera. This being one of those sprawling epics, you couldn’t break the fourth wall and let the audience know you were in on the big secret so to prevent that from happening you decided to stop looking at him altogether. Easy. Just don’t look. Don’t look at him, Birdy. Don’t look.
But God is cruel and mysterious in his ways. By the time A-han wheels into the staff room, wild-eyed and frantic, you’ve already lost. And then your shitbag dad clocks him over the head with a chair and your vision flares red and— then, well, it’s really over.
8.
We can’t talk about this.
We can’t talk about what happens in the shower. What would we say?
Before: He hadn’t wanted to give you his motorbike (he never wanted to give you his motorbike) but you asked anyway. It had become a litmus test of sorts; how much could you take from him before he punched you in the face? You’d set this rule for yourself when the new school year began where you were only allowed to talk to him if it’d make things worse. So you asked again. And again. And again, but this last time, you didn’t do it for Ban Ban. It was a Tuesday. You’d dreamed about him the night before, which was the first mistake. Your limbs were heavy and disconnected and your head felt like a watermelon full of bits of other fruit but you wheeled the bike out anyway. The meaningless gray sky followed you around like a dog no matter how fast you went and it was so frustrating, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop even when the road started to spin— the second mistake. You saw it happen through a wide-lens shot like it was someone else who totaled the bike. Then there was noise, chatter, bright spots in your vision. The guy from the stall up ahead insisted on calling an ambulance though you cussed him out hard enough to make your shitbag dad flinch. Eventually they left you alone. You were angry and hurt and bleeding. The fruit cup of your brain was getting put through a blender, as was most of your left arm. In a moment of bottom-of-the-barrel despair, left with nothing but your body, which was ruined, and your heart, which you had yourself broken, you— the third mistake— reached for your phone.
After: You couldn’t stop crying for hours. At some point, he left.
7.
You have this theory that the bigger the gesture is the longer the feeling will last. You are telling yourself this as you haul ass towards the massive balloon that will surely fix everything. You’re not sure how exactly it will fix everything. All you know is that you’re playing an important role and you need as many people as possible to believe it. In that regard, the balloon makes sense. Once you’ve got it up at assembly no one’ll be able to look away even if they want to, although you frankly do not care what anyone wants. You care what Ban Ban wants in a faint, geographical way. You care a little what Father Oliver wants because he gives just half a shit less than all the other adults, which is impressive in a world this boring and dumb. As for the rest of them— whatever. Tomorrow is your confessional. All they have to do is watch.
A-han is here because someone needs to make sure you don’t get caught. That’s all.
“Hey, uh— are you done yet?”
He sounds far away and annoyed.
“Almost,” you reply, look down, and regret it instantly.
You’re grateful A-han’s such a caring and conscientious friend. He wouldn’t let you get caught because one, he’s a nice kid and two, he’s got common sense. If you got in trouble then he would, thus implicated, also be in trouble, which would be bad for him, so…
He wouldn’t do that to himself. He’s stupid, but not that stupid.
“Hey, you know, the thing I wanted to tell you—”
“Yeah?” you say, working your way through the river of knots. Your brain catches up a few moments later. You remember, suddenly, how you tricked him into coming out here in the first place.
There is a brief, meaty silence in which he works up the courage to keep talking while you rip your fingers to shreds getting the rope loose.
“Actually, I—“
You have not done it but you start whooping anyway. The sudden rush of oxygen leaving your lungs makes you light-headed. Five meters down, A-han is trying to tell you the words that will undo you. But all you can hear is the cicadas.
Now you’re tearing down the street on a 3 am motorbike, the helium balloon rippling behind you like a deep-sea jellyfish. Now you’re gripping the edge of the seat and howling at the moon. Now you’re sneaking off during morning assembly, crouching in the grass, setting it afloat.
It’s just a murmur at first but it quickly grows into a storm. Six hundred eyes go wide with wonder.
A-han can barely look at you. You see the emotions flit across his face from your place in line, the rest of your body turned towards Ban Ban, who is blushing like the sweetest dusk. Surprise, curiosity, confusion. Then the click of realization, the shuttering of the eyes.
As the crowd goes wild with the ecstasy of young love, you feel a sick thing surge through you. This must be what people feel like when they take home 100% on a test and their parents give them extra pocket money.
God, you’ve never tried so hard for anything in your life. He’d be so grateful, if only he knew.
6.
Here is the part of the story where you change your mind.
It wouldn’t have taken much to stop you. You wanted to be saved. You wanted to stay on the dark, uneven path that led into the woods. You were just waiting for someone to tell you it was okay to keep going like this, anyone at all, and then it would— it really would be— okay.
But no one did, no matter where you went and how far you wandered.
So it wasn’t okay. You had to go.
5.
If asked, years later, you’d probably say this moment was the worst.
Not the fighting. You’d been beaten up before and you’d get your ass beat again no matter how you tried to avoid it. Not the name-calling, either, though that did reach a new and unprecedented level once they realized no one was going to make them stop. You were just schoolboys being schoolboys, punching each other in the face, screaming each other’s ears off. Standard coming-of-age stuff.
It’s not that everyone within a fifty meter radius was watching. You don’t mind attention. You always liked the sound of your own voice more than anything. It’s not the way the metal grill of the gate dug into your hands and left them red and stinging. It wasn't the moment of free fall, or the impact, or the way you walked funny on your right side for two weeks after. You didn’t make it this far in life on faith alone.
When you were thirteen you decided your name was Birdy. After that, the world became way more interesting. You couldn’t leave it alone— you were always prodding at it or shoving it around, trying to find the limits. You were a one-man circus trying to redefine what it meant to be young and alive in a country that had almost, almost made it out of the dark. Only the rest of them were coming into an age of power, while you were slowly growing aware of a deficit in yours.
The other boys were wrong about one thing: You never wanted to fly. All the living things with wings had already been doing it for thousands and thousands of years; there was no point in starting now when you’d never be able to catch up. You didn’t need to fly, but you couldn’t break. Birdy was a prayer that had to hold no matter what came.
You considered your options. You could try to really do one of the guys in— but you were fast, not strong, and you were terribly distracted by all the noise. You could ask for help, but that would be humiliating. You could try to run, but the hallway was so narrow and there were so many of them and there was so little of you. You’d already gone for the grill once and that seemed to have only made things worse. A-han was this close to socking one of his thug friends in the face. You couldn’t drag this out any longer.
So you climbed onto the railing.
No, this isn’t the worst part.
All their anger liquefied into fear the moment you stood up. One of them, you forget his name, was pleading with you. Look, we’re sorry, come down, come down, please, or whatever. It was so abrupt it was almost funny. You wondered if anyone had ever been this afraid for you before, and concluded that they hadn’t. It occurred to you that maybe your humanity really was this thin, that they’d never regret it unless you died in the saddest, most miserable way possible. You thought: This is fucked as all hell, and I am quite sad.
Then you forgot all about this stuff, because you saw him.
“Birdy?”
Oh, how you hated that he saw you. It would’ve been shitty if he weren’t there but you’d dealt with shitty before and you’d deal with it again. It didn’t matter what happened to you as long as you got to keep Birdy. Birdy was fun and loud and a little crazy. Birdy could outrun the police and out-laugh the gods and got distracted by pigeons in basketball games. Birdy was untouchable.
You flapped your arms, just in case they turned into wings. What do you know, it was a lie all along.
Then you jumped.
There comes a point in everyone’s life when they realize the limits of their own abilities and, simultaneously, the inherent cruelty of the universe.
It sucks that you found out so early. You should’ve stayed young for five, ten, a hundred more years. You deserved to grow up wild and carefree, ricocheting down empty streets and turning in absolutely none of your homework.
But you found out. Okay, now this is the worst part.
At no point did you betray each other. You loved that boy like nothing you had ever known. It lit you up from the inside like a goddamn firework.
You knew. You were aware of the beating of your own heart. It didn’t matter.
4.
Three times you pretend to be asleep.
One: The middle-aged women sitting both in front of and behind you on the bus to Taipei keep you awake for most of the ride. It’s not their fault, not really, and you don’t get mad; you’re just a light sleeper. Always have been. A-han is the opposite. He’s out like a rock the whole time, even when one of the women makes a particularly bad pun and her friend lets out a shriek of laughter just as the bus jolts to a stop at a red light and someone’s baby starts howling its toes off. Meanwhile you nod off a hundred times, tensing awake each time at the sudden warmth of his head, his shoulder, his neck. When the bus pulls into the station, he’s energetic and well-rested. You’re doing everything in your power to let go.
Two: The KTV is his suggestion. You were all like, let’s just get something from a street stall and squat on the stairs until dawn but he noticed you acting funny and correctly inferred your exhaustion. He pays for both of you at the counter. It agitates you a little, though you don’t know why. Later, halfway through your noodles you ask him what would you do if I died and he says don’t think about such dark shit and you think that’s a good answer. Then you lie down and close your eyes because you’re tired. You think maybe sleep will come for you this time but instead you just become deeply, frighteningly aware of his body in the room. He sits for a while in silence— probably thinking about french horns or something. You start to drift. The rustling of fabric jolts you awake. The sofa shudders where he presses his hand into it, centimeters from your neck. You feel him getting closer, a bright bloom of heat traveling through the dark. It dawns on you, suddenly, that he is going to kiss you. Then there’s a sharp knock on the door— just like that, he’s gone.
Three: You were cold, that's all.
You were cold even with your jacket and the half of his body pressed into your side and the jukebox at your back. He was like the first time you jumped into a pool and learned that you could float. The voice of a dead man was ringing in your ears like a hymn, saying our world isn’t as bad as you think, so why are you so sad, why are you so sad…
3.
“I glanced across the room,” Father Oliver is saying, his voice somber and low. Everyone in the room gawks at him without blinking like a bunch of damn ghosts, as if by watching him talk about love they will understand a little more of it themselves. Ha! If only it were that easy.
A-han’s fiddling with the mouthpiece of his trumpet, distracted. Your gaze travels from his hands to the sleeves of his uniform, his collar, his left ear.
“I was looking at him—”
His hands still. He lifts his gaze to the blackboard, eyes unfocused. Father Oliver’s voice fades into the static of the afternoon.
“—and he was, also, looking at—”
And there you are, and have been, all along.
2.
Your love language is gifts. You give him everything you have and then some. Steamed buns, peanuts, the physics exam sheet.
Your love language is acts of service. You feed him juice when he’s supposed to be standing to attention. Cut his hair on the basketball court.
Your love language is physical touch. You clap him on the shoulder, punch him in chest, flick him between the eyes, sling your arm around his neck, sidle up next to him at lunch, high five him for breathing, lie next to him on his tiny mattress eating snacks you stole from the superintendent’s office, clap him on the shoulder again, your hand lingering on his skin while you think about difficult questions like what happens when we die and where do we go after and it wouldn’t be that bad if this is all you ever had. You’d go like this willingly. A whole life pissing into the dorm head’s car while A-han cusses under his breath at silly, crazy Birdy, oh Birdy—
Is this the moment where it ends?
Or is it when the dorm head finds snack wrappers in your bag and he steps into the hallway while you’re down on your hands and feet, getting your ass whipped to pieces? Or is it the first time you show up in his room at night and you watch him give in to you in real time, his whole body deflating as he sigh-laughs and gestures for you to come up to his bunk?
1.
Or is it that day in the pool, when he tells you his name and his class and the whole world slides sideways to make way for him?
You’re seventeen and you know nothing. You know you hate your shitbag dad for raising you angry. You know you hate people who beat the shit out of others for no good reason. You have a lot of hate in you for someone so young, and very little else.
Well. You also have Birdy. And Birdy has A-han, but that’s later. Later you’ll run wild through the deserted streets of youth and laugh until you’re dead. Later you’ll grow up, and it’ll be the worst thing that’ll ever happen to you.
Nothing will hurt after that. Nothing will move you, either.
0.
One time when you were young you transferred schools. You were seventeen and full of anger and loneliness; he was seventeen and shimmered when he moved. There was this thing everyone was talking about back then, this feeling of being able to do anything you wanted. It was 1987 and the world was on its way out. The more the adults said they couldn’t have it the more all the young people obsessed over it. They hopped over gates and made out in cemeteries after midnight. They got in trouble like clockwork.
For what it’s worth, you didn’t give a shit. You were perfectly satisfied with your one-man circus, running around after dark and sneaking snacks out of the superintendent’s office when no one was looking. Sometimes someone was looking and you got caught and it was kind of shitty, but you’d dealt with shitty before and you’d deal with it again. You were the kind of reckless that invited trouble. You knew. You liked it.
One time when you were little your sisters took you to the public pool. It was the first day at your new school and your name was Birdy. When you saw him in the water it felt like you’d been swimming in the deep all your life and been dragged, abruptly, to the surface.
One time when you were little you hit your head. One time when you were young you broke your heart.
You floated aimlessly for a while before walking over to the phone. There were so many things you wanted to say to him but he started talking before you could find the words. He was always braver than you. He would have never jumped, but then and again, you would have never let him get there. Anyway, he said I— my senior wrote this song. I’m gonna play it for you, okay?
He touched your skin right below where you had fallen off the motorbike and cut yourself open, where the blood had begun to dry. He was so worried about you. The water in the shower was running, running, running.
What happened? Where does it hurt?
Only then did you start to cry.
999.
In which year do they fix the world?
In another universe someone sticks their neck out for you the way you did for that other kid. It’s messy, of course. He gets his ass beat for it right along with you but you guys get in a few more good hits too. It’s super worth it. Maybe he’s also— you know. Maybe he isn’t. Doesn’t matter.
Anyway, it’s in the small things. The small thing this random stranger does for you is enough to stop you from ruining the next three decades of your life. It’s absurd, looking back, how easy it was. All he did was say something.
This sets off a chain reaction of random strangers doing small and insignificant things for each other. Maybe five people’s lives are changed. It is revolutionary, though none of them know this. When the thing you are fighting against lives in people’s hearts and grows like a disease, anything you save is a triumph. If you can save anything at all, you celebrate.
In this other universe Zhang Jia Han dials W-A-N-A-N and you dial it back after a period of terrible, but necessary, contemplation. In this other universe you keep going to movie theaters and eating roasted peanuts out of shallow dishes. In this other universe you go back to Taipei.
You go to film school, both of you. You make movies, he writes the songs.
Someone has written this story, I’m sure. Someone fixed the damn motorbike. Maybe you did too, in your dreams, the only place where you could forgive yourself.
But we can’t.
We can write your story, but it has to stay the same.
—.
You’re barreling down a deserted road at the speed of fast. He’s gripping the handles for dear life; you’ve let go. You’re not wearing anything under your suspenders and your sling bag and your voice is hoarse from shouting. His shoulders are shaking with laughter.
“DO YOU LIKE THE COLOR OF MY NEW BIKE?” he shouts.
“IF YOU LIKE IT I DO TOO,” you shout back.
Remember this moment. Remember it when he calls you a year later and plays you the song that will undo you for the rest of your life. Remember it when you graduate, get married, file for divorce, get fired, move to a new city, lose everything.
Remember it when you see him for the first time in three decades and decide that this time you will do things right, because it’s not coming back and it’s not going anywhere: your wild, blemished youth. You were young once and you’ll never be young again. You can start living now, and god, you will But you died once when you were seventeen.
It wasn’t your fault. You searched under every fucking rock and paperweight; you looked for signs in the clouds. But the world failed you. At every juncture in the story, in every scene where someone other than you and A-han was standing there pointing and laughing, it failed you. They were always pointing and laughing at you.
It would have taken so little to change your mind. But even that small, pathetic amount of hope— they couldn’t give it up. You were young once, you were Birdy and A-han and A-han and Birdy, and they let you die.
You lived a subpar life until forty-seven, but at least you lived.
So remember this moment. Look for the laughter lines in his face, the crow’s feet. Notice his old habit of touching the back of his neck when he’s nervous and covering his mouth when he smiles. Remember the feeling of his warm breath on your face, the dim red lights of the KTV room. Remember how it felt when he pulled you out of the water and you emerged, spluttering and coughing into the back of your hand.
"Are you an idiot?" he said, incredulous.
"No," you grinned. "I'm Birdy."
It’s 1987, and you’re unstoppable.
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thevagabondexpress · 2 months ago
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WIP Questions
scrubbing this off @surroundedbypearls because open tag :) you can find her post here. i'll be answering these about my current release, these savage stars, and its sequel, thief of hearts and words.
I. What’s the first part of your WIP that you created? The characters. These Savage Stars and Thief of Hearts and Words started as a joke between a friend of mine and I about myself and some of my own character traits so I started from there and built outwards.
II. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be? Hm. Going off the series playlist, I think probably either "Youth" by Daughter or "Justice" by Bruce Cockburn. Maybe "Atomic City" by U2.
III. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why? Undoubtedly Leena May Loy and Sasha Symborska. Y'all haven't met Sasha yet, he's coming in Book 2 where he and West square off for the right to be the titular "thief." I can explain why his name has a feminine ending if anyone wants though it's probably obvious (he's genderfunky enough to do that because he thinks it sounds better).
IV. What other pieces of media do you think your fanbase would share? I think they would like Six of Crows/Crooked Kingdom, and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. Both of those were major influences on CTOG/Crater of Grace (the overarching universe of which TSS and TOHAW are part). I think they might also like Heidi Heilig's work because our writing styles are similar, and Jules Verne's "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea," though be aware that book is definitely a Product Of Its Time.
V. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP? Making the transition from the (completed) TSS to the work-in-progress TOHAW. There's a distinct tonal shift that happens between the sort of revenge-driven plot of TSS and then TOHAW as the aftermath, as the "oh god what do we do now," where they have to double down and commit to a bit not all of them necessarily want to commit to because it's the only choice they have.
VI. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them! Not really :( Though my personal belief is that kind of far future space opera setting would be far from devoid of animals and there'd definitely be people keeping pets and also just general critters and creatures that stow away and get themselves off-planet for an adventure, I'm just genuinely terrible at writing animal characters specifically remembering they're there (people who've followed me from the TLH fandom will be well aware that I wholly forget Oscar exists all the time). I don't include them so I don't end up with Plot Holes and Mysteries.
VII. How do your characters travel/get around? In space, by starship, and on space stations by walking and taking elevators like you normally would indoors. I'm realizing I'm probably going to need to include some land-travel options in TOHAW. Mostly I imagine they'll walk but I think West will probably have an electrobike and I really liked the ox-bikes or whatever they were called (basically sci-fi rickshaws) from A Psalm For The Wild Built so I might include something similar.
VIII. What part of your WIP are you working on right now? I'm drafting Book 2!
IX. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) you think will draw your audience in? I think the mix of sci-fi and fantasy (faeries in space!) will be the biggest draw. It's niche and going to be a bit of a steep on-ramp for some people but I know others will find the concept interesting enough to see how it's done. Having a nonbinary protagonist will be another one I think, and that we have a good percentage of aromantic characters in it (three out of eleven) and Gadiel and Leena, the only m/f ship, are asexual. It's not a kind of diversity you see often in fiction, I'm writing for my fellows who get sick and tired of not seeing themselves. I imagine also the intrigue plot will draw readers. We've rescued a guy who was kidnapped and doesn't know why and now we've got to find out :)
X. What are your hopes for your WIP? Hm. To get some good comments and not be eighty-five by the time it's done.
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freezethunder · 7 months ago
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Danganronpa ask thing! So many good questions on here. Let's see...
6, 17, & 39. Take your pick or do all three!
6. Do you have a fan character? Tell us about them!
I was going back and forth on if I which character I wanted to do, so I'll just do both of them this time.
First is Micho Auruka, the Ultimate Defense Attorney. Micho is a pretty chill and laid back gal that often gets mistooken for a hobo at times due to her ripped attire unbefitting of a supposed lawyer. Instead of suits and ties, she wears a hoodie and a beanie(that's ripped so her ahoge can fit through). Micho was forced to study professional law by her father, the Chief of Police, and took law and defending pretty well. But due to her being a young girl, she was underestimated by judges and prosecutors alike. So Micho decided that she wouldn't try as much if others wouldn't take her seriously, she was already the smartest person in the room, no need to showboat it, right? This led to her making a devastating mistake in her career, one she dreads thinking about each and every day. Micho is like a big sister to most of her classmates and friends; she's kind, helpful, optimistic, and holds a strong sense of belief in others.
Next is my fankid, Sayuri Hinata, the Ultimate Lucky Student. Initially Sayuri was the Ultimate Friend many years back, but I changed that relatively recently. Sayuri is Hajime and Chiaki's firstborn daughter, she's fun and cheerful and loves to help her friends whenever possible. So much so that she's unsure of what she wants to do with her own life a lot of the time. Sayuri also doesn't have an ahoge funnily enough and is often jealous when her friends have one but not her(she just can't make it stick), luckily her ponytail does all the emoting things too to make up for that.
17. List five headcanons for your favorite characters!
Oh man, we're gonna be here a while...
Hajime Hinata:
-Hajime used to like magic when he was a kid
-Hajime takes care of the neighborhood cat. He's tried taking it in but it always finds a way out, and yet still comes back to him for food.
-Hajime likes swords and imagines dual wielding them.
-Hajime sometimes feels insecure about his body at the beach and wears a T-Shirt or a tanktop when he's not going in the water.
-Daddy issues...and mommy issues...
Chiaki Nanami
-Chiaki plays so much that she forgets to eat and is therefore underweight
-Chiaki doesn't know how to swim and learned from Hajime and her classmates on a beach trip.
-She's cousins with Chihiro Fujisaki and that's why Chihiro and Alter Ego designed her that way.
-Chiaki can play some games in her sleep. Like those biking games at the arcades, her body just moves on it's own.
-Chiaki has her own let's play channel and twitch streaming account.
Miaya Gekkogahara
-I like to imagine that she's related to Monaca in some way. Probably her aunt
-She can talk, it's just that her voice is very low and soft.
-She sometimes talks like Usami, saying "Love Love" frequently
-Miaya likes to give gold stars to some of her children clients that do good in their respective sessions.
-She owns...so many bunny plushies
Kaede Akamatsu
-(This one is post-DR3)She got into an accident with Headmaster Naegi's car and literally begged to be punished because she felt so bad about it.
-When helping Shuichi out at crime scenes, she has a bubble blower that's supposed to be like a gag on cigarettes. She even uses Sherlock Holmes novels words and phrases in an effort to make herself sound smarter.
-She was the pianist for many of the other character's weddings. Makoto and Kyoko. Komaru and Touko. Fuyuhiko and Peko. Even her classmates'.
-And in one such occasion her car was towed while she was in the middle of a song.
-Kaede's favorite fruit is strawberries I imagine.
39. Which character do you feel deserves more love?
Miaya Gekkogahara. Look...I know she basically doesn't talk, and by all accounts in the DR3 anime we never get to see the real her, but c'mooooon! An Ultimate Therapist that helped made the NWP in the second game, and her design is cute as hell! We need more Miaya in our lives. Something, anything, I'm begging over here!
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littlebunnygold · 2 years ago
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Meet Me At Our Spot (JJ Maybank x Reader)
Pt. One
summary: after JJ takes the fall for sinking toppers boat, he returns to his friends in a worse state than anyone thought. 
warnings: swearing, physical abuse, talks of abuse, yelling, sad stuff:(
word count: 2.0k
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PSA: If anybody is going through domestic/any kind of abuse, this may be triggering. If you need or want to talk, visit this website: Together We Are Strong 
You sit down on the cold and rough sandy surface, shivering as the breeze pushes your hair out of your face. You look into the darkness surrounding you and listen to the waves crashing in the distance. Something about the darkness of the night always seemed to calm you, nothing but the stars, the moon and you. Nothing else is around to disturb you. You always go to this spot on the beach when you’re feeling overwhelmed or stressed, it became your spot. You take a heavy breath that goes all the way to the bottom of your belly and exhale slowly, deciding now is as good a time as ever to smoke a joint. You dig into your bag to find the container of pre-rolls your boyfriend made for you, he always insisted for you to ‘always be prepared for a good time’. Tears started welling up in your eyes as you could feel the bruise on your face get darker. You're holding the joint in between your chapped lips as you look through your bag for a lighter, lighting the joint as you inhale deeply, exhaling with ease. You can’t stop yourself from thinking about the events that had happened just a few hours ago...
~earlier that day~
You paced around the living room of the Chateau twisting your hair between your fingers while you watched your friends sit on the couch, “Y/n, I know you're stressed out but I promise you he’ll be fine” John B said as he looked at you with worrying eyes. You couldn’t tell if he was saying that to make you feel better or himself, “No, it’s not okay! He’s gonna get the shit beat out of him!” you said, raising your voice. JJ went to jail for taking the fall for Pope ruining Toppers boat. Although Topper did deserve it, now your boyfriend had a 30 thousand dollar restitution over his head and you could only imagine how his dad is reacting. Everybody knew how JJ’s dad treated him, and knew how abusive he could be over every little thing. The alcohol and drug addiction certainly didn't help with his anger.
“Have you called him? Or heard anything from him?” Pope asked, standing up and grabbing a bottle of water. You shake your head in response, trying to think of what you could do, “I’m going to his place” you said leaving the living room and going into the guest room which had most of JJ’s clothes in it. He basically claimed the guest room as his own. You grabbed a hoodie and walked back out to the living room to grab your keys, “No way! That's way too dangerous you don’t even know what’s going on over there, you could get hurt” Kie chimed in after sitting there in silence, trying to think of else you could do, “Do you have any other ideas, Kie?” you yelled, turning to face the girl, “Do any of you, for that matter? Didn’t think so. I’m going to check on him, I need to make sure he’s okay” you looked at your friends, flailing your arms as you spoke. You were so worried for JJ you didn't care if Luke got mad at you for being at his house.
Just as you are about to slip on your running shoes you hear the familiar sound of JJ’s dirt bike pull up in front of the house and you instantly feel relief wash over you entire body. Thank God he was here. The door opens and as you look him up and down, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach. Your beautiful boyfriend was covered in bruises, his lip was busted and bleeding as well as the gash on his eyebrow. You can feel the tears in your eyes when you go in to hug JJ, “Are you okay?” you whisper into his chest as he embraces the hug and wraps his arms around your body, “Yeah baby, I’m good” he says while exhaling. JJ has never been one to be honest with how he feels, and he’ll go to any extent to not feel pitied, especially by you and his friends.
After a few seconds, you pull away and look up at JJ, not knowing what to say. When you look into his eyes, you can see they’re rimmed with red, and puffy like he had been crying. But the thing that shook you the most was the look in his eyes, they didn’t have the same sparkle and love in them like they usually do. You turn back to glance at your friends, they all stood behind you, eyes fixed on JJ, until he breaks the silence, “Guys, I’m fine for real okay? Stop looking at me like I got two fucking heads” he said and huffed, “I’m tired. I’m gonna go crash” he spoke quietly and pushed past everybody to head towards his room. Kie sighed and sat back down on the couch, followed by John B. “Are you gonna go talk to him?” Pope said with sad eyes. You could tell he was blaming himself for what happened. You nodded and looked at the others, “Goodnight” you said and waved your arm up. They all wished you goodnight as you headed for the bedroom.
You knocked on the door softly, and slowly opened it to find JJ sitting at the end of the bed with his head in his hands. You couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or holding back tears... or both, “Oh baby” you said and made your way over to where he was sitting and sat down beside him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “Please talk to me, are you okay?” you spoke quietly but he quickly pushed you off of him and stood up, “Dammit Y/n, I said I don't wanna talk about it what do you not fucking understand!” he raised his voice and threw his arms up with his back turned to you. You sat on his bed in shock.
JJ had a temper, and you knew that. The two of you had gotten into your fair-share of arguments before, but this felt different. You had never seen him like this before. Normally, you make him feel more calm and safe than he's ever felt in his life. He knew that, and so did everybody else. So him lashing out at you was concerning, for you and him.
“I’m sorry J, I’m just trying to help” you said, still sitting on the bed, staring at the back of his head. He spun around and you saw how dark his bruises had gotten and how sad his eyed looked, “I don't need your fucking help Y/n! Why are you not listening to me?! I don't need your help, I'm not a fucking baby!” he yelled at you, “I-I know, I’m sorry, okay? I’m just worried about you” you said softly, standing up and taking a step closer to him. You reached your hand out to touch his cheek but he swatted it away, “Well stop being worried about me, alright? I don't need you to worry about me. You’ve never been able to help before, what could you possibly do now?” he said, looking right into your eyes.
You could feel your heart breaking in your chest, did he really feel this way about you? Before you could think more about what he said you started talking, “I don’t know why you’re lashing out at me, J, I’m just trying to help” you said and sat back down on the bed looking at your feet, “I think you should go” he said sternly, when you looked up at him he was already staring back down at you, “You can’t just push me away, not when you come home looking like this” you spoke while standing up, gesturing to the bruises on his face, “I love you so much, I’m not leaving you when you need me” you said.
You took another step closer to him, but he pushed you back. He’s never laid a hand on you before, never like that. You stumbled back into the dresser and looked up at him, “I don't need you here!” he yelled, walking closer to you and getting in your face, with tears in his eyes, “Just leave me the fuck alone!” he continued screaming. By that point you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. He never acts like this, never this mean. You had never been scared of JJ before in your life, but right now... you didn’t even recognize him.
“J-” you start, making eye contact with your boyfriend, seeing how dark his eyes have become. You weren’t looking at your loving and caring boyfriend right now. You were looking at a stranger, “Okay, I’ll give you-” you spoke, until you felt a hard slap to your cheek. Powerful enough to make you fall to the ground.
You lay there for what feels like forever, cheek stinging like it never has before and tears leaving your eyes without your control. You can barely comprehend or understand anything, you are just in shock.
Your boyfriend just hit you.
You slowly start to get back to normal and can see JJ kneeling next to you holding your hand and repeating himself, “Oh my god Y/n I am so fucking sorry, I don't know what came over me. Holy shit, I am so sorry baby are you okay?” he says. But you can't answer. You can't speak. You push him off of you and stand up heading for the door, “Baby please” he says trailing behind you when you open the bedroom door and head to the living room where the rest of the Pogues are, “Woah, what happened” John B said while standing up, taking a quick glance and the tears in your eyes and your hand cradling you cheek. You didn't answer him, you didn’t even look at them. You opened the front door and left the Chateau, ignoring JJ calling your name from behind you. When you got outside you started running, trying to get rid of the sobs threatening to escape your mouth. You didn't know where you were going but you knew you had to run.
“What the fuck just happened?” Kie asked JJ in a worried tone. He stayed quiet, not being able to keep his eyes off the door you just ran out of, “I.. I-I just.. hit her” he said as tears slid down his face. Everybody gasped and looked at JJ in shock, “What?!” Kie raised her voice at him. He couldn't even blame her. He can't believe what he had just done. After being abused his whole life he was starting to treat the only person he's ever loved the way his dad treats him, “I don't know what happened, she just kept asking me about my dad and I was getting annoyed and overwhelmed I wasn't even thinking!” he yelled while running his hands through his blond hair, “I didn't even know I was capable of doing that” he trailed off as he slowly started to collapse to the ground and began to sob.
Everything was hitting him at once, every emotion inside was finally taking over him. His dad using him as a punching bag, his mom being a deadbeat, all of the money he owed for sinking the boat, and how he had just ruined the only thing that truly mattered to him.
Everybody stood there for a couple of seconds not knowing what to say or do, they've never seen JJ break down like this. Kie made her way over to him and crouched down beside him to hug him, John B and Pope followed. As the four of them hugged on the ground JJ couldn’t stop himself from sobbing, “It’ll be okay J, I promise. Just give her some time” Kie said while rubbing his back.
Soon after JJ headed back into his room where he sobbed even more, the look on your face after he hit you replaying in his mind over and over again. ‘She was just trying to help,’ he thought. How could he have done this? And could you ever forgive him?
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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years ago
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It’s Just a Movie: Part 25 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)
<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->
Warnings: slight angst, violence
Word Count: 3613
School has started for me!! I was able to get the past couple of chapters out despite the first days, but with a work/school combo I’m gonna have zero time to write!! Basically, the next (and final chapters) are gonna be slower to get uploaded, but they’ll get posted soon!!!
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You couldn't believe this was happening. Never in your life did you think you'd be in this situation in the first place, but you never thought that you'd be leading the Frogs and the Emerson's down into the cave either. You had made an agreement before you'd even parked Paul's bike. You weren't there to fight, you were there to talk. The Frogs, and Michael, wouldn't believe what you said until they heard it from the boys themselves. No matter how much you tried to convince them. This definitely wasn't part of the plan, but it was better than the ones the Frogs wanted to go with. You saw them clamor out of the car, and then Edgar grabbed Alan. He said,
"Weapons check." And then he was twirling his brother around to grab his pack and check him. You walked over, and grabbed Edgar, and Alan, by the back of his pack, saying,
"Woah, you are not going down there with those stakes." You knew that, peace talk or not, the boys would freak the second they saw the stakes. Especially Marko. The last thing you needed was the boys seeing that the first second they woke up. It'd be a bloodbath, and it'd be hard to defend the boys' case after that. It was Edgar that said,
"Then, we're not going down there at all." And Alan was quick to second him,
"For all we know, this could be an ambush. We are not going into enemy territory unarmed." And you fought the urge to roll your eyes from all the military talk. You sighed, defeated, and looked over when you heard Michael say,
"I don't want you going down there." Sam had already helped him out of the car, and a piece of you softened when you heard Sam reply,
"Well, I'm going." You knew, horror movie or not, their relationship was the backbone of the movie. None of this would be happened if they didn't care about eachother as much as they did, and you didn't interrupt as Michael said,
"Look, this isn't a comic book, Sam. These guys are brutal killers." And you felt the urge to almost agree with him. They were, but, as far as they knew, they wouldn't be if they killed Max. Sam quickly replied,
"So are the Frog brothers." And you looked at the two little brunettes. You watched as Edgar said,
"Check me." And Alan immediately went for the stakes. You scratched the back of your neck. As goofy as they seemed, you knew, unfortunately, that was true. But, you also knew that you weren't going to let it happen. Not this time.
"Look, who would you rather go down there with? Them or me?" To you, it was an easy choice. It seemed like this was the only thing you and Michael could agree on.
"If something happens down there, I'm not gonna have the strength to protect you." And you swallowed. You knew what line was coming, and you had to stop yourself from saying something about it.
"Well, this time I'm gonna protect you, bud. Even though you're a vampire, you're still my brother." You turned away, trying not to let the words affect you. Sam was a sweet kid, and, while you loved your boys, you weren't going to let them do anything to him. And, if you could help it, the Frogs. You looked back and snatched the knife from Edgar's hands.
"Wave this around, and I'm not gonna be able to stop the boys from making assumptions. Keep your stuff in your pack, and stay behind me. Got it?" You told them, and the brothers looked between eachother. They didn't seem pleased to be taking orders from you, and you sighed again as you decided to pocket the blade instead of giving it back to the boy. Really, they shouldn't even have this many knives anyways. You thought. You were going to need to come up with a good explanation for this, or else the Frogs weren't going to be the only ones getting chewed out. You let Edgar turn to Michael and say,
"Listen, just so you know, if you try to turn on us," He said, directly pointing at you. "Or vamp out in any way, then I'll stake you without even thinking twice about it." He said, his finger directed towards Michael this time. He added, "Both of you." And you frowned at the boy. You noted the change in dialogue, but you supposed it was a good sign. You were changing things, changing the movie. Hopefully that meant you'd changed enough to guarantee the boys' safety. But you knew that if he went around making threats like that, the boys were going to give him something to worry about. It was Sam that said,
"Chill out, Edgar." And you agreed. Everyone was going to need to chill, or else this was going to go sideways fast. 
"Yeah. C'mon." Edgar said. As you followed the Frogs down the steps, you heard Michael say,
"Where'd you say you met these guys?" And you tried to keep up with the brothers in front of you. The Frogs were supposed to lead you down into the cave, but you quickly slipped past them. You hopped down the stairs with ease, having months of practice navigating the creaking, falling apart stairway. When you went to the cave, you walked in it as one would walk in their own house. 
"Holy shit!" Edgar exclaimed, and you didn't comment. That was pretty much everyone's reaction, even yours.
"Vampire hotel." Alan commented, and you rolled your eyes as you walked ahead of them. As soon as the Frogs saw Star, you knew what was coming. You tried to grab them each by the back of their packs, but Edgar was already saying,
"Here's one. C'mon, let's stake her, man!" Michael had already seen the way they'd rushed for her, and he quickly tried his best to protect her in his weakened state.
"Don't you touch her!" He shouted, and the boys slapped away your hands. You let them go as Edgar said,
"C'mon. Vampires have such rotten tempers." And, they were running off. They ran around like two excited kids in a candy store, seeming to forget the object of their mission as soon as they were confronted with their threat. It seemed that getting them off course was going to be harder than you thought, and you quickly put two fingers in your mouth to let out a loud whistle. Like a pair of excited puppies, their heads snapped towards you. You could hear Star murmuring behind you, but you didn't know if it was your whistle or Michael that had awoken her.
"You two! Sit down over there and stay put. Sam," You said, turning towards him. You noticed that Michael was already going for Laddie, aiming to get him out of the cave after Star told him to. While you were here to talk, you didn't imagine the boys would be too upset if the two half's were gone. Well, at least, most of them wouldn't. "Watch them, okay? I'm gonna get the boys-"
"I'm coming with you." Sam quickly said, and you found a small smile developing on your face. He looked so earnest. So willing to protect. You reached out to touch his shoulder, lowering your voice. "I know you want to, Sam, but I need you to keep an eye on the Frogs, okay? If they follow me, I could be in deep shit." You told him, and, in a second, his face seemed to change. He understood what you were trying to suggest, quickly nodding. You had figured out that they apparently thought worse of your boys, way worse than you'd ever intended, but, if it helped, you were going to play into it. Plus, you did need to talk to the boys alone. 
You walked through the halls of the cave, slipping into a hallway different than the ones the boys had taken in the movie. You wandered around for a bit, listening for the sound of footsteps and purposely taking a few wrong turns just so you'd have to double back and would bump into the boys if they'd decided to follow you. You finally went to the cave where the boys slept, and you looked up to see them hanging from the ceiling. The five of you had talked about them sleeping in your room instead, but you'd pointed out that them being on the floor would make them far too easy targets. So, their room really was the best bet when it came to keeping themselves safe. The only suggestion you'd made was that they all gathered away from the ladder. Then, there'd be no way the Frogs could reach them. They seemed to have listened, and Paul had even taken Markos place as the closest to the ladder. Even then, he was still out of arms reach. You sighed, tapping your foot as you tried to think about how you'd get them down. Touching the boys was the only real way to wake them up, as they were all deep sleepers. You guessed vampirism had that as a side-effect. You cringed as you thought of one way you could wake them up, but you didn't hesitate to reach into your bag for the knife you'd swiped from Edgar. You decided on a small cut to the tip of your finger. It took a moment, but, the second the smell of blood hit them, you knew. Paul's eyes were the first to flick open, and he reached for the blonde besides him. As soon as Marko was awake, and they all knew it wasn't him that was bleeding, Paul fell from the railing. He grabbed your finger, bringing it to his mouth as he quickly said,
"What'd you do this for?" He licked the blood trailing down your finger and sucked on the wound for a moment, while the others fell from the railing in a circle around you. You answered with a,
"Well, I figured this would wake you up." And he hummed around the cut. You'd been right. Blood was a sure-fire way to get any of them to wake up. They seemed confused, but relieved. You weren't screaming, yelling, warning them that the Frogs were coming. Marko was bouncing on the balls of his feet, a smile growing on his face. He wasn't laying on the floor with a stake out of his chest. As far as they knew, it had worked. 
"What happened?" David asked, and you nearly had to yank your finger away from Paul when you felt the graze of teeth. He gave you a teasing smile, and you looked at the platinum haired blonde to do the same. A smile you only used when you were trying to get him to consider something. He narrowed his eyes.
"Well-" You started, but Marko grabbed your arm. He stopped you, and his eyes flicked towards the entrance. You took an inhale, and you mentally said, Shit. 
"They followed you." He said, his voice hollow and his eyes wide. You could see a speck of fear in his eyes, replacing the relief,  and you had to grab Paul before he went to do anything stupid, like try to walk into sunlight. They had a look in their eyes that you'd, luckily, never had to see before. Well, at least, in real life. You recognized it from the opening scene, when David had looked ready to kill that surf nazi. And again when he'd tried to grab Sam. And when Paul had tried to kill the Frogs. And when Dwayne has grabbed Sam. Hell, perhaps you'd seen it more than you thought. 
"I went to the Emerson's, and I brought them here-" You started, but that was as far as you got before David snapped,
"You what?" He asked, and you internally cringed at the tone of voice and how the room shook from the loudness of his voice. Yeah, you were in trouble. Rightfully so when you saw the look of betrayal in the shortest boys eyes. They moved for a second, and you already knew what they were thinking. You had betrayed them. Sold them out. You were going to kill them. Before they could do anything rash, you said,
"I told them that you want Max gone. It was the only way to get them to stand down, and they're here to talk." You said, and the boys stared at you in shock. You went silent, refusing to tell them anything else that may dig your grave any deeper. They stared at you, and David looked like he was about to have an aneurysm for a moment. He was pissed. But he was silent, and you could see that he was thinking.
"They're here to...talk?" David asked, disbelief clear in his voice, and you nodded. The boys stood behind him, flanking him. If it had been your first couple of days in their world, you would've been terrified. But you knew your boys, and you knew that they, at least, wouldn't do anything without David's word. "All of them?" David asked, and you nodded. Then, quickly, you corrected yourself.
"Michael is still taking Star and Laddie up to the car, but Sam and the Frogs…" You said, letting yourself trail off. They were silent, obviously not willing to fill up the silence for you. Even when you casted a glance over to Dwayne, who was seeming to try his best not to be effected by the inevitable. "They just wanna hear it from you. I told them what we planned, the whole turning back to a human thing, but Michael wasn't convinced. He thought that you guys had to be lying or have some sort of ulterior motive so- So, I gave them one." You said. The one time you needed to bank on Michael being stupid, he hadn’t been. So, you’d told him something closer to the truth. They did want their father-figure gone, just not for the same reason why. They wanted him gone because they hated him, despised him. The others thought they wanted him gone because he'd turned them, which was true, and because it would turn them back into being human. "They just wanna hear that you won't try to stop them from killing Max." You said, trying to get rid of the silence once more. All of the boys were quiet, and they were exchanging glances. You guessed that they were either waiting for David to decide, or if they were somehow communicating without you. You knew that you were just supposed to correct them and push them in the right direction, but, even then, would that have worked? What would've stopped them from hunting the boys down after they killed their sire? If anything, this was the best course of action, and you forced yourself to believe that. Finally, after a moment, David said,
"Where are they?" You had to bring the Frogs, and Sam, back into the cave simply because of the sunlight pouring inside the main room. You'd found them snooping around the cave, and you had to tell them to put down Dwayne's skateboard. You hated it, leading the boys through the tunnels that you knew so well. Leading them straight to the boys. To where they slept. Your mind replayed the look of betrayal you'd seen so clearly in Markos eyes. It made every step feel like you were trudging through wet concrete. But this was how things had to happen, and this was the only way to save them. Hopefully, it would save them. 
For a moment, you considered the fact that, maybe, despite agreeing not to, you may be leading the boys behind you to their deaths. It made a lump develop in your throat, and you prayed to whatever god you could think of that everything would turn out fine. You took them into the room, where the boys were standing near the far wall of the cave. The room was cramped, but you had long ago gotten used to the smell. Your boys towered over Sam and the Frogs, even if the tallest of the bunch, Dwayne, was leaning against the cave wall with his arms crossed. Paul was standing partially in front of Marko, the two huddled as far away as they could get. David stood away from the wall, the closest to the humans. Almost acting as a block. He glared down at the Frogs, then at Sam. Finally, his eyes shifted to you. "Well?" He asked. He didn't sound happy. He sounded almost antsy. Impatient. As if he wanted this over with. You didn't blame him.
The whole thing seemed to go by in a blur. Threats had been thrown on both sides, and you'd had to toss yourself in the middle of an altercation more than once. Edgar had muttered something about staking you for being a "traitor to your race" when you'd asked if they trusted you, and Paul had nearly exploded. He was practically vibrating as you pushed back on his chest, shouting to get his attention and to get him to calm down. You hadn't even noticed that Dwayne had already grabbed Edgar, and was holding him by his shirt until you heard the young boy start to yell. You'd managed to tear the boy out of his hands and you'd ended up screaming at both parties to knock it off. Finally, it was decided that most of the boys couldn't handle this sort of confrontation. So, the Frogs were put on timeout on one side of the inner cave, with three of your boys on the other. David and Sam stood in the middle, with you besides them to act as neutral ground. Well, as neutral as you could be. 
"So, if we kill Max, you'll go back to being human?" Sam asked, and you heard a murmur from behind him. Your head snapped to the Frogs, fire behind your eyes that got them to zip it for at least a moment. David replied,
"That's what we think." He said, and Sam furrowed his brow. That wasn't what you told them, but, David knew that lying to them completely wouldn't be well received when Max was dead. But, if they didn't know for sure, that was a different story. Plus, the look you gave him after he said it was definitely helping him sell it. From behind him, Edgar said,
"That's not good enough." But, this time, it was a snarling growl that shut them up. It had come from the smallest of the boys. Marko looked completely on edge and ready to snap. You supposed he would be, since Edgar had been the one to kill him. Sam looked over his shoulder, whispering,
"Cool it, Edgar." And you had to hand it to the kid. While he was obviously scared shitless, he seemed to be the most reasonable of the three. And the most gullible. After another moment, he said, "Even if you don't, you swear not to try to kill us? Or stop us from killing Max?" And David almost looked amused. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he glanced at you for a moment. He, now that he'd had a moment to process, seemed to find this situation weirdly hilarious. Or, maybe, it was just Sam.  "Well?" Sam pressed, copying what David has asked in the beginning of their talk. David said,
"We swear. Cross my heart and hope to get staked." He even did the motion of crossing his heart. From behind, you could hear Alan mumbling,
"Oh, you will." And you were this close to letting the boys have free range. You didn't say anything, not when David opened his mouth again to speak,
"But, you have to swear that you won't come after us. Even if we don't get turned back." He said, and an eruption of protests were heard from the Frogs. They were silenced by a single glare from David, who's face shifted into one of a monster. You could tell it scared the boys half to death, to the point where they both seemed to fall back against the wall. He changed his face back before he glanced back at the youngest Emerson. Sam had nearly fallen back, but you'd caught him by the arm. It took him a minute to steady himself and find his voice, and he straightened his blue cardigan sweater right before he said,
"You'll leave us alone? Mike alone?" Sam asked, and you watched the way David's face softened for a moment. It seemed that he had the same effect on him that he had on you. David gave him a nod, and then Sam sighed. He held out his hand, saying, "Deal." And, despite the Frogs protests, David was quick to take it. They shook on it, and then David's eyes lifted to the Frogs. He spoke again, saying,
"So, how are you going to kill him?" And Sam was quick to give up the information that his mother had a date with him that night. Tonight seemed as good as a night as any to get it over with. When Alan sarcastically asked,
"Why, you have any ideas?" David smiled. It was handsome, as handsome as the first smile he'd given you. Though, it seemed to have a chilling effect on the younger boys trapped with them in the cave. David's voice was almost charming as he said,
"We have a few."
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bluebellhairpin · 4 years ago
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( Notice: OKAY - The pic there says ‘The Hobbit/LOTR’ but for times sake, and my own sanity, there is none listed thus-far (same goes for the ‘other’ category’). Merci for understanding! )
So I’ve been meaning to do this for a while, and I already have a blog for it ( @nemosrepost ) but that doesn’t get too much attention. Thus, here we are! 
(This was a nightmare to get done - it took weeks to get all the links and pics done up in my spare time - I hope you appreciate that.) 
They’re all sorts here, from Medieval Marvel AU’S, to Modern Attack on Titan one shots. They’re all organised via fandom, and I’ve tried my best to link and tag everything properly, but that is a difficult feat, so beware - for some it may not have worked too well.
Like my *actual* masterlist, this will be updated regularly with new fic recs, and even new characters and fandoms as I read them. All fic’s currently listed (as of November 26, 2020) are found on my reblog account. 
I’ve also tried to add in a ‘recommendation summary’ thing of each - so basically just my thoughts on the fic(s). But anyway, have fun browsing, and overall - enjoy! 
(AND also - LMAOOOO - Have fun scrolling lololololol!) - Nemo
( Pre - Warning: I am not tagging anything as NSWF, 18+, or triggering content. However some fics listed do contain such material. Please refer to the warnings or Authors Notes on each Fic before reading. Stay safe guys! I love you! ) 
Bluebellhairpin’s Masterlist 
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Bucky Barnes
Knight in Rusty Armour - Medieval / A/B/O AU! Series - by @revengingbarnes Honestly I binged the first eight chapters (+ prologue) in close to one sitting. That was mostly because that was all that was published at the time. It is completed now. I love both these AU’s, and I love Bucky - win, win! 
Flowers Bloom - Soulmate AU! Series - by revengingbarnes  Another great series, and honestly I’m a slut for soulmate au’s, so this author might be coming after my heart - keep up that good work, if you know what I mean. 
The Great Build Up - Modern / Firefighter Au! One Shot - by @thottybarnes  This ones goes from cute, to hot and steamy, to angsty, and back to cute again. A one shot rollercoaster, and I thoroughly enjoyed every word of it. 
Maybe This Time - Mob Au! One Shot - by @propertyofpoeandbucky Okay, so if there’s one thing I like more than an mobster au, it’s adding children into the mix. Something about big bad guys going all soft for this tiny human - and then making them - and that’s called perfection. 
Whatever It Takes - Biker AU! One Shot - by @sgtjbuccky He like’s to be loud, so what. He rides a bike, so what. I what to ride him and his bike, so what. 
(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @softlybarnes  I’ve never liked Bucky’s metal arm more in my entire life. Using it for a baby going through teething? A+ idea. 
Hero, Waiting - Medieval AU! One Shot -  by captain-ariel-barnes Sadly, this fic is unavailable now, and that - obviously - makes me sad. But I’m adding it her anyway because of how much I adored it. The love triangle between Bucky, Reader, and Steve was amazing, and the feelings? Phenomenal. 
Steve Rogers
If Walls Could Talk - One Shot - by propertyofpoeandbucky  I’ll recreate my original comment on this fic - ‘Ouch’. And that’s all I have to say about that. 
The End of the War - College AU! One Shot - by @redgillan There’s nothing quite like a enemies to lovers trope that’s well-written. But then throw in fight club, a jerk date, ice-cream and pizza - just read it. You’ll understand then. 
The Edge of the Water - Mermaid AU! Series - @floatingpetals I have to admit now, I haven’t read all of this yet. But I also have to say, what I have read was fantastic. Mermaids - and Mermen - they just hit different, you know? 
Pseudo Princess - Medieval AU! Series - by @shreddedparchment​ To date, it’s one of the best fics - nay - stories I’ve ever read. I’d dare to say it’s easily the length of a novel, so if you’re up for the long haul, I’d definitely recommend it. It’s worth the wait - trust me. Op obviously put a hella lot of work into it, and it shows. 
Loki Laufeyson
Loki’s Happy Ending - Series (?) - by @gingerwritess  Listen, I have been and forever will be a Loki girl. Nothing will change that. And every scrap of content Theo produces for Loki I will cradle in my palms and keep warm until they’re ready to go out into the world or whatever - point is, read this. 
Just One Quick Glance - One Shot - by @imagines-trashcan  After watching ‘Endgame’, and squealing at every moment Loki appeared on screen, only to not have him show up in the final battle - this was one of my comfort fics. 
thunderstorms. - One Shot - by @tarynkauai Naturally, Loki’s child would inherit his unease of thunderstorms. And naturally, seeing Loki as a dad makes me happy. 
Stitches - One Shot - by @lokibug​  Loki being nice. I like that. We stan. 
Quentin Beck 
The Curveball - One Shot - by @healingchurch​  Listen, this is on here for a reason. I didn’t really like Mysterio ‘cause of what he did to Peter, but hey, some people are good actors, and some write characters acting very well. 
Stephen Strange 
(Un-Named) - Imagine / One Shot - by @archieimagines​ A cocky bastard and a shy Reader, as far as I’m concerned that a one-way ticket straight to my heart. *wink wonk*.
(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @whirlybirbs​  Honestly, there are multiple fics of hers on this list, and that’s because she’s a damn fine writer, and her stories are just that addictive. This one is no different. I was preparing to read more and then it ended. But all good things, right?
Crash and Burn - One Shot - by @lilyswritings​  The angst, and the angst. I cry, you cry, everyone cries. Unfortunately there is only the one part, but much to my personal joy that means I can interpret the after-ending however I want! 
Frank Castle
(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @alexsunmners​ This is just cute okay? I have no other words except this was plain and simply very, very, very nice to read, and that it makes me feel very soft right here on the inside. 
Peter Parker
Super Smooth Genius - One Shot (?) - by whirlybirbs  Back at it again with the cute, awkward, friendly, neighbourhood, Peter Parker. 
Just Don’t - Soulmate AU! One Shot - by @papel-creativo​ What’d I tell you about soulmate au’s? I can’t resist them. And of course Pete being a caring bf with his hero s/o. So nice. 
Ronan the Accuser 
Make You Proud - One Shot - by @kayleighhalliday2203​ This is justifiable because I was going through a Lee Pace faze and I found it and loved it immediately. 
Ultron
(Un-Named) - One Shot / Series - by @snarky-badger​ This I can also justify having read, because (and if you know me then you know) the robot thing ... Doesn’t bother me as much as it should. And I binged all of it on ao3, so. 
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Poe Dameron
(Un-Named) - Masterlist - by propertyofpoeandbucky Okay, I know there’s a lot on this list, and it could take you a while to get through it all, but trust me - it’s worth it. Lani likes Poe, and it shows. He’s written so well. 
Dashing - One Shot / Series ? - by whirlybirbs Birbs does it again. She’s got Punchy!Reader, and if there were a legal way to get all of this Poe thing down into a written book, I’d do it. 
You Can See Me? - Modern / Ghost AU! One Shot - by @tintinwrites​ I just this this one’s really cool. And what Poe does for the reader at the end? So sweet! He would totally do that! 
Across the Hall - Modern / Nurse AU! Series - by @starryeyedstories​  It’s cute, it’s fun, it’s got tension, and a little drama - plus a smidge of angst and Corgi!BB-8. If perfection were ever made into a Modern/Nurse au Poe fic - this would be it. 
Deepest, Lightest Secrets - One Shot - by @writefightandflightclub​  It’s got the humour and overall feel  you’d expect to come from something Star Wars related - honestly I had so much fun reading it, and I’ll happily do it again. 
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Levi Ackerman
Names for Him & You - One Shot - by @commanderserwin​ Again, op is one of my main sources for fic’s in this area - so there could be quite a few of them listed here. But this one? Cute as heck. 
Levi’s Secret - Modern AU! One Shot - by @theamberwriter​ This one was damn funny in my opinion. Nothing can ever be hidden from Hange for long. 
You Look So Beautiful In White - Modern AU! One Shot - by @alrightberries​ This fic, it carved out my heart, diced it, shoved it in a blender, then made it into an atomic bomb. I - I was not okay. That amount of angst shouldn’t be allowed. Read it. 
Abeille - Modern / Mafia AU! Series - by @ackermans-freedom-inc​ Honestly, this isn’t finished yet but, honestly, I’m not ready for it to finish. The heartache. The betrayal. The child. I can’t even. 
Lights - Modern AU! One Shot - by commanderserwin This was the first fic I ever read of op’s, and I couldn’t believe what I read so I went back and read it again. I can’t tell you how much I love it, or how I feel about it, so just go read for yourself and you’ll know. 
To Build a Home - Modern AU! Series - by @vennilavee​ If you’re a fan of Levi, you must go read this. It’s so detailed, and just so perfect - whenever a new part comes out I have a quick reboot before going to read it. 
Erwin Smith
One of Us - Modern AU! Miniseries - by commanderserwin I’m not going to lie, this one is here because I requested it, but also because I really liked it, and cried while reading it. So there. 
Reiner Braun
Service to the Crown - Medieval AU! Miniseries - by @present-mel​ It should probably be illegal to write Reiner or Medieval au’s this well, and yet here op is writing both. Like, McScuse me, where do you acquire such talent and can I have some? 
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Toshinori Yagi
Flirting with All Might - One Shot - by @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten​ Toshi. The great. The hero. The awkward. He’s a blond boy doing what blond boys do even if he’s a little older he’s still part of the crew.
Stitches - Villain AU / Mini Series - by @itsallmightbitch​  Okay, so I said above that I wouldn’t put warnings on these - but this time I have to. Nothing I’ve read in my whole life emmits such an amount of pure horniness - and I love it. 
Godless - Fantasy AU / One Shot - by @pleasantanathema​  Another ‘All Smite’ fic, yes, I know. But god. They’re so good. This one is another real horny one, so if you can’t tell there is a slight theme running here. And - sksksksks - this is actually from the same ‘general area’ as the Reiner fic listed above (Service to the Crown). There was a event. I read everything. 
Keigo Takami
Preening - One Shot - by @shoutaaizawas​ Literally the softest and cutest damned thing I’ve read for Keigo. No, I’m not just ‘saying’ that, it’s genuine. The feelings I get - or lack thereof due to them turning to mush - it too much for words. Honest. 
Seasonal Special - One Shot - by @keiqos​ I’ll say this now and I’ll say it first - any Hawks fics written by op are *chefs kiss*. They’re amazing. Secondly, rut!Hawks is my weakness - this fic is one of such weaknesses. 
Shouto Aizawa
(Un-Named) - Series - by @theamberwriter​ This is *technically* the second part in the series, but it’s the only part I’ve read and goddamnit, I’m in love. Hubby Aizawa. The disappearing Baby-Zawa. 
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I Miss You Texts - SMAU - Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou, Nishinoya Yuu - by @briswriting​ I miss them too. They ain’t dead. I just feel like I haven’t seen them in so long.  
Little Things - Headcanons - Karasuno - by @haikyuudreaming​ Every single one makes me feel so nostalgic, and I feel so much longing. I love. I loose. I pine. I want. And yet I cannot have. I only dream.  
Cheerleader - Headcanons - Karasuno - by @imagine-101​  I want to be their cheerleader. Now I am able to be. Op, many thanks for the feeding. 
Tsukishima Kei
Cherry Wine - Single Parent AU! Series - by @bakugou-jpg​  I’m gonna head out and say that Tsukki was my first favourite Haikyuu character - then I ‘character developed’ but that only went so far as to give me more favorites. But deadass - read this and you won't regret it. 
Ukai Keishin
(Un-Named) - Ballroom/Latin Dancer AU! Headcanons - by @imagine-that-haikyuu​  I know nothing about dancing. Or ballroom dancing. But I do know I’d love to dance with Ukai. So how’s that for ‘middle ground’? 
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four-rabbit · 3 years ago
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My best friend died in the 90′
Ok, so, this is part of an ghost AU that I have and probably will be talking about in the future, where Virgil is a ghost and them and Remus are best friends, (this is not the main plot but anyway, like I said, I'll talk about it in later)
However, while this doesn't happen, please have this oneshot about Remus and Virgil meeting each other
Summary: Remus never had any friends, but that changed when he decided to go to the cemetery in the middle of the night, just to meet Virgil, a kid that besides being just as weird as Remus, happens to be dead.
(For a little bit of context: in this fanfic Remus comes from a family where eveyone can speak to ghosts, on his mom side, at least, but unlike Roman, Remus was never able to talk to a ghost before meeting Virgil)
Characters: Remus Sanders, Virgil sanders, mentions to Roman Sanders
Warnings: swearing (specifically a kid swearing), discussions of death, mentions of a fight and bullying.
Obs: in this au Virgil uses exclusively they/them pronouns and Remus uses he/it. This is not a genderbend version of Remus.
I've always been the weird child so it seemed appropriate that my first friend had been dead for more than a decade.
It's a funny story: I had gotten to another fight, I even lost a tooth that day and probably would have lost two if I hadn't run away the moment the fucking coward that called himself a bully invited his friends for help. I may be fast but I can only bite so many people at once.
I didn't want to go home because Roman would be worried and my parents would be angry, which was the usual, but getting bullied was also the usual, didn't mean that I couldn't get tired of it, that's why I decided to go to the cemetery I mean, why not? 
I knew I was far from my house because it took me less than ten minutes to reach it. My parents moved to as far as possible from there the moment Roman was born, the guy can't stand even getting closer to it, which I founded stupid at the time. I would give anything to have the stupid paranormal sensitivity that he was so afraid of instead of being the disappointment of the family.
Turns out he was right for being afraid. 
After a quick look I confirmed that there was no other living soul at the cemetery besides me, so I smiled and sat on the closest gravestone. Mom always said that we should respect the dead and their resting place or else they would teach us a lesson or whatever but I was fine with that because I had decided a long ago that If a ghost showed themself to me it would be the coolest freaking thing ever. I kicked the gravestone weakly, as if knocking on a door. That thought made me giggle as I imagined a ghost appearing in pajamas, angry at me for disturbing them that late at night. I kicked again, this time a little harder. 
"Stop that" someone mumbled besides me. I immediately got to my feet, thinking that the gravedigger had seen me but fortunately I didn't see an angry adult, but a kid. They were using a black hoodie and had equally dark hair falling on their face. They were pale as a dead body, fat and tall, basically the opposite of me, an unhealthily skinny latino little shit. I snorted.
"What are you gonna do about it?" I kicked the gravestone once more. They seemed startled, backing up a little. 
"You- you can see me?"
"Why wouldn't- OH MY GOD YOU'RE A GHOST?!" I screamed not even caring if someone could hear me. Virgil cared. 
"Sshh! I-" they seemed disconcerted but gave up with a sigh "Yes, I'm" 
"Oh! Holy shit! Is that your gravestone?! Is that why you appeared when I kicked it?!" I jumped in excitement, getting close to them to take a closer look at my most recent discovery. 
"No, I just don't think you should kick it. It's disrespectful" 
"Yeah, whatever! Oh my god I can't believe I'm seeing a ghost! Suck it, mom, I knew I could do it too!" I exclaimed to nothing in particular as if she could hear me. "What's your name?"
"No- look, I'm sorry, I didn't think you could see me, I just- I should go" they said in the classic "I want to get rid of you" that everyone used after talking to me for more than five minutes. I started to get desperate, this was my first time seeing a ghost, I wouldn't let them leave that easily.
"No, don't go! I promise that I'm cool! Sorry for kicking your friend's gravestone, I don't know, please stay!" I begged and I guess my irresistible cuteness touched their heart because they turned to look at me again.
"He's not my friend," Virgil explained. "Just an old ghost that doesn't like to be bothered." they looked down shyly and I thought that was cute. "My name is Virgil. What's yours?" 
"My name-" I always hated to tell people my deadname, I just didn't know why at the time "You can call me the Duke because my name is shit I really hate it y'know, it really sucks ass" They probably raised an eyebrow, it was hard to tell with all that hair failing on their face, but didn't say anything besides:
"Why not the duchess?"
"Because I don't want to" replied, crossing my arms as if challenging them to disagree. Virgil looked me up and down, processing my appearance. I was using dirty green legs, a black dress that my mom insisted that I wore for school and an old all star. Their eyes stopped at my face, with my bloody nose and the missing tooth. "What happened to your face?"
"Oh yeah I got into a fight! But it's cool, I'm not afraid of those assholes" now they seemed worried.
"Why did you get into a fight?"
"Just the usual, he stole my lunch, pushed me out of my bike, called me some bad words and I bit him. Y'know everyone thinks blood is so gross but I kinda like the taste." I looked at them, trying to see their reactions. I couldn't see their eyes but I'm sure they widened as Virgil got closer, saying in the same worried tone that Roman used:
"You should be careful! Have you told your parents?! Do you have any friends to walk with you? Or you could tell a teacher! No, forget it, teachers never help, at least not when I was alive. Is there anyone you can trust to protect you?"
"Wow, chill, I can take care of myself"
"I'm serious, Duke!" I rolled my eyes. I hated when people treated me as some fragile girl that couldn't take care of herself. Turned out I just hated that people treated me like a girl. 
"Why do you care? I just met you" 
"Because-" Virgil changed their mind mid phrase. Can't blame them, I wouldn't share my backstory and the reason I died that easily either if I was a ghost. "You seem nice, I don't want you to get hurt" I don't think anyone had ever called me nice by that time. Weird, gross, disturbing, problem child, ungracious I had always heard, but nice was new, even Roman just called me "cool" or "brave" at best. So, of course, I got defensive. 
"Hm. Want me to tell you what he, Peter by the way, is the name of the asshole, yeah, he's a big asshole, what Peter and his friends called me?!" Again, Virgil barely reacted to my swearing and I was starting to get frustrated, it was always an easy way to get some fun reactions, especially from adults.
"Not really…" as they would learn in the years that followed, that kind of phrase rarely stopped me from speaking. 
"He called me a bitch! That's when I bit him, actually, he was like, listen here you little bitch and he pointed his finger at my face and I bit it and I almost ripped it off I swear!" I looked at them, waiting for their reaction, already imagining what it would be. I was young but I had lived enough to mainly aim for negative responses just because they were better than no response at all. Virgil stayed in silence for longer than I wanted which was like the most boring response. 
"How old are you, Duke?"
"I'm going to be nine in three months! How old are you?"
"I died when I was ten." 
"Cool! I was never friends with an older kid!" I was never friends with anyone besides Roman, but anyway. "I mean, you're my friend, right?" They didn't answer immediately, but then Virgil opened a smile and probably decided they were going to protect that little chaotic gremlin.
"Yeah, I guess I’m.”
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soysaucevictim · 3 years ago
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“aching, shaking, breaking (like humans do)”
Summary: Remus thinks Hypnos has abandoned him for good (metaphorically speaking), Patton is there to help. (Sanders Sides, Gym Rat AU. One-shot. Ao3 link.)
Genres: Slice of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Characters: Patton and Remus centric. Logan, Virgil, and Roman mentioned.
Relationships: Intruality (platonic), Logicality (platonic), Background Intrulogical (platonic/ambiguous), Background Dukexiety (romantic/QPP), Background Moxiety (paternal/platonic)
Warnings: Remus angst, extreme insomnia, (unintentional) self-injury, medications, mental health issues, grim imagery, Remus Has Intrusive Thoughts, Remus Is A Mess, Patton Is A Good Friend, Interfaith Friendships, Implied (Extended) Family Problems
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Patton was pedaling on one of the exercise bikes, which was one of his favorite activities to do at the gym. Relatively low impact and he usually took a “something is better than nothing” approach to his routines nowadays. Just appreciating the people watching and socializing with his workout famILY.
That was odd.
Remus hadn’t been to the gym for the whole week. Even when the kiddo overdid it – usually he’s not out of commission this long for it. Unless-
Something hit him in the gut when he realized that. He stopped on his bike and immediately buzzed his number.
Ring.
Ring.
Nothing.
He could shoot him a text, but it was just not settling right with him. Logan had been doing one of his HIIT circuits on the bike next to him. He took a deep breath, gently tapping Logan’s shoulder. Despite Logan’s concentration, he desisted immediately, turning off his music to respond, “What is it?”
“Have you seen a certain Pottymouth at your work recently?”
Logan paused, with a look of concerned realization, “Come to think of it, no. No, I haven’t. Well, he was getting particularly erratic and called in sick… 3 days ago.”
“I think I should go check in on him. My Other Son’s been swamped with work lately, sooo…”
If Logan was perfectly honest, it was often confusing when Patton referred to half their crew as his son, “Other son? Did you mean Virgil?”
Patton nodded.
“Probably prudent. Unfortunately, no one can stand in for me at the firm tonight. And. You’re better at the… emotions stuff.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence! Hopefully I’m just worried for nothing.”
Patton rose up from his bike and was about to leave with his things. Logan smiled faintly, “Hey, if you would, could you tell me how he’s doing when you find out?”
Patton smiled back, a little forced if he was honest, “I’ll make sure to have him tell you that himself!”
-
It wasn’t a very far trip across the city to get to Remus’s apartment complex from the gym.
Once Patton parked his car and took another deep breath, he stepped out toward it.
After getting buzzed in and jogging up a couple flights of stairs, thanking his stars for basic training, he was at the door in a jiffy.
Patton wasn’t in the business, but he was reminded of the time Remus was raising heck to get Unit 404 from this building. He remembered seeing Logan trying desperately not to laugh when he heard about it.
He knew to knock to the phrase “Shave and a Haircut”, to alert Remus. He drummed out a few calls, waiting for Remus to make a sound on the other side, hoping he would.
It was a thing in their group, ever since they all watched “Roger Rabbit” together for a movie night, years ago.
Once. Twice. Thrice…
Patton heard the sound of chaotic crashing noises and an off-script, but still in the right cadence, “Fuck OFF!”
“Remus!? Kiddo, it’s me. I wanted to check on you!”
He heard some stumbling noises and a hoarse, “P-padre?”
“Can I come in?”
There was a dramatically loud sigh before the door was unlatched, unlocked, and open.
“Thanks- oh.”
Patton wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting, but Remus looked even more harried than he usually was. The darkness around his eyes even more pronounced, his face was so drained. His makeup smudged, tear-streaked, and hanging on for dear life. His gaze wild and jumpy. Remus didn’t do much more than stand in the living room, staring at Patton once he entered.
Patton saw that Remus had knocked over one of his glass cabinets. He noticed Remus looked pretty scratched up and was bleeding in places, mostly his hands and knuckles.
Patton furrowed his brow, asking mostly to avoid presumptions, “How are you feeling?”
Remus sounded breathless too, “What does it fucking… look like!?”
Patton paused and looked around some more, there was a lot of trash strewn about the floor. Granted there usually was, Remus would just call it “organized chaos”. But Patton did note that there was an alarming number of energy drink cans piled around a hopelessly full trash bin. Monsters, NOS, Red Bulls, 5 Hours, yerba mate, the works.
Patton slumped a little bit in worry, “Not exactly peachy keen, I take it?”
Patton had a hunch that Remus was screaming not that long ago, based on just how raw his voice sounded, “No SHIT!”
“Um, would you like to sit down for a bit? It might help to talk it out.”
“Can’t.”
“Too restless, huh?”
“Yeah.”
At that point Remus was mindlessly digging his fingernails into his arm. Patton winced a little and decided to ask, “Can I take care of those injuries, at least? I just want to make sure they don’t get-”
Remus glanced at but barely registered the wounds, “Infected?”
“Yeah.”
“F-first aid kit’s in the bathroom. Not like it matters. It would be just my luck to have a brown recluse bite or resistant staph or necrotizing fasciitis. You know where shit rots and liquefies and you get all septic?! Imagine the SMELL.”
Patton slowly worked his way to the bathroom to get the kit, not taking his eyes away from Remus, “Well, if it looks like it’ll be that way, I WILL be taking your butt to the ER.”
Remus didn’t seem to register that, droning on, “Oh. What if I lose a finger? Or several! Or my entire hands! Everybody says I might die of a heart attack before I hit 30? My ticker feels like it’s going to EXPLODE, Teddy Roosevelt. Imagine a live grenade strapped to it – BOOM. Sounds like fun.”
Patton flinched, thinking that was to get a rise out of him, “Kiddo, I think that’s the opposite of fun.”
Remus weakly laughed, pointing at his chest thoughtlessly, “Better than worrying about cancer or some shit!”
Eventually Patton had to break line of sight to grab the kit, but he kept talking, “When… when did you last get some sleep?”
There was a pause that made Patton’s own heart ache a little bit. Remus muttered after some hemming and hawing, “Uh… 3? 4?  4 days ago? I think. I don’t even fucking know.”
Patton took a moment to look over the medicine cabinet while he was there. Just to see if Remus had anything that could help him get much needed snooze time. There was a bottle of trazodone, mostly full, Benedryl, also mostly full… no suspiciously empty bottles of anything around. So that was a hopeful sign.
“Would you mind if I asked you to take something to help you sleep? After I patch you up?”
“You remember that story where a whole batch of Tylenol was tampered with and killed like seven whole people?”
“… I’ll ask again a little later, then.”
Patton returned to the living room, kit in hand, both relieved and disconcerted about Remus just standing in the same spot he was in. His hands were clenching and unclenching, like he was fighting to stay awake even longer. “Okay, it would be easier on both of us if you sat down while I dress those wounds.”
Remus didn’t move, so Patton tried to gently nudge this poor kid toward the sofa anyways. Thankfully, he didn’t resist at all. Patton noticed just how wobbly a gait he had in that short distance. Once seated, Patton also saw that both his knees were scuffed. Patton winced, imagining that he took at least a few falls very recently.
Without prompting, Remus whined, “Everything hurts, Padre.”
“Well, going without sleep as long as you have can give you a bad case of the body aches. Seen some of my old combat buddies deal with that on our worst deployments…”
Patton started to wipe down Remus’s knuckles first with some cotton balls and alcohol. He just wanted to get a better sense of how deep these cuts were. He was relieved that they were surprisingly shallow, “I think these will only need some simple bandages and antibiotic cream… but I’m definitely going to check on you later, to see how your hands are doing.”
Remus nodded, and started to blather a bit again, “I feel like Hypnos himself has forsaken me. A curse! A bane! Pat? Is his brother going to come for me? Am I going to ride down Styx and meet the big H himself?”
“… you’re not going to die, if I can help it. I swear to God Himself.”
“Gross.”
Patton sometimes forgot that their positions of faith were so far removed. But that didn’t dissuade him from caring a lot. He hated seeing his friend suffering so much. He took another breath, and addressed the gouges and cuts in Remus’s arms. They were rough, probably unintentionally from his own hands. He approached those similarly. “You feeling any sleepier, yet?”
“Mmm… no.”
Remus looked like he was about to pass out, Patton was reasonably sure just the fact he was seated and getting some TLC helped push him closer to shutting his eyes. “Well. I’m going to hang around for a few, just to make sure you’re alright, okay? Mind if I turn on the TV?”
Remus started to slur his speech considerably, “Knock yourself out, Holy Ghost.”
Patton thinly smiled about the blasphemous sentiment, but he shook that off, it didn’t matter really. He was just glad to see Remus doze off like he desperately needed it.
Patton decided to tune into Nickelodeon and watch some cartoon reruns, eventually hearing some loud snoring coming from Remus. Patton sighed and smiled at the sight.
-
“Oh GEEZ, Patton. Were you – were you here all night?”
Patton blinked awake from the shouting and looked outside to see it was bright out, “I-I guess I was?”
Virgil was there to see his boyfriend sleeping like the dead and Patton next to him.
“Logan told me to check on Remus and I just got back here. And-”
“Remus is going to be okay, I think. Do you have any idea what may’ve started this episode?”
Virgil sat down on the recliner nearby and looked tired but contemplative.
“His “family” tried contacting him. All I know was it devolving into a messy fight and it rattled him. He… stubbornly didn’t want to talk about it.”
Patton understood what he meant at this point.
The only blood relative Remus had anything nice to say about was Roman. Someone who should probably know what happened, if he wasn’t already aware.
All to address later, once Remus recovered a little more.
Patton ran his fingers through Remus’s greasy hair. Not the most pleasant, but he hoped it helped to soothe him as he continued to slumber.
Virgil smiled at both of them, his own concern never quite gone, “Thanks for this, Pop Star.”
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Luckiest thing (Drabble)
Warnings: none, except maybe shitty writing tbh Word count: 1,5k Summary: On the fourth of July you have a little surprise for your husbands family
Requested by my amazing @sirkekselord​:  Hello my wife. Because you never write my fucking things I ask you on Whatsapp... Here I am. Just give me some Jason fluff after what you have done to me. Making me cry twice. Him happy, having a wife and a happy family. Give me the family life. Domestic stuff. Batfam being the great batfam they should be! I am done. So done. Also I'm not gonna ask you on Whatsapp this and I won't look at the fandom list but will you make an exception and write for Eddie Brock? If you don't? Love you sunshine. ♥
A/N: Two things: first, I don’t live in America and have never celebrated fourth of july so this is all just how I imagine it, second: since Gotham is a rather special place, in my fanon lore for this fanfiction there is a city wide ban on all kind of firecrackers and rockets.
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It was strange, really, how on almost every other day of the year, no matter if holiday or not, Gotham's villains couldn't give two ducks about if it was a good time to rob a bank or try to bomb an orphanage, but on the week surrounding the fourth of July, the crime rate just dropped. Every year.  So, with his family being busy most of the year and unable to remember the last time they all did something together, Bruce decided that it would be a good chance to have a little get-together at the manor. With that choice made, he notified the family and handed over the preparation to Alfred who relished in planning something other than a Gala or a ball or something that would happen again in less than a month. And he wasn't the only one who was more than happy about this possibility, no, when you answered Bruce's call and accepted his invitation you were over the moon. It would be the first time since the wedding that you and Jason would meet the majority of your husband's family in one spot and it was the perfect opportunity for a little surprise.
The few weeks between Bruce's call and the fourth of July passed in a flash and soon you stood in front of the kitchen island in the beautiful house in the outskirts of the city that Bruce had gifted you for your wedding, decorating the blue, red, white cupcakes with matching toppings and little edible stars on all of them except one, which just got a single, big, silver one. "We both know that Alfred will have more than enough food prepared, you're almost offending him when you bring something too," a husky, deep voice told you from behind you, sending a warm shiver down your spine. Along with the words were arms that found their way around your hips and pulled you against a broad, muscular chest. You sighed in content, comfortable as you could be against Jason. "I know, I know," you chuckled and smiled up at him, "But it's tradition to bring something along." Your husband playfully rolled your eyes before leaning down and kissing your forehead. "We should get going soon," you hummed and helped yourself out of Jason's arms, walking over to one of the shelf to get out a transport carrier for the cupcakes, making quick work as to place the inside, while Jason nodded and went into your bedroom to get his festive leatherjacket. When the sweets were stored, you walked over to a mirror in the hall, checking over your outfit. You were wearing a flowy, blue summer dress with red ballerinas and a small red bow in your hair. It was simple, but you felt really cute in it so you just nodded at your reflection and went back to get the carrier before going into the garage to fix it to Jason's motorcycle. "Are you sure we should take the Bike and not the car? I mean-" "Don't worry your pretty little head Jason," you threw him his helmet (a normal one) and started flexing you own, careful not to destroy your hair. Before he could protest again, you jumped onto the vehicle, patting the driver's seat in front of you. You could hear the small sigh that Jason made, but he obeyed and sat down, turning on the motor.
The garden of the manor (or rather the parts of the park-like surroundings that were close to one of the backdoors) looked astonishing. There was a table placed in the middle, decorated with a blue and white tablecloth and red plates and glasses (that Alfred must've extra bought for the occasion), on the trees that were near were little blue, red and white lampions, perfectly placed, along with little star fairy-lights, and on the side stood a rather pompous grill with Alfred standing behind it, wearing a 'The Grillfather' apron. The entire family was standing around in the area. Bruce and Dick were standing the closest, only a few feet away from the backdoor, chatting about something, Tim, Steph, Duke and Cass were sitting on garden chairs in the shadow of a tree and Damian was sitting on the grass, playing with Alfred the cat and Titus (or more like he was playing with Titus and Alfred was laying in the sun). When you and Jason came out in the garden, Alfred was first to notice and come to you. "Hello Master and Misses Todd," he said, winking at you slightly when you blushed at being called Misses Todd for one of the first times since the wedding by anyone besides Jay. "Hello, Alfie-" you pushed the carrier into Jason's arms and went to hug the man "-you really overdid yourself this time, it's beautiful." "Thank you very much," he smiled and you took your cupcakes out of Jason's arms again to give him a chance to hug his surrogate Grandfather. When they parted again, Jason gave you a small kiss on the cheek before going over to Dick and Bruce who were waving over to you. "What do you have here," Alfred said with a curious gaze directed to the box in your hands, prompting you to open it and show him the cupcakes with a smile. "I know you most likely have everything prepared already, but I couldn't help myself and bring something along." "Don't be silly darling," he laughed slightly and took the box out of your hands, "You can never cook enough when cooking for this family." You continued talking for a while before he turned to bring the cupcakes to another table beside the grill that was serving as a buffet and get back to the barbeque.
The noon turned into the evening and everything was going wonderful. For a while, you went around talking to everyone while Alfred and Damian were basically glued to your side, before Alfred called for dinner and everyone sat down at the table, Jason on your right and Damian on your left. The sun was already starting to set, the Lampions were turned on and much brighter than you'd expected when you remembered your little surprise. You poked Jason's thigh under the table to get his attention and he seemed to immediately understand what you meant, smiling at you with just a glimpse of excitement in your eyes. "I know we just ate Alfred's wonderful food, but I tried a little something new for my cupcakes and wondered if you would mind tasting them?" you asked and tilted your head slightly to the side while looking at the people around you and their unknowing faces. A choir of agreement answered you and you clapped into your hands, expectantly looking at your spouse who gave you a small 'Are-you-serious'-face before pushing his chair back to get the cupcakes and placing one in front of everyone.   "Why does father get the special one," Damian huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, frowning at Bruce's cupcake that had the single big star on top of it. "Uhm...just because," you shrugged, aware of the thinness of that excuse. "Anyway, how about we all try on three yes? Okay," you averted the topic and continued the conversation. "One, two, three," Jason counted and on cue, everyone took a bite out of the little cakes, but your eyes were fixed on Bruce. At first, his face seemed to be very happy with the sweet and full taste, before it contorted in confusion. He pulled the cupcake away from his mouth and used his other to pull something out of it. "What the," he muttered, using his napkin to clean the object and reveal it to be a pacifier. For just a second his eyes were filled with complete confusion until they lit up with recognition. "Are you- Really-" he started and looked at you with almost tear-filled eyes attracting the attention of the others around him. "Yes," you nodded and felt tears also starting to fill your eyes, unconsciously setting your hand onto your stomach. "Whoa!"s and "What?"s filled the air until everyone understood what you and Bruce were talking about. "I'll be a grandfather," Bruce smiled proudly, running over to your side to pick you out of your chair and swirl you around. The rest of the night was filled with congratulations and people cluttering around you and Jason who soon started to slightly feel neglected with all the attention you were giving the people around you. At that moment you felt in the right place, you felt at peace and you knew, that almost running over Jason all these years ago, when you had first met him and almost immediately fell for him. was maybe the luckiest thing that could ever happen...
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mstelevisionccc · 3 years ago
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Character 2 : Teens in Space
So, a while ago, I had a chance to play Kids on Bikes, which is this game's predecessors. It's a little fun weird game that is inspired by ET and Goonies, and other kid media stuff. I wasn't sure I liked the game, but I was looking for alternative Sci-Fi games at the time, because I was deeply unsatisfied with Stars without Numbers, and when this game came around, I decided I needed to at least check it out. What I found was something that was not quite the same experience.
Teens in Space presents a couple of different faces, and they feel like they conflict with each other. When building yours ship, they ask if you want to play it up as serious or silly, and the system tries really hard to present both aspects in character choices, but it still tends to lean heavier into the Dark Militant Fantasy angle. A lot of the art in the book is influenced by the Clone Wars and Rebels series, and it's easy to tell. Still, when you get to the alien races, there are a lot of interesting choices!
The first part of creating a game is to Create a Ship. This is something that the party talks about, and during this part, you talk about the kind of adventures you are going to have, and how some of the things look in the game. As I am the only player at the moment, I'm just going to make some arbitrary choices.
I imagine that our crew is out doing a sight seeing tour of the galaxy. They are young, they got an allowance, and they are unsupervised. How could things go wrong? As such, it's not necessarily a serious game. They might get involved in local troubles, and they might get in over their heads, but it's not like they are saving the galaxy or anything on purpose. They're just trying to see something cool, meet interesting new life forms, and form bonds.
At this point, every person gets to add a little bit to the Ship that is basically their part of the ship, and help make the experience special. I decide that maybe we should have some EVA Suits, so we can go out and repair the ship or visit other ships.
There is an extensive ship creation section which I'm going to skip now, and just say that we are flying a Scout Ship, a small and maneuverable ship with good sensor ranges that can get into trouble by being just in the wrong place.  We are going to say what makes it special is that it can go between systems without a Jump Gate, a mode of transit that is more common in the worlds. It's riskier as it doesn't work through entanglement, but it let's you get places without having to go through traffic checks.
The game then asks you basic questions for the campaign. How much space is explored (We're going to say it's a fairly developed galaxy), and how much of it has been seen by the ship (Maybe a good 1/3rd? All the local stuff, for sure), and what conflicts has it been in (Let's say that it was stuck in a Megacorp war, where it was looking for rogue shipments and mercenary bands, at one time).
Then it asks how the teens got ahold of the ship. I always like the default answer that one of the kids' parents are either rich or they just happen to have a ship in the hanger that they don't use much, and they kids go take a Joyride in it. I don't see why I should make it any different here. Then the question of how well maintained it is comes up.
It then asks the questions of What is Well Maintained on the Ship, and what is basically falling apart. So, obviously, the Jump Drive is in tip top shape. It is experimental, and it's finicky, and if you have one, you just dote on it, because it's a rare drive, right? I figure that the thing that is not holding together well is the Galley. It's old equipment, the hydroponifier just doesn't get as warm as it should as quickly as it should, and no one makes food that fits it's receptacle anymore. Cooking is just a chore.
... I honestly might say the Artificial Gravity, but no. Food is important, especially when you're a teen. I'm keeping that one.
Then it asks about the story that everyone has heard about this ship. Let's say that it was the ship that discovered the Pulsar Dyson Network around Pyrocor-C, which pushed the whole galaxy forward into a new age of prosperity. (I mean, it's no Kessel Run, but it'll do)
Then we are finally asked to name the ship. I think we can call it Nonu Shirase (After a Japanese Antarctic Explorer, because why not?).
With that all out of the way, you then get to build your character. You select your Species and Character Trope, answer a few questions about you and your crew, and then select some improvements.
Here is where there is a lot of fun, and you have a lot of choices for Aliens that go from tropey to weird. Today I am choosing to play a Bug.
I am going to play a Cimexean Explorer named Th'tin. Cimexeans are this Hive Mind Bug Race that looks a little like a cross between a Ant and a grasshopper. They got 4-8 eyes, and they all belong to a Hivemind, which has all the tasks organized by a Hiveleader. I think that Th'Tin is being a bit rebellious, and is leaving to get away from the Hivemind, because they are tired of being told to do things all the time, and just wants space to be who they are. They hate the expectations Hive life expects out of you. Furthermore, they are tired of being public all the time, and knowing what everyone else is feeling. It has gotten gross lately, and they just are not sure why it changed.
So the Trope you chose gives you your base dice for your abilities in the game, and those abilities are Brains, Brawn, Charm, Fight, Flight, and Grit. Each one of these abilities is given a dice to roll, and begin an Explorer, it gives my highest dice in Grit and my lowest one in Charm. The character is better at being willful and dodgy and thinking things out than they are at fighting or being strong, and for sure, he's not that good with talking to people.
It also asks a few questions, like How did it feel when you made your first discovery, and what made me go out to explore, and what advice did the Taskmaster give before I left. I figure that Th'tin was spurred to explore to basically try to get out of chores, and during that time, they ran into ... I don't know... Tasty Fruit that people hadn't discovered yet. The Taskmaster gave the advice to talk to people, and don't be afraid to ask for help, even if you don't get it, because others can not know what you are thinking, and that's not as good a thing as you think it is.
So the next step is that you need to invent a Fatal Flaw. This gives you chances to earn Adversity Tokens, which allows you to cheat the system when rolling dice. Here is where I might be asking advice from my fellow players. Part of me just wants to be Reluctant to ask fro help. Like, a stubborn one that wants to get things done alone, but that doesn't seem like a good team player kind of flaw. So I think the Fatal Flaw should be Susceptible to Temptation. Offer him something that he thinks is cool or something he wants will make him make bad decisions, and I think that is something that is more friendly to a group game.
The next part is about talking about the crew and how they got together, and I think I'm going to skip that part for now. I'd need other players, really. This basically is the step where you bond with the crew, and you describe a few problems that are between the players, and establish a rumor about the universe, and define your first adventure. Very typical stuff.
Last step is that you get to spend some Improvement Points to add some definition to your character and make them a little different. Whatever points you don't spend on your character, you can spend on the ship.
So, I think we'll start with buying High Flier. Hey, I got wings and can fly! I'm a bug!
I'll also take Scanner, as it lets me learn about Pressure Gauges, which are the timers of this game. When they max out, things happen, and this lets you know how much time is left to do things, roughly. I think it's a useful ability, because it lets us know what the GM really wants us to do.
I also will take Tough, because the Explorer is all about Grit, and just losing seems to be something that doesn't bother this Cimexean that much.
With 5 points left over, I decide to add a few more things to the ship. I think we'll go ahead and make the ship a little bit more tougher, like I am, and add a d6 to shields, and we'll give it a Rover, because what is cooler than one cool ship that can go around? A cool ship with a cool car.
So... That's it. That's the character. There is some rough rules for equipment, but I am not sure where to find the rules to say what you start with, so I'm skipping the issue for now. Here we are.
Grit d20 Flight d12 Brain d10 Brawn d8+1 Fight d6 Charm d4
Name: Th'Tic Pronouns : They/Them Species : Cimexean Trope : Explorer Fatal Flaw : Susceptible to Temptation
Bonuses Hive Mind Improvement (2 IP) Drawback: If issued a command by a hiveleader, they must make a grit check of 10 in order to refuse.
Ship Improvements : Sheilds D6 2 EVA Suits Rover
Personal Improvements : High Flier Scanner Tough Get a copy of your own here : https://renegadegamestudios.com/teens-in-space/
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the-fiction-witch · 4 years ago
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Story P2
REAL LIFE: COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: SWEET AF
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"It actually is kinda interesting because when we met, both y/n and I where in relationships." I answered
"Were you? So how did you meet?"
"I remember, it was a party for a friend of mine it was there uhhh engagement party, he had this big party rented out the whole of this pub in London for his party. So I went with my then girlfriend and she knew some people, I knew some people so we where just sort of hung out either side of the room from each other as we did tend to do we didn't share a lot of friends, And then a Friend of mine Jack came over brought me a beer and asked if I had met Alex's girlfriend. Now Alex was sort of... I guess a friend he was jack's friend and jack is my friend so we sort of knew of each other in parties and such never hung out for of one on one i don't think we were that friendly, and I just shrugged and said well no I hadn't yet but you know always open to meeting new people, and he said off you have to meet her you're gonna love her." I explained "So I followed him though this pub and I saw sat at this little booth table was this girl" "And that was y/n?"
"That was y/n" I nodded "I remember everything as well she had a pair of black ankle boots, these black tights, this huge red petticoat, this little black like uhh very retro sort of 50's 60's style dress, red lipstick that matched the petticoats, and hair done in this tight up do very uuhh very Audrey Hepburn like everything tied up and away from her face and as we went over I heard her say 'Harleys are for posers, they are not worth it with the price and upkeep you pay for the name not a good motorbike'"
"what did you think when you first saw her and heard her say that?"
"I literally just thought. Fuck. this is... quite possibly going to be my new best friend. It was that immediate when you don't even have to talk to someone you just understand your going to like them that was very much my reaction to her, and we met jack introduced us and I think we stood there talking about motorbikes for about two hours
"Did you know you liked her?"
"I don't think I liked her. I don't think it was love at first sight or anything like that I just really wanted to be around her but in a friend sort of way I don't think either of us felt any sort of romantic feelings at that point or if we did, we didn't notice, it was very much a sort of... I wanna be friends with you I wanna hang out with you, we traded numbers and chatted on and off for a while met up for drinks a few times, even double dated with her and Alex me and my girlfriend, we had been on trips as well all four of us we went to the lake district camping all four of us, that didn't go well." I laughed "But we had met maybe... two years ago at that point and my relationship ended, It was a mutual thing I think we both kinda said look this isn't really working, some of it was we had an age gap and there were times you could feel it, we had drifted apart, know ones fault, one of those things." I shrug "and Jack was away at the time, so I went to y/n's and just had a beer or two, watched some old top gear, just generally shot the shit hanging out it was at this point when my relationship was wrapping up we where splitting off from each other that I did sort of start to see y/n a little bit more, Of course I had seen her but I saw her a bit differently and it was one day, me, Alex, y/n, jack and his girlfriend had gone down to south end for the day and I don't know exactly when but at some point in that day I kinda just glanced over at y/n and sort of said to myself... I think I have a crush on y/n."
"It took you that long? I've just been listening to this story and I'm telling you you've had a crush on her longer then that"
"I am not good at noticing these things. I am bad for it I never pick up on it even when it's me I can't tell" I laughed "But she was still with Alex so I kinda went yeah I have a crush, leave it alone it'll go away" "Did it?"
"No"
"shocker"
"It got progressively worse, but I started to kinda distance myself from her because I didn't want to seem weird or to piss Alex off or anything else which she instantly picked up on, the moment I said I didn't want to go over to her's for pizza and star wars she knew something was kinda up. I lied and said I was getting back on the dating scene which I don't think she believed but it worked. and then this was maybe a few months down the line, she was away she was up visiting her family and she had a motorbike crash ended up basically fucking her leg up and she had only taken her motorbike up to visit her family so she was kinda stuck she didn't want to leave her bike there, she couldn't ride home, she couldn't do much of anything and as it happened her sister was just about to go off on a cruise one of those massive cruises she was going to be gone over a month, and her pets where meant to go to her parents house till she got home but y/n said look I'm stuck up here, lets keep them in there own home she'll go and take care of them she'd house sit and cat sit for her sister, and she'd sleep in the spare room until they got back by then her leg should be better" I explained "Now I.... Was not thrilled about this I wanted her to be back in London mostly so I could go see her because at this point the crush was, more Yeah I really really like you sort of level and more then anything I just wanted to look after her since she was hurt and it took maybe two days of her being there that I called her up and said look you can barely walk I do not like you being in this little bungalow all by yourself if you have a fall or the cat's knocks you over or you slip in the supermarket or something bad happens you're miles from anyone who can help the nearest hospital was an hour away, so I said to her, I will come up there I will sleep on the sofa so long as its fine with your sister, and I will do your shopping, clean up, do the stuff that you can't really do because you can't walk"  I explained "and she agreed her sister said it was fine so... I went up there."
"You took care of her?"
"I did, I did all her shopping I did her food, we sat around a lot on the sofa just chilling with her sisters cats, It was great and I remember sitting there one day, cat on my lap, beer in my hand watching her as she watched lord of the rings and I remember thinking. Fuck. I don't have a crush on y/n. I don't like y/n. I think... I think I love her. and I don't have an excuse for what I then did because I just kinda reached over and I... Held her hand. and I could feel her heart was a fast as mine was. and she broke this very odd quiet even with the battle of helms deep going on, on the tv. and she said Alex had broken up with her the night before she came up to visit her family, which was part of why she got in the accident because she was driving recklessly because she was still so upset,"
"Alex didn't tell you?"
"No. we still didn't really talk much one on one and even when we did he very rarely spoke about him and y/n or even y/n in general I think he knew, by then I did have a crush on her I don't think he was jealous or anything but I think he knew" I said "And I did the usual Ohh I'm so sorry y/n, we had some ice cream, some wine, ordered KFC five minuets before they closed and just kinda got her though it, she took it a lot harder then when me and my girlfriend split because it wasn't mutual for her and Alex, Alex left her for another woman,  and she was as you can imagine quiet broken up about it, they had been together a good four five years by that point and... I think what hurt her even more was that who he then got together with was someone she knew"
"Who was it?"
".... Her best friend. that really broke her because not only has she lost a boyfriend someone she's been with a long long time, but now she can't trust her best friend and really has lost her too because they had been seeing each other while her and Alex were together"
"was she okay?"
"she was after a while, I think me being there helped because she didn't feel quiet so abandoned and alone, but we had a good time anyway. and then once we got back to London, she came over to check out my new house that had just finished being done and she stayed over, and I told her, Look this is really rash, this is probably nuts but I really like you, and as luck would have it she told me that she really liked me to. and we ended up having our first date, we went shopping together we made home made pizza and home made fried chicken together and then sat down and had a cuddle and watched an old doctor who episode."
"what was your sort of mind set on that date?"
"I didn't really think about much it was just really fun it was like having a best friend but you hold hands and maybe you get  a little kiss every now and again But I remember looking at her on the sofa as we cuddled under the blanket and I just said to myself. I really fucking love you. But I can't tell you that because I don't want to scare you" I laughed "And from then on we just went on dates whenever we could and about four maybe five months into us dating I said to jack look I don't want to wait anymore, Never in my life had a felt an urgency or anything like that to get married have kids and such but I said to him I feel like when I'm with her, if I don't ask her, I'll lose her forever, and if I do I'll never ever feel this way with someone else again, he said I was nuts. he said slow down. he said you guys don't even live together you haven't even been dating a year it's puppy love, it's the honeymoon phase it's literally just your in a new relationship with someone you really like it's just your getting overwhelmed."
"what did you do?"
"I went home and I had a date with y/n that night and I said to her as we where cooking, what would you say If I told you that I loved you. and she had heard this from me before this wasn't news to her, and she said ohh well I'd say I love you back of course, and I then asked her, What would you say if I told you I wanted to have a baby... With you?"
"Ohhhhhhh"
"and she said, I don't know. But it's something to talk about" I laughed and I left it a while a little worried like that Ohh shit why did I say that I've just freaked her out and then she turned to me and said well if so then I want two girls and a boy, which made me laugh a little and I said yeah I'm okay wit that, and I just literally stood over the sink at her flat washing potatoes, I asked her What if I asked you to marry me?"
"and what did she say?"
"And she stopped a moment and she just smiled and said, I'd say yes. and I kinda freaked out and asked her if she meant it and she asked if I was actually asking and I just went fuck it I didn't plan this out this way but fuck it yes I'm asking you, for real actual will you marry me. and she said yes."
"what did jack have to say?"
"He wasn't happy. He called me a few very unsavoury names but, were happily married now and I do not ever see that changing. and she is now... Pregnant, she's never happy we just found out last week it's twins, twin girls, very happy, very health"
"did you cry?"
"I wasn't actually able to go. Yeah I had a work thing. But she came back and showed me the picture and yes I cried, Like a baby. I didn't even know it was twins, I had a theory just because the bump was so big, and she already knew from earlier scans and she had... dropped a hint a couple of times that it might have been twins but only when the ultrasound came though I got to see my little girls and that was amazing, it is also now up on the wall of our house the nursery is... almost done I uhhh I need to build some stuff. and I'm scared too because it's come from Ikea. but its the cribs so, it has to be done, it's not like the high chair which I can leave for another two months, Odly enough I built that first becuase... it came first and I was just in a baby mood."
"A Baby mood?"
"Yeah when you get really excited and stuff so you do stuff like the nursey and filming the stomach kick and all this sort of stuff. Y/n has not been up to much though, she's mad at me at the moment though"
"Ohh no why?"
"Because I won't let her eat stuff she's not suppose to on her pregnant diet. and she is... lets go with not happy with me" I laugh "Before I came in today I had to put all the stuff she can't have in one cupboard in our kitchen, and..." I laughed showing the key from my pocket "If I don't she'll eat twinkies, chocolate, fridge raiders, uhh there's jaffa cake rolls in there, basically anything you think I don't think a pregnant woman shouldn't be eating that. it's in there"
"My last question Thomas? are you happy?
"Yes. I am happier now I think then I have been.... for a very long time."
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feminaexlux · 4 years ago
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Black Cats are Some Kind of Luck
Oh god this might just be a little bit of a crack fic but I had way too much fun writing this.
Rated M, probably? Iunno. LukaNoire!
In most of the mornings Luka had in his life after toddlerhood he woke up alone in his bed. When Juleka was younger, maybe a toddler herself, she had dragged him out of his bed to hide under a blanket on the floor when she had nightmares. Anarka would find her babies in a tangled nest, since sleeping on the floor meant finding no monsters under the bed to very young imaginative minds.
This morning he woke up with… someone else snuggled next to him. Someone who looked a lot like Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
He hadn't gone to sleep that way. Pretty sure of that. He was and had been sober.
He had no idea what happened.
Gently he pried himself away from her, extricating himself carefully from her grasp. He took a quick look around his room and yep, this was his room in his flat that he shared with his best friend. His guitars were hung up against the walls, his music sheet paper was on his desk in random piles, his hoodie was thrown over his desk covering his laptop.
But it was Marinette. In his bed. Oh god, he thought, HOW was she here? Somewhere deep down inside of him he didn't find the idea of him waking up next to her unwelcome but… there was a natural progression to things. Sure, he'd been in love with her for years but she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng the up-and-coming fashion star and personal designer for Jagged Stone. He was just Luka. He hadn't ever given himself even the slimmest of chances when she was Marinette and she had her eyes on Adrien Agreste, the supermodel and son of Gabriel, who ran the most prominent design house in France. She was probably 2 standard deviations out of his league.
"Shit," he whispered to no one in particular. He checked himself over and double checked that he was sober and dressed (oh god we didn't… did we?). She was wearing her pajamas and it didn't look like they did anything so that wasn't going to cause an immediate meltdown. He should probably wake her up and… figure out what happened. He knelt by the edge of the bed and gently shook her by the shoulder. "Hey. Marinette?"
"Mnnng," she groaned, eyebrows furrowing as she frowned. She grabbed at his blankets and pulled them in toward her, then started opening her eyes. "Hi," she said, lazily smiling up at him. She must still have been waking up, but if she smiled like that to whoever she woke up next to he'd happily have them both go back to sleep just so they'd wake up together again.
"Do you know where you are?" He asked. Maybe there'd been an akuma attack and she got teleported here? He wasn't sure. "You're in my room. Do you remember how you got here?"
"Yeah," she yawned. "I cam--" Her eyes shot wide open mid-word and she slapped her hands over her mouth. "Th-there was an akuma!"
Oh god, she almost said she came here on purpose, and not because she'd been high as a kite on whatever kitty hormones had coursed through her veins while she was Lady Noire.
Well, she couldn't blame it just on the kitty hormones. Regular hormones were bad enough. And if she was even more honest with herself she had wanted to wake up next to Luka Couffaine, the gentleman rocker, ever since she found herself thinking about blues more than greens, distressed more than clean and crisp, shy but warm laughter more than confused smiles.
So basically for a couple of years now.
She should have seen it coming. When she and Mister Bug decided to swap permanently she'd been informed by Plagg that should she choose it, she'd be able to tap into some latent powers with the side effect of being more like the animal the Miraculous represented. She didn't think it'd be a problem so she chose it. Cats just slept all the time. If she didn't have to worry about being Ladybug anymore she could afford more sleep, right?
What she didn't really account for (and she should have after a facepalm worthy moment where she realized Plagg had been teasing it all along) was the heat. Or whatever it was that made her way more… touch-oriented, and way less inhibited than usual.
She'd been alright with napping more often. She'd been alright about unconsciously licking her hands clean. It was convenient that she was the daughter of bakers and helped out making pastries. She was practically covered in flour and sugar all the time anyway (regardless, she always washed her hands after). She didn't have a tail to swish around whenever she was annoyed so nothing about her was more cat-like than usual. Though she was annoyed more often now that she thought about it.
The cat-ness also severely affected her sense of smell.
She wasn't alright with how good some people smelled, especially near her period. When she and Kagami were having a juice date Marinette legitimately drooled at how vibrantly citrusy the fencer was. Alya, Nino, and most of Kitty Section smelled pleasant. Her parents smelled… well, familiar, which was to be expected. Adrien also smelled familiar, which was unexpected.
Luka was the worst. She couldn't place the scent but she kept thinking of blueberries, sea salt, chocolate, ocean waves lapping at her feet, the warmth of a crackling bonfire with the cooling sea breeze, and how badly she wanted to curl herself around him and take in his everything. It wasn't just near her period. It was all the time.
It seemed like after the late-night/early-morning akuma attack she had nearly gone ahead and wrapped herself around him in her kitty hormone addled brain. God, he had smelled so good and her brain had still been fuzzy at the edges when he woke her up, but she had quickly gotten to her senses after he had looked a little panicked and she had noticed that she was detransformed.
She couldn't blame him for being panicked. If the situation was reversed she might have screamed and tossed him across the Seine.
"I'm… I'm so sorry, Luka," she said in her own panic. She looked off to the side and nervously played with the rose-gold ring on her right hand, wondering where Plagg had gone. She looked back at Luka when he blew out a relieved sigh.
"Hey, it was the akuma," he laughed. "You alright? Not hurt anywhere?"
"I'm alright, yeah," she answered, then suddenly frowned. Plagg, that little shit, what the hell was he doing? She found him laying on top of Luka's head, smiling a wide Cheshire cat smile.
"I don't know why the miraculous ladybugs didn't drop you off back home," Luka said, sounding like he was talking more to himself than to her. "Maybe it works differently for Mister Bug?"
Marinette could definitely fudge it and say that the Miraculous Ladybugs kinda… skipped her. "Haha, maybe I was too far from them?" Marinette forced a laugh.
Luka shrugged. "Still, I'm guessing you'd wanna go back home, right?"
Hmm, not really. And well, her ride back home was currently lounging in Luka's hair. She reached out a hand to try to catch Plagg but the kwami slipped out of her grasp. She ended up just… petting Luka. "Oh! S-sorry you had something in your hair," she said quickly, trying to cover up her embarrassment.
"Thanks?" He said, a deep blush rising up to his cheeks. He swept his hair back after Marinette reluctantly drew back her hand and for a long moment Marinette just stared. The younger Couffaines had a mild tendency to hide behind brightly colored bangs when they were feeling shy, but Luka had as much unconventional beauty packed in his features as Juleka did.
And Juleka could very well be a supermodel if she wanted.
"I'll give you a ride back on my bike. Is that alright?" He asked as his blush faded. He still looked a little nervous with his hand on the back of his neck.
"I'd love a ride," she said absently, another yawn overtaking her. Ugh, his bed was so warm and smelled so nice and she would most definitely like to ride him--ride with him, WITH him, WITH him. Yeah, she should go home now before she ruined everything.
At least, that had been the plan. They had gone down to the garage and chatted lightly after getting geared up one after the other, both more than thankful that Luka's roommate was dead asleep in the other room. The ride was smooth and relatively short so she hadn't been thinking about how she wanted to feel him under her the whole time, no, not at all. He parked nearby as her housing complex had like, no available spaces, and walked the block and a half to her apartment with her so she could get out of the borrowed gear without going barefoot in her pajamas.
As he was heading out with the spare gear over his arms, she stopped him. "Thanks for getting me home and… for everything. I'm… I'm glad I didn't end up anywhere else," Marinette said with a shy smile. She got up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek.
"No problem," he said slowly, mostly surprised with a blush creeping over his face. "See you later?"
She had a giant yawn escape her after she closed the door and started walking back to her bedroom. Plagg zipped out of her pajama pants pocket to float in front of her. "Yanno you kissed him on the mouth, right?" he snickered.
Luka slowly leaned forward and rested his head against her door. Had she just kissed him? Had she just kissed him and he said "see you later" like a dumbass? He tried to stifle a groan and pressed his head harder into the door when the door swung open away from him with surprising speed. Three things worked against him as he tried to recover from stumbling forward: being caught off guard, his arms already carrying stuff that made him unbalanced, and gravity.
Good thing Marinette was there to break his fall. The bad thing was Marinette had some really amazing reflexes and honed self-defense skills because she guided his momentum into throwing him onto the floor, landing him on his back. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hands after realizing what she had done. "Oh my god! Luka are you okay?!"
"Don't know," he said, blinking up at the ceiling. He'd been dressed for the slide but definitely felt hit by a truck after she'd kissed him. "Probably," he said after a beat. "Was that an accident?"
"… Yeah, I don't usually throw you to the ground?" Marinette replied, confused.
"No, you kissed me."
She made a couple of noises that sounded like abortive starts at sentences. "I… guess I don't usually do that either," she ultimately sighed, pressing one delicate hand to her very red cheeks. She knelt down next to him and brushed his hair away from his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'll be okay if you kiss me again," he said, thinking he'd be able to get away with ha, just kidding if she wasn't into it but desperately hoping she would be. Something in her expression shifted and he almost felt his soul leave his body. He started propping himself up by his hands looking for the gear that got flung aside when he was pulled up the rest of the way to sitting by his jacket collar.
He got hit by another metaphorical truck. She pressed her lips to his, which was pretty great by itself but then it got more and intense and open and she unbuttoned his collar and zipped down his jacket. The temperature of the room instantly got stifling and he was sure part of his brain melted.
She pulled back a bit and they got a few breaths of air. He should have used that time to ask Can this be an every day thing but then she licked her lips and all coherent thoughts evaporated. He didn't notice that she successfully tugged his jacket off. Didn't feel it when he got pushed back down. Did notice when she sat on his lap and leaned forward to kiss him hard over and over again. He only heard the faintest buzz of his phone that had almost been drowned out by her tiny, breathy moans, and that had only sunk in and registered after she sat back up and growled at it.
She picked it up and nearly threw it against her couch except she caught a glimpse of something and said "Goddamn it."
It wasn't his finest moment. "Huh?"
"Akuma. Sorry, Luka!" She took his hands off of her ass and jumped up. Somehow she hauled him up to his feet and pushed him out the still opened door, pressing his jacket and phone into his hands. "I'll get the rest of the stuff to you later okay? I'm so sorry!"
"Wait. Hold on, what--" She cut him off by kissing him again, which was a surprisingly effective tactic.
"I'll meet you for lunch, but for now I gotta g--hide! Be safe! Sorry!" Then the door slammed shut.
The phone buzzed in his hand and he took a look at the notifications. They were all from his roommate, the bastard.
Just now Di © K: Hope ur ok where ever the fuck u r
One minute ago Di © K: Shit akuma
Two minutes ago Di © K: Oi whered u go
Three minutes ago Di © K: ? Di © K: Lulu Di © K: Heeeeey Di © K: Hey
… Didn't the whole thing with akumas mean he should have stayed indoors? With her?
He wasn't sure he could sit on his bike comfortably for the next little while anyway.
Mister Bug swore almost every other akuma was some damned mind-control wizard. Of course it had to be one of those today, and of course today Lady Noire was especially pissed off so she was slightly more reckless than usual. Which was saying something, as Mister Bug had seen her go on a rampage not 8 hours ago and that had been one of the quickest akuma fights he'd ever seen. Seen and not participated in, as he'd been left nothing but cleanup.
Heatstroke or whatever had literally thrown the akumatized object at Lady Noire's feet after she had beaten and clawed the shit out of him. He was cowering in the relative security of a dumpster bin when Mister Bug found him.
She must have really loved her sleep. It'd been maybe 2am?
This latest akuma called herself the Directator. She'd been managing a movie set and of course something had gone wrong early in the day. So Hawky gave her the power to truly direct everything to her heart's desire or similar bullshit like that. Mister Bug and Lady Noire took maybe a few minutes to try to figure things out when Lady Noire skipped straight to the attack phase, beating Directator with the director's chair.
He should have noticed that she was ready to pounce when Lady Noire's ears were angled back and her electric green tail was whipping back and forth in a threatening fashion. She'd been way more actual-cat-like than he ever was as Chat Noir.
Directator panicked and commanded Lady Noire to 1) stop attacking her, 2) put the director's chair down gently, 3) be a nice kitty, 4) take off and go.
Mister Bug spent the next few minutes chasing after Lady Noire. When he finally caught up with her and stopped her, she put up her hands. He sighed with relief that she still wanted to work with him. He'd been relieved all up until she started slapping him with those hands and he fell back in surprise. She took off again.
It looked like she was heading in a particular direction so, after deciding to stay back a bit, Mister Bug trailed after her to see where she ended up. He didn't have to wait too long until she stopped running across the rooftops and dropped down to street level, where she seemed to chat up a dude in full riding gear next to a motorcycle. The next thing he saw was Lady Noire taking motorcycle guy by the waist and using her baton to propel them both to the roof of the tallest nearby building.
Maybe he should… do something about that? Especially since it seemed like Motorcycle Guy was screaming out a "what the fuuuuck".
Mister Bug went after them and found Motorcycle Guy sitting against the raised ledge of the building with Lady Noire curled up against him, sitting on his lap. Adrien coughed to hide and try to suppress his laughter. Motorcycle Guy raised his visor (oh hey, it was Luka) and asked "What's going on?"
Before Mister Bug could answer Lady Noire leapt up and stamped her foot in front of Adrien. "No! He's mine! Leave us alone!!" she hissed.
"I'm what?" Luka said incredulously.
Mister Bug backed up a few steps to placate her. "Yeah, okay," he chuckled. "You're being a nice kitty, right?"
She huffed and crossed her arms. "I'm always nice."
"You're right. So the nice kitty will let me talk to her friend for a minute, right? 'Cause you're such a nice Lady Noire?"
"Only a minute," she said unhappily. She was pouting.
"Great!" Mister Bug said cheerfully. He walked over to Luka and contemplated what to do on the way.
(Just a bit earlier)
Where had Marinette disappeared to? Luka had knocked several times after she shut him out but she didn't answer. He pressed his ear against the door to see if he could hear anything but it was dead silent on the other side. She wouldn't have made out with him and thrown him out like this and ghosted him… would she? It didn't seem like a Marinette thing. Not that he was an expert in all things Marinette… one day he'd like to see if she'd let him become one though.
He had loitered around her place for probably 20 minutes trying to convince himself to not break in and find out what happened. He'd have to respect her privacy and he did, really, but the last akuma attack magically teleported her to his someone else's bed and his thoughts were slowly spiraling into dangerous territory, where he imagined her ending up in Adrien's bed and her realizing she had better people than Luka to roll around under the bedcovers with.
Be cool, man, he thought at himself. Not going to help anyone if he suffered a mental breakdown. There might be a non-zero chance that she ended up back at his place? Okay that seemed too optimistic but… he should probably let his flatmate know he was fine and that he was heading back anyway.
He walked out to his bike after putting his jacket back on and unlocked the rear seat off to get to his helmet. He'd been ready to get back on the bike and ride off when he heard more than saw someone plunk down next to him. He turned and Lady Noire was looking directly at him. "Hi Luka," she said. "I need you."
"For the akuma?" He asked. Maybe he needed to be Viperion again? "Okay?" She rushed in and threw him over her shoulder, then they were a hundred meters in the air. "What the fuck?!"
He got plopped down against the ledge of the building and then she sat curled up on him. It might have been his imagination but… she was purring? This was… not making any sense at all. Luka saw Mister Bug land on the roof and the spotted hero managed to get Lady Noire off of him for a minute.
Mister Bug walked over and sighed before talking with Luka. That was a bad sign. "I'm sorry to have to ask this, but could you… stay with her until I can deal with this akuma? I just needed to know she's safe and in one place."
"… What?"
"Mind control akuma. Lady Noire's been hit with some weird commands." Mister Bug paused and looked thoughtful. "Hmm, I don't know, actually. Seems like she's just doing whatever she wants to outside of being ordered to leave the scene."
"Can't you fix that? Or… maybe get me out of here?"
"It'll be fixed after I deal with the akuma. I don't know if you noticed but Kitty here has been pretty extreme recently. Might be safer for everyone, including both me and you, if she's here and not ordered to Cataclysm anyone or anything." Mister Bug dropped his voice to a whisper. "Never thought she'd be a loose cannon. She might just attack me again so I'm not going to tempt fate if she just wants to hang out with you." Mister Bug shrugged at Luka. "Hey, greater good and all that. I promise I'll fix this as soon as I can. Take care of her, alright?"
"Hey wait--" "Bug out!"
Mister Bug up and left them. Shit. Lady Noire came walking back and looked over the edge of the building to make sure Mister Bug was gone. She sat back down next to Luka. "Okay, good, it's just us!" she beamed, hugging him.
"Uh," Luka started uncomfortably. "Not… to try to make things any weirder, but… could you get off of me?"
She pulled back, looking hurt. "You don't like me?"
"I… don't know who you are. I mean as a person, not a superhero." Luka tried to say that gently enough to not set her off. "I might like you if I got to know you?" He backtracked, feeling unsure. "But I mean, I'm just not great with the touching. I'm… into someone and it feels wrong to have someone else be this close."
Her ears flattened out to the side. "Who's that?" she asked, half sad and half… bitter? He felt like he just waded into turbulent waters. He didn't want to throw anyone under the Lady Noire murder bus, least of all Marinette.
"I'll tell you if you stay here," he compromised, hoping that he didn't just sign any death warrants. "Besides, you know her already. She usually chases after you."
"Alya?!" Lady Noire was shocked.
"No, Marinette? She always runs out to--"
"But I'm Marinette."
"… You. You're Marinette? Marinette Du--"
"Dupain-Cheng, yeah. That's me."
Oh. "… I thought you weren't supposed to tell anyone who you were?"
She snorted. "I can do whatever I want!" She leaned in closer. "So does this mean I can touch you again?"
It was just a few moments shy of Mister Bug letting the ladybugs set everything back to normal, so he ignored the notification on his yo-yo from Lady Noire. He checked it after and saw one line: "Taking Luka home now! ;)" Oh boy. Well, she should be relatively okay now. Luka would be fine.
Hopefully…
Lady Noire started whining and that whine turned into a full blown scream in the middle of dropping from the roof, just as the Miraculous Cure worked its magic over her. Luckily she still landed softly enough while she held onto Luka, so it wasn't that she had lost control or anything. She immediately jumped away from him after setting him on his feet.
"Oh my god I am so, so, so, so sorry Luka," she cried, covering her entirely red face with her hands.
"Thank god you're back to normal," Luka sighed, leaning back against the building.
"Any chance you could forget all that?" Lady Noire asked nervously, dropping her hands back to fiddle with her baton. She looked like she wanted to leave Earth as soon as she possibly could.
All that included him taking his helmet off, her crawling back into his lap and grinding herself against him, her ripping apart his jacket and shirt (they were fixed now), peppering him with kisses and tiny bites everywhere, and doing all of this while she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng underneath it all. He did his best to keep up and reciprocate but she was superpowered. She barely let him breathe but he survived. And he'd enjoyed it. He had enjoyed the hell out of it. But at the same time he had gotten thoroughly overwhelmed.
He didn't want to forget all that, but… "I can if you want me to," he sighed. She'd been mind-controlled, after all. "It was all the akuma, right?" Too bad. "What… about earlier?"
She opened her mouth to reply but inhaled too quickly and started coughing. "Um, I…" She coughed again. "Er. Um…" She bit her lip and looked down, muttering something to herself.
Goddamn it, Plagg. Plagg had mentally kicked her and the voice in her head said "Cat's already outta the bag, toots, you've been wanting to mount that guy for-e-ver. Don't you dare take it back." It startled her enough to cause her to choke on air.
"Um, I… Er. Um…" She kicked at the ground. She wanted this. She wanted this. No mind-influencing akuma had told her to kiss him, that had been completely her. "No, don't… don't forget anything. I wanted all that," she sighed. "It was all me."
He raised his helmet visor to get a better look at her. "Are you sure?"
She nodded and looked back up at him. "I'm sure. I… kinda want to continue, too?"
It sounded like he choked. "I… wouldn't mind that."
She glanced back at her apartment a few blocks away. "See you in a few?"
(Some time later)
Luka hadn't completely gotten used to waking up with someone else in bed. He wasn't sure if he ever would, since every time he woke up next to Marinette it'd been nothing short of amazing and he'd felt like he was dreaming but no, she was actually there.
Occasionally he'd have to deal with waking up in the middle of the night because she'd leave for patrol, or had come back from it to snuggle back into his arms. It wasn't really a problem because they were together in the morning.
He didn't really miss waking up alone.
108 notes · View notes
leiainhoth · 4 years ago
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Work summary: For so long, Din fought the reality of giving the child up, giving him to the jetii and moving on. He had prepared for it, packed a bag and left it all behind, so his son could have the life he deserved. All until he didn't have to. Or the one where Luke rescues Grogu on Tython, and Din rescues Luke in return.
Chapter summary: Din, Luke, Cobb and the rest of the caravan begin their journey to Mos Espa
... 
The sun had set hours ago, and Din leant into the sways and dips of his bantha as they traversed the desert. It was late, and the sky was darkening, the deep blues and purples fading into a deeper blue Din hadn't a name for. The stars were blinding, hanging in clusters and constellations, so many of them Din had no need for light. The moons hung deep on the southern horizon, and Din turned his head as the light reflected on his companions, fixing his gaze on Luke as his golden hair glowed silver in the moonlight. Din quirked a smile, watching as Luke talked animately to Scoeeri Plebb, the woman whose bantha he had been following for the past few hours. The child was asleep, lulled by the constant movement and the lack of interesting things to eat. Din smiled, it was going to be a long journey, and the child would need his rest.
He pulled a strip of jerky out of his belt and lifted his helmet to take a bite. He hadn't hesitated to take the rear of the caravan when they set out, letting Vanth and a Tusken by the name of A'Vor lead. He had taught Vanth the basics of the Tusken language that afternoon and told A'Vor that he could translate if need be. They seemed to get along well; the caravan had been moving in a steady north/northwest path for two hours, en route to Mos Espa. If all went well, they'd arrive in ten days' time.
Din was tired for other reasons, ones he wasn't able to put into words. He had taken Luke's hand in a moment of weakness; in the cantina when he thought he would lose Luke to this panic, he held him. Din wished he could offer more, come closer, bring Luke into his arms and rub his back the way he did for the child when he was afraid. It would be too much, too much too fast, and what if Luke refused? The jarring split would be worse than the pain of seeing Luke that way.
He had led,  taken  Luke back to the house after he calmed down some. He hadn't let go of Luke's hand, but the  jetii  didn't seem to mind. The baby settled against Din's chest, and with both hands occupied, he let Luke open the door and shut it carefully, letting the kid crawl out of his arms.
"What are you afraid of?" he asked again, and Luke shut his eyes, his body tense and still. Din wanted so badly to pull the man close to him, to feel his smaller body close to his own. He wanted to pat down that fluffy hair that never quite lay flat, to rub his thumbs up and down his arms like his mother had when Din was frightened. He wanted this and more but balked, not for reasons of his own. He wanted Luke to feel comfortable with him,  safe  with him. He couldn't have that if Din let his feelings get in the way.
Whoever Luke imagined Fett to be, whatever history they had together, it didn't make sense. Fett had called Luke an  aruetti,  an outsider, foreigner. Someone dangerous, someone with ill intentions. But Din didn't see that in Luke. The man was golden, bright as the sun. He was untainted, unbroken, his spirit filled to the brim with joy and contentment. Din wanted that, wanted  him—  this strange man in his life, this  jetii  he had known for less than a day. Something different, something off, something  about  him that drew Din in like a moth to a flame. Luke was a mystery, a man with incredible gifts, a  jetii  who had left his family and his home for the cries of a child on the planet below. The man who had stayed, certainly longer than Din expected him to, to train the baby in the ways of his people. It was a debt Din could never repay. It meant more to him than he had words to explain.
But it wasn't just a debt, now. The man was the first rays of dawn, the feeling of dew in the sand. He was bright, the burning light of the sun, and Din couldn't help but be drawn to his light, to orbit around his brightness, unwilling to admit he was being turned. He had made breakfast for the man with only a twinge of guilt, heating the leftover meal Cobb Vanth had prepared for them with careful attention. He thought back to how Luke fancied the blue pudding, and abandoning his own need for sustenance (surely he'd eat later), he dished out equal portions for Luke and Grogu, wanting desperately to feel useful. If he wasn't, if he was brash and uncaring, Luke would leave. He couldn't bear even the thought of it. The memory of his  jetii  after the battle on Tython stirred panic into his heart. The head wound was serious, much more severe than he was willing to admit to himself at the time. Bacta could only do so much; the rest would come with time. But the blood, there was so  much  of it, pooling and collecting in the creases of the man's nose, in his lips, dripping down his neck. It was on Din, too, and both blood and guilt dipped and flowed over his consciousness as he sat vigil over this stranger he didn't even know the name of. And why?
He had saved the child, of course, he had. Din and Fennec wouldn't have been able to on their own. The child would've died had Luke not interfered. But it was more than that, something Din couldn't admit to on pain of death, knowing, of course, that death might've been kinder. Din had held his  jetii  at arm's length, watching carefully, observing him always. Noticing when he sat and when he stood, what he ate, how he looked for permission before touching his son. Din appreciated it; the care and attention Luke showed for his child stirred something in his heart he thought had long ago calcified. Something close and desperate and warm, something Din had only ever felt with his parents and, more recently, with his son. Something eerily reminiscent of—of—
No,  he told himself later that day, collecting the child's toys from the house.  No, it's off the table. Forbidden. To love is to be known; this vessel is not mine to bear.
And more presently, the child needed him. Or so the excuse to himself went.
So instead, he watched, smiling as Luke did, observing as he swayed back and forth on his bantha. Din turned about, as he did every few minutes, his hand on his pulse rifle, taking care to protect those around him. But the desert was quiet, the sand still over the dunes, the stars hanging like crystals in the sky.
The saddle beneath Din dug uncomfortably into his  shebs,  and he wondered when Cobb was going to stop and make camp for the night. Din understood the Marshal's desire to leave as soon as they were able, but Din's nerves prickled as he watched the empty desert. Any number of dangers could be hiding in caves, ducked behind the dunes. The light was dim, but the stars and the moons, as well as the infrared setting on his HUD made it easy to see danger as they presented themselves.  If  they presented themselves.
Din rode in silence for some time, his eyes finding Luke as he laughed at something his companion said, his voice light and airy.  Did the Jedi need to sleep?  Din thought with amusement, something warm prickling in Din's chest as Luke leant forward and rested a hand on his bantha's side, speaking quietly to the animal.
Din forced his eyes onto the desert, his ears listening carefully to his companions. But he couldn't focus; Din only caught some of Luke and Scoeeri's words to one another and less of what Luke said to his bantha.
"What are you doing?" Scoeeri asked softly, and Din's head shot up, watching Luke carefully as he laughed, patting the shoulder of his bantha with what Din could only describe as affection.
"I'm speaking to him," Luke said.
Huh.
Din looked down at the child. "Can you do that too, kid?" Grogu didn't respond, looking up at his father with wide eyes, his fingers tangled in bantha fur. Din watched as Grogu gummed at the edge of his blanket. "Guess not,"
Din watched carefully as their caravan continued, smiling to himself as Vanth and A'Vod shared a laugh, nervous though it may be. His other companions, two humans and two Tuskens whose names Din hadn't caught spoke rode quietly, one behind the other. Perhaps things could change, even in a backwater desert like Tatooine.
"We'll stop here for the night," Vanth said with a laugh, and Din sighed in relief, pulling the child out of the saddlebag with a careful hand so he could see, settling the baby in his arms. Before them, the path was a gentle decline, the open maw of a cave protecting a small valley filled with scrub grass. Din watched as the others dismounted, laughing to himself as they walked away from their mounts with a bowlegged stance. Maybe his  shebs  wouldn't be the only ones aching tonight.
The baby cooed at the sight, suddenly wide awake as Din swung off the back of his bantha, laying a gentle hand on the creature's nose before leading it to the grass to graze.
"Mando," Vanth said, and Din looked up, watching as the others began to set up camp. Luke came close, suddenly looking so much younger than twenty-eight in the moonlight. He gestured for the child, and Din let the baby spill into Luke's arms without a second thought, walking towards Vanth with a barely contained smile on his lips.
"Anything to report?" Vanth asked, looking past Din into the desert behind. Vanth had picked a good stop to rest; the cave buttressed an embankment too high to climb, with the mouth of the cave being the only discernable entrance. There were ten of them in total, with eight bantha's and a speeder bike loaded with supplies to guard. It shouldn't be too much trouble.
"Nothing," Din said, trying to focus on Vanth, but failing, his eyes catching Luke speaking quietly to A'Vod's  riduur,  a swaddled baby he hadn't noticed held in her arms. Luke ran a hand over the child's head, Grogu peering curiously at the child from Luke's arms. "It's quiet,"
"Yes," Vanth said, clapping a hand on Din's shoulder. "Let's get some grub started, I'm starving,"
Din helped Vanth unload the gear, watching carefully as A'Vod and his companion (Din believed his name to be Cor, but he'd ask later) made a fire, setting a three-legged tripod with a dangling chain over the flames. Scoeeri and her brother Laele were busy over a pot, adding dried pieces of krayt dragon and a prickly vegetable Din couldn't identify with gentle hands. A'Vod gestured for Din, and he stood, following the man as he led him to the mouth of the cave. Instantly, the temperature dropped, their camp conversation fading to silence as they entered the cave.
That was when they found the water.
It was plentiful, flowing gently over stones, looking to be both clear and cold. Din smiled to himself, thanking A'Vod for his discernment (for surely he communicated to Vanth the need for water when they picked a place to stop. Water was precious on Tatooine, and Din felt honoured to have been entrusted with the knowledge).
Din signed thank you to A'Vod, who nodded in recognition, and Din followed as they walked to retrieve the empty water skins.
The camp settled into a steady rhythm, with the water from the cave, Scoeeri and Laele set the pot over the flames to cook. The bantha's grazed, and the children played, Luke and Varre watching and speaking quietly to one another. Din helped Vanth and Cor lead the bantha's to water and then unloaded the tents, setting them up for use.
They ate merrily, Din taking their food and the child away to the edge of the camp under the guise of keeping guard to eat on their own. The child was content to sit on Din's lap, the warm stew disappearing quickly as Grogu ate. Din took the rare opportunity to eat his food without hurrying, revelling in the silence of the desert wind around them. He drained his water skin and put his helmet, gathering the child and their dishes when he stopped short.
Luke was there, standing quietly beneath the ridge, looking happy and calm in the moonlight. His  jetii'kad  hung on his belt, and Din wasn't sure what to say at his sudden appearance.
"I was wondering if you'd like some company," Luke said, taking the empty bowls from Din's hands. "Scoeeri and I are almost done the washing up,"
"Oh," Din said, shuffling the baby to his other arm just for something to do, watching as Luke smiled at him and walked back down the ridge.
"Are you coming?"
Din grinned, looking down at the child with a leap in his heart, following Luke as he led them back to camp.
A'Vod and Varre's  ad  was older than Din initially thought, old enough to walk with help, and Din let Grogu down to play at Varre's direction, turning his attention to Luke and Scoeeri. Luke took Din's dishes and washed them, up to his elbows in soapy water, talking animately to both of them as he passed the dish to Scoeeri to rinse and dry. Din took the bowl as it was offered, looking at the neat pile of bowls and spoons sitting on a towel beside him and stacked the bowl with others.
Once the washing up was complete, Luke helped Din organize the cooking things into a crate intended for their use and tossed away the dishwater.
His companions were sitting and laughing around the fire when Luke and Din returned, and Din grinned as Grogu turned from his new friend and ran into Din's arms. Din nodded at Varre and signed his thanks, which Varre returned. Apparently, Grogu was welcome company.
"There you are," Luke said with a grin, running a finger along the child's ear. Grogu cooed, snuggling close into Din's arms. "Did you have fun with your friend?"
Din let his mind open as he looked carefully down at his son, feeling the thoughts and contentment of the baby wash over him. He was thrilled to have another child to play with.
"Yeah?" Luke said, looking down at the baby with affection. "That's good, then,"
"What's he saying?" Din asked, looking up to meet Luke's eye.
"Oh, nothing," Luke said with a secret smile, looking down at the baby. "Aren't we allowed to have secrets from your  buir,  Grogu?"
The baby warbled something incomprehensible and giggled, and Din smiled, rocking the baby back and forth. He didn't mind secrets, not between Luke and the baby. He was glad that the child had someone to talk to, pleased that he could understand the child's basic thoughts and emotions, content that if the baby had something important to tell him, he could do so.
Din looked over the baby and the fire to where the tents were pitched. He hadn't thought about it when they assembled them in the first place, but there were six; one for the siblings, for the married couple, for Cor and Vanth and Din and…
Oh.
The last two tents were close together, nearly touching. Almost as if…almost if...
Din blushed, blushed harder than he'd blushed in a long time. They had assumed, they had thought…and Din had given Vanth no reason  not  to believe that he and Luke that they were of one body. He hadn't thought about it; Din didn't give a second thought to what others thought of him. But one could've concluded, could've  assumed  that he and Luke were…
What?  Together?
Close enough to sleep side by side?  Riduure?
Din breathed steadily, forcing himself to stay calm. There were still two tents, still enough space for Din to relax and remove his armour for sleep. But they'd be so  close,  nothing but thin fabric separating them from one another.
Something in Din's heart leapt at the thought, a thought he hadn't given any power to since he was an  ad  in Nevarro. His face was his soul, giving someone else the power to see him…see him like  that…
"Bedtime, I think," Cobb Vanth said from the other side of the fire, startling Din out of his thoughts. "A'Vor here volunteered for the first watch, Laele for the second. The rest of us better get some sleep before morning comes,"
Din retrieved his and the baby's supplies from their saddlebags and walked with unsteady feet towards his tent, very aware of Luke behind them, making similar preparations. But there was nothing else to do, nothing Din could do to delay this moment any further, so he turned, facing Luke with trepidation.
But his companion, if he noticed, didn't comment on Din's stiffness, taking a step forward with a smile.
"Goodnight, Grogu," Luke said softly, gripping the baby's hand in his own. "See you in the morning, little one,"
Din watched carefully, his breath catching as Luke's attention turned to him. The air turned, lifting into something sweet and anticipatory as Luke looked up, something in his eyes softening as they considered one another.
Luke took Din's hand and quickly squeezed it, the warmth of his hand almost too much for Din to bear. "Goodnight,"
"Goodnight, Luke,"
And Din watched with his heart in his throat as Luke entered his tent, unable to do the same. It was as if something had cracked and spilled open in Din's chest. Something warm and welcoming, a feeling of  home  he hadn't felt since his parents died.
Din smiled, looking down at Luke's tent before turning to his own and retiring for the night.
Continued 
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kevkesblog · 4 years ago
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Translation: Julian Brandt Interview for “11 Freunde” (June 18, 2020)
Attention: long post! Julian talks about overblown salaries in football, why he even stays at two-star hotels, why he thinks football should not be dramaticly reformed and why you won’t see him in Gucci clothing & more.
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Julian Brandt, what do you miss the most at the moment?
Ju:     Just going outside and sitting in a café with some friends. Enjoying a bit more freedom. But I think many people have the same wishes right now.
Yet, the break because of the Corona pandemic seem to have lifted you. You were involved in all four goals during the 4-0 win against Schalke.
Ju:     I would still have preferred it, without the break. I mean it’s like this: sometimes you need just a few days to arrive at a place, sometimes it takes months. Feeling well in a city, a club and with my teammates is important. I’m a football player that needs a comfortable environment.
How was it for you at BVB in the beginning?
Ju:     There were definitely no fireworks at the beginning. But honestly, I kind of expected to need more time. I think thats normal after five and a half years at Bayer Leverkusen. It was a great time there, but in the end it was a comfort zone for me. I switched to BVB because I wanted to do something new.
And because Marco Reus asked you.
Ju:     Many people were in favour of me going to Dortmund. Even my mother wore yellow pullovers astonishingly often, during the time before my transfer happend. And Marco asked me at the national team, that’s true. I felt honored, but I saw a chance playing for a team which plays competitively for the title until the end of the season and is represented in the Champions League regularly, those were the main reasons for my transfer.
What else is different in Dortmund than in Leverkusen?
Ju:     Dortmund is bigger in almost every regard. Even the stadium is enormous and it becomes even more imposing with people in it. Building such a stadium somewhere is one thing. Brining it to live however like in Dortmund – that’s an art in and of itself. You don’t get that very often in Europe. Leverkusen – and I have to be honest here – has never been on my radar for me as a boy. But it’s the perfect club if you want to develop as a young player. I already suspected this after I talked to Rudi Völler for the first time.
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I was told, you said „Rudi Völler has honest eyes“ to your father afterwards.
Ju:     He has a sincere attitude. I would have believed everything he said. And his promises became reality. We were playing attractive and successful football. And you don’t get so much pressure as a young player from the outside. The media landscape for example is much smaller in Leverkusen than elsewhere.
Do you miss the fans in the stadium in Dortmund?
Ju:     I was never that guy who was aware of stuff that happend on the stands. But after the game against Inter Mailand, where we were behind 0-2 before the break and won 3-2 in the end – I recognized how important football is for the people here and how much they were willing to support us. It was so honest, authentic and direct. One of the best games thus far.
Before that Michael Rummenigge critized you as „C-youth player“. That was after the Inter game where you scored as well. Was that a key moment?
Ju:     Everybody can voice their opinions that’s totally fine for me. I’m not a person who jumps on it.  And I wasn’t really satisfied with my game as well. Perhaps the 2-1 win against Gladbach a few days before was a turning point. Not only, because I scored twice, but rather because I was able to play on the ten for the first time. After that my game became better.
You said in the beginning of your time at BVB „Peter Bosz liked the risk. We don’t really have that here in Dortmund“. Did the way you play now changed?
Ju:     We play nice football under Lucien Favre. He likes an offensive tactic. Adding that, we score alot of goals. But Peter Bosz was a special coach in that regard because we played a modern version of football with a high amount of ball possesion – often over 80 percent. And we not only wanted to keep the ball all the time, while playing until our opponent gets tired like it’s the case with tiki-taka football. We were always on the attack. At BVB we put more emphasis on the defensive at the beginning. It was a change for me, since I wanted to have the ball and not running behind him all the time.
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Is football an elegant game?
Ju:     My room as child was full of „Bravo“-magazine posters with offensive players. Nedved, Robinho, Del Piero and the best among the best: Ronaldinho. I liked it whenever players carry their street football skills to the pitch. Whenever somebody is looking for something spectacular. I want to gamble and not just act in a rigid system.
Doesn’t modern tactics prevent something like this?
Ju:     You are basically being funneled at youth football academies with: receive the ball, passing, receiving, passing. There a strict requirements you have to follow. But I think good teams need self-confident players, saying „No, I won’t fit in, but I rather go into a one-on-one situation“. We have such guys in our national team. Leroy Sané or Timo Werner. Kai Havertz is a player who has a street football mentality too. Often it looks very easy, but it’s not. It just passed over into blood.
You are wearing the jersey number 10 at the national team. Like you also wore at Leverkusen. Does that do something with you?
Ju:     I feel lighter in some sense. Perhaps because I know that you have to earn the number ten. Not like in the past, but I do think it has a certain meaning yes.
We heard you don’t like to talk about your strengths. Why?
Ju:     I think, it looks like I’m a show off. I have enough self-confidence already.
Yet you do know that you can shoot really good. Who taught you?
Ju:     Many things happened because I just tried. I even knew as a ten-year old boy: if I want to become a great football player I have to be able to shoot well with both feet. So, for weeks I shoot with my left foot on our lawn. Shot, flank, pass. It helped a lot. I met Federico Palacios during my youth time in Wolfsburg. He taught me insane techniques. I had a phase were I was obsessively training my first contact: not trying to stop the ball between the lines, but rather take the ball without defender nor midfielder getting the ball instead.
What are your weaknesses?
Ju:     My headers. But I’m currently working on it and I often score. At least without opponent (laughs). Some people say I can work more on my defensive work. And yes, there is some truth to it, even after I already worked on it for quite some time. The thing is: I’m not an aggressive person, its not who I am. But of course, I understand whenever coaches say I need to have a certain minimum amount of aggressive behavior on the pitch.
Do you have a career plan?
Ju:     No, everything I do, I do spontaneously.
But everything you do looks so reasonable: youth football for your home club. Training at a football academy in Wolfsburg. Professional debut at Bayer Leverkusen, your transfer to BVB a year ago…
Ju:     Honestly: I could not have imagined going to VfL Wolfsburg as well at the beginning. Why should a boy do this, when he basically grew up just a 20 minute bike ride away from the Weser stadium in Bremen and was standing in the fan curve in his youth?
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Because Werder [Bremen] overlooked you?
Ju:     That’s not true. I even got invited to a try-out training. But then I looked at some other academies. I wasn’t only looking at VfL Wolfsburg. For example I looked at FC St. Pauli as well. Yet, I had the best feeling with Wolfsburg.
Why?
Especially during the ages 15 to 18 a lot is happening: you grow, your muscle mass is increasing, you slowly get to play with the professionals. On the other hand, many doors are opening. Your friends go partying for example. I liked being on a football academy for two and a half years. You couldn’t leave the campus after 11 o’clock in the evening. Apart from that we were very successful and won the German a-youth championship. But I can still remember how perplexed my parents were at the breakfast table, back when I told them about my decision to join Wolfsburg.
You are being called the “Anti-Star” of the business quite often. Does that do something with you?
Ju:     Many people seem to think it’s probably because I have no tattoos and my father is my agent. But to be honest: there are some football player clichées I fit in. I like fast cars. I like playing playstation and I have 40 pairs of shoes in my closet. I just try not to pretend to be someone else. I wouldn’t look good in a Gucci-pullover.
Others like to call you “premature”. You were allowed to train with the professionals at the age of 15 in Wolfsburg. How did you do that?
Ju:     That was insane and unreal. I was riding my bike to the training ground one day and the assistant coach Bernd Hollerbach took me to his side and said: “Introduce yourself to the coach”. So, I went into his office. “Hello Mr. Magath, I’m Julian from the under-17 team.” Of course, I was suspecting he already knew me otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten an invitation. But he was just staring at the television. After a while – it felt like an eternity – he looked at me, didn’t say a word, total silence and then he turned away. And then I was sneaking out of the room.
Magath wanted to test you?
Ju:     I was unsettled a bit, but I wasn’t thinking about it anymore on the pitch. It doesn’t matter who is on your side, or whether your opponent is twenty years older than you and who your father is.
Did you nutmeg someone?
Ju:     I would have been beaten for that. On the other hand: the pain fades away, the nutmeg stays (laughs). I remember I unintentionally shoot a ball into Marvin Hitz’s face.
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How many agents were lining up at your doorstep at the time?
Ju:     I stopped counting it after a while. I don’t think all agents are bad but I don’t need one at the moment. I have my father. He may not be Mino Raiola with thousands of contacts all over the world. But he doesn’t need them.
Nevertheless: this son-father-constellation also has it’s potential conflicts…
Ju:     Our family sticks together – we are very harmonic and strong. I can’t remember a time where we were had an argument. I lived together with my brother in Cologne. I also have a connection with my father because of football. He used to play for the first team at SC Borgfeld – which was also my first club. I still remember: we went into the clubhouse whenever the Champions League was on. It was the best day of the week.
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Now it’s about big business. Do you know your own worth?
Ju:     It was downgraded since the outbreak of the pandemic. I read that on so some sites.
But it’s still 40 million euros. What does such a number do with you?
Ju:     I can handle that because I can manage those numbers quite well. There is a lot money floating around in football. And I know its not easy to comprehend it with normal standards anymore. We live in our own bubble in that regard. The salaries in football are in no relation to what normal people earn – even with football being the greatest sport on earth. But why is that the case? Because sponsors are flushing so unbelievable high amounts of money into football. I think it’s important not to make the sport a luxury item. It has to stay affordable. In the stadium as well as in front of the TV.
Explain to us: why does a professional football player negotiate whether he should get 10 or 11 million euros per year?
Ju:     It shows how greedy people can be sometimes. But that’s not football specific. It’s as unfair as the richest one percent of the world’s population owning more than half of the world’s wealth, right?
Could this crisis perhaps be a chance in order for football to calm down?
Ju:     Perhaps in the short term. For the next one or two years. If any. I can’t imagine a player like Mbappé being sold next year for 80 million euros. Someone will always pay those insane sums of money.
How do you ground yourself?
Ju:     Through my family and friends. Many are studying or doing an apprenticeship. It’s never about money when we talk, I just like having a great time with them. We don’t need a luxury vacation. But one time: we went to Mallorca for four or five days just as we qualified for the Champions League with Bayer Leverkusen. We stayed at a normal two-star-hotel, one room with a bed and a bathroom – that was it. We went to the beach and relaxed.
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Has there never been a situation where a friend or family member had to take you back to the ground?
Ju:     No. I can’t remember that I ever reacted arrogant or snooty. Or a situation where I thought: “Wow. That’s not who you are”. I’m fully aware of my very privileged life. In short: my greatest worry is whether we will win or loose on the weekends. It’s important to be thankful and to remind yourself what you got every once in a while.
Why do you have to remind yourself stuff like that all the time?
Ju:     In order for it never to become normal. I know cheese costs about 69 cents at the grocery store and a different one costs 1,29 euros. But if a tool or device breaks down I sometimes just buy myself a new one. Whereas in the past I would have repaired it by myself.
But is football still the same game you fell in love with as a kid?
Ju:     Absolutely. The game itself hasn’t really changed much. Okay, we have the goal line technology – which I support. And we got the video assistant referee, were people can argue. I abstain in that question. Once in a while, new ideas are being floated: like reducing the playtime to 60 minutes, new tournaments, elite leagues – I think it’s all bullshit. Keep football like it is. The way we learned it. With all its faults and tricky aspects. Even if something goes wrong.
Like during the World Cup 2018. Did you know that you could be the first DFB-team leaving the tournament after the group stage?
Ju:     At some point he heard of it. It doesn’t really look good on your vita but it happened. Perhaps we needed this in order for something new to emerge. You have to remember: other great football nations also failed in similar ways. Italy, Spain or France all crashed out of the group stage after they won the World Cup.
Did the photo with Mesut Özil and Erdogan brought some unrest into the team?
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Ju:     The fact that almost all reporting was revolving around that topic was irritating sometimes. Don’t get me wrong: I think its important for the media to cover political topics extensively and with background stories. But I remember after the game against Sweden – after we barely won because of Toni Kroos free kick: shortly after the game you get asked whether the poor performance during the first 75 minutes were due to the photo – and you thinking: why don’t we talk about the game? Mesut became the poster boy for the disappointing World Cup. That’s nonsense. We all played shitty.
During the Confed-Cup the year before, many young players were in the team. At the World Cup the established players came back. Did Löw put his trust into the wrong players in Russia?
Ju:     You can come to that conclusion afterwards, but you don’t know it in advance. I could fully understand Low though. He was loyal and in some cases he felt some gratitude. He couldn’t and he didn’t want to replace a World Cup winner from 2014 with a young player. The way we were defeated at the World Cup was not foreseeable. Because we also played great football between 2014 and 2018.
The team made it to the semifinals at the EURO 2016 and you became second with the Olympic football team in Rio.
Ju:     A great experience with a team that was just thrown together. A contribution of Horst Hrubesch.
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What makes him special?
Ju:     He is just great, the guy! He’s from a different generation which you can tell with a lot of things around him. Once he wanted to show me how to shot from the side. I almost tore my muscle fiber doing it. But he manages it very well forming a team with young players. He’s a very free coach and very direct. He always called me lazy (laughs). And he has a very nice and dry sense of humor.
An example?
Ju:     Me and the Bender-twins were sitting together shortly before the semifinal against Nigeria. He came up and said: “Guys, losing today doesn’t make any sense anymore.” A funny sentence, but also true if you think about it.
Julian Brandt, you made over 200 Bundesliga games, played Champions League and participated in one World Cup. You just turned 24. Do you even still have time to suck it all in and enjoy it?
Ju:     Football is quick. I can still remember coming to Leverkusen – as if it was yesterday: my first game for the under 23 team against Essen. My Bundesliga debut against Schalke a week later. That was a little more than six years ago already. Crazy. Veteran players always say: “Enjoy it, because quickly your career will be over.” But how should you enjoy it? A game every four or five days. New photos, new events. You don’t have an awful lot of time to let everything sink in for a moment. I usually do that on new years eve. On a friend’s balcony. I even get sentimental then.
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lezliefaithwade · 3 years ago
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A Breath of Fresh Air
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The summer after my first year of theatre school, I was sleeping on the living room floor of my cousin's apartment in Toronto, trying to figure out what to do with my life. My cousin had been an actor before he became a quadriplegic in a car accident, and as I unadvisedly bemoaned my unemployment status, he said something like, "Seriously? You're complaining about your life? Don't make me burst a colostomy bag." He was right, of course. I wasn't in a wheelchair, though I did have a stepmother who had rendered me homeless because of her dislike for me. She was always saying things like, "Your hair can't be as ugly as that hat you're wearing." Or simply refusing to invite me to things like Christmas dinner. I always admired people with families. My boyfriend at the time was one of five kids who were always doing things together. Their house was always full of noise and activities. Even as a shiksa, I felt more at home there than with my stepbrothers and sisters, who never lost an opportunity to point out that I was weird. I wanted to stand up to them, but not wanting to cause my father any grief, I held my tongue and sought refuge elsewhere. It occurred to me that perhaps I was using the theatre as an opportunity to say things through characters that I couldn't find the courage to express myself.
The Toronto Star was still open on the kitchen table, and I rummage through the Want Ads, that dirty part of the newspaper near the back where complete strangers will soon become complete assholes in your life by forcing you to work menial jobs in humiliating uniforms for minimum wage.
"Find anything?" my cousin called from the bedroom, where two attendants helped wash and dress him.
"Social services are advertising for camp councilors to work with emotionally challenged kids."
"Oh yeah," He said. "That might suit you."
I'm not sure I knew what he meant but, I was beginning to think I'd outgrown my welcome. My cousin probably would have encouraged me to join the circus if the option had been available. Knowing my living room days were numbered, I thought it best to make an effort and apply.
I had no experience teaching drama—no experience working with kids and no experience going to or working at a camp. Despite all that, I was hired. It's worth noting that it's probably not a good sign if you get a job with no qualifications whatsoever.
My official position was Drama Councillor, and I prided myself that with only a year and half of theatre training behind me, I was well equipped to help others benefit from the wealth of my experience. I imagined myself, Maria Von Trapp, teaching children how to sing while they looked at me adoringly. Somehow, I conveniently blocked out the rebellious early stages she experienced and skipped straight to the good parts. Also, I might add, forgetting about the Nazis and having to climb over a mountain. Still, visions of me biking around camp with a group of happy campers behind me filled me with a sense of self-satisfaction.
As I packed my knapsack with deet and a secret stash of Twinkies, I thought of how only three weeks earlier I'd been in New York walking through Central Park and savoring Cappuccinos at outdoor cafés on Columbus. Now, here I was, ready for something different. The wilderness, I imagined, would be a welcome change—fresh air and loons instead of smog and sirens. I thought smugly about my classmates sweating behind visors at take-out windows shoveling fries into cardboard cups or wrapping sandwiches in tinfoil. Thumbs up to adventure, I told myself. The fact that I'd never once in my life enjoyed the great outdoors didn't factor into my mind. All of this changed with each accumulated minute of the 391 Kilometer drive north.
It was late afternoon when I arrived at the compound. Overcast, sullen, it was a place so secluded you'd need flares to find it. It had that distinct aura of someplace time forgot. A place left behind and neglected. In the brochure, the sun was shining, flowers filled the meadow, and you could practically hear laughter floating off the page. What I was looking at bore more of a resemblance to a situation in a Stephen King novel where camp councilors discover a pack of hungry teenage zombies have lured them to a seemingly idyllic retreat. Situated right in the heart of black fly country, I spent most of my days swatting insects so big they seem Jurassic.
During our orientation, child care workers warned us that children with mental health needs tend to run away - a lot and to keep strict attendance records and all eyes on them at all times. "These kids are resourceful and clever," they cautioned. I couldn't imagine being so determined you'd risk your life by escaping through the woods that surrounded us, but then again, I'd never been around children who weren't allowed cutlery before either
I shared my cabin with three other women with who I had absolutely nothing in common. Delia, a humorless 27-year-old cooking instructor who answered every question with a monosyllabic grunt, Jennifer, a 26-year old tennis instructor with massive blond ringlets who talked so quickly she sounded like a record on high speed, and an older aboriginal woman named Sunny who made us all dream catchers and offered advice about how to heal ourselves on days when we'd feel spent. "Remember, these kids need us," she said while purifying our cabin with sage. As I glanced around my assigned bunk, taking in the spider webs and loose floorboards, I had that sinking feeling that comes when you know you've made a terrible mistake. Before long, I was eating copious amounts of peanut butter on stale bagels amid a never-ending supply of starch. I'm not sure who thought it was a good idea to feed children with challenges like anxiety, depression, hyperactivity, and eating disorders copious amounts of sugar and carbs. It certainly did nothing to help them or me.
On the first day of class, I sat everyone in a circle. "Welcome to drama class," I said with a smile. "Let's begin by sharing with everyone a little bit about ourselves. Anything at all you'd like us to know?" A hand went up.
"I'm Tracy, and I hate my stupid ass brother. He can go straight to hell."
"Okay," I said, "That's a start. Who's next?"
Another hand. "I'm Jonathan, and this place sucks so much I wish it would burn to the ground!"
"Fair enough. Anyone else?"
"I'm Jo. I'm schizophrenic. So sometimes I'm Rachel and Julia. You'll know the difference because Rachel has a British dialect, and Julia talks slang."
"O-kay." I glanced at the social workers who sat on the edge of the room and looked at me with an expression that basically said, "We can't wait to see what you do next."
"Let's write a play," I suggested. "Write anything you want. Once you're happy with the work, I'll shape it into a cohesive piece that we'll rehearse and then present at the end of the season talent showcase."
The kids liked this idea. The showcase was a big deal. It was an opportunity for them to blow off some steam and express themselves to friends and family in a creative way. My only stipulation was not to use profanity. As the weeks passed, I was impressed with how well they all threw themselves into this project—all except Eric, the oldest boy in my 12 to 15-year-olds. Eric often wandered around the rehearsal space, unfocused and sullen.
"Any ideas for your piece?" I ask, checking in to see if I could help.
"I'm thinking," he'd say and then pace.
With three weeks left in the summer, I took my well-deserved week off to decompress. My boyfriend came up from Toronto and drove me to his parent's house at Post and Bayview, where caterers were preparing the tennis courts for an outdoor party. I walked into his mother's living room, and she gasped. "What happened to you?"
I didn't blame her. I hadn't spent much time looking at a mirror the past four weeks, but one glance at the large one in their bathroom told the full story. My hair was ratty; I had scabs on my knees, bruises on my arms and legs, and I was sunburnt. I was wearing a vintage skirt and blouse that was probably more Value Village than vintage and a pair of worn, scuffed purple moccasins; in essence, I was wearing slippers on my feet.
"Please take her to the mall and at least buy her a pair of shoes," his mother said, handing me her credit card and then rushing off to make sure the stuffed alligator would float in the pool. That week I ate my way through rugelach, hamantaschen, brisket, and bagels while his family watched me with awe and disgust.
Back at camp, the smell of burning insect repellent greeted me along with the news that the sailing and tennis instructors were sacked for disorderly conduct. Never mind, I had renewed energy and a sense of purpose. There were costumes and props to make. Sound and lighting effects to create. And we needed to rehearse. It was only a tiny stage somewhere on a remote camp in Northern Ontario, but the excitement was palpable. I was excited. This would be the best talent show ever, and my kids were going to blow the socks off everyone there!!!
"Eric," I said, "How's your piece coming along?"
"I finished it," he mentioned casually
"That's great. Can I see it?"
"I want to surprise you. You're going to love it, though. I promise."
I patted myself on the back. Eric had a breakthrough. All my encouragement and patience had paid off. Perhaps I'd helped him have a developmental breakthrough.
"Can you tell me what it's about?" I asked.
"The Beatles."
"Great. Okay," and left it at that.
Talent Night arrived along with parents and family friends. The lights dimmed, the kids performed, and the audience enthusiastically applauded as each "Mighty Mite" or "Spirit of Paradise" breezed across the stage, acting out skits about fairies and monsters and assorted escapades. Finally, it was Eric's turn. Out he came, looking serious and theatrical. He cleared his throat and addressed the audience.
"This is called, The Beatles Last Recording Session. By, Me."
Three of his closest camp friends filed out and took a space on the stage. The audience was silent.
There was a dramatic pause, then the piece began.
"Fuck you, Ringo,"
"Fuck you, Paul."
"Fuck you, George."
"Well fuck you, John."
Then they bowed and left the stage.
Personally, I thought it was kind of brilliant. Needless to say, I wasn't showered with accolades about my teaching methods or the effect I had on kids. I left there having no catharsis about mental health except that giving people the opportunity to express themselves without censor is probably a lot healthier than insisting they stay quiet. I admired the honesty displayed in the kid's work. If only, I thought to myself, I could be half as brave. Wasn't that what I was spending time and money learning how to do?
A week after being home, I found myself packing, once more, for school in New York. Our term letters had arrived with instructions on where to buy character shoes, leotards, copies of The Children's Hour, and Death of a Salesman. The camp already felt like it was 391 kilometers away - soon to be 659. My father drove me to the train station with my stepmother beside him; she was there, no doubt, to ensure I boarded.
"You going to be okay?" my father asked, giving me a hug and slipping a $50 bill into my pocket.
"She'll be fine." Elsie chimed in. "You don't have to worry about her. Let's go."
But I wanted my father to worry about me. Not all the time and to the exclusion of all else, but certainly the appropriate fatherly amount.
As I settled myself on the train, I watched my stepmother pull from father from the platform to the car and thought of Eric's brilliant play. Under my breath, I whispered the immortal words of the Beatles, "Fuck you."
#stepmother #mental health #children #young people #summer camp
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