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asdfghjklmals · 1 year

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BLAME GAME✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. daddy joke. WORD COUNT: 0.9k words. TAGS: boyfriend!gojo, satoru gojo x fem!oc. established couple. adoptedkiddo! megumi makes a small appearance.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend tries to play a prank on satoru, but he slips up and gets himself in trouble instead... AUTHOR'S NOTE: lol i saw a funny reel of this girl pranking her boyfriend and i got inspired. also used something from the jjk short stories. 😉 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

“satoru gojo!” you bellowed from the bedroom.

you heard his feet promptly shuffling to your room as your white-haired boyfriend peaked his head through the bedroom door. you repeated his name again.

“satoru gojo!”

“uh? yeah? that's me...” he stared at you, concerned and confused, walking slowly to the foot of your king sized bed.

“come here.” you said with no emotion in your face, using your index finger to lure him towards you. it took all of you to not burst out laughing in his face. it was amusing to see the soft and bewildered look on his face. he was really such an attentive boyfriend who loved you silly and he was truly worried.

“why are you calling me by my—wait, you never use my government name. we go by babe, baby, sweet cheeks, honey, and sometimes daddy in this household!” he stomped his feet jokingly, trying not to laugh because he couldn’t tell if this was a dangerous situation and if he needed to tread lightly. your lips twitched as you also tried not to laugh either or your cover would be blown.

“satoru, honey.” you said more calmly, but with a hint of danger in your tone. god, you deserved an emmy award for your acting.

satoru was going through all the events that happened today in his head, trying to figure out what he did wrong along the way. “we went shopping today, i made you your morning coffee perfectly may i add, i took out the trash, megumi did the laundry, and i didn't leave my socks around the apartment… so why are you using my government name like that?!”

“what do you think it is?” you questioned him.

“i literally have no clue. you should be having a good sunday so far and i was enjoying my day until you used my full name instead of baby. i haven’t even done anything yet!” satoru defended himself, scratching the back of his head. he was out of back up plans, it was time to resort to an emergency measure. kisses. lots of kisses.

he swiftly made his way over to your side of the bed and sat down next to your side, he grinned at you and tried to sneak a kiss on your cheek but you stopped him just shy of your face. his lips hit your palm instead. “you know what you did.”

“babe, what did i do? just tell me and i promise i’ll make everything right again,” he whispered as he kissed your ear. you felt the hairs on the back of your neck raise as you shuddered. he stared at you with piercing azure eyes, his sunglasses sliding down his nose bridge.

“why are you whispering?” you started giggling.

satoru gojo was a smart and calculated man (most days), but today, he was really at a loss. “why are you laughing?” he demanded to know.

“i saw the funniest video of a girl doing this exact thing to her boyfriend and you had the same reaction as him.” you kept giggling after explaining. your bright smile made your green eyes disappear, crows feet wrinkle, and your pearly whites glisten.

as much as satoru could melt by watching you laugh, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “i really thought you were upset with me! you never use my full name unless i’m in trouble with you. i thought my ass was going to be sleeping on the couch tonight for sure. my neck already started to hurt thinking about it.” he dramatized as he massaged the back of his neck, but it wouldn’t be satoru gojo without the theatrics.

“i had to go through all the things in my head that would’ve upset you like not taking out the garbage, leaving my socks around the house, fighting with megumi, not putting down the toilet seat after peeing cause of that one time you fell in, not separating the white and dark laundry colors, or even when the kids and i were at the maid cafe last wee—”

and that’s when satoru gojo saw his life flash before his eyes. he covered his mouth quickly with his free hand, his eyes wide open in terror. you glared into his panicked blue eyes.

“satoru gojo! you went where?! and you took megumi too?!” this time, there was no acting in your tone.

EXTRA:

“come on, megumi, pick up the damn phone. don’t forget that i pay for your phone bill.” satoru gritted through his teeth. he had just received a 20 minute lecture on how megumi and yuji didn’t need to be in a maid cafe and that he didn’t have any business being there either. it was actually an honest accident that they ended up there. the kids followed him into the maid cafe where he was scoping out an abandoned building where some curses were lingering across the street. he wanted to use the building as his afternoon lesson with his students.

“what do you want?” the younger fushiguro picked up, annoyance in his tone of voice.

“well, that’s not a polite way of answering the phone that your guardian pays the cell phone bill for.” satoru quipped.

“it’s always something with you, gojo-sensei,” megumi sighed. 10 years of putting up with satoru gojo did that to people. megumi wondered how you dealt with him. you deserved a nobel peace prize in his eyes.

“well, (y/n) found out about the maid cafe,”

“and you’re in trouble with the boss. cool, i’ll see you at home la—”

“no, no. not just me, we are in trouble.”

“it was your stupid idea to go there! who the hell scopes out an abandoned building at a freakin’ maid cafe?” megumi couldn’t believe that he was being dragged into a punishment too. last time he got in trouble, you took away his kindle that you and satoru had gotten him for christmas last year.

the white haired sorcerer pulled a picture out from his wallet. it was a picture of megumi and yuji from the maid cafe. satoru cunningly suggested a scapegoat, “how do we somehow put the blame on yuji?”

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me · 10 months

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HI DILLOOOO!!!

So sososososo, as a plant mother of 6, can you do headcannons of the gang with a s/o who loves plants and has like a ton that they constantly take care of?

If not no worries Ik it’s a kind of strange request love u (platonically) 🫶

A/N: For sure bro! I am the proud owner of 9 little potted plants, they sit in my kitchen windowsills and I dote over them with all of the love in my heart. I'm a huge fan of succulents and cacti, and I hope you're a big fan of these headcanons!

DARRY CURTIS

Darry is amused by your love of plants, thinks it’s cute how excited you get whenever you talk about them or whenever you get a new one

He’s not against your love for them at all and will offer up the windowsills in the kitchen for you to house all of your plants if you need the space

I have a feeling his Mom had a bunch of plants? Like flowers in the flowerbed outside, small plants in the windows and vases on the table so having plants back in the house is something special to Dare

Not that it’s not special to the other Curtis boys, I just think Darry sort of resonates with that sort of thing more? I don’t know, it just works okay? Trust me?

But also trust me on this, you do not want him anywhere near your plants and I mean anywhere at all

He’s bad at remembering to water them and definitely doesn’t have any sort of a green thumb so do yourself a favor, and your plants too, and don’t let Darry take care of them at all

SODAPOP CURTIS

Sodapop Curtis kills every plant he touches so for the love of God, don’t entrust your lovely little plants babies to him, they will not survive

He doesn’t mean to kill them! He just never remembers to water them or waters them too much or leaves them in the sun too long or moves them out of the sun or-

Soda does like giving you plants and flowers though! He’ll do flowers more often than anything else, just cause they’re easier to come by, but expect a few small houseplants every now and then

Yes, the flowers do come from the flowerbeds in the neighborhood, and yes, the flowers are often times just various weeds and wildflowers that he thought were pretty and figured you’d like

He tries to remember the names of all the plants? But you and I both know that Sodapop is wayyyy dyslexic and wayyyy forgetful so sometimes the names come out wrong

But that’s okay because he’s trying and you can tell and he’s just so adorable when he messes it up because once you correct him, he’ll repeat the word a few times just so he can try to remember it

PONYBOY CURTIS

This boy is surprisingly good at taking care of plants? And he’s very good about giving them the exact amount of sunlight and water that they needed and making sure that they’re growing the right way

Side headcanon that tacks onto Mrs. Curtis having plants, but Ponyboy was definitely the one who helped his mama water all the plants because he just would, ya know, it’s a Ponyboy activity

Pone likes to check out books from the library about plants, specifically flowers and their meanings, and sometimes the two of you will pour over them together, looking at all the pictures

He checks out even more books when you leave him in charge of watering your plants because heaven forbid anything go wrong with your babies-

Ponyboy likes to call the plants by their proper names, boy’s practically a plant identification app after he starts dating you, I swear to everything-

You show him a plant once and the next time you bring that plant up Pony will have at least three facts about it, the symbolism of the plant, and it’s directions for care

DALLAS WINSTON

If you have plants and you care about them at all, do not leave them in the care of our Mr. Winston, you will not have plants anymore

No matter how hard he tries, he just can’t keep plants alive and it’s literally the funniest thing ever because he does all the same things you do and still kills them- he thinks the plants have something against him

But, there is one plant he has that has managed to survive, a hearty little succulent in his room at Buck’s that has somehow not died yet

Of course, that little plant came from you and Dally loves that thing a whole lot but he will not allow himself to water it, for fear of killing it off, so he makes Buck water it and gets really upset if Buck doesn’t water the little plant on time

No matter what you name your plants or what the plants actually are officially titled, Dally will call them by the most obnoxious names because he doesn’t want to be bothered to remember what they are

He knows all the names, don’t let him fool you on that, but he’d much rather call them names like floppy green leaf and spiky bush

JOHNNY CADE

Johnnycake loves that you love plants, he thinks it’s sweet and cute how much you care for the little plants you’ve potted so carefully-

He’s very gentle if you leave him in charge of your babies, following any direction you leave him down to the exact letter, he will not mess anything up and everything must be done perfectly

Dallas likes to mess him up and bother him while Johnny’s watering your plants, saying things like “You weren’t supposed to do that one, ya know.” and “You sure you haven’t already watered that one, Johnnykid?”, and my personal favorite, “You think they’d notice if we swapped out a plant?”

Johnny very quickly stops involving Dally when you leave him charge of plant care

He likes learning about the plants too, he’s like a little sponge when it comes to the care information

Johnny’s really good about remembering which plants are which, even with the ones that look really similar and have similar names, he likes to ask you about them just to see you get all excited <3

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Two-Bit Mathews is a forgetful person and for that reason, I strongly advise against letting him take care of your plants, he will not remember them until they’re already wilting

That being said, he does think your plants are super cool and will constantly point out new plants to you and ask if you know what they are

It doesn’t matter if you know what they are or not, he trusts you completely when it comes to plants and you could flat-out lie to him about the plant and he would just nod like he understand exactly what you’re saying

Two-Bit really likes cacti I think, the spikier the better, and will always try to poke yours if you’ve got any, no matter how many times he ends up stabbing himself on the points

If you were to give him a plant, I think he’d actually cradle the pot like it was a real baby, super psyched on having his own plant and being just like you! (Give him one of those ones that are like nearly impossible to kill because if his plant dies, he will be very, very sad)

He keeps the plant you gave him in his room, perched precariously in his bedroom windowsill and makes it very clear that no one is to touch it because he’s afraid someone’s going to to kill it

STEVE RANDLE

THIS BOY. Loves to shower you with flowers and I mean all the flowers he can get his hands on, he gives ‘em to you whenever he sees you

Steve gives you small bouquets from the corner store, gives you the wildflowers growing on the edges of the lot, gives you the hearty little weeds that poke up between the sidewalk cracks

Do not let him take care of the plants. I will only say that once. Do not do it.

He can help you pot and move them if you need to move your plants, but he is way too heavy-handed when it comes to watering them and will drown your plants, it’s not at all, I swear-

You can tell when he messes with them too cause he’ll leave grease smudges on the pots and we all know, Steve doesn’t wash his hands nearly as much as he should, and to be honest, with his interest in cars, he’s constantly covered in oil and grease

It’s cool though, he’s way into cars, and you’re way into plants, it’s kinda cute when the two of you go on tangents about your interests and the other one just kinda looks at the first with hearts in their eyes

TIM SHEPARD

There is one (1) plant, one singular plant, in the whole Shepard household and you are the only reason behind its presence-

It’s in the kitchen, tucked behind the sink and seated right under the window, probably the best spot for a plant to be and it stays there proudly, vibrant and leafy and green

Tim pretends like he’s indifferent about your love for plants, not really having an official opinion on the plants you cherish so dearly, but he’d be lying if he said that his heart didn’t pitter patter at least a little bit faster whenever he sees that plant in the kitchen

Tim likes the plants that are easy to take care of, that only require weekly or bi-weekly waterings and absolutely no pruning, he just wants to dump some water and move on

He doesn’t have a green thumb and he doesn’t have the patience to deal with the plants that require a lot of effort-

He’s bad at remembering the names too and will just wave his hand vaguely when he’s trying to talk about one until you describe the plant in a way that he recognizes

CURLY SHEPARD

I can see Curls really digging plants? And just gently cupping a plant in his hands, those scarred fingers wrapped around a pot with the tiniest sprout poking up through the dirt

Imagine for a moment, if you will, tucking a flower behind his ear- something bright and colorful against those inky black curls while he rolls his eyes fondly and bows his head to give you a kiss-

He likes planting things with you, messing around the dirt and planting your various flowers and other greeneries in pots and flowerbeds

Curly will get bored with it though, very fast, especially if you’ve got to plant a lot or you’re working with boring plants, and he’ll try to get you to do something else instead

When you’re watering plants too, he’ll try and nudge your hand so you end up dumping more water than you needed to because he’s a mischievous little somebody who likes to mess with you

Expect a lot of flowers from him too! Little bunches of flowers from the sidewalk and from the yards he passes, clutched tightly in his hands and presented to you with the widest smile

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nouvell-vague · 4 months

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begin again.

warnings: toxic relationship, mentioning weight, slight cheating, insecurity, i think there's more but please let me know !!

you've been thinking that love isn't worth it and only makes you heartbroken and crying every night for the past eight months. you got used to ellie's behavior while you were in a relationship with her. she was always late on your dates—always. even being 30 minutes late was pretty early for her, or worse, she didn't come at all without telling you. she didn't like it when you wore any heels, even those mary-jane shoes you've been dreaming about, because she thought you looked uglier wearing them. ellie is the one who makes you worry about getting fat whenever you gain even a small amount of weight. she doesn't like your appearance if it doesn't match with her taste. she never laughed on your funniest jokes, always mocking your music taste and called it gross. you spent three weeks with crying alone in your bedroom after you caught her cheating with another girl, and it's not just a 'girl', the girl she cheated with was your close friend that you always vented about ellie to her which makes you think you didn't even deserve any love. you broke up with ellie right after the night you caught her, through message because you couldn't even stand yourself to see her face, it hurts so bad, so bad that you thought all girls were the same as ellie. ellie had made you so afraid to having a relationship again, with anyone.

then you met abby anderson a few months after you ended relationship with ellie. she's one of dina's friends that she had been friends with since 9. basically, dina is a matchmaker between you two since she was tired of abby because she had a crush on you for a while and she always vented to dina. you didn't really know about her since you always set your boundaries because ellie was really easy to get jealous. you were full of skepticism at first because you weren't really healed from the past, but dina convinced you that abby is different from ellie, completely different. the first meeting with abby was not really fine; you didn't pay much attention as your mind was busy with your fears and you barely listened to her voice. but as the time went by, what you feared about her was absolutely wrong. a month after the first meet, you could see how abby treated you and it was... different—no, ‘different’ wasn't enough to describe it. abby did things that ellie never did to you, and she didn't do anything that ellie always did to you.

dina was right about abby. she's entirely different from your ex-girlfriend. she always comes earlier than you on every date, or when she comes over your house—she'd came 10 minutes earlier than she said. she bought you a pair of heels that had been on your wishlist for months, saying that those heels looks so good on you.she always got your back every time you feel insecure about yourself, she would praise you, saying sweet things to your ear. she never mock your music taste, instead, she's amused. “you are.. wow, i've never seen any person who has a lot of music vinyls in my life like.. ever! do you mind if i play one of them? maybe i would like it.” then she played one of taylor swift's vinyl on record player, and she liked it, loved it even. which is why ‘so high school’ stayed on her 1st on repeat songs for months. abby laughs on your jokes, every jokes, even when you tell one of your jokes that made ellie pissed off, abby would laughing as she throw her head back like a little kid. “that is the funniest joke, you know?” oh, and it feels so strange to you because your ex would never do that, ever. saturday night, abby came over for another movie night and after the movie ended, you both shared stories, but you struggled to tell yours properly because you felt a bit shy and worried—worried that abby wouldn't listen as attentively as you did. however, she proved wrong. she listened to your stories, got excited, and, god, she even remembered your stories too well.

and on wednesday, you were on a date with abby, again. you two walking out from the cafe, your arms hugging abby's, wide smile on your face. you were about to get into abby's car, while she already inside. but you couldn't move your body as you saw your ex-girlfriend, alone, standing not really far away from you and looking at your eyes. there's no such gaze that you always saw on her eyes back then, you couldn't tell what she was doing. abby was confused why were you still outside, she went out from the car, “is there anything wrong—oh,” abby approached you right away as she knew what were you staring at, swiftly opening the car door for you while keeping her other hand on your back. “hey, let's go. don't we have another place to go?” your eyes were switched from ellie to abby, little awkward smile appeared on your lips. “yeah– sorry." you muttered. once you two already inside, no one breaks the silence, it was all awkward. you couldn't help yourself when your mind went back to those bitter memories, you didn't even realized your mouth opened as you started to talk, “so, abby, uh.. months ago when ellie—” right before you could say more, abby put her left hand on your palm hand, “angel, i just got an idea. what about we watch some movies this christmas? i used to watch those movies with my family every christmas, and i think you'll love it. what do you think?” your gaze was locked on hers, watching how well she tried to change the topic so you wouldn't have to bring up about your ex-girlfriend again. abby smiled to you warmly, waiting for your answer. and you couldn't help yourself from the tears on your eyes—you've never experienced anything like this before, not with ellie, who never appreciated you the way abby does. you began to think that perhaps love is worthwhile if you find the right person. maybe love doesn’t always lead to heartbreak, and maybe you can open your heart again and learn to trust someone new. in fact, you feel incredibly loved with abby, and she makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

the tears were coming down through your cheeks and it keeps going as abby's hand wipes your tears, “hey, hey, hey, angel, are you okay? is there something wrong or my idea was—” you shook your head in response, trying to calm down, but you were so overwhelmed by your feelings. “i'm fine, abby. i just...” you trailed off, looking at abby, who looked completely worried. you let out a small chuckle through your tears. “i'm really fine. i'm sorry for bringing up about her again all of so sudden when it's only two of us here, and i.. i never felt like this before when you tried to change the conversation and i really appreciate that, and all things you did to me it's all make me feel like.. i really deserve so much love because back then you know that i was—” abby cuts your words as her lips pressed against yours, and you didn't think twice to melt into her kiss. it was full of love and affection. once the kiss broke, you could see her warm smile, hand caressing your cheeks gently and wiping your tears away at the same time, “shh, don't bring that up again, okay? i know back then was too painful for you, and i want you to get over it because i want you to be happier than before, you really deserve so much love, angel.” you really sure about your face turns red as she speaks, you couldn't hide it. her words were made you feel better. “abby, can we.. uh..” it's hard for you to say the right words as you want to ask her for another kiss, but you were too shy. “speak up, sweetheart. before we go to gelato store that you recommended to me earlier?” oh really, those nicknames were always successfully made you flustered every time. “i– oh, fuck it.” asking her only prolonged things, so rather than wasting time stuttering, you chose to kiss her with your eyes closed. you felt embarrassed but happy when you heard abby chuckle during the kiss. and if dina asking you if you have already healed from the past after this date, you would answer it in less than ten seconds. yes, you healed.

a/n: i don't even know what am i writing right now but yeaaahhhhh !!!!!!! another weird fic is out !!!!

#abby anderson fluff #ellie williams angst #abby anderson angst #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson x female reader #lesbian #tlou fanfiction

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rarepears · 1 year

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Nie Huaisang, Lan Xichen, Jin Guangyao, and Nie Mingjue all reincarnate together into PIDW, and become disciples around the same time as Luo Binghe.

The drama of this is of course enhanced by the facts that NMJ & JGY died "early," but NHS & LXC lived to the end of their natural lives as cultivators, and so some of their perspectives and opinions on events have naturally changed with age. (tfw the passage of time renders you unfamiliar to your once-loved ones)

Eventually they talk about their feelings and reconcile and such, and this ends up derailing the plot of PIDW severely as the rest of the PIDW characters confusedly observe quite possibly the weirdest disciples Cang Qiong's ever seen

NMJ on Bai Zhan, with no clue what's going on because he died first and NHS & LXC haven't told him anything

NHS on An Ding, thoroughly enjoying what's pretty much a vacation to him at this point and possibly running an interpeak illicit goods market (definitely not to distract himself from any of the emotions having NMJ & JGY alive and nearby would be causing him, Everything Is Fine) I haven't decided if he'd get involved with the whole og!SQH and MBJ situation tho

LXC on Qiong Ding, because I feel like he'd see himself in Yue Qingyuan and lowkey hate him for it and I think that could be interesting

JGY on Qing Jing, because he's the objectively the funniest/most interesting character to throw into the mess that is SJ and LBH. The way I imagine it, he's doing the most direct derailing of the plot, because he mostly accidentally gets right in the middle of the thing that is going on between those two

I feel like as I wrote this it became more serious than I originally intended so just know that I'm mentally picturing this like a fic that's interspersed with outsider POV of the 4 of them being completely deranged about eachother

(Also I'd feel bad taking away LXC's brother so LWJ and WWX + friends are busy doing hot girl shit being rogue cultivators. I think WWX should be a half demon so he gets to keep the cultivation and steal some of LBH's protagonist energy. If this was a fic then the rest of the Untamed gang would be perfect to use for side characters during off-peak missions)

*grabs popcorn and sits down to hear more*

Nie Huaisang is having too much fun waiting the two idiots called his shizun and shizun's poorly kept secret of a boyfriend go flailing around on these terribly unromantic dates BUT THE TWO WERE TRYING SO HARD that it was cute. He wonders if he should do something to help the poor idiots out... Should he?

Maybe he should...

(Watch Shang Qinghua and Mobei Jun suddenly have a number of sex pollen accidents over the next few months....)

Lan Xichen would be an old man and a good voice of reason for Yue Qingyuan. Although he's head disciple and a very good one at that (if only because his Big Brother instincts can't be held back and he MUST interfere to help prevent history repeating once more), Lan Xichen has made it very clear that he would never accept becoming sect leader.

Also don't forget Liu Mingyan in the background writing about a 4 person sex orgy. At least, that's her personal theory for why there's so much UNRESOLVED TENSION between these four sus male disciples. And also, because it's fun.

It's even funner when you consider that Nie Mingjue is out of the loop of Cang Qiong stuff even on Bai Zhan because he tags along on so many of Liu Qingge's missions that he's probably spending like 8 months of the year outside of the sect.

(Nie Huaisang gets "assigned" to missions that happen to take place near Nie Mingjue's hunts.)

Meng Yao is Meng Yao and he still craves the approval of Male Authority Figures That Could be his dad. Also Meng Yao still likes to climb up the social hierarchy and power. AKA Luo Binghe growing mushrooms in the corner at seeing ANOTHER QING JING disciple THE SAME AGE AS HIM being given SO MUCH ATTENTION AND APPROVAL by shizun.

Luo Binghe develops a complex over Meng Yao of course.

(Shen Jiu approves of Meng Yao because he understands these characters very well and know how to manipulate (cough kill or injury them physically or mentally) them easily. Plus Meng Yao is actually competent.)

[More in #Nie Huaisang Lan Xichen Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue reincarnate into PIDW and are Cang Qiong disciples at the same time as Luo Binghe is AU

#mdzs #mao dao zu shi #mxtx #the untamed #svsss #svsss au #svsss ideas #scum villain's self saving system #lan xichen #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #meng yao #Nie Huaisang Lan Xichen Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue reincarnate into PIDW and are Cang Qiong disciples at the same time as Luo Binghe is AU

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spqcebunsforever · 1 year

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I thought you were dead!?!

Pairing: LA Buggy x Reader

Summary: Buggy and Y/n are two captains who seem to both "hate" each other. Every time they meet it seems like they want to rip each other's throats out. But what happens when they both get told that the other has died how will they react.

y/n’s pov

"ONE OF THESE DAYS I SWEAR I'M GOING TO KILL YOU". I shouted at the blue-haired pirate who had just run away with all my rightfully stolen jewels. "NOT IF I KILL YOU FIRST DOLL" he shouted while running giving me his signature stupid smirk. I swear that clown would be the death of me this was the 3rd time we had been at the same place and we would always end up fighting. He just had such a cheek he thinks because he has powers he's better than the rest of us I honestly want to strangle him. I was about to run after him to continue our fight and hopefully get my jewels back but my first mate had run up and told me that the marines had been contacted and would be showing up any time now.

I sadly had to admit defeat because I would rather be killed by that blue-haired bastard than be caught by the Marines. "Ugh fine come on then everyone back on the ship" I was hoping that even though all my stuff had been stolen the crew had been able to grab some valuable things but I wasn't getting my hopes up I loved my crew but I knew I didn't have the sharpest crewmates the only one who had any real common sense was my first mate. So when I got on my ship I immediately went to my quarter and locked the door. The moment the door was shut I fired a dart right in the middle of the wanted poster of Buggy I had on my wall I swore that one day I would be the one to take down that annoying pirate.

A few weeks later I was pleasantly surprised I hadn't once bumped into the clown for a whole 2 weeks. I was a little suspicious at the start thinking he would pop out any second to catch me off guard but he didn't. But I can't lie after the first week things started to get boring not having someone there so you could fight was really boring we were just doing the same thing over and over again ransacking villages and leaving then the next day we would repeat the whole thing. At least when Buggy would show up we always had a different thing to fight about and I wouldn't know the exact time he would show up but he always did. While I was in my quarters thinking about how boring things had gotten my first mate came in looking a little upset. "What's wrong with you why the long face".

The news that came next was not something I was ready or expecting to hear. "We have just been given the information that Captain Buggy is dead I thought you would want to know". I didn't know how to respond I was in a state of shock for a second. "Is this a joke because if it is it's not the funniest you've told". My first mate just shook their head "No I'm sorry captain but it's not a joke but I'll leave you alone for now" and with that, they left leaving me with my thoughts. He couldn't be really dead right who would be able to kill him I couldn't think of anyone that would have been able to kill him or would have really wanted to. This was it my boring days were now here to stay I would never have to worry about him sneaking up on me or trying to steal my stuff from right under my nose and I would now never need to keep a lookout for blue hair or a random flying limb and I would now never have to worry about hearing his stupid voice ever again and thinking about that was making me...sad.

I walked straight out of my room and went straight to my first mate telling them that the plans had changed. We were supposed to be heading to a very wealthy village where we would steal all their gold but now that I'd heard this news the only place I wanted to go was a very small and poor island where me and Buggy had first met. I wanted to go back there because even though we hated each other I still had some respect for the idiot and I wanted to at least do something nice and a little bit meaningful for him. So we turned the ship around and started making our way to the island.

When we arrived I was a little upset about the state the island was in. Sure I and buggy were most of the reason that the village had been destroyed but the rest of the island looked dead there were barely any living plants and the ground was now just dirt and from the look of the place it didn't look like anyone even lived here anymore. I had told my crew that I would only be a few minutes and I left to find the perfect place to set down the flowers I had brought. It took me a while to find the perfect place but after walking around for a few moments I found the perfect place. I kneeled down and put the flowers down and before I stood up I pulled his wanted poster out of my pocket and lay it down next to the flowers and put some rocks on each side of the poster so that it would stay and the wind wouldn't blow it away.

But just as I was about to leave and head back to my ship I heard footsteps coming towards me. So thinking that it was someone who would be a danger to me I quickly hid behind the nearest tree and after hearing the footsteps stop I slowly poked my head out and I couldn't believe who I saw. Buggy the fucking clown the guy who I thought was dead and the whole reason that I even came to this island. I came out from behind the tree and pointed my finger at him. "I thought you were dead!?" he looked up at me also looking completely shocked "Wait I thought you were dead what are you doing here, I even cried over your death give me my tears back!". I had just noticed the flowers in his hands "Wait you cried when you got told I was dead" I noticed that his face was turning red. "Maybe...okay yeah I did" We both stood there in silence for a few moments until I walked closer to him and sat down where I had placed my flowers and he followed my actions sitting next to me.

"well, it's a little weird that we both wanted to respect each other at the same place". He just shrugged his shoulders "Well this is the first place where we met so I thought it would be at least nice to put down some flowers here". I just gave him a soft smile "Yeah that was my exact thought process as well". before I could say anything else Buggy picked up his wanted poster that I had put down "Why does my wanted poster have so many tiny holes in it" I just awkwardly coughed "Ugh I don't know I think I picked it up like that" He just shrugged and put the poster back down. "So you know how I reacted when I got told you had died how did you react when You heard that I died".

I didn't really know what to say because I didn't even know how I felt but I tried my best to explain it. "I don't think I wanted to admit it to myself but I was gutted I thought I would never see you again or fight you again or just be around you again and not seeing you for about 2 weeks I realized how boring it was to not have you around all the time and I guess what I'm trying to say is that I was really going to miss you if you were really dead". I turned to look him right in the eyes and he just gave me a soft smile something I didn't think I would ever see on his face "Well don't worry doll know I know how you feel I promise you that from now on none of your days are even going to be boring again and also I got these for you sure I thought you were dead but still". I took the flowers from him and let out a quiet laugh putting my head on his shoulder and we both sat there enjoying each other's company while watching the sunset.

Y/n's First mate's pov

I and Mhoji high-fived as we watched the Captains sit with each other. "Finally I'm glad you came up with this or I don't think they would ever actually speak about their feelings". I just laughed "Yeah they are both so headstrong and the plan worked perfectly just as I knew it would". Me and Mhoji again high-fived as we walked away letting the captains have some privacy.

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #captain buggy #live action one piece

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avocado-writing · 1 year

Note

Ok here me out.. when Azira && Crowley getting absolutely smashed with the wine scene in the bookshop.. but y/n is also there.. with some heavy flirting/ sexual innuendos along then way.

notes: alcohol consumption content warning! just silly fluff.

pairing: crowley x reader x aziraphale

rating: T (alcohol)

if you like my work you can buy me a kofi!

After several missed attempts, you finally drop the needle on the record and music begins to fill the room. You try to do a little dance but instead end up walking slap-bang into a bookshelf and sending the first editions scattering. You fall on your arse in the middle of the papery deluge.

“‘ziraphale, ‘m so sorry!” you manage, alcohol convincing you that you might as well have set his bookshop on fire. From his chair Aziraphale waves a hand.

“‘s fine. Darling don’t be sad, I’ll help you get off—” Aziraphale tries to stand and falls back into his chair instead, “get off—” same attempt, same result. He slumps. “Crowley’s going to help you get off the floor.”

“You n’ Crowley’re gonna help me get off?” you repeat and burst into giggles, it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. Your laughter is infectious and soon the angel has joined in too, while Crowley crosses over to you with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. He heaves you to your feet with a terribly loud groan and you collapse in his arms, covering your ears.

“Crowley do you have t’ be so loud? S’obnix— obnoxsiss— obnosiosss— annoying.”

“I’m not annoying. I’m lovely n’ you love me-ee-ee,” Crowley cheers, swooping you around in his arms in a mock-waltz. It’s funny for three and a half seconds and then you can feel the wine objecting heavily to it.

“Put me down! NOW!”

Crowley deposits you into Aziraphale’s lap, and then falls in a pile at his feet, his cheek resting on the angel’s knee. You clumsily play with both of their hair.

“We should sober up,” sighs Aziraphale.

“Noooo!” you whine, “Nooo don’t do the thing. The sober thing. Because I hate it so ‘m still drunk n’ you treat me like a baby! Plus you say we gotta drink the wine again n’ it’s already been in you. ‘S gross. Don’t like it. Only thing should be in you more’n once is me n’ Crow.”

You bury your face into his shoulder until the world stops spinning. It doesn’t.

“Sober up the nice way. Human way.”

“Alright darling,” Aziraphale says, and because you can’t see, you miss the way he exaggeratedly winks at the demon by his feet. “Nice way.”

You hum and fall asleep in his embrace. The wine bottles refill as your partners purge the alcohol from themselves, then carry you up to bed and leave you with a packet of paracetamol and a bottle of water.

Hangovers are human things after all.

- Taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul @idontmeanto @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @cool-iguana @bdffkierenwalker @ilyatan

#crowley x reader x aziraphale #fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #Good omens x reader #ineffable husbands x reader #Request

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desperatelyseekingcannibals · 1 month

Text

Hannibal? Meeting Mads at RDC6

Following on from meeting Hugh in Boston and gifting him a copy of Adapt. Evolve. Become: The Genderqueer Fandom of NBC's Hannibal, I wanted to gift a copy to Mads.

No disrespect to Mads, but I wasn't expecting (and didn't get) the same sort of interaction I had with Hugh. I've met Mads at many cons before, including one in 2018 right before I had top surgery where I had a lovely chat with him about queer and trans Fannibals.

But I've noticed over the years, including from accounts of other Fannibals too, that he's become much more guarded in his conversations. Which is fair, his star has been forever on the rise and he's been working for bigger studios and properties. But as a trans person, I am always very cautious when people become much less vocal about something they previously seemed to support - though I do acknowledge that some people just don't want to get dragged into what they see as a volatile issue. And I knew, given how much more stoic he's become, and the time limitations of signings at cons, that this would be the case regardless of his personal point of view.

Also (and I've mentioned this before in posts about his answers on con panels), Mads has a habit of just saying what he thinks people want to hear, and what will get the biggest reaction - he's a master at fanservice. Which even includes repeating the same stories (Fragile Little Teacup for example). Which again, is not a criticism, but an observation and another reason why I was pretty nervous about meeting him again. And that was BEFORE a couple of different Fannibals approached me with concerns that some of the things he'd said at RDC6 hinted that he might be making a movie that may include a trans character in an unflattering way. (I'm still on the fence about whether that was his meaning, but I'm glad I'm already pretty emotionally divorced from him since he did FB).

ANYWAY! I had talked with the fantastic wholeanddeadly before the event and we agreed on getting his brilliant "F**k transphobia Grindelwald" art print signed in order to auction it for trans charity (in fact we ended up getting two!). As we knew in advance we would be doing this, I wanted to let Mads know, because I don't feel right auctioning something without someone's knowledge if we had already made that plan.

So, this is what happened:

I was maybe third of forth in the queue (which was huge), so this was going to be a whistle stop and I'd thought carefully how to frame it and use my words wisely. So I walked up and he said "Hello, Sir!"

Which, thanks! (always love getting correctly gendered!)

I asked "May I give you a gift", and he said "Yes, of course!"

Whilst I was getting the book out of my back I told him that I met him in 2018 right before I had gender affirming surgery and he was very kind to me. His response was along the lines of "Oh yeah?"

I continued to tell him that since then, I have been involved a lot with of the trans and non-binary Fannibals and we made this book because of what the show means to us. He took it and flicked through and stopped at some of the art and admired it. He asked if it was just about Hannibal, and I said yes because I totally blanked in the moment, so the HEU stuff will be a nice surprise for him, lol.

Then the art print got passed over by his helper and I said I didn't want him to personalise the photo as I wanted to auction it to a charity that supports trans youth if he's OK with that. And he replied "you can do anything you like with it, man." I said thanks, and we were all done.

Whilst on the surface this was all good, I was definitely struck by the difference between this and times I'd met him before (especially in 2018). And perhaps it was just down to him being more guarded, but it felt very... standoffish. Which is fine, it is what it is.

The funniest thing is that Mads often signs the characters name on the things he signs, and the one we already had signed the day before via a friend, he didn't put the character name on it. On the one he signed for me, he did: Hannibal.

I saw him hesitate part way through signing the name but it just made me chuckle at the potential that this character meant so little to him he didn't recall his name and then the next day confused him for another character - Trans Rights Wizard Hannibal!

Anyway. I hope he reads the book. I hope he gets something out of it. I hope he's not making a transphobic movie.

And I hope you'll all check out @transhanniday on here (and on Twitter), where the two signed prints and some other bits will be going up for auction soon! The proceeds will be going to UK trans youth charity Mermaids, the same charity that Deadly supported with his original art prints.

#hannibal #hannigram #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #hannibal lecter #RDC6

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illuminatedjoy · 3 months

Text

I don't think any Danganronpa opinion sends me into an immediate frothing rage quite like 'Sonia should have died in chapter 3 of Goodbye Despair instead of Hiyoko.' I feel like it's a critical misunderstanding of what the weaknesses of Danganronpa's writing are or how to improve them.

Anyway, long post incoming. I'm going to talk about the three main points I see people trying to make when they say this.

Hiyoko's Arc is Interrupted

This is the main thing I feel like people dislike about Hiyoko dying and Sonia surviving. Sonia doesn't change much over the course of the story, and Hiyoko does. Shouldn't Hiyoko be rewarded for growing as a person by having the chance to survive?

Potentially, yes, but not absolutely. A character with a meaningful arc doesn't necessarily need to survive, but the impact of their arc needs to be felt. And Hiyoko's isn't. A critical failure of the third case is that it sweeps Hiyoko's death under the rug and focuses mostly on Ibuki's death. If Hiyoko's death were given more emotional weight, her severed character arc would have much more meaning.

This connects to a broader problem in Danganronpa. I feel like repeating the 'two victims' trope from the first game was a massive mistake, because it cemented the idea that third cases should have two victims always. One of the most unique aspects of Danganronpa is the emotional impact of each individual death. But too often, third cases leave at least one character's death feeling pointless. This problem goes beyond the canon games and has infected fangans. Personally, for example, I feel like both of the Danganronpa Another games would have been considerably improved by allowing one of the characters that died in chapter 3 to survive. I don't want to get too bogged down in this, but I just want to highlight how it affects Hiyoko.

Hiyoko's death has nothing to do with Mikan's broader plan, and so it gets swept under the rug. Hiyoko is barely mourned by the cast, and none of the characters that survive chapter 3 have a strong connection to her. THAT'S why her death sucks.

How could this be improved? Sticking as close to the original story as possible, make Hiyoko's death part of Mikan's plan. Have her deliberately plan to kill Hiyoko when she comes to the bar, and use the death to obfuscate the rest of the case. Have Mikan rant about Hiyoko's bullying during her breakdown. Show Fuyuhiko and/or Sonia (because she did want to help Hiyoko) mourn Hiyoko more in the following chapter. Make Hiyoko's death HURT.

Stretching further away from the original story, a favorite idea of mine is that Ibuki is the one that recovers her memories of despair, though she continues to pretend to be affected by the Gullible disease. Ibuki hunts down and slaughters Hiyoko, and frames Mikan for the crime. Now a major part of the trial is everyone suspecting Mikan because of Hiyoko's bullying, and Mikan having to become a more confident person in order to stand up to them. This change also gives Ibuki a much stronger role in the story, since her Ultimate Despair persona would be such a shocking contrast with who she usually is. Hiyoko still dies, but her death is the main focus of the chapter, and Mikan has the chance for a strong survivor arc.

Sonia is a Weak Character

...So, your solution for improving her is... kill her arbitrarily in Chapter 3. Yeah, I'm sure that would help her characterization.

I think Sonia is a much stronger character than people give her credit for, but she is criminally underused by the writing and it's clear she didn't leave the same impression on everyone. She's intelligent, she's resilient in the face of grief, she's helpful in multiple situations over the course of the story, and she's, IMO, the funniest survivor. But the story doesn't give her time to grieve after Gundham's death because it's chapter 5 and we need to focus on Nagito being Nagito. Because of this, she bounces back so quickly people feel like she didn't care at all. Just give her a CG or a quiet scene alone or something. Come on.

While everyone is focused on Nagito, she's the only one actually trying to solve any problems. She tries to blast her way into the ruins and at least partially sees through Nagito's trap. Emphasize this a bit more and contrast her determination with her pain. The elements of a strong character arc are already present, they just aren't given much spotlight.

They could have also done more with her during the final trial. Since Sonia's actions as a remnant of despair likely had more impact than most of the others, show us a devastated Novoselic. Let her react to the extent of her horrible actions.

If Sonia Died, Kazuichi Could Have Had a Character Arc

Sonia should not have to die for Kazuichi to have a character arc.

Sonia Nevermind should not have to fucking die for Kazuichi Souda to have a character arc.

Yeah, this one pisses me off. So, the argument is that Kazuichi would have had to get over his simping for Sonia if she died. But here's the thing- HE CAN DO THAT WHILE SHE'S ALIVE. Kazuichi's attraction to Sonia is very surface-level. He likes hot blondes. That's it. If Sonia dies, he has to move on, but he doesn't have to change as a person. At all. He doesn't have to recognize that he's been a creep. He doesn't have to commit to treating women better in the future. He doesn't have to develop a deeper appreciation of who Sonia was as a person.

If Sonia is still alive, he has a much greater opportunity to do all of these things. He has to display real strength of character and growth to move on. If the writing cared about giving him a good arc, they could have done so without changing the death order at all. Imagine, for example, that he tries to hit on Sonia while she's still grieving Gundham. Imagine Sonia (finally) flies off the handle and tells him off for how he's been acting about her this entire time. Imagine Kazuichi finally, finally starts to see that he's been a major creep, that Sonia isn't attracted to him, and if he ever wants that to change, he has to change as a person. He has to let go. There you go, there's a goddamn character arc.

When people say that Sonia's death would have given Kazuichi the arc he needed, what I hear is 'I find Kazuichi's grief over a superficial crush who didn't even like him more meaningful than Sonia's grief for someone she genuinely cared for and who cared for her in return.' What even... am I supposed to say to that. It's fucking wild.

All three of these characters, Sonia, Hiyoko, and Kazuichi deserved better from the game's writing. Swapping Hiyoko and Sonia is not how you make that happen.

#danganronpa 2 #sonia nevermind #hiyoko saionji #kazuichi souda

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sometimes-i-write-good · 2 years

Text

5 + 1

Top Gun: Maverick - Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x f!pilot reader (callsign: Fallbeil)

4.4k || 5 times Bob remembers your little quirks and habits, and 1 time you remember his.

===

Genre: Fluff, crushing, love confessions

CW: mentions of drinking, swearing

Author’s Note: Bob is such an acts of service kind of person - I can feel it deep in my soul. Also, I thought the idea of him ending up with someone who has a scary ass callsign like Guillotine (which is Fallbeil in German) despite him being a cinnamon roll would be the funniest thing in the world. || cross-posted on ao3

===

The first time you noticed something was because Hangman had that stupid ass look on his face again. That same one he always had, the only one he had in all honesty. The one that, recently, only ever seemed to be directed at you and that pissed you off most of all.

“What?” He asked, but the smirk pulling his lips back into the stupid, smug fucking smile told you clearly: he knew exactly what.

“Leave her alone, Bagman. I’m not in the mood today,” Rooster said, and you could tell he meant it. HIs voice sounded surprisingly tired considering mornings were his prime time of existence. Maverick insisted on calling these meetings earlier and earlier, chinking away at everyone's stability, and it was proving to be too much for even the earliest of risers.

Hangman scoffed, pressing his hand to his chest, and feigning offense. “Why am I always the bad guy? What if today was the day Fallbeil finally snapped and did something to me instead?”

You rolled your eyes. “If I snapped, you wouldn’t be holding a conversation with me. Your head wouldn’t even be attached to your body.”

“Living up to your name as always, doll.”

Rooster slid into one of the empty chairs at the conference table, slapping down a notebook, and turned to look at you. “I’ll punch him if you want.”

“I’m perfectly capable of throwing my own punches, thank you.” The look on Rooster’s face said he didn’t trust you not to take it too far.

“And coffee mugs.” Hangman glanced over his shoulder; eyes trained on the spot where a cracked, open travel cup lay open. Opened and spilled, everywhere. “Which I managed to dodge.”

“Try to dodge my-” but your insult was cut short by Rooster saying, “Coffee? You hate coffee.”

You set your lips in a thin, embarrassed line. “He told me that it was tea.”

“And you believed him?” Rooster snorted.

You slunk back into your chair, crossing your arms with a pout. “It’s early! I’m basically the walking dead right now, birdbrain.”

As with every mission of this sheer level of importance, your anxiety had been too great to let you sleep. Usually Bob or Phoenix or Rooster, the early risers of the group, would be up to go for a job or hit the gym with you. You were up well before all of them today and had taken it upon yourself to go for a run, shower, and be painfully early to this briefing. You had hoped Bob would be the first one there, he typically was, but the universe was out to get you because instead of those sweet, doe eyes behind some thick-lensed glasses all you got was a stupid pair of lips messing with a toothpick.

“Don’t be too hard on, Rooster.” Phoenix called out, walking into the hangar with Fanboy, Payback, and Coyote in tow. “I already smoked him during our run this morning. He’s fragile.”

Before Rooster could get all up in arms or Hangman could jump on a moment of vulnerability, Maverick walked in. He had his way to the head of the table while everyone else found their seats. “Good morning, everyone.” Tired, disjointed voices repeated the sentiment, pulling a smile onto Mav’s face. “I see we’re all ready for a busy day. What do you say we get started?”

“Sorry, I’m late, sir!” Bob’s voice comes from behind you. “I couldn’t find the kettle.”

Kettle, you thought to yourself, but Maverick just waved for him to sit down and continued talking. Before Bob headed over to the only open seat, by Hangman of all people, he placed a small cup of tea in front of you without a word. In your favorite mug, too. You brought it up to your lips to taste it… and it was perfect. Exactly the way you liked it.

‘Thank you,’ you mouthed at him after he sat down. Bob just nodded and focused his attention on Maverick. You did the same, not even registering that he didn’t have a cup of anything for himself.

–

The second time you noticed something nice Bob did for you was during poker night. Fanboy and Payback had decided tempting fate and coming out the other side had bonded you all for life. A point any of you could hardly disagree with. That mission was not something any of you were supposed to come back from. So, the idea of a movie night had been tossed around, but Payback always tried to guess the endings and Hangman tried to outdo the one-liners and Rooster just had to know if he knew that actor from another movie - needless to say, movie nights were shelved very fast.

Then the idea of bar hopping came about, followed by karaoke night, followed by trivia night. Each of which ended up in all of you spending too much money on booze and drunkenly embarrassing yourselves with horrible vocals or blatantly wrong answers to obscure history questions. You all settled on the idea of a game night. It seemed to work well enough. A ‘family’ dinner followed by a board game. Except for the fact that Payback instead of placing bets no matter if it was CandyLand or Monopoly, which Coyote would double, and Hangman would triple. Leaving you all spending just as much money as you had at the bar.

It was Bob who brought up the idea of having poker nights. Something with betting already designed into it so that none of you had to worry about emptying your bank accounts at the end of the night. That was the problem with setting elite competitors against one another, they never knew when to quit.

You’d all been kept relatively close to TOPGUN, usually stationed a few hours away max. Months where distance wasn’t a problem, you all tried to meet once a week. If one of you weren’t stateside, then once a month worked just fine. Six months into poker nights so far and you’d been able to have at least one every month. Every time the list of things to bring shifted down a person, so that each time a new person would be in charge of chips or appetizers or the main entree, etc. It was a system that worked with military precision.

Until the one time it didn’t.

Bob was the last through the door of Payback’s small apartment. At least, it looked small with so many people crammed in there. “Here, I got special plates this time.” He raised them high above his head like a prize. Large, sturdy, and compartmentalized. Like the trays you’d get in the mess hall or for a school lunch.

The statement caused immediate uproar.

“I was on plates and napkins!” Coyote said around a mouthful of sour cream and onion chips, brought by yours truly. And Hangman started making comments about how if no one was going to follow the list, then he wasn’t going to either.

“You weren’t in charge of plates, Bob!” Fanboy tried his best not to get too worked up over it. He had created a spreadsheet of everyone’s responsibilities. Verifying everyone knew their roles was his main role in making sure this whole operation ran smoothly. “Please tell me you still brought dessert.”

“I’ve got dessert. My grandma came out this weekend and made a peach cobbler.”

The mention of his grandma’s baking ensured the pitchforks and torches were put away, for now. That woman had godly skills in the kitchen. You would gladly sit down and eat an entire cobbler of hers by yourself in one sitting.

Coyote, still hurt by his duty being impeded on, asked, “So then what are the plates for?”

“Fallbeil doesn’t like when her food touches,” Bob said as though it were the most common knowledge in the world. “You guys always insist on getting plates that are way too small.”

He set down the plates on the counter, followed by the pie, and went to take off his shoes and didn’t bring anything like that up again for the rest of the night.

–

The third time you noticed something nice that Bob did for you was a day he had to leave early. A helicopter was coming to pick him and Phoenix up to take them overseas. Just for a few days, or so said those in charge, and you knew how easily a few days could change to a few weeks to a few months.

The thought of possibly not seeing them for a while aggravated you. It meant being stuck on a ship hundreds of miles from the nearest shore without your two best friends. You’d known what you were signing up for when you first started. The military liked to keep their secrets. At any moment you could be swept away for a mission, but it still felt unfair when you woke up only to realize that your wingwoman and her WSO are replaced by strangers.

Back soon, take care.

Not signed but the handwriting was so obviously Bob. Cursive with careful, purposeful loops. Hangman tried to tear him apart for taking so much care in his notes during the pre-briefs before the uranium mission. The insults died out fast once everyone realized he had chicken scratch for handwriting. Funny how spreading a rumor Hangman deserved the callsign Rooster over Bradley could put him in his place so quickly.

Back soon, take care.

You stared at the sticky note, so carefully pressed against the outside of your locker. It was easy to imagine the conversation among him and Phoenix.

“I’m leaving her a note.”

“She’ll be fine, Bob. We’ve got to go.”

“Four words.”

He’d gotten into the habit of leaving sticky note updates in between lengthy letters. They held more emotion than an email or text, and you found that you liked it more than digital words on a screen. You could trace your fingers over each letter. Pretend as though he were pressed up in the seat next to you like when you’d go to the Hard Deck on a busy night and everyone would shove together in a few booths. A closeness you’d found yourself longing for in all moments spent together despite there being no reason for the two of you to share an armchair in the common room.

You had crushes before. A few relationships littered your history of schooling, but you, like many others who had graduated from TOPGUN, assumed the sky was to be your first and only love. And then Bob showed up with his quiet, gentle ways and your heart would soar every time he walked into a room. There were days you went without talking, but you could count on some kind of a note to be waiting for you on your door or waiting for you on the control of your jet.

Reminders that he was thinking of you. The way a best friend would. Surely. That’s all it had to be. No sense in constructing something out of nothing. Something that could wreck this perfect routine the two of you had created in one another’s lives.

You peeled the sticky note off the front of your locker to place inside, out of harm's way. Your finger traced each letter. It was likely he and Phoenix were off somewhere with Coyote or Rooster or Hangman doing something far more dangerous than the intelligence patrol you’d been assigned to. As you swung open your locker, you wished you’d had enough sense to write him a letter before he’d left. Something reminding him and Phoenix to be safe, but you hadn’t known he was leaving. You hadn’t even let the thought cross your mind.

“Oh, Bob,” you sighed.

A smile tugs its way onto your face. He’d left a mug in your locker. Not filled with tea this time, but with pens and highlighters and all your favorite stationary to use on your paperwork. You usually had a pencil case with you filled with pens that flowed smoothly and didn’t smudge or highlighters that didn’t bleed through the page.

He must have packed extra in his bag in case you’d forgotten that pencil case, which you had. But that wasn’t the best part. Somehow he’d managed to keep a rose alive and blooming to stick amongst the stationary. For, what it seemed to you, the sole purpose of making you smile.

–

The fourth time you noticed something nice that Bob did for you was at Coyote’s birthday cookout. You were running late. Very late. More late than you’d ever been in your whole life to a point that you would have turned around if you could have, but you had been stuck on a highway without an exit for miles on end. The need to pee had never been stronger.

Stuck in the literal sense. Construction fed into traffic fed into cars stopping for no reason at all fed into fender benders fed into your frustration. “Please just move!” You shouted at the trail of brake lights in front of you. All you had to do was make it to the next exit two miles away.

But no one met your frustrated request. Instead, the standstill continued. You were destined to never arrive at this party. It had been weeks since you’d seen everyone together in one spot. Poker night had been postponed to tomorrow. Bound to be a dismal affair of hangovers and stale chips left out in bowls overnight. A slice of heaven on earth. Though, you would say that for just about anything if it meant being released from a fucking prison of a car.

Your phone went off. The distinct sound of big band music filling your car. Bob’s ringtone.

“Where are you?” His voice came through the other line at the same moment you shouted, “I want to rip my head off!”

An amused chuckle filled your car which only caused you to fume further. “I’m serious, Robert. This two-hour drive has become four- maybe five. I lost count when I had to come to a full and complete stop for the three millionth time today. It would be so much easier if Coyote had a runway in his backyard. Then I could just fly there-”

“Fallbeil,” Bob cut in, “are you almost here?”

“I’m a mile from my exit. I should be there in twenty. If I’m allowed to take my foot off the brake for more than a few seconds.” You let out a loud groan. “I’m going to stop at a gas station because I think my bladder might explode. So expect me in thirty actually-”

Bob laughed and spoke once more, saving you from yet another breathless tangent. “I’m excited to see you.”

You smiled to yourself. Grinning at the stopped cars in front of you like an idiot. “Yeah?”

“Have I ever not been?”

“I’m excited to see you too.” You could envision Bob’s own shy grin. No, you couldn’t hear the sounds of the party going on around him. He had closed himself off alone in a room to talk to you, which would mean the smile would be big and beaming. “Coyote enjoying himself?”

“I think he might have cried when Natasha put on the birthday playlist she made for him.”

“She’s good at that.”

“Good?” Bob laughed. “She’s elite at it.” Then, after a moment of comfortable silence fell over the two of you he said, “Want me to stay on the phone until you show up?”

If it were a normal poker night, you would have jumped on the offer. Phone calls with Bob had become a staple in that routine in one another’s lives. Letters and notes were not nearly enough to tide the two of you over. But today was a special occasion.

“No,” you told him. “I’ll be there soon.” He deserved to go enjoy the party. Not be tied up in a phone call where you were bound to blow your lid if the car in front of you did not speed up.

“Be careful. Drive safe.” The line clicked.

Be careful, you turned the words over in your head wondering what they would sound like punctuated with a kiss every morning when you headed out the door.

You turned down Coyote’s street, knowing exactly what you’d find. Cars taking every spot. Coyote was the most popular out of the crew. Charming personality, willingness to help everyone so much as passing by, and good looks. The combination needed for a party of the century.

And the shouts of excitement that flowed from his backyard told you just that was happening. Without you, and it would continue to go on without you if you couldn’t find an open spot to park. Bob waited at the end of Coyote’s packed driveway, hands stuffed into his jeans. A surprising amount of muscle strained beneath the button up shirt he wore to every part. More cars shoved onto the asphalt and spilled over onto the lawn.

Bob waved, waited patiently for you to park the car in the middle of the street, and then came around to the driver's side of the car. “Hey,” he said as he popped open your door. “How was the drive?”

You shot him a look. One that immediately set that bright, beautiful smile on his face. “Funny.”

“Here, get out.”

“What?”

“Get out. Go inside and say hi.” He leaned over to unbuckle you and the scent of his cologne tickled your nose. “I have a plate of food for you in the oven, on low so it stays warm. There’s one in the fridge too with the cold stuff.”

“Bob-”

“They’re all separated.” He waved you out of the car, grabbing your hand to help, and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m glad you’re here, Fallbeil.”

You saw him again ten minutes later because he had to park two blocks away and walk back.

–

The fifth time you really noticed Bob going out of his way for you was a few months into the two of you moving in together. Solely as roommates, two best friends making the most of a perfect situation. Rent was going up, you had an extra room, and Bob had just gotten hired as an instructor at TOPGUN. The timing couldn’t have been better.

In truth, nothing could be better. The two of you fit perfectly into each other’s lives. Bob with his early habits. Having tea on the table for you alongside the crossword section of the newspaper he insisted on reading every morning. The hardest word always filled in as a starting point. He’d saved you the frustration of straining your mind over a word you couldn’t have dreamed up in the wildest corners of your imagination.

The preference over sticky notes as communication over texts still remained the same. Left on the mirror in your shared bathroom always signed with “be careful” or “take care.” Sometimes there is nothing of importance to say, but Bob would write those two words anyway as a reminder.

You’d leave voicemails if it was something that needed your immediate attention - talking on the phone to Bob became a bright spot in your week. You tried your hardest to leave them only for emergencies but hearing his voice every day had spoiled you. Sometimes your mind would lock on something you would absolutely have to tell him. Then you would find yourself pulling out your phone, typing in his number, and putting it away with a great sigh. You had planes to fly, he had students to teach, and the torture of being apart for a few hours each day made returning home to him all the sweeter. Returning home to movie nights or long walks on the beach or stories of students who remind Bob of each member of the Dagger Crew.

Phoenix would crash often when she got called back to TOPGUN, and Bradley hung around often enough seeing that Mav and Penny had made their lives here. Everyone cycled through at some point. Even Hangman had a welcome place on your couch if he ever needed it.

There was one night Jake had spent the night. Out of the blue and completely inconvenient as was the case with Hangman, but he offered to cook dinner while the two of you were at work and you came home to a good meal and surprisingly good company. What a sight to see the three of you laughing at a small table.

You hadn’t minded Hangman staying over. Though he did scare the shit out of you when he knocked on your door and let himself into your room to talk. “You know he likes you,” he had said, perched on the corner of your bed with that same stupid ass look on his face that meant trouble. “I think he might even be in love with you.”

“Bagman-”

“Hey, I come in here to tell you some life-altering news and you start with insulting me.” Hangman had let out a low whistle. “Think about it, Fallbeil.”

“What if it ruins everything? We’re doing so well.”

“What if it changes everything for the better?”

You hadn’t expected those words to play in your head as often as they did when Hangman finally left. It had been weeks since you’d last seen him. Poker night was tonight. He was hosting, and you had a feeling he was going to corner you with all sorts of questions as to if you’d made a move on Bob yet. A foolish notion. Bob might not be a skittish dog, but making a move on him still might cause spontaneous combustion. You were just trying to figure out which one of you it would be.

What could be the right time to tell your best friend and roommate that you loved him? That you have always wanted to be more?

You thought it over as you wiped sleep from your eyes and made your way into the bathroom. Bob had left earlier than usual this morning. It was a test day for the students and he was nothing if not prepared. Likely that kind, painfully chirpy teacher in the early hours of the day.

There was a sticky note on the mirror. As expected. Longer than usual. Unexpected.

Took your car this morning. Saw you needed an oil change. Be home late, then he can head to Bagman’s. Hope that’s okay. My keys are on the counter. Be safe. Love you.

You traced those last two words with the tip of your finger. It was the first time he’d added those two words.

And they fit so naturally on the note. Like they always belonged there.

–

The one time (the first time) you realized you were going out of your way to do things because you loved Robert Floyd when you went into the mall with a head full of ideas to get for Rooster’s birthday and came out twenty minutes later with one thing. One thing not for Rooster.

A model plane for Bob. Before he’d gotten so overwhelmed with his responsibilities at TOPGUN to cease having many hobbies, he’d built model planes. It’s what had gotten him into a love of planes. At least, that’s what he had told you one night at the Hard Deck, when the two of you were shoved up against one another.

Growing up in a small midwestern farm town didn’t give him many chances growing up to be around planes, but he’d watch the ones that flew over crops with rapt interest. He memorized flight patterns, sat alongside fields, and watched them every chance he got. Then, in the late nights where he only had his imagination to keep him company, Bob built model planes and memorized their histories.

“I’ve always wanted to be around planes.” He had slurred the words a bit back then. One too many sips of beer between handfuls of peanuts. “I kept them around me as much as I could.”

You hadn’t been able to figure out how crop planes became fighter jets in his history, but more stories came out as the two of you moved in together. Dismissive comments about school bullies. Talks about how he knew he wasn’t the strongest, but had always felt the need to prove himself. It seemed to fit into this idea people created of him - always a bit behind the rest. You respected him for sticking to what people told him he couldn’t do and making a name for himself in spite of it all.

And you loved that he trusted you enough to bring you in on those hobbies of his. Building fighter jets in the low light of desk lamps and night lights. Reminding you of the purpose of each piece. Telling the history of each plane. But your favorite part of all was when the two of you would build a jet you were flying and he would include all your statistics, everything you’ve accomplished, and, when you caught him in rare form, things Bob imagined you would do that would etch your name into the very fabric of history.

“Did you get a present for Bradley?” He asked, hearing the click of the door behind you. There was a rag thrown over his shoulder. Bob turned to face you with a smile. In the midst of cooking, glasses slightly fogged from whatever it was he was cooking, and your heart couldn’t take it.

“N-no,” you said, tripping up on your words. “I, um, I forgot.”

“But on the phone you said you couldn’t wait to show me what you got?” He tilted his head, watching as you kicked off your shoes, and placed your shopping bag on the table. “I hope you’re not trying to sign your name onto my gift, Fallbeil. I spent three months finding a vintage record of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ for him.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness. “No, Robert, I will not steal credit for your gift. He’ll know it’s from you anyway.” You took a deep, shaky breath. “I got something for you instead.”

Bob’s brows scrunched in confusion. “Me, but it’s Bradley’s birthday?”

You pulled the model F-18 from the bag and held it out towards him. Your hands shook slightly. Silly considering the two of you were always going out of your way to do things for each other. Plates and oil changes and parking cars. Small things. Nothing as momentous as a declaration of pure understanding of one another.

He said your name with a softness you’d never heard before. As though he were praying.

“I love you.” You said it at the same time as him. And the words fell so naturally from both your lips. Like they always belonged there.

===

ask and you shall receive (taglist): @whoeverineedtobe @dhwanishah09

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serenityinstone · 10 months

Text

Thanks For Nothing

Yandere America x G.N. Reader

If you can't tell I'm really bad at adding tw's but I always find it helpful to avoid stuff I don't want to read so I tried my best. Go ahead and tell me if there's something I missed.

Also, I know Thanksgiving was two days ago I randomly got the urge to write this last night. I'm like slightly embarrassed by this but I haven't posted anything in over a year so you get this.

Tableware clinked against wood as it was gingerly laid down by an uncommonly careful hand. The room was well lit with candles flickering shadows across the walls, a large chandelier over top. The table was set with an orange and red color scheme with autumn bleeding into every aspect of decoration. Even though only two would be used, eight seats had been set in nothing but false pageantry. The smell of baking turkey wafted in from the kitchen off the ways. Most of the other food had already made its place on the table, surrounding a cornucopia, reflective only in name. Six chairs, three on each side, were all tightly pushed into the table, ready for the use of no one. The spread was massive and one could wonder how only two people, the only residents of the large house, would finish it all.

Humming came from the kitchen, the voice masculine in pitch. The tune was easily recognizable as the Star Spangled Banner, which was more a feat to hum then one would expect. Some of the high notes came out scratchy and the mumbling of the lyrics did nothing to ascertain any kind of satisfying harmony. Both rooms were pleasantly warm, though the kitchen held itself in a higher regard after repeat use of the oven and stove. Light leaked out through the open windows as it bathed the rest of the house.

It was pitch dark outside and a person coming or going could see no more than fifteen feet in front of them. Not that there would be any extra guests anyways. The building was located in the middle of nowhere, a long, winding road the only gleam of civilization. At one point the property had been a farm, but after the changing of owners, its purpose drastically changed.

The deafening silence was interrupted by repeated shifting, a desperate attempt to move. This sound was picked up by the ears of the blonde in the other room. He stuck his head in the doorway, the cowlick on top denying gravity its rightful dues. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, though you could see none of it. In fact you could see nothing at all. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move. All you could do was listen. The man laughed boisterously like you had just said the funniest thing in the world.

“Don’t worry!” He said, knocking on the wall in a way meant to exude comfort. “It's almost done.”

Any chance you had of escape was quickly ticking away alongside that turkey clock, and yet you could do nothing. Maybe he really was the original boy scout because his knots were flawless. Arms bound tight to a chair, any attempts at kicking did nothing to loosen the ropes tying your legs to the chair’s. Your back was flush with the chair, cord tightly wrapped around your torso. You were, in all sense of the word, stuck.

The silk material used to blind your sight was far softer than the harsh twine of the ropes. The same was used to bind your mouth. Any of the tears you had cried had long since dried, making the cloth more uncomfortable and sticky than before. What did you do to deserve this?

Time to ponder than question was quickly snatched away as the retro cooking clock sprang to life. You snapped your head towards the sound, not having prepared yourself for it. Suddenly the smell of turkey became stronger than ever before and you swore you could feel its heat as the man set it down on the table. He lit what you could only assume were candles before approaching you. You visibly shook as he gently removed the blindfold.

Blinking furiously to adjust to the light, your pupils contracted at the heavy light, causing you to shut them closed and throw your head down away from the obtrusive shine. A large hand came above you to pet the top of your head. He kneeled down on one knee, grasping your arm, which was still bound to the chair’s, and gently massaged the skin. He almost didn’t seem real, the light making him look like an angel. Then he looked back up at you, sky blue eyes piercing your own (e/c) ones. Any thoughts of a divine existence were quickly washed away as you stared deep into the possessive pools that were his oculus. The man smiled at you, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fell. He licked the thumb that had made contact with the salted droplet, never breaking eye contact with you.

He abruptly stood up, shifting his attention over to the extravagant feast on the table. He quickly piled on his own plate, seemingly stacking it sky high, before coming back over to your side and collected your piece of dishware. Moving around the table, he began to fill your own plate, though not nearly as large as his own. He placed it back down next its proper napkin, an orange maple leaf.

The man began to slice apart his pieces of turkey, clearly satisfied with how it had come out. It didn’t take him long to begin gobbling down his food like a hungry soldier on the battlefield. He talked while chewing once or twice in a way that would have made a proper British noble scoff in disgust. Though he quickly quit after he realized that he was eating like such. A look fell across his face that made you think that he might have been told off for a bad habit like that. From then on he ate properly, carefully using his utensils and always chewing with his mouth closed.

From the moment he had brought the turkey in, you had felt your mouth water. You hadn’t eaten anything all day and the food laying out before you felt torturous. You didn’t make a sound however, trying to conserve all of your energy into not bursting into another round of tears. Your stomach on the other hand, had no such qualms, and loudly made its presence known.

The blonde looked over at you, to your uneaten plate of food, and then back to you. He was about to ask why you hadn’t started eating before he realized the obvious. Gulping down the last of his diet soda, of which he had put into a glass with ice to look slightly nicer, he made his way past the table and back over to you.

All you could do was sit there, cursing your stomach and every decision that led you to this horrible fate. Standing at far over six feet, he easily towered over you, causing the shaking from earlier to come back tenfold. You must have looked like a frightened little lamb to the big bad wolf. He cupped your face in his hands, rough from years of war. By now you had begun hyperventilating, shoulders moving up and down in desperate disharmony. You tried to suck as much air as possible in but the gag in your mouth stopped most of the air flow. He reached his right hand farther up your face and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to pretend you were any place but here. Any images of tropical vacation were vanquished after he softly removed the fabric. It was soaked with hours worth of saliva and he threw it off to the side on the table.

Properly swallowing for the first time in hours, your lips finally closed. You still shook but had noticeably calmed down as he focused on your lips.

“A-Alfred.” You finally whispered. “W-Why? I don’t u-understand.”

Tears still occasionally fell down and you desperately wanted to hide your face from him with your hands, but couldn’t because of your binds. You desperately searched his eyes for some clue, a hint, anything. But there was nothing there but pure, unbridled, adoration. His face melted into a content smile and he dove in to kiss you with no prior warning.

His lips melded against yours and he furiously attacked them until you opened. The man pressed you farther against the chair, using both of his hands to keep your head in place. His tongue swirled around your mouth, traversing every cavity and frantically tried to keep your own in this cursed dance. He finally parted from you, a string of saliva connecting you until it finally snapped.

Even more tears had begun to form, all threatening to fall at the slightest motion or whisper. Alfred brushed his thumb over your soaked eyelash, clearing your vision in that eye for just a moment.

“Does that answer your question?” He placed his head in the crook of your neck, taking in the smell. “I just love you that much.”

Suddenly reminded as to why he had come over to the other side of the table, Alfred quickly pulled out an empty chair and sat next to you. He unwound the napkin and the utensils, placing all of them in the correct positionings like he had been taught to do. He then pulled the plate towards the edge of the table, carefully stabbing a piece of turkey he had cut apart with a fork.

“Say aww!” He urged, but you knew it was more of a command.

You opened your mouth, feeling completely demeaned by the nature of the situation. He couldn’t even let you use your own hands. Your chewing was slow as your mouth still hurt from the gag. Alfred didn’t seem to mind as he just fed you another piece, repeating the cycle a few more times. Finally it seemed like he had finally gotten enough out of you and stopped, only to be repeated with a different food instead. As you were chewing, he spoke adoringly to you.

“I love you (Y/n).” He said as he continued to dote on you. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

#yandere x reader #yandere hetalia #yandere hetalia x reader #hetalia x reader #tw yandere #yandere america #yandere america x reader #alfred f jones #yandere x you #yandere america x you

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