#But then comments saying that they could’ve pulled the plug on the show right then and that would’ve been how it ended got to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1-900-venusluvs · 25 days

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i still adore you, I swear

🍃! Plug! Miguel x Fem! reader !🍃

A/n: guys i was mf arching my back and typing this out on my laptop n I'm so glad ppl like the first one I rlly appreciate itt pookies! also I had to crop some of this out cause my man was full on arching his BACKK but credits to JesGreenEight for this banner!!!

cw/smut warning: pure smut, Miguel being a freaky man, weed, shitty ending bc y'all KNOW i'm absolute dog dookie at writing them, creampie, oral (m receiving), somewhere in it I said that reader has a bad reflex and I'm so sorrayy.

So now here you are, smoking a joint with your plug. The harsh yet sweet aroma of weed filled his room. He passes the joint back to you letting you take a rip. You cough a little from the smoke clouding your lungs but still manage to have a smile. You pass the joint back to him without a word. Breaking the silence Miguel spoke in an almost slurred tone.

“I know it’s not the weed speaking but has anyone told you you're so attractive, ma?” His veiny hand finds your thigh before rubbing the flesh without knowing. You immediately snicker as you answer back in a flirty tone.

“Hmm no Miggy they haven't” he trails his hand closer and grips your inner thigh while chuckling, you two were just on the moon. He replies to your comment after taking a hit.

“Honestly I should show you how attractive you are to me.” your eyes widened at his statement but you were intrigued at most. The way his shirt hugged him, the way you can see his cock print through his sweatpants. It was all so feverish. He comes closer to you with his lips up to your neck making the hair stand up practically.

“You smell so good.” he finally says before placing kisses on your neck making you moan. His kisses go lower to your chest. He takes off your shirt revealing your skin to him. He instantly kisses your neck now having his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. The smell of weed and anticipation is clouding the room. Your panties are already soaked from when he first called you attractive. Before you know it he speaks in an entertaining tone.

“How about you taking it out for me?”

You instantly pull down his pants and his underwear. His cock bounces to his stomach before standing back up. His cock was decorated with some hair. Your breath caught in your throat after realizing how hot it was. You knew it was wrong but it felt so damn good, you can say that.

He puts the palm of his hand on your cheek as he rubs your bottom lip with his thumb, he looks down at you with love in his eyes. Were you always this pretty?

“Look at those pretty lips.”

he says in an admiring tone. You faintly smile before giving a couple of kitten licks and then actually putting your whole mouth on the tip.

“You like that?” You mumble out on his cock. Miguel could’ve just came right then and there. He saw how sexy you looked with your soft lips wrapped around his cock like a glove.

“There you go” he muttered under his breath. You push your head deeper onto his cock but you choke on it due to your horrible gag reflex. You pull back with a saliva string pulling with you.

“Hmm, Miguel..”

you say, slurring your words a bit. You were cockdrunk from him.

“You did such a good job, didn’t you? m’ so proud baby.” He spoke out while looking down at you. He breaks the moment of silence by saying.

“Think you can bend over for me mami?” He says before stroking his cock. You bend over to feel his huge hands grabbing and kneading the fat of your hips and pulling your pants down. He gasps and chuckles when he sees your panties with a wet spot making it noticeable. “I see you getting wet for me.” He says.

He pulls your panties to the side to see your plump lips soaked It just looks like you wanted to get fucked by him. He knows what you need, Just let him guide you. Suddenly you feel his fat mushroom tip lay on your clit.

“Are you ready bunny?” He just makes you feel mushy inside even if he’s saying simple things. You nod your head before preparing for his cock. He shoves his tip in, You whimper as you can feel being stretched out by his thick tip.

“Awhh shit. Your pussy’s huggin’ around me.” He moans out. He can even admit that your pussy did make him moan and groan. He has fucked many girls but they all just felt like he had to do it. With you, it feels special.

“Hmm, M-miggy..please move..” you moan. Your moans sounded pornographic. He bucks his hips into you while grunting.

“Ah this pussy got superpowers or somethin’ hm?” He jokes before smacking your plump ass. He loves the way it jiggles when he smacks it even lightly.

“God d-damn.” You manage to yelp out. He thrusts deeper into your pussy. “Fuck you're gonna make me cum. Can’t believe I have your cute ass under me.”

After minutes of moaning and groaning, you feel a full feeling. His cum sprays inside your cunt and you feel it Immediately fill your cunt up. When he pulls out his soft cock you can feel you can feel his cum leak out of your cunt.

“Your mine got it? my stock is coming soon but you're mine from now on,” he says hugging you to the bed and holding you fairly close to him. You feel butterflies roam around your stomach when you see his hand on your lower waist. Before you even spoke you heard his snores filling the room. You giggle quietly at the fact that he fell asleep in a second.

and here's to my taglist ( ◜‿◝ )♡: @moon-rivr @monstera02 @lazyjellyfish300 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @yournextbimbogf @chiwhorei

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magxit · 1 year

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Matty played Madison Square Garden 3 months ago, so he was in NYC. He also was on the Johnathon Ross Show in England 2 months ago.// But Anon, Taylor was in LA and then Glendale in tour rehearsals during this time. There is absolutely zero evidence they were in the same city after the January appearance at the 1975 concert. I think people are getting tripped up by what we’ve actually seen versus that obviously false Sun article: there is atm nothing to suggest anything more than a fling/situationship is happening here. People need to get better at understanding the Sun often gets kernels of truth right but the details horribly wrong. As 2 people who were already friends and collaborators and had a history of 10 years, very little needed to transpire between them to get to a fling/situationship happening. Matty clearly is into her and has been and probably took his shot as soon as he heard the news. Not to mention her hooking up with someone else fresh off a break is her usual MO so I don’t get why people are struggling to understand how this could’ve happened? Also, people romanticizing him flying right after his gig to get to her: yeah cause he knew he’d get some (don’t underestimate what men will do for good sex) and once again, he’s been into her for some time and knew he needed to act fast here (he fumbled the bag previously).

The most obvious answer is usually the right one: Taylor’s first weeks on tour and then the switch to The 1 indicate the timing of the split and it being sudden. Obviously there were likely issues brewing for some time but you can’t ignore Joe was with her in LA until his film started and that he liked her pre-tour post and photo dumped himself at her Grammy party with Jack and the cats plus there were sightings of them in LA together through February). You also can’t ignore that it seems obvious something happened to cause her to pull the plug and that something made her friends immediately distance themselves from Joe too. Abi still follows some of the K family and Karlie and yet she immediately unfollowed Joe. I know some like to paint it like Taylor forces her pals to do this. But she clearly doesn’t make them choose based on multiple different connections several friends have to people who are on her shit list. So ask yourself why then did they all unfollow Joe so fast (especially since he’s rarely on SM)? And for those who say, why didn’t her pals know I’d ask have you been in an adult LTR? Issues or not, Taylor clearly believed she and Joe were going to make it (the house, her music, the likely engagement, etc). You don’t sell out your partner or share all the shit even with close friends when you expect to still be in the relationship - but also a legit source (People) indicated that pals did know they had ups and downs. But the biggest indication honestly should be how clearly Taylor is going through it in these past few weeks and even now (see last night’s show). We’ll see where this thing - whatever it is - between her and Matty goes. But with him back on tour shortly and her on tour too (plus everything she’s still dealing with) I’d be surprised if it goes on past May.

One last thing to point out: People is Tree’s go-to. When the Sun broke the TH news she didn’t comment and it played out as it did: a rebound or fling. When the Sun broke the Joe news, People had confirmation of the relationship within a couple hours because it was obviously something real. With this Sun article on Matty, People said nothing all week and then has only noted they were spotted together and the rumors from the Sun since. People would have gotten the confirmation this is a relationship if it actually was that. My guess is that we’ll see this play out like TH a bit and then it’ll fizzle.

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snelbz · 3 years

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Life As We Know It {Chapter 17}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

It had been a long day.

They hadn’t done jack shit, but a long day nonetheless, thanks to the run in with Tomas.

After eating lunch, Cassian had taken Nyx out to the pool, letting him float around in his little inner tube and splash in the water. He kept a close eye on him and he wasn’t sure he’d heard so many giggles from the little dude in months.

Not even fifteen minutes after they’d come out, Nesta decided to join them, though it wasn’t to play and splash like Nyx. No, she brought a book hat, and tanning oil, but Nyx squealed his delight when he saw her regardless.

After some goading and thinly veiled threats to splash her smutty book if she didn’t get in, Nesta relented and Nyx had the time of his life.

Until he got chlorine in his eye and had a meltdown.

Just like that, pool time was over, and after taking him inside and getting changed, Cassian was lounging on the couch while Nyx played on the floor.

Nesta started up the stairs and said, “I think I’m going to take a bath. Relax from…earlier.”

From that piece of shit Tomas and the things he’d said. Cassian wished he’d of at least said something, but he most wished he’d have throttled him.

Cassian simply nodded and Nesta was off, hurrying up the stairs and shimmying out of her bikini once she closed herself inside of the master bathroom.

She hadn’t been in the warm water with her eyes closed for five minutes before a horrid sound came from downstairs.

One word screamed at the top of Cassian’s lungs, her name.

“NESTA!”

For a moment, she thought she had imagined it. But, then he screamed again.

“NESTA!”

She shot up in the tub and was about to yell back, when she heard, “COME QUICK!”

Panic rose in the pit of her stomach as she jumped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around her wet body as she threw open the bathroom door. “I’m coming! I’m coming! What happened?! What’s wrong?!”

“Come on, come on, come on!” Cassian yelled, but it wasn’t fear in his voice - only excitement. “Hurry, before you miss him!”

Nesta rounded the top of the stairs, and froze. A few feet in front of Cassian, on his own two feet, was Nyx, taking slow, steady steps toward his uncle.

Her feet carried her down the stairs in a flash and she was next to Cassian, on her knees, just like he was. At the appearance of his aunt, he grinned, those angelic cheeks rounding out and reached for her.

And he tumbled down.

“Shit,” Cassian muttered and lifted him back onto his unsteady feet, praying they weren’t about to have more tears. But the dark blue eyes that gazed up at him were not tear-filled, just wide and curious as always.

Taking a few more tentative steps, he reached them, leaning into Cassian, but a hand reaching out to take Nesta’s as he animatedly spoke in his own baby language.

“Good job, bubba,” Nesta cried, hoisting him up into her arms and crushing him in a hug. “Such a big boy.”

Nyx giggled and wiggled to be put down.

He wasn’t done just yet.

His feet hit the ground and he was off. He walked from Nesta to Cassian then back again. Every time he fell down, he got right back up and kept on moving.

“Look at you go, buddy,” Cassian laughed, catching Nyx as he made it to him.

“Think he’ll sleep good tonight?” Nesta asked, watching them both with a smile on her face.

“I hope so,” he chuckled, letting Nyx pat him on the face, grinning up at him.

He meandered back across the room, plopping down at his toys and began playing again.

“And I guess we’re done with that,” he laughed, standing up and shaking his head. “He finally walked.”

“Sixteen months,” she sighed, propping a hip on the side of the couch. “I was starting to think he’d never do it.”

“Me either,” he said, sitting down. He glanced up at her—and froze.

He’d completely forgotten she was wearing nothing but a towel.

“Didn’t we have a rule about coming down here nude?” Cassian asked, under his breath.

Nesta’s eyes darted to his. “Pardon?”

His eyebrows raised and he gestured to her towel, and Nesta looked down, as if she had completely forgotten that she was wearing it, too. “Oh, shit, sorry. I was in such a hurry to come downstairs-.”

“I mean, I don’t blame you-.”

“I could’ve put on something-.”

“I was screaming your name-.”

“Screaming my name,” Nesta repeated, her cheeks heating. Last time Cassian had screamed her name, it had been under very, very different context.

Although, she had been wearing little to nothing then, too.

The memories flashed through her mind, and from the way Cassian was watching her, she assumed that they were flashing through his, too.

She watched as his throat bobbed and his eyes left hers, dragging down her body as if he couldn’t stop himself. He met her gaze again and she felt her cheeks heating. Her cheeks, her ears, her neck, her entire body heated under that gaze.

“I’m going to…” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, towards the stairs. “Finish my bath, I guess.”

“Right,” Cassian replied, his eyes still on her. “I’ll put him down in just a few minutes.”

She glanced over at the baby as she backed up toward the stairs. Nyx was indeed starting to rub his eyes, and noticing Nesta’s attention on him, he yawned and reached for her.

Before she could cross the room, Cassian was on his feet and picking Nyx up.

“I can take him,” she protested, but he shook his head, not looking at her.

“You go relax. I’ve got him.”

Nesta cleared her throat and nodded, convincing herself to say nothing more as she hurried up the stairs, clinging to her towel.

She settled back into the bath, even though the water had chilled.

She couldn’t control her breathing.

She thought of that time when he’d caught her in the bath before, right after they had moved in, when he caught her doing intimate things with herself, alone.

Then she thought of the immense amount of pleasure that he’d given her, and how nothing and no one had ever compared to it.

Her heart began to beat a little bit faster, and a throbbing formed between her thighs.

She wondered if Cassian ever caught himself thinking about it, if he ever wanted to do it again.

Judging by the look in his eyes downstairs, the intense way he had been watching her…

Nesta pulled herself out of the tub.

She dressed and pulled her hair into a ponytail atop her head, but couldn’t decide if going downstairs would be a good or bad idea. She couldn’t decide if being around him right now was a smart decision, not when the thoughts in her head were so distracting she couldn’t even focus on the laundry she had neglected to fold for a few days.

Her phone vibrated where she’d plugged it in on her nightstand and Balthazar’s name lit up the screen.

That was another reason she couldn’t allow herself to entertain the thoughts constantly running through her head. She and Bal weren’t in a relationship, they were in no way exclusive and hadn’t had that conversation, but Nesta wasn’t the type to date—or in this case, sleep with—two men at once.

She could hear Cassian down in the living room again, no doubt cleaning up Nyx’s toys and settling down with a beer. She wanted to join him, wanted to curl up on the other side if the couch with a glass of wine and listen to him commentate whatever stupid show or game he was watching.

But she knew that wasn’t a good idea.

So she laid down on her bed, grabbed the book from her nightstand, and read until all of those emotions that Cassian made her feel faded into the back of her mind where she told them to stay.

The next morning, Cassian was on Nyx duty. Since he had the day off, the nanny didn’t have to come, which meant bro time.

First, they went for a jog along the Sidra where both Nyx and Cassian got their fair share of looks from the ladies. Turns out a cute kid was a great way to gain the attention of beautiful women.

On the way back home, Cassian decided to make a detour for some lunch, and ended up pushing the jogging stroller right into Nesta’s restaurant.

He knew where it was, and knew that Nesta was a damn good cook, but somehow, he hadn’t visited the restaurant in the over four months they’d been living together.

It was packed, to absolutely no surprise and when he walked in, he was greeted by an amazing array of delicious smells. Quickly realizing the stroller was going to be a hindrance, he parked it in the corner by the door and held Nyx as he made his way into one of the sitting areas.

“It’s open seating, so please, sit where you like.”

Cassian turned as a deep voice spoke from behind him. The man was watching him, and when he turned, his eyes fell on Nyx. Recognition lit them up for a moment, Nesta having brought Nyx into the restaurant more than once.

“Thanks. Is Nesta free?”

“Last I saw, she was helping out in the kitchen, but I’ll check. Take a seat and I’ll be back.”

Cassian nodded and the man was gone, disappearing through a swinging door to the back.

Indeed, Nesta was manning the grill, an assortment of sandwiches, meats, pancakes and other items sizzling around her. She was reading order tickets and communicating with her line cooks, and everything was exactly as it should be.

Until Helion was leaning on the wall next to her.

She groaned. “Tell me it’s not the lady who claims to find a hair in her food every time she’s here.”

The patron in question was in the dining room, a brunch buffet spread out before her and her friends. Her curly, red hair was piled on top of her head and without fail, she always seemed to find a lone, red, curling hair in her dishes, no matter what she ate and who was in the kitchen. Even though Nesta had no one in her employment with curly, red hair.

“Oh, no,” Helion said, his smirk growing. “There’s a handsome man out front asking for you.”

Balthazar.

Nesta groaned. Even though she didn’t mean to. “Let him know I’m busy, but I’ll be out in just a minute.”

“It’s not him,” he replied, practically singing the words. “This one has a very cute baby with him.”

She was moving before he’d finished speaking, hollering at one of her cooks to take up her place on the line.

When she went into the dining room, Cassian was sitting in a booth, Nyx in a high chair at the end of the table next to him.

“What a pleasant surprise,” Nesta crooned as she approached.

Nyx’s head whipped around at the familiar voice as Cassian looked up from his menu. Nesta was lifting Nyx out of the high chair when Cassian said, “We were out and about. Someone was hungry.”

Nesta chuckled. “Was that someone you or the baby?”

“Fine,” Cassian said, grinning. “Two someones were hungry.”

Nesta snorted as she kissed Nyx’s cheek. “Couldn't have cleaned up before coming in here?” She asked, nodding to Cassian’s damp t-shirt.

He shrugged his shoulder. “This was on the way home. You should be glad we graced you with our presence.”

“Right,” she laughed softly, sitting Nyx back in the high chair and buckling him in. “Any idea what you want?”

He was flipping through the menu, and honestly, every damn thing he saw looked delicious. He smiled up at her. “Surprise us. I can’t choose.”

Smirking, she took his menu and said, “Chicken livers and brussel sprouts, coming right up.”

He rolled his eyes as she walked away, but she entered their order into the system and returned to the table, sitting down in the empty booth seat across from him.

“He have a good morning?” She asked, holding Nyx’s outstretched hand and letting him grip her thumb. He shook her hand as hard as he could and grinned up at her, babbling excitedly.

“Aside from the blow out he had this morning, I’d say so. Which he found very amusing that I had to clean up” Cassian chuckled, rolling his eyes. “This is the only kid who laughs while he’s covered in shit, I swear.”

Nesta shook her head, laughing softly.

Cassian took the chance to look around. “This place is great, Nes. The only thing it’s missing is a bar.”

Nesta looked around with him and nodded. “I’ve thought about it quite a bit. Don’t wanna mess with licensing. I’ve already got too much on my plate around here.”

Cassian cocked his head to the side. “You just gotta get someone to run the bar, that’s all. You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know.”

Nesta looked back to Cassian. “Someone like you?”

“Handsome, smart, with a high knowledge of what it takes to run a bar?” He asked. “Yeah, someone like me.”

She narrowed her eyes and nudged his shin with the toe of her shoe. “Don’t get too cocky. If you decide to leave your bar and want a new project… Sure, I’ll add a bar.”

Cassian blinked. “I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not.”

Nesta shook her head. “I’m always serious.”

“At one time, I thought that was true,” Cassian muttered.

His shin got another nudge.

“I’m serious,” she repeated, with a quiet laugh. “Shockingly enough, you’d be one of the few people I trust to let into my management.”

He stayed quiet for a minute, long enough that she glanced at him from where she’d been looking at Nyx. He was chewing on his bottom lip and she had to physically restrain herself from reaching over and working it out from between his teeth. Feeling her attention on him, he looked at her, and said, “We’ll talk about it more at home, yeah?”

Nodding, Nesta replied, “Of course. But don’t just do it because I said something, I don’t want-.”

“I’ve actually been thinking about opening my own place for while,” he murmured, and then quickly added, “Not that this would be my place, it’s yours, of course. But I’ve got savings. I can help with any applications and licensing and renovations that need to be done. Not to mention, it would be an investment in a growing business. That always looks good in a portfolio.”

Nesta smiled. “Like you said, we’ll talk about it at home. I’m gonna go check on your food.”

“Please do,” Cassian said, waving her away. “I’m starving.”

With a roll of her eyes, she stood up and walked toward the kitchen, shoving Cassian’s sweaty head as she walked by him.

Helion was waiting by the kitchen doors. “Flirting, how cute. It’s like watching two horny teenagers.”

“Fuck off,” Nesta muttered.

Helion only grinned and followed her into the kitchen. “Admit it. You’ve got the hots for hot uncle.”

“I can fire you, you know,” Nesta said.

“You wouldn’t,” he said, right on her heels. “You’d be bored to death here without me.”

She didn’t need to bother telling him he was right. On either front.

Nesta was beat by the time she got off. It was an effort of will to make it home before she fell asleep, but as she parked her car in the driveway, she nearly sighed in relief. Cassian had said he’d handle dinner, so she knew that a glass of wine—and hopefully, an uninterrupted bath—was in her future.

She hadn’t expected to find Cassian on his hands and knees as soon as she came in the door.

He looked up at her, eyes wide and said, “Uh, hey. You’re home.”

“I am,” she replied, chuckling. “What are you doing?”

He hesitated before saying, “Playing hide and seek with Nyx.”

Nesta blinked. “Hide and-? Cassian, he’s one.”

“I left him on the floor with his toys and I went into the kitchen for thirty seconds to check on dinner,” he said, standing up.

She waited for him to go on, not understanding. And then her eyes widened. “You lost him?”

“He’s not lost,” he said, holding his hands up. “We’re playing hide and seek.”

“Cassian-.”

“He’s one, Nesta, he couldn’t have gone far-.”

“He walks now!” She cried, tossing her purse on the bench by the door and hurrying into the living room.

A giggle sounded from the other room, and they both sped around the corner where Nyx had made himself perfectly happy.

In the laundry room, Nyx sat in a pile of Nesta’s laundry, waving her underwear in the air.

As Nesta let out a relieved breath, Cassian chuckled. “Atta boy.”

Nesta whacked Cassian on the shoulder before picking Nyx up and freeing her panties from his grasp.

He immediately started crying.

“Way to take his toy away,” Cassian muttered.

Nesta shot him a look.

Cassian shrugged. “I would’ve cried, too.”

Nesta tried her best not to laugh, but failed. “You’re ridiculous.”

Cassian opened his mouth to reply, but the smoke alarm near the kitchen began to blare.

Nyx’s cries got louder and Nesta stopped Cassian, giving Nyx to him and hurried into the kitchen, pulling a pan of burnt French fries out of the oven and opened the back door and the door leading to the garage. She got a kitchen towel and was waving the smoky air away from the smoke alarm, and after a minute or two, the incessant blaring ceased.

Leaning back against the counter, she took a deep breath and looked at the doorway, finding Cassian standing there, Nyx still in his arms, though the tears had stopped. He was cringing, expecting her to start yelling any moment—.

But Nesta took one look at the charred French fries and started laughing. Deep, belly laughs that made her stomach hurt so badly she doubled over.

Cassian turned to the living room, getting Nyx set up in his playpen, and walked back into the kitchen, where Nesta was still laughing with her hands on her knees, trying to get air down.

“You find something funny, Archeron?” He asked, pausing in front of her. Even he was unable to stop the small smile on his face.

“French fries?” she asked, unable to catch her breath. “You— You burnt frozen french fries? How long have they been in there? Two hours?”

Cassian looked behind him at the clock on the stove and rubbed the back of his neck. “I like them crispy.”

“Oh, they’re crispy,” Nesta promised, straightening her back, small bouts of laughter still finding their way out. “They’re really damn crispy.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, shaking his head. He pulled a series of paper towels off the stovetop and revealed a tray of chicken nuggets and a pot of cooked broccoli. “At least I didn’t burn everything.”

“Chicken nuggets and broccoli?” she asked, her grin still wide. “Kids barely old enough to eat solids and we’re already having kid dinners?”

“Kid dinners?” Cassian repeated. “You’re lying your ass off if you’re telling me that you don’t enjoy a big ass plate of chicken nuggets.”

Nesta laughed, shaking her head. “They’re dinosaur shaped!”

“The dino ones taste better!” Cassian protested.

“We’ll see about that,” Nesta said, and just as she looked up at Cassian, she realized how close he’d stopped from her.

He couldn’t have been more than a foot away, but he felt much closer.

Nesta’s laughter died down, although that light feeling in the pit of her stomach remained.

One of his hands was braced on the counter she leaned on, and though he wasn’t caging her in, she couldn’t help but stare up at him.

“At least it’s not breakfast again,” she murmured, noting the way he was staring at her, too.

“You’ve never complained about my breakfast,” he said, swallowing roughly.

She tracked the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed. “Well, you’ve never burnt it, so.”

The corner of his mouth twitched and she knew he was trying his hardest not to smile. He opened his mouth to reply, but Nyx started talking from the other room, babbling and nonsense and baby language reaching them.

Cassian seemed to realize how close he stood to her and backed up a step, clearing his throat. “If you want to grab him, I’ll put some fresh fries in the oven.”

Nodding, Nesta said, “Yeah, of course.”

“I’m making them crispy, though,” he said, as she left.

Nesta snorted as she shook her head and lifted Nyx out of his pack n play. “Your uncle is nuts. Yes, he is.”

Nyx’s grin melted Nesta’s heart.

Forty minutes later, once the french fries were sufficiently crispy, the three of them were sitting at the table, eating dinner. Nesta didn’t mind it, not one bit, the fact that they sat there every night and ate together.

It was almost as if they were a family.

An odd, dysfunctional, interestingly beautiful family.

#snacmc lawki #snacmc collabs #life as we know it #lawki #snelbz tacmc collab #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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tanyawritesstories · 3 years

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Keep It Warm | Commander Wolffe x Reader

I couldn't not post a fic on May 4th, it's Star Wars day for Makers sake 😝 so have some sexy Commander Wolffe and May the Force be with you!

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: smut, NSFW, cockwarming, voyeurism, oral (m receiving), spanking, edging, brat taming, orgasm denial, Sinker & Boost get a little action, masturbation, Wolffe is the second best dom in the GAR

•••

Wolffe looked up from his desk and was hit with a wave of emotions as you stood just inside the door: namely frustration, disappointment, and lust. He couldn’t believe the audacity you had to stroll into his office after the stunts you had pulled. To top that off, he had called you to his office an hour ago and you just now showed up. You clearly needed a lesson in manners.

It had started as a bit of revenge. Wolffe hadn’t even kissed you since he got back from his mission, which had been two weeks ago! You teased him by unbuttoning your shirt more than usual and bending over whenever you knew he was watching. You had hung out in the mess until he had shown up before flirting with Sinker, who knew all about your plan. Wolffe had glared daggers into both you and his sergeant to no avail.

The entire day you had teased him and at this point it was just becoming fun to see him pent up and frustrated, knowing sooner or later he would take said frustration out on you. Or at least you hoped he would. He didn’t tolerate much from you, and, as much as you enjoyed it, even you thought you might be pushing the envelope this time. Especially when you had, on impulse, taken your chance and spanked Boost as he was walking by. You had almost hurt your hand smacking the plastoid hard enough that Boost would feel it. The trooper reacted surprised but winked back at you and sent you a look that made your knees weak. That time you hadn’t known Wolffe was watching.

You weren’t sure what finally made Wolffe snap and call you to his office, but when he had, you were actually working and so waited until you had finished your assignment. Now you stood just inside the door, waiting for him to say something.

He beckoned you closer with a finger, you made a show of rolling your eyes and reluctantly walking to stand in front of his desk. He looked you up and down, you could see the stern and judgemental look in his dark eyes.

"Why were you late?" He asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

"I was busy," you replied curtly.

"I see. Too busy to follow your Commander's orders?"

You stayed silent, not sure what kind of response or reaction he was looking for. "Given that they were unprofessional orders, I figured they could wait." His eyes narrowed at you. Well that was the wrong answer. "What have you been doing all day?" He questioned.

"Work."

He huffed a breath out his nose in annoyance. "No, Kitten, you've been naughty. Why?"

You finally broke and began rambling. "It's your fault! You've been back from your mission for two weeks and haven't even shown me a lick of attention. I know I shouldn't drag you away from your work, but fucking hell, Wolffe. Two weeks!"

"So that's what this is about?" He asked, rising from his chair. “That’s unfortunate for you, baby. I was going to make tonight special for you, but now you’ve pissed me off. My side of the desk, now.”

You sighed, feeling defeated and annoyed. You crossed your arms with a huff and walked to his side, bending over the desk without having to be told.

“Look at that! You are capable of being a good girl, you just don’t want to,” Wolffe mocked.

“Just fucking spank me if you’re going to,” you snapped, ready to be done and get back to work. Wolffe’s fingers dug into your hair and he yanked your head back. His hand came down harshly between your legs, not where you were expecting. You yelped and he slapped your cunt again.

“Wolffe!” you exclaimed, “What the hell?”

“You better watch your tongue, Kitten. I had planned on letting you cum, but now every time you mouth off I’m pushing it back one hour.” He snarled.

“Are you serious?” You tried turning your head to look at him but he kept your head straight.

“That’s two hours now.”

You groaned in frustration and gave up trying to fight him. This was Wolffe, he would get what he wanted. You heard him sit back down in his chair, but his hands never left your hips, his thumbs pressing into the skin between your ass and thighs.

“You wet yet, kitten?” he purred.

That line alone, said in his gruff but smooth voice was enough to make you soaked. One of his hands left your hip, his knuckles dragging against your clothed heat.

“Y-yes, sir,” you answered.

Wolffe just hummed as his hands wandered up to the waist of your pants. In one swift movement he yanked them and your panties down to your knees. You squeaked as he exposed your wet flesh to the cool air.

He kicked your legs apart and slowly dragged one finger through your soaked folds. "You're wet but I need you wetter," he commented.

"If you'd let me cum that might help," you mumbled.

Wolffe flicked his finger against your clit, the pleasant sting making you release a strangled moan.

"That's three hours now."

You rolled your eyes, at least he couldn't see that. You heard him spit into his hand before he cupped your pussy with it, smearing his saliva around. You bit your lip trying to hold in the lewd noises that threatened to spill from your lips.

You couldn't hold them in when he eased his middle finger into you, wiggling it around and sending bolts of pleasure through your body. He fingered you tantalizingly slow. Enough to stimulate you but not enough to make you cum. He had gotten this down to a science.

He could feel your slickness increase and your walls flutter around his thick digit. Once he decided you were wet enough he removed his finger. You whined in protest and were so caught up in how he was denying you that you didn't hear him undoing his trousers.

He suddenly grabbed your hips in an iron grip and pulled you back towards him. Your back hit his chest and he lined his cock up with your entrance before shoving you down on him.

The noise you made was something between a moan and a yelp, your body tightening with the unexpected intrusion.

"That could've hurt," you grumbled.

Wolffe took one hand and placed it on your stomach, pressing down he was able to feel how deep he was inside you. "Careful, kitten. You're up to four hours now." He took his other hand and used two fingers to stroke lightly over your clit. "And you're going to sit here and look pretty while you keep my cock warm for every one of those hours."

Your mouth gaped open, four hours! You loved sitting on Wolffe's cock but four hours was a long time. He was nestled snugly inside you, hot and throbbing. This might be impossible.

Wolffe reached up and undid the rest of the buttons on your shirt, letting it hang open. You felt tight around him and he could feel every little ripple your muscles made.

"Now don't misbehave, I have work to finish," he said.

He kept a strong arm around your hips, keeping you still while he looked over reports on his datapad. You sighed dramatically and Wolffe pinched your inner thigh in response. You leaned back against his chest and made yourself comfortable, you were going to be here for a while.

~~~~

As if just sitting on Wolffe's hard, impressive cock was difficult enough, every so often he would shallowly thrust up into you or play with your clit. Anything to make it more tortuous.

Nothing was really happening aside from his teasing and occasionally asking you to hand him a different datapad from his desk. You were startled when knocking was heard on his door. Your head shot up in alarm.

"Wolffe?"

He didn't move.

"Wolffe what if they walk in?" You tried to get up but his strong arms held you down, keeping you tight to him.

"Then they'll have proof that you are the sluttiest officer on this ship," he growled in your ear, "and you're all mine." He called for whoever was on the other side of the door to come in. The door slid open and you looked away in embarrassment.

“Boost, do you have the data drive I asked for?”

You hesitantly looked up to see Boost standing across the room fiddling with the drive in his hand, his face had gone as red as his hair and his eyes tried to look anywhere except for you.

“I’m going to need that drive, Boost,” Wolffe said, motioning him closer.

“Can I toss it to you?” The flushed trooper asked.

“As you can see I can’t exactly get up right now so I’m going to need you to bring it here,” Wolffe responded.

Boost sighed and kept his eyes on the floor as he walked up to the desk and set the drive down.

“I’m going to need you to do one more thing,” Wolffe said, “Look up.”

Boost didn’t dare, he only shifted in place refusing to look at you or tear his eyes away from his feet. It hadn’t been his fault you spanked him, he didn't have any idea what you had been planning. “Respectfully sir, no thank you.”

“That’s an order, trooper,” Wolffe’s voice was stern. “I saw the look you gave her earlier. I know you want to look and I’m giving you permission. Go ahead.”

Boost slowly lifted his head and took in your mostly nude form, his eyes meeting yours before traveling downwards over your barely covered breasts, and stopping at the apex of your thighs where he could see your glistening pussy, plugged with his Commander’s cock. He released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in and couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Wolffe felt you clench around him, you were enjoying this, being on display and being eyed up like you were about to be devoured. “Say, kitten, if you and Boost are alright with it why don’t you suck his cock and if you do a good job I’ll take an hour off your punishment,” he suggested. Boost’s eyes widened and you whimpered.

“I’d like to if he’ll let me, please Commander,” you asked. Not only had the panty-dropping smirk Boost had given you before fueled your decision, but you needed some kind of stimulation and Wolffe would take away an hour. It was a win win.

Boost swallowed the lump in his throat and walked around to the other side of the desk. He removed his codpiece revealing the hard bulge in his blacks. His behavior changed from bashful to confident once he heard her gasp at the outline through his pants.

“You like what you see, princess?” Boost slowly pulled his blacks down as far as they could go with the rest of his armor still on. He wasn't as big as Wolffe but he was still well endowed.

You reached forward and lightly ran your fingertips up and down his shaft. "No teasing or I'll ask the Commander to keep that hour on your punishment," Boost threatened.

You sucked his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around and soaking up his precum. You broke away to spit into your hand and begin stroking his length. He hummed contently and ran his fingers through your hair.

You kitten licked his tip once more before engulfing his member in your mouth till he hit the back of your throat. Boost groaned and tugged on your hair as you started bobbing on his cock. You used your hand to pump what wasn't in your mouth.

Wolffe thought you deserved a reward for sucking Boost off. He reached down and put slight pressure on your clit, slowly rubbing circles on the concentrated batch of nerves. He could feel your body release more slick as he rubbed his fingers up and down your slit. You moaned at the sensation, sending the vibrations along Boost's cock. He growled and pulled you further onto him.

"C'mon Kitten, swallow his cock, I know you can," Wolffe encouraged.

You pulled off so just his tip was in your mouth before taking his dick down your throat so your nose bumped the skin of his abdomen. You breathed steadily through your nose and swallowed around his length.

Boost pressed himself impossibly closer, your forehead bumping his belt. You pulled off and jerked him with your hand a few times before taking him back into your mouth. You could feel your own high coming on from Wolffe's incessant toying. Boost's hips bucked and he slid further into your mouth.

"Mmm, c-can I cum down her throat, Commander?" Boost asked, his voice strained from being on the edge of climax.

You heard Wolffe hum in approval from behind you. Boost thrust himself into your mouth a few times before releasing his load into your mouth. You swallowed everything he had and licked him clean, leaning back against Wolffe’s chest while licking your lips.

“Thank you, Boost. You may go now,” Wolffe bid.

Boost covered himself back in his armor and made his way out of the office. You evened out your breathing, coming down from the near high that Wolffe built you up to.

“How much time do I have left?” You asked.

“About fifty minutes I believe,” Wolffe replied, he grabbed the drive off his desk and plugged it into his datapad. You made yourself comfortable and settled back, just having to wait.

~~~~

You hadn’t realized you fell asleep until you were woken up by someone palming your breasts. You stirred, shifting around only to be reminded you were still stuffed full.

“Your time is up, kitten.”

Swift taps to your clit jolted you fully awake. Wolffe placed gentle kisses to your neck. “Would you like to cum now?”

You nodded weakly and mumbled out a yes. Wolffe easily lifted you up and off of him, causing you to whine as he slipped out of you. He laid you on your back on his desk, parting your legs to stand in between them, his still hard length resting against your stomach.

“You’ve been good, Kitten, so you get to decide. How do you want me?” Wolffe asked, sincerity in his voice.

“Hard and fast, Wolffe, please,” you begged. Your Commander smiled, “That’s my girl.”

He slowly sunk two fingers into you while his thumb played with your clit, you whined at his teasing. “I need to make sure you’re wet enough,” Wolffe addressed, “I don’t want to hurt my kitten.”

He pulled away once he was satisfied with the amount of slickness at the apex of your thighs. He coated his dick in the juices from his fingers, he lined up and pressed just his tip inside. Moans and desperate whimpers fell from your lips.

"What do you say, Kitten?"

"Can I have your cock, Commander? Please, please, please I want it so bad!" You rambled.

"There's a good girl," Wolffe praised. He rewarded you by sliding all the way in, his tip nudging your cervix. He released a guttural groan and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

"I'm glad you got what you wanted."

Both your and Wolffe's heads snapped towards the door where Sinker stood, arms crossed, an amused look on his face.

"Sinker, what the hell are you doing in here!" Wolffe snapped.

"I take it this is why Boost has had a pep in his step ever since he left your office," Sinker mused, "I just came to give you this datapad. You're lucky I convinced the General to send me instead of delivering it himself."

Your face heated up and you looked away. Your time was up, Wolffe was going to let you cum, why did Sinker have to interrupt now? You were already planning some way to sabotage him as payback when he spoke again. "I see your plan worked, you're welcome," Sinker was now standing against the right wall, messing with his vambrace.

"What plan?" Wolffe asked.

"The one she told me to just play along with in order to rile you up so you would fuck her senseless," he answered nonchalantly.

"Oh, she failed to mention that plan to me," Wolffe voiced, looking down at you. You had covered your face with your hands to hide the embarrassment at being found out.

“However,” Wolffe continued, “I did know what she was up to: and you, Sinker, did not have to be a part of it. You should have known better.”

You could practically feel Sinker smirking through his next words. "Do I get a blowjob too?"

You didn't expect Wolffe's reply. "No, Sinker," Wolffe slowly pulled out of you halfway, "You get to watch while I fuck her senseless."

At that, Wolffe slammed back into you making you cry out his name. He set a brutal pace, one hand on your shoulder the other holding one of your legs up. The delicious scrape of his cock against your walls made you moan loudly, your eyes fluttering closed, your brain almost unable to comprehend how good you felt.

"Nuh uh, baby," Wolffe drawled, moving his hand from your shoulder to your jaw, tilting your head back. "Look at him, kitten. Show Sinker how good I'm making you feel."

You slowly let your eyes open to see Sinker biting his lip hard and trying to keep his hands off himself. Wolffe hit that hidden pleasure point within you and you screamed.

"That's it, scream for me, kitten."

You looked to see Sinker had slid down the wall and removed his codpiece, he was staring at you while furiously palming himself.

You clenched hard around Wolffe and he growled, picking up his pace if that was even possible. You felt your high rapidly approaching.

"Are you getting close, Kitten?" Wolffe asked.

You were at a loss for words, they were all being fucked out of you. All you could do was moan and shout Wolffe's name. He knew you were seconds from falling over the edge based on how your whole body started shaking.

You glanced at Sinker long enough to see he now had his cock in hand, jerking off to the sounds you were making. Wolffe pulled your face back to look at him.

"I wanna see you come, kitten. C'mon, cum for your Commander," he urged.

With a few more thrusts you were pushed over the edge, the pleasure surging throughout you, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream that your lungs just couldn't produce. Wolffe came seconds after, grunting and growling as he shot his seed within the confines of your warm constricting walls.

He gently laid himself on top of you, your foreheads resting together as you came down from bliss. You cupped his cheek lovingly and Wolffe nuzzled into your touch, finally pressing a long awaited kiss to your lips. He slowly pulled out and did his best to clean up the mess he made of you.

A near silent curse reminded you both that Sinker was still in the room. You looked over to find that he had cum into his hand. You sat up on the desk and whispered a question into Wolffe's ear.

"Sure, kitten, you were good. I'll tell him," he answered. You beamed and pulled your panties back on.

"Sinker come here," Wolffe requested, "my girl wants to clean you up."

He flinched before standing up and walking wobbly over to the desk. You spun around in your sitting position to face Sinker, taking his fingers and licking them clean of his essence.

Wolffe sat back in his chair after making himself presentable again. He watched proudly as his woman helped his brother. He couldn't help reaching over and running his hand over her waist.

Sinker watched with wide eyes as she cleaned up his fingers, staring in awe. He tucked himself away once she was done and looked between the two of you.

"Commander, if you don't mind my asking, where did you find her? I want one."

#star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #sergeant sinker #clone trooper boost

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 12

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,815ish

Summary: You are still trying to cope with the fact that Steve’s married. (Read note at the end of the chapter.)

I do not own Grey’s Anatomy or Marvel.

You and Natasha eventually found your way back to your house and into your bedroom’s adjoining bathroom. Natasha was in the bathtub as you laid on the floor.

“It's not us. It's them,” you said. “Them and their stupid boy penises. They didn't tell me they had a wife. They gave absolutely no warning that they were going to break up with you.”

“It's not that Banner broke up with me,” Natasha began. “It's how he broke up with me. Like it was business. Like it was a business transition like he's the boss of me!”

“He is the boss of you.”

“And what's worse is that I care.”

"I'm gonna throw up again.” You moved so that you were leaned over the toilet bowl. "No. Wait. False alarm.”

“Look, the problem is estrogen.”

“No, the problem is tequila.”

“I used to be all business, and then he goes and gets me pregnant.”

“With the stupid boy penis.”

“Now, I'm having hormone surges. He ruined me. I'm ruined. He turned me into this fat, stupid, pregnant girl. Who cares! Estrogen!”

Having heard the commotion from your bathroom, Val, Scott, and Clint found themselves standing in the doorway.

“Penises,” you stated. “Penises Val.”

“Estrogen, Scott. Estrogen,” Nat added.

“Okay…” Scott said, looking around. “What did I miss?”

“I came home to full on vomit drama,” Val explained. “Apparently she dumped Derek and her—“ Val pointed Nat’s way. “She’s been sleeping with Banner!”

“What?”

“So you really broke up with Rogers?” Clint asked.

“I feel empty,” you responded.

“Two hours of vomiting will do that to you,” Val said with a shrug.

“You’re lucky,” Nat added. “I feel pissed off.”

~~~

Arriving in the parking garage, you could clearly see Steve waiting for you. Getting out of your car, you slammed the door as he came closer.

“Stop,” you growled at him.

“What?” Steve questioned, pretending to be all innocent.

“You're stalking me. Stop it.” You continued into the building with Steve following you.

“Did we not communicate last night?”

“Yes.”

“Did you hear what I was saying?”

“Your wife screwed your best friend.”

“And then from that point on she no longer existed to me anymore.”

“You had marital amnesia?”

“No.” Steve reached out and grabbed your arm, successfully stopping you. “Come on I bared my soul to you last night.”

“It's not enough.”

“How can that be not enough?”

“When you waited 2 months to tell me and I had to find out by her showing up, all leggy and fabulous and telling me herself, you pulled the plug. I'm a sink with an open drain. Anything that you say runs right out. There is no enough.” You pulled away hurrying inside with your friends after you.

“She probably could've picked a better metaphor,” Clint commented.

“Give her a break,” Scott said. “She’s got a hangover.”

With a huff, Steve followed. Tony, who was also coming in, quickly caught up to him.

“Dr. Rogers!” He called.

“Dr. Stark,” Steve replied.

“We have an organ donor coming in this afternoon. We're doing a harvest.”

“Commendable, but—“

“In OR one at four.”

“I’m in OR one at four.”

“Your surgery is non-critical.”

“You can’t bump me!”

“As Chief, I can. You’ll be first up tomorrow.”

“Interim Chief. Bump somebody else!”

“You’re in the OR we need.”

“Why can’t the harvest be done somewhere else?”

“Cause the donor’s coming in from a small facility. We have the location, the airport nearby and the staff. Your surgery is rescheduled.” Then Tony turned, heading away.

“I’m not done talking about this, Stark!”

“Well, I am! See ya around Rogers!”

~~~

Rounds weren’t too bad, especially because you successfully ignored both Peggy and Steve. It even became slightly better when Gamora called you in for a bowel obstruction. Except the guy wouldn’t tell you what he ingested.

“You know, Mr. Sanders, it would be easier if you just told us what you ingested,” you pried, taking him to radiology. “We’ll know anyone, once we see the films.”

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Mr. Sanders responded.

“Mr. Sanders, whatever you’ve ingested could kill you. Are you sure you don’t just want to tell me?”

“It might offend you.”

“It might? Is it drugs?”

“No.”

“Mr. Sanders.”

“It’s not drugs, I promise.”

“Well, good, I’m glad.”

“I… Nope, not going to tell you.”

“Fine by me. We just reached radiology, so I’m going to find out anyway.”

It wasn’t long before Mr. Sanders was back in his room and the radiologist had found you with the scans.

“It’s drugs,” the radiologist stated handing the scans over to you. “Looks like at least 13 small balloons in the bowel. My guess, cocaine.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, holding up the scans up to the light.

They didn’t totally look like balloons, so you weren’t completely convinced. Before you made any judgement calls, you found Gamora.

“It’s drugs,” you told her, handing her the scans.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered, placing the scans onto a screen. “One burst and he’s dead in minutes. Okay, what do we do?”

“Run his bowel.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Running the bowel entails removing all 36 feet of the intestine from the body cavity, hand searching for the balloons and then cutting them out.”

“Good. Book an OR and get two other interns on board, need all the hands we can get.”

“Dr. Gamora,” Y/N called as Gamora tired to leave.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure they’re balloons?”

“You have reason to believe they’re not?”

“Well, the more I look the more I realize that this one,” you pointed to the scans, “has a face.” Gamora looked closer. “And this one… they all do.”

“I’ll be damned. They’re Barbies. He swallowed 13 Barbie doll heads.”

~~~

“Barbie heads?” Scott repeated after you told him, Natasha, and Peter what happened.

“Yeah,” you responded. “And Gamora wants two of you to join us in surgery.”

“I’m already booked.”

“I can do it,” Natasha said.

“Me too,” Peter said.

“My foster mothers used to buy me Barbie dolls. All sorts of them.”

“I also wanted one,” you added. “My parents never let me.”

“I dissected them. Cut off their arms, shaved their heads.”

“You’re a little scary,” Scott stated. “You know that?”

“I try.”

“Sounds like there’s a sick and twisted story behind this,” Peter said.

“No, they’re sexist, distorted devil toys that create unrealistic expectations carrying to the porn driven minds of men,” Natasha expressed.

“You swallow a bitter pill this morning, Romanoff?” Gamora questioned, coming up to you interns. “They’re just dolls. Quill, call for a psych consult. Then see if he has family.”

“Should I still book the OR?” You wondered.

“Blocked bowels become necrotic bowels. Check with Dr. Stark, see if we can bump someone. Those Barbies gotta come out today.”

~~~

Gamora had given Clint the impossible assignment to revive a patient. And, unfortunately for him, he was stuck with Laura.

“Any family members waiting?” He asked as he stapled up the man’s chest.

“Still trying to reach them,” Laura responded.

“Good. Well, I mean, not good that we haven’t reached anyone. Good that I don’t have to, uh…”

“It’s always hard.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry about Peter.”

“It’s fine. It’s good. No need to talk about it.”

“You do understand that I had sex with him before you, not during, right? Because when you and I were together—“

“I understand.”

“I just wanted to clear the air.”

“Oh, it’s clear. Perfectly clear… okay.”

“Okay.”

“And about the syphilis—“

“We really on’t have to talk about it.”

“Which is, I mean, I didn’t know I had it. I definitely should have, I’m a nurse. Like, there was a sore and I was all itchy.”

“Okay!” He backed away almost knocked the tray beside him over. “You know I, uh, got it. You know things happen.” He moved to the door, away from Laura.

“They really do. Things you wish you could change.”

Clint’s pager rang and he looked down. “It’s the Chief, I gotta take this.”

“Sure… Clint.”

“Yes?”

“You have to call it.”

“Call it?”

“Him.”

“Oh, yeah.” He looked at his watch. “Time of death 1:37.” He turned to leave again.

“And, Clint,” he paused, not turning around this time, “if we could, I wouldn’t mind trying again.”

“Maybe… some day…”

~~~

Tony was walking down the hall with Maria, going over the donor surgery.

“When is the donor getting here?” He asked.

“Should be here at 3. Harvest team’s not heir way in.”

“I also need to touch base with the transplant center about a patient here getting his son’s liver.”

You walked up. “Dr. Stark,” you called. “Dr. Gamora needs an OR and they’re all booked.”

“For?”

“An emergent bowel obstruction.” She handed him the scans.

“Drugs?”

“Barbie heads. 13 of them.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Maria looked at the films. “I can see their little faces,” she commented. “That patient must have serious issues.”

“Hill, can your hernia in 1 be bumped?” Tony asked.

“Most likely.”

“Do it.”

“On it.” Maria left.

“Thank you, Dr. Stark,” you said, moving to go.

Tony grabbed your wrist and stopped you. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not. I’m really fine.” And you pulled away.

~~~

You, Gamora, and a doctor from psych were currently discussing the psych evaluation on Mr. Sanders.

“He’s not talking. It could be pica,” the psych doctor stated. “Doubtful for a man his age. Maybe an oedipal complex or an idolization of the doll as his partners. Or it could be that he simply enjoys it.”

“Now I've seen a lot of strange things in strange places but how does he enjoy this?” Gamora questioned.

“He’d enjoy it when they came out.”

“I didn’t need to hear that.”

“Dr. L/N,” Peggy called as she walked back. “May I speak with you for a moment?” You looked at Gamora for help.

“Don’t look at me. I’m not gonna help you.”

With a sigh, you went to Peggy and the two of you began walking away.

“I assume he told you why he left me,” she said.

Annoyed, you stopped in front of her. “Look, Dr. Rogers, will all do respect, this has nothing to do with me,” you said.

“Really? So you didn’t take him back. Good girl.”

“And int he future, I’d appreciate it if we could keep our relationship strictly professional.” You walked away.

“Y/N!” You stopped and turned back slightly to give Peggy your attention. “Sometimes people do desperate things to get someone’s attention.” You shook your head and started walking again. “There are two sides to every story!”

~~~

You, Peter, and Scott arrived at lunch first. The three of you picked a large table farthest away from the others.

“Look what I went out and got,” Peter said, putting a grocery bag on the table. Opening the bag, he revealed 13 headless Barbie dolls.

“Really, Quill?” You wondered.

“That’s gross,” Scott cringed.

“I think it’s funny,” Peter said, smiling, as he laid them out on the table.

“Of course you do,” you muttered.

“Oh! That is sick!” Clint commented as him, Natasha, and Val walked up.

“Who would do that?” Val asked. They looked to see Peter smiling.

“Oh, look!” Natasha said, picking up a doll. “See Barbie fly.” She throw it at Peter, who ducked.

“Hey, Clint,” Laura greeted, walking by.

“Hey,” he replied, sitting down at not looking at you. The interns all gave him a look. “What?”

“She was trying to make up with you, Clint,” you told him. “You should go eat with her.”

“No, I shouldn’t…. No.”

“She’s cute and she likes you,” Scott said.

“You shouldn’t let a little syph get in the way of that,” Val added.

“It’s not the syph,” Clint insisted.

“It’s so the syph,” Natasha said.

“It’s not the syph!”

“Then what is it?” Val asked. Clint didn’t answer, looking down. “Oh.”

“What?” You wondered. Clint simply shrugged. “What is it?”

“There’s this other girl,” Val responded.

“Val!” Clint exclaimed.

“Other girl?” Natasha questioned. “You have another girl?!”

“He hasn’t told her that he likes her yet,” Val said.

“Val!” Clint exclaimed again. “This isn’t high school.”

“Clint has a little crush.”

“I do not… It’s a thing, a very personal thing. One day I would like to build on this thing with this other girl—woman. She’s all woman.”

“What are you doing, Clint?” You asked, slightly harsh.

“I-I don’t—“

“With Laura. What are you doing with her?”

“Oh. Nothing.”

“You’re letting her think you’re emotionally available. You’re letting her think she has a chance. And there is nothing worse in the world than think you have a chance when you really don’t!”

“Y/N is right,” Natasha said. “Tell her that there’s someone else. And tell her why, Clint. I mean— I mean at least give her the chance to have some feelings about it!”

“Why are you both yelling at me?” Clint asked.

“Because of the estrogen Clint! Because of all the estrogen!”

~~~

“Was it an act of desperation?” You asked Mr. Sanders as you headed into his surgery.

“Not at all,” he replied.

“Something to attract attention?”

“No.”

“I’m just trying to understand here. Why 13 doll heads?”

“Well because 14 would’ve been too much.”

You cringed and helped the nurses get Mr. Sanders on the operating table before going to scrub. It was Gamora, you, Peter, Val, and Natasha in the surgery.

“I think it has something to do with his mother,” Val suggested. “Maybe she always wanted a girl and gave him Barbie dolls because of it.”

“Ah, ah, I’ve got another one,” Peter said, showing the head in the intestine.

“Uh!” You groaned.

“Doyen clamps to Romanoff,” Gamora ordered. “L/N, push the head up to the incision.” You began to squeeze the doll head up through the intestine.

“Maybe his mother looked like a Barbie doll and he’s into voodoo,” Peter suggested. “Instead of sticking pins in… well…”

Dr. Stark entered the OR. “You good here?” He asked Gamora, observing you though.

“Couple more heads to go,” Gamora responded.

“Then L/N stay here. All you other interns I need you on other cases.”

You met Tony’s eyes before he walked out of the OR.

~~~

Clint was put on a case with Steve. They were about to go separate ways so that Clint could run labs, when Steve stopped. He looked back at Clint.

“Is she okay?” Steve asked.

“Who?” Clint questioned. He looked up at Steve and knew. “Y/N? She’s… hanging in there.”

“Look out for her.”

“I will.”

Then Steve walked away. Before Clint could get really far, Laura found him.

“The family of the guy we worked on this morning is here,” she told him.

“Thanks for letting me know,” Clint responded.

“Clint, I just want an answers, so that I can get on with my life if I need to.”

“Look, maybe I’m not over the Peter thing yet or the syph thing… And I really want to be, but there’s also another girl. And, to me, it doesn’t matter there’s this other guy and frankly I wouldn’t care if she gave me the Ebola virus… I like you, Laura, I really do. Just… I—“

“You’re going to need some time.”

“Yeah.” He kissed her forehead. “Thank you for understanding.”

~~~

Steve was standing alone in the elevator when Peggy walked in, both dressed to leave.

“Just when the day was improving,” he murmured.

“You told Y/N what happened?” Peggy asked.

“I did. Why? What did you tell her?”

“That sometimes people do desperate things to attract attention.”

“What? Wow. That's your side of this? That I didn't pay you enough attention. Is that you were thinking when you got naked with my best friend?”

Peggy reached over and stopped the elevator. "No, by that point I wasn't thinking at all Steve. By that point I was just scratching an itch. We got successful you and me. We got busy and we got lazy. We didn't even bother to fight any more Steve. And Bucky was there and I missed you. And now I'm sorry.” Steve restarted the elevator. “I’m more sorry than you can possibly imagine. But at least I'm talking to you about it.” The doors opened and Steve walked out. “Steve.”

“I’m a sink with an open drain, honey.”

~~~

“Did you get them all?” Mr. Sanders asked. You were checking on him, post-surgery.

“Yes,” you replied. “It wasn’t easy or very pleasant. How do you feel?”

“Empty… I feel empty now.”

“Yeah. I've been feeling a little bit of that myself lately.”

“I can tell.”

“Mr. Sanders, why does eating doll heads fill you up? What’s the satisfaction?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Would it be too much information?”

“Might.”

“Maybe I’m better left in the dark.”

next chapter >

I leave for Disney World in a week. It is the last big family vacation that I will be on for a while. Because of that, I will not be on tumblr March 19th through March 24th. I will actually be deleting the app so that it’s not a distraction.

Most likely, nothing will be posted during that time. If something is, it will have been queued up. Things that are posted while I’m out of town will not have tag lists attached. I will put this note in all the fic posts until then.

So do not come at me for spending time with my family instead of including the tag list. (I say that knowing that people won’t care and still come at me.... be respectful and get over yourself.)

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rodgers x reader #steve rodgers imagine #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #greys anatomy au #Marvel AU #marvel fanfiction

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shoichee · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can I perhaps ask for no. 28. “Make me” from your prompt list for my beloved Imayoshi? It's so nice seeing him here on your theme and avatar and that pERFECT url, it feels like I finally found my people.

HELLO HELLO, and YES I WAS SO SURPRISED THAT NO ONE TOOK THIS URL... considering that it was just an alternative spelling of shoichi and its a rlly short handle too mwehe // im sort of a particular person when it comes to how something looks, whether itd be outfits, drawings, coloring, and the UI of a blog, u name it.... i may have spent hours trying to have the perfect colors for this theme PLEASEEEE, but without further ado here is our man, our little shit, Imayoshi

@knb-kreations howdy! another new work posted here!

Imayoshi x Reader

28. “Make me”

Word Count: 2331

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

Imayoshi doesn’t exactly know how he feels about you.

Scratch that, he does know. He’s quite amused at the shenanigans you pull on others around you, and a lot of times, you actually elicit a few dry laughs out of the guy. Other times though, he’d wish that you would just shut the fuck up, especially when all he hears amidst his studying was your loud “whispering” and “hushed” jokes. How you were always nearby no matter where he is was still a mystery that he casually ponders about from time to time. Perhaps your natural tendency to project your voice creates the illusion that you were near when you really weren’t?

No matter, such trivial thoughts can’t occupy his mind when college entrance exams loom closer. Then again, they weren’t particularly difficult; they were simply a hassle to secure near-perfect scores, especially when his chances of admittance rely critically on how well he does.

“That’s an awful drawing of a samurai,” Susa comments, snapping Imayoshi out of idle thought.

“Ho? Is it really terrible if you were able to tell what it is?” Imayoshi chuckles. “The point of a drawing is to convey the right idea or emotion. It seems that my drawing skills hit a bulls-eye with this sketch, no?” He playfully spins his pencil around, patiently waiting for his reply to goad him.

All Susa does in response is to roll his eyes before he turns his full attention back to his notes. He knows better than to try a comeback against Imayoshi, who can easily make it backfire against the person with a pleasant close-eyed smile. Imayoshi, seeing Susa’s nonverbal resign from engaging further banter, also looks down back to his book of scribbled notes and chicken-scratch drawings before he exhales an inaudible sigh.

School just doesn’t cut out to be mentally stimulating for him. It’s a little too repetitive and mundane for his taste.

“Argh!! Oh no!” your voice rang out, despite your poor attempt to be reasonably quiet. “I forgot applications for the Coca-Cola scholarship are due today!”

Coca-Cola… what?

Everyone looks up to warily eye you, and your few friends, who are currently rushing to pull you down and slap their hands over your mouth to mute you, were panicking at the new attention you managed to garner. Even still, your mind seems more fixated on whatever was on the laptop’s screen, rather than what they were doing to you.

Imayoshi can’t help but stifle his audible mirth from how you manage to change the mood of the entire library within seconds.

“How do you even forget something as important as a huge scholarship like that?” Susa says in dismay. “Makes me kind of wonder how (l/n) would handle life after graduation, to be honest.”

“Well,” Imayoshi begins. “I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s best not to underestimate (l/n)-san. Surely we’ve learned our lesson with Seirin?” He toys with the pencil grip before he sporadically draws some lines loosely resembling another sketch.

“Drawing again?” Susa raises a brow. “Have you even been studying?”

“Well,” he replies. “There’s still plenty of time before exams—months to be exact. Could you even study with the current distractions in here?” At his own words, he nudges his chin in your direction.

“It’s not just any exams though, it’s—”

“Whether they have more importance or not doesn’t really concern me. After all, standardized testing isn’t worth stressing out for when we’ve taken essentially the same thing all our lives.”

“What most are worried about is the content inside the exams, Imayoshi,” he said, carefully treading into dangerous waters with Imayoshi’s tendency to take all replies as mind-game challenges for his own amusement.

“‘If you have been paying attention consistently throughout the year, you wouldn’t be having much trouble…’ that’s what you once oh-so-wisely said to Wakamatsu yesterday, hmm?” His mimicking tone drips a hint of arrogance. “Unless you mean to tell me my ears do not work? But by all means, please feel free to correct me.”

“That’s different,” he sighed, his face clearly evident that he was done with Imayoshi’s shit. “That exam only tested content for the past year, not your entire academic repertoire over the courses of middle and high school.”

“I’d like to think that the logic still applies the same way.”

“Well,” Susa heaves with a languid stretch. “You generally score better on the exams than me, so you’re probably right. Still, don’t neglect your studying.”

“Right, right, Susa-senpai~”

“... Please don’t call me that again.”

“... If you say so,” he said, but his smile blatantly showed his real intentions of never stopping his irritable quips. Susa gets ready to pack up his book bag before he heads out the door with a friendly wave. Imayoshi half-heartedly returns the gesture with a casual wave of his own. He immediately notices you also packed up and about to leave with a worried frown, and of course, while audibly mumbling your concerns and makeshift schedules to accommodate time for last-minute essay writing. By now, all of your friends have left for home.

“Ah, biology lab due next week, kanji worksheets due tomorrow, hmm, um, how would I finish this on time… ah, calculus test is tomorrow too, ah shit… should I ask someone to tutor?—ah, but it’s super last minute, and there’s still that scholarship… argh, fuck!” Your voice peaked in volume at the end, and the librarian immediately shot daggers at you.

“Shhhhh!”

“A-Ah! S-Sorry, sorry!”

Imayoshi was watching you with his chin on his arm propped up on the desk, unable to control the smile that escaped his lips. You really were entertaining to watch, and you never cease to bore him.

He turns away to crack his neck and roll it around before methodically packing up his writing utensils and notebooks. Soft shuffling filled the air as he rearranged the items inside his bag. As he turns to pack the last thing on the table, which happened to be the notebook filled with his idle doodling, his face slightly softens at the drawing he did after the samurai. Yes, the one Susa chastised him for when he could’ve been studying. Yes, perhaps he was right when he was terrible at drawing after all; your panicked face and wild hand gestures didn’t really translate well into paper, and it looked a little too much like a horror comic and less than a sketch of you. Still, he’s oddly proud of it.

Imayoshi promptly pushes the chair in and leaves the library, but when he rounds the corner of the adjacent hallway, he bumps into you.

“Er—hi! I mean, please, uhhh… if it isn’t too much to ask—canyoupleasetutormeforthecalculustesttomorrowbecausemyfinalgradedependsonthat?”

Imayoshi winces at the sheer volume of your voice and plugs his ears in out of habit to block out some of the decibels. Wakamatsu was eerily similar to you in that regard. Only difference between the two of you was that you were deceptively intelligent. Extremely so.

“My, my, if it isn’t (l/n)-senpai!” He fakes a surprised look, earning him an eye roll on your end. “You need someone like me to teach you the works?”

“I—what? We’re literally in the same calc class, Imayoshi,” you retort. “Besides, drop the ‘senpai’ honorific. It feels so slimy when you say it so disingenuously… Aren’t we both 3rd years too?”

“I’m so hurt,” he mocks. “What if I was really genuine with you?”

“Look, right now, no remarks from you, Evil Glasses,” you say. “It’s really, really urgent and I don’t know how to grasp the material for the class lately, plus my essay, ugh…” You rub your fingers against your temples in an attempt to make the stressful headaches disappear while Imayoshi simply watches with his eyes slightly open.

“... You usually do well on all your exams, no? Unless my eyes and memory fail me.” It was true; even though you were as loud-mouthed as Wakamatsu, you would often shock a lot of people when your name always appeared in the higher percentiles of exam results. Apparently most students and teachers associate your rowdy personality with an expected subpar academic performance. He has you to thank for when your score reports always cause reactions of utter disbelief from the teachers. You really do liven up the school and make it a lot more unorthodox.

“I guess…” you mumble. “But I really wanna do especially well for this one because math is my weakest subject, and you always score the highest for these types of exams, so…”

“It may be my best subject,” he says, leaning slightly closer to your face. “But I’m not the one with the highest scores in any math subjects throughout these years, and we both know that quite well, don’t we, (l/n)? Why don’t you come clean about the real reason why you’re here?”

“Oh my literal fuck—Imayoshi, you’re one of the best students in calc right now regardless of exam results,” you petulantly huffed, not backing down from his intimidation. Imayoshi notes your cheeks reddening, and he figured it was either because of the close proximity between your faces or the fact you were frustrated… perhaps both. “And you’re the only one around here on campus who I could ask!”

“Really now,” he chimes, moving closer to whisper in your ear. “Are you sure?” With incoherent stammers, you backed away from him, slapping your hands against both of your ears to protect them.

“W-W-What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Looks like I won this one, (l/n)-san,” he purrs, relishing the fact that only he could render you this quiet. “Ho? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“I—Shut up!” you lamely shoot back. “You can just say no if you really don’t wanna do this—urgh, I’m leaving, I’m not gonna waste any more time—”

“How hurtful,” he dryly remarks, standing up straight again after leaning for a quite a while. “It’s almost as if you’re rejecting me~” He knew you would always take his bait and quip back (unlike Susa), regardless of whether or not you tell him that you weren’t going to engage further.

“As if,” you snorted, making another exaggerated eye roll. “You’re the last person who would ever be hurt from this.”

“Dear me!” he exclaims. “Have you ever considered that perhaps I don’t help out people for free? Did you think I would be a gracious, selfless person who would help you like a saint?”

“Okay, fine! Perhaps I didn’t think that far ahead, okay? You just were the first person that came to mind, and I thought asking you wouldn’t hurt.” His smirk widens almost maliciously at your words, lips already opening to deliver another irritating quip before you immediately spoke again to stop him. “Okay, Imayoshi, you little shit, just shut up—I don’t wanna hear anything from your mouth right now.”

“I don’t see any reason why I should listen to you at all,” he muses. “Why don’t you make me?” He has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, eagerly eyeing your next move, and as he expected, you let out a frustrated noise that prompted passerby students to shoot pointed looks towards the both of you.

What he didn’t expect was for you to take a huge step towards him, unceremoniously pull him down to your level, and press a reverberating smack on his lips. His eyes are immediately blown wide open to look at your embarrassed, but determined face. His fingers unconsciously move to touch his warmed lips.

“... That was quite romantic, wasn’t it, (l/n)?” he dryly says, recovering almost immediately from the shock. All the other students fled from the blatantly bold scene to save face. Not that Imayoshi really cared.

“Okay, you know what? Bye, I’m not gonna play anymore mind games with you,” you grumble. “Essays and studying aren’t gonna be done by themselves—wah!”

Imayoshi gently tugs you back to reciprocate back a kiss, meticulously slipping his hands behind your head and on your waist to accommodate you. Your eyes are completely open from the shock that the Imayoshi Shoichi was actually kissing you. You don’t close your eyes from the sensation, completely entranced when you make eye contact with his half-lidded eyes watching your every reaction closely. The kiss ended all too soon, and Imayoshi separates himself from you, secretly admiring your dazed look.

“That was quite a strong reaction to just a simple kiss.”

“I—that was not just a ‘simple kiss!’”

“Now would you like to tell me the true reason why you approached me?”

“You’re… insinuating that you know something.”

“Well we wouldn’t know unless you come clean,” Imayoshi purrs. “I can sometimes be wrong too.”

“Ugh, what the hell—fine, I am quite enamored by you, and uh, I… find it infuriating to be with you, but it also gives me butterflies… so I thought I could be with you more… if I asked you—don’t get it twisted, though! I still need your help to study!...” He covers his mouth to suppress a laugh at your honesty.

“Was it really so hard to say that in the beginning, (l/n)-san?”

“Okay, that’s it! I’m really, really leaving! Fuck off, Imayoshi, I swear to—”

“Ho? Just a minute, darling~” he tuts, reaching to hold your hand. “Perhaps if you offer more kisses as an incentive, I’d be more inclined to offer my expertise.”

“How quaint,” you dryly reply. “It’s almost as if we’re in a relationship.”

Imayoshi can’t help but bark out a genuine laugh. You even managed to pick up some of his mannerisms so quickly.

“That’s an interesting proposal, (l/n),” he murmurs. “Should we try that?” You tut at him irritatedly as you tug your interlocked hands while speed-walking ahead.

“Hurry up, or I’ll consider breaking up with you right now.”

“Ah ha!~” he chuckles at your attitude. “How mean, (l/n)-san! Too bad that we both know that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

#ask #narnvaeron #knb #knb scenarios #kuroko no basket #imayoshi shouichi #imayoshi shoichi #imayoshi x reader #imayoshi #knb fic #knb fluff #100 followers #100 follower milestone

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lizzielikeborden · 3 years

Text

A Return and A Promise

Can u do 11, 19 n 20 with five from list 1

#11- "Did you decorate the tree without me? I can't believe this!"

#19- "...well, there are worse ways my Christmas could've ended."

#20- "I can't believe you did that to Santa..."

Authors Note: This is one of the most wild requests I have ever gotten and it took all of my creativity to think of how I wanted to write this. Please remember Five is like Captain America, old man in a young body.

December 24th 2020

“HOW DO I KEEP MISSING!” You shifted your 3ft tree again and attempted to plug in the lights once more. You took in a few deep breaths and crawled on the floor again finally finding the wall plug and plugged in the lights. The tree was all but done except for the ornaments. It took you forever to even put it together the tree itself because of it’s wide branches and fluffy pines. That made it so difficult to even fit the tree pieces together.

When you opened the box of ornaments they were all wrapped in news paper. You carefully took them out one by one and organized them onto the tree. Then you reached the bottom, the news paper was the same day that you last heard Five’s voice,

“I promise I’ll come back for you.”

His voice played in your head as you unwrapped the ornament. It was a clay heart connected with a small string. The heart read “5 x 0= 0″ Five gave it to you as a going away present. You didn’t exactly know the reason behind it because you never got to ask. But just like last Christmas, it was right front and center on the tree. You then hung up your stocking on one of the bed poles and the one you made for Five on the other. Putting up the most important decorations was never something that happened so late in the month but for the second Christmas in a row you tried to wait on Five. With a sigh you laid on your stomach across the bed. Outside it sounded like a storm had picked up, wind moved through your blinds and made you cold. It had been a nice day so were not sure why the weather was so bad so fast. Then you heard voices coming from outside the house, but you assumed it was just neighbors. With a sigh you moved into a more comfortable sleeping position and wrapped a blanket around yourself. As you began to drift into sleep you heard strong wind right next to your window and then very hard pounding followed.

‘What on earth could that be?’ You thought to yourself as you neared the blinds. Your breath hitched as your fingers danced along the string and down to the bead on the end. You shut your eyes, turned your head, held your breath and pulled up the blinds. Another pound sounded into your room from the window. When you opened on eye carefully you saw a dark haired boy with the reflection of Christmas lights on his skin. But with both your eyes opened you saw Five with snow sprinkled in his dark hair. You gasped and opened the window as fast as possible, you stuck outa a hand for him to take and guided him into your room from the window. Once he was all the way in you ran to your door, shut, and locked it not wanting your parents to find you and your boyfriend hanging out late at night.

"Did you decorate the tree without me? I can't believe this!" He walked close to the tree and touched the ornament he made you.

You ran and hugged him as tight as you could. You felt the air leave his body in shock as he slowly moved his hands onto your back and arms around your body.

“Yes I did decorate the tree without you because it’s Christmas soon and I didn’t know when you were coming back.” You mumbled into his shoulder as you rested your head.

“I promised you-” He spoke and you pulled out of the hug.

“That you’d come back for me.” You quoted him and pressed your foreheads together.

“How long as it been?” Five asked.

“Only a year and a month. Why?” Shock sat on his face.

“Only a year and a month?” He took a step back from you still keeping one of your hands in his.

“ONLY?” You playfully smacked his arm.

“Well where I was it’s been over 2 years and I survived another apocalypse.” He raised his shoulders. He walked around you and took a seat on your bed. You followed him over and took a seat next to him and put a head on his shoulder.

“Can you not carry doomsday everywhere you go?” You joked at him.

“Wouldn’t that be nice.” I let out a tired sigh.

“Thank you for pulling a Peter Parker and showing up outside my house all icky and dirty.” You picked up his hand and saw how much dirt and blood he had all over him.

He scoffed and looked down over at you,

“Wow Five thanks for not dying in another apocalypse and keeping your promise I love you so much.” He spoke in his best impression of you.

You laughed at him and then remembered how you never got to know what the ornament was supposed to mean.

“Hey, what does that ornament you made mean?”

“5 x 0 = 0.”

“I know what it says. But what does it mean?”

“I’m the Five that is me. The X is us and the 0 is me without you. So 5 x 0 is 0. I’m nothing without you.” He mumbled and grumbled his way through the sentence obviously not wanting to sound what he considered gross.

You smiled and held one of his hands again,

“Stay the night.” You yawned.

“I am disgustingly dirty and you have parents.” He gave you a logical response.

Instead of agreeing with him you rolled over onto him and laid on him.

“No. Y/n it’s late and I can’t stay I promise I’ll come back tomorrow.”

He got no response, “Y/n.” Five shook you a bit. He looked at you and realized how happy and asleep you were. He let out a frustrated sigh and just kept his arms around you. He rolled both of you over and with one arm he pulled a blanket over the two of you. He smiled at you. A real genuine smile even though you couldn’t see it. He kissed your forehead and eventually fell asleep.

December 25th 2020 5:00AM

“Y/N.” You heard your name and groaned in an attempt to go back to sleep.

“Y/N!” Five shook you a bit and took you by both your arms as he helped you sit up right.

“What?” Your eyes were barely open.

“I need to go home and shower.” He moved from his position in the bed and sat on the edge.

“Fine but how about we meet at the coffee shop across the street at 9:00 AM so you can get your caffeine fix and see me at the same time.”

“That sounds fantastic.” He got out of bed and gave you a little wave and disappeared. You went back to bed and missed his warmth.

December 25th 2020 9:15AM

“Shit!” You ran around your room and tried to find decent clothes. You tripped down the stairs and waved your family bye. The snow was pouring outside in big flakes, and of course it was sticking to everything including your vehicle. After getting some of the snow off the windshield and off the doors and door window. But when you unlocked the car it wasn’t opening. It was clear that ice was stuck between between the door and you. After kicking and punching at the door it wouldn’t open. So you gave up and walked over to the shop. Opening the door your hand was so cold against the doorknob you could barely feel it. As you stepped into the shop the smell of coffee hit your nose and the warm air stung.

“Y/n? Where’s your car? Why did you walk here? Do you know how cold it is outside?” Five walked over to you and took off your soggy jacket and put his on you. You sat across from each other in the booth, he drank his coffee and told you crazy stories about his time in the 60s as you sat and got warm.

“Today’s Christmas.” You commented.

“It is.” Five sipped his coffee.

“I think we should go meet Santa.” You giggled at his confused expression as he put his mug back on the table.

“Who?”

“Santa. Like Claus. Big fat man in red that comes down your chimney and gives you gifts.”

“An obese old white man? Those are everywhere.” Five commented.

“Yeah well this one is special and magical and just for that we’re going.”

Five rolled his eyes and made a face. He paid for his coffee and the two of you left. Of course you took his car and on the way there Five didn’t say much. He let you drive since he had no clue where or how to meet said Santa. But he realized that he never had a real Christmas before.

“Five? Hello?” You waved a hand in front of his face as he spaced out. You could tell he was confused and he looked upset a bit.

As you walked in it was like Christmas threw up everywhere. Candy canes, Christmas colors, trees, and it smelled like gingerbread and sugar cookies. You held Five’s hand and walked through the area. Shops lined the walls and people swarmed everywhere.

“You ready?” You nudged him a bit leaning on him.

“Just got back from the 60s and into the new age world so yes.” He responded.

The two of you walked until you spotted the big chair with Santa in it.

“You are not about to tell me the overweight man in all red sitting on the throne is Santa.” He pointed and shook his head.

“Oh yes. It is Santa.” You looked at his face. He looked mildly disgusted and concerned. “Now cmon.”

You dragged him up to Santa and Santa started talking.

“Ho ho ho, who are you young man?”

“I’m Five.”

“You look a little older than 5 but that’s alright ho ho. Come, sit on my lap.”

“Excuse me.” He looked at Santa like he was insane.

“Sit down and tell me what you want for Christmas.”

Five turned around and gave you a look as you tried not to hold in laughter.

He walked up to Santa and sat on his knee.

“Now what do you want for Christmas young man?”

“No more doomsday, less chances of dying, and less chaos would be nice.” Five answered him sarcastically as he watched you laugh so hard your face turned bright red. Santa just looked at him like he was insane and he couldn’t even say any jolly catchphrases.

Five got up and patted Santa on the shoulder nodding his head. He walked down from the chair and held your hand again whilst you laughed,

"I can't believe you did that to Santa... You took away his joy.”

“He asked me what I wanted.” Five said in a defensive manner as if what he did was normal.

“You were supposed to say a toy firetruck or something.”

“What I do with a toy firetruck?”

You could not quit laughing at him as you squeezed his hand and walked with him. He broke into a small smile, but a real one and you kissed his cheek. That day you went to lunch at one of Five’s favorite restaurant, walked around stores for hours also avoiding poor Santa, and since it was getting dark you suggested hanging out around the park until the Christmas lights were on. Of course the snow was still coming down and about 4 inches had gained onto the ground.

“Hey, wanna take a walk?” You asked him.

“It’s freezing and snowing.”

“It’s Christmas.” You gave him a pouty face. He sighed and parked at the park and got an umbrella out of the trunk.

The two of you took off down a snowy path. Everything was icy and draped in a white blanket. Five’s all black attire and umbrella as an accessory stood out. You walked next to him and distracted him with a story as you gathered snow off of tree branches as you walked making a ball in your hand.

“Hey wanna play a game?” You asked.

“Sure why not.”

You stood back from him and he saw the ball of snow in your hand but didn’t say anything out of confusion. You threw the ball and it hit his jacket laughing, he made a ball and threw it back. After a few minutes of throwing them back and forth Five disappeared into thin air and appeared behind you and shook a tree branch over your head.

“Unfair!” You yelped and turned around. You tackled him to the ground and wrestled with him gently giving him his snow back and added more on.

“Okay MERCY IT’S FREEZING.” He waved a ball of snow in his hand like a white flag.

You sat up and pulled him up with you. He stood and pulled you up from the ground as he collected himself. He got his umbrella and held it over both heads.

“Now what is that gonna do?” You asked.

“Protect us from the snow.”

“Sweetheart we are covered in snow.” You shook his jacket sleeve and you both watched snow fall off.

Once you got back in the car you took off the wet layers of clothes until you were both in the warmest clothes. You cuddled up in the back seat of the car with a blanket and took a much needed nap. Well you did at least, he held you and let you nap.

December 25th 2020 7:00PM

The lights at the park were beautiful and bright. Carolers also showed up at the gazebo and sang beautifully. Five drove the two of you around the park to look at all the beautiful lights. He looked amazed, he held your hand in one hand and steered with the other. He parked at one of the little stops.

“Hey can we talk?” Five turned towards you.

“Of course.”

“I’ve never had a real Christmas. As a child it was very all work no play except certain hours. My father truly believed that children should be seen and not heard. You deserve someone who doesn’t have nightmares every night because of mistakes that were self caused, someone who doesn’t disappear randomly and leave, someone ordinary who knows the holidays and normal ordinary things.”

“But for me this is enough. You promised me you would come back and you did. I love teaching you ordinary things and showing you how fun ordinary can be. When you are here you are always with me. You try and make me soup when i’m sick, you read me books in Greek or Shakespeare when I can’t sleep, you break into my house at night to come see me, you let me drag you around, you hum old music to me when I’m sad, and you tell amazing stories. I don’t care that you’re not ordinary, I don’t care that you disappear, and nightmares are perfectly acceptable.”

He sat dead silent but he looked directly into your eyes, though it was dark you could’ve swore you saw tears in his eyes. He reached a shaky hand out to you and you took it. He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. He didn’t say where you were going but by looking at the landmarks it seemed as if you were headed back to your house. You were correct and no cars were in your driveway. Clearly your family had gone to the other family Christmas without you which was normal. Silently, you walked back to your room. He took a seat on your bed and looked under your tree.

“What’s that?” He whispered.

You looked at what he was looking at and picked the gift up from under the small tree and handed it to him. He read his name on the name tag and flipped it over. He began to slowly peel off the tape piece by piece and then unfold the wrapping paper. Once he was finally done he revealed a coffee mug covered in Shakespeare quotes. Taped next to the cup was a book of Greek poetry. He stood up to stand with you and put his gifts down. He put his hands on both sides of your face and kissed you. Once he was done doing that he reached into his coat pocked and pulled out a small box.

“I got it at a store today.”

He handed you the box that was wrapped in news paper and tied together with a bow and ribbon. You tried copy the gentleness he showed your gift and undid the boxes casings slowly. When you opened it your heart dropped into stomach, it was a ring. A stone wrapped in a metal casing with a little card.

“Five...I” You were speechless but wanted to thank him.

“It’s a promise ring, I left for so long and I just want you to know how important you are to me. And I am so grateful for these gifts.”

He took the ring from the box and put it on your finger.

"...well, there are worse ways my Christmas could've ended." You joked in happy tears.

He snickered and pulled you into a tight warm hug. This was one of many Christmas’s you would spend with Five Hargreeves...

#five hargreeves #five imagine #five x reader #five x you #five x y/n #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves x reader #umbrella acedmy #the umbrealla academy

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woodrokiro · 3 years

Text

Do It For the Band, Part Six (fic)

Fandom: Bleach

Pairing: IchiRuki

Summary: When Tatsuki said she wanted their sophomore album to be the next Rumours, this is NOT what she meant. Band AU. Read Part One, Two, Three, Four, and Five.

Tatsuki never thought she’d live to see the day that she has to drag herself to jam with her friends.

Sure, she’s been pretty hung over on some of her work days; but she was always, always able to pull herself out of bed, pop a couple of Tylenol and be on her way to make a racket. It made no sense how she could still be giddy to beat some loud drums when she had a throbbing headache - but.

She loved it. She loved her band.

She still does… But she hates Ichigo right now.

Ichigo, who’s being a real insensitive dick. Ichigo, who went on a date with Orihime, aka her-best-friend-aka-longtime-love-of-her-life-maybe-who-knows-she-never-got-a-chance-to-find-out-cuz-of-her-dickwad-friend.

Ichigo, who is doing this as some stupid fucking vendetta against Rukia, or to forget her, or whatever the fact is being a dumbass and everyone is having to pay for it.

Needless to say: she’s worked herself up to a pretty furious state by the time she rages to practice.

She stomps over to Chad’s garage, viciously lifting the the heavy door while simultaneously (unreasonably) half expecting to be faced with the sight of Ichigo and Orihime making out -

When her eyes adjust to see into the garage, there’s none of that (thank God). They’re not even next to each other. Instead, she’s met with a very different sight.

Ichigo’s stewing in the corner, hands stuffed in his pocket and visibly grinding his teeth. Chad is sitting quietly next to him but definitely trying to blend himself into the shadows more than usual. Orihime is looking down at her hands across the room, silent and stiff.

And Rukia is plugging her phone into their speaker jack rather manically.

“Ah, good afternoon Tatsuki!” Rukia greets the drummer with a too-large, sparkling smile that she recognizes as Rukia’s favorite mask to put on when she’s pissed. The vocalist has noticeable bags under her eyes from… Lack of sleep? Crying? Who knows. Her heart cracks for her.

The pity doesn’t last long when Rukia continues, sickly-sweet. “Since Ichigo was so kind to tell us we should start working on new stuff - “

“Woah woah woah, I didn’t tell you - ”

“My mistake!” Rukia sends Ichigo a somehow-withering smile that could kill. “You’re so right, we all agreed. In any case, I decided to start sooner rather than later. I recorded a quick version by myself last night at - oh, I don’t know, two A.M. - and sent it to Urahara by five.”

Ichigo’s foot starts tapping as he leans forward, arms crossed. “You sent something to Urahara without showing us first?”

“He said he liked it, but to get it passed through you guys. Of course I agreed, so… Here we are.” Rukia’s not looking at him any further, instead sending a hard glance to Tatsuki.

The drummer knows it’s not really directed at her - more like a woman’s communication-without-words kind of thing - but she finds herself gulping anyway.

Here we are indeed.

Oh you got stars in your eyes, baby

If you think this will work

I won’t follow your galaxies

Won’t fall for that fucking smirk.

When will you realize the stars were never yours?

Never at any time, never at any time.

The song has turned to pure obliteration by the end. Rukia’s voice intentionally fades out at the finish, but not without absolute raw emotion, pure fury that leaves goosebumps on Tatsuki’s skin.

Rukia stands in the middle of the garage, hands on her hips, looking proud and dangerous and fiery as she stares straight back at Ichigo’s stone-faced glare.

Good for her, Tatsuki thinks before remembering: wait. She shouldn’t be rooting for this.

This is the beginning of a war.

As if on cue, Ichigo clears his throat, raising his chin to match Rukia’s arrogance.

“Great work, Kuchiki. Way better than anything you’ve done so far, I’d say.”

Rukia’s nostrils flare. “Is that a comment on my previous work?”

“Not at all. Just… Inspires me to step up my game. In fact…” Ichigo stands up, dusting off his pants. “Is it cool with you all if I cut out early? Think I have some writing to do too, alone.”

“Absolutely not, Ichigo.” Tatsuki is shaken out of watching the trainwreck that’s her life. “Chad, Orihime and I did not come here for you to cut out without even practicing - “

“No, I think it’s fine, Tatsuki.” Rukia’s eyes glint with a challenge. “We can practice… Without Ichigo.”

An excruciating silence follows. Tatsuki can practically hear Ichigo’s teeth crack beneath his grinding.

“... I can wait to write.” He roughly grabs his guitar, quickly getting to work on tuning it. “Teamwork is important. We’re nakama, after all.”

Something about the pointed word visibly causes the keyboardist to flush, but she starts to unplug her phone from the speaker jack anyway.

The next hour of practice may just be the most painful hour in Tatsuki’s life.

She thought she might have an idea of what happened between Ichigo and Rukia from Rukia’s song Celestial Lies - okay, so Ichigo broke a promise? - but seeing what kind of songs follow after that practice from both of them leaves it all… A little muddled.

The next day, Ichigo sends the group chat audio of a break up song.

Eyes softly gazed

Heart breaking stare

Who knew you’d crush me

Lying is your best jewelry you wear.

Everyone hits a wary thumbs up reaction except Rukia, who hours later only replies: Did Urahara approve of this one?

Yes. Ichigo sends back at a neck-breaking speed…

Followed by a :).

A few days later, Rukia sends another audio.

It only took you ten days to realize

I wasn’t good enough, but no one’s ever good enough

No one’s ever nice enough,

No one’s ever fucked you enough

Called your bluff enough

Said your name like a God enough.

Now Ichigo’s response is a weird song about a siren with lavender eyes feasting on a golden-haired sailor’s skull, and Tatsuki didn’t know what to think happened but frankly? She doesn’t care.

She calls Urahara immediately.

“You know what this is gonna do to us, right?!” She shouts into the phone. “This isn’t doing anything but hurting the band, letting them go at it like this!”

Urahara - to his credit - listens patiently from the other end as she explodes. He has the decency to voice his sympathies, that it must be really tough working in a group with… So many opinions.

“These aren’t opinions. These. Are. Fatalities.” She grits out.

“I understand, Tatsuki-san, but…” She can nearly hear their manager shrug. “This is… How good music is made. I hate what it’s doing to your nerves, but you have to understand that this is how I get you guys out there.”

“At the expense of our friendship? What kind of manager are you -”

“A good one.” His voice drops low, suddenly serious in a way she’s never heard before. “What would you have me do, Tatsuki-san? Tell everyone to stop writing mean songs? Have them hug it out? You know that does nothing for any of us.”

“That’s not what I’m... “

“Tatsuki.” His voice lifts, a bit gentler. “This is what you all wanted, what you’re working hard for. Whether or not they get through this… Nobody can say. But that’s not gonna change whether or not they stop writing these stellar pieces. You know how good they are. So… I hate to tell you, but you’re gonna have to suck it up. Enjoy it while it lasts. It might make your career.”

She hangs up immediately, knowing he won’t be offended.

He knows that she knows he’s right.

Almost like a God-sent gift for Tatsuki’s suffering, Orihime breaks it off with Ichigo after only a few weeks.

The relationship ends - quite spectacularly - in disaster after a couple of dates… Just as Tatsuki thought it would, but hey. She’s not going to gloat about it, only promises whatever deity is responsible a huge offering the next time she happens upon a shrine.

She hears all about it from Orihime, of course - she’s way too pissed at Ichigo to speak to him about anything besides business - who tells her they got a couple of drinks, dinner a few times.

“It’s a very nice time! But he’s not… It’s…” She sighs forlornly and it makes Tatsuki hurt for her.

“He hasn’t made any moves, huh.”

The stage manager shakes her head, suddenly grabbing her water to keep the tears misting her eyes at bay.

Tatsuki wants to kill him.

“He said I looked nice. He opens the doors for me, pulls out my chair, pays for my bill. He and I have… Fun, I think. At least I do - and he’s very kind, such a gentleman -”

“It’s okay, Orihime. You can say it: he fucking sucks.”

Orihime laughs a watery laugh. “No, nothing like that. I just… This Rukia thing. It’s so… Intense, right? In practice? I should’ve known. I feel so stupid.”

“... Orihime.” The drummer puts her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Nobody could’ve known. Had I known? You’d find me on a cruise ship, drumming for some dumb cover band.”

“You make jokes like that, Tatsuki, but you’re the band’s lifeline.” Orihime shakes her head, blinking back tears. “I just… Rukia is so… Goodness, she’s lovely. And talented. And so, so kind - “

“Orihime - “

“And I’m not one to be jealous, I know I’ve only known Ichigo for about a month now so I’m really not too upset about that. But I’d - I’d love to be someone’s first choice like that. I’d love to be the person that someone wants to write songs about, that inspires someone so much. Because that anger that’s coming through their songs… That’s them caring, you know? That’s them caring so much that good or bad, they want the whole world to know, and yeah I don’t love the bad so much but I do love love and want to be cared about like that one day but I’m not as smart or talented as Rukia-chan so - “

Tatsuki interrupts her by firmly pressing her lips to Orihime’s, her hands snaking into her gorgeous auburn hair and suddenly: everything is perfect, angels are singing and if she died at this very moment she would be too blissed out to fight it.

She briefly breaks it off, nudging Orihime’s forehead with her own. “Rukia is also my friend, but don’t get it twisted. They’re both absolute shits.”

Orihime laughs, smiling softly at the drummer before she goes back in and Tatsuki thinks band drama?

Who gives a fuck.

Her new girlfriend calls her the next day to say she’s told Ichigo, and Tatsuki sighs. She was about to enjoy her morning by smoking a joint, but. Priorities, she guesses.

She arrives at Ichigo’s apartment door within the hour, banging until he opens it.

“Y’know, how you get beyond the buzzer at the building entrance is beyond me - “

Tatsuki wastes no time. “Orihime told you, yeah?”

Ichigo rolls his eyes, but a rare, small smile betrays him. “Yeah, she told me. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. You mad?”

“What? No. Of course I’m not mad.”

“Cool. ‘Cuz what the ever-loving fuck, Ichigo.”

“... Not sure what you mean.” Ichigo’s eyes turn to flint as understanding dawns on him, and he’s about to close the door when she stomps on his foot.

“Tatsuki, what the hell--”

“Don’t ever try to do that to me again. What is this all about?”

“God, we didn’t have a - Orihime and I are friends! It’s all been worked out! What do you care, you got your girl - ” He shuts his mouth at the giveaway as Tatsuki narrows her eyes.

“Is that what this is about? You didn’t get your girl so you tried to get mine?”

“No, Tatsuki. I had no idea you liked her, I would’ve never had - and what do you mean ‘my girl’?!”

She ignores the question and chooses instead to ask in reply: “Have you talked to Rukia?”

A beat.

“... We’re not discussing this, Tatsuki.”

“Like, really talked to her? ‘Cuz I know you, and a whole lot of this bullshit could’ve been avoided had you just - “

“I’m not discussing this with you Tatsuki.” He looks down at his phone, lighting up the screen to look at the time. “Look, there’s a few more hours until practice and I wanted to get in some writing - “

“Of course you do.”

“... Just do me a favor. Please? Don’t - don’t ask me to talk about that stuff. You’re my friend and you scare the shit out of me - but I’m drawing the line there. Unless it has something to do with the band - “

She’s getting pissed all over again. “Ichigo, you know it effects the band - “

“We’re professional.” He snaps, and the quick show of temper stuns Tatsuki. He’s never had the nerve to talk to her like that, ever.

She’d be impressed if it wasn’t for the circumstances.

“... Congrats again on you and Orihime. I’ll see you two at practice tonight.”

He slams the door.

“... And you can kick my ass for doing that, later!” His muffled shout sounds from the other side of the door.

Tatsuki leaves in a hell of a less good mood than when she came.

#ichiruki #bleach #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #my stuff

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mc-lukanette · 4 years

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Grade for Each Other (Part 4)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Juleka looked up at Luka as he crossed the gangplank to step onto the ship. She'd made a confused comment about his big grin and the skip in his step, but he was casual about it and told her that he was simply having a good day.

It wasn't a lie. He'd just thought it best to avoid the subject of what exactly had transpired, given what Marinette had told him. He trusted his sister, but he knew where her weaknesses were; she had a lot of anxiety and easily folded under pressure. It thrilled him that Juleka had friends of her own, but some tended to be pushy (he was too polite to voice names but he definitely thought names), and he wasn't burdening Juleka with any sort of knowledge when Marinette was perfectly happy as things currently were. The last thing either needed was something stirred up.

Thus, he passed by Juleka with a calm shrug over her question on how he was meant to be out with his friends by this point. Walking across the deck, he passed by the cabin, where Anarka was leaning on the helm of the boat.

"What's got your sails out, son?"

He glanced up at her, knowing that she wouldn't as easily let it slide. Grinning, he replied, "New member in the crew."

Her brows raised, either in interest or suspicion. "...A co-captain?"

Luka held back an "I wish" and instead shook his head. Regardless of how much of a crescendo he was riding, he wasn't dating Marinette or anything.

He walked on, heading downstairs to go below the deck. There was a song in his heart, urging him to move faster, but he tried to contain it. He let the notes build and develop as he slipped into his room, his fingers finally touching the neck of his guitar.

And then his phone went off.

Luka's mouth turned to a thin line, Claudine's ringtone almost seeming to taunt him. Silently, he wished he'd just played the guitar that he'd grabbed at the music store when he was with Marinette.

Pulling out his phone, he accepted the call and held it to his ear, taking a seat on his bed to get comfortable. "Hi, Cee."

"Hey—" She paused. "...I almost didn't get that."

He could hear a shuffling noise, followed by the sound of a high C note on a flute.

"So, how was your walk home, Couffaine?"

He snorted. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

"You know I didn't." He could imagine her innocent shrug. "Does that mean you had fun with your melody?"

"Not my melody," he reminded her.

"Sounds like she's definitely some melody though, considering that you haven't played her out yet."

He blinked, wondering how she could've known. "What?"

The smirk was evident in her voice. "You've been tapping a tune on the back of your phone."

Luka stiffened, realizing the position of his fingers on his phone. He pulled the phone away, then switched the hand it was in so he could tap at his leg instead. It was a much quieter sound at least.

"Anyway, you didn't answer my question," she pointed out. "How was the walk?"

He frowned, not because she was prodding for details, but because said walk involved Marinette becoming upset. It wasn't entirely bad, but there was little he could tell her.

"It was... a lot," he replied simply.

She hummed. "A lot? So the usual for you then, at least whenever you're around her?"

He didn't respond even though she was right. Debating with himself for a moment, he then spoke with a hint of caution to his voice. "Look, Claudine, about you guys leaving me and Marinette alone—"

"Spare me." she interrupted with a snort. "You've played that tune way too many times. You don't want to pressure her, she likes someone else, you're an angel sent from heaven above who's too nice to pursue her in anyway, blah blah blah."

He hunched forward, brows furrowed as he tried to sound more stern. "Claudine—"

"Luka." There was a sound in the background to imply that she'd sat down on a thick chair of some kind. "Look. You're a sweet guy and I think that's great, but the girl you love skipped two grades and ended up in your class by pure coincidence. You're just going to pass that up?"

He sighed. "A good song'll never come together if I force it."

"And a good song will never come together if you don't try," she argued, sounding exasperated.

Luka opened his mouth to disagree, but found himself at a loss for words, instead biting his lower lip.

A few seconds passed, probably as Claudine gave him a moment to respond if he had anything to say. When he didn't, she let out a calm breath and continued, "There's nothing wrong with walking someone home. It doesn't have to be romantic, right?"

"If it makes her uncomfortable—"

"Did it?"

He was immediately reminded of Marinette hugging him from behind, causing him to blush. "...No."

"Then what's the problem? And hey, if she's in love with some other guy, what if you're better for her?"

"I'm not the one who makes her happy."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure the fond eyes she gives you are just for show," Claudine joked. "I'm just saying, what if this guy's gonna end up making her miserable?"

He briefly cringed at the memory of going to the ice rink with Marinette, Adrien, and Kagami.

"I'm not telling you to get down on one knee and propose - even though I'm sure you're there emotionally anyway - but how about you just let yourself be happy for once without worrying about all the conditions you've gotta add onto that? You're not pursuing her, but you're just letting her know that... what's the phrase? That there's many fish at the sushi bar?"

"You've been hanging around Mito too much."

"My point is, you're not doing anything wrong by letting her know how you feel. You're not getting into her space and you're not forcing anything on her. You're just hanging out like friends do, and so what if you happen to be alone?"

He managed a smile. "Happen to be? You three left us alone. I'm starting to think that you're just doing it to see my reactions."

"It's a bonus," she shamelessly admitted. "Anyway, consider it. I'll let you get back to your Mari Melody now."

He let her have that one. "Thanks."

The phone clicked, Luka pulling it away to stare at the screen momentarily. He exhaled, then set it aside and went for his guitar again, plugging it into his amp before settling down on his bed.

He'd just gotten his guitar into his lap when his phone went off yet again. Luka was starting to believe that fate was thoroughly against him at this point, but then he noticed that it was at least Marinette this time, and only a text message. Happy, though slightly concerned that she was slipping back into her solemn mood during their walk, he picked his phone back up and navigated to their messages.

Oh my gosh! I just realized that I have NO idea what I'm going to do about studying! New school, new lessons, and I'm not prepared at all!

Do you study???

Not that I'm implying you don't or that you don't care about it, but some people don't need to or are comfortable where their grades are, you know?

He smiled, able to read how much her mind was moving faster than her fingers just by how quickly the messages had come in. He leaned back against the wall, his forearm resting on the body of his guitar as he watched more messages pour in.

I'm just asking because maybe we could study together? Like a study date?

NOT LIKE, A DATE DATE.

Especially if you bring your friends which would be totally okay! I don't know them well yet, but they're really nice so far!

Or maybe THEY don't study so it would just be you and me then?

BUT NOT A STUDY DATE.

IT'S JUST A DATE

ON THE CALENDAR

WHERE WE'D STUDY.

SO NOT A STUDY DATE DATE.

YEAH?

He chuckled. The sacrifice of not being able to play yet was well worth it to see that she was back to normal again.

He went to respond, but stopped as he saw that she was still typing. The typing bubble seemed to be going through a pattern of appearing, disappearing, and then reappearing. He waited until, finally, the last message popped up.

I mean, unless you want it to be...?

His mouth dropped open. The only thing saving his phone from falling onto the bed, given the sudden slack in his fingers, was the angle of his palm. He reread the message a few times, just to make sure he wasn't reading it wrong, then averted his gaze to the amp that he had plugged his guitar into earlier.

It suddenly looked incredibly small and pathetic.

After what may've been a full minute of just sitting there, Luka set the phone aside and got up. Securing his guitar to his back, he unplugged it from the amp and turned to walk out of his room. He went up the stairs and back to the cabin, where Anarka was still idling.

"Mom, can I borrow your amp?"

"Atta boy!"

[Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

#multi chapter: Grade for Each Other #((A ''bonus'' chapter of sorts~))

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radioactivepeasant · 4 years

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Fic Prompts: Star Wars Wednesday

Because Disney can pry the Finn Skywalker headcanon from my cold, dead, fingers. And because Disney can’t stop me from reworking their movies if I darn well please.

Most of the fortress had been picked over by scavengers years ago. Any Imperial memorabilia had long since been looted and either auctioned off or confiscated by the First Order. Really, that was the only reason the scout team had considered it as a potential base at all. It had already been gutted, and was pretty well beneath the notice of Kylo Ren unless he was up for sentimental tours.

The general didn’t find that very likely.

Mustafar was far from a hospitable world for most species, but the heat shielding of the fortress was still highly efficient. The scouts had set up a base camp in what looked like it had once been some kind of audience chamber. Nobody had felt like exploring alone. The whole castle just felt...off.

The young leader of the scouts sat on a pile of rubble, head tilted like he was listening for something. He frowned and glanced down at his team.

“What, Trache?” he asked.

The Twi’lek raised his brows at Finn. “I didn’t say anything.”

Finn seemed confused. “You sure? I could’ve sworn-”

Finn?

Finn looked up again. "Rose, you heard Trache call me just now, right?"

Rose Tico set down a power lamp and plugged it into their Artoo unit, then shook her head. “Sorry Finn,” she said, “All I heard was Artoo.”

Finn.

He whirled, squinting into the darkness of the derelict fortress. “There! You guys heard it that time, right?”

Rose fidgeted awkwardly. "Finn...I didn't hear anything."

Finn.

Finn turned again. He felt as though someone had tied a string around his soul and was pulling. As if under some other power than his own, the boy began to stumble into the shadows.

"W- what are you doing?" Trache hissed.

"Gotta check something out," Finn mumbled. He could just make out what looked like a figure, standing at the end of the corridor. "It's...it's okay. I think it's the Force."

His scout team's protests faded into static behind him. There was nothing but the voice.

Finn. Come to me.

Finn slowly reached down and loosened his blaster in its holster. There was a possibility that he was hearing this voice in his mind. And that had to mean enemies.

"Where are you?" he asked, tensed and ready to fight.

The shadowy figure he had glimpsed before reappeared, further away. It stood, as if waiting. Then it raised one arm, beckoning.

Finn didn't sense anything particularly hostile about the stranger, but he was wary nonetheless. He eased forward, following the dark shape into another chamber. The closer he got, the more he realized that it wasn't made of pure shadow after all. A faint flicker of blue light outlined the person, if a person it was, slowly illuminating more details. A black tabard. A heavy gauntlet. A cape that fell to the floor and seemed to swallow all light that touched it.

The rhythmic hiss that Finn had taken for some kind of machinery in the fortress took on a new volume.

It sounded like breathing.

Finn stopped dead in his tracks. He had seen that shape before. In the First Order barracks, as a little boy, he had seen that shape in the propaganda forced down the children's throats.

"Aren't you dead?" he blurted out before he could stop himself.

The giant inclined his head -- or, well, his helmet -- regally and turned. He gestured to one side.

"Walk with me."

The authoritative voice brooked no argument.

Finn knew he should have been running. That was Darth Kriffing Vader, or his ghost, or a clone, or something. But...he didn't sense the kind of painful storm he'd always experienced around Kylo Ren. There was no hatred, filling the air with danger. Just a strange echo of regret.

With one hand firmly on the butt of his blaster, he gritted his teeth and stepped closer.

"The Force is with you, young one," the late Sith Lord remarked, "but you are not a Jedi yet."

That rankled a little bit. Finn knew he couldn't do all the things Rey could yet. The General had told him that his connection to the Force was more like hers than Rey's, but he still didn't know what that meant. That didn't mean he wasn't learning. He was just going at his own pace.

"Maybe I'm not," he said, "But I will be."

Will I be?

Darth Vader began to walk. Hands clasped thoughtfully behind his back, steps slow and measured. Relentless. What did he want? And why was he even here?

Reluctantly, Finn followed a half step behind.

"I'm not hallucinating this, right? Because my team can't see you." Getting lured into the depths of the castle by the ghost of a Sith probably wasn't a good thing. "Why'd you call me?"

"I have been expecting you for some time," Vader said, tipping his helmet down as if observing Finn. "It was inevitable that you would find me here."

His footsteps echoed on the stone, but did not disturb so much as a single mote of dust. The hair on the back of Finn's neck rose when he looked down and saw only one set of footprints behind them.

"You know who I am." It was not a question.

Swallowing hard, Finn nodded. His mouth was dry, and despite himself, his fingers trembled. Like a death sentence the name fell from his lips.

"Darth Vader."

Abruptly, the man turned on his heel. His cape flared out around him as he raised a finger almost in warning.

"That name no longer has any meaning for me," he said sternly.

"Then..." Finn wrinkled his brow and tried to remember the legend. "You're um, you're a Skywalker-?"

His companion nodded. "I suspected that if I had chosen my true form, you would not have known me."

He raised his helmet as the chamber emptied out into another set of corridors. "Come. There is something I must show you."

Well. This was going to make an interesting story to tell the General later. Finn pulled the collar of his jacket up and shivered.

"Dar- I mean, uh...Master Skywalker? You didn't answer my question before. Aren't you dead?"

Anakin did not slow his steps. "The Force, young one, is a pathway to many abilities that some may consider to be...unnatural."

A wry chuckle wrenched itself from Finn's lips. He shook his head and took a jogging half step to keep up with the ghostly warrior. "You're telling me."

Anakin glanced down at him again. Finn wasn't sure how he knew the ghost's eyes were on him, but somehow he could guess where to look.

"You show remarkably little trepidation in the face of the impossible," he commented.

It was strange, but Finn was almost beginning to feel comfortable with the conversation. He shrugged. "Nobody ever told me how the Force was supposed to work. How am I supposed to know what's possible and what's not?"

He jumped when Anakin tipped back his helmet and laughed. It was a deep, rolling sound, utterly at odds with the mechanical whoosh of his respirator.

"Indeed! Do not lose your open mind, Finn. It will serve you well."

"Did anybody ever tell you," Finn huffed, "That you make even compliments sound ominous?"

Another low chuckle. "Yes. Your father did."

His father?!

What was the ghost talking about?

Finn scowled at him. "Whoa, hold on. How do you know my father? I don't even know my father!"

Under his breath he added, "I don't even know what I'm doing here."

Abruptly, he began to sense a complicated tangle of emotions from the ghost of Anakin Skywalker. Regret, anger, concern.

"You remember nothing, child?"

Sometimes Finn thought he did remember. But they were just images. Feelings. A woman's voice and strong arms. A man's smile. Sometimes he heard snatches of a song in his dreams, always just out of reach by the time he opened his eyes.

Other times, the dreams were not so kind. Flashes of an old man, reaching for him even as he was shot in the back. His own tiny hands reaching desperately for an old woman screaming a name he couldn't hear. He wondered sometimes if they had been his grandparents.

The Resistance was his family now. Rey and Chewie were his family. Poe and BB-8 were his family. The General was his family. But in his heart, Finn still wanted closure. To at least know where he had come from.

"I...remember my grandfather dying." Finn said haltingly.

"Not your grandfather," Anakin corrected him. "Your mother's cousin. Your grandfather died long before your birth."

He quickened his pace before Finn could insist on an answer. Through stone galleries and ominous archways he continued with a single-minded determination. He did not stop until he had reached what had once been an impressively secure door, long since reduced to ruin by looters. Inside sat a strange dome-like structure that reminded Finn of an egg.

"Did you see that in my head? Is that like a thing you can do?" Finn demanded. He was determined to get the truth. Maybe he could "sense" it somehow. "How did you see it if I can't?"

Anakin did not immediately answer. He waved his hand over the dome, and with a rumbling groan it separated neatly into two halves. It was an old-fashioned hyperbaric chamber. A few lights still flickered dimly inside. Anakin reached down to touch one small screen, and a hologram sprang up. A young man in Rebellion era fatigues smiled up at them from the hologram. Old though it was, the holo was still recognizable.

"What the- That's Luke Skywalker!" Finn realized.

Anakin nodded. "He was no older than you are now when my spies brought me this image." He seemed almost lost in nostalgia for a moment. "Truly, I would have torn the very fabric of the universe apart to find him."

Finn watched the ghost, noting that he cupped the hologram in his hands as though he held something infinitely precious.

"You...kept a holo of him in your chamber?" Seemed a little odd for a Sith.

He was pretty sure Ren didn't keep holos of his parents.

"Of course." Anakin did not look away from the tiny, grinning face of Luke. "He is my son."

Finn sat down carefully on the seat within the chamber. His feet didn't even touch the floor. "Hey...Master Skywalker?" he asked, "How did you know my grandfather died before I was born? If it was before I was born, I wouldn't have had any memory of that. Buried or no. Did you...meet him in the afterlife or something? Do all ghosts know each other?"

He sensed hesitation as Anakin answered, "No, I...I was...there."

That could mean a lot of things. "Did you kill him?" Finn guessed, "Like, was he a Rebel? Or a Jedi?"

He heard the creaking of leather as Anakin's hands tightened into fists.

"He was a rogue and peasant Sith. A knave who chased after power at the cost of his kin," Anakin snarled.

Finn jolted back. A Sith?

A horrible thought slid into the back of his mind. What if his family had given him willingly to the First Order? What if they expected him to follow in his grandfather's footsteps?

"So...what does that make me?" he rasped.

The tension drained quickly from Anakin's shoulders. He turned away from the hologram of his son and raised a spectral hand to rest against Finn's cheek. It did not pass through him, as he had expected it to. Instead, it lingered, like the brush of a curtain.

"You are," Anakin said, almost reverently, "A valiant son of a worthy father. And the beloved grandchild of a grandmother who deserved a better life than she was given."

The Force was almost screaming at him that the answers to his questions were at last before him, but Finn was afraid to believe it. Afraid to get his hopes up and be wrong. If, after all this, his growing suspicion was wrong, he wasn't sure he could bear it.

"Master Skywalker, please," he begged, "I don't know why I'm here, I don't know what you want from me. Just tell me the truth? Did you know my grandfather?"

The other glove rose, and Finn found his face being gently cradled by an ex-Sith Lord.

“No,” Anakin answered, quiet and inevitable. “I am your grandfather.”

#star wars wednesday #star wars au #fix-it au #sequel trilogy #sequel trilogy fix-it #finn skywalker #star wars finn #darth vader #anakin skywalker #and his mom is Nakari Kelen who is NOT DEAD because we do NOT fridge ladies in this house!#if The Mouse doesn't want me unfridging her that's his problem #and yes. Anakin is STILL the biggest drama llama in space #sneaky shakespeare reference #fic prompts #writing prompts

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nagitoandkokichioneshots · 3 years

Note

Hello! I just found this blog and I absolutely adore your writings aaahh qwq Can I request a oneshot perhaps of Hana meeting an older Monaca (since she was technically raised by Nagito too), aaah I hope this is ok :'D

Mod Mikan: Two things. First: Thank you for your kind words! It really warms my heart that you adore my writings, despite my lack of confidence in them. Secondly, at first I was going to politely decline this request since I didn’t really know how to go about writing this and I’m not the fondest of Monaca’s character (I also don’t know how to write her since we don’t really see her that much aside from UDG), but I really wanted to take as shot at writing this, since this does seem like an interesting concept to me. So instead of a drabble, I decided to make headcanons! I really hope this is to your liking, darling! Enjoy!

-It all started with you and Nagito wanting to go on a long, much needed date night!

-You two haven’t gone out on a proper date night since the birth of Hana. While the Komeada’s cherish the time they spend doting over their lil’ ultimate ballerina, way too many bedwets and cries from their daughter signaled that the parents needed some time to themselves

-”No problem, angel! I’ll call Hajime and see if he can babysit her tonight,” Nagito offered, already pulling out his phone from his back pocket. You were already applying some lipgloss to accompany the (F/C) dress you put on tonight, when you heard a sigh of discontent a few minutes later

-”Naggie, what happened?” You asked your husband, going up to him. He frowned, crossing his arms

-”Hajime can’t watch Hana. He and Chiaki are in Florida on vacation at the moment,” I let out a long exhale myself, about to reluctantly call off mine and Nagito’s longly yearned for date night. Before I could utter the depressing sentence, Nagito’s eyes shone again, as if he thought of a solution

-”Oh! Maybe Monaca can babysit our flower!” He exclaimed, getting out his phone again. I widen my eyes, carefully placing my hands on his phone, supposedly trying to stop him from making the phone call

-”Nagito, hold on! Umm...maybe we can reschedule next week when Hajime and Chiaki come back!” I suggested, forcing a grin to ease him. However, my white haired husband was no fool. He sighed, bringing a cold hand to gently caress my cheek

-”Love...” He started, making me lock my (E/C) orbs into his ghostly green ones. He smiled softly at me, kissing my forehead in attempt to soothe me. With his thumb stroking my cheek, he continued with what he was going to say

-”I know Monaca has the reputation as being....devious, but she changed. I promise,” He assured me. Instead of earning an equally tender smile from his spouse, I tilted my head challengingly at him

-”Oh really?” I asked him, conflicted with what to agree with. On one hand, the idea of me and Nagito having at least a couple of romantic hours alone, getting lost in a lover’s chat, gazing into each other’s eyes as we feast upon our favorite foods together--just the two of us.....it gave me the idea of what I was really craving for....a proper date between me and my husband

-On the other hand, I’ve heard stories that Nagito told me about Monaca. Albeit for a short time, Nagito technically raised the lil’ ultimate Homeroom. She claimed he “made her into an adult” in a way, getting her now known cynical, pessimistic personality from him. However, the reputation she has gotten before that matched the one of a sociopath--manipulative, guileful, sly, and downright disingenuous. There was no way I’d leave my daughter with someone like that

-”Nagito.....you still have contact with her? How can you even be so sure?” I asked him a follow up question, making his gentle smile turn into a light smirk. He began to unlock his phone, as he answered my questions with a calm, yet soothing voice

-”We never talked after she kinda...left. I guess overtime she turned kinda....indifferent, especially due to our different values and beliefs. But it’s safe to say that we grew closer as time went on,” He explained, pressing his phone to his ear. I let out another sigh, but this one carried a softer tone than my previous depressed one

-”Alright. I guess a few hours with Monaca won’t hurt. I’ll inform Hana,” I smiled, pressing a pappy peck onto Nagito’s cheek, as I made my way into Hana’s room. I could’ve sworn I saw a light pink hue dust over Nagito’s cheek before I left the room

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

-”You’re his daughter? Geez, I’m sorry,” The green haired girl told the toddler, as she sat down on the couch. The little ballerina frowned, fumbling with a red playing block she was holding in her hands

-It’s been a few minutes since Monaca came to our house and greeted both me and Nagito. She simply just waved at the guy she called her ‘Big brother’ when she was younger. She had a bit more cheerful expression when she saw me, expressing a passionless “Hello (Y/N)” and neutral looking smile. To anyone, it would’ve looked like she couldn’t care less. But to anyone that actually knew Monaca, it was considered showing more emotion that usual

-After we had a brief introduction between Hana and Monaca, we said our goodbyes as me and Nagito made our way to our car. We drove off, the thought of finally having a night-out to ourselves kicking out any worry or concern I had in the back of my mind

-Everything was going to be perfect.........right?

(Third person’s POV)

-”I like Papa’s hope rants. I think they’re interesting!” Hana exclaimed, flashing a toothy grin at her babysitter. Monaca cocked a brow, watching the three year old girl stack her building blocks onto the wooden living room floor. Someone....actually likes his rants about hope and despair?

-”Oh you poor thing. What did that guy do to your innocent mind?” Monaca asked her, snatching the TV remote from the glass coffee table. She flipped through the channels, stopping at the comedy movie, Ballerina. The remote was lazily tossed beside Monaca, hitting the fuzzy material with a low “thud”. Hana’s (E/C) eyes shot up from her blocks, staring at the screen with intensity

-”I guess it makes sense.....spend enough time with that guy...you’d become as cheery as him....creepy even....” The older woman commented under her breath, keeping her gaze on the toddler’s eyes glued to the TV

-”Do you like this movie?” Monaca asked her, making the blond haired girl nod with excitement. She turned back to her with a wide smile on her face

-”Papa and I watch it ALL the time! It in-inspired me to be a ballerina!” She cheered, crawling towards her babysitter. She stopped at her feet, tilting her head up to lock her (E/C) orbs into Monaca’s pickle green ones. The older girl furrowed her brow, but before she could offer the toddler to sit on the couch with her, Hana stood up and tug on Monaca’s dress skirt

-”Papa always tells me with enough hope and de-deter--determina--” The pale skinned girl huffed at trying to say the long word, rephrasing her words with easier ones that she understood better

-”Papa always tells me with enough hope and desire, I can make my dreams come true. He says after bad luck and despair, good things will come. Despair never wins, no matter how tough it may seem. Because if it seems very VERY bad at first, it will b-balance out with the good that will come! Now that is where hope comes in! Papa says that--” Before Hana could finish her own adorable hope ramble (another trait she got from her Papa, alongside his hair, love for bagels, admiration for (Y/N), and aloofness), Monaca plugged her ears shut with her hands pressing harshly against them

-”Stop, Stop, STOP! Not another ‘hope this’ ‘despair that’ ramble! Monaca can’t take it!” She grunted in frustration, being reminded of the exact same thing that drove her away in the first place. This made Hana jerk back, biting her lip in regret and humiliation

-”I....I’m sorry, Miss. Monaca. I....I didn’t know Papa annoyed you that much...” She sniffled, failing to stop the tears from breaking the barrier between her brain and eyes. Salty teardrops began to swell in her (E/C) hues, blurring her field of vision. As more tears began to prick, rolling down her pink colored cheeks, the green haired teenager’s mouth formed into a sorrow scorn

-”Hey, I never said that. While.....that is true, there are some things I do like about him,” Monaca crouched down to Hana’s height, resting her arm down to her knee. In the first time in years Monaca’s lips curved into a bright....smile? Smile? Monaca rarely offered a cheerful smile since childhood

-However this uncommon occurrence made Hana sniffle, wiping the flood of watery fluid that poured down from her eyes. She looked up at her babysitter, feeling a soft cloth being applied to her tear stained cheeks. She noticed Monaca was wiping her face with a handkerchief, making the toddler feel even more at ease

-”You....you really mean that? What do you like about Papa?” Hana asked her, a gentle smile forming onto her own small pink mouth. Monaca kept her warm smile, as she lifted Hana from the floor, peaceful putting her on her lap. She tucked her handkerchief back into her dress pocket, turning back to the little girl

-”Well.....your Papa made me into an adult....in a way....I may not like his rambles the way you do, but...it shaped me into who I am today,” She started to elucidated her thought process, intriguing Hana into her explanation even more. This silently hinted the green-haired teenager to keep going, as she quickly thought of what else to say to back up her statement

-”Monaca became...mature and grown-up because of your Papa. He only raised me for a short time, but it was enough for me to know exactly my desires and dreams for the future. Like how that movie you and your Papa watch made you into a ballerina,” She compared her intentions with Hana’s, making the little girl nod understandingly. Before the teen could go on, the toddler interrupted her with a joyous toned question

-”That’s so cool Papa in-inspired you too, Miss. Monaca! What happened after you grew up and left Papa’s care? What exactly did he make you want to do?” She asked. Monaca’s atypical smile was replaced with her usual seldom, bored expression as she truthfully told Hana

-”He made me give up despair and hope all together. It came to the point were one day....I just didn’t know what I wanted anymore. So I decided that I was done with everything and wanted to live in space for a while. It was where I was actually before your Papa called me to watch you,” She let out an exasperated sigh, turning to stare at the floor in disbelief “Remind me to change my phone number once I’m done here, okay kid?” She asked the toddler, making her furrow her brow. However, Hana just flashed her normal optimistic grin and nodded

-”Okay, Miss. Monaca. Now come on! I want to watch the movie! And later let’s play with my blocks together! I’m making a castle!” She shouted with delight and amusement. This just made the regularly cynical girl curve her lips into another infrequent smile, but this time a lot less noticeable. She got on her knees with Hana, playing with her building blocks as the movie kept flashing on the TV screen

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

(Y/N’s POV)

-”Thank you for watching her, Monaca! We really appreciate it,” I thanked the now 18 year old girl. Me and Nagito just came home from our dinner and found Hana sound asleep on the couch, one of the couch pillows tucked messily underneath her head, a navy blanket lazily place over her body as it rose up and down from her deep breaths

-”It was no problem at all, (Y/N). Hana is actually....really nice,” Monaca admitted, almost making me choke on my own saliva. Monaca.....expressing positive feelings? I guess she really had changed from her time in space. Monaca turned to Nagito, his arm still wrapped around my waist, stroking my left hip with comfort

-”You have a good one....don’t screw her up,” Was all she said before she made her way out the door. However, Nagito didn’t seem fazed by her subtle insult towards him, as he kept a merry smile on his face--the same one that was a dead ringer of his daughter’s

-”Thank you again!” My husband waved at the green-haired girl, making her stop in her tracks and turn back at us. I cocked my brow, thinking she forgot to tell us something. My thoughts were quickly put to ease, as she began to speak one last time

-”Oh, one more thing. If you ever need a babysitter....please don’t call me. Okay, thanks! See you never!” She waved back at us, making her way out of the house. My skepticism was brushed off by the wave of relief when Monaca didn’t want to come back, in spite of confessing that Hana was a good kid

-My pale skinned husband shut the door softly, not wanting to wake our sleeping daughter from the couch she was passed out on. He lifted her into a princess carry in a mild manner, the blanket still providing her a light heat source. He turned to me, walking towards the bedrooms with me

-”I’ll put our little hope in bed. You go get comfy in our room. You seem a bit tired yourself, my angel,” He told me in a hushed tone. I nodded sleepily, backing up his observation with a fatigued yawn. I gave my sleeping daughter a soft kiss on her temple, as I made my way to mine and Nagito’s shared bedroom. I fumbled with the back off my dress, feeling the cool metal of my dress zipper, peeling it off from my body

-After throwing on one of Nagito’s oversized T shirts and brushing my teeth, my marshmallow haired husband came in our room, throwing his white blazer onto a nearby chair. As he began to strip from his tuxedo, he turned to me, his calm, positive expression never leaving his face

-”See (Y/N)? Everything is fine. We had our date night and Hana was safe and happy,” He informed me, alleviating me even more than I already was when we got home. I nodded in agreement, crawling into our shared bed

-”I know, Naggie. I know. I guess.....I was worried about losing Hana....our Hana....” I disclosed, earning a confused look from Nagito

-”Hm? I’m not sure I follow, (Y/N),” He told me, nodding his head as an unspoken way for me to describe what I was feeling. I sighed, shifting my weight on the bed so I was sitting upright

-”Monaca became....gloomy....depressed....jaded. It’s stupid to worry about this but....I thought if she told Hana her perspective about growing up with you....Hana would become like her...” I turned to Nagito, a seed of worry was blooming onto my face, filling it with trouble “Hana really loves you, Nagito. Your desire to bring hope out....your enthusiasm and passion...I don’t want Hana to lose avidness she got from you,” I reached to stroke his arm. He stayed silent for a while, processing what I just told him. After a few moments of racking his brain, Nagito smiled once again, sitting down with me, stripped to his boxers

-”(Y/N), I’ve only raised Monaca for such a short time. It was on her to leave and abandon the ideas that I raved about. I did nothing but be myself around her. Forget about Monaca, love. Hana is our daughter--our precious flower of hope. As her parents, we’ll support her no matter what she wants to do. But for now...it seems like she wants to bring out the hope that sleep inside of her...” He held me close, bringing me towards his body by my waist. He stroked my arm in a tender manner, resting his cheek on top of my head

-”You really mean that, Naggie?” I asked him, feeling a nod against the crown of my head. He tilted his head down at me, gently kissing my forehead

-”I really do, my sunshine. Besides...” He motioned for me to lay down with, patting the space next to him on the white bedsheets. I snuggled against him, signaling for him to turn off the lights in our room. Before our room was engulfed the the darkness of the night, I could’ve sworn that I saw Nagito’s smile turn into a collected smirk as he held me close

-”You think I’d really help out someone that supported despair?”

#nagito komaeda #nagito komeada kin #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #danganronpa x y/n #nagito x reader #nagito headcanons #nagito oneshots #danganronpa oneshot #danganronpa goodbye despair #monaca towa

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bangtan-madi · 4 years

Text

Year of the Rabbit — Four: Resolutions

Pairing — Jungkook x Reader, Hoseok x Yoongi, Taehyung x Jimin

Tags — best friend!Jungkook, non-idol au, flower shop au, gym au, florist!MC, gym owner!Jungkook, brother!Namjoon, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining

Genre — fluff, slight angst

Word Count — 3.9k

Summary — Blame it on the storm or the secret feelings or the snow-in, but one thing is for sure: a lot can happen to two best friends when they're confined to their stores overnight.

Warnings — language

Part — 4 / 7

Previous — Next

When you've gathered a couple pans and utensils, you scurry back to the baker. The moment to yourself made things a bit easier to hide. But the thought of Jungkook's closeness still presses against your mind's backdoor. When you return, it's even harder to ignore. He's meticulously counting ingredients, lips pursed in an adorable manner. He's organized the containers around him, with the portable stovetop in front. In the makeshift kitchen, he's completely at home as he chops protein for the Tteokguk. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the beautiful array of ink is on display. He sits cross-legged, oddly domestic in front of the bakery.

"You just gonna stand there, or are you going to get down here and help me?"

You shake your head and walk towards the dimly-lit space. On the way, you admire the colorful array of rainbow lights around you. "They really went all-out with the Lunar New Year decor, didn't they?"

Jungkook takes the pans and utensils you offer him, muttering a swift thank you. "They're pretty. I think they give the space a nice ambiance."

As he measures ingredients, you remove the blanket from your shoulders, fold it several times over, and use it as a cushion. Jungkook's skilled hands work on measuring the oils and spices, along with a healthy dose of soy sauce. He places each ingredient in small bowls and sets them off to the side.

"How'd you get the power for the stovetops?"

"The generator's through the door behind the bakery," he replies. "I plugged it in and borrowed some from that." He nods to the bottled water at his side. "Can you get some water going on the stove? Fill it up halfway. That should be enough."

"Then we add the brisket, right?" It takes four or five bottles before the pot on the largest of the three burners is to your liking. "I barely remember this from when Mom used to make it."

Jungkook smiles up at you as he offers a smaller dish of protein. His arm maneuvers around the burner, avoiding the heat source to not risk any burns. "And the garlic."

You shake your head, and after the water begins to boil, you add both ingredients. "It's a good thing you remember this, Gym Bunny. Otherwise, we'd both starve."

"No need to thank me for that," he snickers. "What you should be thanking me for is coming back for you at all. I could've stayed at your nice, warm apartment with the damn cat, but no. I braved the winter storm—"

"—Like an idiot—"

"—To save your ass. You're welcome."

"Maybe you should've stayed with Elizabeth the 3rd, then! I could've made it out on my own, or found this place, and would've had some nice peace and quiet."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. As he reaches for a knife, placing the edge of the sharp blade against the green onion, he winces. The painful twitch of both his expression and his fingers isn't lost on you. He tries to grip the knife again, and when you glance down, you see his fingers are still tinged red from the cold. That hour he spent trekking from your apartment to the flower shop took a toll on him. It's one that he's refused to acknowledge.

"Dumbass," you mutter under your breath. Reaching across, you take the utensil from his tattooed hands. You slide the makeshift cutting board (an upside-down plate) over to your side of the little kitchen. "Stop trying to grip things. Your fingers are still half-frozen."

Jungkook relents, which surprises you in and of itself. He doesn't comment on the state of his hands. He only moves onto the next task of separating the egg yolks from the whites.

Your attention shifts from the green onions up to your best friend. It's difficult not to be caught off-guard by his silence. "You okay, Kookie?"

The brunet's dark eyes move up to yours, and he gives a soft smile. "Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry, didn't realize they were still hurt...and you know how I feel about not being able to do things."

You finish the chopping and set the greens aside. "Don't beat yourself up about it. You need to learn to lean on others from time to time. A little teamwork won't kill you."

"It won't?"

A loud laugh slips out at his snide comment, which brings back Jungkook's adorable smile. He continues to tell you what to prep next, and as the minutes pass, you find yourself slipping into a rhythm with him. It's not the first time you've cooked together; far from it. Between after-school study sessions in high school, midnight mental health breakdowns in college, and post-education hangouts, the two of you have made a mess plenty of times. Much to Yoongi's dismay.

A chuckle slips out at the sudden resurgence of those college-era memories. "What do you think Yoongi would say if he saw us here right now, trying to make Tteokguk in the middle of a supermarket?"

Jungkook giggles as he adds the rice cakes to the boiling brisket and water, along with most of the spices and oils. "He'd probably just roll his eyes and warn us to clean up or he'd bury our bodies in the woods. His reaction doesn't scare me as much as Seokjin's."

The mention of your mutual friend causes you to double-over in laughter. Seokjin, the most traditional Korean man you know, would be horrified. "He'd probably just...die."

"But not before he'd scream at us," Jungkook adds, raising the large wooden spoon and gesturing to you. His eyes widen and he changes his voice to mimic Seokjin's satoori. "You can't just cook Tteokguk like that! What are you thinking? You're lucky you're not my son or I would have disowned you if I saw you using pre-made, frozen rice cakes! Hey! Stop it! I raised you better than this!"

The impression is spot-on, so much so that it has you gasping for air and red in the face from laughing. Tears burn your eyes, and you wave your hand at Jungkook, a silent plead for him to stop. You're unlucky enough that your best friend is a slight sadist and enjoys seeing you lose your mind.

"If you think it's so funny to cheat out on a thousand years of Korean cuisine history, then go ahead! But not in my house, and you have to be obedient to me because I'm an older person!"

"Stop, stop, stop," you gasp, curling in on yourself as you fall over onto the soft blanket. "It. Hurts."

Jungkook continues his impression. His expression and voice grow more dramatic as time goes on. "Is this the thanks I get for buying your meals, huh? Do you know how many times I did that when you were a broke college freshman? I can't even count on my fingers! I don't have enough! I can't calculate! Because I secretly can't count!"

"Jeon Jungkook!" you rasp, smiling so wide your face hurts. "Please, god, stop."

Finally, he relents, voice shifting to a collection of giggles. Your breathing returns to normal, and your facial redness subsides. "You okay there, Flower Child?"

"I will kill you."

Jungkook smirks as he begins to add the final ingredients to the Tteokguk. "Highly doubt that. Especially with the Tteokguk almost done!"

Pulling yourself back into a seated position, you give Jungkook a pouty expression. "You promised me Hwajeon." You hold up a container of edible flowers.

The brunet chuckles at your childish expression. He rolls his sleeves up a little farther, showing more of his tattoo sleeve in the process. He pushes the bag of flour to your side of the burners. "Have at it then. I'll finish up the Teokguk while you fry the cakes."

Your smile widens and you take the ingredients with eager hands. As you measure, Jungkook begins final preparations for the meal. He adds nori and strips of fried egg yolks. The smells that fill the supermarket are divine. For a moment, you forget the situation that brought you here. The blizzard outside. The lack of power. The fact that you're trapped in the store until morning. None of it matters anymore. Jeon Jungkook has always had that effect on you; he excels at making people forget their problems and sadness. It's one of the reasons you missed him more than life while spending time as an exchange student.

"What're you thinking about?" he asks, after a moment of silence.

Shrugging your shoulders, you begin to roll the ball of warm dough into smaller balls and prep them for frying. "Just about the past year. A lot's happened." You take a few of the edible flowers and press one into the flattened face of each bough ball. "A lot's changed."

Jungkook nods his agreement, once again stirring the pot. When he speaks again, his voice is softer. "How do you feel about your last semester at university?"

"Glad it's finally almost done," you scoff. "Been a long time coming. I loved traveling abroad, but it made me realize that what I have here with my friends, with the shop...this is home. Once the three of us graduate, I bet business will pick up."

Jungkook's shoulders relax, and he sighs in a way that almost sounds relieved. "So you think you're with those two idiots for the long-haul, huh?"

Thinking of Hoseok and Yoongi brings a sentimental smile to your face. You toss the first round of flattened dough into the oiled skillet. "I think so. We all work together well, and I love Seoul. I don't see myself living anywhere else, really. As a small business owner, you know what I mean when I say you're kinda anchored to your business."

"At least you have an online aspect," he snickers. Reaching for the serving bowls, he nods his chin towards the front of the store, as if to his gym across the street. "Can't exactly work out virtually."

"Ha! I wish."

"But I get what you mean, and honestly? I'm glad to hear it. I was kinda worried you'd end up loving the U.S. and...I don't know, want to move out of Korea or something."

As you flip the Hwajeon over, your gaze drifts upward. Jungkook's hair hangs over his eyes, but under that, you can see a rosy blush spread across his cheeks. His lip is between his teeth as he focuses on pouring the soup without spilling. If you didn't know better, you'd say he was embarrassed.

"Would you miss me if I did?"

The question comes out without you thinking too hard about it. From the way Jungkook keeps his eyes away from yours, you second-guess if it was the right thing to ask. God knows it could be read into pretty easily. But the little feeling in the back of your mind, the one you'd locked away, has found a lock-pick. It's desperately trying to free itself. It wants to know the answer. For that reason, you wait with bated breath for a response.

"Like hell," he admits. "You're my best friend. I go to you about everything. I...don't know what my life would be like if I didn't have you in it, to be honest."

His words are sentimental, filled with truth, and drag out a complex array of feelings. You're both elated and terrified. Mostly the former, but the tiny prick of dread in your chest won't go away. Your realization from earlier in the evening is accompanied by these intense feelings.

And since you have no idea what to do with them, you answer the best way you can, through a clouded mind. "Well, you don't need to worry, Bunny. I'm not going anywhere."

Jungkook's eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. Finishing with the plating, he nods to the Hwajeon. "About done?”

"What? Oh—yeah. Just about."

He passes you a plate and turns off both burners. "Then let's eat. Put them on the plate and follow me. I found the perfect place for a Lunar New Year meal."

After the Hwajeon is plated and the dual bowls of Tteokguk are on a platter, Jungkook leads you towards the front area of the supermarket. It's farther down than you previously ventured. It's past the food and drink to the small home goods, clothing, and electronics section. He must've come across it when he was looking for the burners.

In the corner, next to the large windows at the front, there's a window display similar the one at the flower shop. It's a cubby of sorts, where the bay windows extended into the sidewalk. There used to be mannequins displayed with a variety of winter clothing. Jungkook's shoved them aside. In their place, he's arranged several blankets and pillows around a low table. He's even pushed one of the storage bins up behind the pillows to have something to lean back against.

"You did all this by yourself?" you ask.

Jungkook nods, sets the food onto the low table, and settles onto one of the cushions with a sigh. "You took forever getting the utensils, so I came over here and messed with some stuff." He pats the spot beside him. "The snow's lightening a bit. It looks so pretty from inside. Maybe we'll even see some fireworks in a little while."

You take your seat beside him, trying to ignore the fact that his thigh presses against yours and his arm brushes your shoulder when he offers you your bowl. For a moment, your eyes lock. Jungkook averts his attention, his dimple popping out as he purses his lips.

Taking it with a small "thank you" and slight bow of your head, you turn your gaze from the awkward boy down to the meal. Inhaling the aroma, you let a lazy smile spread across your face.

"Holy shit, this smells amazing."

"Just like Mom's," he breathes. Turning to the side, he holds up his glass bowl towards yours. "Cheers?"

"To a Happy New Year." You tap your bowl against his, giggling at the soft clink that it makes.

After digging in and continuing to praise yourselves on a job well done, you change the topic of conversation. "So, you have any New Year's resolutions?"

"Isn't that an American thing?"

"It never hurts to look forward," you say in a snide tone, rolling your eyes at Jungkook's grin. "Fess up. What are you looking forward to in the Year of the Rabbit?"

Jungkook settles back against the pillows, taking another sip from the broth. "You first."

"Well..." you trail off, watching the blizzard slow to a soft fluttering of snowflakes outside the neon-lit window. "Kinda already told you mine, to be honest. Graduate. Grow the shop. Expand the business. Things of that nature."

"What about in your personal life?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I wanna get back to Ilsan to visit Mom and Dad more. I should also probably track down Joon and spend more time with h—"

"—Not what I meant, [Y/n]," Jungkook interrupts.

You tilt your head when you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. "What did you mean then?"

The brunet shrugs and grabs a piece of Hwajeon. "You've been single ever since you dated that douche in high school. What was his name?"

"Ugh, Hae-song," you groan, not at all enjoying the resurgence of your exes name.

"Yeah! That one," Jungkook chuckles. "I get best friend rights to know if you're seeing anyone lately."

"Awfully brave of you to assume that Hae-song was my last boyfriend."

Jungkook's eyes widen. "Did I miss something—Wait, when you were in the States?"

You nod once and set your finished bowl aside, glancing over your shoulder at the drink aisle a few meters away. Hopping up, you scurry over and grab a couple of bottles of you and Jungkook's favorites. "This conversation's going to need some soju," you murmur under your breath. "I can feel it."

Settling back down at his side, you offer one of the bottles to Jungkook with a tired smile. Cracking yours open with ease, you take a long sip before settling back against the cushions. Jungkook opens his in silence and allows you to collect your thoughts.

"Yeah, I met a guy," you admit. "He was another exchange student from Daegu. Whatever the odds, he ended up in the same group as me. We studied together a lot, and then we started dating a few weeks in."

"Are you still together?"

"God no," you reply, shaking your head fervently. "I would've told you if I was by now. We broke up a little before I left. He wanted to stay in the States long-term, as in, like, get a work Visa and move there. I'm not about a long-distance relationship. So we both thought it best to go our separate ways."

Jungkook nods along to your story, doing his best to understand where you're coming from. "Do you miss him?"

"Not really. He was nice and all, but we weren't all that close. I knew what I wanted out of life; so did he. Neither of us was gonna change, so it was easier to let go."

"Oh..." he breathes, then takes another gulp of the alcoholic beverage.

"Sounds horrible when I say it like that." You laugh it off, then bump your shoulder against Jungkook's. His silence makes you a tiny bit smug, and his intense focus on the soju bottle invites a little giggle to escape. "Is someone jealous?"

Through flustered words, Jungkook manages to sputter, "Yeah, you wish. I...again, would've missed the hell out of you if you'd stayed. For a second, you scared me."

In a burst of bravery, aided by the alcohol in your system, you reach for Jungkook's free hand. Your fingers brush against his tattooed knuckles as you hold it between your own. Your touch is gentle. Even more so when you notice the slight scarlet hue that still ruminates on his fingertips.

You smile, softly running a forefinger across the ink on the back of his hand. "I hope you believe me when I say I'm not leaving."

Jungkook doesn't move an inch as your hands rest on his. He barely even breathes, afraid to move or speak or exhale. If it means running the risk of pushing you away by accident, he'd rather stay frozen for the rest of the night.

"Promise, jagiya?"

Emphasis is given to your words as you hook your smaller pinky around his. Despite the cold outside, his skin is warm, and the touch sends sparks through your body. It doesn't help that he's close enough to hear your breathing. Close enough to rest his head on yours if he wanted to. Close enough kiss if you wanted to.

You shove that thought away, squeezing your pinky to mask your true feelings. "I promise." Embarrassed, you let his hand drop to his thigh and cross your arms over your chest. The action readjusts you to put a little more space between you both, much to Jungkook's dismay. "Your turn, Gym Bunny. What are your resolutions?"

"You never answered my question, though."

Rolling your eyes, you retort, "Fine. No, I'm not seeing anyone, nor do I have anyone in mind. Happy? Now, your turn."

Though taken back by your sudden withdrawal from him, Jungkook tries to focus on the question instead of the way the ghost of your touch lingers on his tattooed knuckles. "Well, like you, I wanna grow the business. Jimin and I are planning to look at some locations in Gangnam later this spring. If all goes well until then, we're going to open a second location before the year's up."

"That's great, Kookie!"

Your best friend chuckles at your enthusiasm. "We're excited. Feels like a step in the right direction. Growth, y'know?"

"What about personal life?" you inquire. "Don't think you're getting out of that one either. You broke up with your girlfriend before the holidays. Interested in anyone else lately?"

"Actually...there is someone," Jungkook admits. He reaches for another bite of Hwajeon and offers you a second piece. "I'm not sure they see me the same way as I see them, though."

"How do you know?"

He shrugs again. "A feeling. I realized how I felt about them last fall, which is why I broke up with my ex. We weren't in love, and we both knew that."

"All this while I was gone?" you ask, feeling a sense of dread wash over you. Maybe he was lying before when he said he hadn't met anyone new in the time you were gone. From the way he's talking now, it sounds like he's interested in someone else.

"Yeah. It's been building for a while, I think, but it only hit me right before the holidays."

Popping the cap off the second bottle of soju, you take a long swig before adding, "Sounds like you got it bad, Bunny. Why haven't you said anything to them?"

"Scared of messing up?" he replies, answering it more like a question than a statement, as if he's unsure himself. "Scared of what they'd do. Scared of ruining our relationship now. Scared that it'll end up being one-sided." The brunet finishes his bottle and places it on the table. "I was lucky with my ex; both of us realized that we weren't right for the other. What if, this time, I let myself fall, only to have the rug ripped out from under me?"

If you're honest, hearing his concerns about the person he's falling for gives you a plethora of mixed feelings. Half of you desperately wants to believe he's talking about you. The other half is terrified that he's thinking of someone else. His words could lend themselves either way. You've only ever been best friends. And you realize how long it took you to finally realize your true feelings. You doubt that he's come to the same conclusion, at the same time.

No one is that lucky.

Even as your chest aches, the wish for him to be happy—no matter what—forces you to put your own emotions aside. "Do you trust this person?"

"Yes."

"Okay. And do they trust you?"

"I think so. I hope so."

You offer your companion a second bottle, which he gladly takes. "Do you think you could truly be happy if you kept your feelings to yourself? If you never told them?"

"Probably not," he sighs, forcing a smile. "I don't see this feeling going away anytime soon."

"Then, in my humble opinion, you gotta tell them. Even if it's scary, even if it ends up being awkward, even if you feel like it might be one-sided. You're not going to rest easy until it's out in the open." Your blatant hypocrisy is not lost on you, even as you speak. "If you really feel this way about this person, I don't think there's another option."

"And if they reject me?"

"'Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all'?"

Taglist — @kooala

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samtheflamingomain · 3 years

Text

old man yells at tv show

I'm a Simpsons superfan. I don't care what anyone says, I'll argue to my grave that it was still a great show until season 25, and a watchable show until now.

So it is not without immeasurable grief that I finally say, a broken man, "it's time to cancel the Simpsons".

I don't mean "cancel" as in they've committed some heinous act, literally cancelled. End the show. Please.

Until today I would always say, "The worst episode of The Simpsons is better than no Simpsons", and with the season 33 premiere, I finally have to retract that statement. That's just how fucking awful this episode was.

Here's a quick synopsis: Lisa puts on a school musical as Stage Manager, but finds herself left out of the friendship the cast create. She exposes the Big City New Girl as being a fraud and a liar, but because she does it in a mean way, she has to apologize. The end.

Now, because this really shows how little the writers care about character consistency, replace "Lisa" with "Marge". Because despite this being a pretty convincing Lisa plot, this is for some reason a Marge episode. Also, because it's a musical episode starring Julie Kavner as Marge who can barely deliver her spoken lines. they "make" a "joke" saying Marge "sounds like a Disney princess in her head" so they can have Kirsten Bell do all her singing. It's eerie at best.

This episode, which might I mention has no B plot, is bizarre, jarring, and surprisingly unfunny in every capacity. It doesn't feel like a Simpsons episode, which is encapsulated perfectly in one of the "jokes" they did try to throw in next to all the cringey musical numbers.

Marge is realizing through song that the group of friends she thought she was close with in high school actually went and did a bunch of fun stuff without her and she feels left out. After the first verse, Marge says something like, "Okay, so I don't remember all of those exact memories, but I'm sure there's something! Keep going!" which probably came the closest to making me laugh. It wasn't super close, but my mouth muscled twitched slightly.

Anyway, the next verse starts with "The kegger at Marge's house!" and Marge goes "What? Where was I??" which, if it had stopped there, would've been a solid laugh from me. But they answer "oh you were doing stage manager stuff" and then list a bunch of things that supposedly happened on Marge's property without her ever knowing, including the suicide of a classmate.

Again, if it had stopped there, that might have been a bit funny, and definitely as edgy as The Simpsons would ever get. Right?

Well, this keeps going until we get this South Park joke Frankensteined onto a Simpsons corpse: "We didn't see the signs... then when the news crew came we made it all about ourselves!" In bold is the drawn-out solo part of the song.

Look, I'm a huge fan of South Park and other "not PC" comedy. It just doesn't belong in a song on The Simpsons. It's absolutely jarring with not only the tone of the show as a whole but even the tone of the episode.

So the "jokes" that are there suck, there's maybe 10 attempts made overall, and it feels like an episode written by a casual fan. Ask a casual fan you know, "name 5 Simpsons adults who you'd think were theatre kids in high school" and they'd probably guess most of them.

Not that their characters do anything. We have Kirk, Helen Lovejoy, Smithers, Dr. Hibbert and Barney. The only one to have lines relevant to their character at all is Barney, because he has a 2-line moment where he mentions being an alcoholic. That's literally it.

It's also very weird to see Bart and Lisa as bookends. They have 1 line each at the start and another one each at the end. I honestly don't think I've ever seen less done with a main, speaking character. They don't even make jokes, they just comment on the current situation.

On the surface, it seems like this episode was terrible because it was a musical. Usually, I hate musical episodes of shows; I think they tend to be worse for it. But I loved the musical episode where Lisa becomes class president because it was a musical - a parody, but still.

However, this is one of the only cases I can think of where I think it being a musical actually made this episode better than if it had been about a musical (like "A Streetcar Named Marge") without all the songs.

I read a book by a few of the early writers of The Simpsons, and one thing that made me realize why this episode is so bad is because, in the writers' own words, "musical numbers take up time, so they never get cut". When I read that at the time it made me reflect on how astounding that is, given that almost every original Simpsons song is a fuckin banger. Now it makes me realize that this episode would've somehow been even worse if it wasn't a musical, which I didn't think was possible because boy were the songs bad.

Maybe it's the plot, the characters, the lack of jokes, the bad songs, the expectations of a 33-year old show, but honestly I think it's everything. Everything that could've gone wrong did. I literally cannot think of a single thing this episode did right or even just well. For Homer to take the spot of Lenny in the cast they have to injure Lenny, so of course, it being Lenny, they get him in the eye. Just kidding, they break his leg. If it had been an eye injury, and I'm not even kidding, I wouldn't be typing right now. That would've been enough.

For a show that's been on life support in my mind for a long time, in a way, I'm almost glad this episode was the worst piece of shit I've ever seen, because I'd rather pull the plug now than keep it braindead in the ICU for another season, trying to find a single solitary moment in each episode that makes it worth my time.

I'm taking solace in the fact that now, when The Simpsons does eventually end, I won't be upset at all. Last season I would've still been upset and said "it's still good!" Now it has, in my mind, officially stopped being good.

Stay Greater, Flamingos

#simpsons #the simpsons #simpsons season 33 #simpsons 33 #simpsons premiere #simpsons review #tv review #sam

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noblest-roman-of-all · 4 years

Text

to dance on one’s grave

day five bringing us some bittersweet love, and my first attempt to write Virgil.

ships: prinxiety

tw: death and gore ment.

The lights of the old theater hum and flicker as they turn on, testament to how long ago they probably should have been replaced. Virgil huffs a laugh to himself as he walks towards the stage. The ghost lamp is still sitting there, which he flicks off in a moment. It’s not as if it actually does anything, on or off, but it's a habit at this point. He stands there for a moment, waiting to see if anything, or anyone, would appear, then turns towards the wings.

“You’re so late today, I’d begun to worry you’d crossed over to my side without consulting me,” a voice calls from behind him. He kills the smile that begins to form as he turns around. Standing with his arms crossed is Roman, the utter asshole Virgil had somehow befriended during his long nights working at the theater. His brown hair was carefully unkempt as always, his white costume perfect except for the ugly stain of blood, still a bright red, across the center of his chest along where the gash that killed him sits.

Oh yeah, Roman is a ghost. Virgil has a whole sixth sense, “I see dead people” thing going on. Another reason he doesn’t get along well with people.

“What makes you think I’d have time to consult you before I died? It’s generally not a choice, as you’re well aware,” Virgil responds. Roman throws his head back in a hearty laugh that from anyone else, Virgil would be sure is completely fake. But no, Roman is just like that.

“Fair enough, my knight in gloomy armor,” Roman says. “What are we working on today?”

“We aren’t working on anything. I’m doing a double check on the stage props, making sure nothing’s missing. We haven’t got that long until opening night,” Virgil says, throwing the response over his shoulder as he heads further into the wings. Roman, predictably, is not far behind him.

“Is that so? How long exactly is there?” Roman asks.

“Two weeks. Opening night is the twenty-seventh, today is the thirteenth,” Virgil calls back absently, making his way through the mess of a backstage he’s been left with. He doesn’t notice how Roman trails behind slightly at the comment.

The rest of the night goes surprisingly well. There’s nothing incredibly important missing, none of the stage props have massive portions of them that are damaged or unfinished, and most of the hand props are also complete and unbroken. Virgil walks through everything once more to double check, and then heads to the stage manager’s podium to make sure that they have the lighting cues noted. Through the whole night, he notices that Roman is being oddly quiet. Certainly not silent, but he trails off at times, or starts rambling on about stories he’s already told, which he usually never does. They make their way back to the stage, and when Roman lets out another forlorn sigh, Virgil stops in his tracks.

“Alright, what’s up with you tonight dude? You’re acting all,” Virgil flails his arms, gesturing at Roman’s bent posture, “Weird. I dunno.”

Roman wanders to center stage before responding. “I died 34 years ago today. I officially have been on earth as a ghost longer than I was alive.”

Virgil grimaces. “Oh. I, uh, didn’t know that.”

Roman chuckles, sad and empty and not at all like his normal, boisterous laugh. “There was no way for you to know. I never told you.” He sits down on the stage, legs pulled into his chest. He looks so… young, like this. Virgil sits near him, a few feet away.

“Do- do you wanna, like, talk about it?” Virgil knows he could have done that a little better, but he openly admits he’s bad at emotional conversations. He’s out of his element here, but he’s trying.

Roman seems to appreciate it, at least, because he gives Virgil a small smile. “I was supposed to be the prince in a performance of Cinderella here in 1984. We were doing our last dress rehearsal when something went wrong. Somehow, one of the lights shattered right before I got to have my dance with Cinderella. I pushed her out of the way, but… I wasn’t fast enough to save myself.” He looks down at the gash running from just below his sternum to his stomach. Virgil follows his gaze and notices, from this distance, that the wound is more jagged than he thought. He can imagine some massive piece of glass falling from the catwalk, sees Roman running to push his co-star out of the way only to be impaled. It’s… not a pleasant image.

Roman sighs, looking out into the house. “I just wish… I wish I could’ve gotten to have that dance. Maybe it’s selfish, but… I don’t know,” he trails off, letting his head fall to his knees. Virgil can’t do anything but look for a moment. He’s never seen Roman so small, so sad. He wants to do something, to help somehow, but it’s not like he could magically give him that last dance.

Unless…

“Wait right here!” Virgil shouts, then runs to the speakers. He plugs in his phone, and goes through his phone to find the track he was looking for. Thank God he didn’t delete the songs from his last show.

He runs back onto stage just as the first strains “Waltz for a Ball” began to filter through. He stops just before he runs directly into Roman and holds out a hand.

“Fair warning, I don’t know the choreo for this, so you’ll have to guide me,” he says. Roman looks from his hand to his face, and he breaks into a bright grin. Virgil can’t help but smile back.

“Worry not, I’ll be able to get us through this,” Roman says, full of his normal gravitas again. He grabs Virgil’s hand, feeling surprisingly solid, if a bit cold. Then he sweeps them into the dance.

The dance is, in all honesty, quite simple. Virgil remembers that much from when he ran sound for it at another theater a while back. There’s lots of people dancing all in unison, so of course it’s relatively simple and easy to coordinate. That doesn’t make it any easier for Virgil, who is not a talented dancer (he works backstage for a reason), and who is rapidly becoming aware of just how bright Roman’s eyes are, and that he has a splash of freckles across his nose and cheekbones, and that he’s close enough to Roman’s face to make out details on his nose and cheekbones.

Roman chuckles at some point, muttering that he’s “literally dancing on his own grave”, and that statement shocks Virgil back into a bit of reality. He’s dancing with a ghost. This isn’t some cute guy he somehow managed to flirt with, this is the ghost of a man who died decades ago, whose only source of companionship is the one person in the world who seems to be able to see him.

It doesn’t make the heat leave his cheeks, and it doesn’t slow his beating heart, but it does sit like a rock uncomfortably in his stomach.

The final strains of the song fade out, Virgil laughing as Roman says all of the lines of all of the actors in dramatic, ridiculous tones. They step away from one another slightly, Virgil’s face slightly red, Roman with a bright grin across his face.

“I… thank you for that , Virgil,” Roman says suddenly. Virgil looks up at him, and he continues. “I never actually got to do that whole dance in costume. Obviously, this isn’t exactly how I thought it would happen, but…” Roman glanced up at Virgil, his eyes flitting over Virgil’s face. “I couldn’t ask for a better dance partner.” His soft smile knocks the breath right out of Virgil’s lungs, so he can only stare for a moment. In fact, it’s his prolonged staring that makes him realize something.

“Uh, Roman? Why are you getting more see through?” Roman’s face morphs into a state of shock when he looks down at his own body, apparently also seeing the way he’s quickly fading. Then he lets out a slightly hysterical laugh.

“The last dance. That’s what was keeping me here. But you helped me resolve it, so now I can-”

“You can pass over,” Virgil finishes his sentence with not a small amount of dread. If Roman passes over, he never gets to see him again. He never gets to have long, ridiculous conversations about absolute nonsense during his long hours.

Roman gives him a sad sort of smile, like he knows exactly what Virgil is thinking, which of course he does. He seems to be able to read Virgil like a book. He reaches out and lays a gentle hand on Virgil’s cheek.

“Thank you. Not just for this last dance, but for all of the nights you kept me company. For all of the secrets you divulged to me. For all of the love you let me feel, for the first time in a very long time. I just ask one thing of you: don’t forget me, please.” By the time he finishes, he’s almost completely gone. Virgil puts his hand over Roman’s, trying to cling to his last few moments with him.

“I couldn’t forget you, even if I wanted to,” Virgil whispers. Roman leans forward, eyes closing, and brushes a soft kiss against Virgil’s lips. Before Virgil can respond, he’s gone.

#prinxiety #ts roman #ts virgil #shea writes #ghost!roman #this one is sweet but sad #sorry. again.

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nodesiretogrowup · 4 years

Text

alright y’all, time for a Melissa play-by-play. I have a theory about this episode but it will get it’s own post:

And we dive right into spy time

That statue in the fountain was very upsetting :’)

GODDAMN U LAUNCHPAD, U SEXY BEAST

I like that LP says spiffy because I use the word spiffy

DEW-ble O Duck

“What I Dewey best” God I love Dewey and his love of puns

SONG TIME!!!

Ben is a really good singer

I like how the song was foreshadowing things to come

How is she wearing earrings?

A ham on cheese sandwich sounds really good rn

“I can’t remember when I’m hungry” A man after my own heart

YOU DIED

Ok, that game is WAAAAAY too advanced. It has the whole building mapped out and those glasses are WAAAY to small and lightweight to handle all that. Is it all through wi-fi? Am I overthinking the logic of a video game in a cartoon? Probably

“I had a sassy quip and everything.” He has the makings of a superhero in him

“It’s a little too real.” FORESHADOWING! Or the game was already REALLY immersive. OR BOTH

OH GOD LAUNCHPAD IS ALREADY FEELING BAD ABOUT HIMSELF!

“Haven’t you ever wanted to plug into a high-stakes, thrilling adventure?” He’s already done the spy-thing. Though it would have been cool to see Scrooge in a sexy suit

UNCLE MCDEE! I LOVE IT

Then an Uncle Scrooge from Webby. TOO CUTE!

There is A LOT of winking in this episode ;)

“We’re a team” DEWEY IS SO ADORABLE AND WHOLESOME!

Aw, Launchpad

I didn’t notice it the first time, but I love that Steelbeak is using one of those plastic swords to pick his teeth. It’s the little things

Is the theme song gonna be the short version for every episode this season?

I really dig Jason Mantzoukas’ take on Steelbeak. He’s just so cocky yet insecure at the same time. I like his voice cracking when he gets embarrassed or excited

And I ADORE how UTTERLY STUPID he is. I think he’s dumber than Launchpad because Launchpad is aware that he’s not exactly the smartest guy but Steelbeak GENUINELY thinks he’s smart. Plus he feels the joke. That’s just dumb and unfunny (in-universe at least. out of universe it’s great)

“The Sat-a-Lighthouse. Classic villain lair.” Well we know that’s gonna show up

Bradford’s neck bothers me. It makes my neck hurt looking at it

Intelli-ray. You guys are a bit on the beak nose when it comes to naming things

GADGET!

“Rat’s are dumb, right?” YOU STUPID BEAUTIFUL MAN

THE OTHER RANGERS! And Monterey already has his mustache

Ok how did her hair grow so fast? And did she shave her fur? How did she get a more human-esque figure? I NEED THIS INFORMATION

They Secret of Nimh’ed her!

Heron acts like an annoyed/done mom with Steelbeak and he acts like a snotty kid. It’s great

EVIL LAUGH

“Did that rat make that jumpsuit on a regular sewing machine, or did it build its own tiny sewing machine?” STEELBEAK ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS HERE

I legit thought she was about to pull off his beak

“I’ll go. Not because you told me.” He’s such a punk-ass kid, I LOVE IT

CHOMP CHOMP

DON’T EXPLAIN THE JOKE, BRO

“I pay for the privilege of doing someone else’s yard-work?” THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT YOU’D SAY, YOU RICH, PRIVILEGED MAN. Whack-a-Mole is actually about expressing all the rage and fury inside you

Video graphic adventures

SKEE BALL! I FUCKING LOVE SKEE BALL

That kid didn’t even take his tickets

Ticket-rich. I love it

LET’S STRETCH BITCHES

“Can’t let Dewey down. Gotta be smart, gotta win the game.” OH LAUNCHPAD, SWEETHEART

“Calm down, LP. It’s only a game.” Dewey is SUCH a GOOD friend!

“But don’t overthink it.” That’s just good life advice in general

I love how tiny Dewey is when compared to LP. It’s ADORABLE

“THEN WE GET PIZZA.” “Yes, pizza.” I don’t know why, but the way Ben delivers that line is hilarious to me

“Pad. Launchpad. McQuack. My name is Launchpad McQuack.” I love you so much

Ok, was there an actual dude there? How could’ve Steelbeak thrown a digital person?

“Yes, I do as well.” YOU DUMB HOE, I LOVE YOU

That card game was great. Truly a battle of wits. And Dewey just being like...what. Beautiful

“Well played.” “It was?”

“Look’s like you’ve been out-smart guyed.” The dialogue in this episode is top notch

I too do not understand smanzy card games

“But how about a game of 52 pickup...YOUR TEETH!”

“THE PAIN FEELS SO LIFELIKE!”

The sound Steelbeak makes when Dewey pulls on his...hair(?) is great

One day you’ll get to quip Dewey, one day

The cuts between the game reality and actual reality are so great

Is that the Phantom Blot or the normal Funzo? Is there even a normal Funzo?

The neck cracking also made my neck hurt

All the kids gathering around Scrooge is too cute

“Not now lass, I’m on a roll.” SKEE BALL IS A GATEWAY DRUG TO GAMBLING

“I think they just have nachos.” They have pizza too

Steelbeak pecking at Launchpad...brilliant

The little pug/bulldog kid is so cute

The scream when he’s hit with the pizza is gold

That ballpit is terrifying

Yet again Launchpad falls on someone

HE FUCKING PUNCHED A KID! WTF BRO?!

“WE MADE IT TO THE NEXT LEVEL!”

Those jumpsuits are pretty nice, ngl

“Nerp”

Launchpad had the right idea, he just fumbled on the execution

Rubix cubes-shorthand for intelligence levels

She is so done with him it’s great

“We can make Scrooge SO HUNGRY, he’ll EAT all the toys!” Solid logic

“Duh, that ain’t smart.” OO, BURN

Whenever anyone/anything grabs Steelbeak’s beak I feel like it’s gonna come off

THE THEME SONG PLAYS! I LOVE IT! IT’S GREAT

How did the others get smart? Where did THEIR clothes come from?! I NEED ANSWERS FRANK!!

Launchpad is always ready to lend a helping hand

HOW DID THE GLOVE FLOAT?! I HAVE SO MANY UNANSWERED QUESTIONS!!!

“The answer was to build a tiny plane and teach a mouse to fly it?” “Yes, I figured that out.”

Is Gadget a rat or a mouse? She looked more mouse-like before she got smartified but Heron called her a rat. EVEN MORE UNANSWERED QUESTIONS! She’s probably a mouse though because that’s what she was in the original show

I don’t know why but I love when people call Launchpad LP. Maybe it’s because he has nicknames for everyone else so him having a nickname is cute

So Steelbeak was in prison in St. Canard. Perhaps he had a run in with a certain terror that flaps in the night? That would be hilarious if the two had met before but now Steelbeak is more focused on Launchpad. That would be a blow to DW’s ego

I kind of feel bad for Steelbeak. Sure he’s dumb but that was uncalled for. No wonder he snapped

“You bird-brained...” Aren’t you ALL bird-brains though? You are birds and you have brains therefore you have bird-brains. That almost feels like it could be a racist comment in this world

“I’M THE RICHEST DUCK IN THE ARCADE!” You were the richest duck in the arcade the moment you walked in

I love when Scrooge gets obsessed with something and loses his goddamn mind

WEBBY YOU CREATED A MONSTER!

“Ticket bin?” “YES!”

322 DAYS WITHOUT AN ACCIDENT. Good for them

Launchpad just LEEROY JENKENS’ed his way in

His hand is as big as Dewey’s HEAD

LP and Steelbeak have great fight dialogue. It reminds me of Megamind and Metro Man

LAUNCHPAD PUSHES DEWEY TO SAFETY! At that point he didn’t even KNOW what the ray did! But he heroically saved his best friend, not matter what would happen to him! WE STAN!

This episode cemented my headcanon that Chris Evans would be the perfect human LP

“I SHALL AVENGE YOU, MY FRIEND”

This scene, the climax, and the end of the episode gave me a theory, but it will have its own post

British accent=smart?

First thing he does is slick back the hair. Classy

“That cad, Steelbeak” We should call more people cads

How did LP fit into that much smaller man’s uniform? Are they extra stretchy? Because I can totally see that being something FOWL would do. It’s practical

“I don’t know what any of those words mean.” Same

“Heavens, you don’t want them to think you don’t know what you’re doing!” My constant struggle

The supersious guy is adorable

“Well, it’s certainly proving to be bad luck FOR YOU!”

KARATE CHOP ACTION

He still calls him Mr McDee. I just think that’s cute

Dear Dewford. Aww

“I won’t let him down again.” AAAAWWWWWWW

“Can’t go out there looking like this.” You can’t fight crime if you ain’t cute (or sexy in LP’s case)

LAUNCHPAD, YOU SEXY MOTHERFUCKER

That is an old-ass phone you got there, LP

Scrooge is 2 for 2 in missing important calls. Probably should turn his ringtone on

Webby is just so done

“Ah yes, you’d like that wouldn’t you, sonny.” God, Scrooge can get downright FERAL

Blink-and-you’ll-miss-it DW cameo. It looks like Drake’s DW. Does he have merch now? Does he get a cute of the sales? Who makes the merch?

WEBBY WILL FUCKING END YOU

Dewey is SO precious this episode. His cute little bounces

“I’m actually afraid and a little dehydrated, this game is AWESOME” GET THAT BOY SOME JUICE STAT

I love when shows realistically portray sound

“No time for a...crash course” YEEEEEAAAAAAAH

How’d he get a grappling hook?

“THAT’S MY PARTNER!” DEWEY LOVES LP SO MUCH!!

“How is he doing this?” The power of sexy? I don’t know either, bro

“There goes your pal LURCH-POUND! HA! You know, because he just got lurched into that POND OVER THERE?!” “That’s technically a bay.” “I’M NOT STUPID!”

“Classic villain lair!” I can appreciate a man who knows what he’s about

Why do villains alway jump INSTANTLY to the world? You gotta take baby steps. Start with a city, then a state, then the tri-state area a country, THEN the world. Gotta pace yourself

“And Uncle Scrooge only gives us like a nickel each week.” Do they do chores to earn that allowance? I mean, probably. Do Donald and Della have to do chores as well? Give them at least a dime, Scrooge!

MORE SEXY LAUNCHPAD! DAMN YOU, YOU BEAUTIFUL MAN!

“Waaaaiiiit a minute, is that my suit?!” “It suits me better.” DAMN STRAIGHT IT DOES! LP fills the jacket out

I like Steelbeak adding on his fingers

“Your fancy speak won’t work on me, Dummy-O-Duck. Ha-ha, classic.”

“That was totally my plan the whole time” Sweetie, just...no

“I guess you’re not as smart as *voice crack* ME.” “Not as smart as I.” NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR CORRECTING GRAMMAR!

THEY’RE BACK! AND THE THEME SONG! SO BEAUTIFUL!

Again, I thought Steelbeak’s beak was coming off

I like that Steelbeak went into pray position while being shocked

I’m gonna pretend the Rangers were off on their own adventure the whole time’

“Thanks for the...rescue.” AND GADGET SALUTES BACK AND WINKS! BEAUTIFUL!

“No person could survive being that stupid”

Launchpad, always willing to take one for the team

“There’s so much more I could accomplish! Stop the evil conspiracy out to get us! Solve world hunger! Land a plane!” No matter how smart he is, Launchpad still can’t stick the landing

“Launchpad, why are you overthinking this?” “Because I want to be good enough for you!” SOB

“Of course you’re good enough for me. You’re my best friend.” SOOOOOOOOOOB

“For Dewey, and Duckburg.” He put Dewey first, daaaaawwwww

HIM CATCHING DEWEY AND HOLDING HIM TIGHT TO HIS CHEST?! SO WHOLESOME!!

First thing LP does after things go back to normal? Fix his hair. Hair is very important to your state of mind, I guess

“Was it all a game?” Life is just a game

“Wait until I tell Huey I...YOU beat the game.” AAAAWWWWWW

“I’m not playing with anyone but you.” MY HEART!!!!

Scrooge is so broken. And the ticket to prize ratio, too true

“How much money did you spend to get those tickets?” Don’t play skee ball, kids. It will ruin your life

“I don’t think we should bring you here anymore.” Donald should probably be the one picking you up because Della would TOTALLY get hooked on a game/get too aggressive and I could see Beakley falling into the same trap

The comb just sticks there

The subtitles call him Suave-Pad, I LOVE IT!

“I like purple. A lot. Ha! Man, I’m glad I got that off my chest.” A DW reference or a CODEWORD?

“WARM THEM, YOU OLD FOOL! WAAAAARN THEEEEEM! Oh, dash it all, I’m going for a soak.”

“Restoring your ‘intelligence’ as it were.” BURN

She’s on a first-name basis with him...interesting

“OR ANY KINDS OF RAYS!” No mad sciencing here

“Who’s stupid now?” Gloating is very unbecoming

There are...certain people I wish I could force to shut up like that

His muffled screaming is great

Again, Rubix cube solving proves intelligence

How did he not notice it was wet when he picked it up?

I NEED THE SONG IN FULL SOMEWHERE TO DOWNLOAD

This one was super fun and emotional. I was not expecting this to be the episode that the Rescue Rangers would make their debut in but I’m glad they were here. Dewey and Launchpad’s friendship is so pure and adorable. I almost wish there hadn’t been a b-plot but it was fun. I know other people are upset over Steelbeak/the Rescue Rangers being different but I like them. This show is different from those shows. Steelbeak was repurposed into being Launchpad’s nemesis so he needed to match him. Plus we already have a bunch of smarties in FOWL. And this Steelbeak seems younger and less experienced so it would make sense that he’s not as clever. The Rangers didn’t really change that much from their show, just got a new origin that helps them fit into the world that has already been set up. I think this episode is going in the top 5.

#ducktales #darkwing duck #chip and dale rescue rangers #dt spoilers #huey got a much need break this episode

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