#and you are free to go hey. incorrect. think about that or word that differently.
Text
TBB Incorrect Quotes, Part 12
Omega: Why are Hunter and Crosshair sitting with their backs to each other?
Tech: They had a fight.
Omega: Then why are they holding hands?
Tech: They get sad when they fight.
Omega: Hey besties-
Crosshair: Die.
Omega: What did I do to you-
Hunter to Crosshair: Turn that frown upside-down!
*a little while later*
Hunter: What are you doing?
Crosshair, trying to do a handstand: You told me to “turn that frown upside-down” but it’s not working.
Hunter: I taught Gonky a new trick. *throws ball* Fetch!
Gonky: *just stands there*
Tech: He didn’t do it.
Hunter: I taught him to ignore social conventions and think for himself.
Crosshair: Hold the fuck up.
Wrecker: Excuse me?
Crosshair: I said hold the fuck up.
Wrecker:
Crosshair: I’m the fuck up, hold me.
Wrecker: But that place is haunted.
Omega: Ghosts prey on fear. Just be confident!
Wrecker, marching into the haunted house: I AM NOT SCARED! I AM NOT A PUSSY!
Echo: I’ve come to a point in my life where I need a stronger word than fuck.
Echo: What’s your greatest weakness?
Tech: Interpreting the semantics of a question, but ignoring the pragmatics.
Echo: Could you give an example?
Tech: Yes, I could.
Tech: Are you this rude to everyone?!
Crosshair: Yup.
Crosshair: Don't think you're special.
Wrecker: There was a motor close to where I am right now.
Echo: A motor- a motorcycle?
Wrecker: Oh sorry, a murder.
Crosshair: That escalated quickly.
Echo: Okay, can we all stop saying stupid shit for a moment, please?!
Tech: Alright.
Crosshair: Hey, I-
Echo: SHUT UP!
Crosshair: I HAVEN'T EVEN FINISHED MY SENTENCE!!
Tech: It was bound to be stupid.
Echo: I’m so tired.
Wrecker: Did you get to bed late?
Echo: No.
Wrecker: Did you do something strenuous?
Echo: No.
Wrecker: Then why are you tired?
Echo: I’m alive.
Wrecker: Sounds exhausting.
Crosshair: You know what they say. No pain, no gain.
Hunter: What exactly do you have to gain from BLEEDING OUT?!
Crosshair: *mixing different alcoholic beverages together*
Wrecker: What are you making?
Crosshair: A mistake.
Crosshair: How does that even work?
Wrecker, mocking him: hOw dO yOu UsE a cOmPUteR aNd KnOw wHaTS GoiNg oN iT DoEsNt mAke SeNSe?!
Crosshair: Your face doesn’t make sense.
Wrecker, taping a knife onto a Roomba: Be free, my child.
Tech, entering the room with a small cut on his ankle: Who the f-
Wrecker: You’re overthinking this.
Echo: You don’t know the appropriate level of thinking, Wrecker. What if I’m underthinking?
Hunter: Where’s Omega?
Crosshair: Around.
Hunter: Around?
Hunter: You don’t have any idea, do you?
Omega, dropping down from above: Did you know there’s a space above the ceiling?
Tech: So you're looking for information on this thing, huh? Well, I feel like it must be from far away.
Omega: What makes you say that?
Tech: If it's something even I don't know about, then I'm sure nobody else must have a clue. So it's gotta be from some faraway place. Impeccable reasoning, isn't it?
Omega: Tech... You don't have a clue about this thing, do you?
Tech: *screams in anger*
Hunter: Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm?
Tech: If you can ask the questions without the usual level of stupid.
Wrecker: How many vampires do you think have been hit by a car backing up in a parking lot because the driver couldn’t see their reflection?
Tech: I’ve never considered it but you’re really shining light on what’s probably a very serious issue.
Crosshair: Shut up, you’re messing with my train of thought!
Echo: I thought you didn’t have a brain and now you say you have thoughts?
Crosshair: I love saying 'fuck me' because it can either be sexual or self-loathing and those are two things that describe me perfectly.
Tech: Do you know that we are made out of atoms?
Tech: And atoms never touch each other.
Tech: So in my defense, officer, I did not punch Admiral Tarkin.
Crosshair, texting Echo: Roses are red, Tony Hawk is a skater…
Echo′s phone, auto-replying: I’m driving right now–I’ll get back to you later.
*Later*
Echo, texting back: Fuck you.
Echo: I’m having salad for dinner!
Tech:
Echo: Well, fruit salad.
Echo: Actually, it’s mostly grapes.
Tech:
Echo: Okay, it’s all grapes.
Echo: Fermented grapes.
Tech:
Echo:
Tech:
Echo: It’s wine.
Echo: I’m having wine for dinner.
Hunter: But seriously, what is the real plan here that has to do with not fucking around?
Tech: There is no plan that does not involve fucking around. But we will make sure all of our fucking around will be applied in a constructive direction.
Echo, Entering Wrecker's room: Crosshair did it again.
Wrecker: Peace disturbance?
Echo: What no-
Wrecker: Arson..?
Echo: NO, JESUS CHRIST, HOW MANY-
Wrecker: uh....Attempted murder?
Echo: NO, HE ATE ALL THE FOOD IN THE FRIDGE, BUT WHAT THE FU-
Tech: Phee and I are no longer dating.
Phee: Tech, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married.
Hunter: You know what bothers me? Bats. Why can bats fly?
Tech: Not again!
Hunter: No. Seriously, who gave them the right? They're mammals! Mammals walk on land, no exceptions.
Echo: Just wait until you hear about whales.
Hunter: What now?
Crosshair: So what, now I’m just supposed to do everything that Tech does? What if he jumps off a cliff?
Wrecker: If Tech were to jump off a cliff, he would have done his due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry. So yes, if you see Tech jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff.
Crosshair: You jump off a cliff!
Wrecker: Gladly, provided Tech did first.
*Crosshair rushes by with an armful of water bottles*
Omega: What's going on?
Hunter: Crosshair wouldn't drink water.
Omega: ...And?
Hunter: And I asked him how fast he could chug an entire bottle.
Crosshair, loudly: 16 OUNCES IN TEN SECONDS, BITCHES!
Hunter: Y’know, maybe things aren’t so bad. I’m here. I got the nice ocean breeze. Just alone with my thoughts.
Wrecker: Hey, Hunter.
Hunter: GODDAMNIT!
Tech: Underestimate me. That'll be fun.
Hunter: What does “take out” mean?
Omega: Food.
Wrecker: Dating.
Echo: Murder.
Crosshair: It can be all three if you’re brave enough.
Crosshair: Stop asking me if I’m straight, gay, bi, whatever. I identify as a FUCKING THREAT.
#tbb incorrect quotes#incorrect bad batch quotes#the bad batch#tbb#star wars#incorrect quotes#tech chose violence for this round apparently
118 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey! I saw that you're taking Moon Knight requests! Could you please write Jake Lockley x reader where both of them speaking broken English and most of their conversations are just bickering in their native languages?
Just imagine the fluff where they get together and teach each other the words of love in their languages through the trouble of language barrier 😭🥺
Language ☽ Jake Lockley × Arabian!GN!Reader
i only speak english and spanish, so im very sorry if the arabic is inaccurate. i wanted to try something different that wasn't french or italian. also, because im half mexican and half puerto rican, my spanish is different. words are different compared to those who are from South America or Central America
Warnings: roughly translated spanish to english, translated arabic (NOT GOOGLE TRANSLATE), mentions of marc & steven
*if you speak Arabic, PLEASE correct me if there's any errors! im open for corrections!*
Anyone who didn't understand your relationship would think you and your boyfriend were speaking gibberish.
However, you both knew bickering in your native tongues was very much normal, but it was mostly to yourselves since you didn't know Spanish and he didn't know Arabic. Today was different as you both were bickering about the damn English language. As easy as people made it seem, it was damn well difficult. How the heck was there words that sounded the same, but were both spelled differently and meant different things?
"Ine fakt la moana leh." (It just makes no sense.)
"No sé cómo la gente puede hablar en esa maldita idioma sin confundirse, de verdad." (I don't know how people can speak in that damn language without confusing themselves, honestly.)
"Lediham al-jaraa lekhbary baltehadth ballga al-inglizia?" (They have the audacity to tell me to speak English?)
Now, there stood a confused Jake, wondering if you both were arguing about the same thing or was it something completely different? "What you say?" You looked over at him, confused. "What?"
Honestly, you both were confused as to how you managed to be in a relationship for a few months without picking up some of each others language. Well, Jake only understood very little thanks to Steven and even Marc, thanks to his time as a mercenary. However, it still wasn't enough, but if he was being honest, he wanted to learn more about your language. You only ever picked up on what he meant when he called you "amor" since that's his go-to nickname for you. "Teach me?" You raised an eyebrow at him. "Teach you what?" He smiled. "Árabe."
"You sure?" He nodded and you smiled. "I can do it I think. You just have to be good listener." He grinned. "Well, I call you kalabi which is 'my heart.'"
"So like 'mi corazón' for me?" You tilted your head. "That was what you mean?" He chuckled. "Yes, amor." You felt your cheeks heat up. It always got to you when he called you that. You assumed it was because it was in his native tongue and not in English as you were normally used to. "We say habibi." He held your hand. "Can you teach me to say te amo?" You raised an eyebrow, until you realized what he said. "Anna asada ahbak." (I love you too.)
~~~~
like i said, please feel free to correct me for any incorrect translations in Arabic! i appreciate it. :)
my requests are still open for the moon boys! :D
#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley#jake lockley x you#jake lockley x y/n#moon knight x reader#marvel#marvel universe#mcu#jake lockely x reader#asks#ask#request
81 notes
·
View notes
Text
I don't know how to be me anymore
Pairing : platonic!Buckyxgn!reader
Summary : Bucky's always felt different. When he finally starts being ready to figure out what it means, he turns to you to try and find out where to go from here.
Warnings : Nb!Buckyxnb!reader, tiny bit of angst, comfort, fluff, dragcreature!reader, Buck trying to figure out who he is
Word count : 2,494
A/N : Hi guys, I finally decided to post my second fic! I tried to write something as wholesome as possible. Hopefully some of you will find some comfort reading this.
English is not my first language. Don't hesitate to tell me if something is incorrect.
Bucky opened the door abruptly. His hair was a mess, as if he had been running his hands through them for a while. You could see he was nervous.
He had been cryptic in his text asking you to come over. You weren't sure what it was about but seeing his trembling hands, you knew it had to be important. You looked at him with a smile, trying to ease his nerves.
'Can I come in?'
He then registered the fact that you had been standing in his doorway waiting for him to move his body out of the way. He look at you sheepishly.
'Sorry. Please do come in. I'll get you some water. Are you hungry? I should have made us something to eat. I can heat up some leftov-'
'A glass of water is perfect. And I just ate before coming, thank you though'. You stopped his rambling, a reassuring look on your face.
He went to the kitchen to fill up two glasses with water.
'So, what did you want to talk to me about?'
He looked at you surprised. 'How do you know I wanted to talk to you about something?'
You smiled. 'Well I guess I know you that well. Or maybe I'm clairvoyant. Also, you might have sent me a text saying are you free, I need to talk to you about something.
'Oh, right' He chuckled a bit, his hand finding its way behing his neck, a slight blush colouring his cheeks.
You could see how hard this was for him, his hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he eyes looking everywhere and nowhere all at once.
'Hey, whatever it is, it's me you're talking to. I understand you're nervous but I’m here to listen. I'm not here to judge or give you unsollicited advice. I'm your friend, and I here, always. You can count on me.'
A small smile found its way on his face. He figured he might as well dive into it, no point in delaying it.
He had known he needed someone to talk to about this. Not just someone, you. And he felt ready. No matter how hard it was to actually say the words out loud, he wanted to.
He sat down on the sofa gesturing for you to do the same. He took a big breath, and started talking.
'Do you remember when you dressed me up and did my makeup for your show?'
A few weeks back, during one of your shows as a dragcreature, the public had to come wearing at least one item a drag queen/king/person/creature. Bucky had wanted to go all out. He always loved coming to your shows and was hell bent on being the fiercest in the audience.
You nodded. He had been praised by all your fellow drag performers, having shown up looking like a dark priestess, slaying makeup, hair, outfit and demeanor.
'I felt something as you were doing my makeup. I felt powerful and amazing when I looked at myelf in the mirror'
'I know. I saw how you face lit up. And I noticed how you kept staring at your makeup in the rear view mirror.'
Bucky blushed looking down.
'Don't be embarassed, I do it too.'
Bucky took a breath, you could see he had started to relax a bit. What he said next showed you he felt safe enough to open up.
'Back in the army, with the howling commandos, we went out for a drink one night.
We were exhausted, both physically and emotionally and it felt good to take a break. To not be soldiers but a group of people, having a drink, not thinking about the war raging around us.
Steve was having a hard time relaxing. He didn't know how to put the shield down, not even for one night. So the guys and I, we decided to go do a little private show for him.
We went to the dancers' tent and tried their USO costumes on. The amosphere was light, we were having fun being silly together.'
He took a pause. Looked down, his hands trembling harder.
'When I put on the costume, I felt that thing. The same thing I felt when you dressed me up. I felt b... I felt beautiful. It felt right.
And I had the biggest smile on my face. I twirled, I danced, I laughed. I felt like there was nothing that could take that feeling away.
Steve noticed. Of course he did. He knew me better than anyone. He didn't say anything though. Well, not with words anyway.'
A small, nostalgic smile crept up on his face.
'He stole one of the USO uniforms, the one I had on that night and gifted it to me. He said it was to remember that night by, but we both knew there was actually a way deeper meaning to it.'
Bucky looked at you, for the first time since he started talking.
'Did you know they kept it? It was in the museum along with the howling commandos' stuff from the war.'
You knew his question was rhetorical so you just nodded, urging him to keep going.
'While I was recovering in Wakanda, Steve visited me often. Well, he said he came for me but we all knew it was the goats really.' he joked.
The atmosphere felt lighter. Like the more he talked about this, the less scary it became.
You knew the weight of what he was telling you and it moved you to know you were the one he felt safe to talk about that with.
He kept going.
'After Okoye helped get rid of he trigger words, he came to celebrate. We spent the night drinking, laughing, remeniscing about our childhood.
He told me of his life since he'd been in this time. What he had learned, how he tried to build a life for himself here without really ever succeding. How he missed our world.
He felt that Captain America was all he was anymore. Steve Rogers had died that night on the plane and he never managed to get past that. He never really tried to give himself a new life here.
He was stuck in this time. I'm so happy that he got his chance to go back. To live the life he was always supposed to live.'
You could see how much he missed his best friend. He had talked to you about that before. The first time the two of you had talked was actually after Steve had gone. You were both overtook with emotion, sad to see a friend go and happy that he finally had a chance at happiness.
'We both knew I wouldn't want to but he did ask me if I wanted to go back with him. But I knew I didn't belong there anymore.
I don’t belong anywhere anymore... But I could and I want to.
'The night before he left, he came to me with a gift. It was that very same costume from all those decades ago. He had stolen it from the museum a few years back.
He told me that night when we dressed up was one of his fondest memories. One he held close to his heart. Because he understood that I had found a part of myself that night.'
A tear made its way down his cheek. His voice starting to get uneven.
'We never really talked about what I felt, what it meant, what I wanted. I think we didn't know how to. But he did tell me something that stuck with me.'
'He said that now, it was my responsibility to bring back the Bucky I was. Or to discover the Bucky I am. Maybe a bit of both.
This time suited me better than it ever did him. And here, I could actually have a chance to figure out who I wanted to be. Who I had been all this time without knowing, without having the luxury to be.
'I'm so grateful for that night. And I'm so grateful I got to meet the Steve you knew, even for a little bit.'
You looked at each other and smiled. Steve was the reason you two had met. Even gone, he had found a way to make both your lives less lonely.
More confidently now, he kept going.
'I made him a promise that night. To learn to never let anybody define or decide who I am. To learn that only I had the power to do that.'
A tear escaped you.
'That's beautiful Bucky. And really brave too.
I'm glad you had those moments. Even if they were few and far between.'
Bucky smiled. He took a moment to think back. He was grateful to have been able to experience those tiny little moments where he felt whole. But he wanted more.
He looked at you expectedly.
'I asked you here because I need your help. I'm trying to figure out who I am. How to be the person I want to be now. How to be a person now. I know what I want to learn but I don't know where to start or what to ask.
Or who to talk to, exept you. I trust you, I have since the moment I met you. And you have taught me so much already. I'm asking you to teach me more. To support me and guide me through this journey.’
You smiled and took his hands in yours.
'You are so brave. And you should be so so proud of yourself. I know I am.
This is a potentially difficult and terrifying journey but oh how beautiful a journey it is. It won't always be easy, but no matter what you find out about yourself, it is worth it. Believe me.
We've talked about what the gender spectrum is and how it can express itself. How it's vast and both very simple and quite overwhelming. And how you don't have to know where you find yourself in it.
And the way you're feeling today, how you would define yourself today doesn't have to be the same as the way you feel tomorrow.
That's part of the beauty of gender.'
'Was it hard for you? Did you always know?'
'It was hard. Very hard at times. But it was also so easy. I didn't know, not for the longest time.
It came slowly at first. When I would read about transgender people, non-binary or otherwise, sharing their story, I would understand. I would relate even.
After a while, I allowed myself to realise that if I felt like I understood, like I knew where they came from then maybe it was where I belonged.
The more I thought about freeing myself from the binary, the lighter I felt. The closer to myself I felt.
I was lucky enough to have very supportive friends who were by my side as I naviguated all the questions and changes that came.
They never rushed me or asked me to know exactly who I was or to have any sort of answer. They understood that I was trying to figure out my identity. That I felt as lost as much as I felt found.
I can't tell you it will go well with everyone because unfortunately it won't. But I hope you know you can find that kind of support with me. I think you can find it with Sam too, if you want.’
He nodded. He might not be ready to talk about that with Sam yet, but he did know he could.
'The world has evolved, but there are still some people who don't want to accept it or who don't want to see it. And they can be so violent in their need for us not to exist.
And then there are people who will love you and accept without ever really understanding. Not because they don't want to. They just can't seem to, i guess?
My family is that way. When I came out to them, they asked questions. Tried to understand what it meant, how it felt like. And no matter how much they tried, they never really did understand.
You looked down.
'They are the only people who still use my deadname you know.
Some of them because they are having a hard time wrapping their heads around the idea that I'm not the person they saw me as. Some of them refusing to accept that I'm not actually the person they saw me as.'
'I'm sorry y/n. I know how much it hurts you.'
'Yes, it does hurt. When they use my deadname, when they don't use the right pronouns. When they invalidate me feeling bad when they do that.
But they still love me. Me being me has never changed the way they love me.
Of course I wish they would respect who I am. And I know my situation would not be acceptable for some people. And I get that I really do.
Having your parents still love you after you come out shouldn't be something to be grateful about. But for now, I guess having their love has to be enough for me.'
You took time to reflect. Thinking about how your family is handling your transition hurts, and it's hard to navigate not wanting to lose them while asking for them to respect who you are.
You tried to find the right words.
'My family is the one I made. The one I'm making, the one I'm choosing everyday. Composed of both relatives and the amazing people whom I love and want to share my life with.
And you are one of them you know. One of the people who sees me for who I am and loves me unconditionally.
And I love you and I see you.'
You were both crying. Not sad tears, maybe not happy tears either. But the tears you get from beeing seen. Truly seen. The tears you get from feeling the love someone has for you. The tears that make you feel like maybe you can learn to love yourself that way too.
He smiled.
'I love you and I see you.'
'I'll by your side, Buck. Through this journey and any other, always. I'll support you, I'll be there when you need a hug, a book, a sickening makeup, a person to cry with, a person to laugh with. When you need my wonderful vegan banana bread.'
He laughed. You loved hearing him laugh.
'I mean it. I'm here, for it all. I love you.'
He came closer and took you in his arms. Held you so tight. You stayed like that for a while, neither one of you ready to let go. He was crying. You could feel a wet spot growing on your shoulder. You didn't mind. He put his head in the crook of your neck and whispered
'I love you.'
Thank you for reading and remember you are loved ❤️
You can always come to me if you need someone to talk to. We have to be there for each other 🥰
#bucky x reader#buckyxnonbinary!reader#nonbinary!reader#nonbinary!Bucky#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x you#platonic buckyxreader#queer!bucky#marvel fanfiction
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
what if: someone (teen, well adjusted, probably) reincarnates as hibari kyōya?
think of a reincarnated male (probably) from modern world, no magic or anything other than technology, probably no major religious beliefs in life-after-death or anything of the sort.
and then imagine that same teen suddenly waking up as a baby, where wanting to walk off by himself is perfectly fine and okay. where sometimes some new relative of his has the ability to make him drowsy, or can heal his scrapes with some strange glow, or the fact that his great uncle is somehow some a literate baby looking thing, but is also somehow older than his grandma.
and the kidnappings, probably, because hey, it’s eye of the storm fon’s baby relative that he’s obviously fond of, right? they could totally get something out of him!
(wrong and nobody ever tried again. probably partly because of what fon did in response, and partly because how was this actual toddler active.
if this happened in canon, i imagine kyōya’s mind would be still fuzzy enough to not have that awareness of the danger he’s in and the will to spark dying will flames. but this one??? with self preservation and the knowledge of dying once sends him straight to activation.)
maybe tsuna or takeshi or maybe even shōichi??? reminding oc!kyōya of somebody he used to know.
ummm when i wrote this i think i had a scene where fon found out (my reasoning was that he saw that kyōya looked like him, old in a too young body) and asked about it and i think it was meant to give oc a little more closure (though i also wrote that he had resolved himself to live as kyōya when he was four??? dunno how accurate that is.)
i,,, actually have a lot more snippets and semi-incorrect-quotes and headcanons than i thought. i guess i’ll include them here, they’re not as bad as i thought they were.
———
kyōya has fon wrapped around his fingers, not that he knows it
Kyōya is all instinct, would go in guns (tonfa) blazing. However, oc is more cautious, and can plan how to talk and scheme his way out of a situation. He also like controlled violence, and so Mukuro’s battle goes a bit differently
kyōya has all but adopted all the street cats. and birds. all of them. including a falcon he is particularly fond of. nobody knows how in the world he tamed that, but he did.
kyōya has connections
kyōya also has minor mist flames
kyōya probably uses his old identity as a disguise, if he had to, simply because who he used to be does not exist.
———
(later part of the conversation because the beginning makes me cringe)
Fon nods, briefly and sadly, but with a weight lifted off of his shoulders. Probably slightly happy that his nephew was never replaced, he’s just always been a bit off and knowing. He probably also thinks it makes Kyōya feel better by talking about it. He’s kind like that.
“Remember to call if you need anything, Kyōya,” he reminds, face back into that calm state. “I will always have time for you.”
He jumps off, but Kyōya is— that reassurance means more to him than he would ever know. Because he knows he’s busy, with the Triads sending him on diplomatic missions because he’s unaffiliated with any particular branch, and that he’s completely fine with the workload, but sometimes just drops on his bed in Kyōya’s room that he had added a year ago. He knows, and to offer at least words and an open ear for his problems of annoying loud children and the fact that the adults just won’t learn, means the world to Kyōya.
(But if his great-uncle ever wants to break free and they won’t let him… He just has to say the word.
Kyōya doesn’t just keep the peace in Namimori, after all, and Irie promised him any favor, as long as he didn’t have to get physically envolved.
Kyōya is a Cloud, and his Physical Territory is Namimori. However, who said a Cloud only had one? Who decided that all Clouds only kept one thing, weren’t greedy for another and weren’t possessive enough to pull it off?)
———
“Uncle.”
“Yes, Kyōya—?”
“A not-baby with a yellow pacifier is in Namimori. He is shooting a first year middle schooler named Sawada Tsunayoshi with bullets that cause him to shout something about his “Dying Will” in his boxers.”
Fon paused. “…I see. So, Reborn is in Namimori. Ah— I heard a rumor that he was going to Japan to train the next Vongola Decimo. Perhaps that’s why?” he suggested. “That Herbivore? Please, the way he’s doing it is just going to make him terrified and reject it even more. He might even become more like his mother as a defense mechanism.”
———
"Hibari, is that a falcon." Despite the format, Kyōya knows it wasn't really a question. "Yes. You have eyes, don't you?" he dismisses. Honestly, his falcon isn't that much of a shock, is it? He knows for a fact he flies around Namimori regularly, and there are no hunters in his town that would dare shoot down any of the birds.
———
reborn: is looking looking for kyōya
kyōya: in the park
reborn: ah, there he—
reborn:
kyōya:
reborn:
kyōya, sighing: what do you want, hitman?
reborn: why are you covered in cats
kyōya: it's winter
reborn, exasperated: nevermind! i'll come back later
#terrible horrible ideas#khr au#hibari kyoya#ik this has been done with tsuna#but think about the hibari clan/whatever fam kyōya has dynamics#like sure kyōya is like that probably partly bc of cloud instincts#and it was probably treated as normal#but imagine the confusion of a reincarnated teen#who just wants to leave the house and hates being crowded#and their parents just *encouraging* it#imagine the self control oc!kyoya would have#*imagine how that would change canon*#anyway i actually did try and write something for this#but i lose motivation really quickly so#this had been in my drafts for *months* i just wanted it out
46 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I hope you are doing well, I wanted to give my own opinion about the bad reviews. First, happy to know that they will not change your mind about the story, sad that they got you, even if it's normal, as humans we'll do 9 thing correct but 1 incorrect and we'll see only the bad. In my opinion your doing great, the characters, the story, the pace and the continuity are good. Don't mind to much the bad reviews, there are people that only want to see their own story written be others or only want to see the bad in everything others do. The only ones that deserve some attention are the ones that gives you a concrete problem, for example if the author assumed that the reader knew something but forget to write it. If the reader have a problem with the characterization, themes, storytelling or writing more often than not it's a their's problem and not an author problem. A lack of capacity to choose what they consume. Every author write, express themes, characterize etc in their own way. For example I can't take authors that write with a lot of complicated expressions or words because take me out of the history and make me forget about what I was reading, that means that their story is bad, their writing or their storytelling? Absolutely no, just don't for me. Sometimes I find things difficult to read or that I don't particulary like, If I like the story I continue reading omitting those things, if it's too much, I stop there. Sorry for the loooong rambling, but you're doing a great job, and I hate when people put down authors more when it's something outside of the author's hands. I hope that with time you will forget about bad reviews and concentrate on the goods. Hope that you have a good day or night ahead of you, and waiting the next update with patiently.
Hey anon,
I am just coming to realize that what people think warrants high critique in a free, wip, and what they feel entitled to in that game, are far different than what I can provide. And that's okay. There are plenty of other authors and content creators out there that can provide that. This game takes a lot of time to write and to develop and I am doing this on top of having four children that I am raising, one of which I am about to start homeschooling. I have a very full life outside of this game and so I know I am giving everything I can to it right now. There are for sure some things I would like to fix and change and I probably will be able to when I do the mass edit because that will be my sole focus. But until then, they are just going to sit there. There has only been one negative review I've gotten that I have looked at and gone "oof, yeah. I can improve and change that". All the other ones are based on personal taste and while they suck to hear, I am not about controlling what other people think and feel. So, that's just how it's going to be. At the end of the day, I'm writing for the people who do like my writing and who do support me. I don't need to fulfil that role for everyone.
Thank you for your kind words. I hope you are having a good day/night too!
🪷✨🪷✨ If you want to support me 🪷 ✨🪷✨
Demo 🌿 Patreon 🌿 Ko-fi
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unit Arrel Incorrect Quotes Part 13:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
.
Tindri: “If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.”
Trohr: “I’m here for the cult stuff.”
Jurr: “How did you find us?”
Trohr: “I saw your ad on Craigslist.”
The “cult stuff”:
Trohr: “If you put 'violently' in front of anything to describe your action, it becomes funnier.”
Trohr: “Violently practices.”
Vori: “Violently studies.”
Brakan: “Violently sleeps.”
Loktof: “Violently shoots pictures.”
Rakesh: “Violently boxes.”
Linaleh: “Violently murders people.”
Brakan: “Violently worries about the previous statement.”
Trohr: “Hey, I say we go down there, kick Loktof’s door in, and let him know that we’re in town.”
Tindri: “That ain’t the way we do things here. We may have to go in there and run a con, drop a bug, do the smooth talking.”
Trohr: “Okay, you come with me, you do the smooth talking, let’s go.”
Tindri: “No, we just can’t go in there and kick down Loktof’s door. We need a plan.”
Trohr: “Well who makes the plans?”
Tindri: “Vori.”
Trohr: “Vori, what's the plan?”
Vori: “You guys are gonna go down there, kick Loktof’s door in, let him know you’re in town.”
Rakesh: “Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know!”
Tindri: “The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus.”
Rakesh: “Stop.”
Tindri: “I'm bored.”
Rakesh: “Wanna commit first degree murder?”
Tindri: “Sure!”
Linaleh, hearing them: “No- Stop, don't do that! Put that knife down! Put Jurr down!!”
Vori: “You’re from Ohio, right?”
Tindri: “Okay, first of all, my parents live in Ohio.”
Tindri: “I live in the moment.”
Tindri: “You can de-escalate literally any situation by asking ‘are we about to kiss?’”
Tindri: “Doesn't work with getting out of speeding tickets, though.”
Rakesh: “Vori, this morning, I called you abhorrent and reprehensible, and I’d like to withdraw that statement-”
Vori: “Aww, thanks-”
Rakesh: “But I can't. Those are the 2 words that best describe you."
Vori: “I trusted you!”
Rakesh: “Why?”
Tindri: “Do you care if I take the skin off this Furby?”
Tindri: “I want to make him a god. Once he is free of his sinful flesh, he can begin a path towards enlightenment. He will take care of us.”
Tindri: “I also want to softhack his circuits.”
Brakan: “I literally could not care less but never say anything as frightening as that ever again.”
Rakesh: “You have Crayons?”
Tindri: “Yes, I have—”
Rakesh: “You're— how old are you?”
Tindri: “YES I AM AN ADULT AND I HAVE CRAYONS, I HAVE A BOX OF EMERGENCY CRAYONS IN THE CABINET UNDER THE TV BECAUSE EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS SOMETIMES, OKAY? EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS.”
Jurr: “Damn, the power went out.”
Trohr: “Don’t worry, I got this.”
Trohr: stomps foot
Jurr: “What-?”
Trohr: Sketchers light up
Vori: “That’s the longest worm I’ve ever seen.”
Linaleh: “That’s a snake.”
Tindri: “I'm not creepy.”
Tindri: “I'm petty.”
Tindri: “There's a difference, ya' know.”
Loktof: “You know, studies show that keeping a ladder in the house is more dangerous than a loaded gun.”
Loktof: “That's why I own TEN guns.”
Loktof: “Just in case some maniac tries to sneak in with a ladder.”
Brakan: “What do you guys do when you're stressed?”
Jurr: “Try and calm myself down!”
Loktof: “Sleep.”
Linaleh: “Get myself into even more stress, so that the first reason for my stress gets cancelled out.”
Rakesh: “I don't.”
Tindri: pulls back the curtain while Trohr is showering
Tindri: “Hey did we - stop screaming, it’s me - did we run out of Cheerios?”
Linaleh: “I wish I was a dinosaur.”
Vori: “Why? Cause they're big and scary?”
Linaleh: “Because they're dead.”
Brakan: “Why don't sentients have a specific noise that means 'there are bees here, let's leave immediately'? Why are elephants more advanced than us?”
Rakesh: “We do have a specific noise for it. It sounds like this:”
Rakesh: "’There are bees here, let's leave immediately.’"
Brakan: "If the neighborhood isn't going to help me wash these squirrels I guess I will have to do it all by myself."
Trohr: "Why are you going to wash squirrels?"
Brakan: "Someone has to."
Tindri: “I'm gonna get my pilot's license. I've already got a driver's license and a cosmetology license, that's two of the big five licenses.”
Jurr: “The big five licenses?”
Tindri: “Driver's license, cosmetology license, pilot's license, fishing license, and… license to kill! I can't wait to get that one.”
Linaleh: “Do you have a self-care routine?”
Tindri: "’Keep going bitch' said to myself in different accents.”
Rakesh, confused and exasperated: “Trohr, how do you plan on telling a bear to go vegan?”
Trohr: “Politely.”
Linaleh, texting: “Answer your phone.”
Rakesh, texting back: “Wait a minute, I can’t find my phone.”
Linaleh: “Understood.”
Linaleh, 5 minutes later: “You’re a terrible person. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing me, Rakesh.”
Linaleh: “Why would I flip my shit about that?”
Tindri: “Because you flip your shit about everything.”
Linaleh: “Well, will you look at this. Here is my shit, and yet it remains unflipped. Just sitting there on the skillet, getting burned on one side. It’s a miracle.”
#i don't even know what's going on between Rak and Vori#but it's probably more playful than betrayal#playful betrayal?#Tindri can keep secrets yes but she has literally no sense of privacy and it shows later on in the Guard series- sorry Trohr#she's literally unhinged#i like how Trohr questioned Brak's decision to wash squirrels and then decided to ask a BEAR to go vegan#like come on kid you fought in the clone wars you should know better#incorrect quotes#ocs#grand inquisitor#guard series#unit arrel
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
(under the cut: me sorting my thoughts on the ts4 early access drama bc if i don't put it Somewhere i feel like i'll explode)
as a blanket statement, creators are allowed to want to be compensated for their effort. this is not inherently a bad thing
i'm unsure of the like. Legality of Expecting compensation when one's work is based entirely in an existing work. or maybe legality is the wrong word. media fanartists and fic writers are known to have patreons/ko-fis/paypals/etc, but ime these are for accepting tips and/or sharing wips, running polls to decide next work, private original commissions, etc
ts4 is the Only game i know of where modders do early access *at all*, much less have enough paywalled content that the parent game has to put out a statement on it. skyrim had the *idea* of paid mods for like three days and there was Such an uproar they axed it and never looked back
i've seen some creators calling players entitled or ungrateful, which, almost puts me in mind to delete their existing works from my folder. yes, you work hard on your mods. no, i don't think you're a bad person for wishing there was more benefit to doing the work. the thing is... why are you doing it if your only concern is making money? why do *video game modding, specifically,* if your goal is making money? the *one* hobby famous for *being done for free*?
if you, like, quit your job to focus on *ts4 mod creation* and intentionally made *that* your sole/largest source of income, look, you're just dumb as fuck. video game modding is absolutely not a profitable venture and you had to know that going in
''modders provide a valuable and necessary service by making the game playable'' this is not a wholly incorrect statement but also, no you are Not necessary. you are a video game modder. see again the note about this being an unpaid hobby for literally every other game
also there is a sizeable chunk of the ts4 player base that chose piracy over giving even a cent to ea. keep that in mind when trying to say you are entitled to players' money
if i could afford to sub to the patreons of my favorite creators i absolutely would, whether or not it got me earlier access to their work. i enjoy the product they release and wish i had the kind of disposable income to go "hey nice job :> get yourself a little treat"
the creators waiting for a clearer statement from ea before they make the official choice to stop the 2-3 week early access model they've been using are well within their right. every statement i've read from ea said something slightly different, there doesn't seem to be one cohesive policy that's been distributed to the people running support/help channels. this portion of the chaos is entirely on them for not being clear whether it's *only* perma-paywall content that's now banned or the *entire* practice of locking mods behind subscriptions, even when it's only for a very short period before public access goes live
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 | 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦
Prompt: (Based off of the song I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys) Clay’s recent fame leads to a difficult decision to be made. Months later, he’s still regretful. You seem to be fine, so why can’t he move on, too?
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, slight angst
Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader
Words: 2.5k
Masterlist
I spent a week on this and idk how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy <3
Clay had been consumed by an overwhelming emptiness, his entire body hollow as the lack of your presence took its toll.
Two months. Two devastating months had passed since he’d made a grave mistake, and now he was facing the agonous repercussions. He was a mess—anyone could see it. Between his long, disheveled hair, the light scruff that covered his face, and his bloodshot eyes, it was clear that Clay’s mind had been somewhere else. And it had been. Every passing second was a constant reminder of his solitude, causing the emptiness in his heart to evolve into a deep, incessant void, no longer inhabited by the happiness you had ingrained in him just months before. Why? Clay was overcome with a sense of deep regret as a result of your absence, feeling more alone than he ever had before. What could have possibly happened to make him feel this way? To make you leave? The answer was rather simple—he was just too damn busy.
Clay had dedicated a considerable amount of time to his career, filming or streaming during the little free time he had. As he grew more popular, the time that you had spent in each other’s presence dwindled significantly, each day becoming lonelier than the last. Your interactions with him had shortened drastically—what were once long, lingering kisses placed on your forehead had devolved into chaste pecks, void of any true care or meaning. While you understood entirely that Clay’s career was important, you found yourself slowly losing hope.
You realized it one day as he was filming.
It was a day no different from the last. Clay was recording a Manhunt video in his office, his voice shrill as he begged his friends for mercy. He was always loud when he filmed, and though you had chastised him for it countless times, he never listened. A loud sigh escaped your lips, going unheard, and you shifted your position on the couch, uncomfortable. Everyday seemed to be the same—each as lonely and frustrating as the last. Clay’s ignorance only fueled your apathy towards your relationship more, and you couldn’t help but find yourself growing hopeless at the thought of Clay being unaware of your unhappiness. Your troubled thoughts continued until a week had passed—a long, grueling week in which you had hopelessly tried to burrow your apathetic thoughts. But you couldn’t. You were giving up. The realization of your unhappiness made a pit grow in your stomach. You knew that you cared about Clay, but you couldn’t keep living the way you were—tired, unacknowledged, pitiful.
And so, you let him go.
Clay was editing by the time you gathered the courage to face him, your stomach nauseous as you approached his office door. A light knock signaled your presence, and Clay muttered a quiet ‘come in,’ his voice raspy after hours of unuse. Blowing out a breath, you entered the room, your expression sullen upon noticing Clay’s inattentiveness. His eyes were still glued to his monitor, deeply focused on editing rather than your presence. You waited for a few seconds, silently hoping he would pay you any mind, but he didn’t. A wave of disappointment washed over you, though you managed to keep your voice steady as you declared, “We should break up.” Clay tensed in his seat, suddenly fixated on your words rather than the hours worth of footage he was editing. His chair turned with a quiet squeak as he swiveled around to face you. “What?” You sensed the subtle indignation of his tone as he squinted confusedly at your abrupt words. “We should break up.” You were much quieter this time, unable to meet his eyes as your words died silently in the tense air. You wrung your hands together anxiously as you leaned back on your heels, feeling awkward under Clay’s intense gaze. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and dealt with it. Maybe—
“Okay.”
Immediately, your eyes flickered up to meet his, filled with a silent desperation as you searched his emerald irises for any indication of his intentions. Nothing.
“Okay?”
Clay remained silent for a moment, his body stiff as he leaned back in his noisy chair. His expression was inscrutable as he stared at you blankly, trying to find the right words to say as he watched your face remain solemn at his confound brevity. His voice was level as he spoke, “I know I’ve been busy lately. We haven’t spent a lot of time together and that’s my fault. I could sit here and promise to change, but we both know I can’t—not right now.” Though you felt your heart shatter, you knew he was right. His job was too important, too time consuming.
A nod signaled your understanding and you turned to leave, feeling overwhelmingly dejected.
“Hey.” You turned around to meet Clay’s eyes, noticing the hurt that was settled in them. “I hope you know I care about you.” You fought the urge to cry and shot him a watery smile, struggling to keep your tone unwavering as you agreed, “Me too.”
Two months had passed.
Clay had been struggling. Everyone knew it—his friends, family, even his fans. It was clear that the once cheerful, happy man had become melancholy, suddenly depressed and unable to hide his unhappiness on camera. There had been numerous speculations of why this was, but only few knew the truth. Sapnap was among one of them and had been staying at Clay’s for the past month, creating content with his best friend while simultaneously making sure he was okay. Though two months had passed, Clay was still a mess. Perhaps it was because it hadn’t hit him that day. He had momentarily convinced himself that his career was more important than you, but deep down he knew that wasn’t true. He wanted so desperately to reach out to you, but assumed you had moved on—another incorrect belief of his. Clay cooped himself up in his home, never leaving unless it was urgent. He had sunken into a deep depression and the only remedy for his pain was you. You. He treated you so poorly. Everyday was a constant reminder of your absence and it was his fault. He could’ve made more time for you, or at least spent the free time he had with you.
Remorseful thoughts ran through his head everyday, nearly driving himself crazy, and Sapnap knew he needed to get Clay out of the house.
“There’s a party tonight, I think we should go.” Clay immediately denied the offer with a shake of his head, grumbling to himself. His best friend sighed indignantly, blowing out a breath of frustration before stating, “You don’t have a choice, you need to get out of the house.” Sapnap stood his ground, arms crossed as he stared at Clay sternly. A minute had passed and Clay, aware of his best friend’s stubbornness, gave in begrudgingly, “Fine, but only for an hour.” Sapnap grinned triumphantly, exiting the room with a smirk. He slammed the door behind him, heading back to his room while yelling, “And shave, for fuck sake.” Clay shook his head, cracking a small smile at his friend’s words.
The party was overwhelming to say the least. Bodies swarmed the crowded living room, reeking of alcohol and sweat. Music blared from a speaker, a shrill, nearly deafening melody that was sure to give Clay a headache by the end of the night. The room was buzzing with conversation, every word drowning out in the loud atmosphere. Almost immediately, Clay was passed a beer, and he lifted the bottle to his lips to take a swig. If Sapnap was going to make him stay here, he may as well take some edge off while doing so. A few minutes had passed and he finished the bottle, discarding it in a bin nearby. “I’m gonna go get another drink.” Clay muttered to Sapnap, who was talking loudly to a group of people he’d recognized. His best friend patted his back in response, chuckling as he gave him a playful shove towards the kitchen. Stumbling through the drunken crowd, Clay soon broke free as he neared his destination. He grabbed a beer, opening it skillfully off of the edge of a table, and turned around wordlessly. Taking a big sip, he hoped to free his mind from thoughts of you. Though he wasn’t one to drink, especially when upset, Clay knew that, aside from you, alcohol was the only other solution to temporarily mask his pain. He’d already drank half before he warned himself to slow down, knowing that if he got too drunk, he’d probably do something he regretted. Turning around so he could rejoin Sapnap, Clay nearly dropped his drink on the floor, feeling his heart drop.
His eyes met yours. And then, he heard the music.
I wanna be your vacuum cleaner
Breathin’ in your dust.
Clay felt his breath hitch in his throat, noticing the surprise in your eyes as you stared at him, astonished. As he stood there, staring at you shamelessly, he regretted it—everything. He regretted how he neglected you, ignored you, prioritized all of the wrong things when the only right thing in his life was right in front of him: you. Memories flashed before his eyes, quick and familiar, yet saddening all the same. The way you smiled at him from across the room when he was filming, the way you held him when he was stressed, the way you spoke to him, softly, while he was streaming to check up on him. Everything.
I wanna be your Ford Cortina
I will never rust
You looked away, suddenly nervous, though the eye contact was all-too-familiar. You felt your heart begin to race as you processed every detail of Clay’s face—from his anxious expression to the dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked like a mess. But so did you. You mirrored most of his tired, dejected qualities because you, too, were hurting.
If you like your coffee hot
Let me be your coffee pot
Snapping you out of your daze, you felt a tug on your arm. “Hey, you alright?” Your friend asked worriedly. Nodding briskly, you muttered a quiet ‘yeah’ and smiled in a poor attempt to sound convincing. Seconds passed, and you could still feel the intensity of Clay’s burning gaze as your friend tugged you through the crowd, handing you a drink in the process. You dared to look up, instantly locking eyes with Clay, and swallowed thickly. You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, not when he was looking at you like that—desperate, longing.
You call the shots, babe
I just wanna be yours
Lifting up the red solo cup to your lips, you downed its contents quickly, eliciting a few laughs and impressed hollers from your friends. You were never the type to drink, but you felt that it was necessary, especially when you knew Clay was still staring at you intently. Downing another shot, you risked glancing up towards Clay, but he was gone. Suddenly anxious as a result of his absence, you surveyed the room. Nothing. “I’m gonna go get a drink.” You said before you could stop yourself, not giving your friends the chance to answer you before you ventured into the kitchen. You tried to dodge the swaying, drunken bodies as you made your way quickly into the room, frowning upon entry. Clay wasn’t there either. You sighed, frustrated, and grabbed a beer, struggling to open it. You nearly laughed at your incompetence, feeling sadly nostalgic despite the humor you found in your struggles—Clay had always opened your beers, then teased you for being incapable. You fought back an onslaught of tears at the memory and sighed deeply, leaning against the table with your head in your hands.
Secrets I have held in my heart.
“Hey.” Your body jolted at the sound of his voice. Daring to turn around, you felt your chest constrict at the sight of him clutching your now-opened beer, a sad smile plastered on his tired features.
Are harder to hide than I thought.
“Hey.” You breathed. Clay passed the beer to your shaking hand, trying to ignore the way his fingers brushed against yours. Chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously as he tried to find the right words to say, Clay admitted, “I’m sorry.” A few quiet moments passed, though they felt like an eternity, and you replied simply, “Don’t be.” You tried to hide the tremor that shook your arm as you took another swig of your beer, noticing how Clay’s face fell in sudden disappointment. What? Did you say the wrong thing? You didn’t want Clay to feel guilty, to blame himself for your failed relationship though it was mostly his fault. Why? Because you cared about him. You could immediately sense the despair that washed over him. And, though you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the pure adrenaline from the moment, you hugged him.
Maybe I just wanna be yours
I wanna be yours
I wanna be yours
Clay tensed at your touch, wondering if the beer had gotten to him or if this really was happening. It was. He soon wrapped his arms around your waist, grip purposeful as he tugged you into him. Your head rested against his chest, the steady thumping of his heartbeat in your ear far more of a melodic sound compared to any music you’d ever listened to.
Wanna be yours
Clay swayed the two of you softly, resting his chin atop your head. You clung to him tightly, shutting your eyes as he held you, gentle. “I missed you so much.” You admitted before your mind could even process it. Clay chuckled, lowering his head so his lips were close to your ear, “I missed you more, baby.” You tried to fight the grin that plastered itself on your face as you took in his words, squeezing his torso with such force you were sure he’d explode. Clay went to speak again, caressing your sides so gently you could barely feel it, before being interrupted.
“Holy shit, there you are, dumbass!”
Sapnap.
Clay pulled away from you to glare at his best friend, trying to ignore the shit eating grin on Sapnap’s face as he glanced at you. “My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt...whatever the hell I just interrupted. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, but you clearly are.” Before either of you could respond, he left, shooting his friend a thumbs up before disappearing into the crowd. You couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction, noticing the slight rosiness Clay’s cheeks had suddenly sported, embarrassed. “Sorry about that, he…” Clay struggled to find the perfect word to describe his best friend, but trailed off. “Yeah.” You agreed, seemingly understanding what he meant despite his silence. Clay laughed, then. The sound was music to your ears, and when his smile faded, the two of you were serious again. Clay’s hand found refuge in yours as he began to speak, his face solemn as he confessed, “I lied. I can change. I will right now if you want me to—I’d do anything for you.”
Wanna be yours
You smiled lovingly at the man, interlocking the fingers of his hand that wasn’t already occupied in yours, and pulled him closer to you, wanting him near.
Wanna be yours
“Deal.”
#dream imagine#dreamwastaken imagine#dream x reader#dreamwastaken x reader#dream angst#dreamwastaken angst#mcyt x reader#mcyt imagine#mcyt angst
646 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Enforcers Part 1: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader
synopsis: As a Kitsune, you're tasked with sniffing out the illegal activities of the underground and reporting them back to the Civic Service Bureau. You'll be partnered with a Leviathan, who is the muscle to carry out the arrests, but can you handle what he brings to the table?
wc: 2.1k
tw: none
masterlist
“Chins up, kitsune! Leave your confidence at the door, and become one with your fear. For the first time in your lives, you will come to stare death in the face. And, unlike at that rubbish academy you were at for the last four years of your life, this is the real deal.”
You look at the man pacing in front of you, his blonde hair slicked back and eyes covered with a pair of peculiar glasses. He’s wearing the standard grey uniform for the upper ranked kitsune with a spotted tie, which would normally be out of uniform, but he’s the head of communications in the Civic Service Bureau, so it doesn’t matter.
“There’s only one thing separating you from a Leviathan in this world. You there, tell me what it is!” Nanami Kento points to the pink-haired boy beside you and Yuji Itadori gulps.
“Uh… cool haircuts and tattoos?”
You groan internally, wondering how he made it through the four years of training without dropping out. “Incorrect. Y/n, tell me what separates you from a Leviathan in the Civic Service Bureau.”
“Our lifespan.”
“That’s right. On average, a kitsune will live ten to twelve years longer than their headstrong and combative partner, hence why there are more of them than there are of us. But that doesn’t mean be reckless. The entire bureau relies on the intel, insight, and reports you bring back from the field. Now, if you think this isn’t the desk job you were promised, you are free to leave. You were only invited here based on your ability to spy and not be caught. But if you’re ready to serve your nation in the most honorable way, stay here.” Not a single person out of the four of you shifts their movements. “Perfect,” Nanami murmurs, eyeing you all carefully. When his eyes rest on you, you notice the different assessment he gives you. It’s the one thing everyone does the first time you meet:
Is she as good as her parents were?
You’re here not only to answer that question but to exceed it. Your parents raised you for this moment - to take on any task thrown at you, spy as well as they did when they were in the Kitsune. You would do all of that and more, then when it came time for you to settle down, you would marry a fellow Kitsune and live in the Grand Sun District with your peers. The trajectory of your life looks like an arrow, shooting straight for the stars and never coming down until your own star wanes into the night. But by then, there would be a legacy tied to your name, and no one would be able to besmirch your reputation. Ever.
“Alright, you will all be paired with your Leviathan after dinner. Go and freshen up; you have a long night ahead of you.”
“Sir!” You all salute the man with fervor, then you’re ushered to your temporary dressing quarters where you’re instructed to shower until you’re thoroughly cleaned, then to dress in the standard Kitsune uniform - a light grey shirt and grey pants, with a grey jacket. As you stand in the shower and wash, you remember your parents’ words:
“You’re the reason there’s still good in this world. As a Kitsune, you give balance to the chaos of the universe.”
They always made the job seem like a superhero’s task, but you learned much more about the types of jobs you would take on when you went to the academy. But you’d risen to each and every challenge, no matter what, and graduated second in your class, behind Nobara Kugisaki.
As you slide on the pants provided to you, you wonder who they’ll pair you with. In the past, each Leviathan was paired with their equal Kitsune, which meant you would be paired with the second-ranked in the incoming group. But they changed that rule when Gojo Satoru switched from being first in the Kitsune to being first in the Leviathans a year ago, disrupting the entire ranking system. Ranks from the Academy were just a formality now, thanks to him.
“Fall in line!” You toss your jacket on, then join the other three in the main room, coming face to face with Yuki, the head of the Kitsune and Reconnaissance.
“You all look like a spry bunch. But I hate to say that the Leviathans you’ll be paired with are tougher than last year’s group. Excluding Gojo, of course.” You all hold your breath, but she smiles, turning to Nanami. “Dinner should be ready soon.”
_____________________________________________________________
The cafeteria is silent with Yuji, Nobara, Maki, and you eating as quickly as you can, trying your best to scarf down the tasteless meal before introducing your partners. Finally, once you swallow down your water, you stand, grunting.
“Alright, I’m done.”
“Hey, hotshot,” Nobara huffs. “We don’t meet them until they’re ready. And you know how Leviathans are.”
“Slow, lazy, quick to anger,” Yuji groans and Maki nods, shrugging.
You sit back down, tapping your fingers on the table. “Perhaps they could speed it up.”
“Why are you in such a hurry?” Yui wonders innocently, pulling apart his bread roll.
“I want to get to work,” you admit, cracking your knuckles. “I’m itching to sniff out and dismantle some organizations.”
“Just because your parents took down the Motivir Group doesn’t mean you have to live up to their reputation.”
“Doesn’t mean I can slack off, either,” you grumble just as the doors to the cafeteria slide open. Yuki walks through, her brow raised curiously.
“It seems that they’re ready. Are you all set?”
The walk to the auditorium seems longer than it actually is as you pass by endless barracks, one of which would end up being where you stay in an adjoining room to your Leviathan. As your shoes clang on the metal rafters connecting the barracks to the main building, your heart beats feverishly in your chest. Of course, your Leviathan will be impressed that you’re the daughter of two prominent Kitsune, but would they expect you to--
“Watch your step.” You descend the staircase to the lobby of the auditorium and wait patiently for the doors to open. When they do, they reveal the hundreds of waiting Civic Service Bureau members, including the head of communication (Nanami Kento), head of surveillance (Mei Mei), head of foreign affairs (Yuta Okkotsu), Gojo Satoru, and of course, head of the Leviathans, Toji Fushiguro.
He sits in front of his group on the right side of the stage, elbows on his knees as he watches you all parade to the left side where the other Kitsune are seated. A scowl is painted on his face as he eyes each of you, and the Leviathans behind him look equally as bored, whispering to each other and snickering. You analyze the group, taking in their all-black attire and various haircuts, piercings, and tattoos.
When you look over to the Kitsune, they all look polished - hair slicked back, arms and legs free of any visible markings, and light grey attire. The only piercing you see among the crowd of your peers is in the ears, and even those are easily hidden. It wasn’t that you all were prudes or traditional, but to blend in, you had to be a blank slate, mentally and physically; adult tabula rasa.
“Is this thing on?” Toji groans, tapping the microphone just handed to him. You take your seat as he begins to speak, grumbling his words without enthusiasm. “Right. As you all know, today is the day when our newest members are paired with their partners and sent off on initial missions for an assessment of compatibility, blah, blah, blah. I’m going to skip the bullshit and get straight to the fun part.” Yuki mutters a string of curses as she gets up and snatches the mic from him, pushing her partner off to the side.
“Apologies, you all. We do have to read the pledge of the Civic Service Bureau before we continue.” You all stand, tapping two fingers to space between your brow and then to your heart, where they rest as you chant:
“I pledge allegiance to the Civic Service Bureau and to keeping the nation safe with authority, strength, and boldness.” The words echo in the auditorium, and then you all retake your seats.
“And now, a memorial to our fallen Kitsune and Leviathans.” The lights dim as the hologrammed faces of various Leviathans appear above the crowd. In addition to the many faces, there are two outlined in gold: Kitsune.
“Did you hear about the Leviathan that got his Kitsune killed while on a mission last year?” Maki whispers to Yuji, and you frown, turning in your seat.
“Huh?”
“Yeah,” Yuji answers. “I heard the Leviathan didn’t execute the raid properly, and the Kitsune was murdered by--”
“Shh!” Nobara hisses, turning back to watch the faces fade into the light, and the lights come back up as Yuki brings the mic back up to her lips.
“Alright, now I’ll pass it back to Toji so he can… do his job.” Yuki glares at the man and passes him the mic as he grins at her lazily.
“Thanks, Yuki. Such a riveting presentation. Let me start off by saying this year’s Leviathans have the grit and determination that moved even the Grand Council.” The Leviathans roar in response to this admission, acknowledging the head members of the Civic Service Bureau, who were conveniently not present. “Now, at the head of this year’s class, we have my own son, Megumi Fushiguro.” The black-haired, green-eyed man comes up to the stage, forgoing anything other than a blank look as Toji clasps his arm in solidarity. “He will be partnered with Nobara Kugisaki, as directed by the Grand Council.” Everyone claps as they should.
Nobara and Megumi shake hands, then move to the back of the stage to stand together.
“Next, we have Noritoshi Kamo,” Another blank-faced black-haired man. “And he will be paired with…” You anticipate your name being called second, thinking maybe they’ve reinstated the rank pairs rule. “Maki Zen’in.” You watch her walk up to Noritoshi and shake his hand, then join Nobara and Toji’s son. “Next, Choso Kamo and Yuji Itadori.” The two men forgo the traditional handshake and instead perform their own special handshake, no doubt practiced for this very moment. You look up to the elder Fushiguro, wondering who in the world was left for the daughter of heroes.
“This year, as we mourn the tragic loss of first-year Kitsune Yu Haibara, the Grand Council has moved to reassign his Leviathan in a show of forgiveness. So, for the second time - and for the first time in history - Geto Suguru will be paired with Y/n, as directed by special order from the Grand Council.” You don’t move from your seat as the massive man walks up to the stage, his black eyes roaming the crowd for his partner - you.
“Go,” Yuki urges you, but you can’t move.
There has to be a mistake.
“Y/n, please come up to the stage….” Toji rumbles. “Before I lose my patience.”
No. There’s something wrong.
“Get up there.” Yuki grabs your arm and lifts you out of your seat, pushing you toward the stage unceremoniously. When you finally stand in front of Geto Suguru, you look into his eyes and see… nothing. He stares at you, his silver nose ring shining in the lights, just like his long, black hair. But you don’t even shake his hand, opting to walk to the back and stand there, dumbfounded with crossed arms. Geto joins you, looking equally as miffed.
“Okay, great. So, that’s over, and now I can take a nap. Go have some light desserts, talk, get to know each other, and then go to your barracks.” Once everyone files out, you follow, searching for Gojo and Nanami. When you find them conversing at the chocolate fountain, you interrupt their conversation, temper flaring.
“Who chose that failure to be my partner?” you growl, pointing your finger at the man who lingers by himself at the back of the room, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the others.
“Whoa,” Gojo holds up his hands, taking a step back. “That’s a Grand Council question.”
“Partners can't be reassigned except in extreme circumstances,” Nanami reminds you. “This seems like an extreme circumstance, y/n.”
“He let his Kitsune get killed!” you yell, catching the attention of a few others nearby. “If you think my parents will allow this to--”
“Your parents are still under the directives of the Grand Council,” Yuki mentions, walking up to you. “They can’t get you reassigned even if they tried.”
“We’ll see about that,” you hiss, striding out of the lobby and to your assigned barrack before closing yourself off.
#geto suguru#geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen geto#jujutsu kaisen#getou x reader#getou suguru#yuji itadori#nobara kugisaki#maki zenin#nanami kento#gojo satoru
128 notes
·
View notes
Text
I know I'm just posting incorrect quotes but I wrote this on Sunday after more than six months without writing anything and I liked it, so I thought someone out there may like it too. Enjoy! :D
Pairing: Jake x Charlie (my MC)
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: angst with a happy ending, spoilers for ep 8
Charlie walked up the steps slowly, her backpack weighing down her shoulders, the take-out bags of Chinese clenched tightly in her left hand. She checked her phone the hundredth time since leaving her house, making sure she had gotten the right address. The restaurant in front of the motel was a pretty compelling evidence that yes, she was in the right place, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she had gotten something wrong; if she did, this was going to be a tad awkward for whoever was on the other side of the door.
Reaching the number 543, Charlie finally put the phone in her pocket, letting out a shaky breath out through her mouth. Pushing her hair out of her face, she closed her eyes and counted to five.
You’re fine. You’re in the right place. He’ll be happy to see you, you know that. Pissed maybe, but certainly happy too. Just knock on the door and everything will be okay
Finally, she knocked twice on the door, quiet enough so others wouldn’t hear but loud enough for him to hear; she only hoped he wouldn’t think she was one of the people that were after him. Time seemed to pass slowly and Charlie started to get restless. She tapped her foot on the floor, her breathing getting shakier with each passing second that she didn’t hear anything on the other side of the door. The bags in her hand were hot enough to warm her hand and she changed them to the her right hand, rasing her left one to knock again when there was finally shuffling in the room. Quietly, she waited for something to happen: for him to ask who it was, for him to start packing all of his things in a rush or for the door to open, she wasn’t sure which one.
Not bearing the silence and the lack of reaction, she finally talked, “You know, it’s kind of rude to leave a friend waiting outside in this weather. Specially when she has brought food.”
That, at last, got a reaction from him. Charlie heard footsteps, a loud noise followed by a curse, and the sound of the lock of the door. It didn’t open but she knew it wouldn’t take long anymore. He may not have known what her voice sounded like but he would know what to ask of her to know he’s safe; and she knew exactly what to answer.
“It’s also rude to just stop by the door when we both know you want to ask something so I’ll prove who I am.” No answer. With a sigh, she continued, “What was the first thing I asked about you when we started talking?”
Silence followed by some shuffling. Then, “You asked what kind of hack programs I use and I listed four of them to you.” Charlie smiled. I knew it was him. “What did you tell was your imagination about meeting me?”
“I imagined you were wearing your black hoodie, like you probably are now. I imagined your eyes looked so familiar because you are so familiar to me already. I imagined you would hold me in your arms and tell me everything would be okay because we were together.”
It took five seconds for the lock to turn and the door to open. Charlie stared at him with a soft expression, looking for his eyes to see the familiarity she knew she would find and learning what he really looked like; Jake was tall—a lot more taller than her—his long hair was as black as a moonless sky, his eyes a clear grey, dark bags from sleepless nights under them, his skin thin and pale from being closed off for so long. He was indeed using a hoodie, but this one was a dark blue instead of black, a Metallica T-shirt badly hidden under it.
Charlie knew he was staring at her just intently, memorizing her face, and she let him. She watched his eyes wander through her face, the lines around them softening and making him look a lot younger than he actually was. Amazement was etched in his face, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and Charlie thought she had never seen someone as beautiful as Jake; she wasn’t sure if it was because she was finally seeing him in front of her, or if it was because of the way he was looking at her, or if it was just the fact that she was so goddam happy for having found him. Whatever it was, Charlie was certain Jake was the most amazing human being she had ever seen.
After a few minutes, Jake finally let out a shaky breath and tentatively raised his hand towards Charlie, hovering it over her left shoulder. She gave one tiny step towards him, placing her own hand on his shoulder and softly pulling him towards her; it was the action Jake needed to pull her hard to his chest and bury his face on her hair, his arms closing tightly around her shoulders. Charlie moved her free hand to Jake’s hair, threading her fingers through it, and pressed her ear against his chest, listening to his heart beat as fast as her own.
She lost count of how long they stood there but, eventually, her bag started to weigh a lot more than it already did and she gently pushed Jake back enough to look at his eyes. “This is all good and great but we should probably get inside. It’s freezing, my bag’s heavy and the food is just getting cold.”
Jake chuckled, his cheeks blushing as he scratched the back of his neck and gave a step back. “Of course, I’m sorry. I guess my surprise overpowered me. Come on in,” he waved his arm towards the room, waiting for Charlie to enter before closing the door and locking it once again.
Placing her bag on the floor, Charlie looked around the room; the curtains were drawn shut, the bed was a mess of pillows and blankets, there were two duffles by the foot of the bed and an array of laptops and wires on the table. Nothing unlike what she had expected from Jake. She turned to him with a smile and offered him the take-out bags. “It won’t be exactly like you wanted but we do get to eat Chinese food.”
“I think the least of our problems are not being at the restaurant.” Jake took the bags from Charlie before placing them on an empty space at the table. He kept his back to her, seeming to be clearing some more space on the table. Charlie frowned, watching as Jake avoided her eyes when he closed the laptops and put them together on the bed.
“Jake? Are you okay?”
Jake’s shoulders tensed before turning back to her, his eyes shielded by a strand of her. “What are you doing here, Charlie? How did you find me?”
Charlie sighed, raising a hand to her shoulder to press on a tense muscle. “It wasn’t easy, I’m gonna give you that. But I knew what to look for and how to do it.”
“How? I mean, I didn’t know you could hack someone if you wanted to.”
“Well,” Charlie smiled, walking to one of the chairs. “I do have a few aces up my sleeve too. And after everything that happened, Richy, Thomas and Jessy finding the kidnapper and being so close they could’ve gotten caught, that last call from the kidnapper, I just…” Charlie sighed, burying her head in her hands. “I just needed not to be alone. And seeming as I promised you I wouldn’t go to Duskwood, I’m here. I’m sorry.”
She heard the other chair scrape the floor before she felt Jake’s hands on hers. He held them on her knees, his eyes staring at her. There were a few streaks of blue in them. “You don’t have to be sorry. I—I know it’s hard to be alone, believe me. And you’ll always be welcome by my side but Charlie… You’re putting yourself in risk by coming here.”
Charlie laughed humourleslly, pulling her hands from Jake’s and standing up. “Putting myself at risk? More than I already am? Have you seen everything that has happened since I joined the group? Richy being marked and then stabbed, Jessy getting attacked, Phil going to prison. Even you, Jake! I mean, they only found you because you were helping me, otherwise, Lilly wouldn’t even know about you and you wouldn’t have been included in the video. Did you listen to that last call the kidnapper made to me? Did you hear him saying he’s going to kill all of them and then me? How much more at risk can I be in after that?”
Jake didn’t say anything but Charlie could feel his eyes on her as she started to pace around the room. She avoided looking at him, breathing deeply to keep her emotions in check; the last thing she needed was to break down now. They still had a lot of work to do and she hadn’t heard anything from the others for hours and it was all starting to get too much. What if Jessy and Thomas were caught in the end? Did the Man Without a Face know where they live? Would he go after them like he said he would? What if the only thing she would find out would be the police calling to tell her all of them were dead? What she would do them? It would all be her fault, she would have let them all get killed and—
“Hey! Charlie! Look at me.” Jake’s hands were on her face, forcing Charlie to look into his eyes. “Breathe with me, okay? Come on. I don’t want you to pass out.”
Charlie took a deep breath, following Jake’s movements, looking into his eyes and trying to count all the different colours in them.When she finally calmed down, Jake helped her sit back on the chair, squeezing her shoulder caringly. Charlie watched as he opened the take-out bags, getting a little of each container on a plate before placing it on her hands. He then did the same with another plate and sat in front of her again, their knees touching as he stared into her eyes.
“I always find it easy to do things if I’m not hungry or even if I’m eating just because. I know it can also help with anxiety if you’re the type of person that eats when anxious, which, and I’m making an educated guess here, you are.”
She chuckled softly, looking down at the plate. “You do know how to make educated guesses. I’m guessing you like to eat while you hack into things?”
Jake shrugged, taking a bite of his food before replying, “I do. Clears my head and makes me less anxious.” Charlie nodded, trying some of the fried rice while ignoring Jake’s gaze. “Charlie, you know you can trust me, right? I know I’ve some mistakes along the way but it was never my intention to put you or any of them in danger. Whatever it is you’re feeling, I want you to know I’m here for you. You can tell me anything.”
“I know, Jake.” Charlie gave him a small smile and shrugged. “It’s just… I have never felt so powerless before, you know? I’m not the kind of person that likes to be controlled, that’s why I know how to fight, why I try to learn a little of everything to have at least some kind of knowledge if I meet someone that wants to talk or do something I’m not familiar with. But now?” Sighing, she looked back down to her food, pushing it around with her fork. “When Jessy was attacked, I couldn’t do anything but watch. The same thing with all the threatening calls and the in-site search and then with Richy—” Charlie’s voice broke and she swallowed back a sob. She felt Jake put a hand on one of her knees, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I had to hear him struggle without being able to do anything. Then I had to watch him choke on his own blood as he tried to tell me something I have no idea what it is. After he dropped the phone, I stared at it for so long, just looking at the sky, waiting, wishing for him to take the phone back, to say it was a joke.” Charlie’s eyes filled with tears and she put the plate on the table. “God, I wish this was all just a bad joke. A really, really bad joke.”
Arms closed around her shoulders and Charlie buried her face on Jake’s stomach, finally feeling the dam break. Jake only rubbed at her back, not saying anything.
“How many of them am I going to have to watch get attacked, Jake? Or killed? Jessy and Thomas barely escaped without any scratches from that house. Dan almost got killed in that accident. Even Cleo’s mom was threatened because of me. How much guilt do you think I can still take it? How much suffering can I put people through because I’m the one who’s a threat to the kidnapper?”
Jake let out a heavy sigh, hugging her tighter before letting go and kneeling in front of her. He took her face in his hands and raised her head so he could look straight into her eyes. “Charlie, I can’t answer that. Not so long ago, you asked me if I thought we had gone too far and I answered how far was too far when it came to someone’s life. You told me it was as soon as someone else was in danger and I see now that you were right. I’ve been so preoccupied with Hannah because she’s my sister and she and Lilly are my only family that I didn’t stop to think that everyone in the group mean something to you; they’re your friends, too.” Charlie nodded, feeling Jake clean a tear form her cheek. “And I should’ve seen that. I know I’m not the best at… understanding other people but I should’ve realized that everything that has happened had to have taken a toll on you just as it did when I saw Hannah getting kidnapped. Even worse because you had to experience things no one ever should have. And I’m so sorry, Charlie, I truly am.”
Charlie smiled sadly, placing a hand on Jake’s cheek. “You remember when I said I thought your eyes would look familiar to me?” He nodded, his expression changing to confusion. “This is what I meant. Even with everything that has happened, I can see everything you’ve shown me through the texts in your eyes. I can see your empathy, I can see how much you care about Hannah and finding her, and I can see your guilt too. Because you also feel it, don’t you? You feel like it’s your fault Hannah was kidnapped; because you weren’t fast enough to call to her.”
“You know,” Jake smiled, turning his head so he could kiss her palm. “You never cease to amaze me. You sometimes understand stuff in a way I can only dream of. Sometimes you know things I’d rather not have anyone know to not let them get too close but I can’t hide anything from you.”
“Well, you actually can hide things from me, for a while. I’ll just end up finding out anyway.”
“That is true. Just like you found out where I was. I’m still amazed by it, to be honest.”
“Okay, it actually wasn’t that hard either.” Jake raised an eyebrow at her and Charlie laughed, gently pushing him away so she could stand up. “I shouldn’t explain just to leave you curious about it and see what it’s like when you keep things from me. But I’m not that mean.”
Jake smiled, following her towards the kitchen. “That you really aren’t. Sarcastic, yes. Stubborn? Don’t even need to answer that. But mean? No, not really. So, how did you do it?”
“Well,” Charlie toyed with the glass in her hands. “Nym-0s is already connected to my phone, that’s why he was able to warm me of the attacks, right?” Jake hummed. “Which means it’s easier for me to actually get into your phone. And considering you weren’t expecting me to hack it, it means there are fewer protections against me. I only needed your location, which is fast to find, and here I am.”
“Who would’ve thought? Tricked by my own program.”
Charlie chuckled, placing the glass back on the sink and stepping towards Jake. “I’m happy you did or I wouldn’t have found you. And I really needed to find you.”
Jake’s expression softened and he opened his arms. Charlie didn’t hesitate before stepping into his embrace. “I think I needed you to find me too. You have no idea how many times I thought about asking where you were or for you to come to me, just so we could meet. Going through all of this alone is incredibly hard.”
She scoffed, shaking her head against his chest. “You can say that again. It’s also, like… I could’ve gone to Duskwood. I know I promised you I wouldn’t, but you wouldn’t be very surprised if I did.” Jake chuckled and hummed. “But I don’t know… I know everyone there is suffering too and would help and comfort me as much as they could, but none of them are you.”
“I know how you feel. I could’ve gone too. I mean, my two half-sisters are there and Lilly is probably suffering a lot more than I am, but it wouldn’t be the same as if I was with you. I felt a lot better talking to you by text than I would’ve if I had gone there. But now that you’re here,” Jake raised her head and Charlie could feel the ghost of his lips on hers. “I feel like I can take on the whole world and win.”
“You do know I don’t make you invincible, right?”
“Certainly feels like it.”
Charlie chuckled, shaking her head. “I feel invincible by your side too. Anyone comes our way, I’ll kick their asses.”
“I know you will.”
They stared at each other, their lips so close it was unnerving, and Charlie wasn’t sure what to do; she wanted nothing more than to just close the damn distance already, but she wasn’t sure if she could. How would Jake react if she did? Did he want it as much as her or would he panic and run away? She sure wouldn’t be able to take it if he did.
In the end, she didn’t have to do anything: Jake bent down and pressed their lips together, so softly Charlie sighed and melted against him, putting one arm around his waist and the other in his hair. Jake’s arms sneaked around her waist, pulling her even closer to him, and Charlie was sure they’d soon become, though she would never complain.
When they let go of each other, Charlie stared up at him with a smile, giddiness bubbling in her chest. Jake mirrored her smile, which only made her heart beat faster. Things weren’t okay yet and they still had a lot to do, but, like she said, as long as they were together, they were invincible and they would find a way to fix everything.
#duskwood#duskwood everbyte#everbyte studios#jake#duskwood jake#hacker boy#mc#duskwood mc#jake x mc#duskwood jake x mc#duskwood fanfiction#ep 8#spoilers ep 8#duskwood spoilers
115 notes
·
View notes
Text
Because Hearts Get Broken (Part 1/3)
Synopsis: When your whole life you’ve been taught to push your feelings away, it’s hard to open up, even to the people you trust most. And sometimes what you give isn’t enough.
Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader
Genre: angst
Warnings: sad. just angsty and sad. swearing; emotionally closed reader
Word count: 2904
Y/N had never been the kind of person who talks about her feelings. It didn’t matter if it was friends or family; her mindset was – they’re my problems, so you don’t have to worry your head about it.
In relationships, it wasn’t any better, in fact, it was kinda worse. It was extremely difficult for the girl to open up to her partner, which in turn she’d let so many possible relationships pass her by. Not to mention, when she was in one, they slowly deteriorated because of her inability to share with them. Which is why it didn’t come as much of a surprise when it happened between her and Harry.
Somehow unconsciously Y/N had been almost preparing herself, preparing her heart for it to break. When he walked inside his place, she’d been there to prepare them a meal in. They’d both had a stressful couple of weeks with Harry starting off on a new album endeavour, while Y/N’s boss was practically threatening to rip her head off, as she scrambled to finish everything, even though the deadlines were months away.
It just all kind of came crashing down on her when her boss suddenly called her up, telling her to rush back to the office, and when Y/N asked if it could wait until the morning, the ultimatum came that if she wanted her job, she’d do it then and there.
“Hey.” She hadn’t heard Harry come in, only noticed it when his arm wrapped around her shaking shoulders. “Hey, shh, come ‘ere.”
Slowly, he laid the two of them down, letting her head be tucked beneath his chin, as his palm rubbed soothing circles on her back. “ ‘S gonna be okay, dove. ‘S gonna be alright. Come on, now.”
They laid like that for about five minutes, until Y/N pushed her face away from Harry’s chest and laid her cheek there, taking in a few short, shaky breaths, and steadying herself by placing her palm on his chest and feeling the steady thuds of his heart.
“Wanna talk about it?” he muttered in her Y/H/C locks, placing a soft kiss to the crown of her head, but she sighed, shaking her head no.
“ ‘S fine. Overreacted.”
“You were sitting on the couch, crying and hyperventilating, dove. Obviously, something’s wrong.”
“Harry,” Y/N let out a long breath. “Can you please just let it go? It’s nothing major. If it was, I’d tell you.”
“Would you though?” The whisper went almost unnoticed, but Y/N did hear it, and it made her eyebrows furrow and push herself up from where they’d been nestled together.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean.” Harry bit the inside of the cheek. “When is the last time you ever told me what’s bothering you? Like really, truly made you upset?”
“What are you implying?” Y/N’s voice had gone steely, almost emotionless, as her brain pretty much screamed ‘it’s happening’.
“How can I help you when you don’t let me in?” His gaze was pleading, as his hands grasped onto her cheeks.
“You’re not supposed to.”
“Pardon?”
Y/N sighed and stood up from the couch, letting his touch fall away. “You’re not supposed to. They’re my problems to deal with, not yours, so you’re not supposed to help me. And there’s nothing to help me with.”
“Do you not trust me?”
“Of course, I trust you,” she scoffed as if it was the most ridiculous question in the world. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“How are we supposed to be in a relationship, if you don’t trust me?”
“I dunno,” Y/N whispered hugging herself. Sometimes she hated how her brain worked, but it was inevitable, right? It always came to this, so why not be the bad guy in the situation. “Maybe we’re not supposed to then.”
Harry was more than stunned at her reply. Not once during their relationship, he'd thought that her immediate reaction to a problem would be to immediately dismiss their love. "You - you don't mean that."
"Well," Y/N sniffled wiping at her cheeks where new tears were trailing down, "maybe I do. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. I mean they do say the first year is spent with rose-coloured glasses on, right? 'S time to take 'em off."
“So that’s it? You’re giving up just like that?”
“What do you want me to do?” Y/N exasperated throwing her hands up. “It’s the way I am, and I can’t change that. And if you can’t accept it, then yeah, maybe I am giving up just like that.”
Harry shook his head in disbelief. “I –,” he stammered, “I can’t believe this.”
“What do you want from me, Harry?”
“To fight!” He was practically yelling at this point, hoping to see some kind of emotion on Y/N’s face. “To let me in! To – to – fuck! To start trusting me!”
“I do trust you!”
“But not enough to trust me with your heart.”
A deafening silence fell over both of them because without needing a confirmation, Harry knew he’d struck gold. God, how he wished he hadn’t, but the numb expression Y/N's face morphed into told him enough.
“I’m giving you what I can.” Y/N’s voice was quiet, resolute. “And if that’s not something you can accept, then this is it.”
Now Harry was the silent one. But sometimes you don’t need words to say everything you mean.
“Okay then.” She nodded, went to the mantlepiece and took her clutch. “I’ll see ya around, I guess.”
And with that Y/N walked out of Harry’s apartment without a glance back.
***
Two and a half months later and he still couldn’t understand how everything had gone so wrong. He was at the New Year party, and Y/N was there too, courtesy of Sarah, who was their mutual friend and hosted it each year. This one was a lot more intimate, seeing as the pandemic, though contained, was still raging on, so only the closest and most important people in her life had been invited. Sarah'd been actually the one who introduced the two. Well, more so given them a shove in the right direction. A literal one at that.
The night had been absolute chaos and became an even bigger one when Y/N entered his life, Harry recalled. Drinks were flowing, bodies were moving in an erratic rhythm, most of them completely unaware of how the music boomed while voices shouted the incorrect lyrics and glasses clinked as everyone celebrated the upcoming year, buzzing with excitement as they waited for the countdown. That’s when Sarah, pulling a woman by her arm stormed towards Harry and pushed her into his chest.
“Do not let her leave your sight!” she’d hollered over the music, as Harry blinked at his drummer. “And you!” Sarah pointed at the woman, who giggled, hiding behind her champagne glass and slinking further down Harry’s frame, so much so, he had to grab onto her armpits otherwise she would fall. “Behave for at least five minutes! I need to check up on Mitch before he decides vodka would be a good addition and completely destroys the room.”
With that Sarah was gone, brown hair swishing in a high ponytail, leaving Harry confused and concerned as this stranger snickered behind Sarah’s back, showing her tongue like a child would.
“Umm,” he started not really knowing what to do. “You alright there?”
“ ‘M Y/N.” She leaned up with as much grace as a drugged-up cat, spun around to face him and extended her hand to him, and he took it, giving it a firm shake. “And I might be a lil’ bit drunk.”
A chuckle escaped his lips. “You don’t say?”
“I do.” Y/N nodded confidently about her statement as she swayed on her feet. Harry had to grab her by the shoulder for the woman to remain somewhat upright. “And when I’m drunk, I thrive on chaos.”
“Is that why Sarah shoved you to me so I can babysit you?”
“See, she just doesn’t appreciate me and my talents. She thinks that I’m ‘unreliable’.” Y/N put the word in quotation marks, and in doing so, half her champagne spilt out of the flute. “And she thinks I need ‘supervision’.” There went the other half. “Honestly, it’s Sarah that needs to be looked after. It’s not me that set the curtains on fire.”
But the look on her face told Harry something different, and a smile bloomed on his face. “You set the curtains on fire?”
“I just told you, I didn’t.”
“Yes, well, your face is telling me a different story.”
Instantly Y/N facepalmed. “Stupid face. Can’t keep in check. Listen, the curtains were just…” She waved her hand around. “In the way of the flame. ‘S not my fault they’re made from such flammable material. Should’ve gotten more fire-resistant curtains, if you ask me.”
“Note taken – don’t let you near anything that can be set on fire or is fire.”
Y/N scoffed and gave Harry a side-eye. “As if you can tell me what to do. I shouldn’t even be talking to you.”
“And why's that?”
“Stranger danger.” Y/N wagged her free index finger in Harry’s face accentuating each syllable.
“Well then, let’s not be strangers.” He extended his hand just as Y/N had and waited until she took it. “ ‘M name’s Harry.”
“Good to meet you, Harry. Now, Sarah said nothing about not letting me dance, so come on! I love this song!” she exclaimed, making Harry throw his head back in laughter as she dragged him to the middle of the room, bodies grinding against them, but it didn’t really matter. Not when Y/N made Harry feel as if it was just the two of them in the world.
“Do you now?”
“Yes! Especially when he does the ‘da – dananana da – dananana’ part.” Her eyes went wide with excitement and pride. “Sarah’s in this song as well! She's the drummer!”
His eyebrow quirked up in amusement. Y/N clearly had no idea who she was talking to, and he was kind of loving her for it. Most of the time, as flattering as it was, it could become quite taxing when people recognised you with every step of the way. He wasn’t really allowed to have his smile leave his face, nor was he allowed to stay too lost in his thoughts, needing to be on constant alert if someone asked something.
But Y/N seemed to not care, and something in Harry told him – she wouldn’t care about it if she knew the truth.
“Wanna hear a secret?”
Y/N gasped, eyes twinkling in the disco ball light. “Of course! I love secrets.”
“I’m Harry!”
“I know you’re Harry. You said it already.”
Her confused face made his smile widen even more. “No, I mean I’m Harry. Harry Styles. This is my song.”
And then it dawned on her inebriated brain. “Ooh. You’re Harry Styles!”
“Yeah.”
“Good for you then!” And she put up her hand in a high-five, and he couldn’t leave her just hanging like that, belly-shaking laughter erupting from him before he weaved their fingers together and spun her around.
That night had been one of the best New Year’s he’d ever had. Throughout the hour before the clock struck 12, she’d sobered up enough that when Harry asked if he could kiss her, she was coherent and could say yes. It’d been the best kiss of their lives by that point.
But now, seeing Y/N walk around Sarah’s apartment a smile on her face that he recognised to be fake, and laughter ringing in his ears that he knew wasn’t true, made him look back at that night and wonder if she’d been truly happy then.
She definitely seemed to have been, fuck, Harry hoped she was happy for at least some of it; that when Y/N said she was alright, she’d truly meant it, otherwise, he had no idea what he’d do with himself, but in all honesty, despite the fallout between the two, what he wished was for her to come back. To give him the slightest glimpse into what worried her. That would be enough.
In the beginning, Harry supposed, it was his own fault. He’d thought Y/N was just strong, she was so level-headed that whenever something was wrong, it was tackled immediately and righted that exact second, but in truth, it was just hiding, putting on a performance and living through a smile that was a complete lie.
He saw Sarah lean into Y/N and whisper something in her ear before her head snapped in Harry’s direction, Y/E/C eyes meeting his. He then watched her let out a breath, give Sarah a small smile and look at him once more before approaching, Harry’s own back straightening out as she opened the balcony door and entered his space.
She was a vision, a black and gold glitter romper covering her body, cinched at the waist with a solid gold-colour metal band, while the sleeves fluttered off in a ‘Morticia Addams’ style, as Y/N liked to call it, with her hair out of the way of her face in a simple knot at the base of her neck. Easy to make and easy to take out.
“Bobby pins are the creations of the Devil,” she’d muttered one night after they’d gone to some Hollywood event. Harry couldn't even remember what it'd been for, most of his focus on making sure his date was alright.
One by one she'd untwisted and twirled the metal pins out of her head. “Fucking, scraping my brain from the outside of my skull.”
Harry had chuckled, untying the lace front of his blouse style shirt. “Wanna massage?”
The affirmative groan made him grin like a child on Christmas.
Y/N was the one to break the silence, after having her eyes rake over his own form. A fitted chequered suit paired with a simple dress shirt and chequered moccasins. One of the tamer looks for him, but he wasn’t feeling very festive this year.
“Hey.”
Harry sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. “Hi.”
God, how had everything become so fucking awkward between them?
“How,” she cleared her throat, “how are you?”
“Honestly?” Harry wanted to spit out the ‘I’m fine’, the line that was so overused by her it’d lost its meaning, but he couldn’t. He’d always been an open book, especially with Y/N, so he told her the truth. “I’m hurting.”
“Harry…” Her eyes met the floor unable to hold his green gaze.
“Every day I wake up, and I’m in pain. And it’s not getting easier. And it won’t. Not for a long while.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry.” He laughed even though he didn’t mean it. “I just wanted you to talk to me. You know I’d never judge you.”
“It’s not about that…”
“Then what is it?” Harry snapped. “Because I’m at a fucking loss here. Have been for the past two and a half months.”
“It’s not easy when…” Y/N actually bit down on her tongue to not let the words out. She took in a calm, collected breath; then she continued. “It’s not easy to open up like you want me to when my whole life I’ve been taught to just push it down. Push it away, forget about it. I don’t know a different life. That’s my normal, that’s what I know. I know you wouldn’t have judged me, you’re not that kind of a person. But it’s not even about that. It’s… it’s… why couldn’t you have just left everything at ‘I’m fine’?”
“Because I don’t want to be fine,” he said, sad eyes looking right through her, right through to Y/N’s being. “I – I wanna be great, and ecstatic and fucking exhilarated or hurting or sad, even devastated. I want to feel things. And I want to share them with the person I trust most. I wanna share them with you. And I want you to share your emotions with me too. It’s not your job to carry the weight of the world on your own. That’s what a partner is there for.”
Y/N broke away from Harry’s eyes given how her own were now lined with tears that threatened to slip down her cheeks. She sniffled, using the sleeve of her romper to press against her nose.
New Years. When the previous one had started off with so much love and hope and laughter and the new one seemed to only show it had tears and heartache ahead. God, this was the worst holiday in existence.
“Ten, nine, eight,” the people inside counted down.
“Y/N, please.” One last try. He had to.
“Seven, six, five.”
She just shrugged. “I don’t know how to be different."
“Three, two, one! Hap–“
“Happy New Year, Harry.” Y/N leaned up and pressed a lingering kiss against his cheek. “I hope you find someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved.”
With hands in her pockets, she retreated leaving him standing alone on the balcony, but right as she was about to close the sliding door, he spoke up.
“I had.”
That made Y/N spin around, cold air hitting her face just as harshly as the truth that spilt past his lips.
“Only she didn’t trust that I loved her the same.”
Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):
Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished
A/N: Part 2? maybe??
P.S. my tags are always open :)
#Harry Styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles fandom#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles angst#harry styles and y/n#golden#fine line#watermelon sugar#one direction#one direction imagine#1d#1d fan fiction#adore you#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagines
338 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Star
Ship: Logince (Logan x Roman)
Summary: Logan’s dream of becoming an astronaut is going to come true in just two weeks. Roman wants to be excited for him, but it’s hard.
Word Count: 1,564
Warnings: human au, brief blood, concussion, most likely incorrect medical stuff
~
Ever since Logan Milgram was a young boy, his greatest wish was to be an astronaut. Every night he’d look at the night sky in wonder and curiosity, wanting more than anything to know what it would be like to be among the stars. He thought maybe he could catch one in a Tupperware holder and bring it home for his mother. You can imagine his disappointment when he found out stars only looked that small because of how very far away they were. Still, his yearning to go to space stayed strong. Logan studied hard in school, graduating as one of his year’s valedictorians. He went to college to get a degree in mathematics, and there he met the star he could keep for himself, his boyfriend, Roman Charming. Now, he was so close to his goal. He was almost there. He was a perfect height of six feet and one inch. He had over one thousand hours of jet pilot experience. He had 20/20 vision. He was scheduled to blast off on an eleven-month-long mission in just two weeks, and Logan was spending every free moment with his boyfriend, treasuring each second before they had to be apart.
Hand in hand, Logan and Roman walked along a trail through the forest in the late evening, the light of the full moon shining through the trees lighting their way. Roman was clinging to Logan’s arm, his head resting against it. Roman suddenly paused, forcing Logan to do the same. He followed Roman’s gaze to the starry sky above them. They had walked into a small clearing from the trees and could clearly see all the twinkling lights above them.
“That’s gonna be you up there soon,” Roman said, glancing up a Logan.
“Yeah,” Logan said, his voice quiet. As he continued to stare up at the sky, he heard a small whimper from beside him. He looked over and realized Roman had started crying. He frowned and pulled his arm from Roman’s grip, quickly wrapping both his arms around him instead. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, baby. You’ll be okay.” He brought one hand up to his cheek and wiped away his tears with his thumb.
“Will you?” Roman asked, his voice wavering as he looked back up at Logan. Logan stayed silent for a moment before nodding.
“Yeah,” he said. “I will. I promise.” He hugged Roman tighter. “And I’ll miss you every second that I’m away.”
“I’ll miss you too,” Roman said, pulling away. He smiled. “But… but I’ll also be happy knowing you’re living your dream.”
“Actually, about that—"
“Come on, let’s keep walking,” Roman said before Logan could finish. He turned and watched Roman walk away, a fond smile on his face and a hand in his pocket. He shook his head and started after him. There was plenty of more time to do what he’d planned, so he moved on. As he was catching up to Roman, he glanced up at the sky again, gasping when he saw a large chunk of rock falling from the cliff they were walking near.
“Roman, watch out!” he shouted, dashing forward, passing Roman, and pulling him out of the way. Luckily, neither got hit by the rock, but as Logan was moving back, his head knocked against the cliff wall and he suddenly fell unconscious.
“Logan?!” Roman exclaimed, dropping to his knees beside his boyfriend and pulling his head into his lap. He gasped when he realized his hand was now covered in blood.
“I heard a loud crash. Is everything alright over here?” another hiker asked, running towards them. Roman shook his head, starting to cry.
“My boyfriend! He hit his head and he’s bleeding and now he’s unconscious!” Roman said, his eyes not leaving Logan. He heard a tearing sound, then saw two strong, hairy arms wrap a piece of cloth around Logan’s head. Roman looked up and realized the cloth had come from the stranger’s sleeve.
“Come on, let’s get him to the hospital. Call an ambulance to meet us at the entrance to the trail,” the hiker instructed, scooping Logan up like he was just a light strand of ribbon. Roman blinked a couple of times before processing what the hiker had said and getting out his phone.
~ ~ ~
“Thank you so much for helping us,” Roman said as he stood in the emergency room with the hiker that had helped him, waiting for news from the doctor.
“Not a problem,” the stranger said. “My name’s Patton, by the way.”
“Well, thank you, Patton. I’m Roman,” Roman said.
“Mr. Charming?” Roman spun around to see the doctor approaching him. “Your boyfriend should be waking up soon. You may go in to be there when he does.”
“Is he okay?” Roman asked.
“He has a concussion but should make a steady recovery. Unfortunately, there was some damage to the connection between his brain and his eyes, so he may wake up with blurry vision,” the doctor explained. Roman’s heart sunk.
“Blurry vision?” he repeated. “Will it be permanent? How bad will it be? Can it be fixed with laser eye surgery?” he asked rapidly.
“If he has it, it will be permanent. We cannot tell the severity until he wakes up,” the doctor told him. “Now, would you like to go to his room?” Roman nodded slowly, a feeling of dread bubbling up inside of him. He followed the doctor to Logan’s room and sat down in the chair next to his bed. He sniffled and hugged his and Logan’s coats. He stared worriedly at his lover until his eyes grew droopy and he began to doze off.
~ ~ ~
“Roman? Is that you?”
Roman’s head jerked up when he heard Logan’s voice. He lunged forward and took Logan’s hand into his, squeezing it tightly.
“I’m right here, baby,” he said. “Can you see me? Please tell me you can see me.” Logan squinted at him.
“Yes, but… you’re a little blurry. Behind you is very blurry,” Logan told him. Roman let out a sob. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I ruined your dream!” Roman said. “You’ll never be happy and it’s all my fault!”
“What do you mean? Roman, is this..?” Logan trailed off. Roman sobbed again and nodded.
“It’s permanent!” he said. “I’m so sorry, Logan! I ruined everything for you! I should’ve been paying attention, but I was too caught up in thinking about…” He stopped.
“Thinking about what?”
“Thinking about how much I wanted you to stay,” Roman admitted. “It was my own stupid selfishness!”
“Roman, please don’t cry,” Logan said.
“How can I not? You can’t be an astronaut anymore. You can’t live your dream,” Roman said, wiping his eyes.
“Roman, going to space may have been part of my ambitions, but you, Sunshine, you are my only dream,” Logan told him. “That’s why there was something I wanted to do tonight before I left earth. Now I guess I have a lot more time, but… I don’t think I can wait any longer. Where’s my coat?”
Roman had it in his lap underneath his. He sniffled and handed it to Logan. Logan smiled and searched through the pockets, eventually finding and pulling out a small black box.
“Roman Charming, from the moment I met you, you became my source of light in my darkest moments. You inspire and encourage me every day to keep pushing forward. I have no idea where I’d be without you but I sure as hell wouldn’t have managed to get this far. I want the rest of my life to be as wonderful as the past five years of knowing you have been. So, with that being said…” Logan opened the black box to reveal a golden, star-shaped ring. “Roman, my star, will you marry me?”
Roman slapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes filling up with a new wave of tears, these ones different than the previous.
“Yes!” he finally manages to squeak out. Logan slipped the ring onto his finger and pulled Roman onto the hospital bed, kissing him lovingly.
“I don’t have to say goodbye to you,” Logan laughed cheerfully after they pulled apart. “Oh my god, Roman, you have no idea—I had no idea how badly I wanted an excuse not to go.”
“R-really?” Roman asked. Logan nodded, then winced, his head hurting.
“Yes, really,” he said, kissing him again. “I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you. Not for that long.” He pressed another kiss to his lips. “If we weren’t in a hospital bed, I’d be doing so much more to you right now.” Roman giggled.
“Logan! Calm down, you’ve got a concussion,” Roman scolded playfully.
“Alright, alright,” Logan said, lying back. “I love you, Sunshine.”
“I love you too.”
Bonus:
Roman stood when he heard the front door opening. He rushed over to it, excited to see how Logan would look in his first pair of glasses. He grinned as soon as their eyes met. He looked positively adorable!
“Oh, Logan, honey, you look so handsome!” he said, clasping his hands together in front of his chest. Logan just stared at him. “Well, how do you like them?” He continued to stare. “Logan?”
“I almost forgot how beautiful you are,” Logan whispered. He stepped forward, grabbing Roman’s face in his hands and kissing him.
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
Incorrect Quotes 4
Ships:
Errorink (lol I dont have much Errorink in my posts still, sorry)
Kreme/Driller
Crossmare
Dustberry
Horrorlust
Scifell
Afterdeath
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Geno, to Ink: I dare you to—
Dream: Ink isn’t allowed to accept dares.
Ink: Apparently I have ”no regard for my personal safety”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dust: Do you miss the imagination of childhood?
Cross: I never had one.
Dust: An imagination or a childhood?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Horror: *accidentally hits Error in the face*
Horror: *trying to decide between saying “I’m fucking sorry” and “are you okay?”
Horror: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer: Do you like my outfit?
Dream: Not as much as I like what's underneath it.
Killer, blushing: I- Dre-
Dream: I need your chair. Get up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Horror: Do you know when you know someone, and you see that they have another, like, life away from you and it feels weird?
Dust: Like when you see your teacher in the grocery store weird, or like when someone you’ve known for a long time starts wearing a cowboy hat weird?
Horror: The… The first thing weird
Dust: Oh, that’s good, ‘Cause I was thinking about getting a cowboy hat
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cross: You read my diary?!
Dream: At first, I didn’t know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lust: Sorry, but you're under arrest for robbery.
Horror: What did I steal?
Lust, trying not to cry: My heart
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dream: Killer and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us
Cross: *Sighing* What did Killer do?
Dream: They chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...
Killer: Who wants a steering wheel?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dream: *holding a bottle* Is this whiskey or perfume?
Killer: *chugs entire bottle*
Killer: It’s perfume.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today.
Dream: *walks in covered with ink* Well, maybe the squid was being a jerk!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer, tending to Dream's wounds: How would you rate your pain?
Dream: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works.
Horror, drinking toast: Why do you say that?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dust: Lol heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this lmfao
Horror: What did you do!?
Dust: A MISTAKE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dust, addressing the squad: And if you have any suggestions feel free to put them in the suggestion box.
Horror: But – that’s just a trash can.
Dust: It sure is!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dream: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fell: I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives
Sci: I wake up at 4:30 AM
Fell:
Fell: I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sci: If you were to vacuum up jello through a metal tube, well I think that’d be a neat noise
Fell: I beg to differ
Sci: Then Beg
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dust: You’re a lying, cheating, piece of shit! You’re not the person I married!
Blue: Fine then! We’re getting a divorce! And i’m taking the kids!
Dream, pushing the monopoly board away from them: …maybe we should stop playing…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dream: I relate to Belle because she loves books and likes people for who they are!
Ink: I relate to Tinkerbell because she needs attention or she dies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer: *dials 911*
Killer: hey i hate to be “that guy” but i glued myself to the ceiling again
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ink: Things have actually been going really well with Error. Our friendship is in a really good place.
Ink: Last week I said, “Did you know the weiner dog is neither a weiner nor a dog?” Instead of saying, “Shut up, Ink,” they said, “Okay.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lust: *signs a legal document with a glitter gel pen*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Horror, dumping out a shopping bag full of Lunchables onto the table: Tonight, we feast.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Error or Nightmare: *kicks “G” off Graveyard sign*
Error or Nightmare: Let’s get this party started.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reaper: Did Geno just tell me they loved me for the first time?
Cross: Yeah.
Reaper: And did I do finger guns back?
Cross: Yeah, you did.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sci: Name one time I haven’t acted professional
Geno: You’re holding a juice box right now
Sci: It’s to stop me from spilling my juice.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*The Bad Sanses response to I love you*
Killer: Thanks fam!
Horror: oh no
Dust: *cries* I love you too
Cross: Sounds fake but okay
Error: *A flustered mess*
Nightmare: can i get a refund
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sci: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous.
Blue: What if it bites me and it dies!?
Sci: Then you’re poisonous.
Dream: What if it bites itself and I die?
Sci: That’s voodoo.
Error: What if it bites me and someone else dies?
Sci: That’s correlation, not causation.
Horror: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die?
Ink & Killer at the same time: That’s kinky.
Sci: Oh my God.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blue: Truth or dare?
Lust: Dare
Blue: I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room
Lust: Hey Ink.
Ink: Yeah?
Lust: Could you move? I’m trying to get to Geno.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer: Let me show you a picture from last night that really upset me
Horror: Okay, but in my defense, Dust bet me 50 cents I couldn’t drink all that shampoo.
Killer: That’s not what I wanted to- you drank SHAMPOO?!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*The group is getting into the car*
Lust: I’m driving.
Geno, out of view: Shotgun!
Sci, turning to face Geno: Aww! But you had it on the way here-
Everyone except Geno: WOAH-
Geno, holding a shotgun: No! I found a shotgun! And I want the front seat! *Pumps gun*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A random stranger: Go to Hell
Nightmare, tearing up: I wish I could
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Error: Dear friends, your Christmas gift this year… is me. That’s right, another year of friendship. Your membership has been renewed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blue: I’m going to defeat you with the power of friendship! ... And this knife I found.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dust: My life isn’t as glamorous as my wanted poster makes it look like.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer: You know how I roll.
Killer: And I’m not talking about that time I fell into a pile of dung at the foot of a hill.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dream: Physically, yes, I could fight a bird. But emotionally? Imagine the toll.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer: You seem familiar, have I threatened you before?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blue: Look. I may not be a saint, but it's not like I’ve killed anybody. I’m not an arsonist. I’ve never found a wallet outside of an IHOP and thought about returning it but saw the owner lived out of state so just took the cash and dropped the wallet back on the ground.
Fell: Okay, that's really specific, and that makes me think that you definitely did do that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Horror: Man, I only ever see you awake, do you ever shut down or stop running?
Dust: Oh, I’m always running
Dust: The question is from what
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blue: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE
Fell: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially
Blue, desperately, as Fell bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE
Fell: Oh! B positive.
Blue: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE
Fell:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Horror: So what’s for dinner?
Dust, staring at the food they just burnt: Regret.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nightmare: Hey, you want some leftovers?
Cross: What's that?
Nightmare: You've never had leftovers???
Cross: No, because I'm not a quitter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nightmare: You often use humor to deflect trauma
Cross: Thank you
Nightmare: I didn't say that was a good thing
Cross: What I'm hearing is, you think I'm funny
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sci, pointing: May I sit there?
Fell: That's my lap
Sci: That doesn't answer my question, Fell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blue: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life
Dream: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?
Blue: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.
Ink: edible
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Can I copy the homework?'
Horror: I can help you with it!
Killer: Yeah, sure.
Dust: Bold of you to assume I did the homework.
Error: lol nope.
Cross: Wait, we had homework?!?!?!
Nightmare: *Read 5:55pm*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nightmare: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat?
Horror: >:O language
Dust: Yeah watch your fucking language
Cross: OKAY WHO TAUGHT DUST THE FUCK WORD?
Error: 'The fuck word'.
Killer: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time
Dust: Oh my god they censored it
Error: Say fuck, Killer.
Dust: Do it, Killer. Say fuck.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer: Croissants: dropped
Horror: Road: works ahead
Dust: BBQ sauce: on my titties
Cross: Shavacado: fre
Error: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead
Nightmare:
Nightmare, grumpy: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nightmare: Everytime I hear someone talking about updog, I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help them complete their joke.
Horror: Okay, but what is updog?
Dust: Updog is a long sausage in a bun, often served with ketchup, mustard, onions, and/or relish.
Cross: Not, that’s a hot dog. An updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released.
Error: No, that's an update. You’re thinking of the fourth largest city in Sweden.
Killer: Surely, that’s Uppsala, where’s updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter.
Nightmare: That’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs.
Cross: You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current.
Dust: No, that’s an updraft. An updog is the modern version of a henway.
Horror: What’s a henway??
Nightmare: Oh, about five pounds.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer: Dumbest scar stories, go!
Horror: I burned my tongue once drinking tea.
Error: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it.
Cross: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade.
Dust: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn.
Nightmare:
Nightmare: I have emotional scars.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer: *Posts a super low-quality image to the group chat*
Horror: If I had a dollar for every pixel in this image, I’d have 15 cents
Killer: If I had a dollar for every ounce of rage I felt in my body after I read this text, I would have enough money to buy a cannon to fire at you
Error: Actually I did the math, Horror would have $225, not $0.15.
Horror: Fam I’m right here....
Cross: If I had a dollar I would buy a can of soda :)
Killer: while you’re there could you buy me an apply juice please?
Cross: Sorry I only have a dollar
Killer: :(
Error: Hey I just realized my friend is right, Horror would have $22,500 because it's a dollar for every pixel, not a cent
Cross: If I had $22,500 I would buy a can of soda and an apply juice
Error: You can buy anything you want with $22,500
Dust: Yeah and they want soda and apply juice
Error: Apply juice to what
Nightmare: Directly to the forehead
Horror: Great chat everyone
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do?
Horror: Have everyone stand.
Cross: Bring three more chairs.
Error: The most important ones can sit down.
Dust: Kill three.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer: You're a loose cannon, Horror.
Horror: No, I'm not. I'm a cannon maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me?
Error: I think you play by your own rules.
Cross: No way, they think rules were made to be broken.
Killer: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon.
Horror: No, I'm just a reckless renegade. Dust is a loose cannon.
Dust: *smashes a chair*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cross: Are we really going to let Error keep Horror?
Killer: We kept Dust.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer: Good morning.
Horror: Good morning.
Error: Good morning.
Cross: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.
Dust: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Killer: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?
Horror: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies
Dust: Socks are Feetie Heaties
Cross: Forks are Stabby Grabbies
Horror: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties
Dust: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies
Cross: Stamps are Lickie Stickies
Error, annoyed: You are disappointments
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dust: What’s something you guys are better than Killer at?
Error: Mario Kart.
Cross: Yeah, video games.
Horror: Emotional vulnerability.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dust: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses.
Horror: This knife is actually a magic wand.
Cross: Meet me in the Denny’s parking lot for a wizard duel.
Killer: *cocks gun* Magic missile.
Error: What the fuck is wrong with you people.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lust: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited
Geno: If?
Sci: Great, the only party I’ve ever been invited to and he might not even die.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lust, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him
Geno: You did WHAT–
Sci: William Snakepeare
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lust: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness.
Geno: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex’s house down. You can do it. I believe in you.
Sci: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lust: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place.
Geno: You people already know too much about me.
Sci: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lust: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 million gold?
Geno: You stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house.
Sci: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 million.
Geno: Good thinking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lust: 'Person of interest' is almost too flattering.
Lust: Like, if the police were to pound on my door and go, 'A man has been murdered in your building and you are a person of interest,' I'd be like, 'Moi? Oh, do go on.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
#crossmare#cross x nightmare#horrorlust#bloodlust#horrorxlust#dustberry#swapxdust#kreme#driller#dreamxkiller#killerxdream#errorink#error x ink#scifell#sciencexfell#scixfell#afterdeath#deathafter#genoxdeath#genoxreaper
230 notes
·
View notes
Note
Any headcanons about Ever Ace and the other new A-class Evergreen ships? This totally isn’t just because I love your version of Ever Given and want more of her and her family XD
The following is an excerpt from How to Avoid Huge Ships, Or: I Never Met a Ship I Liked by Capt. John W. Trimmer (National Writers Press, 1982)
Chapter 14: The Emotional State of Ships
For most captains, the emotional state of a seagoing vessel (other than your own, of course) is often seen as irrelevant - after all, who cares if the seven hundred foot tanker about to run over you and your ketch is a nice person or not?
However, like many common beliefs in the marine industry, this is an incorrect one. The mental state of vessels is vital to continued safe navigation.
First, we must mention the obvious: An unhappy ship is a dangerous ship. Think about the last time you drove to the store while upset. Now pretend you weighed several thousand tons and required a mile and a half to stop in an emergency. I imagine your car insurance premiums might be a bit higher, no?
Then we must mention Fleets.
Allow me to explain: While this may be seen as a massively reductive statement, most large vessels (and most living machines for that matter, including commercial aircraft, railway locomotives, and even large dragline cranes) are best viewed as pack animals. When left alone to their own devices (and the growing economic benefits of 'machine autonomy' have meant that more shipping lines are allowing ships to go off by themselves!) vessels will often form a "fleet", as they call them, which substitutes for what we humans would call a joint family.
A fleet may include any number of vessels and relationship combinations, ranging from a number of single vessels who consider themselves siblings, to sets of separate married couples, and even groups of non-monogamous vessels whose conduct would make a Mormon blush. That being said, regardless of type, bonds formed in this manner are extremely strong, and will often overcome any difference between vessels - see the growing trend of former US Pacific Fleet vessels and their former Imperial Japanese Navy spouses!
Now, what does any of this have to do with the continued safety of marine navigation, I hear you ask? Well, let me put it to you in the simplest terms possible:
If you were to wrong me in some way, I might decide to take legal action against you, or I might lick my wounds and walk away. I might even go to the police if the offense were serious enough.
If you were to wrong a ship, and the offense were serious enough, they wouldn't lick their wounds, they wouldn't pursue legal action, and they most certainly would not go to the police. Most ships believe quite strongly in the merits of what could be charitably called 'extrajudicial punishment'. Most ships, if they are in such a relationship, would bring this to the attention of their fleet-mates, at which point you would not have one, but several, maybe even a dozen, extremely large and extremely angry ships going after you.
-
Of course, any discussion of the often-overlooked subject of Fleets is incomplete without at least a brief mention of the US/Canadian Great Lakes Fleet, which has managed to continuously add to their numbers through a process they call 'Lake-napping'...
-----
April, 2021 - Great Bitter Lake, Suez, Egypt
The Egyptians were insane, Given concluded. Aside from the obvious - where in the name of all that floated was she going to get nine hundred million US Dollars? - they'd actually called their Navy on her, like some kind of Triad enforcer making sure a mark didn't get away without paying.
He was a tiny ship, really - some old design that made its priorities clear, judging from his open-air flying bridge and thick hull, but the massive anti-ship missile pods on his aft deck showed he could punch well above his weight.
She'd tried speaking to him, but they didn't have a language in common - and that was impressive all on its own. From the short, clipped sentences, and badly accented Arabic, he seemed both Eastern European and decidedly unfriendly.
As the sun set on the end of the first week of what might be a very long stay in Egypt, she wondered if the line might abandon her here. The cheap fucks had already been making noise about replacing her with another, bigger ship, but Ace - still in the shipyard, but already proving herself to be just as loud and annoying as any proper 20,000+ TEU ship, bless her - had made enough noise about "not being a rebound date" that their hand had been forced.
Of course, that was all before the Egyptians decided that they wanted nine hundred million dollars, so who knows?
Another ship went by - the backlog still wasn't through, and convoys continued at all hours. This one was one from CMA CGM, and while she couldn't quite catch his name in the dark, she could absolutely catch the scathing French insults being hurled her way as he passed by.
"Je parle français, toi voilier sans hélice." She sniped at him, relishing in the startled yelp that trailed him into the night. The tugboats pulling him along laughed, and he growled at them as he moved further into the lake.
The missile boat looked at her with what might have been admiration, but it didn't stop him from keeping his guns trained on her as he changed his watch position to a spot off of her stern.
She honestly considered running - the mockery she'd get once she left Egypt might be too much.
As the next ship in line approached, she got a ping on one of the company radio frequencies.
Tuning in, her brow furrowed in confusion - now that everyone had satellite internet downlinks, internet chatrooms had become the primary communication method across the fleet. Evergreen Lines ships had all gravitated towards Discord instead of WeChat or Line, but their server had been strangely silent for most of the last week.
Opening the channel, she caught a flash of a call sign - What was Elpida doing out here? Wasn't she on the Australia run?
"Don't say a word, we've got it under control."
"You what? Who's we?"
Elpida swept past , literally - she was breaking the speed limit for this part of the lake, and had probably been doing so in the Canal too - the ropes to her tugs were taut, and judging by the Arabic screaming, they were trying to get her to slow down or at least let go. She was high in the water - her decks empty of containers - what the hell was going on?
Given was too big for the swells to affect her, but the Egyptian Navy ship wasn't, and he yelped in whatever his native language was as he rocked and rolled in Elpida's wake.
Behind her, a distant cry that sounded suspiciously like the word "Now!" rang out, followed by a deafening cacophony of foghorns.
She'd shut down her radar - because what really was the point? - and it took a worrying few seconds for the Furuno system to spin to life and return a clear result.
Or... what might be a clear result.
All hell seemed to be breaking out behind her - the convoy had broken formation and was going in what seemed like every direction possible. At least ten ships were now going berserk behind her.
The Navy ship, by far the smallest vessel out there, (except the tugs, who were fleeing for their lives, it seemed) spun around towards the main shipping lane.
Collision alarms immediately started wailing on the Canal's common channel as a very large blip on the radar screen (Who turned off their AIS transponders in the Canal?) slowly swung towards him.
The Egyptian seemed stunned for a moment - he'd drifted back into Given's range of vision, and his expression ranged between sheer horror and mildly poleaxed - before he calmed himself and stood down the ship bearing down on him.
That calm look lasted for a few minutes, but as the blip got closer and closer his confidence faded. The doors to his missile pods swung open, but his nerve broke before he could fire them, and the water around his stern frothed up into a roiling tempest as he set off at full astern.
It wasn't enough. He'd held his ground for just long enough for the other ship to reach him.
Slowly - this whole event was playing out in breathless slow motion, because nobody was actually that speedy - a bulbous bow, riding high out of the water without a load of containers, ploughed towards him. It was followed by a bowsprit, one that was so huge it looked like it could have been Given's own.
Then came the name: EVER ACE.
Then came the collision.
Ace (?!) didn't so much collide with the Egyptian ship as she drove over him. His low freeboard meant that the impact with her bulbous bow had his far side dipping into the water. Once his deck hit the swells, it acted like a giant scoop, and his keel was to the night sky within a few seconds. He'd been hit at an angle, so once he'd been pushed free, he slowly rolled back up, a much more traumatized and injured vessel than he had been a minute ago. More importantly, the water gushing out of his missile tubes meant that he was no longer a problem.
"Hey!" Ace boomed as her pilothouse drew even with Given. "Best Sea Trials Ever!"
Behind her, another ship - this one laden and looking a lot like Golden - steamed by. "Stop hanging around and get her out of here!"
"That would be my cue." Another voice called from behind her.
"Tex?" He was in Manila!
"Who else would it be?" Texas Triumph, thick Texan accent and all, steamed up. "now let's jus' get you settled up here and we'll blow this joint."
"This is a rescue?!"
"For sure pardner! We've been planning this since those highwaymen said they was keepin' ya here."
"Stop talking and get her out of here!" Golden bellowed from further up the river. It seemed like she was now intimidating some other tugboats from intervening.
"Well, ya heard 'er." Tex said. "Les' go!"
Given had been so distracted by the appearance of so many members of her family that she hadn't even noticed Tex slipping lines through her hawseholes until they went taut and she was yanked from her moorings by Tex steaming out in pursuit of Ace's retreating form.
She just barely managed to get her anchors retracted before Tex really put some power on, and began to pull her across the lake entirely.
------------------------------------
Later...
The War Zone
Ever Given Escapes Custody
Suez Canal Authority claims no responsibility, Egyptian Navy vessel possibly damaged.
BY TYLER ROGOWAY April 17, 2021
THE WAR ZONE
📷@mahmou10_ships VIA @SUEZWATCH_EGY
SHARE
TYLER ROGOWAY View Tyler Rogoway's Articles
@Aviation_Intel
Details remain limited at this time, but there was an incident in the Great Bitter Lake. At least one Egyptian Navy vessel has been severely damaged, and MV Ever Given, who had been held in the Great Bitter Lake by the Suez Canal Authority, has now fled the Canal into the Mediterranean Sea.
Again, details are extremely limited, but based on social media reports, marine tracking data, and radio reports, at approximately 11:47 PM Egypt Standard Time (EGY) a disturbance was reported by the Egyptian Navy craft - their identity is still unconfirmed, but images posted to social media seem to indicate that the vessel is a former Soviet Osa-class missile craft. The vessel reported that "A convoy has gone mad" and he was "under attack from multiple vessels".
While a convoy had transited the canal at that time, it is unclear if they were involved in the attack, or if one occurred at all.
We've reached out to Evergreen Lines, The Suez Canal Authority, the Egyptian Navy, and the individual ships believed to be involved, including Ever Given.
We will update this piece as more information comes available.
Contact the author: [email protected]
DON'T FORGET TO SIGN UP
YOUR EMAIL ADDRESS
E-MAIL
#fic#ask response#ever given#the evergreen discord chat is going buck wild with this article#background info#sentient boats#sentient boat headcanon#sentient vehicle headcanon#having sentient boats messes with so many historical events#sentient vehicles
18 notes
·
View notes
Note
HI sorry if this ask is coming out of nowhere,, but how do you make the inkopolis news edits? With pearl and marina, and callie n marie? They're really cool, and if you're up for sharing, thatd be epic!! :o
hey! sorry, i have no idea when you sent this ask, so this is probably a really late response but here u go:
(under the readmore because it got long)
i start really basic by finding the post or quote i want to make into an edit, and decide which idols i think it fits best with! (this usually ends up being off the hook because i see/am inspired by their dialogue most)
then i'll determine which expressions of theirs "fit" the quote, or if it goes with a splatfest for even more fun. (like x or x)
(a really good resource for expressions is quote pages on the splat wiki, like this one for urchin underpass, because they have the expressions each idol makes right next to the quote. you can use this to see what different expressions they make, as well as learn where to find each one)
that's right, the worst next step is finding the actual expressions/images. this was an arduous task until i knew how to do it, and built up a gallery of usable images--don't get discouraged. if i can, i'll use screenshots from the game itself, but if it's from splatoon 1, or a specific splatfest, or i'm looking for a specific expression then the best option imo is finding a youtube video of the news segments
this can be a little tricky, since not many people open up splatoon with the goal to watch the news. i recommend looking for a letsplay of the game (like ZackScottGames or @heroroller's series) or the specific stage release or splatfest.
then i play the video at .5 or .25 speed just before the expression i want, and screenshot just before the words appear. you'll probably want a couple more of when they've settled into their poses too. also, if you can: get some shots with the text in different places!
this is helpful when i get to the next part, editing. this is where i remove the in-game text, switch out the stage image for the default news pattern (or another stage, or a splatfest), and cut together the expressions i've chosen for each idol. for editing, photoshop's probably ideal, or photopea (the free in-browser version, just be sure to save!) but i use this really shitty free phone app, Photoshop Mix! (edit: it's apparently been taken down for being too free! photoleap looks to have similar functions but i obviously can't vouch for it. sorry!) this isn't ideal, because i have to edit the images on my phone and then send them to my computer for finishing and posting
once i have the image with the correct expressions and text removed, i send it to myself, download it to my laptop, and then use the built in Paint 3D for the edited text! it allows me to use fonts i've downloaded--this Splat 1 font and this for Splat 2. (if you care about nitty gritty, i use size 12 for splat 1 and size 14 for splat 2, though ellipses look best a higher size)
then, the rest is easy! i throw in the quote dialogue, agonize over line positioning for 20 mins, and save it over to tumblr where i agonize over a caption for about 5 more minutes, and post!
That ended up much longer and in-depth than I was expecting, but I hope it was either interesting or at least easy to follow along. I know others have made incorrect quote edits in the fandom, and it would be really cool to see images and memes like the ones I make, I find them really fun!
#if you have any more questions feel free to ask!#i'll reblog this with example images cause it can be kinda hard to parse from just the descriptions#when i first started making and finding things took a really long time but now i have a whole gallery that makes things super easy#(also excuse the @ i just wanted to give proper credit)#daiz-callie
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Perfection
Pairings: Poppy x MC (Bea Hughes)
Warnings: None
Word count: 1900
Bea Hughes was not a spoiled brat like most of the young people of Belvoire and with the successful completion of her schooling she went straight into police work. Ever since she was a child, she had fought for her own, without any tariffs and faced human envy and selfishness. That's why when she got the job as an officer, she was determined to make this town perfect.
Perfection is a relative term. She knew she couldn't bring Belvoire to that state on her own, but she still hoped that her hard work would bear fruit. She was used to failure, but she did not allow herself to be broken. Just once. God, only once had she bowed to the pressure of her own demons and failed. So shamefully that nothing but a stone mask had graced her face ever since.
Unaccustomed to balls and parties, Bea was faced with a difficult choice: whether to follow society's acceptance and wear a frighteningly beautiful and sweet dress that completely did not suit her, or a simple, elegant suit whose graphite color matched her feelings. With a touch of distrust, she ran her fingers over the delicate material of the dress and held her breath in her chest. The coolness of the material irritated her fingertips, which were warm compared to the silky material, scratching her every now and then with the sewn-on sequins. This was not what she wanted. Not the sweetness and extravagance, but the passion and simplicity the suit would provide.
She had never needed society's approval so much, so with a sigh of relief she reached for the graphite material and nimbly threw it on. With a simple and careful movement, she tied the tie around her neck, which tightened like a noose against her pale rosy skin. Later today, people would hang her with words for this outfit, just as they had done in the past.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the gun holster that rested lazily on the elegant white bedside table. Taking that object in her hand, a shiver ran through her body, one that she always felt when touching the cool metal of a gun. Pure adrenaline, it was a feeling she so needed, and at the same time, didn't want to have. Tonight was all about perfection.
In front of her house stood a perfectly polished Ford Crown, its black and white hues exuding a sleek look. Tonight, however, because of the required elegance of the show, Bea brought along her beloved Ford Mustang that she inherited from her parents. It was the last thing they had left that would always have an important place in her heart and life. Slipping into the driver's seat, she let out a shaky breath. She was getting closer and closer to disaster. A sea of piranhas that were ready to tear her apart on the spot and, as usual, with stoic, even irritating, calmness, she would let them.
Keep calm. Be perfect.
Entering the monster's liege, she adjusted the tie one last time to make the noose let go, at least for a moment. She knew it was worth trying, even with poor results. Complete failure was never an option.
With uncertain and cautious steps, she glided deeper into the darkness. The smell of cigarettes and expensive alcohol irritated her nostrils and her face bent in an unnatural grimace. And although she herself sometimes did not shy away from alcohol, today it seemed extremely irritating. After all, spoiled brats are allowed everything, which disgusted Bea at the very thought.
After making her way through the dark corridor, a bright light flashed across her eyes, like passing through a magical portal, where a completely different world awaited her on the other side. The smell of alcohol intensified as the ballroom appeared to her eyes, bursting at the seams with an overwhelming amount of people. Most of them complete strangers to her, they were carelessly prancing to the beat of simple, primitive music, feeling none of the dangers of adulthood.
"Bea Hughes!" she heard a drunken yell behind her and let the air out of her lungs loudly.
Zoey Wade, her closest and pretty much the only friend she had spoken to in her school days. The complete opposite of her, a complete lack of perfection. Still, Bea felt a strong attraction to her, a need for adrenaline that her friend's behavior always satisfied. In her younger days an unknowable curiosity, today it is familiar and damned by every possible layer of society.
"Zoey Wade," she replied with an undisguised wince. This girl continued to be a harbinger of trouble. The brunette tilted her head gently to the side to carefully examine the silhouette hiding behind her friend.
A young girl with a radiant smile caught her eye. Her hair glinted like gold every now and then, shimmering in waves of colored lights. Bea thrust her hands into her pockets and shamelessly fed off the sight of this beautiful creature. Low and petite in stature, completely vulnerable and innocent.
Perfect.
"Who is this beauty you brought yourself?", she asked nonchalantly, directing her gaze back to her friend's eyes. Zoey cringed, and her eyes popped wide open. The brunette was taken aback by this reaction and shifted nervously from foot to foot.
"Are you talking about my cousin Poppy?", her friend's eyes flashed in semi-darkness as she corrected her posture after that unfavorable reaction.
Bea's lips tightened into a straight line, and soft wrinkles appeared on her face as she became lost in her thoughts. She thought back to the carefree days when she and Zoey would play in the backyard together, paying no attention to the different level of social classes they came from. It was not easy for a simple girl to play with the mayor's daughter. The black-haired girl adored Bea so much that her parents allowed them to hang out, but they made no secret of their disgust with the lower class, reminding her at every turn that she was beneath them.
Finally, one day the cup overflowed and Bea decided to take revenge for all the mental harm done to her. She took away their perfection. After that incident, she was no longer the same carefree person. She closed herself off and put on a stone mask, becoming a merciless jerk.
"If it was your cousin, I would remember. Believe me", she shrugged her shoulders. Her hungry gaze, once again, returned to the blonde, who was dancing with some boy just as she once had, free of her demons. Her movements innocent, made the blood boil in Bea's veins. She licked her parched lips with the tip of her tongue and struggled to swallow the growing lump in her throat.
"She didn't live near us. She's been in New York most of her life because her parents didn't want a simple life for her," she paused for a moment to wet her tongue in the percent golden liquid. "She's a lawyer."
"And everyone's favorite," Bea's throat went dry as she heard the angelic voice of young Sinclair gracelessly slung over her cousin's shoulder. The strong floral scent of her perfume, beat down the bitter stench of sweat and alcohol. The brunette's chest tightened, unable to rise or fall any further.
Get a grip on yourself.
„We don't know each other yet”, she flashed her an overly sweet smile. „Poppy Min Sinclair, lawyer, cousin to that dolt and future Mrs. Jackson.”
Bea lowered her gaze to the small and delicate hand with perfectly filed and painted nails that was extended toward her. She reciprocated the grip and when her thumb wrapped around the top of the blonde's hand, she froze. Her gaze traveled from her tiny, long fingers to the milky white skin of her exposed arms.
Adrenaline.
She needed it.
No.
She needed her.
And she always got what she wanted.
***
After several hours of constant talking and faking any interest, Bea stopped for a short break at the snack table. The atmosphere was so artificial that, for a brief moment, she even felt like she fit into this environment. As if no one there was judging her. How naive that trajectory of thinking was.
It was time for the worst part of the show: the dancing. She preferred to dance with men, although even this was not without a few indiscreet whispers. Because how is it possible for a woman and a man to dance both in a suit. It was so imperfect. Moments passed and so did the partners. Bea felt tired of listening to the stories of everyone she danced with. The most she could think of right now was to sit in her favorite chair with a glass of scotch. That was her wish until someone tapped her gently on the shoulder.
"Hey stranger, care to dance?", the wide smile on Poppy's face softened her heart, not even allowing her to refuse. As a police officer she stuck to the rules, but for this girl she was able to break them.
She returned the smile and found them a free spot on the dance floor. She felt soft hands wrap around her neck and the girl's forehead fell against her chest. Surprised by this closeness, she uncertainly placed her hands on her slender waist, but without moving closer so that their bodies were at a relatively safe distance.
"You intrigue me", she whispered innocently, swaying lazily to the beat of the music. Bea's throat became dry and before she could get anything out, the girl continued. "You show up here in the middle, trying to sit in the dark, and you look quite unhappy", boldness in her words earned her some respect from the brunette. "You seem to be completely different from everyone else here. Why?", Poppy lifted her head and found Bea's mysteriously gleaming eyes in the semi-darkness.
If the blonde had only known why Bea didn't belong here, she would have fled in terror like everyone else. Poppy was a lawyer, a fiancée, her life must have been so perfect she surely never experienced a blemish on her porcelain skin. Skin whose emanating warmth she could feel with every scrap of her taut body.
"So it seems", she replied indifferently, shoving all incorrect thoughts to the back of her mind. "Is it appropriate for you, the lawyer and future Mrs. Jackson, to maintain such closeness with a stranger?", she changed the subject turning the attention away from herself
She watched carefully as the girl's face changed expression, and only for a moment did she feel the need to close the distance and seal her lips in a kiss.
"I...", Poppy was about to say something, but she stopped at the beginning of her sentence. Any trace of a smile disappeared from her face. "I have to go now.", she said mysteriously, sounding like a completely different person, which drew interest from the brunette. She stood on her toes and innocently brushed her lips against the other girl's cheek, stopping near her ear. "Come tomorrow with my cousin to the wedding dress salon for my fitting. The more the better."
Bea nodded, watching the blonde's silhouette disappear among the rest of the dancing partygoers. Automatically her hand went to the place where Poppy's mouth had been and she sighed heavily.
This couldn't end well.
#going on a semi-hiatus so here is#old fic I found#idk#poppy min sinclair#poppy x mc#queen b#choices#playchoices#choices fic
34 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
ahgelgorbeniaskneyledi
Mustafa Y.
zeibei
art blog
lafrexniere
Lafrexniere
anniekot
☀︎︎
soccerplayersunderwear
Hot Soccer Players in Underwear