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#will it be too short? too long? too boring? too much quotations? not enough quotations? we just don't know
moogle-mafia · 1 year
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*me, talking to myself, covered in blood and viscera, staring at an opened word document*
it doesn't have to be perfect. it just has to be done. you're a baby academic. that's your first time at a conference. how about you think of it as a road trip to Kraków and maybe then you'll calm down
anne of xiety, despite the fact I'm basically done after 2.5 hours and i just have to edit out some of the repetitions: this paper sucks lol
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hopeforkitten · 4 months
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thanks to my head, which thought what if the devils were molting. (if we consider the skin of the cambions, then they have scales)
• you lived in the house of hope for a long time and seemed to know all its features. although, you probably should never say that you know everything about devils.
you returned from the balcony in the archive and did not expect to see an incubus here. Haarlep was sitting with his legs over the armrest and reading a book with an extremely bored look, flipping through the pages with one claw. how could this personification of feline nature leave the cozy bed of the boudoir? And why?
"Oh, Haarlep, why are you here?"
"Hello little mouse! Well, I'm obviously not here of my own free will." he was very inspired by your voice. "Perhaps you will find the answer to this question in my former place of residence." his eyes took on their usual cunning gleam, causing you to distrust.
"And what am I going to find there?..."
"Oh, you haven't seen him in his period yet" he let go of the book and made a gesture of quotation marks "Go, go, I'm impatient to find out how everything will go" he waved his hand towards the doors and you headed the same way.
Along the way, you wondered what could be the reason for Raphael's unexpected mood. Anyway, you haven't done anything wrong, so why should you be afraid of his anger, right?
The boudoir barrier let you through, and from afar you saw Raphael sitting with his back to you and fidgeting erratically. His housecoat was held on his hips by a belt, and his upper body was naked. He diligently moved his wings, even tried to scratch their hard edge against the horns, as well as scratch his shoulders with his hands and tried unsuccessfully to reach the base of the wings.
"maybe I can help?"
You said hesitantly. Raphael didn't even notice how you walked from the entrance to the edge of the bed. He looked at you briefly with displeasure.
"and this is you. go ahead and try it."
He turned back and waited for your actions. you swallowed and hesitantly stroked the base of your wings.
"No mouse, use your claws," Raphael barked back at you.
you started scratching the shoulder blade of the wings with your short nails and it did real magic to him. He let out a sigh of relief and tilted his head back a little. such a reaction was more than enough to make you do it for hours.
• This was just the beginning of Raphael's molt. the symptoms are a bad mood and scabies. while the various stages of his molting were going on, he always lingered on the first one - denial. He hated this time. Raphael was too sensitive and imperfect during this period. Everything should always be perfect in it, both appearance and endurance. But this rare period spoils all his plans.
during the molt, he canceled all his business and did not leave the house of hope. without you, he used to wait it out alone in the boudoir, moving around in short forays from there. it is better not to catch his eye at this moment.
However, with you.... he won't say it, but molting with you has become a pleasant vacation. To you, he grumbles nonstop, like a very big moody child. but your presence changed everything... you scratch his back and wings, smear him with moisturizer, (gently stroke his shiny new scales and admire his beauty? yes, please) sit by the pool while he soaks and only his head sticks out of the water.
you will timidly help him with the removal of dead skin, asking if it hurts him. (imagine how much work his wings need)
• You also became the devil's personal pillow during this period. He just won't let you go a step away from him, with the rare exception when you need to leave the boudoir and bring him something. it's better not to linger chatting with Haarlep, it can cost you dearly.
since his diabolical work was suspended, he switched from contracts to fiction and read it in tandem with you.
He was going into cat mode. Today, practically the archdevil wants to spend the day in bed, and you pathetic little man will be my pillow and a scratcher and bring me a book or soothing tea and I'll eat your soul if you disobey, yes.
• Raphael is horrified to realize that he has been scratching the skin surrounding the horns several times a day. this means that after the back and wings, the skin on the face will be renewed... Oh, how he doesn't like it. the mouse does not stare at him, you are on thin ice and now he will obviously spend more time using you as a pillow so that you cannot stare at him
• it will be strange when this ends and the former strict and perfect Raphael returns to you, and he will never bring up this topic. however, before the next molt, he will send you an order to come to the boudoir and it's good that you already know how to help him.
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skye707 · 1 year
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When it comes to an ideal partner, or just based on what they like in someone, what are the Riddlers’s ‘types’?
I'm gonna start this by saying that, if anyone really wanted to, they could bag any Riddler. As long as you give them smooches and call them smart, they are literal putty in your hands.
That said, I'll take a stab at this one and, as always, just my own personal headcanons
Unburied - Someone bigger than him. He likes to be held and snuggled like a lap dog. Someone who has high standards on hygiene. Y'all can have facial routines together. Generally, someone who is very sure of themselves. He respects that in people.
ZY - Let's be honest, he doesn't know what he wants. If you asked him point-blank, he'd say someone sexy that does everything he says. In reality, he'd probably be happier with someone who knows how to hold their ground and push back. He'd never admit it, but he likes to have his will challenged. Complete subservience is boring.
Dano - As long as you will be kind and snuggle with him, he doesn't care about much else. Not to be rude, but his standards are a little low when it comes to receiving affection...If you're genuinely willing to give and are able to tear down his emotional walls, he's willing to receive.
YJ - Why am I getting this idea that he likes people who are sweet and gentle at first glance but have that innate ability to flip a switch in their brains and become a badass? Like, when he first meets them, he's taken in by their kindness. Then, they go off on someone being mean to him, and he's just like "oh no...I'm in trouble". Instantly smitten.
Gotham - Cuteness. If you are cute and short(er than him [not difficult to achieve]) and a good listener, he is head over heels in a matter of minutes. Bonus points if you laugh at his science jokes, puns, riddles, etc.
BTAA - I think what he looks for is someone witty and funny enough to compete with his 'mental sparring', as they say. One of those people that have a bit of knowledge on a variety of subjects, so his strange references, dead language quotations, and generally colorful attitude is not lost on you. Wouldn't hurt if you had a good sense of style either. He's wants to be the sexiest couple at the grocery store.
Arkham - The first thing he looks for in other people is the strength of their will. Sure, he automatically expects you to be intelligent, but just as important is your ability to forge through difficult situations (i.e., his temper tantrums). If he is going to work with someone long term, he needs to know they have the guts to stick around for the long run.
BTAS - Someone who is polite, well-mannered, but not afraid to be a little adventurous. He wants his life's story to be a thrilling Fred Astaire film, and his co-star needs to be ready to play their role to perfection. There's going to be dancing, singing, riddles, and daring, so buckle up or move aside because he's wasted enough time living a monotonous life.
Telltale - This one was a little difficult, I'm not going to lie. He's been alone so long, he's stopped even looking for the possibility of companionship. But, if I'm going to take a guess, I'd say he's impressed by quiet intelligence. Yeah, all Riddlers look for intelligence, but the kind of intelligence that he can tell has been snuffed for too long? That intrigues him, and what a fun puzzle it will be to refine it for all the world to see.
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chubbyreaderwriter · 4 years
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Hands Off
Steve Rogers x Chubby/Plus Size Reader
Prompt: could i request one with steve rogers where tony stark comments on your body and flirts with you to no end but you’re dating steve and he gets all jealous and protective of you 🥺👉🏻👈🏻💖
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: swearing
Masterlist 
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Being in a relationship with someone as perfect as Steve, you knew that there was going to be times where the familiar green eyed monster would rear it’s ugly head but you had been foolish to assume you would be the one struggling with jealousy in your relationship. You were a very attractive woman, despite how you saw yourself, a lot of guys wished they could take Steve’s place at your side. One of those men being a certain genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, or better known as Tony Stark. 
The man was either completely unaware of your relationship status or he just didn’t care. The flirting had started small, mere compliments that would be normal to give to a friend or coworker without it being weird. He would say something nice about your hair or your outfit or your work and move on with his day. Sometimes you thought you were at fault for ‘encouraging’ him, all you did was thank him but maybe that was enough for Tony to think you were interested in something more. 
The flirting got worse over time, more crude and sexual but you still didn’t really think it was a big problem. This was Tony Stark, surely he does this to every living woman that walks near him. You’d tried to bring up the fact you have a boyfriend but Tony didn’t believe you, “Come on (Y/N), you expect me to believe the hundred year old virgin bagged a chick as hot as you?” You wouldn’t do much but roll your eyes at him and continue working. You worked in the tower as Bruce’s assistant, which meant you were constantly distracted and annoyed by the persistent womanizer of the building. 
You had told Steve about Tony’s flirting but it just so happened that Tony’s and Steve’s schedules always had them far away from each other so Steve never had an opportunity to confront his teammate about this issue. Steve had laughed when you told him, thinking it was just classic Tony sass, not realising that the man had no idea you two were together. While Steve pretended it was fine, he couldn’t help but let himself get distracted during missions, wondering if Tony was hitting on you that very moment and there was nothing he could do to stop it. But he was being ridiculous right? Tony wouldn’t go for his girl, would he? 
You were stood looking down at your desk, analyzing some results sheets for an experiment you were collaborating with Bruce on. It had been a pretty dull and tedious day up until the lab doors opened and in walked the last person you wanted to see today. Tony caught sight of you before you had time to find a place to hide to avoid him. He strolled over to your station, “Hey beautiful, I did come looking for the jolly green giant but instead I found something much sexier to look at.” It was now a force of habit to roll your eyes at anything that came out of Tony’s mouth. Scoffing, you replied, “Oh please, when are you going to learn that I’m not interested.” 
Tony grinned but moved away to give you space, “Yes yes, you have a boyfriend,” he used his fingers to mimic quotation marks as he said the word ‘boyfriend’, still stuck on his theory that you were still single and available. You sighed in annoyance but perked up when Bruce walked through the lab doors, Tony always backed off a little when Bruce was around, thank god. Tony swung his arms by his side, “Say, why don’t you bring him to the party tonight. If he’s a no go, I know that’s you telling me you’re finally giving into my charms.” Bruce walked closer so Tony leaned in to whisper, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t wear any underwear.” He turned and walked over to Bruce too fast to be able to see the disgusted look on your face. 
How could he be so delusional to think that you were interested in him. The only man you had eyes for was Steve and no one else was going to change that. You had arrived home later that night in a huff, you really didn’t want to go to that party but you definitely didn’t want to give Tony the wrong impression and make things ten times worse for yourself. Steve seemed to sense your frustration the moment you walked through the door and walked out from his seat in the living room to pull you into his arms as you stood in the hallway. You let out a sigh as you wrapped your arms around Steve’s back. 
“Hard day at work, doll?” Just hearing Steve’s voice was enough to calm you down. You mumbled a noise of agreement as best you could with your face smushed against Steve’s chest. He laid his head on top of yours, “Is there anything I can do to help?” You pulled away to look up at Steve, “Will you go to a party with me so Tony will stop flirting with me?” You didn’t see the way Steve’s jaw clenched when you said Tony’s name, “Of course I will doll.” You smiled as you headed to your bedroom to find a dress you wanted to wear tonight. In the scenario you played out in your head, it took a lot more convincing to get Steve to be your date. Steve was more a sit at home and read a good book kind of guy most nights, only really going to events if he was required to attend or if he was bored. 
Steve watched you rummage through your closet to try and find a nice dress to wear for the party. Even though you didn’t want Tony’s attention, you still wanted to look good for yourself and for Steve. After a few minutes, you found the dress you were looking for and laid it out on the bed to look for a matching pair of heels to go with it. The dress was a long sleeved, off the shoulder maxi dress with a long spit down the left side  that went up to the top of your thigh. It had ruffles along the hem at the top, covering the outline of your chest but making it look even more seductive at the same time. It was a deep burgundy colour and you paired it with some black platform heels. You didn’t wear heels that often, but when you did, you felt sexy and confident. 
Once you were done getting ready for the party, you checked yourself out in the mirror and you couldn’t resist checking yourself out. Steve had his eyes on your from the other side of the room as well, approaching you from behind to wrap his arms around your waist. He placed a soft kiss on your exposed neck, “You look gorgeous, doll. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself all night.” You grinned and bit your lip, turning around in Steve’s arms to face him, placing your arms around his neck, looking him up and down, “I don’t think you’ll be the only one.” Steve always looked good but when he dressed up, it really made you wonder how you managed to convince the Captain American to be yours. 
If you hadn’t already been late to arrive at the party, you were sure you would’ve been tempted to have a quickie before heading out. Unfortunately, just as you leaned in for a kiss, you got a notification from Happy, letting you know that he was outside and Tony sent him to pick you up. You held back a groan, not wanting to concern Steve and walked downstairs with him to get into the black limousine. You sighed, it was clear that Tony didn’t know the meaning of the word subtle. Steve held the door open for you so you could get inside and took the opportunity to glance at your behind as you had to bend over to crawl inside, holding up the bottom of your dress so it didn’t get ruined. It was a short drive to Stark Tower and quiet. You and Steve felt comfortable enough being just in each other’s presence without needing to fill the silence with conversation. You knew each other’s mannerisms to know that you were both excited for the night ahead. You were looking forward to the look on Tony’s face when you rocked up with your boyfriend. 
Once you got inside, Steve gently tapped on your arm, “I’m gonna head over to the men’s room, I’ll be right back okay?” You nodded and walked over to the bar that was next to the elevator, ordering yourself a cocktail and a beer for Steve. It didn’t really matter what you got Steve, he didn’t even get tipsy unless he was given some of Thor’s alcohol from Asgard and it seemed the blonde god wasn’t around tonight to get your boyfriend drunk. Due to your back facing the rest of the room, you weren’t able to see a certain billionaire making his way towards you. Tony smirked as he placed his hands on your hips and pressed himself against you, “I don’t see a date.” At first, you thought Steve had come back from the bathroom but then Tony spoke and you froze. You pushed your elbow back into his stomach to try and force him off of you but he didn’t budge, “Get off me.” You didn’t want to cause a scene but already people were starting to look your way and you felt embarrassed. 
Tony laughed, “Oh come on (Y/N), we both know you want me.” Just as you felt Tony move closer against you, he was suddenly ripped away from you and you heard a crash and a grunt of pain, followed by “Get your hands off my girl!” You quickly turned around to see Steve standing over Tony who was lying on the ground with glass all around him. You looked at Steve and breathed heavily, still processing what happened. Steve looked at you before holding out his hand. You eagerly grabbed it and let yourself be pulled closer to him, being pulled down the hallway to the elevator, indicating that you were leaving already, not that you minded. You said nothing in the elevator, not really knowing what to say. You didn’t really have to say anything when Steve pressed you against the wall and pressed a rough kiss against your lips. You gasped and he took that opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You pulled away to catch your breath, gasping softly. Steve put his hands on your hips, where Tony’s had been moments before, “He shouldn’t have touched you.” 
Steve’s voice was low and deeper than normal, it made you feel tingly and sent a shiver down your spine. You looked him in the eyes, “That’s right, because I’m yours and only yours.” Those words struck something in Steve and he pressed the emergency stop button before picking you up and pressing you hard against the wall, wrapping your legs around his hips. Your hands gripped his hair and the back of his shirt, trying to pull him closer to you as your lips connected a second time. Your hands moved to start to unbutton Steve’s shirt when the elevator started moving once more, “Apologies Miss (Y/L/N) and Captain Rogers, but as it is not an emergency situation, the elevator must be kept available for use.” You groaned and hit your head against the wall, you couldn’t believe you were getting cock blocked by a robot. Steve chuckled against your neck as he set you down, “Guess we’ll have to wait until we get home, doll.” 
. . .
The next morning when you walked into work, you were very worried that you were going to be dragged out onto the street without a job anymore, but that didn’t seem to be the case, your ID badge was still accessing entrance to your work station. When you arrived at the lab, you jumped as you saw Tony sitting on the edge of your desk silently. He looked up at you and raised his hands up, “I surrender, you tried to tell me and I didn’t listen. I apologize, truce?” You glared at him, looking down at his outstretched hand back to his face. You were unsure about this but reached out to shake his hand, “Okay, truce.” As you leaned forward a little, the collar of your lab coat fell and showed the top of a hickey on your neck. Tony grinned to himself, “Didn’t know Captain Underpants doubled as a vampire.” He left and you quickly covered your neck with your hand, rushing over to a mirror to check it out, not realising it was there. You softly bit your lip as you remembered last night and suddenly it didn’t matter anymore. 
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southslates · 3 years
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legally you have to write a zutara miraculous au bc you made the bluetara marichat comparison
i have! i don’t think i ever posted it on tumblr but i wrote a blutara marichat inspired au a while ago. i’ll just drop it under the cut :)
the strength of my convictions / blutara / 2.4K / oneshot: 
“Katara! C’mon. Please, don’t be boring —”
“Shut up,” she says as she dusts herself off and gets out of her brother’s van. Suki bends over from the back as Aang and Toph tussel about the latter’s music taste.
“ Katara. Sokka’s new friend will be there —”
Aang manages to get himself out of Toph’s headlock long enough to bend his neck outwards and smile genially at her, lips quivering as if he wasn’t just in the process of strangulation. The short girl smirks and tugs harder at him but he temporarily ignores her — and he’ll have to pay for that, Katara knows. “You know Zuko! He’s really nice and new and he’s —”
“He’s Fire Nation, isn’t he?” She raises an eyebrow and Aang rubs his hand against his neck sheepishly before getting pulled back into the car. Sokka grabs her hand as she turns around. “I know who Zuko is and I don’t want to go meet him, Sokka.”
Suki’s painted lips quirk up a little bit as she tilts her head pleadingly. “Come on. He’s a great guy and you told me that you were going to start expanding your horizons —”
“Suki!” Katara hastily gestures to Aang, who luckily is fighting over the radio dials and too busy to hear those words. The martial artist rolls her eyes playfully and reaches over to tug at her. She pulls away and crosses her arms. “I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine. My dating life is fine. And I’m not going to date your new Fire Nation friend.”
“Just meet him, please? And you can’t tell me the fact that he’s Fire Nation is throwing you off —”
“No it’s just . . . I’ve met him. He spilled coffee on me last week when you guys were checking out the hospital’s structure and he always dresses in all black. He looks like he screams trouble and I don’t want to get involved in that even if you all are fine with throwing yourselves to the wolves —”
“So, what? You’re going to sleep at nine on a Friday and just —”
“I have an early shift tomorrow and you know it, Sokka! Someone here has to be responsible. And my dating life is fine,” she addresses her best girlfriend. “Seriously, don’t sweat it. I’m cool for right now. I’m happy with my early nights.”
She knows that there’s probably a strange lilt to her tone but Toph’s won the war and her cacophonous noises mask it, and the dark and dry night hides the small flush of her cheeks. Sokka sighs once more before releasing her arm and letting her go into the night; she reaches down to hug Suki before tossing her bag over her shoulder and giving Aang and Toph a small wave that they both ignore. The van speeds off as she stands in front of her apartment, her face contented.
/
“Who are you texting?” she says as she places her backpack on her couch and slides down onto it as well. “Wait, how’d you get in?”
“You shouldn’t leave your window unlocked, sweetheart, a criminal might come in,” she can tell that he’s smirking as his wooden mask brushes her face. She moves the bottom part of it up and warm lips touch her forehead. “And I’m just canceling plans I forgot I made with a few friends.”
“Sneaky,” she laughs as he falls into place next to her. “I’m glad that I don’t have to account for more terrible lawbreakers coming here.”
“You’re happy with this one?” he asks teasingly as he pulls her closer to him.
“Yeah,” she looks up into the mask’s terrifying visage — it should be worrisome that she doesn’t know what lies beneath it but she trusts the Blue Spirit implicitly. She has for the past several months. Her lips curve up and then she buries her face into his warm black outfit, his smoky and spicy scent comforting. “Yeah, I am.”
He moves his arm around her and grabs the remote; she takes it from his hand and starts clicking through Netflix, selecting a cooking show to watch after a moment. As they watch contestants line up he breathes into her ear. “You left your front window open too, you know. I heard you come in. That was your brother, wasn’t it?”
“And Suki, and Toph and Aang,” she hums, pulling the mask up a little to bare his lips to her, tracing them with her fingers before widening both corners until he’s faux-smiling. He chuckles through his teeth.
“They wanted you to go somewhere with them?”
“Yeah, to meet one of their new friends or something,” she says dismissively “I’d rather be here, though.”
His voice shudders. “Do you not like the . . . person?”
“No,” she shakes her head. “Zuko . . . I haven’t interacted with him very much but I’m really certain that Suki, at least, wants to set me up with him.”
She waits for a moment and then his voice croaks. “Oh.”
Katara threads her fingers through the hand he has around her waist and stares at some kid chopping asparagus. “I said no, of course. I’ve got you.”
“Katara . . .” he says hesitantly, “you know that I know I can’t ask you for this much, right? It doesn’t really make sense for you to . . . I’m a bad guy . . .”
“It’s in quotations,” she replies slowly. “I like you just the way you are with all of your heroics.”
“I can’t ask you for that, though. You don’t even know my real name —”
“Blue,” she looks up into the sheer panel around his eyes, pulling the mask down a little so she knows that she’s truly making eye contact with him. “You like me, right?”
His breath catches for a second before he does something like stutter. “Y—yeah, of course. I like you a lot, Katara. I think I like you — the most, out of all the things I like —”
“Then we’re fine,” she winks at him, crushing his fingers, long and pale as they are. She draws his hand into her lap and starts rubbing her fingers on his wrist. The skin there is clear and smooth. “And they say I’m boring.”
“You like sleeping at nine at night, I’ve heard,” he says ruefully, and she’d like to think he’s raising one of his eyebrows.
“I definitely do. I’m a model child, definitely. I sleep on time and then go to work —”
“And you don’t associate with criminals,” he abruptly stops. “I’m winking, right now. You can’t tell,” he grows quiet for a moment as the judges on the television deliberate over their dishes. “I should tell you who I am, Katara. You should — I like you. You should know.”
“You’re not getting out of it forever, definitely,” she winks exaggeratedly at him. “But I don’t think you’re comfortable with it right now and I want you to be okay with it.”
“I don’t deserve you,” he lets out a breath and moves himself over so that his chin is resting on her head. His voice sounds small and she smiles secretively.
“You deserve everything,” she pronounces, turning in his grasp to tap at where she thinks his nose is. “Let’s order food. I’m hungry.”
“I can cook.”
“I haven’t gone shopping for groceries in, like, a week,” she admits as she gets up, running her hand over his hair as she goes to grab her phone.
“Katara! Not cooking?” He asks mockingly. “Are you alright?”
“I’m busy,” she sticks out a tongue at him from where he’s turned around and facing her. “And you fill up my spare time, you creaky spirit. All my friends really think I’m a basket case,” she admits before perking up. “Pizza?”
“Yeah, of course — and Katara? You’re not boring at all —”
“What toppings?”
“You know. But you’re not a basket case —”
She plugs one of her ears to rattle off their order — a large spinach and olive and pepperoni pizza — into the phone. He quiets down as she finishes and then reaches for her hands as she wanders back. “You know they’re probably kidding, right? They’re just concerned about you. I mean — they don’t know about me. They have no idea how you’re spending your time. Not that they should know everything you’re doing or anything like that, that doesn’t make much sense either, but they’re just concerned . . . Katara?”
“I’m fine.”
He reaches a hand up and warmth cushions her face and wipes away her tears — she sniffles. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
She just nods and shoves her face into his chest. He holds her with one arm and angles his mask up a little again, shifting it to the left to ensure that it covers his scar before pressing his lips to her cheek. She tastes salty. “You’re not boring.”
“I mean, what do I do besides be with you and work? Watch Netflix?”
“That’s what everyone does. You’re not missing out on — I do wish I could take you out in public,” he sighs, and she snickers.
“I can just imagine us going for a picnic in the park and everyone just staring . . . that would be hilarious, wouldn’t it?” He doesn’t think it’s quite that funny at first but after a second he considers the implications and starts chuckling as well.
“Yeah, we would make quite a pair. The doctor and the criminal.”
“Sort-of-criminal.”
“I’m a criminal.”
“You have a heart of gold,” she says, her eyes clear again, as she reaches up to press his lips against hers. And now he feels emotional again and like he’s going to cry — he’s lucky she can’t see a tear leak out of his damaged eye. That’s going to be a hard one to bring up eventually anyway, even if she hasn’t yet brought up Zuko’s. But at least she doesn’t completely hate him. He feels so dishonest. “Now let’s shush. I want to finish this episode. I think the girl in the flower apron should’ve won that round. At least she hasn’t been disqualified yet.”
Katara curls her feet up into him, clothed in large fuzzy socks, and he smiles as he gathers her up into his lap.
/
She’s already asleep by the time the pizza guy comes knocking at the door, and he lets her down gently as the person outside slams it harder. Zuko makes quick work of his mask and grabs his wallet from his back pocket, grabbing a twenty-dollar bill and thrusting it at whoever’s outside before grabbing the warm dinner and stealing it back in. He’s just tightened the last string on the blue visor when Katara flops and turns around, her eyes opening slowly.
“Time to get up, sleepy,” he teases, walking over to her kitchen and sliding out two plates. She wanders over to the bathroom to wash her hands before they dig in, and ostensibly also to wash her face and remove the lethargy marking her features. When she’s back and he’s cleaned himself as well he sits with his mask up a bit and places a piece on both of their plates. With another yawn she takes a smacking bite. He reaches out and smooths out a portion of her hair before digging in himself.
“It’s good,” she moans around it, and he hides his smile behind his own bite.
“You should sleep after this, too. When did you wake up today?”
“Four or five,” she mutters. “But I napped in the shuttle.”
“Yes, for barely an hour,” he reprimands. “Sleep time for you.”
“You woke up early too.”
“I work a nine-to-five, sweetheart. I’m much luckier than you.”
“Just like Sokka,” she groans. “You crazy engineers.”
“We’re very sane,” he notes as he reaches for the chili peppers. She shudders as he spills them across his slice.
“Nobody who enjoys that much spice can be sane.”
“You want some?” he smiles and hands out the nearly empty packet to her. He’s gotten slowly better at matching his voice and mouth to his expressions, but it’s hard to be fully candid without his eyes. She shirks away immediately before seeming to reconsider.
“One bite. I’m living on the edge today.”
“Every day,” he reminds her and sprinkles some over her slice. One second later and she’s running over to the trash can and spitting the bite out. “You really have no tolerance, do you?”
“I have tolerance. I can eat really salty and bitter stuff but spice — ugh, no,” she shudders, eyes lighting up. “I should make you try sea prunes!”
“Yeah, I’m good,” he notes but she’s already reaching for her phone and heading to her grocery list app.
“I’m adding them right now. You’ll come over on Sunday, right?”
He tilts his head and stares at her expression through the mesh, so unbearably happy in this moment. “Where else would I be?”
“Good point,” she declares. Then she finishes the rest of her slice, eating around the reddened area, before grabbing another and shoving it into her mouth. He matches her pace and by the time they’re on their thirds they’re both full.
“Dishes on me,” he grabs them and Katara brightens at him before sliding the box into her empty fridge. She stares at him rinsing their two plates for a second before he sets them aside, pouting when he reaches down to rinse his hands.
“I should sleep.”
“You really should,” he notes, turning away only for her to ram her way into his arms. “You’re going to do lots of intelligent-people things tomorrow.”
“Boring things.”
“Never,” he reiterates, slowly shuffling away until they’re in the middle of her living room. She’s almost pressed to the wall and her cheeks are flushed. He leans down with his pizza breath and kisses her on the lips; she returns the favor to his cheek before flattening down off her tiptoes.
“I probably won’t be home tomorrow,” she pulls his mask down and he nods.
“Okay. I’ll come over on Sunday. Does any particular wine go good with your stew?”
“No wine will be involved,” she points her finger into his chest. “It’ll just be the two of us. And a good time. I’m going to miss you.”
“Me too. I like you,” he traces the contours of her face and she blushes, running her hand over the mask and the skin right below it — the right side, luckily.
“I like you, too. Now go, you spirit.”
At that he moves over to her window and slides it open a little before stepping out onto the fire escape below. She turns off the lights before he hits the bottom, but he can see her figure outlined in the dull glow of the moon, sending him off.
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hanawrites404 · 3 years
Text
Wynne's Diary - Journey With Asra
(@sweetalnazar HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETHEART)
"Gosh.......how long is it?" I groaned and threw my hands hysterically.
"Just a few miles more, Honey. We are almost there" The whitehead held the map of the city in front of him and steered the paper around to find the right direction of the path. We were touring, since today was the day Asra wasn't being too cautious about my health and neither did I need to dispute against him for not ever bringing me to one of his journeys. But who told me that it was going to be this boring and exhausting?!!
We were walking during midnight on the lonely streets of a hamlet far away from Vesuvia for leisure. We were supposed to reach before evening, but due to some extreme weather, we had to stay back. It was only after five hours the sandstorm had settled down, but when we did reach our destination without any further problems, here we were irrationally strolling just anywhere, Asra being the slowest and worst navigator ever.
"Ugh, are you sure your broken compass is working?" I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms.
"Hey, it's not broken. It's just taking its time. Be patient, will you?" He blew onto the compass to remove the dust and shook it for the needle to gain some movement. He then kept it flat on his palm, but just as I already expected, it didn't work. The pointer fell back dead as before.
"bE pAtIeNt WiLl YoU?" I repeated after him. Asra sighed and kept the compass back into his pocket. He focused on the map instead, trying to find out which road we were on and where would the next milestone be. It had only been twenty-five minutes of us walking from the inn, but because of his sluggish navigation skills, we were sure lagging.
"Ugggh why don't you give me the map instead?" I suggested him.
"Wynne, you have never been in this town before. And the map has branched roads and connected at different spots, which makes it difficult to search for the right route. Give me some time to figure out" he dismissed me. But I didn't take it well as I scoffed and snatched the map from his hands.
"Was twenty-five minutes not enough for you???" I angrily stated with a pout on my lips.
"U-Uhhh....." Asra stammered. He didn't have anything to assert against me, so he just looked down and rubbed his neck. I didn't want to shame him, but damn I loathed his obstinacy and wanted him to just shut up and listen to me for once.
I sighed again and took a look at the map myself. I glanced at the entrance and remembered every turn we took to conform with the illustrations on the map. I noticed the pattern, thanks to the landmarks and me paying attention to the pathways unlike one stupid guy and dragged Asra by his sleeve to show him what I found.
"You see this here?" I pointed at the entry gates. "This is how we came in, after some kilometres, we reached the inn and from here, we went straight down and turned to our left, then we continued on that line at that's when we took a right, walked over that, and again right, and through the roundabout, we made our way to the left, then straight, again straight, and finally, to the right.
So according to me, we should be at least five miles away from the rocky beaches. Also, there must be a brothel somewhere like......" I looked up from the map and scanned around.
"no....no...no........no.....Ah! There" I pointed to our northwest where a grey and tall construction made its place at the corner.
"Oh! I....I never noticed that before" Asra rubbed the back of his head.
"Of course you didn't. If only you had brains like me, we wouldn't have been wandering around in the middle of the night looking like passive thieves!" I pouted again and flicked his forehead, earning a short yelp from him.
I adjusted the scarf around my head and closed the map. I We had figured out the whole passage so I we didn't need it anymore. I handed the map back to Asra and stretched my body for a bit. Seriously, walking continuously for twenty-five minutes may sound like a short interval, but you try it once, you will start feeling like weeping in the middle, especially when you realise that you don't know where you are going and how you are going to make your way back.
And people say that the journey is more beautiful than the destination. Heh, fucking bullshit. Let me hear someone say this when they almost died in the way and I'll fucking slap the morals out of them. I dare you.
"Now then, let's continue on our journey, shall we, My Beloved?" I swear I wasn't being sarcastic. Trust me.
"O-Of course. Sorry for earlier" he apologized timidly. I scowled at him for a moment but let it slip away. It was useless getting furious over him anyway.
"It's alright, at least we know our way now and we aren't lost. That would have been a waste" I snorted and carried forward on our steps, Asra following me shortly.
"Heh...I can't believe our time was saved by an unknown brothel" I kidded.
"Yeah... funny indeed" Asra snickered. I nudged him with my elbow playfully as we walked beside each other, my resentment finally melting away and being replaced with solace and comfort, with him and the starry night.
"So this is how you travel all the time? With no sense of direction and a broken compass??" I mockingly asked him.
"Well, not always. Sometimes I do get lost, not going to lie. But Faust helps me find my track back. Too bad she is not here with me since she wanted to stay back with Ichigo at the inn" I stuffed his hands into his pockets, his bright coat and the black hat he always wears during treks lightly fluttering in the subtle wind.
"And I know this local city well, yet I have no idea why my mind went blank so badly today. I'm sorry for the inconveniences I caused you, Wynne. I wanted you to show you the wonderful places this town has, but I only ended up making it worse for both of us" He held his forehead in his hand, his fingers mushing against his hair.
"Hey" I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "This is not your fault, you have been travelling for hours barely with any rest. I can understand why you suddenly couldn't think of the path. Your mind must have gotten tired too, and there is no one to blame for that. And so, you shouldn't blame yourself too" I comforted him.
"But, I did waste your time. I know how particular you are about time, yet I consumed everything of yours so mindlessly" he shook his head again.
"Oh well, you are right on that" I truthfully agreed. Asra shot his eyes onto me. His expression of disbelief and bafflement.
I raised my eyebrow. "What? You thought I was going to say, no you didn't consume any of my time and then hug you tight and strangle you with kisses? Really, Alnazar??" I cocked. Asra's cheeks flared with ruddy as he looked down at his feet again. My smirk got wider, and I heckled him again.
"Ahhh so you were looking forward to it huh, Asra?? You naughty, wicked boy" I pinched his bronze cheek and laughed. He didn't reply to me and continued shying away and trying to escape from my tease. Looks like I embarrassed him this time. And I don't admit guilt of it as always. It was fun bantering him. But I think I have had too much fun because he was feeling awful, and I cannot just ridicule him anymore. That might just be plain rude, and I didn't want to be an asshole to my only husband.
"Fine, listen to me" I began. "Yes, I agree you did 'consume' my time" I specifically added quotations marks.
"But, you didn't waste it. That's absurd! You would do anything with my time than fritter it. Because.....every minute I spend with you is like magic. I get to learn more, experience more with you. And I discover my interests with you, Dear. You have never wasted my time. And neither did I ever said that to you, but you always assume wrong things and make me worry along with you" I raised my shoulders.
Asra stopped in his tracks, making me imitate him and stop walking too. He turned to face me again, his tanzanite orbs connecting with my golden ones. I peered closely into them, only to find myself in there. There was nothing else in him and that was very odd. Because usually his eyes were the real door to his true emotions and feelings, deeply hidden in like a prize of a maze, so I always stare into them when I want to know what he truly conceals into his deep irises, and I never cared how much time would it need to find them all because it was always worth it.
But.....I saw nothing in them. Just me. Me and my stupid face. Now, why would his eyes show me myself? What did he want to convey?? Was he feeling.....me?? Was he hiding.....me??? Was he............
Looking inside me????
I really had no clue. Asra though being more hospitable and extroverted than I was, always was the one to be more mysterious and secretive than the two of us. Maybe because he had more enigmas than I had?? I guess so. Or maybe he wants to wait for revealing them the right time comes for both of us. But because of never finding such a chance, he ends up being solitary though he never intended to be one.
But who knows. If Asra doesn't open up to me, I would be both courteous and disappointed with his boundaries. Complicated right? But that's how I am. A nasty unsatisfied bitch.
"Look" I held his cheek and stroked him. "If you don't believe me, that's fine. But remember one thing, Alnazar. You are my husband. We are bound together, and I'll never break apart from you, you hear that? And you have never, ever, let my time to waste. Because you are too sweet and cherishing for that, Asra. I adore you, and I'm willing to spend my whole life with you. And I had decided to since the day I yelled at you in the Lazaret for sacrificing your heart"
I sighed bitterly. That Lazaret occurrence had to be one of our bitterest times because we both impaired each other without acknowledging how we both felt at that time. But to be very honest, I never want to forget this. Because I want to remember how we were before and how far we have reached now. And I think that's plausible, and I guess Asra would approve with me on this.
"But back to the topic, you will never be a waste of time, My Love, Never. Mark my words, all this time I have spent roaming around with you and following that cursed compass which never helped had to be one of the stories I would remember and laugh about it every time. And you know why I would laugh at it? Because you were being nuts of course. But also because you were in it" I gently jabbed his nose.
"Every moment with you is like my treasure, Asra. And I don't want to lose it. I want to be greedy about it, and never let you get out of my sight. And I'll stick with you no matter what happens, and whether you like it or not" I tittered.
"I......" He opened his mouth.
"Yes, sweetie?" I tilted my head and innocently yet lovingly peeped at him.
But he ignored me again. He just pulled me closer, grabbed my waist to lift me to his height, and smashed his lips onto mine.
"Mmm!!" My voice became faint and my cloak dropped from my head, but I didn't protest against him and kissed back. My arms snaking around his shoulders and embracing his warm body closer. I was looming over him, and my hands slithered from his shoulders to his cheek, my lips working and pulling onto him.
Asra was a tremendous kisser, by the way. And how do I know? And is that even a question?
Both of our faces were red hot as we pulled back, my lips quivered from incitation and we both were panting away.
"I believe you...." He answered me and roughly kissed me for one last time. I moaned against his lips, wallowing in the pleasure I received from him, my hands curling around his hair and tugging it gently. He then pulled away and hugged me back as he breathed against my neck.
I exhaled with him, enjoying his sweet lips on me. But then I gently patted his shoulder to get his attention.
"hmm?" He replied.
"Hey....take me to the beaches....we came this far now" I told him.
"Ah....sure, Milady. Let's not keep you waiting" he sneered at me, but I was worried, to be honest.
Because I knew very well that it was a sneer of mischief he had on him.
I expected him to keep me down on my feet, but he abruptly let go of my waist and swung me up into his arms to hold me and carry me to the beach like a bride.
"You scared the fucking shit out of me there!" I caught my gust on time. The way I cried out as he took hold of me was the moment I want to shirk so badly. Meanwhile this white fucker was laughing away to glory at me! How fucking dare he?! Ugh I hate him when he does that!
"Tit for tit, sweetheart. I didn't forget the way you pinched my cheek" he winked. Blush swelled around my cheeks and I hid my face in his chest, Asra lightly giggling and resting a small peck on my head.
"Whatever" I muffled.
"Sure, suit yourself" he shrugged.
"Now let's show you the rock beaches" and there he was, holding his beloved wife close to him, never letting her go, never letting her feel alone. Because he was always there for her, and he valued every second with her like golden coins.
And they say, journey is more beautiful than the destination.
Heh, I guess they were right. But to me, both the journey and destination were marvellous when he was around.
And damn, I deserve a fucking slap for disagreeing with such a truth. Honestly.
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nice-kill-tanaka · 3 years
Note
Hi! I read all your x readers and love them! I especially loved the Bakugou x Rough and Tough Crush, I was wondering if you do a part 2 of that one? Where the squad are trying to get the two together.
Of course Nony! Glad you liked my self indulgent work 🥰
—————
🌄Bakugo + Rough And Tough Crush: Part 2🌌
Looking for the whole set? Take Part 1 right here!
Summary: The Bakusquad gets a little sick of watching you and Bakugo pine after each other in your own...special ways. So, it was decided to devise a plan to get you two crazy kids together!!
A/N: Me, internally: First request, don’t mess it up, first request, don’t mess it up, first request, don’t mess it up, first request, don’t mess it up-
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💥Katsuki Bakugo💥
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Let’s start by looking at your end of the pining stick
When Bakugo started treating you differently (like an equal/rival rather than a hurdle to trample on) your own perspective started to shift
You now knew what it was like to be on Boom Boom Boy’s good side. And if you were being honest? It was fun as hell 🔥🔥
Nothing got under your skin very easily, so you took Bakugo’s aggressive taunts and jeers as petty opportunities to take him up on his challenges
What’s better than a free chance to get stronger??? (Mentally, emotionally, and physically)
It wasn’t very long before you began to find Bakugo’s unwavering passion and drive attractive rather than amusing. You wanted to see more of it, to draw it out, to match it
That wild and determined smirk he used past bared teeth when you bested him would really make you feel some type of way 😳
But Y/N is currently a single-brain-celled bastard in this household
My dude, you don’t even misinterpret your feelings. You're just incapable of giving them a label 😭
You just know that you have warm and fuzzy sensations in your stomach whenever Bakugo is being uniquely himself, which you mistook for indigestion on multiple occasions
Y’all are so freaking dumb it actually hurts 😭😭😭
((^^The Bakusquad’s general consensus on you and Bakugo’s mutual pining))
Which brings us to how the Bakusquad decided to go about bringing you hotheaded lovers together
Kirishima casually suggested that they let you two get together on your own, but was out-voted in favor of putting an end to the infinite frustration that came with watching two people crushing on each other and not doing anything about it
Mina and Jiro thought of the first plan:
They’d have a movie night for everyone in the friend group and Mina would conveniently choose a ✨romance✨ movie. The rest on the squad would think of lame excuses to leave in the middle of the film, leaving only you and Bakugo alone (hopefully on the same couch). If things went well, you two would be together by the end of the movie
Their reasoning was that if the concept of romance was introduced at the right time, you’d both feel more inclined to confess your own feelings 
It seemed feasible enough, so the plan was set into motion
As expected, the moment Mina pulled out the Blue-Ray box, Bakugo started to grumble about how corny the film was gonna be
But, Jiro caught a glimpse of you leaning over and muttering something to Bakugo, out of earshot of everyone else
Immediately, Bakugo began to loosen his shoulders, still not happy about the genre, but more complacent. He slouched into the couch and endured it like an adult
During the movie, especially the more romantic moments, the squad constantly stole glances towards you and Bakugo. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to look at
Bakugo, in the same position as the beginning, didn’t seem bored, but like he’d rather be doing anything else at the moment. His eyes were glued to the screen in a judgmental stare, but that he dared not say anything to ruin a certain person’s experience
You, however, looked like you were enjoying the movie! However muted your position might have looked. Though you weren’t enjoying it cause it was good. Oh no, you looked like you wanted to ✨a s c e n d✨ into orbit with laughter every ten seconds
For the sake of letting the rest of the Bakusquad enjoy the romance aspect, you limited your actions to biting your fist whenever something hopelessly cringy happened
Any longer than the halfway point, and you would’ve broken down in a fit of hysterical laughter, roasts, and jeers at the screen
Soon enough, the rest of the group made their excuses to leave the room momentarily, disappointed with their results
But, when they came back, something beautiful had occurred 
“Why the hell is she running back to the apartment?? HE CHEATED ON YOU?? KILL ‘IM??”
“SKSKSKS- Okay, but wtf is her FACE?! Is that supposed to be distress?? Freakin’ ahegao faceass.”
Bakugo was deadpan roasting the movie with an amused smirk. While you were coming after it with the gusto of Monoma coming after 1-A, snorting with every comment Bakugo made
Neither of you had even noticed everyone else come into the room
(Apparently, you had told Bakugo earlier that you two can shit on the movie all you wanted once you were alone)
Alright...not exactly the plan. But, possibly a step in the right direction
Sero and Kaminari thought of the next “plan”
I only put quotations, because it’s hardly thought out enough to call it one
It was literally just locking you and Bakugo in a closet 🤡🤡
Don’t worry Sero and Kaminari, I’ll play Taps at your funerals 🎺🎺🎺
You and Bakugo didn’t even have a genuine conversation in the closet...You were too busy yelling various profanities at your friends
“Dude, it’s really FUCKING HOT in here. Let us out while I’m still feeling nice!!”
“I’ll murder you bastards when we get out of here!!! You better start running now.”
Btw, you both ended up making it out of there on your own
You managed to deck the doorknob hard enough to break it off, giving Bakugo enough leeway to blow the door off its hinges
Bakugo took care of Kaminari, while you caught and hogtied Sero with his own tape 
You gave each other congratulatory fist bumps afterwards 😚
Despite the rest of the Bakusquad miserably failing in their schemes, their setups did help develop you and Bakugo’s relationship. Just not as fast as they hoped
You had become a pair that could laugh and fight together. Being each other’s advocate became a source of pride for you both
You were all set to become a romantic couple 
But, what actually brings you together??
Well, it went something like this:
I’m not too sure of the exact details, but I know that you and Bakugo were having an extra intense training session
Things were starting to get a bit sloppy, as your bodies were getting tired, but your morale was just as strong as ever
It could’ve just been a freak accident, or something neither of you saw coming
But, the point is: Either of you could’ve gotten really hurt, had you not been the tough cookies you are
In your perspective, you were oblivious to the danger that you had been in. And if you did know, you didn’t particularly care. You only saw that the person you cared about most in U.A. could’ve gotten hurt
The idea of that happening, and it being your fault (or, not being able to do anything about it) really rubbed you the wrong way. You were mostly angry at yourself
But, you took it out on Bakugo
Because you were the first aggressor, Bakugo responded with what he knew best: Aggression
Yes, he was absolutely mad at himself for putting you in danger. But, what made the feeling worse, was that you refused to acknowledge that you could’ve been injured as well
Your blatant lack of self-preservation pissed him off. Why couldn’t you care about yourself the way he cared about you?!
On the outside looking in, the fighting was far too intense for any peer of yours to try and break it up
Yelling, cursing, but neither of you put your hands on each other (Like you usually did when you play fought)
Strangely enough, I think that’s how you could tell the situation was serious
Finally, your emotions had reached their climax. All caution had gone to the wind at that point
You weren’t even thinking when you yelled the next thing in Bakugo’s face
“DO YOU THINK I’D FUCKING YELL AT YOU IF YOU DIDN’T MEAN THE GODDAMN WORLD TO ME?!”
“WELL FUCK YOU IF YOU THINK THAT YOU’RE ANY LESS IMPORTANT TO ME THAN I AM TO YOU.”
At that moment, you both turned away to storm off before abruptly stopping in your tracks
“What?!” You said in unison, registering what you both had heard and said
You sighed, frustrated at your own stupidity, unclenching your fists and begrudgingly explaining your true feelings to the seething object of your affections
As you spoke, you were realizing just how whipped you were for Bakugo. And how you didn’t know it until you were given the opportunity to blurt it out with pure emotion
Your words weren’t very poetic (You actually sounded very constipated), but what you said was what you felt in its rawest form
Bakugo could hardly think of what to do next. His crush was reciprocated and they confessed first??? Wtf???
His silence made you uncomfortable, and you didn’t feel like blowing up again. You huffed, shoved your hands in your pockets, and turned to stalk away, unsure of what to do next
Before you could completely turn on your heel though, you felt yourself being roughly shoved against a nearby wall
You weren’t even given time to react, because as soon as your back made contact with the wall, a warm, caramel-scented sensation met your lips
The kiss you had just registered didn’t even last two seconds, but the lingering feeling stuck with you as your brain effectively shorted out
“Yo, wh-what was that??”
Bakugo was impossibly red, one hand still on your shoulder, keeping you in place. Even though he refused to make eye contact with you, it was clear that what he had just done was completely intentional
He scoffed, voice barely above a grumble, “Damn dumbass...you didn’t even give me a chance to respond...”
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[🌌 There you go bud! That’s one set of headcanons for the road. Hopefully it lasts for a while, but if it doesn’t, feel free to come back! I’d be thrilled to see you again.🌄] —Reagan
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stevesnailbat · 4 years
Text
fear of the (un)known | steve harrington
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chapter three : fix you
summary: Grace, or 007 as she had been called, finally escaped Hawkins Lab after seventeen long years. But, freedom is a lot harder than she thought it would be to maintain.
warnings: blood, angst
word count: 1.8K
a/n: this is the first time i’m writing grace as using her powers!! the quotation all in italics marks someone’s thoughts and that’s how i’m going to do it for the rest of it too :) i mention my fav childhood book in this and just found out that it was from the seventies today—eric carle was my fav author as a kid. again, GIF IS NOT MINE!! it’s from google!
read the rest HERE!
Being in the cabin was nothing short of interesting, there was always something new happening. El and Grace grew close very quickly, they made up for lost time in a day or two. Grace felt at home almost immediately, the pressure to use her powers lifted off her shoulders as time went on. For the first time in her life, she felt like she might be something more than just a weapon.
Things were all around on the up-and-up for the first week or so of staying there, since Hopper took a few extra days off of work. He wanted her to acclimate to the place nicely without feeling like going crazy, which she had done so far. That was, until the day the El wanted to go to Mike’s. Hopper had to go into the station for the first time in a while and El was trying to convince him to take her to the Wheeler’s beforehand. Grace listened to the two bicker from the her bedroom, but knew that El would win the fight.
“You can go over there as long as it’s not just you and him, okay? If I hear that it was just you two alone in that basement, you’re not allowed over there anymore and you’re grounded!” Hopper threatened as he threw on his jacket, Grace just knew El was rolling her eyes at him at this point.
There was a knock on the door of Grace’s new bedroom, and she hummed in assurance for them to come in. It was Hop, wearing his uniform and a concerned frown. She furrowed her brow as she looked at him, but soon a sinking realization settled in her gut—she’d be alone for the first time since she found salvation in the cabin.
“Hey, kid. Uh—I’m about to head to the station for a bit and El wants to go to Mike’s for a little bit, are you alright to stay here? Alone?” he asked in a soft, almost intimidated voice.
The softness of his voice was ironic, considering she was half his size, but fitting for the situation. He didn’t know how she’d react to being on her own for the first time and he, in good conscience, couldn’t leave without peace of mind that she’d keep it together.
“Yeah—Yeah! I should be fine here for a few hours.” she said, smiling over at him reassuringly.
“Alright, kid, just making sure. My number is taped onto the wall next to the phone and there’s those TV dinners in the freezer. Take the foil off of them before you put them in—“ he started, noting the amused smile on her face while he cut himself off, remembering she wasn’t a child. “Just—Just call me if you need anything, alright?”
She agreed and said goodbye to the two of them, feeling odd as soon as they left. Soon enough, she was finding something to do to busy herself. There were plenty of things that she had wanted to do for so long, like listen to music and watch TV, things she had only heard about in passing. So, she started by listening to the radio in the background while getting to know the house a little better. After becoming bored with the radio, she tried the TV. Sure, she had watched some Miami Vice reruns with El and Hop, but she wanted to find something new. She searched and searched for something to fixate on for more than ten minutes, but there was nothing.
At this point, Grace was downright bored. She looked all around the house to find something, anything to do to occupy herself. After some searching, a pile of books on the kitchen table caught her eye. She was intrigued, to say the least, especially after remembering El reading one of them just that morning. So, Grace picked one up and flipped to some random page.
Realization hit her all at once when she looked down at the page and her heart sunk. In her years at the lab, she was trained to speak English, Spanish and Russian. She was the most eloquent experiment that Hawkins Lab had, and they were damn proud of it. Grace could manipulate people’s thoughts into whatever language she needed, she could tell people what she wanted without even speaking. But in all of those years stuck in those confinements, she didn’t learn how to fucking read more than a few basic words.
Grace could remember the first—and last—time she saw a book at the lab like it was yesterday. She was only eight years old and saw a colorful book in one of the testing rooms, they had left it in there after one of the other kids had left. She could remember crying and screaming when they tore it away from her, she just wanted to see it. But, Brenner pushed on, making her start whatever testing they were doing that day. They soon gave up, realizing that she was relentless and wouldn’t do anything unless she got to see the book.
There was one experimenter that worked under Brenner, her name was Susan, and she was the only person Grace had an ounce of trust for in that place. She could remember sitting with Susan that day and could nearly hear her voice reading the book to her as she replayed the memory in her mind. The book was A Very Hungry Caterpillar, she would never forget it. Grace envied that stupid caterpillar that turned into a butterfly when she was a kid, and at seventeen—almost eighteen—years old she still did. She wanted to fly away from everything, forget about the past and let go of Hawkins Lab forever, but she knew that wasn’t possible.
The thing about powers is that they’re not always super. In Grace’s case, it seemed like they were never super. She felt like the villain all the time, like she could never use her powers for good. Brenner had trained her to have a desire to use them all the time, to feel a need to use her powers on anyone that crossed her path. As much as she hated it, she could never make the impulse go away. She had fought the feeling off for a little over a week now, so it was getting difficult to control. The only problem was that now that she was alone, she felt like she couldn’t do anything about the impulse.
When there wasn’t anyone around to read, her mind would seem to eat itself away. She had tried to distract herself with anything that she could, but she’d ran out of ideas after picking up the unreadable book. She started to replay memory after memory from her own life, trying to satiate the need to use her power. It wasn’t working like she thought it would, she had never had this problem in the lab there was always someone around that she could read there.
She had no idea how long she had sat at the kitchen table with that stupid book clutched in her fingers, honestly. The concept of time for her was useless in the moment, since each memory seemed to last longer than the last one. She was in such a daze that she didn’t even hear the front door when it creaked open at 9 p.m., when El slipped into the house with Steve in tow. Hop had called him and ordered him to check on the place when he dropped El off for the night.
Grace could hear someone talking next to her, but couldn’t understand what they were saying. Her nose was dripping blood and had pooled onto the table beneath her chin, she was in an exhausted daze and hadn’t even noticed. She would’ve never guessed that her powers could be so self-destructive, but here she was, feeling like her trauma was eating her alive.
The only thing to bring her back to reality was when a hand touched hers, sending shockwaves through her body. She didn’t want to, but she was sent into their thoughts. Her eyes snapped towards Steve as his hand reached for hers to get her attention, and was immediately pulled into his mind. He was scared, terrified almost. He couldn’t tell that she was in his thoughts, but he knew she was lost in something.
“What the hell is going on? I thought she could read people’s minds, what was she doing?” he thought. “Okay, don’t panic—just stay calm. El will freak out if I do and I don’t want her to call Hop. Just think—don’t panic, even though this shit is crazy. Wait, why is she looking at me like that? She looks so tired—why does she look so beautiful still—no, stop—“
She eventually pulled herself out out his mind and felt like she the wind had been knocked out of her when she came back. Her head nearly dropped from exhaustion when she came to, but Steve was there to catch her, paper towel in hand to wipe the blood, before it did. El watched from afar, terrified of what was happening because she knew exactly what Grace had done to herself.
“You alright?” he asked, lifting her chin to wipe the blood as she shook her head weakly. “What happened?”
“Can’t—Can’t read.” she whimpered, looking up at him through lidded eyes, seeing the concern spread across his face.
He only furrowed his brow at her words, knowing that she didn’t even know what she was saying at this point. Steve pried the book that was still in her grip from her fingers then slipped his arm underneath hers, picking her up to carry her into her bedroom. Grace went willingly, no energy left in her to fight or explain what actually happened. She was limp in his arms and exhaustion was taking over quickly, eyes fighting to stay open for a little longer.
“Want to read.” she whispered as he put her into the bed, wiping any of the excess blood from her nose. “Want to learn.”
“We’ll teach you how to read, okay? You gotta sleep right now, though. We’ll fix this all soon, we’ll fix you and make you better.” Steve said, a bittersweet smile on his lips as she nodded lazily, cuddling into the sheets as sleep began to take over.
“Beautiful.” she hummed, dozing off as she spoke “Like the butterfly.”
The last thing she could remember was Steve’s thoughts, when he called her so beautiful specifically. It reminded her of the book Susan read to her when she was in that testing room nearly ten years before, when the caterpillar turned into a beautiful butterfly. She felt better, felt like there was hope as she drifted away. Steve and El watched her for a few moments after she fell asleep, making sure she stayed asleep and didn’t wake up and freak out. But she seemed content, and already looked much better than she did when they first walked into the house.
tags: @sourapplebaby @harringtown @hystericalmedicine @charmed-asylum @queenofthehairharrington @a-magey @lemonypink @daddystevee @karasong @heart-eye-harrington @batbatsupermanme @used-avocado @letscici @igotmadskills @jxnehxpper
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blazerina · 4 years
Text
Linger (Ethan x MC)
Open Heart // Ethan Ramsey x Allie Valentine (MC)
author’s note: this is kind of sad – not sure where it came from but it made me get a li’l emo at the end…sorry I can’t write fluff anymore…I don’t know what’s wrong with me! this story is inspired by a dear girl  @parkerattano who is always inspiring me!!
word count: 3084
summary: ethan struggles within himself to figure out his true feelings for allie (MC).
--
Ethan was angry. His normally brisk pace was even faster today as he made his rounds and checked on his patients. He felt how stiff he was holding his own neck and shoulders when he bent down to get a drink of water from the fountain next to the nurses’ station.  He knew their desk was the “gossip hub” of Edenbrook and today was no different. The chattering. The whispering. The laughing. Everything had him on edge. Even the orderlies and interns seemed to be cackling about something. He was pretty sure he knew what it was.  He had to get out of there.
Instead of eating on his lunch break, he decided to go for a quick run. He had a favorite path through the park, about a block from the hospital, that he followed countless times before. It was always his “go to” lunchtime activity when he felt extra tense, or too stressed to eat a decent meal.  
He opted out of using his ear buds this time.  He wanted to clear his head without a distraction. That seemed to be his problem lately – he was too distracted.  He was longing for the days when all he had to worry about was himself; when he could focus on his patients and his work while he was at the hospital, and then go home or do whatever he pleased in his free time. It felt like forever since he had the freedom to just be. All his spare time, every waking moment, his head and his mind were filled with thoughts of her.
Ethan’s muscles knew the way having run that trail so many times before, it was as if his body’s memory took over, leading him around every bend and up and down every hill. The energy built up inside of him made him feel like he could run it five times over. He wanted to keep going…and going…and going.
Regrettably, lately he even noticed that he was slipping when it came to his patients. He had missed obvious details in a case a few days ago.  That never happens.  Not to Doctor Ethan Ramsey.  This really could only be explained by his intense focus on one fact - he never expected her to be so cold.
When he told her that what they had was in the past and they had to be professional now, he thought it would be easier than this. He expected her to pout or sulk, maybe look for excuses to see him or manufacture moments that would ensure subtle and secret exchanges with each other, but she always remained steadfast.
It was as if as soon as the word professional was uttered, Allie was shut down and turned off. The Allie he knew and had fallen in love with, ceased to exist.  She was a damn good doctor and still relied on him to be her mentor and guide, especially now that she was working with him on his team, but something was different. The look in her eye was distant, she steadied herself and steeled herself in a way that surprised him more than he cared to admit.
There were moments he wanted to linger, especially when they found themselves alone with each other, but just as he had asked, she kept it professional.  And that’s what it would take for both of them to continue to be successful. This is what proper and honorable medical professionals did – they put everyone else first and resolved within themselves to make sacrifices on behalf of the greater good.
As Ethan slowed up his jog, returning to the hospital, he was more out of breath than normal.  He checked his own pulse and realized it was much higher than he was used to on one of these more simple runs. Rolling his eyes, he was still frustrated with himself, especially as he remembered the newest buzz he’d been hearing all morning from the gossip mill.  With a heavy sigh, he moved quickly to the locker room and showered. His plan was to hunker down in his office the rest of the afternoon and hope he wouldn’t be bothered.
--
It wasn’t long before a quick knock on his office door, disturbed him from his thoughts. He had read and re-read the same line in the medical journal he was studying, at least 4 times.  
“Come in.” He barked, more forceful than he intended.
“Ethan – there you are – hiding in here again today?” Naveen beamed, appearing in the doorway as bubbly as ever, reminding Ethan of a male version of the fairy godmother in Cinderella.
Naveen’s voice sing-songed like a nursery rhyme and he seemed extra cheery for some reason. Ethan suspected he had also heard the rumors, but didn’t feel emotionally capable of handling a deep, honest, raw conversation with his mentor and friend today.
“Cut the crap, Naveen. What do you want?” He snarled, opening a drawer and pulling out his glasses. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh, before putting them on.
Naveen’s brow furrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest and studied his protégé. Looking over his shoulder to ensure Ethan’s office door was closed, he moved closer to his desk and looked down his nose at him, waiting in silence for Ethan to speak again.
“Look – I know I’m being short and you’re going to lecture me, but can we do this some other time? Frankly, I’m not in the mood.”
“There are days I’m not in the mood either, but I don’t go around treating everyone like second-class citizens.” Naveen chided.
“Are you going to tell me what the problem is?” He sighed and settled into one of the dark leather lounge chairs facing Ethan’s desk.
Ethan rolled his eyes and removed his glasses after letting the journal fall to his desk with a loud smack.
“Don’t you have more important work to do? You’ve gone and left me high and dry to deal with this “situation…” Ethan made quotation marks in the air, “on my own, so I’ll just take it from here.”
He huffed, clearly agitated, but looking Naveen in the eye.
Remaining calm and completely unphased by Ethan’s theatrics, Naveen replied, “Excuse me. I left you high and dry you say? Ethan, need I remind you that YOU are the one who left for two months, completely unannounced and unexplained.  So, who exactly left who?”
Ethan was not expecting him to push back with such logic. Defiantly, he pushed himself away from his desk and stood up.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. This has been a well thought through plan that you’ve been watching unfold right before your eyes, even as far back as the hospital bed I kept you alive on in quarantine, months ago.”
“You and Dr. Valentine kept me alive, just want to correct you there.” Naveen chuckled, pointing out the one person, or situation, that Ethan did not want to discuss.
“Dammit Naveen, I said not now. I don’t have time for this.” Ethan walked towards the large glass window that overlooked the park where he ran a few hours earlier. He wished he was still there.
“Ethan…” Naveen, cleared his throat, “If I may…”
“You may not.”
Ignoring Ethan, Naveen kept going.
“For someone who relies so heavily on the facts of any given situation to lead you to the truth, you are making an awful lot of assumptions.”
Ethan fixed his gaze outside, not wanting Naveen to see any hint of emotion or feeling. He couldn’t let the man know he might be right.
A silence settled over the two men, hanging in the air that now felt pretty thick between them.
Quietly, Naveen offered, “With Harper this was never an issue. Why does this professional situation appear to be causing so much strife now?”
Ethan closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. Snapshots of Allie flashed in his mind. He didn’t have a good answer. Words failed him at trying to explain this “situation” to anybody.
“It’s different and you know it.” He grumbled, turning away from the window to face his friend.
“She…she has made her choice. I wasn’t so sure, but now it’s clear to me.” Ethan explained. “Everyone’s been talking about it all damn day, Naveen.  Haven’t you heard? She’s found someone else.”
--
Later that evening, Ethan was absentmindedly scrolling through shows on his television while nursing a beer.  Dejectedly, he sat on the couch, totally bored and disgusted with his current state. It wasn’t like him to recoil into himself like this. To sulk in his home and be full of self-pity. He hated what he had become. What she had done to him. What he had done to himself.
Smeone rapped on his front door loudly and suddenly, pulling Ethan from his thoughts, causing him to jump.
“Christ!” He cursed as he realized some beer had gotten onto his shirt. He glanced at the clock.
“11:17? What the hell?” Not bothering to look through the peephole, assuming it was a drunk college student at the wrong apartment AGAIN, he opened the door ready to give the person on the other side a very heated dressing-down.
He swung open the door and had to do a double take, not believing that Allie was actually the one in front of him.
“Are you insane?” He blurted out.
“Good to see you too. Can I come in? We need to talk.”
“Clearly.” Ethan held the door open wide enough for her to get by and then slammed it shut.
Allie whirled around with an angry look in her eye, referencing the way he banged the door closed.
“I didn’t mean for that to…be so hard…I just…” He sighed, already exasperated from the emotional ups and downs of his day.
“Look, I won’t drag this out or anything, but I need to know if this is what you want.”
Ethan was still reeling from all the beer he consumed, believing that Allie was actually in his living room, and also the fact that she was talking to him, not at the hospital, about what appeared to be…their relationship.
“Sorry – I’m not sure I follow…?”
“This.” Allie gestured to the large space between the two of them. “Did you spill something on your shirt?”
“I did.” He nodded. “Go on, Dr. Valentine.”
He crossed his arms over his chest to one, cover up the stain and two, show her he wouldn’t be intimidated. But why did he do that? Why did he bristle every time she was around? Why did he force himself to act like a pompous, arrogant, jackass whenever she challenged him? This wasn’t the way it had always been. Back to Naveen’s point earlier: what was different?
“Are you pleased, Dr. Ramsey? With this arrangement? Have I been professional enough for you?” Allie used air quotes when she said the word professional.
“I suppose I’d say I’m satisfied with how things are progressing, professionally,” Ethan emphasized, “however, it’s only been a few weeks so I don’t know that I can give a full review of my thoughts on the matter entirely.”
“Ethan.” Allie squared up to him and faced him head on, also crossing her arms over her chest.
“You know what I mean. Quit playing games.”
He swallowed hard. He knew that there were very few people in his life who cared about him enough to call him on his BS. Allie was one of them.
Relaxing a little bit, Ethan walked to the kitchen and Allie tentatively followed him.  Sitting down on a stool near the bar, Ethan reached into a cabinet for some glasses and offered her some water.
“No thanks, I won’t be here long.”
Ethan poured some bottled, sparkling water into a glass with some ice and took a sip. He leaned back against the counter and asked, “What are you doing here, Allie? What is it that you’re wanting…really?”
“I’m wanting to know if this is how it’s going to be.”
“How what’s going to be?”
“You’re gonna make me say it aren’t you?” She asked, a mixture of shock and sadness falling on her face.
“You are impossible.” Allie muttered under her breath before sighing and slapping her hands on her thighs.
“US – Ethan! I’m talking about US.  You and me. Is this how you want it? The professional thing. Me saying yes sir and you giving me the cold shoulder and US pretending that there never was an US.”
He wanted to speak. He wanted to say something but he had no idea what would come out if he opened his mouth so he didn’t. He kept quiet and let her continue.
“I don’t understand why you’re making this so difficult.” She stood up.
“I never should have come. I’ve been trying so hard to do the right thing, to be the good doctor who doesn’t let her feelings get in the way of anything…” Allie started moving towards the door when Ethan finally spoke.
“I heard about you and Bryce. Today. At the hospital. You have someone else now, someone better suited for you, someone who can give you the attention, the care, the relationship you want and deserve.”
Allie stopped in her tracks.
“There is no me and Bryce…” She turned around to face him. “At least not…yet and I don’t really know if that even really is a thing or not but I had to talk to you because I don’t…I can’t…”
“Move on.” Ethan finished the sentence for her, but his words sounded more like an instruction.
“Move on, Allie. It’s for the best.”
“Just like that?” She questioned, tears beginning to form in her eyes. “You can cut it all off that easily? Did it…did I really not mean that much to you?”
“This isn’t about me.” Ethan started, feeling himself about to ramble.
What a lie he was spinning. Everything was about him. The way he responded to Naveen. The way he treated the few people in his life he was closest to. His anger. All his emotion. The jogging. The isolating. This was all about him and he knew it. His choices had gotten him into this mess. There was only one clear way out.
“I want this to be about you and what’s best for you and your future.  You need to do your best to put whatever it is about us that you focus on…behind you…”
“I just want you to admit that it’s hard.” The emotion in Allie’s eyes and voice was enough to drive Ethan to his knees.
“After all we shared together and how vulnerable we’ve been with one another, why can’t you just admit that it’s not that simple? It’s not that easy to just walk away?” She questioned.
“I don’t know why. But I can’t. I can’t give in to my emotions on a whim. I must stay calculated and measured and have some semblance of order to my life, Allie.  I cannot live in chaos.”
Ethan paced a few times in the quiet as Allie studied him, letting out a sigh or two of her own.  He settled on the couch and grabbed the remote, about to turn the volume up on the television.
“You’re welcome to stay if you’d like…but I don’t have a lot more to say on this subject.”
His jaw tightened, every muscle in his face clenched. Ethan was afraid with one more word he’d let the dam inside him burst wide open and there’d be no going back. He had to think about her. He had to put her first for once, and not be selfish. As hard as it was, he had to willingly push her into someone else’s arms.
“I’ve always trusted you, you know.” Allie said, sitting down next to him on the couch.
“Allie…” Ethan tried to interrupt her, whining a little and giving away his agitation with her. He did not want to hear her appeal.
“I trust you now, too. And if you really, truly think that me trying to move on…with Bryce…” she paused, watching his face for a reaction.
“…is what I should do…then I’ll do it. I’ll move on.  And I’ll make you proud of me and we’ll be part of the best damn diagnostics team in the country. I trust you that much. I’ve always looked to you for guidance and direction. This is no different.”
A strange peace settled over Ethan. He didn’t like and couldn’t even entertain the thought of Allie being with Bryce, but it was better than her still hurting or being sad about him. He could handle never getting over their relationship; but he couldn’t handle it if she still held on.  
This morning he had been wishing for her to not be so cold. He wanted her to want him again. Here she was in front of him, letting those walls down and he couldn’t do it. Maybe he missed the secret. Maybe he wanted something that was just for the two of them. Hand brushes here and there; looks across the table only meant for one another. The thrill of sneaking out of her apartment before her roommates got up…
It was all those things and more. He didn’t miss the game completely although he had to admit it was fun. More fun with her than anything ever was with Harper…but really, when it all came down to it, he just missed her.
“I think that’s a wise decision.” He sat up a little straighter and looked into her eyes. “Go for it. You deserve to be happy.”
Allie nodded, accepting his wisdom while biting her lip and looking at the floor.
“You said I could stay…” she offered moving closer to him.  She put her head on his shoulder and reached for his hand.
Allie placed Ethan’s arm around her shoulder and looked up at him. “I just want this…one more time.”
Ethan closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, taking in the feeling of her next to him. The smell of her shampoo mixed with her makeup. Her dark red hair resting beneath his stubbled chin. Her hazel eyes sparkling and looking up at him as if he had given her the world, when all he’d really done is crush it.
He tightened his grip around her and thought to himself:
I just want this too.
But couldn’t bring himself to say it.
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normiewrites · 4 years
Text
To celebrate the last Friday the 13th of the decade, I decided to write a small fanfic in honour of the nightmare before christmas, one of my favourite films. 
This is also my first time writing for Dazai, so I hope y’all like it!
I suggest hearing the song before reading
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ouAt_5UO83s
P.S - this will be my last post till my winter break
Let’s find out (The Nightmare Before Christmas AU) - Dazai x (g/n)Reader 
The wind nipped at your skin, but it didn’t feel cold or warm, in short it didn’t feel like anything. You could never feel anything, being something constructed in a lab. You wished to know how the petals of the dragon lilies felt under your hands as you traced your hand across the stem, making sure not to get bitten by it, and how the glistening soil felt against your knees as you knelt in the garden. In the distance, you could hear the Halloween parade fading out, the annual celebration which was all that anyone in the town ever lived for. No matter how much you loved the gore and fanatics, you longed for something more, something that was different. Or rather, someone who was different.
You sighed softly, knowing that in a matter of minutes Doctor Finklestein would call you back to the lab to lock you up and labour for him, and despite feeling nothing you shivered at imagining how much he would scold you for ruining your knee stitches with the soil. Alas, you did eventually stop caring over the years, but he made you, so there was always the threat that he could break you. You longingly stared at the forest on your left, the dark trees so close yet so far together, as if hiding something from you. You knew to never go there, it was always mentioned when the Doctor let you out, yet that only fueled your curiosity.
“Y/n!!!!!!”, you heard the crackly and stretched voice from afar, the echoes telling you that it came from the tower, your supposed home.
Just as you were getting up, you heard a faint familiar voice, making you dash behind a nearby bush, the thorns of the toad snippers barely bothering you.
“There are few who'd deny, at what I do I am the best
For my talents are renowned far and wide
When it comes to surprises in the moonlit night
I excel without ever even trying
With the slightest little effort of my ghostlike charms
I have seen grown men give out a shriek
With the wave of my hand, and a well-placed moan
I have swept the very bravest off their feet”
You gasped softly, watching as the man in the bandages and beige coat walked through the garden, plucking a dragon lily and sighing softly as it nipped at his chin. He brown hair danced in the wind as he threw the flower onto the ground, walking towards the hill on the right of the garden. He slowly crept up the hill, hands in his pocket as his head faced down.
“Yet year after year, it's the same routine
And I grow so weary of the sound of screams
And I, Dazai, the Pumpkin King
Have grown so tired of the same old thing”
Your eyes widened in revelation. You had always admired Dazai from afar, scared of weirding him out with your revelations of the town, but you never knew how he truly felt. In some ways, it’s as if you both were the same. You never knew how the King of Halloween could feel so bored with it, but you couldn’t deny you felt the same.
“Oh, somewhere deep inside of these bandages
An emptiness began to grow
There's something out there, far from my home
A longing that I've never known”
Now with the yellow moon behind him as he stood on top of the hill, you could no longer see the way his brown dead eyes glistened in horror. His deep honey voice filled the emptiness of the garden as the wind made the ends of his bandages and coat trail behind him in the wind. He picked up his head, hands out of the pockets as he waved them around, a dramatic in play.
“I'm a master of fright, and a demon of light
And I'll scare you right out of your pants
To a guy in Kentucky, I'm Mister Unlucky
And I'm known throughout England and France”
You restrained yourself from screaming out as he started to walk forward, scared that he would fall, yet the tip of the hill grew and grew, following his every step as he walked down back to the garden, a soft blue essence floating behind him, leaving a ghost like trail. Of course, how could you forget, he was the King of Halloween.
“And since I am dead, I can take off my head
To recite Shakespearean quotations
No animal nor man can scream like I can
With the fury of my recitations”
You watched in awe, like every other citizen of the town would, as Dazai took off his head, holding it in his hand as it stared back at his neck. There was no blood, no pain, just pure magic and the true horrors of the Pumpkin King. He was now at the edge of the forest and you could see the darkness of it sucking him in. He couldn’t resist it either, and it felt odd that something so strange and unfamiliar felt so comforting and attractive. Putting his head back on, he went in, walking through the forest with his head down, his lament ongoing. You didn’t think twice before following him, hiding behind trees and trying your best to avoid the twigs and dry leaves on the ground.
“But who here would ever understand
That the Pumpkin King with the demon grin
Would tire of his crown, if they only understood
He'd give it all up if he only could”
He, who had everything, would give it all up if he could? The man so praised for what he does, would give his crown away? Nobody ever really knew him then, and you never knew that he would be the someone who was different. You would expect it to be one of the mice buskers who lived in the alleyways, not the Pumpkin King.
You both weaved through the forests, the threes getting thicker and lighter as you continued your journey through the barren foreign land. The first signs of the new day painted everything, the orange of the pumpkin sun appearing through the trees.
“Oh, there's an empty place in my heart
That calls out for something unknown
The fame and praise come year after year
Does nothing for these empty tears”
You could feel his longing seeping into your brain, the sadness of his voice snapping you out of the reality of the party town. Dazai stopped at a small opening just as his head whipped up, looking at the trees that circled him. It didn’t look natural, but then again what was natural in this world? What was more odd was the different markings on the doors, and doorknobs? There seemed to be doors on the doors, all leading to somewhere different.
“Oh, what’s all this?” he wondered out loud, looking at each of the five trees.
He first looked at the one before him, the tree marked with a big red heart, then the next, a tree with a green four leaved plant on it. What were these things? There were no pumpkins and skeletons, and such vibrant colours were absent in the town of Halloween. Then he turned around, looking at the other trees, marked with a colourful egg and a type of bird, but the one that caught his attention the most was the tree marked with another green tree, shiny balls and presents decorating it.
“So pretty, it’s the complete opposite of everything here” he whispered, loud enough for you to hear, as he walked towards the tree.
Your grip on the tree that you hid behind tighten, a few splinters entering your cloth like skin as you tried your best not to warn him. You watched with a held breath as he wrapped his hand around the doorknob. He was about to open the door, but he stopped and sighed softly.
“Wanna come along, y/n?”
You stiffened up, hearing your name whispered from his lips. Did he know you were watching him all along? Was he angry? What was he going to do to you now? You kept cussing out in your head, hands clenched into fists as you stepped out into the open, looking down, too embarrassed to meet his gaze.
“Don’t worry, I enjoy having a cute stalker, but I’m tired of the distanced stares. Why not look at me up close and personal instead, darling?” he charmed, smirking softly at you as you looked up into his eyes, cheeks flushed.
You don’t say anything as you walk towards his outstretched hand, biting your lip in anticipation. You felt awful for what you had done, yet your curiosity and longing for something different overpowered those emotions as you curiously looked at the tree shaped door, feeling his arm wrapped around your shoulders. For the first time in forever, you felt a warmth shoot down your body, the feeling unique as you softly leaned into his touch. You could feel his stare on your wondering face and you couldn’t help but stutter.
“W-What is this, D-Dazai?” you asked, mentally slapping yourself for stuttering in front of him.
You could finally see the deadliness of his soft brown eyes, a whole paradox that you wished to explore.
“Let’s find out, y/n” he whispered, opening the door in front of you, a gust of wind and white particles flowing out, accompanied by the darkness of the mysteries that lied beyond.
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ptersparkers · 5 years
Text
mall date
summary: you don’t want to spend time in a mall. neither does tony stark. ergo, you go on an adventure that leads you two to become much closer than you think.
a/n: ahhh i’m so happy you guys liked the young tony fic from my ‘the adventures of y/n stark’ series! here’s more young!tony for you all.
warnings: some swearing.
masterlist / tagslist
The last thing you wanted to do was hang out with your stepmother and stepsister at the mall for the day. Alas, your father had begged you to take them because of external complications (that’s what he called it) and said he’d owe you a huge favor. As if he didn’t owe you multiple ones already. But you loved him despite getting married to the Wicked Witch of the West and her daughter.
It was nearing eleven in the morning when you three entered the space on a Saturday. You weren’t sure why your stepmother, Alexandra, thought it would be a good idea to shop on a weekend when all the high school girls raided the most popular stores and when the boys bought too much cologne. She looked at the younger children in disgust before pulling you both into another high-end store to shop for clothing.
You felt quite out of place. You and your father weren’t the most well-off and how your father married Alexandra, a wealthy woman, was unbeknownst to you. You were convinced she had put a spell on him but as long as you didn’t have to interact with her or your stepsister, Ally, you were happy.
The racks of clothing, you had concluded, could probably pay for your college tuition. The shoes on display weren’t your style and could equally set you for the rest of your life.
The department store was fairly big and you found it easy enough to get lost in the store. Besides, it’s not like either of the two women before you were paying any attention (not that they ever did).
So, you wandered around the aisles, looking aimlessly at articles of clothing out of sheer boredom. It wasn’t until you had found a head poking out of a coat rack that you felt like your day was turning around.
“This is an unusual place to hide,” you commented before gazing at the coats around the person who hid in between the jackets.
“This is an unusual place for a woman to be shopping,” he replied, gazing at the sign that said ‘Men’s Coats.’
“Your point? I can wear what I want,” you said, sliding a hanger to your left to cover his face. He gasped in surprised and lost his footing, which resulted in him trying to grab onto the fabric and pull himself together.
The stranger eventually stepped out from the coats and looked around before straightening himself.
“Touché,” he replied.
“What were you doing in there anyway?” you asked.
“Hiding from my parents. Not really in the ‘shopping’ mood’,” he said while making quotation marks with his fingers. “I was planning on staying in my bedroom all day but they had other plans.”
“Don’t I know it,” you said, rolling your eyes before resuming to look at the jackets. “My father begged me to take my stepmom and stepsister to the mall. And for what?” The stranger chuckled when you angrily slid the hanger, not finding a coat you liked.
“The name’s Tony,” he said, holding his hand out for you to shake. You eyed his hand and raised an eyebrow at him before shaking his hand.
“Y/N,” you replied. “Can’t say that it’s normal for me to meet strangers who hide in coat racks.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I don’t usually meet strangers in a mall.”
“Touche.”
“So, why didn’t you want to bring your, who was it, to the mall?” he asked as you walked through the department store.
“Too picky,” you said as you walked towards the shoes. “I don’t particularly like coming here anyway unless I know what I need and shopping isn’t my definition of a good time.” You pulled a pair of white heels from a rack and held it in front of Tony. “Are these cute?”
Tony shook his head and put them back. “You can do so much better than this store. Trust me when I say these brands are what everyone’s wearing and you, Y/N, don’t look like someone who would be caught dead wearing something other people are wearing.”
You thought for a moment. “Okay, that’s true. I usually go thrift shopping but Ally just had to duck her head in here.”
“Stepsister?” You nodded. “Ah. Siblings are complicated. I can’t imagine step siblings. Well, I can’t imagine siblings at all.”
“You’re an only child?” He nodded. “Well, before Ally came into my life four years ago, so was I. I can’t tell if we don’t get along because I have no people skills or if she just sucks.” Tony laughed and watched as you pulled out blouse to look at.
“She probably just sucks. I mean, we’ve known each other for ten minutes and I already feel like we’re best friends.”
“Who says we aren’t?”
Tony watched as you put the blouse back and crossed your arms in defeat. It was as if, in that moment, a light bulb went on in his head because you saw as his face lit up with a realization.
“How about we get out of here until someone starts looking for us? I highly doubt your stepmom’s gonna be looking for you if she’s shopping and I highly doubt you want to stay here waiting for her,” he proposed.
You didn’t need any more convincing.
“Okay, let’s go before someone notices.”
Tony walked out of the store and you followed suit, not caring which direction you went in. The mall seemed much more packed than when you had walked in thirty minutes ago and blamed it on the young teenage population who felt like they needed to have the latest styles and technology.
“I hate the mall,” he uttered when a group of girls bumped into him without apologizing.
You chuckled. “Me too. I only come here if I want frozen yogurt.”
“The mall is a breeding ground for teenage angst. It’s there teenagers go to die,” he said.
“I think my hopes and dreams were crushed here when my dad refused to let me get my ears pierced when I was nine,” you said as you passed the ‘Claire’s.’ “I don’t really see the appeal of walking around the same place every single weekend.”
Tony looked at you with a smile. “I’m happy to know you hate the mall just as much as I do. Did you know that this is the biggest mall in New York?”
“Huh, I didn’t know that.”
Tony smirked. “This means we have a bigger chance of getting lost and not running into people we don’t want to see.”
You sighed gratefully. “It’s like you read my mind. Sometimes I need a break from my life and forget everyone I know for a couple of hours. I can’t walk into the kitchen without my stepmom needing to know my business.”
“I know the feeling,” Tony said while rolling his eyes. “My old man’s got no time for me and tries to make up for it by forcing his way into my life. It’s cool, I don’t need him, but I don’t think he knows that yet.”
“Well my dad’s a good man but I don’t know why he ever considered marrying Alexandra,” you said. “He’s not the gold digging type because her financials weren’t disclosed until after the marriage. It was when she proposed a prenup did he realize just how rich she really is.”
“Ouch,” Tony said. “Rich people can be the absolute worst.”
“Oh, do you have experience?”
“Let’s just say I have my fair share of opinions and most rich people are the same,” he said. “Do you want a pretzel?”
You looked at the different choices. “You know what, Tony? After the day I’ve had, I’d love a pretzel.”
The soft baked good was in your hands in no time and you linked your arm with Tony’s, peacefully walking in a random direction while happily chewing on the pretzel. There was no rhyme or reason to your outing with a stranger you met thirty minutes ago, but in that short amount of time, you two had brought each other unexpected joy to an otherwise dull and boring shopping trip.
“How old are you anyway?” you asked. Tony took a bite of his pretzel and looked down at you.
“Twenty one. Why do you ask?”
You shrugged. “I dunno, just curious I guess. For all I know, you could be thirty and look really young.”
Tony gave you a look. “And how old are you?”
“Nineteen,” you said without skipping a beat.
“You’re a child,” Tony said before tapping your nose with the pad of his index finger.
You scrunched your nose and Tony thought that was the cutest thing he had ever seen.
“I’m turning twenty next week,” you said, feigning an annoyed expression. “So I’m not a baby.”
“Your birthday’s next week, eh? Well, we should do something special right now.”
“Right now?”
“Of course. You know, just in case I don’t see you next week.”
Neither of you wanted to think about what would happen when you two parted ways and resumed your lives apart from each other. You cleared your throat and threw away the remaining trash from your pretzel with Tony following suit.
“What kinds of things do you like to do, Y/N?”
You put your index finger on your chin as you thought for dramatic effect. “Well, I’m a sucker for photo booths and anything cheesy as long as I get to laugh at myself. Window shopping’s cool too,” you said with a shrug.
“I’m gonna make this day the best damn early birthday you’ve ever had,” Tony declared.
You let out a chuckle. “Okay there, Casanova. First let’s find a photo booth.”
To your luck, you didn’t need to walk very far to find one that wasn’t being occupied. You went to insert a few dollars in the slot, but Tony insisted that he pay for everything today since he probably wouldn’t be seeing you on his special day. You argued at first, but that made Tony want to pay for you even more. You sat inside the dark booth and watched as Tony closed the curtains behind him when he sat down.
“Okay, how does this thing work?” Tony asked as he fumbled with the buttons and red the instructions.
“I think we have to pick our borders first,” you said, looking at the different frames. “Ooh, I like the yellow one!”
“Yellow one it is,” he said with a smile. “Okay, next step is to press the button. Wait, the red one or the green one?”
“Uh,” you said, leaning your chin on Tony’s shoulder to peer at the instructions in front of him. “The green one. The red one’s for cancelling pictures.”
“Aren’t you a smart cookie.”
You leaned back and fanned yourself. “What can I say, Tony?”
“Okay, what poses do you want to do?”
“I know I want to do one where we put our middle fingers up to the camera,” you said. “We have two more pictures, right? Well we can do something cheesy. Like a pinkie promise.”
Tony gave you a look. “What are we, twelve?”
“I’ll be thirteen next week.”
You both laughed.
“Okay, what about pose number three?”
“Surprise me.”
Tony hit the green button and it counted down from five. You both tried your best to look serious in the camera while putting up your middle fingers. The camera flashed and you both scrambled to hold onto each other’s pinkies when the be t flash went off. Completely unaware of what the third photo was, you awkwardly posed when you felt Tony’s lips press against your cheek, leaving you with a surprised expression when the camera flashed for the final time.
You both hopped out of the booth and waited for your pictures to print.
“We look so cute,” you commended while looking at the third photo.
“You don’t look like you want to die,” he said, referring to your surprise in the third photo. You let out a laugh and tucked the photo in your purse.
“I bet you say that to all the other girls.”
“What other girls?”
You smacked Tony’s chest and he linked your arm in his once again. You looked at your watch and saw that you had been gone for nearly an hour and Tony was your bewildered expression, wondering what you’d do next. But to his surprise, you didn’t say anything about the time.
“Tell me about yourself,” Tony said. “What were you like as a kid? I bet you were a cute kid.”
“I was the cutest kid on the playground,” you huffed. “Well, I don’t really know what there is to say. I was a pretty mundane kid growing up like how typical suburban kids do. My mom left my father and I when I was eight and I haven’t heard from her since. But my dad and I managed just fine for a few years until, you know.”
“Suburban, eh? I wouldn’t loved to live in the suburbs.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well,” he began, “I grew up in Long Island but spent a lot of time in Manhattan and New York City for my father’s work. It always felt like I was growing up too fast with a lot of expectations. I never really liked those.”
“Me either,” you replied. “Alexandra, my stepmom, hates that I’m not like her kid. She hates that I love science instead of the arts. She refused to go to any of my tech conventions growing up so so usually has to find my own way to those things.”
“My dad’s kind of the same. I mean, he has all these expectations but isn’t around to see them come to fruition. I think he wants me to be a younger him but that’s not for me.”
“What about your mom?”
Tony smiled. “She’s a gentle woman. Very kind, very soft spoken. Always tried her best to help me on my homework when my father wasn’t around. I don’t think I could ever hate her.”
“Same with my father,” you said. “Why he married...her, I will never understand.”
“Sometimes I feel that way too. Is it wrong to think that about your biological parent?”
You thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. Family doesn’t have a set of rules everyone follows closely. The people you were born with are just human, like the rest of us, and that means they’re going to make mistakes and act on their own free will. That doesn’t mean you have to forgive them either.”
“Damn. Y/N. Are you sure you’re nineteen and not in your wise years?”
You laughed. “I don’t know, Tony. I’ve figured that it’s best to keep people who you want close and everyone else at bay. You have the family you were born in, but you can also choose who you let in.”
“I’m gonna be honest and say that before meeting you, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten as close to someone so quickly.”
“Ditto,” you said, looking up at Tony with a genuine grin.
“You guys are too cute,” a woman commented. “Reminds me of me and my husband.”
“Oh,” you started, “we’re not-”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Tony interrupted. “I’m the luckiest man alive.” You raised an eyebrow as he kissed your temple. He looked down at you and sent a wink your way, which made you blush. 
“Y/N, is that you?” you heard your stepmother ask. 
“Oh, fuck me,” you groaned as you attempted to hide yourself in Tony’s chest. 
“Evil stepmother?” he asked. You nodded silently. 
“We’ve been looking for you for fifteen minutes,” you heard her shout from a fair distance away. 
“Do you trust me?” Tony asked. You looked up at him. 
“I did the second I left that God awful department store with you.”
He smiled and let go of your body to cup your jawline with his hands, leaning in to press your lips onto his. Your eyes fluttered closed when you felt his lips move against yours and he let his thumbs rub soothing circles on your cheek. You gripped the opening of his jacket, desperate to pull him closer and he seemed to feel the same when he let his chest pressed against yours. 
Tony was the one to pull away first and you whimpered quietly at the loss of his touch. You opened your eyes to see him already looking back at you.
“Your lips are soft,” you said before pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more. 
“What was that for?” Tony asked with a grin. 
You shrugged, your grin equally as big. “That was for me.”
Tony kissed you once again. “That was for me too.” 
***
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dillydedalus · 4 years
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september reading
there is literally no way it is september. impossible. anyway this month we have  horror, Fake Dating, the rashomon effect, a time war, and most importantly, no neutrals to be found anywhere
the old man & his sons, heðin brú (tr. from faroese by john f. west) published on the faroe islands in 1940 and the first faroese novel to be translated into english, this is a story about the dramatic shift in life style during the 30s on the faroe islands, from hardscrabble subsistence farming/fishing to market economy. interesting look at changing life on isolated isles, and a much lighter (and shorter) take on the stubborn autonomous subsistence farmer than laxness’s independent people. 3/5
the white shroud, antanas škėma (tr from lithuanian by karla gruodis - english/claudia sinnig - german) a modernist, fragmented, nonlinear novel about a lithuanian poet gone into exile, now working as an elevator operator in a new york hotel, who is involved with a married woman but might also be terminally ill. in between the present timeline, the book flashes back (both in the character’s own writing and in third person) to his youth in lithuania, his torture at the hands of the soviet regime, his time at a DP camp in germany and so on. quite interesting, with some great writing. 3/5
things we lost in the fire, mariana enríquez (tr. from spanish by megan mcdowell) really good collection of horror-ish short stories that also touch on gendered violence, child abuse, poverty and argentinian history (esp. dictatorship and disappearances) - some stories are more overtly horror, with clear supernatural elements, others are more ambiguous. i don’t read (or watch) horror stuff so i’m a bad judge of how scary this is - i found it more gruesome and upsetting than terrifying, but the dread is strong in this one. favourites: adela’s house (hungry haunted house), end of term and the title story (women & self-inflictred violence), under the black water (the poisoned oil-choked river is very bad but maybe.... there’s something worse in there). good, vividly gruesome, sharp sharp sharp. 3.5/5
axiom’s end, lindsay ellis i really like lindsay ellis, of all the ~youtube video essayists~ she’s probably my favourite and this book a) has a cool premise - aliens + conspiracies + alien communication and b) a really cool cover, and it’s lindsay, so i was super excited for this one. and it would be unfair to say i was disappointed with it; it’s a fun first contact romp with really good pacing, cool aliens, on-brand lindsay ellis humour and some interesting ideas on communicating with someone who is truly alien and incomprehensible. it’s fine! i enjoyed it and will definitely read the sequel, it’s just... i was hoping it would be AMAZING, and it just wasn’t. no huge problems (except for a few lines i would have liked to take a red pen to), just.... it was fine. 3.5/5 
zeno’s conscience, italo svevo (tr. from italian by william weaver) imagine you’re a businessman in trieste who does a little unsuccessful writing on the side and one day you decide to take english lessons to improve your business opportunities with the uk and your english teacher is JAMES FUCKING JOYCE who tells you that you need to keep writing. incredible. anyway these are the autobiographical notes of one zeno cosini, a hapless hypochondriac smug self-delusional fool, who just cannot quite quit smoking, marries the one sister out of three he least desires, & works as an accountant (for the man who married his most-desired of said sisters) despite his rather tenuous grasp on bookkeeping. my favourite scene is when his future sister in law (2nd most desired) complains lightly about her difficulties with latin, he tells her that he believes latin is a man’s language and even roman ladies probably didn’t actually speak it, only for her to correct him on a latin quotation. i will say tho that this book is way to long to maintain the endearingness and often drags. 3/5 tfw u write for an audience of one but that one is james joyce so fair enough
der hund/der tunnel/die panne, friedrich dürrenmatt dürrenmatt (in addition to having a cool-ass name) really fucking slaps!  his stuff is really good, and often really really wild. these three stories are all weird & slightly existentially scary, two degrees left of reality, and just. so interesting! we have a man stalking a street preacher and his monstrous dog, a train going through a tunnel for way too long (and it is very scary), and a man becoming involved in a pretend-trial (or is it) and becoming convinced that he actually is a murderer (or is he, really?). anyway, dürrenmatt.... slaps. 4/5
wow, no thank you., samantha irby a mix of memoir and comedy blogpost and social critique blogpost about growing up poor & black, dating while fat, chronic illness, and settling down in rural america. it’s fine. i haven’t read irby’s previous collections so maybe i’m missing that emotional connection, but i thought it was mostly...okay?? not especially funny imo & i prefered the more serious chapters of which there weren’t enough. 2/5
they say in harlan county: an oral history, alessandro portelli really impressive oral history about life in harlan county, appalachia, focusing on the labor strikes and conflicts in the 30s and 40s, but really exploring life and politics in the region from the first non-native settlement there to today. really interesting, sometimes inspiring and often infuriating and probably worth reading if you’ve ever listened to which side are you on. 4/5
rashomon & other stories, ryunosuke akutagawa (tr. from japanese by jay rubin) fun fact: if you read the short story “rashomon” expecting to get the, y’know, rashomon effect, you won’t get it bc the film actually takes its plot from the story  “in a grove”. anyway this is an interesting collection of classic japanese short stories, many of which are actually about unreliable witnesses/narrators. i particularly enjoyed “in a grove” and the truly disturbing “hell screen”, but found this particular collection just a bit too long. 3/5
women without men, shahrnush parsipur (tr. from farsi by kamran talatoff & joceyln sharlet) a magical realist feminist novella about 5 women in iran who all try to liberate themselves from men in one way or another, more or less successfully (one of them turns into a tree, another becomes undead), until they end up in a semi-utopian garden together for a time. disturbing in its depiction oppression and sexual/gendered violence. i don’t really know how i feel about it, but it’s a really unique and interesting reading experience; very fraught and ambivalent in the end. 3.5/5
take a hint, dani brown, talia hibbert i think this is the first actual pure genre-romance book i’ve read... in years??possibly ever? idk. anyway this is mostly a pretty fun & sweet story about ambitious & emotionally constipated phd student dani brown and security guy with tragic past zaf ansari, who begin a fake relationship for Various Reasons (as you do) and both develop Real Feelings (as you do, predictably). it’s mostly really enjoyable but man i’m really not used to Romance writing & it’s a lot. in the end everyone is very genuine & earnest & emotionally honest which.... not to be even more emotionally repressed than dani but i cannot deal with that. anyway given that 2020 truly is the gift that keeps on giving this was a fun fluffy delight & i might  read more from the series. 3.5/5
this is how you lose the time war, amal el-mohtar & max gladstone two agents (red and blue) on opposing sides of a time war (the futuristic techy Agency vs the eco/organic Garden - neither of them is Good or Bad exactly) start writing letters as they hunt each other through the strands of time’s braid and eventually (inevitably) fall in love. really interesting concept of time travel and different timelines (if, like me, you conceptualise past as down and future as up, this will trip you up so much), very lyrical writing that sometimes toes the line to overwritten but mostly really works. 3.5/5
DNF: the madman of freedom square & the iraqi christ, hassan blasim (tr. from arabic by jonathan wright, german tr. by hartmut fähndrich) bindup of these two short story collections about iraq. these are incredibly brutal, depressing & horrifying stories about a country in a constant state of war & struggle. couldn’t bear it, probably not ever & certainly not right now. 
allegro pastell, leif randt (audio) this is brilliant, bitingly funny novel about a millenial couple, tanja & jerome, and their on-and-off long distance relationship. they are privileged (and half-aware of it), attractive, successful, very in touch with their own feelings (couldn’t be me), self-reflective, faintly ironic in everything bc sincerity might be cringe, and you will hate them. these are people who perform their feelings rather than feel them, dissect all their opinions and impulses to the point of both paralysis and narcissism, engage in constant navelgazing and cannot form any relationship that isn’t based in constant evaluation and judgment. they pride themselves on their nonconformity but are really the greatest conformists of all, and the most square, boring, spießig people under the veneer of their urban liberal drug-and-club lifestyle. had so much fun with it even as i was constantly cringing at these people. 4/5
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Vegas Lights - L. Hemmings Chapter 9: Sorry, didn’t know that my official title was ‘wife’ now.
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This book is all of my own work. Please do not copy or steal. This is also posted on my personal Wattpad account @/defensive_sarcasm17.
"What's with your face?" Luke's brows were furrowed as he cast his eyes on the glassy eyes of the blonde woman. Her face was blotched in random spots and she looked no better than she had when he woke up in her room that morning.
He actually found her to look better with no clothes on.
He had spent his time since he left her room sitting at the bar, downing drink after drink. He had even snuck away with one of the waitresses for a moment only to return to find Carter standing like a deer in headlights with her earphones plugged in her oddly small ears.
She didn't have her glasses on, nor did she have a speck of makeup coating her face. Luke couldn't help but wonder if the cosmetics could even cover the tomato colored spots on her face.
He knew his words were rude, but the liquid courage sent his conscience away. Not that he had seen it in a while anyways.
"Excuse me?" She was annoyed. Anybody could tel that. "My face, thank you very much, is in recovery from a panic attack."
Her arms were crossed over her torso, and he shamelessly glanced at the way her breasts rose up.
He wasn't raised to think of women like this, but every time he had alcohol in his stomach he said goodbye to intelligent thought.
"Sorry," he grumbled, returning to his seat at the table a few feet away from Carter.
He looked up expectantly as his behind connected to the wooden stool, surprised that she didn't trail after him like most girls did.
Her eyes met his as he gazed at her with shock. Her brows were still pinched and she frowned at him. "What're you looking at?"
He wondered for a moment if she meant to snap at him, but he brushed it off as a side effect of the panic attack she experienced.
He didn't know much about mental health, and he was rather skeptical of if, himself, but he didn't necessarily care enough about the blonde woman to ask if she was okay.
Instead, he adopted a bored expression. "Aren't you going to sit?" He gestured to the seat across from him. "I figure we need to chat, yknow, man to wife."
"Sorry, I didn't know my official title was 'wife' now," she snapped once again. "What could you possibly have to say to me?"
For some reason, Luke found it hard to get along with the woman. He found her very bitchy, and in the small space of time he spent with her, she hadn't proved to be interesting. Not one bit.
In fact, he can't even understand how he managed to find her enough to marry in a drunken haze. Maybe drunk Luke just really wanted to get her in the sack.
She definitely seems like the 'no sex before marriage' type, he thought to himself.
"Is it wrong for me to want to talk to my wife? Or discuss an agreement with a possible business partner?" He smirked around the neck of his beer. He didn't miss how her eyes seemed to fire up as the words slipped past the confines of his lips.
"Call me that one more time and I will make you regret it," she hissed, begrudgingly taking a seat across from him.
Carter had always been the kind type. If somebody was nice to her, she was even nicer to them. But Luke, Luke was something else.
Every time he opened his mouth, she could hear the condescension fall from his lips. Almost as if he were patronizing her for merely existing.
He reminded her of her grandmother. And her elder sister.
She despised it.
"Look, Karen-"
"Carter," she hissed.
"Look, Carter, I don't know about you, but I don't exactly feel like dragging you around with me for the next six months-"
"The feeling is more than mutual," she fixed a strong glare onto him, and tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of drowning that encompassed her body when she thought of her current situation.
"I doubt that," Luke smirked, blue eyes turned up as if he found the idea genuinely funny. "Who wouldn't want to marry me? I'm a rockstar." He ignited Carter's scoff. He had already discovered how to rile the woman up, and he was growing fond of it. "As I was saying, I don't want to be stuck with you, but, I spoke to the guys and they have a different idea."
Carter felt her stomach sink slightly.
"What do they think?" Her voice was softer, loose of the harsh tone she previously held.
Luke struggled to force the next words out. He hated to be reminded of his wrongdoings. "They think that I need to curb my bullshit. They think I need to allow myself time to 'heal'." He waves his long fingers in the air to signal quotation marks. "Mostly, they want me to stop sleeping with any girl that gives me attention, because it's giving us a bad rap."
Carter couldn't stop the sad feeling that bubbled in her throat. Luke was hurt. She had heard about his overexploited break up with his girlfriend, and she knew that he was, to a degree, out of control.
Binge drinking, assaulting bar staff, sleeping with countless women.
Reminded Carter of what her and Jo were like in their first year of college.
"So, they think that this agreement would be a great way to help shift my public image."
"Why can't you do it on your own?" Carter was genuinely curious. "Why do you feel the need to put yourself, and your band, in such a bad position? Wouldn't you want to set an example for you fans? A breakup can't have affected you that badly-"
"You know nothing about me." His jaw was clenched as the words slipping through clenched teeth. He hissed each syllable, allowing the blonde woman across from him to jump back slightly. "You don't know what happened in my fucking relationship. Who the fuck are you to question me? To question my choices?"
His voice was low. Menacing.
A chill went down Carter's spine and for a second, she felt as if she were a child standing under the harsh gaze of an authoritarian figure.
Luke was ranting, his eyes not meeting hers as he rambled about how little people like to comment on his life choices.
For a second, Carter let her eyes fall shut. This wasn't the first time she had been snapped at in such a way by an individual who believed themself to be above her. Nor will it be the last.
Nor was it the first time she was spoken to in degrading way. She had people she trusted more regard her as less, and she wouldn't let somebody with an ego as large as Luke Hemmings' speak to her like that.
Her eyes reopened. She set her jaw to match his, ignoring his words.
"Okay, I get it." She tried, only for him to continue rambling. She pushed a piece of hair away from her eyes, rolling the blue orbs within their flesh confines. She had enough, as Luke continued to rant, repeating his words as the alcohol overwhelmed him. "Will you shut the fuck up? Please?" She yelled, drawing attention from some of the staff.
The bar area was practically empty, as it was only 11:30 am, on a Saturday.
Luke's rant fell short, his mouth snapping shut at the outburst. He hadn't expected for her to snap at him. He was very used to being the dominant force in every relationship.
Every one apart from his relationship with Alexis.
The way Carter snapped reminded him of the woman, and his hands involuntarily began to shake.
He buried them underneath the table as soon as he felt the tremor.
"I'm sorry for snapping," Carter's for eyes watched him carefully, the guilt forming a glaze over the cerulean. "Look, I'm not pretending to know what you've been through, nor am I trying to tell you how to live your life. I'm trying to understand why you're in this position."
Her voice was soft. Calm. Comforting.
For a second, he was enveloped in the words that fell from her plump lips.
"I don't want to talk about it," Luke grumbled as he connected his hands underneath the table. Even thinking about his clusterfuck of a relationship and the effect it had on him was enough to bring up his desire to drink. Which is the reason he pushed it down so much.
Surprisingly, Carter didn't push him.
She pushed her chair out, placing her bare feet onto the ground. Luke felt relief at the thought of her leaving him alone.
"I'll be in contact with your manager soon," she nodded, turning on her bare heel and stalking away from the man.
Carter was well aware that she was possibly making a bad decision. She knew that it could be more damaging to her career than helpful if things went sour.
But she also knew, that her father raised her to help others out. She couldn't sit by and know that somebody could be damaging their career and drowning in their own depression when she could have helped them.
She couldn't do that to another person.
She had her limits, she knew that this could go wrong.
But more importantly, she knew that Luke, and his friends, needed the help.
She was too absorbed in her thoughts to take the elevator up to her floor. The sound of her feet tapping against the carpeted steps did nothing to fill her determination.
The door to room 304 flew open, and the three women inside turned their heads to their short friend.
Stephanie was the first to speak, growing tired of the silence as Carter stood against the closed wooden door.
"So are we doing this shit or not? I have a schedule to organize for when we get back to L.A."
Carter pushed out a deep breath, attempting to steel her nerves for the coming admission.
"Let's do this."
Josephine clapped, "great. Go shower, you look like you just ran ten laps."
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neiablackwood · 5 years
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The Context
Part 1- A Sea Breeze           
Part 2- The Context
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Neia and Thyal had circled up along the stairwell and were heading through the grassy path of the Mage District. Her destination had been her choosing, but she decided she wasn’t in the mood for leading. Following behind her new found companion, she found his gait to be all too confident, yet, there was an ease to the way his hips moved; a familiarity one could call it, someone comfortable in their own skin.
“So what’s the context?”Neia asked.
Thyal looked over his shoulder, “Hm?” He had been talking the entire time. Some matters of how impressive and quick she was to come up with a story, and so on and so forth.
“Why were those men after you, why choose me out of a number of different people, why choose a girl?”
He snorted, “Truthfully?”
“Truthfully.”
A shrug passed, “Pretty simple. You were there and available. I needed a quick exit and you were the nearest door. I choose right I think.” He paused, before laughing, “But what real danger do I have huh? Its you that is worried. Don’t worry. I really do work for the Stormwind Navy.” He stopped, turned, and saluted. “Thylagorn Moonwind, Seaman of the Ashton.” He relaxed. “I help manage the canon’s and equipment. “
Dubious, Neia stared at him in silence for several long breaths before she managed a small smile. “Why were those men after you?”
“Ah, spiteful little boot lickers.” It was the first frown he had dawned since their meeting. “Revengeful holy wielders. I’m not exactly sure. They’re the same brand that find warlocks and all other dark magic distasteful. However, the guardsman have a tendency to look the other way when an ‘Death Knight,’“ he said with quotation marks, “is being hassled. We feel no pain, need no food or water, the ultimate killing machine.” Thyal sighed, setting hands to hips and shaking his head. With a easily slip of his hand, he pushed back the long streak of purple hair.
“I don’t see how they would abandon their quest to hassle you if I was in the way,” Neia continued as she made her way around him. Thyal picked up his lead and followed a short step behind.
He chuckled. “Well you see—”
“I was a chance,” Neia snickered.  
“Exactly!” He chimed high and loud, loud enough that others turned their attention to them as they came into the open sitting area before the Slaughtered Lamb.
“What if it had gone wrong?”
“Well, then, I suppose I would have had a fight on my hand, wouldn’t I? Not that it would bothersome, I could handle a couple of blue skirts.”
Neia chuckled. “So why me then?”
“Hm?”
“There were other doors much closer.”
“Ah,” he mused softly.
A short greeting came from the tender as they both entered. A table was open off to the side, not too far from the entryway. Neia slide her way over.
“You looked bored.” His answer came cut and dry, no need for explanations or further details.
Neia found herself looking rather dumbfounded once more, which seemed enough encouragement for the elf to keep going.
Which he happily did. “Was that to straightforward? Okay. So, I spotted you practically on the other side. You were the only one looking like they needed a little life brought into their eyes, and I thought, ‘I could do that!’, so I made my way across and sat down next to you.” He smiled ear to ear. “I hope I didn’t make the wrong assumptions.”
Amusingly, Neia shrugged. “As long as you pay me for helping you out, I would say this worked out well.”
“Whatever you want! I don’t use the money for food anyways.”
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vastderp · 6 years
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Okage: Shadow King is such a great little game.
been replaying Okage: Shadow King this past week or two and it’s both better and worse than I remember. worse in that oh my lord they released this game too early and it’s buggy as fuck. better as in HOLY SHIT WHAT A GREAT STORY. 
spoilers obviously.
like the part you play is fairly boilerplate RPG, but shit’s just... weird. the world is tiny, supposedly having been spared from a global catastrophe 300 years ago. roaming monsters all look like something a child would draw, except finished by a professional. There are monster paintings that are just crayon scribbles on a framed canvas. There is a floating anteater hanging from a party balloon. it has a scribbly checkered pattern that is only partly colored in, also with crayon. 
NPCs are not named, they’re “classified” by their roles in the story. every now and then a list comes from the King of all the new “classifications” for the inhabitants of the world, telling them what they are. So they’ll be called stuff like YOUNG MAN WHO BELIEVES IN JUSTICE (and who can never shut up about Justice) and SLEEPY TOWN MANAGER (who was merely drowsy until he got "classified” at which point he couldn’t stay awake anymore to do his job). 
the world is small and simplistic and the people are very limited, to the point of sometimes seeming to be sleepwalking. The NPC who watches over the nonfunctional train station is completely brain-fried, because there is no train and no purpose for him to fulfill but hey somebody needed a stationmaster for the train station scene. who is that guy? who was he before he was given his incredibly vague role? did it erase everything else about him? is that why he doesn’t know if he’s met me before?
half the people you talk to seem like fully realized individuals being mind controlled into playing a role. funny thing, that!
even the villains are just doing what a little voice told them. they got “classified” as an Evil King, and boom! evil powers! now the Hero has to go fight them! your character’s family are assholes who have sold your soul to the evil Shadow King (stan for short) in exchange for Stan reversing a pig latin curse on your older sister.
this matters because if your sister is forced to speak in pig latin, she will be “classified” (quotation marks are always around that word per game styling) as a comic relief girl and it will ruin her marriage prospects. we’re told “classifications” matter a lot in this world, as you will see for yourself later. something as simple as being “classified” as a different fictional character trope can and will result in your life and your actual personality changing to match it. It’s played for laughs, but imagine if you were a STRESSED-OUT SOPHOMORE and you went on a bad weekend pub crawl and got “classified” as a STUMBLING DRUNKARD three days from final exams.
anyway, your character has no “classification”. he’s so forgettable it just never happened, i guess? which makes him a perfect vessel for a power-drained demon king that needs to parasitize a person’s shadow to live. so, there you go. your job is to beat up the demons that stole Stan’s power, get him back to his full strength, and then... i dunno, watch your swordswoman companion and newly separated Stan fight to the death, probably. that’s what they plan on doing, anyway. and that’s what you’re told is the plot of the game. but nope, that’s just how you get to the plot. see, the fucked-upness of the world gets more and more apparent as you go. at first you can write it off as the gamemakers screwing up (this is a very rough game, so that is understandable) but it’s more than that.
after a while of truly lousy dungeons, hilarious dialogue and goofy monsters, there is a “joke” that you can hear from various NPCs. This joke is actually not a joke at all, but people can’t stop laughing long enough to tell the whole thing to you. the story is actually very sad, but because it’s “classified” as a joke, people are compelled to laugh at it and think of it as funny.
the story is about a parent turtle and its baby turtle. one day the baby turtle is playing in the safe little yard its parent made for it, and gets lost. while it’s looking for the baby, the parent comes across a pebble that looks like its baby, and takes it home all happy that it’s found its child. the real baby finds its way home, only to see the parent has replaced it with a damn rock. the parent turtle refuses to admit the pebble isn’t its real baby, because if it admits to its error, it would look stupid. deep down, the turtle knows the pebble isn’t really its child, that the real baby is out there somewhere alone because the parent can’t put aside its pride admit it’s been fooling itself all this time. 
that’s basically a fairy tale about a narcissistic parent, isn’t it? it’s also the story of the big bad of this game, who made your world into a toybox for his daughter to play in, until she disappeared into it. not to worry, he made a pebble doll that looks just like his missing child and enchanted it to seem alive. don’t remind him it’s not really her. just don’t.
so.
this game has been pretending up til now to be a cheeky parody of the RPG genre with weird details that makes no sense. now we find out another reason why things are this way: the shitty enemies, the dazed and “classified” NPCs, the weirdly non-threatening child’s drawing monsters, all of these things are the creations of the big bad, and they look this way because they’re meant to be safe, fun game pieces for a little kid to play with. 
“classification” is not just a winking acknowledgement of the genre, it’s an actual magical force used by the big bad to create roles for living human beings who are effectively mind controlled slaves. that’s some dark stuff right there, if you look past the cutesy video game storytelling for a sec and imagine what that must be like for the people. it’s a simple story, hidden inside the decoy RPG plot, but damn if it isn’t good.
so, about the the small world you can explore in the game: it used to be a lot bigger, but it’s been cut out of the much larger real world by magic and turned into a sort of childproofed playpen full of colorful NPCs specifically “classified” (presumably from the residents of the part of the world that got isolated) for the intended player to encounter on an adventure plot. 
You aren’t the intended player of the game, either. your protagonist is a random boring teenager who didn’t get “classified” at all, presumably because everyone, including the big bad, forgets he’s there. He was left off the list entirely, making him very useful to the opponent of the big bad, a former collaborator and “classification” worker who rebelled. this former collaborator is the same guy who originally spread the story of the turtle and the pebble to shame the big bad, by the way. to make the story go away, big bad tried to “classify” it as a joke. ok dude, you do you.
People who don’t get “classified” can act however they choose, it looks like. they don’t get stuck in the story like YOUNG MAN WHO BELIEVES IN JUSTICE, who can only stand on the sidewalk and talk about justice. somebody who wanted to fight the big bad, who’s always looking for gaps in the system to drive a wedge into, could really break the game if he could find someone who wasn’t “classified” to work through. he’s done it before (unsuccessfully) but this time around, your player character is that wedge. 
and what a wedge he is!
imagine Link running all those endless, thankless errands in all his endless, thankless incarnations. saving babies, fetching cheese, herding goats, getting no real say in things but always doing the hard work--that’s you. now imagine Link literally fades into invisibility from being ignored so hard. that is also you. as in, your character will disappear from existence at one point when the big bad decides you’re ruining his daughter’s RPG adventure (more like because you make him remember that she’s just a doll and not actually his missing daughter) and writes you out of the story. it’s easy to do because your character’s main trait is that people don’t really pay attention to him. even in the game itself, this character is just your vehicle to play Okage: Shadow King and enact the choices you make. (this game gets super meta and i love it.)
big bad just emphasizes your overshadowed (eh? ehhhh?) nature until you stop existing at all. 
while you’re invisible, you end up in the town of Triste, where ignored people gather. this whole sequence is just amazing--half the businesses are closed, or they’re open and you can hear music and smell food but no one is inside. a lot of people who are inside their homes won’t open the door and might yell at you to go away. some folks hang around outside and will talk to you. everyone is sad but happy to have this place to belong when no one else can see they exist. Triste is well-named (means “sad” in french). it’s basically the town of social anxiety, hesitation, longing and depression. and it’s amazing. 
you can find a closed up house where, when you knock, a guy inside yells “I HOPE IT BREAKS! THAT TINY WORLD OF YOURS!” like. someone’s extra mad at the big bad 0_0
and oh hey by the way, while you’re exploring this beautiful village of forgotten NPCs, you run into the voice of a certain princess who got lost in the world her father made for her to play in who knows how many hundreds of years ago. turns out this poor kid used to play all sorts of fun games in the world, but she ended up in Triste. while the doll version of her has adventures, she can watch through its eyes, so she knows you despite never having actually met. 
man, imagine being that poor baby turtle princess and having to wait around all alone in a town full of invisible sad people because your dad has replaced you, in his grief, with an enchanted doll. but now someone’s come to help her, someone who is also sad and alone because everyone’s forgotten them. your defining flaw as a character, your tendency to be neglected to the point of non-existence, is what allows you to connect with the lost princess. your sorrow brings you to a place where you can plan to make real change and fix your broken ass world. i fucking love that! 
first you have to get people to acknowledge you so you will stop being invisible, and then you have to confront the big bad’s weird grief-crazy reign of terror, bring the real princess back from Triste, and end the “classification” system that keeps the world isolated and its people enslaved. somewhere in all of this, you will also presumably need to deal with the fully-powered Shadow King, but eh. later for that. 
this is the ps4 version, so first i have to get the goddamn Q of Hearts for the platinum trophy. THEN we’ll deal with Stan.
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