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thetragicallynerdy · 7 months

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Alright, I'm back for one more for the wip folder game: jim ed modern flower shop tattoo parlour biker au ☺️

Ooooh yes yes!!!! I think I've rambled about this one elsewhere, but I can't find it, so here you go! This one is a long sad t4t Jim/Ed modern au where the gist is:

Ed, recently divorced from Stede, gets in a bar fight with a homophobe. Jim saves his ass and takes him home because he's too drunk to remember his new address

They become friends, and eventually lovers. Very much a vibe of Ed coaxing feral cat Jim into a relationship with love and good food.

Jim in this one has multiple warrants out for their arrest, and is a little stuck in "I need to kill the remaining few siete gallos, but fuck, I'm so tired of it." They work under the table at a bar, have basically no connections besides Ed, and are just scraping by.

Ed is also trying to rebuild after divorce, making a new home etc.

There are a lot of mental health and trauma vibes with both of them.

Eventually Jim gets stabbed, saved by Ed, loses their shitty bar job, and gets offered a job in Stede's flower shop (Stede is still good friends with Ed, or at least, they're rebuilding the friendship). Ed, meanwhile, is a tattoo artist with a shop nearby. So, the tattoo parlour/flower shop aspect is VERY loose.

This one also features Jim who hasn't had an actual relationship or friendship like, ever, and is terrified of commitment and always ready to run, and pretends Ed is just their FWB until they can't anymore. Very "yeah we're fucking but I won't say I love you or call you my partner for 75 thousand words" vibe

It's my baby. This is absolutely my most self indulgent h/c fanfic. No idea when it'll be finished but I adore it so much have I said I love it so much??

Anyway here's a snippet XD

Jim struggles to sit up on their shitty mattress on the floor, and it makes Edward doubly glad that they let him make a copy of their key. They look like shit still, hollow cheeks and skin that still hasn't regained all its colour.

"You're here early." Their voice is a slur, and he frowns, not sure if it's because they just woke up or if something is wrong.

"Last appointment of the day got cancelled, thought I'd come over. Sit the fuck back down, don't get up, I can come to you."

They slump back down with an audible sigh, waiting until he makes his way over and sits on the bed beside them. When he kisses them they relax into it, hand curling around his thigh in a way that feels lovely. Like maybe they're starting to feel comfortable with casual touch that's doesn't lead to something more. Like maybe they're starting to feel comfortable with him, with them, together.

"How're you feeling?" he asks softly when he pulls away.

They yawn, blinking when their jaw clicks together again. "Okay. Fucking tired, man." The hand on his thigh edges higher. "I don't think I can do a ton, but you can ride my mouth, if you want. Or my hand."

He stares at them. "What?"

"That's why you're here, right?" They yawn again, barely bothering to cover it with an elbow. "So we can have sex."

It hurts far, far more than it should. He forces a laugh, picking their hand off his thigh and dropping it back to the bed. "I was there when the doctor spoke to you, Jimbo, six weeks until you can do strenuous activity." When they open their mouth to argue he taps them on the nose. "Which means you've still got five fucking weeks to go."

They look terribly lost, which hurts even more than the assumption. "... then why are you here? You only come over to hook up."

To hook up. As though they hadn't been practically dating for months, now. Fuck. Fuck.

He thinks bitterly about how he'd told Stede that Jim was his friend, and wonders when he got so good at underselling things. Does Jim even think that the two of them are that much?

Instead of asking he hefts the backpack still in his hands up. "Well, now I'm here for movies and dinner. Pick one while I get started on the soup."

Jim stares at him like he has two heads. "Soup?"

"Yes, dummy, soup. You know, delicious meal with broth and vegetables thats easy on the stomach? I'm making you enough to last the week. Brought you groceries too. Those muffins that you like."

They look down at the backpack in their hands, face twisting for one brief moment before settling into careful neutrality. “… you didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure I did.” He leans in, presses a kiss to their forehead before pushing himself to his feet and heading for the groceries left by the door. He doesn’t want to see whatever their face does next, isn’t sure he could take it. “That’s what friends do, mate. Take care of each other.”

He doesn’t see it, but he hears it.

“Oh,” Jim says, voice soft and small. “Okay.”

If anyone feels like dropping me an ask for the WIP folder game, my long list of WIP titles is here!

#jim jimenez #edward teach #ofmd fanfic #the modern au #tragicallynerdy writes #jim/ed #flower shop tattoo parlour modern au

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imiya · 4 days

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Gems in MLP Magic Princess Analysis

I've been tracking my gem accumulation for the past 2 weeks and putting them into a spreadsheet. This includes things that can be reasonably considered dailies or things that refresh. I did not include things like pony level-up gems or minecart gems because those are dependent on active rather than passive gameplay.

Here is my pie chart:

Gem shops accounted for the bulk of my gems, giving me 354 of them over the two weeks I tracked. This, of course, would vary according to how many gem shops you actually have. I have put money into acquiring some of these shops, but events have been known to give them out for free. Even if you're a F2P player, you can still benefit from these, and even getting one with a very poor output rate contributes to your daily gem count.

It could also be argued that Critters are a type of Gem shop. This feature tends to net me about six gems per day with a fully upgraded fleet. This feature definitely feels a little later game, as you have to spend quite a while initially upgrading the critters to make them produce gems at all, but I would definitely advise investing as soon as possible to people who don't have these yet. Even just having the pigs and sheep can provide a good steady trickle of gems. Where I'm at with the game, I currently only feed the pigs and cows, but the cows can be much more difficult to acquire.

Events are the next biggest slice here, and this is definitely variable according to which events are going on. We can also count the rewarding fun (monthly ad watches) here. I was tracking during a month of which I already had the monthly ad pony (which nets me 50 gems after watching 81 ads) and the Crowns & Chaos event started to rerun, which is an event I've already completed in its entirety in its very first run. If you have an event that you have none of the prizes for, you will not get as many gems as I have been getting, as you will get characters and shops instead. Characters are arguably worth more than 20/30 gems, so it's worthwhile!

While I believe there is worth in playing the siege/blitz events again even if you already have all of the ponies/shops, I can't say the same for social or special events. I often find that the work you put into these events outweighs the benefits of 12/15 gems, especially seeing as how my gem shops easily make that amount in less than a day. If you're early on or don't mind playing any particular event, though, it doesn't hurt to try. I know I don't mind playing Clear The Skies for a few days every week.

Let's remove those two sections for a moment and focus on the others. Events and Gem Shops are pretty variable depending on where you are in the game and "get gem shops!" is not the most helpful advice when you have no choice but to wait for an event that actually rewards one.

Yowza! This tells me what I already knew, which was that the Group Quests are incredibly lucrative if you have the pro ponies for it. In my opinion, if a pro pony is on sale, it is always worthwhile to purchase them because the sooner you have them, the sooner you will start earning gems back on that pony. Doubly so if the pony is a fixed pro. Pro ponies are actually identified in the shop now with the golden icon, but you can find lists online of which ponies are fixed and which are random. Gem chances for these are random, but with enough pro ponies, you're bound to make some gems.

Also interesting to me is that Klugetown Pop is more lucrative than the daily gems or the pests (parasprites, bats, changelings). This is subject to randomness, too, but Klugetown Pop tokens are given out fairly freely in the group quests. If you can get a helper to gather those tokens, it's best to send them on their task as much as possible. Interesting that the Crystal Balloon Pop didn't even make it on the list, but that balloon pop sucks point blank. Equestria balloon pop likely ranks higher than royal simply because you are able to tap it more often even if the chances for gems are lower.

I'm not going to track my gem count as intensely anymore unless I think something dramatically changes, but it's cool to see a pie chart. I love a pie chart. I also averaged about 50 gems per day according to my tracking, but if you put more active play hours in (really in Minecart is the only thing I can think of as being something where you can get gems by actively playing) you could probably increase your count.

#mlp magic princess #long post

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premiumgelato · 3 months

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I've been running a Pathfinder game for my friends for six and a half years and we're having to end it early because one player is moving and another is due to give birth in about six weeks.

We were close to the natural end anyway but I'm so stressed out because I've gone from having eight sessions to wrap it up to just having two. And one of my players is being a huge pain in the ass about scheduling. She's always treated the game as secondary to every other plan she has but I haven't kicked her because I just don't want to deal with the fallout, and now it's almost over and she'll be gone soon so it's fine.

But I'm just really disappointed. I'm ready to end the game but I'm gonna miss these characters and the time I get with my best friends. It'll be a long time before I get to run a long form game again.

But I am done feeling like my players aren't putting as much thought and care and time into the story as I am. I've made it very clear to the few people I've invited to the next game that there's a certain level of seriousness and buy in I expect. I work really hard to tie my players' stories into the main plot and into the world, and I expect them to buy in and be active participants. Everyone I've invited has enthusiastically accepted and I'm feeling good about my next venture.

Luckily the novel duology I'm writing is set in this world with some of the NPCs (and PCs) from the game, just set several years before the events of the campaign (and during, I'm streamlining and condensing it). So I get to keep playing around in my setting/story at least.

#premgel speaks #i can't talk about this anywhere else #this is my only anonymous to my friends social media platform #Pathfinder #dnd #rpg #writing #im just having a pity party for a minute

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heroes-fading · 1 year

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🌻🌈💌

for the ask game!!! also rest love <33333

🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

so i actually did give up on writing for about a solid six years. life happened, at the time writing was an outlet for a lot of unpleasant stuff in my life i had no control over, so once the locus of control moved inwards i felt like i didn't "need" it anymore. after watching episode 8 of the last of us i literally could not stop thinking about it. there was no reddit thread, no podcast episode, nothing that could scratch that itch i hadn't felt in so long. i started reading fic again (and i remember very fondly embarassed and admitting that i got back into reading fic again and my husband was like "haha how long until you write it again" and i was like "I'M NOT" and well two days later i said sure).

getting back into it has been the biggest surprise and i think a part of me has always missed it and forgotten how much i LOVED writing. i made a joke to my therapist the other day of "oh, now i don't write romantic fanfiction because i'm fufilled in that department, but my daddy issues...oh daddy issues are FOREVER" and it's a joke but it's a true joke.

having a piece of yourself you can write about in some way, something that hits at something for all of us and maybe is why we're all in this space of community together, has been so special. i love writing so much, i love characterization, i love getting into the heads of these characters, i love community with folks and these feelings.

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

inordinary was very special and weird for me because it lived in my head for about two weeks before i ever put anything down for it. i started imagining it in the gym on the goddamn treadmill with headphones on and i was like "okay musicians au that's silly i don't think i could make that work" and while on a work trip i just starting writing notes in margins and laying in a hotel bed and just. thinking about it. running circles in my head about it. and eventually i gave up and wrote about half of it on the plane ride home. i was like "this will be weird. people won't like it. but my brain will not shut the fuck up about it, so, fine"

so the fact that people did like and resonate with it, that people took that leap of faith there, means a whole lot to me <3

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

lmao i'm gonna be real the drive has been empty, it's been so chaotic with work + travel i've had a dry well. BUT. i have had some things lingering around, ideas i'm not sure i'll flesh out more (do we need another modern foster care au? i'm unsure) but here's something:

no idea what i'm doing with it, maybe nothing, maybe something

THANK YOU <3

#ask #fic talk

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jodiie-leighanne · 2 years

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Warnings mostly angst

Draco's POV

"They will never last"

"She is too free"

"He is too controlling"

"It's purely for sex"

The not so hushed whispers echoed the halls as I walked by in direction of the potion classrooms knowing her schedule like the back of my hand. Always making sure I was the perfect gentleman, escorting her around to keep her safe maybe partly for my own peace of mind.

"Have you not heard what she.."

Two petite hands cover my eyes from behind, her floral perfume with hints of honey fill my senses. Instantly melting at her touch.

"Guess who?" She whispers delicately in my ear.

"Hmm, I don't know but my girlfriend could be here any minute"

"is that so?" She giggles going along with the game. "it is"

"Well she is one lucky girl" Chuckling to myself I peel her fingers away to regain my vision, spinning on my heels to face her. Watching the blush creep up her cheeks, there she is my Astoria.

Her moss green hues sparkle, seeing my reflection perfectly displayed in them. The earthy tones in her wavy locks make her majestic to stare at. A coy smile spreads on my lips as my two large palms reach to cup her porcelain face, rubbing my nose up the bridge of hers. I capture her lips in a gentle kiss. Gaining reactions from the people around us we didn't care. Public displays of affection was part of us we wanted everyone to know the feelings we held. Pecking her nose lightly after we separated, holding eye contact "No, he is the lucky one. The most fortunate man in the whole world" Her cheeks are now fully crimson.

Fuck she is adorable.

Our relationship started a little over six months ago, it was nothing more than sex here and there. It blossomed into what we have now.

Being in our last year of Hogwarts now, couples are forming more serious partnerships as apposed to our younger years - I solemnly swear to make her my wife one day.

Two weeks later.

Something is different, I can't put my finger on it. As I make my way to the common room seeking her out, it's been days since we properly spent time together. She said it's the constant revision for OWLS, it could well be. This pit in my stomach tells me different. Shoving those thoughts deep down I continue my stride to the dungeons, whispering the password as I enter. Immediately searching for her.

Spotting her at a table nursing a cup of tea, her side profile is even flawless. Smiling like a love struck teenager which I am by the way, I almost skip to her. Taking a seat beside her that was empty "Hey baby, I've been looking for you.." throwing an arm over her shoulder I kiss the crown of her hair, confusion hits me as she wiggles away. "Draco, There's people"

Brows furrowed in annoyance at her words, since when was that an issue. "That's never been a problem before Astoria" I spit shifting back slightly.

"Yeah? Well it is now, your just so.." Not once did she look at me, not once. She is stone cold.

"So what Astoria, hmm so what?"

"Clingy, in my space you-you don't let me breath" She retorts, gathering her belongings still not fully acknowledging my existence.

"Fuck, well I'm sorry for loving you" I stand as well ready to catch her before she flees.

Her gaze catches mine, it's an expression I can't read. Yet it makes me uneasy. Running a palm down her face, she parts her lips to speak "Look, meet me at the library midnight, w-we need to talk" with that she scurries away leaving me.

Leaving me perplexed, bruised and now fully convinced I was right all along. My girl is no longer just mine, she was never mine.

More a rental that I'd have to give back.

Mumbling a fuck under my breath, I head to my room. Mind swarmed in thought and dread for tonight.

Y/N

Technically it's way past curfew, as I sit in a dark corner of the library with just the moon shining through the floor to ceiling windows. Dusty drapes framing it, a dusky purple. Whoever chose those is seriously outdated. Truth is I don't know why I'm sat here at almost midnight.

Perhaps it's the exams looming, or the crippling insomnia either way here I am, knees pulled up to my chest, tucked inside my oversized Hufflepuff sweater, as I only wore cycle shorts forgetting the chill this end of the castle has.

Metal rimmed glasses framed my face, two Y/H/C strands hang down the sides of my cheeks the rest it pulled back into a high ponytail. A flask of black coffee charmed to stay hot and refill when it's running low sat on the oak table infront of my chair. Whilst I read a book on Science which I guess it close to potions or charms maybe. I'm not sure it's muggle related I know that.

Letting my mind get sucked into the words, it's definitely interesting that's for su..

Creaking of the library doors bring me out of my thoughts, not wanting to speak out I stayed hidden in the alcove, following slowly along the row of shelves, book still in clutched to my chest in case I need a weapon. Its pretty hefty, over thirty chapters long. Whispered shouts get louder the closer I get to the end. Peaking round I see two figures, ones sobbing words almost inaudible the other is furious yet broken, shoulder sunken down. Defeated.

My hearts aches for him.

"Just tell me why tori?" the male speaks, I recognise him. His hair is noticeable from miles, Draco Malfoy. The pretty brunette must be Astoria Greengrass the infamous royalty of Syltherin House. Self proclaimed of course, I never saw the fascination they are just regular people. Models in their own right, but still the same as you and I.

"Draco, I don't know why ok? It-it just happened we-we never meant for it but it did" She pauses choking on a cry as he stands numb "I don't regret it, I'm sorry Draco it's over"

Silence. I clutch my heart, almost as if I can feel the cracks in his forming.

"Just go, I don't need your pity"

"Draco, ple-.." Astoria reaches for him, just to have her hand shoved away. "I said get out, are you deaf. Get out, get out.." Draco bellows his voice cracking, the fight to hide those emotions he refuses to share is becoming harder.

Shaking the young Syltherin girl sprints for the door away from the hurting male.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck her" He screams, rage flowing through his veins pacing as clenched fists bunch at the sides of him. He abruptly kicks a chair causing it to land with a thud on the wooden flooring. The action makes me jump, the blue leather once in my grips flies through the air slamming to the ground.

Draco freezes glancing around the room, looking for signs of life. Backing away, I dart for the safety of darkness. "Is anyone there?" He calls out.

Brain fuzzy I keep moving, reaching my armchair I begin shoving items in my backpack not one hundred percent sure if its all mine or if I'm stealing right now. All I know is a badger is no match for an angry snake.

Satisfied I had everything, I pivot only to slam into a hard chest.

Merlin's sake.

A low growl rumbles out of the figure, I know exactly who it is and curse myself for being caught.

"Well, what do we have here? Little Hufflepuff lost her way?" Taunting tones leave his mouth, he is butt hurt and I'm just in the firing line.

"N-No I'm just leaving" pushing to get past him he places a rough palm on my shoulder keeping me still.

"Seems you may have overheard a private conversation, I suggest that mouth of yours stays quiet" Nodding profusely, just want to get back to my dorm "Pathetic whore" He steps to the side letting me past. Feet carrying me fast as his words replay in my head.

He doesn't mean it. He doesn't know you.

Draco's POV

Halls are bustling with the news of mine and Greengrass sudden break up, shocker. Its not even been 12 hours. Girls are shooting flirty smirks, Boys are smugly smiling in an 'I told you so' kind of way.

Blaise and Theo, patted my back telling me there's plenty of fish in the sea. Scoffing I shook them off. This girl won't break me.

If that's the case then why are tears stinging my eyes? Why does it feel like someone punched through my rib cage tearing my beating muscle out.

No, I will not cry here.

Deciding to seek solitude I head to the black lake, vast stretches of trees, water and fields. The only sounds around are those of nature.

Hands shoved deep in my pockets, I drag myself further to the shore line. Until out the corner of my eye a person catches my attention.

She is sat on the third rock into the water, what looks like a sketch book in her hand. Shifting her hues between the view and the pages.

Closing in, I remember her. The Hufflepuff from the library, the way I spoke to her was uncalled for. A branch breaks beneath my shoes causing her eyes to snap up to mine. Panic lacing her features, she scrambles to get off the stones.

"Hey, don't go. It's alright" Puzzled she just blinks "I owe you an apology for last night, I wasn't in my right.."

"It's ok, Draco" Her silky voice barely above a breeze, winds blow louder than her.

In the depths of the library I never got to take her in, she is quite beautiful. Kind, gentle features. Vocals soft. Typical Hufflepuff.

"Its not, how can I make it up to you?"

She sighs, appearing deep in thought.

"Let me help you heal, let me distract you.." She coos, as I'm toe to toe with her now. My eyes darken as a knowing smirk rises.

"Eww not like that you big pervert" She hisses smacking my arm, repulsion evident in her.

Bit rude.

This caused us both to burst into laughter, before I snatched the pad out her grasp. Causing her to shout 'oi', turning each page I cannot get over the sheer talent. She drew all of these, they are wonderful.

"You drew these?" I questioned, running a finger over the one of the thestrals, she captured them beautifully. They look other worldly drawn by her hand.

"I-I did.." She goes to grab the drawings back. "Their nothing special, can I have them. Please?" Scoffing, I hand it back to the shy Y/H/C artist.

"Your really talented, don't down play it.." I paused realising I hadn't asked her name.

"Y/N" She extends a small hand to me, taking it I turn it knuckles up, placing an gentleman's kiss in the centre. "Draco Malfoy"

"Oh I know who you are"

"Who doesn't?" a genuine grin is exchanged. The rest of the afternoon both forgetting our classes. We sat in that spot, talking.

Nothing more. I learnt about her, not from what she told me. Just from observing her. She made me calm, I wanted to open up to her.

Y/N is a simple singular ray of sunshine that pokes through the clouded skies, a promise of hope.

Y/N

Three months, that's how long its been since Draco and I have built an unlikely friendship. Gaining stares along with rumours about the merge of green and yellow.

We found them amusing, learning things about the apparent 'us'

"Did you hear we got caught canoodling by flitch?" Draco chuckled, tossing a grape in his mouth.

"I see your rumour and raise you, we get married in October because I'm impregnated with a bastard child" the blondes brows shoot up to his hair line as he leant back on his palms in our favourite spot.

"Very nice" He nods, causing us both to snicker.

It's been difficult a journey for sure, trying to get him to open up. He is melting slowly yet surely no longer a solid glacier.

In the midst of our time together, I've found a spot in my life I didn't realise was missing. A roughly six foot two, stubborn Jack ass size gap. It's filled, I never want it empty again.

Daily, I feel it that tether welding him to my heart. He is close yet so far. I want him, but I don't.

Confused is what I am.

Third person POV.

Sun setting on a Thursday afternoon behind the timeless castle, filled with magic, hope and expectance. School to all, home to many. Casting shadows on the grounds surrounding, in the centre of tall grass are two lost souls brought together. Caught in a world of their own, stepping into brinks of territory unknown.

Months passed of childish fooling around, innocent moments. Teaching each other new skills, life lessons.

There they lay camouflaged in the over grown sprouts, dandelion fairies floating around from the summery gusts.

Softening Syltherins arms propped under his head as he takes in the turning of earth. Next to him on her side is Y/N bathed in a yellow dress cut down to thigh length, reading poetry.

Draco notices her humming with a smile to herself, he mirrors this rolling to his left to face her "What's going on in that beautiful mind?"

Y/N blushes timidly, lashes fluttering up from her lines.

"Just reading a poem"

"Can-can you read it to me?" He stutters remembering how soothed he was a child when his mother read aloud.

Startled, she stutters stammering on her sentence "Oh, sure. I mean yeah if you want me to"

"I'd like that" He nods, throwing a warm smile.

Y/N POV

He nestle on his side closer to me now, no part of this feels uncomfortable I just wish he saw what I did.

Clearing my throat I begin, feeling how his eyes watch me. "Moments wrapped and romance that end with bitter sunrises and goodbyes. Moments so fragile and rare that I wonder.." Pausing for a second seeing him intently listening mindlessly running fingers through the ends of my hair, licking my lips I continue with a shiver gracing my spine. "If they would have the same taste not such a delicacy, but I'd still devour you" Hues meeting again he plucks the book out of my hand sitting up straighter dragging my top half down to rest my head in his lap, our bodies diagonal to each other. A pinch in his expression his sights scan the page.

"As I lay here I recall years of wavering emotions. Suppressed desires and volcanic explosions, that retreat into dormancy. I wonder could we ever flow" He sighs drifting his eyes back to hold mine, "or are we two twin flames, finding each other in the wrong life time?" That moment I break, shooting up to capture his lips, feeling him stiffen causing me to remove my touch completely. Sitting up on my knees completely embarrassed.

"Draco I-I.." He moves quickly towards me holding my arms tight. Shaking his head at me trying to stop me speaking but I carry on. "I shouldn't have, I didn't even ask how your doing recently after the break up - I just god I'm stupid"

Again, his head shakes face dropping slightly.

"No, no your not. It-it was painful you know, but someone was there for me pulling me out of the cracks. Do you know who that was?"

I shrug, thinking he means Theo or Blaise.

Chuckling he lifts my chin up to meet his soft grey eyes "You, silly it was you"

My neck and cheeks heat up instantly I just want to kiss him again, he leans nudging my face to the side placing a peck on my jaw.

"I'm not ready for a relationship right now, I can't let myself get fooled again a-and I'm not saying you would Y/N just give me time ok?"

Nodding I mumble an OK, bad feeling dissolving as he reaches around to hold me tightly. Feeling his warm breath edge towards my ear

"Do you know the funny thing about twin flames Y/N?" my head shakes as I nuzzle into his neck "They never burn out, their paths always align"

Silent tears rolled down my cheek as he swayed us I wanted to protest, tell him I was nothing like Astoria, I didn't. I waited patiently.

In the end, he was right. We never burnt out.

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thelastundeadbraincell · 1 year

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2022's Fanfic Wrap-up

Happy new year everyone!

I went back and forth on whether or not I wanted to make that post, but 2022 was a pretty good year overall (I mean writing-wise because otherwise it sucked massively) and there have been a few accomplishments I felt like sharing.

5th Year Anniversary

Five years ago, in September 2017, I posted my first AO3 fanfic (not my first fanfic overall, but we don't talk about those other ones), a little DC Comics fic called One Last Look. Make of it what you will, but those opening lines still slap and I might just steal them for something else one day.

100 Works

Two weeks ago as I write these lines, I posted my 100th work on AO3 (technically a bit more since I orphaned a couple of fics, but we don't talk about those either): Love, Loss, and Moving On, an Andromeda Six oneshot.

A Little Experiment

Back in April, I posted a fanfic on AO3 that I didn't think would interest anyone. It's a drabble (an actual 100-word drabble), written for a dead fandom (that was never really alive to begin with), and posted anonymously. I barely expected it to get a few hits, but it did garner some kudos. Not a lot, mind you, but enough to not be considered my least popular work of the year. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is: post your stuff, because even the most niche fic you'll write in your life will find an audience.

My Worst Title to Date

I've never been good with titles, but No Pain Without Pain certainly takes the cake (or rather the bread). It's a pun, but one that requires you to be somewhat bilingual (and even then it's not a good one).

2022 Achievements

Works posted: 19 (out of 100 in total).

Words posted: 43 739 (out of 197 895 in total).

First work posted: Happy With Someone Else.

Last work posted: Love, Loss, and Moving On.

Longest works: Tales From the Seleota System vol.1 with a total of 7860 words. Love, Loss, and Moving On with 3623 words if you count each chapter individually.

Shortest works: Sleeping Beauty with a total of 698 works. Tales From the Seleota System vol.1 if you count each chapter individually since it has a few 100-word drabbles.

Most popular work: Happy With Someone Else. No idea why. The only thing special about it is that I posted it on my birthday. But it's somehow managed to become my second most popular fic overall, and for that I'm grateful.

Least popular work: The Wallflower and the Party Pooper. No surprise there. Non-shippy fics never get a lot of traction. Still, I quite like it. It's about Cal meeting my Traveler before the events of the game. I don't write him a lot, so it felt like a breath of fresh air.

Most popular older work: Stay With Me Tonight [Explicit]. I'm not even going to ask why.

Best month: October, both in terms of productivity and reader engagement.

Worst month: August. I honestly almost gave up at that point.

What's in store for 2023?

Well... I don't know... I do want to post the last two chapters of Four Seasons, and I do have some Andromeda Six WIPs I want to finish, but I'm waiting for episode 7 to come out before I do since they'll likely tie into those events. But tbh, I'll probably move on to another fandom pretty soon. It's been fun, but I feel like I'm running in circles. There's so little actual content in the game that I'm feeling very uninspired and my writing highly suffers from it. I'm just writing the same stories over and over again; the characters are OOC (not that canon gives us a lot to go on but still); the only things I'd be excited to write in this fandom are AUs, and at this point, I think I'd be better off writing original fiction (which I might actually do, though it's such a daunting task and I don't know if I have the spoons for it tbh). Besides, there are quite a few pieces of media coming out this year that I'm actually looking forward to, and I just know one of them is going to become my new hyperfixation.

Anyway, sorry to end on that note. Once again, I wish you all a happy new year.

#tagging this as #andromeda six #since it's the main fandom i wrote for this year

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bluejaysandblackbats · 19 days

Text

An Oyster's Pearl

Fandom: DC Comics

Summary: Shortly after moving in with Joseph Wilson, Grant Wilson makes friends with a fellow pledge for a fraternity. During this time, Grant grapples with realizations about his childhood trauma, his sexuality, and his relationships with his father and siblings.

Chapters: 6/?

Characters: Grant Wilson, Joseph Wilson, Rose Wilson, Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson, William Randolph Wintergreen, Original Character(s)

Relationships: Grant Wilson/Original Character, DickJoey

Additional Tags: University AU, No Capes AU, Angst, Deaf Joseph Wilson, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Grant Wilson has a Sexuality Crisis, Frat Boy Grant Wilson

Chapter Six: Nesting

Ken knocked on my door and woke me up. "Hey, sorry—."

"You can come in," I mumbled as I reached over the side of the bed, looking for a sweatshirt. Ken stepped in and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I don't wanna put you out... My back's just acting—."

"I can sleep—."

"Your bed's big enough for two... Unless you're uncomfortable with that," Ken suggested. I moved over and dropped my sweater as he climbed in. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, wondering why he'd ask to sleep next to me. "Sorry... Is this weird?"

"No, it's not weird for me," I lied.

"When I was a kid... When my parents were alive, I never slept in my own bed. I'm not gonna lie... I've always been a little afraid of sleeping in new places. It took me two months to be able to sleep in my own bed when my sister took me in," Ken whispered, "I'm talking like I've known you my whole life..."

"I feel like I've known you all of mine," I mumbled as I turned to face my closet. It was weird of me to say it, but I meant it. "Don't worry about it. Go to sleep. I've got a game tomorrow, so you've gotta join me on my run."

Ken made a soft noise, and we both went to sleep. I think he slept better than me because I was up several times that night. I got up for a drink of water and then to pee, and then Joey woke me up with a text asking if I had any binder paper. I climbed out of bed and held my face in my hands. "You okay?" Ken asked.

"Uh-huh... Do you have binder paper? My brother's out," I mumbled. Ken nodded. "He doesn't need it now. Just before we go out for our run."

"It's four-oh-two," Ken mumbled.

I groaned painfully and got up for the last time. "Pommel horse, right?" I asked.

"Pommel horse... Now hit the showers. I'll give Joe the paper," Ken replied. I grabbed my clothes and a towel before walking to the bathroom.

Game day was my favorite day of the week. It was the most intense day of the week, from start to finish. Morning workout, team meeting, hot shower, my morning classes before a second gym run, lunch, warm-ups, the game, a nice contrast bath in the gym, and finally, a nice cool shower at home before dinner. My first shower of the day was always ice cold. I washed my hair and rolled my shoulders back, stretching my back and arms out. My timer went off, and I got dressed for my run. Then, I got started on my protein shake. I lived and died by my game day routine. Joey could set his watch by it. I drank my breakfast and waited for Ken to get ready before handing him his shake and heading out.

Ken quietly took sips of his protein shake. "What's on your mind?" I asked. It wasn't a question I'd usually ask, but I wanted to know if he'd changed his mind about being paired with me.

"Who's Carol?" Ken asked. I shrugged and looked straight forward.

"My ex-girlfriend. She's not—. It wasn't serious," I replied. It was the truth. "Why?"

"You were saying her name in your sleep," Ken replied, "Not moaning it... You were saying it like—."

"I know what I said it like," I interrupted.

"Sorry... Can I ask what you're thinking about?" Ken asked.

I nodded and tried to come off as less defensive. "I know how stupid it might sound, but I love game day. It's the only day of the week where there's just enough pressure—."

"To be great," Ken interrupted. I grinned and nodded.

"Yeah... Exactly," I smiled, "What's pommel horse?"

"It's an art form. You use your arms to support your body while you perform a routine, keeping your legs straight and your feet pointed... If you have time later in the week, I can show you," Ken answered.

I grinned at him. "I'd like that," I replied. Again, I get how that could come off as flirtatious, but I didn't mean it that way. We hit the track, and I managed to beat my mile time. Then we walked to the campus gym together. The gym allowed time for the two of us to talk, and I got to know a little bit about Ken.

"Sorry about last night. If that was weird, I can—."

"It wasn't a problem," I interrupted. I thought once I could get past the initial weirdness of being that close to Ken, I'd be okay with sleeping next to him. Besides, it would only be a week. "You said you've always been afraid of sleeping in new places?"

"Yeah, actually, there's a story behind that," Ken replied as he stood over me at the weight bench. I liked the way he spotted me. I didn't have to tell him what to do. Ken did everything how I wanted him to, and he put my water bottle where I wanted it. "I um—. When I was a kid, I had a traumatic experience at my sleepaway camp where I was attacked with a knife. I still have nightmares about it."

"Reminds me of when my—. When Slade took me on my first survival trip," I replied casually.

"Grant... I feel as if that needs more context," Ken whispered.

"I was five, and he took me on a survivalist trip... That's the cute way of saying he abandoned me in the wilderness and forced me to fend for myself for thirty-six hours. He um—. He decided it'd be a good idea to pretend he was hunting me the whole time, and he graded me on how well I avoided his attempts on my life," I answered. Ken put the weight back on the rack, and I turned to look at him. He was pale. "You okay?"

"This guy? Slade... Is he your father?" Ken asked. I nodded. "Jeez. I'm sorry, Grant."

"It's okay," I replied as we switched places at the weight bench. "What were your parents like?"

"My parents were great. They were a little off the wall, but they were good people. They never made me feel like an outsider... And they taught me to speak my mind. They did a pretty great job with my sister, too," Ken replied, "I was closer to my mom, though. Culturally speaking, I felt like I related to her more. I almost changed my name because of it, but my sister would kill me if I did that. She wanted me to have an American name like Dad... Easy for her to say. She got a cool name. My name is literally Kenneth Benjamin Fowler."

"What's your sister's name?" I asked.

"Fang Lai Fowler, which is funny because it's the name my father insisted on. My mom wanted to name her Lia," Ken replied, "I would've changed my name to Lixin as an homage to the name Fang would've had and to our grandfather, who had the same name." I softened.

"If you want, that's what I'll call you," I offered. It grew silent between us, and I felt like I might have said something wrong.

"You would call me Lixin? Even though no one else calls me Lixin?" Ken questioned.

"Yeah. That's what friends are for. Right? Besides, it'll be like my nickname for you. If that's what you want," I offered a second time.

"Cool, I'd like that," Lixin grinned. He walked me to the team meeting, and I told him the plan for the rest of the day.

I took a shower at the gym, and Lixin joined me. He stood under the showerhead next to mine, which I thought was weird, but I didn't mind. He had a muscular build, and his lower body was just as strong. I'd glanced at him too long. I caught myself noticing other things. I blushed and turned my head forward to face the tile wall in front of me. "Hey, Grant? You got any extra conditioner in that bottle?" Lixin asked. I nodded and squeezed a generous amount into his hand. I couldn't risk turning his way because I didn't want to end up staring at him again.

After my shower, we walked to class together, but I couldn't get the image of him out of my mind. "You okay?" Lixin questioned. I nodded. "Pre-game silence?"

"Oh no, sorry. I was thinking about something stupid... Wanna grab lunch after your second class?" I asked. Lixin nodded.

"Not like I've got a choice," he joked. I shook my head and laughed before going to class.

#fic #an oyster's pearl fic #Grant Wilson #Joseph Wilson #Rose Wilson #Dick Grayson #Slade Wilson #William Randolph Wintergreen #Original Character(s)#Grant Wilson/Original Character #DickJoey #University AU #No Capes AU #Angst #Deaf Joseph Wilson #Fluff and Angst #Romance #Grant Wilson has a Sexuality Crisis #Frat Boy Grant Wilson

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thetruearchmagos · 1 year

Note

it’s not october anymore (though it will forever be in my heart), so here are a couple of prompts for the october-themed ask game: 🌙 🥧 👻

Farewell October, til we meet again in a time period that will feel, at least to me, like something between six years and a week.

Now, my Answers!

🌙: Do any of your OCs have dark backstories or secrets they're trying to keep?

Ooooh, let's see....

Counts on fingers... keeps counting... runs out of fingers

Yeah, I'd say they do! I feel like it likely speaks poorly of me that most of my characters will never, ever, receive fully reveal my characters pasts, or really reveal much at all. The biggest offender is probably the guy I'm stuck calling "The Magician". He's got over a century living across the 12 Worlds and beyond them, and he's not gonna be telling you even a fraction of it. Part of it is genuine safety, for himself and others. Some of it is due to his employment in the Occult Defence Directorate, as well as certain "other services" he's rendered unto the United Commonwealth government, almost all of which is incredibly classified. And some of it is because he's an absolute dick who enjoys knowing more than anyone else in the room, which ends up usually being the case.

I'm thinking you'll hear more than a few references to past legends surrounding him, coming from various other characters, if I were to make use of him as a character. He'll seem a borderline mythical being, enemies who've only ever heard those stories speaking of him like we would Hercules or Achilles. To his friends, colleagues, and subordinates, he retains his air of mystery to varying degrees, though under a more positive light.

🥧: Let's talk about food in your WIP. Are there any special recipes or traditional meals? Do any of your OCs cook or bake?

You, my friend, have brought me perilously close to running my mouth off for a hundred years on a Worldbuilding tangent! That will have to wait for another post, if you want to hear it.

Some of them, yes, and the way and why of their cooking is something I've considered trying to use for their characterisation. The Magician is... a magician, who could frankly never eat at all without suffering much, yet indulges himself constantly on as fine cuisine as he can manage to get, or simply using said Magic to conjure up a meal with a snap of his fingers. Still, he retains what is said to be a rather developed skill as a cook, though the only thing most will see of that is a breakfast of soft boiled eggs, and toast of butter and a mysterious kaya jam. And if you know what that refers to, you get a star! If you don't, I'm happy to tell you, but also, haha!

Meanwhile, Higgs and a very important, yet so far not much talked about, man named Jean Dumont cook for their SOs, a symbol of their affection. Colonel Higgs ain't much of a cook, sporadic attempts at simple dishes being her limit, but Lt. Gen. Gustav would take it all in as if it were liquid gold as long as he knew she made it, something I think of as a symbol of their love being the slender strings bringing together two people who have been through so much horror, violence, and trauma, and have found in each other something and someone to hold onto, to be so foolishly free with. Brigadier Jean, who by the way is Gustav's Chief of Staff, on the other hand, would make a good crack at a Michelin star, if that existed in the 12 Worlds. He cooks for his wife, Hadhi, not lavish but certainly well made meals they enjoy, especially with each others company. In their case, the homely meal around the table is the sort of love they could rarely share back in the Wars, and so every moment they can spend in one another's is another chance to make up for lost time. There's is a long love, a deep and passionate love that has been tested and left unyielding through the horrors of war and lonely distance, which weathers the storm unflinching and, at the end of it, leaves the other with a home, hearth, and haven to come back to.

... alright, one unscheduled rant on love and relationships, done!

Oh dear, I realise I may now sound utterly insane after reading that

👻: Can you tease some WIP ideas that have been haunting you / something you want to write in the future?

Can I? Yeah, probably!

Alright, there's a lot of them. I'm gonna go with one, and just one so this doesn't get too long, of my weirder ones. Warning, one very long and poorly worded rant ahead!

Ever heard of "The Adventure of the Dancing Men"? It's a Sherlock Holmes story, one of my favourites, and in a way it inspired this WIP, which currently lacks an actual name. Basically, it starts off with these two guys, good mates, meeting up at a cafe. One of them seems nervous about something, and after some sort of prodding by the MC, says his fiancee's been acting a bit strangely recently. Blank letters and strange packages keep arriving, sent for her even though she says she never ordered them. She's become incredibly anxious, sometimes scared to leave the house, sometimes completely missing for the whole day, until she returns late at night, impossibly tired. The fiance says he feels like he's being followed, and that apparently people have been asking about him at his workplace.

The MC knows the two of them well, and knows they loved each other dearly, couldn't be seperated, and when he hears of the parcels and questions he realises that his friends might even be in serious danger. Now, MC here has a friend, a semi-retired detective from the police force who has quite the legend about herself, and goes to speak with her. She first tells him to mind his own business, but relents, and decides to call in with her old boss to see if he can help.

Since she's done that, she isn't surprised when she's called in by said boss to the station. However, when she's there, her boss tells her that she can't do anything to help, and that our Detective is to immediately and completely cease any involvement with "the Fiancee" or her SO. Now, she doesn't like hearing this, and begins questioning her boss, but seconds after she gets started the door to the office bursts open, and an older man and a slightly less old woman, wearing suits, step into the room. They move to stand to either side of the Boss, and the woman introduces them as members of the "security and intelligence" community, or something along those lines. She says that the woman in question is involved with something highly sensitive, and that as such the Detective's involvement would place a significant risk to security and public safety. She gets her and her boss's word that they will not involve themselves, leaving them a signed order from their own superior, the Director General of the Police Forces, and then departs with her silent colleague.

Needless to say, the Detective is immediately suspicious, but is conflicted about what she can do about it. She meets with the MC, and they chat over the whole affair. The next day, they find out something happened.

The Fiancee is missing, and the Fiance was found unconscious, laying on the floor of their apartment. The dwelling looks as if it'd been hit by a tornado, ripped apart and thrown about, and all of the woman's belongings are as absent as their owner is.

And... that's it for the Teaser! Believe me, there is sooooo much I didn't include, Gemini, though if you're really curious I can say more over the Messages or in another post. Until then, I'll leave you with... whatever this was.

And, that's a wrap!

#writeblr ask game #my writing #my wips #asks #original writing #This was oddly fun #especially for the second one #I didn't even know I did that stuff #but it exists now!

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starks-hero · 3 years

Text

Right a Wrong

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You, Sam and Bucky get to work repairing Sam’s family boat. Turns out the boat isn’t the only thing in need of fixing. But with help from you and Sam, Bucky figures some stuff out.

Word Count: 3,745

Warnings: a bit of a make-out session but not enough to be classed as smut, tfatws spoilers! 1x05

a/n: This is a direct result of watching episode 5 too many times. Spoilers below!

|| Part Two ||

Small waves lapped gently against the dock and the afternoon sun warmed your back as you worked on the old boat.

You were standing side by side with Bucky, crowbar in hand as you attempted to pry off the old metal cleats from the boats side, whilst he expertly pulled rusted pipes apart and threw them into a pile. As if on queue, one of the pipes on the opposite side of the ship burst, hissing and spurting out white clouds of steam. You marvelled at how quickly Bucky reacted, quickly crossing the deck and sealing the leak with an abrupt upward turn of the pipe with his metal arm.

"Where did you learn so much about fixing boats?" You teased, motioning to the now fixed pipe with your crowbar. Bucky dusted off his hands.

"I used to work on the docks in Brooklyn before the war." He shrugged, rolling up his sleeves to the elbow and taking a seat on a crate next to you. "I picked up a few things."

He furthered his point by leaning over and pulling at the cleat you'd been grappling with. It came away from where it was attached to the boat's side with ease in Buckys iron grip. He smirked as he tossed the scrap aside and you rolled your eyes.

"Show off."

Bucky chuckled, sitting back as Sam stepped onto the boat. He was carrying a crate in one hand and shook his head when he noticed Bucky's smirk and your dismissive smile.

"Alright, you two." He placed the crate down and pulled out two green bottles, throwing one to Bucky and handing you the other. "Beer break."

Sam took a seat across from you both and you sighed as you opened your beer, raising it up to Bucky.

His annoyance was discredited by the fond smile that broke through his expression as he begrudgingly clinked his bottle with yours. You reached over and did the same with Sam as the three of you relaxed under the heat of the Louisiana sun.

"It's starting to look good," you noted as you glanced around the boat and Sam smiled.

"Yeah, it's coming together." He took a swig of his beer. "You know, Sarah and I were talking." He started and both you and Bucky glanced up at him. "And we could use the help. Don't suppose you two would consider staying around a while? Just till we get a lead on Karli."

The offer caused a noticeable smile to pull at your lips whilst Bucky shifted beside you at Sam's words. His agitation grew and he stood.

"I've got my plane to catch tomorrow, a hotel room for the night," he said, raising his bottle to his lips to hide his doubt. He really didn't have that much of a plan beyond that.

"You're just gonna set me up like that, huh?" Sam asked and Bucky shrugged.

"Well, I don't want to make it weird for your family."

"Just stay here," Sam said and you couldn't help but nod subconsciously. The truth was you really didn't really want to leave. There was something about staying with the Wilson's and spending the day fixing up an old run-down family boat that made everything seem so normal. It gave you a sense of home, a sense of normality that you hadn't had in a long time. For a while, it even made you forget about the flag smashers, Walker, all of it. It was a much-needed break.

"The people in this town are the most welcoming in the world. They don't care if you wear small t-shirts or if you've got six toes or if your mom is your aunt-"

You laughed and Bucky barely hid a chuckle behind a huff of breath and a bright smile.

"Okay, I get it. The people are nice."

You placed your bottle aside and turned to Sam.

"You're sure Sarah doesn't mind?" you asked and Sam's smile only widened.

"She's the one that offered."

Grinning, you sat back and nodded. "Then I don't see why not."

"See?" Sam pointed to you and then Bucky. "Just stay, man."

Bucky shuffled his feet for a moment before finally answering with a begrudging, "Okay. Alright." He didn't say anything else as he turned and walked down the boat.

"He'll come around. He probably just wants his space." You said, picking up your beer. Sam nodded, taking a swig of his own drink.

"I hope you're right."

You woke up feeling more refreshed than you had in a while. Your hands and back hurt slightly from the tiring work on the boat, but it was a dull ache compared to the constant throbbing that came after a mission. Your cheeks were warm, surely as a result of the hours spent out in the sun the day before.

Both you and Bucky stayed the night. Sarah had offered you the spare room and after a solid fifteen minutes of bickering, you finally conceded to Bucky and agreed to sleep in the guest bed. He took the couch.

The sun was just beginning to rise up over the water when you and Bucky both headed back out to the boat. Sam joined you not long after. You worked until mid-afternoon, reluctantly taking short breaks. You fell into a quick rhythm as you worked around the boat. Surprisingly, the three of you seemed to make a pretty decent team off of the battlefield.

"Hey, can you pass me a 12-300?" Sam asked from under the boat's control panel. Bucky reached into the toolbox and placed the wrench in Sam's outstretched hand. A few seconds later Sam was rolling out from under the controls and glaring disapprovingly at Bucky.

"What?"

"I asked for a 12-300," Sam stated plainly. "This is a 10-250."

"No, it's not." Bucky bit back.

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not!"

"Hey, geniuses." You cut their bickering short as both men turned to look at you. You held up the grease-slick wrench that had been misplaced and tossed it to Sam. "You left it below deck when you were working on the engine."

Sam muttered a quiet 'thanks' as he got back to work. Silence settled over the three of you for a few minutes until Sam decided it was getting awkward.

"So, are you still planning on leaving tonight?" He asked from under the station and Bucky nodded, before realising Sam couldn't see him.

"Yeah," he said loud enough for Sam to hear. "I'll be out of your way soon."

You could hear Sam's sigh from beneath you as he clambered back to his feet and stood between you and the super-soldier leaning against the wall of the cabin.

"Well, there's no hurry."

Sam didn't say anything else as he cleaned the oil and grease from his hands with a cloth and stepped off the boat. Bucky sighed and let his head fall back behind him.

"Go," you ordered plainly and he looked up at you.

"What?"

"Go," you said again, nodding your head towards where Sam was walking away. "You both need to talk. Bucky, whatever you're not saying, it's getting to you. So go talk to him."

Bucky hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He glared at nothing in particular but his gaze softened when it found you and he muttered a quiet, 'fine.' You stepped aside as he made his way past you and stepped up onto the dock, heading after Sam.

"And don't be a smart ass!" You called after him. He didn't reply, but you could only hope that Sam and Bucky's conversation would be somewhat constructive.

"Nice shot!" You retrieved the football from the back of the goal as Cass, Sam's eldest nephew, celebrated his score.

Once Sam and Bucky had left the boat, you had headed back to the house, helping Sarah with any errands or chores, doing anything you could to help out. Sam and Bucky had been gone a little over an hour and you didn't know if that meant their talk was going very well or very not. You'd been sitting rather uselessly on the couch, waiting in anticipation, when Sam's nephews had invited you to play a game of football. And how could you refuse?

You tossed the ball back to the boys who eagerly pounced at it. You were stood in the small goal, allowing both boys to take as many shots as they wanted. AJ stepped forward and kicked the ball, groaning when it flew off to the left, a few meters away from where you were standing and missed the net entirely. He glanced down at the ground, disheartened.

“Hey, it's alright, AJ.” You smiled as you ran to grab the ball and passed it back to him. “Come on, try again.”

With encouragement from his brother, he took the shot and this time the ball planted itself in the top corner of the goal. Both boys cheered as they celebrated and you smiled. You dusted yourself off, your knees and hands covered in dust from the football game as you turned to head back inside the house. Both boys protested as you left but you promised them you'd be back. The more time you spent with AJ, Cass, Sam and Sarah, the more you didn't want to leave. There was something about staying with the Wilson's that made you feel content. It was homely and offered a sense of normality that the last few weeks had caused you to miss.

You entered the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water. Sarah had told you over and over again to help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You leaned against the counter, glass in hand and just basked in the feeling of not having to worry about donning a suit and risking your life at a moments notice. It was something you could get used to.

“That was adorable.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of a voice and you found Bucky joining you in the kitchen. He was smirking fondly.

“You and the boys.”

You chuckled softly and shrugged. “They're sweet kids.”

Bucky nodded, pulling a glass of his own from the shelf and filling it with water from the tap. It furthered the sense of domesticity that you were really starting to love. He took a seat at the table across from you.

“So,” you started as you placed your own glass aside. “How did it go? You and Sam.”

Bucky chuckled and you couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or genuine, but something about the grin that lingered on his lips had you banking on the latter.

‘‘Not bad,” he admitted eventually with a shrug. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “We talked. He said if I'm going to fix anything, if I'm going to get what's left of him out of my mind.” Bucky subconsciously ran his hand across his temple. “I'm going to have to put in the work. Help the people I wronged instead of just saying sorry.”

You nodded, silently making a note to thank Sam later on. He always had a way with words, he could always get through to people. That's why he was given the shield.

“He's got a point.”

Bucky scoffed and hung his head at your words. “I should have known you'd be on his side.” There was no hostility in his words. He just sounded amused, and maybe a little tired.

“I don't think this comes down to whose side I'm on, Bucky. We both want what's best for you.” You answered honestly and Bucky glimpsed up at you. He anxiously toyed with his hands as you spoke, looking vulnerable, and slightly lost despite how hard he tried to hide it. You knew Sam had already spoken to him, but it couldn't hurt for you to say something as well.

“Look Bucky, telling yourself that you're okay and that everything that happened doesn't matter anymore because you've made 'amends' isn't going to help.”

He sighed, shuffling his feet against the tiles of the kitchen floor. “I know,” he admitted quietly.

“And I know you're probably tired of hearing this but, you're not him anymore, Bucky. You're not the winter soldier. Everything you did whilst you were him wasn't your choice. Just because you remember it doesn't mean that it was your fault. It's not your responsibility to fix it.”

Bucky sighed but didn't interrupt. He was listening. This wasn't like the therapist that he was forced to sit in front of and lie to every other week. This was someone he trusted, someone whose words he valued. Someone he honestly believed could help. He sighed but nodded to show that he was still listening.

“I think Sam’s right,” you said. “It might not be your responsibility to fix everything that went wrong but trying could help. It could give you that closure that you keep chasing after. You need to let go, Bucky. You need to forgive yourself. Maybe you just need the people who are hurting to forgive you first. Then you can learn how to do the same.”

Bucky's expression was unreadable. So many emotions flashed across his eyes you found it difficult to pinpoint just one.

“How do I start?” he asked quietly. It just seemed impossible. There were so many people he'd hurt, so many people he'd wronged. He'd left children as orphans, wives as widows and parents childless. How could he possibly start trying to fix or make all those people feel in any way better?

You smiled softly at his question. “Small. One at a time,” you said simply. “Then just keep putting one in front of the other.”

Bucky considered your words, glancing down at his hands as he thought. Before long, a small smirk pulled at his lips.

“I can't decide who'd make a better therapist. You or Sam,” he joked and you laughed, shaking your head dismissively.

“Well, Sam did council veterans so I think he takes that title.”

“I'd say it's pretty tied,” Bucky said, walking across the kitchen and standing next to you as he washed his glass, drying it off and placing it back on the shelf. The room fell into a comfortable silence.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He said after a moment, his tone sincere and his expression genuine as he looked at you. You nodded, gently placing your hand against his shoulder.

“Don't mention it. You know I'm always here if you need to talk.”

The sound of a football colliding with the wall dangerously close to the window followed by two voice's loudly shouting, 'sorry!' in unison drew a quaint laugh from you both.

“Duty calls.” You grinned, patting Bucky on the back as you passed him. “Team Wilson is missing its goalkeeper.”

Bucky chuckled, watching you go. You crossed the kitchen but his voice stopped you just as your hand reached the doors handle.

“Y/N?”

You turned back around to face him and couldn't help but notice that he seemed a little more apprehensive than he had before.

“Yeah?”

He exhaled slowly, willing himself to tell you what was on his mind.

“I was just thinking things over and you know, I’m leaving today,” he hesitated slightly before glancing up at you. “And I guess I was wondering if you’d come with me?”

Your hand slipped from where it was still holding the brass handle of the door. You tilted your head as your mind fully processed his question. The shock must have been evident in your expression as Bucky rushed to continue.

“I know you're planning on staying here and I get why.” He pulled a tattered red book from his pocket which you immediately recognized as Steve’s. He began absentmindedly turning the pages, running his fingers over the paper. “I want to try and start fixing things, making things right. But truth is I have no idea where to start. I thought that maybe you could help me with that?”

“I thought you wanted your space," you admitted after a moment.

“No.” He shook his head. “That's the last thing I want.”

You thought it over, resting your back against the door. Bucky trusted you, evidently a lot more than you thought he did. Not only was he comfortable enough telling you how he felt and admitting he didn't know what to do next. But he also wanted you with him. It was clear he was holding back, not wanting to overwhelm you by admitting just how badly he wanted you to go with him. But the way he eagerly watched you as he waited patiently for your answer was a dead give away.

You wanted to help Bucky, you wanted to be there for him. If that meant helping him right his wrongs and staying with him during that trying time, at least until Sam got a lead on Karli and the Flag Smashers, then you were more than happy to comply.

“You're sure about this?” you asked and Bucky pushed off the counter and crossed the room, stopping just in front of you.

“Absolutely.” His voice dropped down to a hushed whisper. “Come with me.” His hand gently caught your wrist, his fingers running up your arm. His face was inches from yours now, your breaths mingling. “Please?”

His lips pressed to yours before you could answer and you immediately kissed back. Your hand fell against his shoulder, the other laying gently against the nape of his neck. He groaned quietly against you, his arms finding your waist as he gently guided you backwards till your back met the wall. He pressed into you, his hands roaming up your body and you moaned as he deepened the kiss.

“Yes.” You answered when he pulled away slightly and he smiled against you, relieved. Neither of you said anything else as Bucky sighed and pulled you closer, his thigh slipping between your legs as he pinned you to the wall.

God, he'd wanted to do this for so long. Wanted to kiss you, to feel you against him. He wanted you. Your hand slipped into his hair and you pulled him closer, smirking against him. You'd wanted this just as bad. And you both only had your own stubbornness to blame for taking so damn long. It didn't matter now though. Not as he gently bit down on your lower lip and you slipped your hand under his shirt and felt up his chest. It all felt so natural, so right.

“Ten minutes.”

Both your eyes flew open at the all too familiar voice, Bucky pulling away from you so quickly he only barely avoided falling over a nearby chair.

“I left you two alone to talk for ten minutes,” Sam repeated from where he was standing on the other side of the room, his arms crossed. You tried to subtly smoothen out your clothes whilst Bucky ran his hand through his tangled hair.

“We were,” Bucky said, clearing his throat. “We were talking. We...talked.”

Sam nodded, entirely unconvinced, and smirked. He reclined against the counter, showing no sign of leaving anytime soon. A painfully awkward silence settled over the kitchen as Sam continued to shift his knowing stare from you to Bucky.

The humiliation of the entire situation seemed to get to Bucky first as he clasped his hands together after less than a minute.

“You know, what? I'm leaving in a few hours and I've got to pack so I better just go-” Bucky rambled as he shot you a subtle apologetic look before turning to Sam, who was nodding along in faux agreement to his pathetic attempt of an excuse.

Bucky quickly crossed the kitchen, Sam harshly patting him on the back as he passed him and left the room. Leaving just you and Sam alone. You turned to your friend and found that he was still grinning at you with that same mischievous look in his eyes. You felt like a deer in headlights. In an attempt to act as though Sam hadn't just walked in on you and Bucky making out, you tried making normal conversation.

“Sam, there was actually something I wanted to tell you. I know I said I was going to stay for a while but I guess there's been a change of plan. I-”

“I know.” He cut you off and his smile only widened when you looked at him in utter confusion. “You honestly think he would have asked you to go with him if I didn't tell him to get his shit together first?”

Your confusion slowly melted away and was replaced with a look of disbelief. You laughed despite yourself. You should have known Sam had something to do with it. ‘‘How long have you been playing cupid?” you asked jokingly and Sam chuckled.

“He needs you, Y/N. More than he wants to admit,” Sam said, tone now more serious than before. “Things will be fine here, I'll call you as soon as Torres finds us something to work with. But right now, he needs your help before that hole he's stuck in gets too deep for him to climb out of.”

You sighed as the weight of Sam's words set in. He was right, Bucky really did need you. That wasn't a responsibility you could afford to take lightly. Not that you planned to.

“Thanks, Sam,” you said genuinely and Sam smirked as he crossed the room and pulled you into a hug. He could tell you needed it.

“Anytime.” He pulled away and offered you a warning glare. “But I swear, if you two making out the minute I turn my back becomes a regular thing I'm going to kick both your asses.”

“Got it,” you nodded, barely stifling a laugh.

Sam's scowl melted into a smile and he motioned towards the stairs. “Go on, get your things together. You've got a plane to catch in a few hours.”

You smiled and headed upstairs after Bucky. Sam leaned against the counter with his arms crossed and a satisfied smile. Getting you two together had taken more work than he'd thought. But he knew it would be worth it, you both needed each other. Whether you were willing to admit it or not. And Sam was confident that if there was anyone that could help Bucky and offer him that sense of home and peace that he was so desperately craving, it was you.

tag list: @bakerstreethound @miraclesoflove @doozywoozy @kealohilani-tepise

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes #tfatws spoilers #tfaws #tfatws x reader #platonic!sam x reader #sebastian stan x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fic #marvel x reader #1k

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poguestvff · 3 years

Text

Used To The Cold — S. Cameron

In which Sarah Cameron comes to a realization after her girlfriend moves across the country.

taglist | main masterlist | 2.0k words

warning(s): none, fluff, i heart sarah <33

Have you ever lost something that held either so many memories or brought a sort of happiness that just warmed you immediately even at the sight of it? Most people have something like that. Such as for children when it comes to losing stuffed animals or action figures that were a source of comfort, they missed it like hell. Said children grow up and look for a new source of comfort. Some teenagers found it in weed and alchohol, others in sports. For Sarah Cameron, she grew out of the beautiful pink blanket her father had gotten her as a toddler. As she grew into a teenager, she found a new solace.

Her girlfriend.

Sarah made it very apparent to show her love to her girlfriend who, at one point, was just her best friend who she could hardly even bare to be away from. Sarah had known she'd loved Y/n before they even got together by the way Sarah had never felt claustrophobic in the friendship that she held with the other girl. She said the three words within the first six months of being with her, words she had never spoken to another being other than her family. It was a word she, personally, took seriously. For her to say it to Y/n showed the amount of trust she held within her. Trust to not feel so closed off with Y/n.

At the beginning of the relationship, Sarah was glad that not much had changed between the two of them. That Y/n let her have her space whenever she needed it without the dependent need to be together all day though it quickly became backwards. Sarah grew even more clingy to Y/n, hardly able to deal without her hands being stuck to her girlfriend like glue. Whenever they went out to lunch, Sarah played a one sided game of footsies that only brought a smile upon Y/n’s features, one of Sarah’s favorite traits about her. Sarah loved the idea of always having a person to call her own, Y/n seeming to be the one person who could bring out her newfound touchiness. Though, sometimes she pondered on whether Y/n herself was even handling it or if she just ‘put up’ with it. If she did have an indifference towards Sarah’s actions, she surely never showed her disinterest in it.

Though the last time Sarah had held on to her girlfriend felt soul crushing and gut wrenching. As the two of them stood on the creaky, wooden dock just before the ferry, Sarah felt drained. Between the amount of crying she’d done in just the past few days had been enough to make her want to sleep forever and the comfort of her girlfriends arms around her hadn’t helped that feeling. Tears held a steady stream down both of their faces though Sarah was the one who was unable to contain her sobs. People passed around them, solemn looks given to the two of them as they listened in on the sniffles and soft wails.

Y/n didn’t need to be a genius to understand that this was twice as hard for Sarah as it would be for her. Y/n was leaving, miles away that Sarah couldn’t even pin on when the next time she’d being able to hold on to her would be. All she knew was that this embrace that Y/n held on her would be the last one for months and there wasn’t a thing that would be able to make up for it between now and then.

It evoked an indescribable sort of fear within Sarah but she knew it was immutable. If Sarah could, she'd even drop her whole life within Outer Banks to follow her girlfriend across the world. There wasn't much Sarah wouldn't do and there wasn't much Y/n wouldn't do for Sarah either, including the moving date having already been pushed back a month because of Y/n's several arguments with her parents.

"I don't want you to go." sarah whispered as y/n kissed her neck. She could hear the blonde's pained and wavering voice, how affected she already was even as Y/n hadn't even stood on the boat yet.

"I know, lover." the y/h/c girl spoke in a low tone, only sarah able to hear her words of affirmation. Y/n was first to pull back, placing her hands on Sarah's cheeks. The sight of Sarah with puffy eyes and a quivering lip made y/n's heart throb and a guilty feeling blanket over her like a raising tide. "i'll visit. Every chance I get, you know I will."

"It won't be the same." she lamented. Y/n placed her lips against Sarah’s, delicately as if the blonde were made of porcelain. When Y/n's parents had called for her and Ward and Rose had called Sarah away from the dock, Sarah only seemed to want to cling further, fingers pressing further into the thin jacket Y/n worse, but their time had finally run out. Even after weeks of pretending that they had all the time in the world, like nothing could pull the two of them apart, it had happened.

The first few weeks, the whole Cameron house had known Sarah spent most of her nights crying herself to sleep and the entire Y/l/n house knew Y/n was not going to be speaking to them for a little while due to their newest decision. Both groups of parents hadn't known that pulling the duo away from one another would become such a quagmire for each of them.

When Y/n did finally decide to talk to her parents, it was usually to say she was leaving to explore the area in which she refused to get to know the first few days. With a driver license, it gave her just a bit of freedom from her parents who's impromptu decisions had still caused for a tearing in their familial relationship.

Y/n sat in her parked car, a hot beverage in hand to adjust to the cold in which she'd just stood in for five minutes. All of it for a drink that wasn't even that good in her opinion but she dealt with it. With the hand not holding the steaming drink, she opened her phone, smiling immediately at the photo of her and sarah as her background. She unlocked it, scrolling around to find Sarah's contact and setting her phone up against the dashboard. While it began to ring, Y/n situated herself to begin to drive. "Hi, Y/n/n!" Sarah shouted excitedly the second she'd answered.

At her tone of voice did Y/n laugh. The enthusiasm was no surprise but it was funny to Y/n every time. "Hi, baby." She replied, fhe smile remaining on her face as she looked towards the screen. Sarah sat at her desk, her hands under her jaw though a pencil between her fingers. She had focused all of her attention from the papers in front of her to the driver on the other end of the phone. "What are you doing?"

The sound of whizzing paper had made Y/n glance to the phone seeing a math sheet now replacing Sarah's face before she placed it back down, a frown appearing on her features. "Math."

"Didn't you just start like two days ago?" Y/n asked, taking a sip from her drink.

"Yes and this teacher is an absolute bitch. You're just lucky you don't start for another week. You would hate Mr. Henley."

Y/n let out an awfully dramatic gasp. "Um, hello, Mr. Henley was literally my home room teacher last year, I'll have you know. Show some respect." She said, almost missing Sarah's chagrined look as she smiled.

"You're supposed to be on my side here."

"Sorry, i don't believe in biases, Sar." She joked for sarah to let out a small snicker.

"So tell me, how's minnesota?" Sarah asked, trying to spark up a conversation even if the distance was the same thing she wanted to keep her mind off of.

"Oh, it's so great. So many hot people." she remarked.

"You're not funny, no one has ever found you funny." Sarah replied though unable to hold in her laugh along with her girlfriend. "I'm serious. we haven't talked much about it and i don't want to like... avoid your new life now."

Y/n sighed, looking towards the phone to see Sarah looking back down at her work in front of her. "Fine. Well, it doesn't particularly suck. The no surfing part definitely does, though, but what can you do. And the coffee here... no, its just so bad, babe. granted, i only had one, and it's in my cup holder right now but it's gross."

"My coffee making is better, right?" Sarah asked as Y/n gave a hefty nod.

"So much better, even if it is the only thing you're good at making." Y/n laughed and Sarah attempted to refuse a smile, her cheeks quivering from trying to keep it down. "But the weather dropped today, randomly. It was seventy yesterday, fifty today but i think i'm getting used to the cold."

Sarah lifted her head back to the phone, watching Y/n focus on driving, her eyes diverting on places away from the screen. Sarah but at her inner cheek, drumming her fingers against the white wood that rested under her forearms. "Used to it?" Sarah asked. She knew Y/n's move was permanent at least until she was eighteen but something about those words made it seem more realistic. She was getting used to a place that wasn't home.

Y/n hummed. "Yeah, i'm probably being dramatic. I saw a guy walking around in a tank top and shorts while i'm wearing double pair of socks right now." she grinned at her own comment though picking up on Sarah's sudden discomfort when she replied with a small 'wow'. "Lover?"

"Yeah?"

"What's going on?" Y/n asked, the car slowing to a stop at a red light.

Sarah quickly shook her head. "No, it's nothing. Just... the work. Keep your eye on the road."

"Sarah." The blond recognized the tone of voice quickly.

"Just... I just fully realized how permanent this is. I won't see you until, what? December? That's a long time, Y/n! And, i get it, it's your home now and i can't do anything about it but—"

Y/n was quick to cut her off. "I never said this is home. Sure I live here but it's just a couple walls and a roof. It's not home, Sarah." Y/n began. "Home is you. And trust me, i've been missing home the second i got on that ferry."

Despite them having to look at one another through a glass screen the feeling—the connection between the two of them was still felt. Sarah could feel the normal warm feeling she would've gotten whenever Y/n would simply hold her hand or brush her hair over her ear. she held that much of an effect on Sarah in person and somehow even thousands of miles away.

Sarah hadn't even realized she had been staring for a total of twenty seconds until a singular tear fell down her blushing cheeks. she quickly sniffled, recomposing herself as she wiped it away. "Are you seriously making me cry right now?" She muttered with the way the atmosphere had become though relishing in the way Y/n laughed in response.

"Yes, thank you for ignoring everything i just said, lover." Y/n put the car back in drive as the light went green. Due to the steets being relatively empty in her new small town, she took the time to look back over at the phone to Sarah. "I love you."

Sarah's smile widened in thag very moment, pursing her lips before pushing them out. "I love you more."

"And don't worry. I won't get to used to it. I'll be back home, to you, before you even know it." Y/n took a small glance to the phone, enjoying Sarah's gaze that showed even with the distance put between the two of them, they'd be fine.

#outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank #sarah cameron fluff #sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron #obx imagine #john b routledge #pope heyward

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years

Note

omg I love your work very much! You write really great and it's a pleasure to read you. I have a small request, if it's possible. I've never read this before so why write a one-shot (or series?) with a reader pregnant with chishiya ? (pleassse) With this news, it becomes extremely protective with the reader. Thank you so much !!

Yeah sure! Here you go! ❤

Trying My Best | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

{Main Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Ann, OC)

Summary: You tell Chishiya that you’re pregnant and his change in behaviour from the news is hard not to notice

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, murder, swearing, graphic violence (guns), heavy angst, vomiting, panicking, blood

Word Count: 3.3k

*reader is female

Chishiya gif credit

“Chishiya, I think I’m pregnant.”

The statement hit the young man like a thousand knives. He stood up on the roof of the hotel, the moon reflecting off his glowing skin. You stared at his side profile, waiting for his reaction to the news, but he merely sighed and tucked a piece of his bleached hair behind his ears. “How do you know?”

“I’ve been throwing up a lot, without even feeling nauseated at first. It just suddenly hits and I have to run to the bathroom,” you began listing your symptoms to back your claim. “I also have been a lot more tired, going to bed super early and waking up super late. As well as my period hasn’t come yet, and it’s been a week since it was due.”

You still kept your eyes on Chishiya, trying to figure out how he was feeling. His emotions hardly ever come through his body language. He seemed too calm for your liking, but you couldn’t exactly tell because you weren’t able to see his eyes.

“It is mine?” he asked, turning to you with a serious expression. Your eyes widened in shock. “Whose else would it be Chishiya?” you exclaimed, shoving his shoulder in disbelief.

Chishiya smirked and looked away from you again. “Just making sure.”

“Do you want to keep it?”

The question took Chishiya off guard. “That’s not my choice to make,” he said.

“Yeah but if it were?” you pressed, sliding along the railing until your sides were touching. Chishiya went quiet for a few minutes, thinking about his answer. “I would hate to bring a baby into this world if I’m being totally honest,” he started. “But it’s not like we have a choice.”

You nodded and laid your head on his shoulder, feeling safe and sound against his warmth and scent. He laid his cheek on top of your head and sighed heavily.

“What are we going to do Chishiya? We’re too young to be parents, let alone in a world like this.” You felt your eyes start to water but tried your best to hold in your cries. You were terrified. Not only would you have to go through nine months of pregnancy, you would also have to play games in order to keep your visa valid.

“Hey,” you heard Chishiya say. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll push through this together. And I’ll make sure I’m here with you every step of the way.”

His words made you smile sadly, and droop your head down into your hands. You cried softly as Chishiya rubbed your back in a comforting manner.

It would be tough, impossible even. But the both of you had each other, and that’s all you needed to push through.

***********

Ever since that evening on the roof with Chishiya when you told him about the baby, he had acted strangely since.

He had lost his cocky and smug personality, being replaced by a cautious and anxious type of behaviour. You began to feel worried about him, because it was so out of character.

It didn’t go unnoticed by other members of The Beach either. Although you hadn’t told anyone else about the news (wanting to keep it between you and Chishiya), you found yourself being confronted by a lot of people asking if Chishiya was okay.

Ann mentioned that during a meeting he rushed out suddenly, not even stopping to say where he was going or why. You reassured her that he was fine, and that the stress of the games may have just started getting to his head a bit.

It was like you were suddenly dating a whole different person. There wasn’t a moment where he wasn’t by your side, always asking if you needed anything or that you were okay. He’d refuse to let you do the smallest of things, liking lifting heavy objects or even dancing in the crowd at night. There were times you would have to reason with him and remind him that you weren’t helpless, and you were basically only a few weeks pregnant, and he was acting like you were eight months. He always shrugged it off though and argued back that he just felt overwhelmed, so he wanted to try his best to be the best partner he could be during the stressful time.

But when push came to shove and you had to participate in games to renew your visa, Chishiya always insisted that he went with you. Even if you said no and tried to convince him that you would be fine, he refused to listen. You didn’t have a chance when trying to reason with his stubbornness.

*************

You had decided to participate in a game a few days earlier than when your visa would expire so you wouldn’t have the stress of having to rush to one on the night it expired. As well as you had been feeling okay for the past few hours and you didn’t want to lose the opportunity of clearing a game when you were at your best instead of being forced to play one on one of your worse days.

When you told Chishiya your plan, you ended up having a small argument. Chishiya thought it was unreasonable for you to put yourself in danger when it could be prevented, as well as he felt anxious due to you not being able to perform to the best of your ability because you were holding your child.

But after you both calmed down after realizing that arguing would get you nowhere, you both decided to go to the game that night, as long as Chishiya was able to come with you.

The game was simple enough. It was a six of clubs. Each player had to find an area of the building to stay put in no more than groups of three. You were able to move around these small areas, but once the game started and you were inside one, you were not permitted to leave your area. There were four seekers, each with a different animal mask on their heads. Each area in the building also represented one of the seeker’s animals. The goal was to kill the seeker that had the animal corresponding to your area. So the players would have to create a way to lure the seeker’s to their position, but if they lure the wrong one, they would have to hide until they left.

To clear the game, players would have to kill all four of the seekers. But if they failed to do so in the time limit, flames would emerge from the ground of all areas, killing all the remaining players.

In the registration room, Chishiya kept a firm grip on your arm, making you stay close to him. There were two tables, one holding the usual phones for the players, but the other was covered with a variety of hand-held weapons, scattered across the top of it.

Chishiya strolled over to the weapon table and scanned the dangerous objects. He reached to a moderately sized blade and felt it in his hand before turning to you and holding it out, wanting you to take it.

“Here, you have this one. If we happen to get separated and you come across one of the seekers, give them a short jab to the throat with this. I have my taser to defend me.”

“We won’t get separated, we have designated areas.”

Chishiya looked directly in your eyes and sighed, placing a hand on your head. “You know what I mean.”

You hung your head low. He was meaning if he was to die. “Don’t you dare die on me now Chishiya. If you do anything reckless, you bet your stupid ass I will make sure you survive this game just so I can kill you later.”

Chishiya chuckled at your threat, allowing you to see his shiny teeth in a smile. He knew that if there would be a point that you were in any kind of potential danger, he would throw himself in front of you. His life wasn’t worth as much as yours or his child’s, to him at least.

Around ten minutes later, you both sat in a dark room that had a large painting of a wedge-tailed eagle across one of the walls. You both already assumed that was the seeker you were trying to attract. You came up with the plan to wait a short while before starting to attract the eagle’s attention, because then other people may have already killed their seeker, making it less of a chance for a different animal to come find you.

You both sat in silence on the uncomfortable couch that had springs and stuffing pouring out of it. It was the only piece of furniture in the room, so there wasn’t really anywhere else to wait.

You groaned as a short stab of pain shot through your lower abdomen, making Chishiya snap his head to you and place a soft hand over your arm that held your stomach area. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

You waved your hand in front of you. “It’s fine, just a cramp.”

Chishiya sighed in relief and rubbed your back soothingly. You swore you could hear his heartbeat through his chest, thumping against his ribcage rapidly. He was terrified, but he sure knew how to hide it from you.

You both sat in silent together, your head leaning against Chishiya’s chest as he stroked your head softly, trying to keep your nerves down. “How are we going to keep this up Chishiya?” you asked out of the blue. Chishiya hummed in acknowledgement. “I don’t know, we’ll just take one step at a time.”

The situation was overwhelming for you. With the mix of the fear of dying, your stomach cramps, Chishiya’s comforting voice and the eerie atmosphere, you couldn’t help but feel tears of stress start developing in your eyes. Before you could even get the chance to wipe them away, a sudden sob erupted from your throat, making you cover your mouth and push your face further into Chishiya’s chest.

“Aw no, don’t cry,” Chishiya cooed, wrapping his arms around your torso and holding you close. “We’re going to be fine. Trust me,” Chishiya pulled back and held your teary face in his palms. “As long as I’m here, nothing’s going to hurt you.”

You smiled at his promise, leaning into his touch on your cheek, making his face glow slightly pink.

As you and Chishiya stayed huddled close together and spoke in whispered tones, you froze as you began to hear a small noise just outside the door of the room.

Chishiya didn’t seem to hear it, and he kept talking. “Shh!” you said, cutting him off. He frowned at you and followed your gaze to the large, grey door that stood opposite to your position on the couch.

Silence filled the air as you both tried hard to listen. The tension in the room was making you almost suffocate.

“I think there’s someone outside.” you stated, standing up from your position and slowly beginning to shuffle along the floor towards the door. But Chishiya rushed after you and pulled you back before your hand could touch the door handle.

“What are you doing?!” he whisper-yelled, turning you towards him by moving your shoulders. You blinked at him, confused. “What do you mean? We need to kill it!”

“But we don’t know if it’s the eagle or not. It’s better if we hide until we’re sure it’s the one we have to kill.”

“We haven’t got time! We have less than five minutes to finish the game, so the chance of the eagle being the only one left is quite likely.”

“You don’t know that. And we aren’t even sure whether they carry weapons or not. It’s too high of a risk, and I’m not letting you put yourself in danger like that, especially when you’re pregnant with our child.”

“For fucks sake Chishiya! I’m not defenseless!”

Your yells became louder and louder with each argumentative statement, which eventually gave away your position to the seeker that stood just outside the door.

Just as you were about to rip away from Chishiya’s grip on your shoulder when you heard the large door creak open. You both turned around abruptly at the sound and laid on your eyes on a tall figure with an eagle mask covering his face. In his hand he held a small machine gun, making Chishiya’s stomach drop at the sight of it.

“Y/N!”

He grabbed your shoulders once again as you stood there in shock, not being able to move. Chishiya yelled as he pulled you roughly further into the room towards another small door that led to a closet. A few rounds of bullets shot around the room, illuminating the small space for a few short milliseconds and making the both of you develop a piercing ringing noise in your ears.

Chishiya pulled you against him as you struggled, pushing you against the wall with him in front of you, shielding you from the seeker. As he did so, he ripped the small closet door open beside you and shoved you inside, panicking and trying to get you to safety as soon as possible.

You fell to the floor of the closet, a small groan leaving your mouth as you hit the ground harshly. You were about to stand up again to push yourself out to help Chishiya, but he kicked you down before you had the chance. Your eyes landed on his, filled with frustration, but they softened as they saw the waterfalls cascading down his face.

“Please,” he choked out, putting the door behind him so the seeker can’t shoot him from the back. “For once in your life just listen to me and stay in here. Please don’t come out.”

That’s all he said before he stepped around the closet door and slammed it shut. The absolute fear and sadness on his face was burnt into your mind. You had never seen Chishiya hold such dreadful emotion on his features. It made you feel awfully guilty for picking a fight with him.

You finally came to your senses, the ringing in your ears faded and the gunshots just outside the door made your head spin. You sobbed and covered your ears with your hands, trying to block out the sounds. Your stomach churned and groaned, and you suddenly felt the urge to throw up.

You lunged forward from your sitting position on the floor and emptied the contents of your stomach on the tiled ground, coughing and gagging on the putrid smell and taste of it in your mouth.

“Fuck,” you mumbled out, rubbing your eyes to clear the tears dripping from them.

Something shifted in the pocket of your jeans, making you turn your head and place a hand over the object. Reaching in, you hissed as a sharp blade slightly cut your finger. You pulled it out gently and held it in front of you.

It was the blade Chishiya gave you at the start of the game.

“I can’t abandon him. My last words to him can’t be an argument,” you rasped out, putting a hand to your chest to recover your breathing. “I’m not going to let him die. He can’t escape being a father that easily.”

Slowly you lifted yourself up onto your feet, using the shelves in the closet as leverage. You shuffled towards the door, holding your blade out in front of you, ready to attack if you needed. You weren’t thinking straight, at that moment you didn’t even think about the fact that the seeker had a gun, all you could think about was Chishiya.

You slowly pressed down on the door handle, opening it carefully in case the seeker was still in the room. It was back to it’s darkness, making your heart drop lower.

You stepped out around the door. It was eerily quiet, making you become anxious. Something must have happened. It wouldn’t be this quiet if Chishiya and the seeker were still fighting.

A sudden wet feeling on your foot broke you from your thoughts and you glanced down to see a dark liquid seeping into your shoe. You leaned down to look at it more closely, noticing how a strong metallic smell filled your nostrils as you did so.

It was blood, but whose blood was it?

Your breathing began to quicken as you started panicking. It was a large puddle, there was no way Chishiya would survive if he got injured that badly.

“Chishiya!” you yelled out, hearing nothing but your own echo answering you. You held no care for being heard by the potentially still alive seeker at that moment. All you wanted was to find Chishiya.

“Chishiya, please!” You lifted your feet and rushed to the grey door where the seeker originally came from. It was slightly ajar and a light from the hallway outside was shining through into the room.

You pushed through the door, almost tripping over in the process. Further up the hall, two people laid on the ground. One was on their back with no movement while the other was leant up against the wall clutching their shoulder.

The injured one wore a white hoodie, making you immediately recognize them as your partner.

“Oh my god, Chishiya.” you whispered as you approached him, eyes locking on the large blood stain on his white hoodie. “Y/N, I told you to stay in the room,” he groaned out.

You placed a hand against his that held his wound, trying to keep pressure on it to lessen the bleeding. “I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to let you die that easy.”

He smiled up at you, a pained expression on his face as he hissed and whimpered at the pain of his wound. “They got me in the shoulder, but that was it.”

“You should be fine. If we get back to The Beach and get Ann to remove the bullet, it’ll heal fine.”

He knew you didn’t really know that. You were trying to reassure yourself that he would live. But either way, he wasn’t planning on dying on you anytime soon.

You looked away from him, glancing over at the figure lying on the ground motionless. The eagle mask was still lazily placed on their face. Chishiya probably didn’t want to remove it out of respect for the individual.

“How’d you kill them?” you asked, locking eyes with him once again.

“A few shocks around the ears to knock them out. But I didn’t take any sharp blades with me so I had to get creative,” he explained, nodding over towards a small slab of metal that laid a few metres away. “After a few hits with that to their head, they were gone.”

You cringed at the thought, but you appreciated Chishiya having the bravery to do that.

You felt a soft hand pressing itself against your stomach, rubbing the spot up and down. “Are they okay?”

A smile spread across your face. “I think so. They didn’t help much by making me throw up in the closet,” you laughed, making Chishiya grin.

“Causing mum trouble already.”

A happy tune being played from each of your pockets caught your attention.

“Game Clear. Congratulations.”

The reality suddenly hit you. You were alive and so was Chishiya. And although you would have to go through many more traumatic and harsh events such as the one you had just experienced, you would at least be there for each other, whether the outcome was bad or not.

“Come on. Let’s go home,” Chishiya groaned, using his good arm to push himself up. You helped him by lifting him by his shoulders.

You were alive today, and that’s all that mattered. You would worry about tomorrow when it comes round to it.

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lareinenoir · 3 years

Text

THE PURGE; Sanctuary C.E x black reader

PT III

60 Days Until The Purge

THEN...

"I'll order take out. I know you like Thai-"

"Don't order anything. I'm actually not even hungry." You said as he took your bag and put it on his shoulder. "What?" He was looking at you weird and it made you frown.

"Where's the rest of your stuff?"

"You asked me to stay the night. That is my overnight bag." You replied folding your arms and walking over to the couch. Your hand touched your forehead and you sighed. You could still feel him looking at you as you tried to relax with your head leaned back. "After I tell Shonda about our situation, you're signing the papers."

"What do you mean-"

"You know what I mean." You shot back

"Ok, well theirs a lot to consider now." He motioned to your stomach and you sat up straight. "We're having a baby, now."

"No no no." You shook your head feeling your petty insides bubble a bit in sarcasm. "I'm having a baby. Me. Just me.”

"Obviously I want to be apart of our baby's life." Chris argued back and you frowned and scoffed. He put your bag down and crossed his arms as you brushed it off. "You can't seriously think I won't. V that's insane."

"You wanna know what's insane? You think you're gonna get anywhere near it. Why in the hell would I allow you and your broken promises anywhere near my child? Do you think I'm stupid? To make the same mistake twice!"

"Again? V what do you want me to do?" He asks throwing his hands up. "Acting is what I do, that's my job-"

"I don't care about that. I'm not asking you to chose your job or me-"

"It damn well near sounds like it. I would never make you choose." He countered back and you gripped your fists together.

"You may not have said it directly, but there have been many times where you have indirectly patronized me. I just found out I'm pregnant and I have been trying so hard to deal with it." you replied watching him pace back and forth and shake his head. "I have been getting the worst headaches, I can't keep any food down and I literally get lightheaded on set every single day because hiding my pregnancy has been a real joy ride." You replied sarcastically with a small chuckle

"What do you want me to do? I tell you to tell the producers, you get mad. I tell you to take a break, you get mad. I tell you to come over and you’re mad.” Chris said in disbelief. “I don't know what you want from me." He shrugs brushing the hair from his eyes.

"Not once since you found out have you asked me how I'm doing? My whole career is at risk I could lose my job. And you don't even seem to care.” You said

"V, I do care." He reached for your shoulder and you took in another breath. "I want you to stop worrying all the time. And you're right, I should be concerned more about you. I should be there for you-I should've been there for you in the beginning.” He admitted and you folded your lips again.

Are For real this time? Should I let it go and move past it? Again? No because it'll start all over again.

"This baby is mine. This is a life changing thing that's happening, I can't let you ruin it too." You spoke

" I'm taking responsibility because this is something I want. Ok? Can't we find some common ground? You of all people should know what it's like to grow up without a father!"

"You know too!" You shouted back. Chris' dad had died when he was younger. He talked about him sometimes but not as much. "I'd rather have had my father six feet under then to have him choosing when it's convenient for him to show up!" You said with your foot down shaking your head.

"Forget the divorce. Me and you living here happily married for the years to come. Whats so bad about that? Why can't I have that? What's so wrong with the picture of two parents raising a child?" His voice was loud and he was getting frustrated. He didn't shout, but you could tell how passionate he was about it. He always wanted to be a daddy, a parent. "Huh?"

"It's not just about you!" You said stepping closer. "Because..." You shrugged feeling your eyes water as you suck in your cheeks. "I knew the kind of man I was marrying. So involved with his job it took him almost fifteen years to actually start dating. It's not about you or your career. This baby is all I have right now.”

He looked confused as he relaxed his brow and pinched the bridge of his nose. From two feet away you could feel his heartbeat and you felt a little bad for how foolish you probably looked. You still loved him, not like you ever stopped, but you remembered that you still loved him.

Because, it's not about me either anymore. You thought

"Forget the papers okay..." You said swallowing your own pride. "just forget it. You’re right. I want our child to have two parents who will love him unconditionally. But it has to stop, because it takes two. I can't have you with one foot in the door." You admitted

“Yeah yeah.” He nodded “yeah I get that. I’m not going anywhere.” Chris said and you walked forward and took his hand kissing his palm as you placed it on the side of your face. “I promise V.” He cups your face and stares into your eyes. His stubble poking at you a bit as you held his wrists.

“I love you.” You said with a small smile

“Still?” He laughed making you roll your eyes as you giggled a little. “I love you too. Are you sure you aren’t hungry?” He asks again

“Yes.” You nodded “now shut up and come take a nap with me.”

NOW....

CHRIS POV**

“Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!” I said throwing the phone on the couch. I had called five times and her phone went straight to voicemail.

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. ALL Weapons have been authorized for use during the purge. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 121 days. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until December 15, 12:00 o’clock midnight, when the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers and America... A nation reborn. May God be with you all.”

My tv was replayed the message nine more times before shutting off. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Today is august 15, Vanessa’s birthday is tomorrow which was when she’d be 17 weeks. We had marked it on the calendar together. More than half my wife’s pregnancy would be spent during the purge. I needed to find her!

I didn’t support the purge. Something about killing people to be “cleansed” just didn’t sit right in my gut. It made my heart ache thinking about the clean up at the end. I could bring Dodger, but he can only do so much. Maybe he could help track her scent. Grabbing my coat I folded my lips together.

“Fuck!” I shout

With what weapon? How was I going to run the streets looking for my wife without a gun? I loved the idea of owning one, but Vanessa made me swear not to bring one in the house if she was there. So I just dropped the idea. Looking in the kitchen I grabbed one of the Chef knives off the rack. Maybe this would be enough for now...

“Damnit!” I curse looking at Dodger. “She said she was at Topanga Park. Start there?” I asked, as if he’d answer back. I grabbed her bonnet from off the bathroom door handle and stuffed it in my backpack.

I didn’t hesitate l. I locked up everything and jumped inside my truck. Dodger sat on the passenger side and I felt my hands start to shake as I put my foot on the gas. I started to promise god I would go to church if he would keep her safe.

“I don’t even know if you’re even listening or you even care. I love her, I’ve been such and idiot and I don’t wanna lose her.” I looked at Dodger and he was sitting up straight. “I remember you didn’t like her. You wouldn’t let her anywhere near me, you bark and squeeze yourself in between us when we sat down in the room to watch movies.” I chuckle wiping the little tear that slipped from my eye “You stole one of her wigs too.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!” she shouted chasing you around the house. “DODGER GIVE IT BACK! COME BACK!”

We chased him around the house and Dodger thought it was some sort of game. We had been officially dating for a month. I had started laughing when I caught him and held her headband wig in my hand. She stood their with her arms folded while I petted his head and she rolled her eyes.

"I told you he doesn't like me." She said as I stood up and she took the wig from my hand.

"Come on, he's just getting used to you."

"I've been over here every day. Your dog hates me."

"What?" I tilted my head to the side and touch her nose with my index finger. "Deal breaker? If my dog doesn't like my girlfriend, I'm gonna dump her? Tell me where that makes sense."

She walked closer to me and wrapped her arms around my waist looking up at the ceiling as I kissed her neck. "I guess you have a point." Vanessa sighed.

"He's just warming up to you that's all."

"What's stopping me from breaking up with you?"

"Over a dog?"

"This is his third assault against me. First it was tearing up my purse, then chewing up my crocs, not to mention the little shit I found inside of them. And now stealing my wig and playing cat and mouse." Said Vanessa as I rested my head on top of hers. "Luckily this is a backup wig."

“Aren’t you wearing one right now?” I asked

“Headband wig. And that wig your dog has destroyed,” she gave him the side eye “it was my favorite and expensive.” She gritted her teeth

“I’ll buy you another one.” I offered

She purses her lips and shook her head. “I don’t want you buying me anything. I’ll just break up with you. For real this time.”

"Fine then..." I baited her shrugging my shoulders. "Break up with me."

“Over a dog?” She frowns mocking me as I smile down at her and her eyebrows bend downward a little as she caressed my face. Her finger was gentle and she stood on her top toes and kissed my lips. “Never.”

...

I look over at Dodger and pat his head. "We'll find her. I know we will." I say trying to lift my spirits.

When we arrived to Topanga Park, it was a sight. I didn't even want to leave the truck. I felt my heart race a little more. "What the hell..."

In the middle of traffic-in between the cars were bodies. Dodger started barking at the train of blood that stained the streets. It was empty, but I could feel a heavy weight on my back. Walking behind me, next to me...it was all around me. I hadn't realized I had my hand over my mouth an nose, it was hard for me to breath as the stench of dead bodies. Dodger kept barking and that led to me chasing after him. I had her bonnet in one hand and I called after him.

I came to a halt when I came face to face with another person. He had Dodger in his hands and I felt my muscle tense up. He was tall and very familiar looking. I swallowed the lump in my throat and held the kitchen knife in my hand with a firm grip.

"Captain America?"

I tilted my head sideways and licked my lower lip narrowing my brow a little. "Yeah, give me the dog and we can go our separate ways. Ok?"

He nodded his head. He ran his fingers through his hair and put the dog down. I wasn't really concerned about who he was I was trying to prepare for a fight. He dropped his gun on the ground and held up his his hand.

"I'm not going to kill you. I'm looking for my wife." He said "She left her watch in that building." He pointed to the school and slowly pulled the watch from his pocket.

"In there?" I asked

"Yeah." He nodded, but I still couldn't shake the feeling I knew him from somewhere. "My name is Jared. My wife's name is Gianne, I'm pretty sure she was with someone else-are you looking for someone too? Maybe we could help each other. There was something written on the chalkboard in there, I wasn't something Gia would write, but she was here. All I wanna do is find her-"

"Supernatural?" I asked turning my head to the side. Vanessa loved that show. Whenever she had spare time she would watch it or on those many night she'd spend the night at my house we would watch it-well not really watch it. The Netflix and 'chill' was emphasized. "You said something about some sort of message on the wall?" I asked motioning with my hand. "what did it say?"

"um, CE equals BE or something like that." He shrugged

I laughed a little. Vanessa Evans plus Chris Evans equals Baby Evans. It was a stupid joke-an Easter egg if you will. Shonda put in the show on the whiteboard in one of our love scenes as a way to announce our pregnancy to the audience. She often left clues to the next episode in every episode except this one was not only in the show but in real life.

"Chris Evans." I say extending my hand out to him. I'm pretty sure he knew by the little smile playing on his face. He shook my hand and nodded his head.

"I know. I'm a big marvel fan, I know all your lines." Jared chuckled and then cleared his throat as he nervously laughed. "Nice to meet you. I'm Jared Padalecki - I know I said that already..."

I introduced him to Dodger and I felt a little more relaxed. I gathered that she was alive and we both came to the assumption that they were traveling together.

"Where do you think their headed?" I asked as we walked to his car which was tricked out and full of ammunition and guns. Not to mention government level protective gear.

"While I was in there, I picked up someone else. Heavy footed and big, traveling with dogs. Hair everywhere." He went on tossing me a bullet proof vest. "You heard of Sanctuary?"

"The safety place? Yeah, but it's hard to find. It's for people who get caught in the Purge right?"

He narrowed his brow and shook his head. "No." Said Jared sharply. "Sanctuary is a secret government funded task force. It started off as a conspiracy some myth to explain all the random disappearances throughout the year. It's a government project designed for population control." He went on

"Ok...what does that have anything to do with the Purge?"

"Everything. An organization designed to control the US population. We're talking Pro killers who were once on a leash, but when that horn sounded and the Purge began, they are just as free to kill anyone they want." Said Jared handing me an ipad. It was a list of celebrities. From pro athletes like Steph Curry and their immediate families to movie stars and singers like Rhianna and Tom Cruise. "There are rumors that they are hunting celebrities. The kardashians and Jenner's are fair game. If not the stars themselves then they choose their parents, brothers and sisters."

"And do what?" I asked quietly as I saw mine and Vanesssa picture

"Most get auctioned off to the highest bidder, I've also heard they kill them on the spot for money or bring them in to fight for the death. Bottom line, there is a bounty on our heads. During the Purge everyone is fair game, their is no protection."

"You're telling me she's out there being hunted by them right now?" I asked

“Possibly. The dog hair isn’t a breed we know. They are a combination of hunting canines, bloodhound, foxhound, Labrador retriever with the built and aggression of a something like a pit bull a Rottweiler.” Said Jared as I looked up from the iPad and gave it back. “You’re gonna need more than a kitchen knife. We find the dogs and the hunter and we’ll find them.”

He held a gun out to me and wiped my mouth with the palm of my hand trying to mentally prepare for what is to come."

“Do you believe in the Purge?” I asked still questioning why his car was full of weapons. “You kill people?”

He nodded his head. “Yes. I don’t believe in hiding or waiting for someone to kill me. We all have the right to Purge."

"What's stopping you from killing me?"

Jared sighed and shook his head. "I'm hunting them. I'm surviving and if you decide to threaten my survival, then I'll kill you." He went over to the driver side of his Ford charger. "Get in. Knowing Gia she is headed for Roberts hole."

"What's that?" I asked climbing in the passenger seat of the car.

“It’s a Cassino for celebrities. Jack Black owns it. It’s locked up right but open to his favorites during the Purge.”

“They’ll be there?”

“Relax.” He out his hand in my shoulder and looked at me as dodger sat in the back seat. “We will find them. You know how to shoot don’t you?” Jared raised his gun in the air and nodded my head.

I guess it wasn’t confidently and he chuckled. “Vanessa isn’t a fan of guns.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll practice. Ok?”

A/N: Sorry it took so long😬 don’t hate me, please. Lol, I hope everyone is doing well and safe out here. If you wanna be tagged leave it in the ask box, Anyways…Untill next time!

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#chris evans x black women #fangirls #fanfiction #fans #chris evans #fanfics #chris evans fluff #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x reader #the purge: sanctuary #the purge fanfic #the purge au #chris evans x pregnant!reader #chris evans imagine #imagines #the purge #pregnant reader

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brawltogethernow · 4 years

Note

So, I don't think I've ever asked you this... what IS the whole point of the Spider-Sense? It really seems like something that only exists for writers to ignore or work around when they want to inject Legit Tension into a story.

I’ve thought about this power so much, but never with an eye to defend its right to exist, so I needed to think about this. The results could be more concise.

Ironically, given the question, I have to say its main purpose is to ramp up tension. But it’s also a highly variable multitool that a skilled creative team can use for...pretty much anything. It does everything the writer wants it to, while for its wielder always falls just short of doing enough.

I went looking through my photos for a really generic, classic-looking example to use as an image to head this topic, but then I ran into the time Peter absolutely did not reimburse this man for his stolen McDonald’s, so have that instead.

A Scare Chord, But You Can Draw It

That one post that says the spider-sense is just super-anxiety isn’t, like, wrong. It’s a very anxious, dramatic storytelling tool originally designed for a very anxious, dramatic protagonist. I find it speaks to the overall tone of the franchise that some characters are functionally psychics, but with a psychic ability that only points out problems.

Spidey sense pinging? There’s danger, be stressed! Broken? Now the lead won’t even KNOW when there’s a problem, scary! Single character is immune to it? That’s an invisible knife in the dark oh my god what the fuck what the fU--

Like its counterpart in garden variety anxiety, the only time the spider-sense reduces tension is in the middle of a crisis. But in the wish fulfillmenty way that you want in an adventure story to justify exaggerated action sequences, the same way enhanced strength or durability does. Also like those, it would theoretically make someone much safer to have it, but it exists in the story to let your character navigate into and weather more dangerous situations.

For its basic role in a story, a danger sense is a snappy way to rile up both the reader and the protagonist that doesn’t offer much information beyond that it’s time to sit smart because shit is about to go down.

Spidey comic canon is all over the board in quality and genre, and it started needing to subvert its formulas before the creators got a handle on what those formulas even were, and basically no one has read anything approaching most of it at this point, so for consistent examples of a really bare bones use of this power in storytelling, I’d point to the property that’s done the best job yet of boiling down the mechanics of Spider-Man to their absolute most basic essentials for adaptation to a compelling monster of the week TV series.

Or as you probably know it, Danny Phantom. DON’T BOO, I’M RIGHT.

DP is Spider-Man with about 2/3 of the serial numbers filed off and no death (ironically), and Danny’s ghost sense is the most proof in the formula example of what the spidey sense is for: It’s a big sign held up for the viewer that says, “Something is wrong! Pay attention!” Effectively a visual scare chord. It’s about That Drama. And it works, which won it a consistent place in the show’s formula. We’re talking several times an episode here.

So why does it work?

It’s a little counterintuitive, but it’s strong storytelling to tell your audience that something bad is going to happen before it does. A vague, punchy spoiler transforms the ignorant calm before a conflict into a tense moment of anticipation. ...And it makes sure people don’t fail to absorb the beginning of said conflict because they weren’t prepared to shift gears when the scene did. Shock is a valuable tool, too, but treating it like a staple is how you burn out your audience instead of keeping them engaged. Not to go after an easy target, but you need to know how to manage your audience’s alarm if you don’t want to end up like Game of Thrones.

The limits of the spider-sense also keep you on your toes when handled by a smart writer. It tells Peter (everyone’s is a little different, so I’m going to cite the og) about threats to his person, but it doesn’t elaborate with any details when it’s not already obvious why, what kind, and from what. And it doesn’t warn him about anything else-- Which is a pretty critical gap when you zoom out and look at his hero career’s successes and failures and conclude that it’s definitely why he’s lived as long as he has acting the way he does, but was useless as he failed to save a string of people he’d have much rather had live on than him.

(Any long-running superhero mythos has these incidents, but with Peter they’re important to the core themes.)

And since this power is by plot for plot (or because it’s roughly agreed it only really blares about threats that check at least two boxes of being major, immediate, or physical), it always kicks in enough to register when the danger is bearing down...when it’s too late to actually do anything about it if “anything” is a more complex action than “dodge”.

Really? Not until the elevator doors started to open?

That Distinctive, Crunchy Spider Flavor

The spider-sense and its little pen squiggles go hand in hand with wallcrawling (and its unique and instantly identifiable associated body language) to make the Spider-Person powerset enduringly iconic and elevate characters with it from being generic mid-level super-bricks. Visually, but also in how it shapes the story.

I said it can share a narrative role with super strength. But when you end a fight and go home, super strength continues to make your character feel powerful, probably safer than they’d be otherwise, maybe dangerous.

The spider-sense just keeps blaring, “Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong! God, why aren’t you doing something about this!?”

Pretty morose thing to live with, for a safety net! Kind of a double edged sword you have there! Could be constantly being hyperattuned to problems would prime you for a negative outlook on life. Kind of seems like a power that would make it impossible for a moral person to take a day off, leading them into a beleaguered and resentful yet dutiful attitude about the whole superhero gig! Might build up to some of the core traits of this mythos, maybe! Might lead to a lot of fifteen minute retirement stories, or something. Might even be a built in ‘great responsibility’ alarm that gets you a main character who as a rule is not going to stop fighting until he physically cannot fight anymore.

Certainly not apropos of anything, just throwing this short lived barely-a-joke tagline up for fun.

One of my personal favorite things about stories with superpowers is keeping in mind how they cause the people who have them to act in unusual ways outside of fights, so when you tell me that these people have an entire extra sense that tells them when the gas in their house is leaking through a barely useful hot/cold warning system that never turns off, I’m like, eyes emojis, popcorn out, notebook open, listening intently, spectacles on, the whole deal.

It also contributes to Peter Parker’s personality in a way I really enjoy: It allows him to act like an irrational maniac. When you know exactly when a situation becomes dangerous and how much, normal levels of caution go out the window and absolutely nothing you do makes sense from an exterior standpoint anymore. That’s the good shit. I would like to see more exploration of how the non-Parker characters experiencing the world in this incredibly altered way bounce in response.

It’s also one of many tools in this franchise hauling the reader into relating more closely with the main character. The backbone of classic Spidey is probably being in on secrets only Peter and the reader know which completely reframe how one views the situation on the page. It’s just a big irony mine for the whole first decade. A convenient way to inform the reader and the lead that something is bad news that’s not perceivable to any other characters is youth-with-a-big-exciting-secret catnip.

Another point for tension, there, in that being aware of danger is not synonymous with being able to act on it. If there’s no visible reason for you to be acting strange, well...you’re just going to have to sit tight and sweat, aren’t you? Some gratuitous head wiggles never hurt when setting up that type of conflict.

Have I mentioned that they look cool? Simultaneously punchy and distinctive, with a respectable amount of leeway for artists to get creative with and still coming up with something easily recognizable? And pretty easy to intuit the meaning of even without the long-winded explanations common in the days when people wrote comics with the intent that someone could come in cold on any random issue and follow along okay, I think, although the mechanic has been deeply ingrained in popular culture for so long that I can’t really say for sure.

It was also useful back in the day when no artists drew the eyes on the Spider-Man mask as emoting and were conveying the lead’s expressions entirely through body language and panel composition. If you wiggle enough squiggles, you don’t need eyebrows.

Take This Handwave and Never Ask Me a Logistical Question Again

This ability patches plot holes faster than people can pick them open AND it can act as an excuse to get any plot rolling you can think of if paired with one meddling protagonist who doesn’t know how to mind their own business. Buy it now for only $19.99 (in four installments; that’s four installments of $19.99).

Why can a teenager win a six on one fight against other superhumans? Well, the spider-sense is the ultimate edge in combat, duh.

Why can Peter websling? Why doesn’t everyone websling? Well, the spider-sense is keeping him from eating flagpole when he violently flings himself across New York in a way neither man nor spider was ever meant to move.

How are we supposed to get him involved with the plot this week???? Well, that crate FELT dangerous, so he’s going to investigate it. Oh, dip, it was full of guns and radioactive snakes! Probably shouldn’t have opened that!

Yeah, okay, but why isn’t it fixing everything, then? Isn’t it supposed to be why Peter has never accidentally unmasked in front of somebody? ('Nother entry for this section, take a shot.) That’s crazy sensitive! How does he still have any problems!? Is everything bad that’s ever happened to characters with this powerset bad writing!? --Listen, I think as people with uncanny senses that can tell us whether we are in danger with accuracy that varies from incredible to approximate (I am talking about the five senses that most people have), we should all know better than to underestimate our ability to tune them out or interpret them wrong and fuck ourselves up anyway. I honestly find this part completely realistic.

*SLAPS ROOF OF SPIDER-SENSE* YOU CAN FIT SO MANY STORIES IN THIS THING

The spider-sense is a clean branch into...whatever. There is the exact right balance of structure and wishy-washiness to build off of. A sample selection of whatevers that have been built:

It’s sci-fi and spy gadgets when Peter builds technology that can interface with it.

It’s quasi-mystical when Kaine and Annie-May get stronger versions of it that give them literal psychic visions, or when you want to get mythological and start talking about all the spider-characters being part of a grand web of fate.

Kaine loses his and it becomes symbolic of a future newly unbound by constraints, entangled thematically with the improved physical health he picked up at the same time -- a loss presented as a gain.

Peter loses his and almost dies 782 times in one afternoon because that didn’t make the people he provoked when he had it stop trying to kill him, and also because he isn’t about to start “””taking the subway’’””’ “‘’“”to work”””’’” like some kind of loser who doesn’t get a heads up when he’s about to hit a pigeon at 50mph.

Peter’s starts tuning into his wife’s anxiety and it’s a tool in a relationship study.

It starts pinging whenever Peter’s near his boss who’s secretly been replaced by a shapeshifter and he IGNORES IT because his boss is enough of an asshole that that doesn’t strike him as weird; now it’s a comedy/irony tool.

Into the Spider-Verse made it this beautiful poetic thing connecting all the spider-heroes in the multiverse and stacked up a story on it about instant connection, loss, and incredibly unlikely strangers becoming a found family. It was also aesthetic as FUCK. Remember the scene where Miles just hears barely intelligible whispering that’s all lines people say later in the film and then his own voice very clearly says “look out” and then the room explodes?? Fuck!!!!

Venom becomes immune to it after hitchhiking to Earth in Peter’s bone juice and it makes him a unique threat while telling a more-homoerotic-than-I-assume-was-originally-intended story about violation and how close relationships can be dangerous when they go sour.

It doesn’t work on people you trust for maximum soap opera energy. Love the innate tragedy of this feature coming up.

IN CONCLUSION I don’t have much patience for writers who don’t take advantage of it, never mind feel they need to write around it.

#spiderman #peter parker #spiderverse #spidey #marvel #danny phantom #one day you'll see what i'm doing with it in the project i'm collabing on w/ my brother and then you'll all be sorry and hopefully impresse #mirrorfalls #asks answered #essays

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ssamie · 3 years

Text

six. “friends die together”

kozume kenma x fem dazai!reader

(bsd x hq)

tw: mentions of suicide

masterlist. suicide freak!

kenma slowly opened his eyes. the dim rays of the sun were slowly peeking through his bedroom window as he stretched and rolled around his bed, wrapping himself up in a blanket burrito as he felt his eyes slowly fluttering close once again.

it had been atleast a week since he's actually gotten sleep, and now he's just trying to relish in the feeling of rest before he completely disregards it again.

all of a sudden, his phone rang.

"what the.." he mumbled with a groan

it was currently five in the morning, and he knew kuroo was smart enough not to call him. especially since kenma would usually just be gaming or would just straight up ignore him.

"hello?" he muttered to the phone, not bothering to check the ID

"good morning!" y/n's chirpy la-di-da voice resonated from the phone

immediately, kenma groaned and rolled his eyes. he had to fight the urge of hanging up the phone then and there.

"what do you want? and why are you calling me so early in the morning?" kenma asked

"now, now! don't be so stingy kenma-kun!" she laughed "i just wanted to check up on ya, that's all" she said, followed by soft humming of a melody

kenma blinked as he groggily listened to her words. "oh. okay.."

"thanks for that, i guess.." he said

"aww! your voice is all deep and gravelly in the morning! very hot." she chirped

kenma sighed. he could practically sense the stupid flirty smile appearing on her face. "and you sound oh so happy. as always." kenma chirped back sarcastically

a small smile grazed his lips as she started laughing on the other line.

"oh, kenma! you're so funny!" she chuckled "when have i ever been happy?"

"wait what-"

"anyways, kenma-kun.." she trailed off, her cheerful tone now dropped as an eerily serious and guarded one replaced it.

"y-yes?" kenma gulped

"im afraid im in a tight spot as we speak. its quite critical. please come to the location i will send you." she spoke in a monotonous tone

"huh? wait!" kenma exclaimed. he sat up on his bed, subconsciously reaching for his nekoma jacket which was messily laid out on the foot of his bed. "what are you talking about?" he asked, his hands were shaking, as well as his voice.

"its a crisis! only you can help!" she said

"okay. i-i'll be there.."

humming under her breath, y/n patiently waited for kenma to arrive. she didn't have so much faith at first, but once she heard the soft thumping of feet on the ground, she grinned.

"w-what happened?" kenma asked through ragged breaths as he skidded to a halt infront of her "a-and what are you wearing?" kenma asked

he took notice of her rather formal attire, laying underneath the sand colored coat she had. his brows then shot up as he calmed his ragged breathing.

"is this because of your weird detective work thing? did you get trapped?" kenma asked worriedly. when she didn't answer, he simply panicked even more. "why did you call me?! you should've called those other detective people!" kenma exclaimed

"i got in myself" she admitted with a small innocent smile

"what?" kenma deadpanned, now starting to regret running atleast eight blocks just to help her

"well, you see.. i heard there's a way to commit suicide by getting stuck in an oil drum. so i decided to give it a shot" she said with the same innocent smile. she then chuckled sheepishly as she started sinking deeper into the oil drum.

"but now that i've wedged myself in this deep, i can't get out on my own" she said

kenma simply stared her down, looking unamused, tired and annoyed. "i see." he says

"i think i might die" she pouted as she sank deeper into the drum.

kenma grunted and sat on the ground, sitting a few feet from the drum she was stuck in. he was kind of impressed on how her whole body hadn't snapped in two yet.

"well, isn't that what you wanted?" kenma said with a huff of annoyance

"i like suicide" she said with a scoff, sounding somewhat offended "but i don't like suffering and pain! why would i?"

"i see" kenma said with a sigh. he sat up from the ground and narrowed his eyes, trying to look for a way to free her from the oil drum

"also, i learned this only after i stuffed myself in here, but it wasn't even a suicide method!" she laughed

"but, it was actually a torture method from the-"

before she could even finish her sentence, she was cut off as kenma pushed the oil drum over, sending her and the drum rolling off. he let out a huge breath of air as he cradled his aching hands.

"ni-nice job, kenma-kun" she squeaked out as she wiggled free of the drum. "but now.. we have only an hour left before school starts" she said as she patted down her clothes and combed her fingers through her hair

"and i heard from nekomata-san that he has some news that you boys would surely love" she said as she stretched her aching muscles

"are we really gonna move past the fact that you wedged yourself in an oil drum!?" kenma exclaimed in aggravation

". . ." she looked at him with a dumb smile before sending him a wink and a thumbs up.

"yep! we sure are!"

"i hate you so much" kenma muttered

she smirked teasingly and loomed over his shoulder "hehehe~ well if you hate me so much, then why go through all the trouble to help me?" she cooed

kenma scoffed and flicked her away. "because we're.." he trailed off "nevermind.." a small blush covered his cheeks faintly, but it was enough to get her attention.

she chuckled lowly and poked his cheeks. she narrowed her eyes and tauntingly stared him down. "oya? what's this, kenma-kun? do you like me or something?~" she teased

kenma flinched and covered his cheeks with his hands "no! no i don't!" he quickly denied "i just thought that.." he muttered quietly

"since we're friends and all.. i thought it'd be right to help you.." kenma admitted bashfully

stunned from his words, she couldn't really do anything but stare at him blankly with widened eyes. "we're friends?" she asked

kenma spluttered at her response, suddenly feeling anxious and embarrassed, thinking that he overstepped their 'relationship'

"um- i mean.. i just thought that since we've been hanging out but.." kenma said nervously. he fiddled with his hands as he looked down at his feet, too embarrassed to look her in the eyes.

"sorry, i guess i overstepped. sorry for misreading things" he apologised

finally realising what she's done, she gasped in horror as she looked at his heartbroken expression "oh my gosh." she muttered "im so sorry!"

she frantically patted his back, and stroked his hair "i-i meant like- i didnt know you considered me as a friend!" she exclaimed "i kind of thought you just see me as a suicidal leech or something!" she shrieked

"im sorry kenma! kill me now!" she exclaimed dramatically

kenma finally looked up to see her tearing some of her bandages off, only for her to tie it tightly around her neck.

"im sorry!" she cried as she squeezed tightly, trying to strangle herself to death

"wait! don't do that!" kenma said in panic. his hands pried the bandages off and hastily threw them away.

"you don't have to kill yourself over me" kenma sighed

she sniffled and crushed him in her arms "kenma! you are most certainly my most treasured friend!" she cried

"i would die for you and with you!"

"let's not go too far" kenma said with a small smile

"shall we start with the double suicide now?" she asks, fully ignoring his interjection

"no <3"

"fukurodani?" she muttered, looking quite confused and clueless

"yes. it seems a three-day practice match has been scheduled" nekomata said with a smile "their coach suggested the idea and who was i to decline, am i right?" nekomata chuckled

"this will be a good opportunity for the team to train and explore new ways of playing for future tournaments." nekomata then looked at y/n and sent her a close eyed smile. "and a chance for you to test your managing skills, y/n-san" he said

she nodded in agreement.

"well then, now that that's settled.. you’re free to go! rest up and eat well! you'll be playing nonstop starting tomorrow" nekomata said as he ushered them out of the gym

"thanks, coach!" the team yelled

as the team arrives by the gate, they started to disperse. fukunaga, inouka, teshiro, and shibayama ended up declining the offer of an afterschool hangout. they claimed they needed the rest for upcoming games, so they left them be.

"bye guys! bye y/n-senpai! see you tomorrow!!" inouka yelled from across the street. the energetic first year was waving both his arms around while shibayama drags him along. fukunaga sends them a quick nod and a small wave before they completely disappear from sight.

"hm, so what do you guys wanna do?" kai asks with a smile

"let's eat!" lev suggested with a grin

"sure. where should we go? i don't really have a particular craving right now" kai said as he looked at his friends expectantly

"we should eat at the diner near that convenience store" yaku says "it's cheap and they serve great food"

simply humming to herself, y/n takes a quick look at the boys who seemed to be lost in their own conversations. her (e/c) colored eyes then landed on kenma, who seemed to busy with his game.

kuroo was holding on his bag, making sure the pudding-head wouldn't walk into oncoming traffic. she smiled at the boy, taking in his overwhelmingly beautiful features.

yamamoto was beside her, ranting about his friends from karasuno and their 'goddess of a manager'

"we’re here!" lev unnecessarily announced as he skipped into the said diner. "what should we eat?" he asks

"fish-" ; "meat-"

yaku and kuroo freeze and look at each other. their eyes silently roam one another as they look at the other with judgment.

"hah? are we really doing this again, yakkun?" kuroo scowled. the taller bedheaded male leaned down to get all up in yaku's face, while the latter simply did the same

"dont call me that stupid nickname, bedhead!" yaku scowled as well "and fish? pssh, what are you a grandpa?" yaku said with a snicker

"could you stop making comments proving you lack docosahexaenoic acid?" kuroo sneered in aggravation

"you're ought to eat more fish to fix that.. maybe even your height problem!" kuroo taunted

yaku scowled and gripped the taller boy's collar "your stupid face is begging to be hit!"

"no! kuroo-san, don't let him hit you!" lev yelled "he's feral!"

"oi! shut up!" taketora hissed as he covered lev's mouth with his hand

yaku turned to face lev, evidently irked and angered by his comment. "hah?! come here, you tall lampost! -"

"wah! yaku-san i didnt even do anything!" lev exclaimed with teary eyes as the shorter boy continued to kick him

kai and taketora then took initiative to calm their friends down. partially because they didn't want anyone injured. but mostly because they were fighting infront of the diner, and it was starting to get embarrassing.

"ke-n-ma~" she cooed in a sing song tone

kenma sighed and quickly glanced at her, before averting his attention back to his game "what?" he said

she smiled and laced their arms together. she then pointed to a bridge not so far away from where they were standing. "you see that bridge?" she asked "and the pretty river under it?"

"oh god. i see where this is going." kenma groaned. he turned off his game and followed her finger, eyeing the bridge she was talking about.

"wouldn't it be so nice if we just jump off-"

"how about we don't do that?" kenma cut her off with a sigh

"but you're my friend right?" she whined childishly "don't friends die together?!"

"how about we don't die at all. doesn't that sound better?" kenma tried to convince her with a sheepish smile

her smile fell as she narrowed his eyes, seemingly disgusted and offended by his statement.

"what? no, not at all."

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