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sylverstorms · 3 years

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Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch. 8

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

It has come to a point where you can’t even pretend to yourself that you don’t care for her.

All the time you spend with Cassandra every evening has made certain feelings impossible to deny, though you are too scared to name them all.

You don’t name the smile you can’t contain when she excitedly pulls you to the armory to show you her collection of blades –and explains, in a very animated fashion, about the optimal use for each one. You don’t want to know what the stutter in your heartbeat means, every time she genuinely laughs, pale neck thrown back, nose slightly scrunched and all.

And it’s not just Cassandra you grow a tad closer to.

Bela comes to you whenever the two of them have argued and goes ‘Tell my sister’ this or that. Daniela is apparently not allowed within a twenty meter radius of you, but she approaches to poke and prod at you whenever she wants to annoy Cassandra. She never manages to do either, because the middle sister always swoops in, fuming, dragging her away by the hood of her robes like a kitten.

Lady Dimitrescu is the only one as distant as the day you first saw her –and it’s probably for the better. You don’t see her much, anyway, not with how Cassandra takes you to empty castle wings to have you all to herself.

Tonight is different.

After dinner, Bela leaves with her mother and you go to help the other maids present clean the table. But your lover steps in the way and grabs your elbow, instead, hurriedly pulling you along.

“Do not tell me you’re seriously thinking to make me wait longer.” she says.

Of course, you promised to watch a movie you found on your phone with her and she’s been buzzing with impatience since.

That is, until a certain redhead blocks your way.

“Daniela, move.” Cassandra huffs.

“What are you doing? Take me with you.” the younger sister replies, brimming with childlike curiosity.

“No. Go bother Bela.” A shooing motion is made.

“Bela’s no fun. I wanna come with you and Alexia.” she drops your name so casually it’s startling.

“Wait give me a moment to think about it –moment over. No.” Cassandra states, fast.

But Daniela shoots forward and grabs your arm like a koala. Your eyes go wide at the same time as Cassandra’s, for different reasons.

The brunette immediately grips her sister’s robes, none-too-gently. “Don’t touch her, she’s mine!”

“If you don’t take me along I’m telling mother where you found that music player and phone!” Daniela answers, her hold enough to cut off your blood flow.

You send Cassandra a pleading look before they break your arms with how they’re tugging at you.

“On one condition.” the elder sister holds a finger up to her sibling’s face. “You sit next to me and you don’t move around.”

“…she’s warm, though.” Daniela says, all but pouting. “Mother says sharing is caring~”

“Find your own human.” Cassandra growls out as the three of you make your way to the main hall and the couch adjacent to the fireplace there.

“You and Bela have gotten the prettier ones!”

“You snooze, you lose.”

Cassandra quite literally pins you to the arm of the couch with her body, to keep Daniela as far away from you as possible. Even as the movie starts, you can feel her sulking by your neck for not being able to touch you the way she wants.

You are not as focused on the movie as you are cute way she plays with your hand throughout its duration.

It’s getting harder and harder to remind yourself of what they are.

Especially when, ten minutes after the credits have rolled, Daniela is still crying over the death of the protagonist. Even Bela comes to the hall and asks Cassandra what she did to her.

By the time she’s done dealing with her sisters, your lover comes to you sporting a headache.

“We’re leaving this wing right now.” Cassandra says and that is about all the warning you get.

The next second you feel a rush of air and your stomach leaping to where your heart is supposed to be; Your eyes only make out a blur and an augur of black flies.

When she comes to a halt you crash into Cassandra’s side with a gasp. Your arm aches from the pull. The world spins for ten solid seconds.

She laughs by your ear. Low and satisfied as it is at your disorientation –it reminds you of drinking wine by a fire in the heart of winter— you can’t help but bask in the timbre of her voice so close.

“Ugh, why is it so cold in here?” she complains in that same quiet tone you love.

It is very cold compared to the more lived in parts of the castle, but your body is warm enough from your sustained proximity and the rush of adrenaline she always causes in you.

“Oh, well, I can bear it for a little while if it means we won’t be interrupted.” Cassandra trails off and lifts your chin with a chilled finger.

Your lips meet and slide together in a practiced tango. Her manicured nails run over your throat and shoulders, making you shiver for reasons that have nothing to do with the temperature.

Both of you are starting to get really into it when Cassandra walks you back into the nearest wall. It happens to be a window, covered by a flimsy curtain. You have half a mind to realize it’s probably been forgotten slightly ajar, judging from the frost that graces your shoulder, but you have more important matters to focus on, like the brush of her tongue over your bottom lip.

Until Cassandra braces her bare hand over the unseen opening, to box you in like she usually does.

And-

She shrieks.

She jerks away so powerfully her back crash-lands into the painting on the far wall, knocking it down with its frame broken. You’re left there still and mute, watching in frozen horror as her face distorts into pure, raw anguish.

“Shut it!” Cassandra screams at you. “Shut it now, now!”

Your nerves suddenly kick into overdrive and you pull the window closed like your life depends on it.

What just… happened...?

In slow, cautious steps, you approach her. She’s clutching her hand like a wounded animal, baring its teeth to hide its vulnerability. It is the first time you see her like this. Void of control, bent over in hurt. Gasping.

Something in your chest breaks.

You look at her hand, to find her pale skin nearly crystallized, grey and breaking apart —like cheap china, like weak porcelain— into flies that drop to the floor, faintly twitching.

You thought… you thought they could just control the insects. That dissipating into swarms was just a trick allowed by their mutation. But now you realize, the flies are her body.

All this time trapped under the looming terror of the daughters… and escape was as easy as opening a window on them.

“Cassandra…?” you ask in a wavering voice when the initial burst of rage leaves her form.

She looks up at you, torn, when you hear the heavy sound of heels rapidly approaching.

“Cassandra?!” a different voice calls, this time, deep and authoritative. When Lady Dimitrescu rounds the corner in her immense height, your instincts scream to run.

But one look at Cassandra makes you stay.

Alcina halts for a moment to take in the scene. Then her lips curl downwards and bladed claws extend from her gloves, easily half your body in length.

Oh my… God…

“What did you do to my daughter?!” she demands and advances on you, but Cassandra gets in front of you before she can truly threaten your life.

“I brought her here, mother. It’s my fault.” she hurries to explain.

Alcina stares at you like she wants to crush you underfoot… but then softens, somewhat, at the look her daughter is giving her.

“Come with me. Now.” She says in a stern motherly tone that leaves no room for objections.

You clutch Cassandra’s uninjured hand, silently asking if she’ll be alright. She turns, looks at you for a moment, then nudges your head with hers.

“...I’ll see you later, Alexia.”

But, as it turns out... “later” is subjective.

In Alcina’s Private Chambers…

It is not often that Cassandra is reprimanded by herself.

She has never before been the only one at fault. She’s used to having her sisters beside her while Alcina scolds the three of them… except this time they’re outside the closed door and she is there to face their mother’s ire alone.

She can’t stay still under that yellowish-grey, narrowed gaze. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her robes’ sleeve to keep occupied, while Alcina takes that deep, calming breath she knows heralds no good things. Ever.

“Cassandra. Do you understand the severity of the situation?”

“Yes, mother.” She keeps her gaze downcast.

“Even if the maid didn’t harm you on purpose, she now knows your weakness. Yours and your sisters’. You were careless to allow this.” Cassandra feels anxiety rise up from the pit of her stomach and threaten to swallow her whole at that tone.

“I know, mother. Forgive me.” she replies quietly.

She wants to say that Alexia won’t use this knowledge against any of them, but she cannot bring herself to lie to Alcina. Because the truth is, Cassandra doesn’t know for a fact that she will not.

Why was that window open? Why?!

“You didn’t let me fix your mistake. I assume that means you will do it yourself?” her mother asks and Cassandra’s gaze snaps up.

What…?

At first, the temptation to chain Alexia up and watch as her blood drained from her lithe body had been sweet and strong. But now, at the thought of killing her –losing her— in whichever way, Cassandra is sick to her stomach. It is strange, because she feels like she is hyperventilating when she isn’t breathing at all and the world has tilted and—

Please don’t.

“Since when did you ever hesitate to kill, Cassandra?”

“…If.. that is what you ask of me…” she replies but she doesn’t sound like herself at all, not even to her own ears.

“How can I ask that of you and break your heart?” Alcina throws her arms up in exasperation. “I should have stopped this months ago but I thought it a fleeting fancy. I never imagined you would end up so attached.”

“I’m- I’m not-” she tries to protest, but her mother is having none of it.

“You’re not? You’re with her every day and she barely sports scratches anymore. Your eyes follow her everywhere when she’s in the same room. You instinctively lean closer whenever she comes over to refill your wine. Do you think I do not notice?” Of course. Of course she noticed.

Cassandra swallows, silent.

The memory of laying, too weak to move a single finger, on her deathbed along with Bela and Daniela pierces through Cassandra’s brain like a bullet. Her hand gives a violent spasm and flies break off to buzz frantically around her as she drops her forehead into her palm.

She’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown and it’s just so difficult without her sisters there. They’ve always been together, since the very beginning.

They were born together, learned to control their powers together, they died together-

Alcina is on one knee in front of her the next millisecond, stroking her hair and gathering her into her arms.

“Shh, calm down, my love.” she coos. “I’m sorry to be so harsh on you. I only want the best for you three.”

Cassandra doesn’t talk because she can’t, because she cannot wrap her head around what that flash inside her brain was.

“Oh, my Cassandra. I will not harm the maid if it will harm you, too.”

She waits for the eventual ‘but’.

“But I cannot let this dalliance continue any longer.”

It’s probably for the best. Her mother knows best. It is true, after all, that she has not been acting like herself, lately. So, yes, this decision is for her own good.

But.

Cassandra’s heart has the same reaction upon hearing it as being exposed to sub-zero winter air.

#Cassandra Dimitrescu #Cassandra Dimitrescu x oc #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #where the baby of the family is baby #and Alcina is a mother hen to her three chicks #and she KNOWS #mothers know everything #fanfiction

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blu-joons · 3 years

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Yuta’s Salon ~ Yuta Nakamoto

Yuta’s expression softened as soon as he walked into the bedroom and saw you fast asleep tucked underneath the duvet. Tissues surrounded you, with a half-drunk mug of tea placed on your bedside table that you’d tried to enjoy. The air was warm, leaving beads of sweat dripping down your face, unknowing to you.

“Y/N,” Yuta whispered softly, shaking your arm gently to try and wake you up. He placed the box he held in his hands down to the floor, just as your eyes opened. “It’s alright,” he whispered, racing across to the bathroom to find a towel.

A loud groan came from you as he did so as you tried to adjust to the light, flailing your legs around to try and get the duvet off of your body. “It hurts,” you whispered as Yuta reappeared, placing the towel to your forehead.

“Don’t worry, I think I might have a way of cheering you up.”

Whilst you tried to cool your body down, Yuta lifted the box up so that it sat on the bed beside you, unfastening it to reveal your nail varnishes. The corners of your mouth slightly turned up as he looked to you, keen to see your reaction.

“I thought seeing as we had to cancel the appointment at the salon, I’d just bring the salon to you instead,” he suggested, “what do you think?”

“I think this is adorable,” you spoke, cringing at the huskiness in your voice. “But won’t you get sick if you paint my nails? You’ve got work Yuta; you can’t be risking anything right now.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” he assured you, watching on as you began to browse through the colours that you owned. “Now, I’m not promising I can do a job as good as the professionals, but I can still give you a bit of colour.”

You nodded back at him, picking out your favourite orange colour and passing it across to him. “Just because I’m ill doesn’t mean I’ll let you get away with doing a rubbish job either. You’ve got to do it properly for me.”

“Trust me, I’ve painted my own nails enough time, doing someone else’s will be no problem at all,” Yuta assured you once again, offering you a soft smile. “You just wait and see, once I’m done, you’ll never want to go to the salon again.”

Your eyes widened at his bold claim as he shook the bottle. “If you’re better than the salon, it’ll at least help my bank account out, not having to pay for my nails anymore.”

Yuta sniggered back at you, taking your hand as you sat yourself up, holding it in position. Your eyes watched over every little thing that he did as he ran the brush along the bed of your nails, making sure to cover every inch of your nail that the eye could see.

“I love painting your nails, you always take such good care of them, they’re so long.”

“I’ve got to keep them looking good for you.”

Yuta’s eyes looked to you as he swapped your hands over having finished the first coat on your first hand. “I love just about anything that you do with your nails, it’s always a nice surprise when you come home from the salon, even if you do go without me.”

Your expression relaxed as Yuta began to paint over your other hand. “We could have been at the salon together today, if I didn’t catch this stupid cold when we went to the beach the other day, all because of a stupid coat.”

“I did warn you,” he smugly responded, “but even if we can’t go to the actual salon together, Yuta’s salon is a pretty good second best I’d say.”

Your head nodded in agreement as Yuta finished off your other hand in silence, concentrating hard. You watched his every movement, admiring the care that Yuta put into making sure that every nail looked as perfect as possible.

Once he was satisfied that the first coat had dried, he moved onto the second, grabbing a hold of your hand again to pick things back up.

As ever, each stroke was careful and attentive, determined to do the best possible job for you. “I could get used to this,” he whispered underneath his breath, “it’s surprisingly relaxing just painting someone’s nails, I can see why the people at the salon love it.”

You smiled back at him, although his eyes didn’t look away from your nails once. “Maybe I’ll have to hire you as my personal nail artist after all.”

“No way, I could never do the fancy things that they all do,” Yuta argued.

Whilst he was happy trusting himself to paint over your nails with a base colour, Yuta didn’t trust himself at all to add any fancy details just yet. He loved admiring the talent of the artists at the salon whenever they worked on your nails, wishing that one day he’d be able to do the things that they do too.

After your first hand was finished, Yuta once again swapped, making sure that the varnish had dried from the first coat first. “A nice orange should cheer you up whilst you’ll ill at least,” he suggested to you.

He was right, the colour certainly brought a smile to your face. “I’ve got to have something to look forward to whilst I’m stuck in bed I suppose.”

“Once your nails have dried, how about I join you tucked up in bed and we can watch a movie or something?” Yuta proposed, looking up to you, “if you’re feeling hungry, we can even order your favourite for dinner.”

“But what about your nails?” You asked, “you missed out on the salon too.”

Although you couldn’t help falling ill, it didn’t stop you feeling incredibly guilty for being the reason that Yuta was left with untouched nails, with the last chips of varnish on his nails.

“You don’t have to worry about painting my nails Y/N, you’re ill,” Yuta reminded you, “I’m sure my hands can hold out until a time when you’re better and we can go together.”

Your head shook back at him, “I want to paint your nails too, it’s the least I can do after you’ve spent the time doing mine. I can paint them whilst we wait for dinner to come, it won’t take that long, I’m good at painting nails.”

A soft hum came from Yuta as he tried to make up his mind. “I guess I could do with having this varnish taken off, I fancied a bit of a change in colour anyway.”

As soon as he was done with your nails, you nudged your box of polishes in his direction. “Pick out whichever one you want, and I will endeavour to do as good of a job with your nails as you’ve done with mine, they look amazing, thank you.”

“It’s got you smiling again, which is all I wanted to see you do.”

Your smile instinctively widened, “you always know how to take good care of me.”

“Of course, that’s why I tell you to wear coats in the cold.”

“Are you ever going to let that drop?” You joked.

“Not until you learn to listen to me.”

---

Masterlist

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

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Leaden Dreams

Characters: Albedo, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 1,908

Warnings: Vague depictions of sleep paralysis

Premise: In which the reader experiences sleep paralysis

Author’s Note: First time writing Kazuha! I just finished his story quest today, so I hope that I have an okay grasp on him. Still working on his talking style a bit but I adore his personality.

Also though I experience the part of sleep paralysis where you’re awake but can’t move (can’t recommend the experience) it’s usually during the day so I don’t really experience dreams. As of such if this is inaccurate in any ways I’m very sorry.

Albedo

Albedo knew about sleep paralysis on a theoretically level, knew that it was a phenomenon that caused one’s brain to awaken when the body was still fast asleep. He’d never given the concept much thought, not any more than he might any other bit of science that remained shelved in his mind.

Now that was certainly not the case.

Albedo knew the telltale signs, the small spasms that revealed the battle between your mind and your body. Knowing that you were fighting to move your limbs, open your eyes, relax your jaw, he would always speak first, knowing that you might not immediately respond.

“It’s alright my dear, I’m here. I know it’s frightening, but I promise you’ll be able to move soon. Just focus on one thing, alright? Maybe your eyes this time, since last time you tried moving your tongue. That’s it, just one thing first. It’s always better to start small.”

He wouldn’t move from his sleeping position until you regained control of your body, afraid that a sudden touch might cause you even more distress. Keeping himself carefully pressed into the mattress he didn’t fare lift his head, for fear his face might melt into something frightening. Since he knew he was helpless, his goal became to stop things from getting worse.

The moment you began to move however the alchemist would jump into action. Turning lights on he would pick up the glass of water from his nightstand before gathering you up into his arms, positioning himself so you could listen to his heartbeat as you drank. The first time it had happened he had left the room to get the glass to soon, and the memory of you curled up desperately into the covers still tugged at him.

Albedo would then go through what you had half-dreamed with you, thoroughly debunking all the distortions of your normal life. That shadowed human outside the window was a combination of the balcony and the half opened curtains. The voices were partially his own, partially your brain trying to process your own breathing. The figure hiding behind the door of the hallway was because of the boxed piled along the other side of the wall. The people dancing on the ceiling could be fixed with a repaint. Over and over he would remind you of the fact that you were safe, that your amygdala was simply going into overdrive. Over and over he would thoroughly debunk your nightmares until once more things settled into place, piles of clothing becoming one more fabric, dressers no longer dancing as if possessed.

He would tell you to wake him up if he began falling back to sleep, determined that he should be watching over you to make sure an episode didn’t happen as you were falling back asleep.

In reality though you didn’t mind if he drifted off a little before you. His breathing was a soothing melody, his slow, steady heartbeat a rhythm with which you could anchor yourself. He was staid and sure, and that was something you grasped onto desperately, something you would never stop appreciating.

Soon enough his reasons would soothe your mind, and you’d fall once more asleep.

Kazuha

The first thing Kazuha always did was pull the blankets over you. If the outside world was threatening you, then he’d simply block it out.

Making a cocoon around the two of you he would begin to tell stories. Fairy tales, things that had happened to him during his travels, anything that you brain might latch onto. The stories were always very short and self-contained, easy to understand, and through your panic addled brain you always seemed to find them.

Sometimes when things were particularly bad he’d softly cradled your hands, careful not to move to quickly or too suddenly in case the sensation caused you to panic even more.

“Our hands fit together so well, don’t you think? I could write a poem about them, or maybe about yours. Maybe you’ll help me with it after this is over? It will be soon dearest, I know it will.”

Sometimes he would sing little songs that he’d picked up. Usually sea shanties, their rhythm helped you, less complex than poetry, more lyrical than the jagged fear that screamed at you.

Kazuha wouldn’t ask you to share immediately. When you finally moved he would first squeeze your hands gently, kissing them before your forehead, asking if it was too hot beneath the blankets, then making sure a light was on if you needed a little fresh air.

He never acknowledged what had happened before you did, but he wouldn’t pretend like it didn’t happen either. Instead he would ask if you wanted to listen to a story or tell one. Whichever you chose he would keep holding your hands, making sure that even when he gave you space there was still something that grounded you.

Sometimes when you cried he would tell a very specific story.

“There once was a warrior, brave of heart. So brave were they that shadows tried to chase them. Someone this noble cannot exist! They cried out. The warrior must be false. We will find their weakness. However no matter how hard they tried this weakness was never found. For the warrior was truly brave in heart and soul.”

Normally you might consider such a story overdone, but in those liminal moments between fear and sleep the story format helped. This was simply a harrowing part of a story, but there would surely be a better end.

Scaramouche

Scaramouche never thought that he’d ever sleep next to you.

Humans were loud and irritating, and that only became more true when the Harbinger was trying to get a few precious hours of sleep.

However after a particularly bad week he decided that the only solution to your terrible lack of attention was to deal with the matter himself.

He wasn’t necessarily nice about it, grumbling about your poor sleeping habits, saying that this was an awful waste of time. However the moment that panic consumed you, the moment that things started to twist around you, you felt a sudden hand on your arm.

“These idiotic phantoms are nothing. Come on, I know you’re strong enough. How could you ever let something so puny win against you.”

Though you certainly didn’t agree with him about that you had to admit it helped somewhat. Though your initial panic never disappeared, it became easier to climb out of your dreams, to see a light at the end of the endless tunnel of fear.

Every time you jerked once more awake Scaramouche let himself admit some sort of relieved satisfaction.

“You’ve done it again. As you always have. I don’t know why I bother sleeping here when you’re competent enough on your own.”

Nevertheless Scaramouche would always let you embrace him, not commenting on the tears that often accompanied you. Loosely resting his arms on your back he let out exaggerated breaths.

“Will you sleep now?”

It didn’t matter if you said no. Scaramouche would simply mutter something about bad sleep habits, but he would nevertheless stay awake.

He would always fall asleep last, even when his eyes burned slightly and his body called out for rest.

If he was going through all this trouble after all, he might as well see it through to the end.

Xiao

Xiao saw dreams as extensions of human karma, of human wants and needs and wishes.

If a human dreamt a good wish, it was a revelation of their hearts desire. If they tossed and turned with nightmares it was their fears and shames manifesting. A dream was never just a dream, a shuffle of random events and names and faces. Dreams were alive; dreams had their own wills, all connected to the will of the human they were attached too.

Xiao loathed to see you haunted by your dreams. How could someone so wonderful as your be chased by something so awful? The little that you told your partner caused a distant sort of dread. He could never understand your fear of falling asleep, but he surely felt the dread of whether or not you might be allowed peace.

The threads that surrounded you, that surrounded all humans, always tensed when you were entering an episode. Careful not to leave your side too much Xiao would light a few candles, not too much to be jarring to your eyes, not too little to add to your nightmares. If you could only open your eyes then Xiao would pay even more attention, making sure that the dim lighting didn’t add to your distress, shifting the candles or blowing them out if need be.

Xiao didn’t talk much normally, but he would keep up a steady stream of questions in these moments, even if you couldn’t answer them. Whether you were aware of his presence, whether the window being open was a problem or not, whether you needed more light or less. He would keep these questions in the back of his mind for you to answer once you could again, not only so he could do better next time, but in case the nightmares we too close to be spoken about.

Usually Xiao would ask about them again in the morning, and sometimes you would discuss it then. Though the yaksha knew that nightmares were often the fears that humans accumulated, the curses that attached themselves to unsuspecting victims, he never talked about that aspect with you, indeed when he talked about it at all. Most of the time he would just listen, tracing soft circles along your back and down your arms.

Right after an episode Xiao would make his way over to you. Most of the time he would stay in one place while the episode was happening, near the candles or by the window, making sure he didn’t startle you anymore. Now though he might move every once in a while, or turn your head softly towards him if your eyes became fixated on one spot in the room. Always he’d go to open the window, and the familiarity of the routine became something that lulled you back into a sense of piece.

Not sleeping himself Xiao never told you that you need more rest, that you should go back to sleep. If you needed to stay up the rest of the night so be it, he would be there with you. If you were too tired and found yourself drifting off to sleep he would promise to protect you, to fight off any demons that might be lurking.

Sometimes Xiao feared that his burden of curses exacerbated your sleep paralysis. Those evenings he would wait for you to sleep before slipping away. Always he would leave his sleeve and his mask, making sure that if you woke up you would still have something of his presence to comfort or protect yourself with. Those nights he would stare out into Liyue and think about all the things that he carried with him, all the things that you did too.

Regardless of those nights he would be there in the morning.

“Did you sleep well afterwards?” He would always ask. Regardless of your answer, which he would surely pay attention to after his second question, he would stare into your eyes.

“Do you think things would be easier without my presence?”

Always you said no.

#idk why but I enjoyed writing xiao especially for this #not that I did love all of these this is such a good prompt #genshin impact fanfiction #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin albedo #kaedahara kazuha #genshin scaramouche #genshin xiao #genshin impact #scenarios #headcanons #very short scenarios lol #requested #my writing

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andypantsx3 · 3 years

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subtle | 2 | Shouto Todoroki/Reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 2,265 words

summary: Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You’re determined to track down the sender, certain it’s a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, valentine’s day

warnings: aged up characters (no smut though!!)

notes: Hi all! Happy Valentine's Day! I'm posting a follow up chapter because so many people asked for it in my inbox. It's completely unedited because I just decided to write it today, and I wanted to get it up before the holiday was over! I promise I will come back and edit at some point in the next few weeks.

No one had come for the box.

You’d made a point to be out of your office as much as possible throughout the day, leaving plenty of opportunity for whoever the sender was to sneak back in and correct their mistake. But every time you reentered the room, there the box was, crowning a pile of your paperwork like a coronet of ineptitude.

You’d checked in with Shouto several times as well, anxious to learn whether or not he’d overheard anything as he changed out of his uniform from patrol, but he proved just as unhelpful as he’d been earlier this morning. He simply leaned towards you, looking almost conspiratorial--spiking both your heart rate and your hopes--only for him to murmur in his low voice, “No one is coming for it.”

Which was so fucking unhelpful.

So you’d set about the office yourself, lingering hopefully on the fringes of people’s conversations, peering about for clues on the agency staffer’s desks, but there was nothing to give the sender away, no whispered snippet of conversation or receipt laying amongst some expense sheets. You might have resorted to sifting through people’s garbage cans, if only Shouto hadn’t taken to suddenly appearing wherever you were investigating, watching you with a wry little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

You knew he hadn’t the slightest modicum of romantic interest in you, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to witness you digging through people’s garbage either. That would have to wait until you could get him out of the building.

Which was also proving to be an impossible endeavor. He usually had a habit of lingering after his shift, coming into your office to make queries about one thing or another that almost always devolved into conversations deeply unrelated to work. But today he was especially resistant to leaving, seeming content to lounge around in the chairs you’d set out for clients, draping one distractingly muscled arm across the backs and watching you intently with those heterochromatic eyes.

“Shouto, get out of my office,” you hissed, coming back in at the end of the day to find him still in one of the chairs, his phone clutched in those long fingers.

He glanced up at you, eyes fastening to your features in that attentive way he had. “I work here.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” you asked, trying to suppress a small spike of irritation with him. “Because it looks like you’re scaring off the box sender to me. How are they supposed to sneak in here and take it back if their boss is looming in here like their worst nightmare?”

Shouto looked unconcerned. “I’m not.”

“Not what?” you asked. Maybe he wasn’t their worst nightmare, but being caught by your boss in the middle of correcting a romantic mishap was probably at least a nightmare.

“Not scaring anyone off,” he said, putting his phone away into his pocket. “I know who the box belongs to.”

You stopped short, your attention snapping fully towards him. A thrill of excitement went down your spine, even as regret poured through you. A little part of you had maybe hoped you would end up getting to eat the chocolates, even if they weren’t yours. But this was good news.

“You do? Why didn’t you tell me?” you demanded.

Yor feet guided you to the chair where he sat, and you stood, looking down at him expectantly. He watched you through his long lashes, eyes glinting strangely.

“It’s mine,” he said finally, after a moment that stretched long and slow, like warm taffy.

Your breath caught in your chest, a swell of confusion rising within you. The box was his?

Was he being truthful or was this another attempt to make you take it? Why would he have tried to make you think it was from a secret admirer, then? Why have let you run around all day, attempting to find the sender, if the chocolates had been his all along? Unless...

Unless he was embarrassed. You didn’t know why he might have left them in your office, but you suspected maybe force of habit had drawn him here. Maybe he was operating on autopilot after his distracting shift this morning, since he usually spent so much time in your office, and then you’d come in to find them before he’d had a chance to realize it. And the rest had been history.

But then that begged the question of who he’d really meant them for--your heart sank as the thought occurred to you.

Obviously, you had known since you’d first met him that he wasn’t interested in you. You’d spent years with your thoughts all muddled around him, quelling every blush, never straying into his personal space or staring at him longer than was appropriate. You’d been so, so careful around him, but you’d never had any indication that Shouto was as careful around you. On the contrary, he was always calm and intent--he never looked away from you in a fit of bashfulness the way you had him, and he seemed to have no qualms about getting into your personal space, leaning over you as you looked through reports together, putting a hand on your back to guide you through publicity events.

So yeah, you had known he was basically immune to you. You had known it for a long time. But it still smarted to think of him giving that box to someone else.

God, how embarrassing for you. How mortifying, really, that Shouto had been thinking of someone else all those days that you had been nursing your crush on him.

But you were a professional, you could deal with this.

All you had to do was play it cool, give him back the box and laugh it off like it hardly affected you. And then you could head back to your apartment and binge ice cream and be all wistful and embarrassing for one evening. You could allow yourself that before you had to come back and be doubly professional, smile and congratulate whichever analyst or support staffer or fellow hero had caught his interest.

You could be happy for him. You’d miss the chocolates though.

Drawing yourself together, you looked down at him, pulling out a small but genuine smile. Shouto was your friend, and he was going to nail it with whoever the box was meant for--you could give him your support. But then Shouto was unfolding himself out of the chair, standing up so he could look down into your face, taking a step closer to you.

You tried to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his sudden proximity, the hint of his clean cologne and the lick of warmth coming off of his left side.

“They’re, uh, they’re yours?” you managed, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “You are in such big trouble for coming in here and peddling conspiracy theories instead of owning up to it. You at least owe me a coffee for being such a brat.”

Shouto watched you quietly, saying nothing.

“But we can hash that out later,” you said, waving what you hoped was a casual hand at him. “You need to move quickly. You should try to catch whoever you meant these for before they leave--daytime shift is over in a couple minutes.”

Shouto’s brows knitted, a small frown pulling at his mouth. “You still think they’re not for you,” he said.

It took a minute for you to register the words he’d spoken. The comment struck you dumb when you did, a thrill of disbelief going through you. Was he trying to be tactful now? Now, of all times?

“Shouto, seriously, you can make it up to me later. This is not the time to fuck around, the day’s almost over,” you said.

His eyes narrowed and he stepped closer to you, close enough that you could feel him exhale. You took a step back in surprise, your hip bumping your desk.

“You promised me,” he said in his deep voice, “that if no one came looking for them by the end of the day, you would take them.”

You stared up at him, your mind churning wildly with all kinds of insane thoughts, wild insinuations that brought heat to your face. He absolutely could not mean what you thought he meant.

There was literally no way.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” you admitted. “But if you’re telling me I can take them just because you promised them, I don’t want them. I think you should give them to who you meant them for.”

That wry little smile played about his mouth again, and Shouto took another step closer. The back of your thighs dug into your desk and you wobbled, putting a hand down to keep your balance.

“To think I trust you with my career,” Shouto intoned, ducking his head to look into your face. You felt the heat of his left arm at your side as he placed it gently on your desk, caging you in. “Let me be plain, then. I did give them to who they were meant for.”

Your cheeks went hot, both with his proximity and the implied insult. But the rejoinder died on your tongue as the implication of his last few words sank in.

He had meant them for you? Shouto Todoroki, number four hero, your coworker of several years and your most patient, attentive, and mind-numbingly handsome friend, had gone to Grégoire Chardin, for Valentine’s Day chocolate, thinking--of all people--of you?

For a moment, it felt like the earth was sliding out from under your feet, but then you realized it was just you, tipping backwards on your desk. Your elbow banged into the side of the chocolate box, and you accidentally sent a small pile of papers fluttering over the side of your desk. You cringed, embarrassed, but then Shouto was over you, both arms braced on either side of your head.

“You don’t need to accept them if you don’t want,” he said quietly, watching your face. The intensity of his focus made your head swim, and you tried to focus on what he was saying, rather than the shape of his mouth as he spoke, the heat from his skin. “But I wanted you to know. I like you.”

You gaped at him, the words feeling like they were embedding themselves in your brain.

“You...like me?” you echoed in disbelief.

Shouto grinned, the expression so disarmingly charming that even your nose went hot. “Yes. Very much.”

A swell of emotions welled up inside you, like the unstoppable tide of a coastal flood, and you were gripped with the sudden desire to lean up and kiss him, to press your mouth to his and see if he meant it, if any of what he’d just said to you could possibly be real. Suddenly, that was the only thought in your entire brain.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” you heard yourself utter stupidly.

You hesitated for just a second, realizing that maybe you should pinch yourself first to see if this was actually happening, but then Shouto was already there, covering your mouth with his.

His kiss was hot and soft and utterly perfect, and very quickly there were no thoughts in your brain at all, nothing but the feel of him over you, one muscled thigh pressing insistently between yours, his long fingers tangling gently in the hair behind your ear. You clutched him to you tightly, an embarrassing little sound escaping you, and Shouto groaned, pressing more of his weight down on you, licking firmly into your mouth.

You were half-delirious with the feeling of him by the time he let you up for air, and you could feel yourself grinning like an absolute fool.

“I had a secret admirer,” you said. “You were being serious.”

Shouto smirked, leaning in to press a hot kiss to your throat. Your thighs clenched involuntarily. “Yes, I had been secretly admiring you for a while.”

For some reason, the words embarrassed you, and you tucked your face into his broad shoulder. “I...this is so embarrassing. I’ve been...admiring you, too.”

You heard Shouto huff a soft laugh, and then his calloused fingers were gripping your chin, angling your face back towards him so he could seize your mouth again. You went slack and pliant underneath him, enjoying the press of his mouth on yours, your toes curling when he did something particularly talented with his tongue.

“I did tell you,” Shouto said after a while, pulling back, one of his hands gripping your thigh.

“Tell me what?” you asked absently, wondering how you could get his mouth on yours again.

His eyes caught yours, the blue of his left glittering at you conspiratorially. “That I could be subtle.”

You laughed, feeling stupid--but more than that, flushed and completely pleased. You didn’t know if subtle was exactly the right word, but you weren’t going to argue specifics at the moment. “I guess you can be. Though you might have been a little bit more overt before now.”

“Then if you don’t mind,” Shouto said after a while, something like amusement in his voice, “I’d like to take you home and admire you quite overtly now.”

You were answering before he could even finish. “Yes, oh my god, yes.”

Shouto laughed again, smoothing a large palm down your side.

And then he did. And not even chocolates from Grégoire Chardin could compare.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha #bnha fanfic #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #shouto todoroki x reader

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sachirou-senpai · 4 years

Text

Kageyama, Yaku, Kenma and Hinata as sugar daddies.

request: ELLIE YOU CAN'T GET AWAY WITH PUTTING THIS IN MY HEAD AND LEAVING ME LIKE THIS AHSHSUSVSHS,,,, can I request some headcannons for Kageyama, Yaku and Kenma as sugar daddies? Or Hinata!!! Even though he's a sugar baby already shsghsbas ;;; Or you can choose whichever you like best between them??? I will be happy with every crumb I can get 🙏

warnings: mentions of s*x and sugar daddy/sugar baby relationships, hoshuimi is a nosy bitch, yaku has the confidence of a god (must be a leo thing) kenma is so cute ahhh, Hinata just wants someone to love and call mommy, i really love this. implied fem!reader for hinata, although i guess you could call a gn person or a male reader mommy. whatever floats your boat.

a/n: this was very fun. ;)

Kageyama:

what the fuck

how did he even get a sugar baby?

great question

it happened because he had a fuckton of money and had no idea what to do with it

and hoshuimi, of course

cause hoshiumi's a nosy lil bitch

saw kageyama checking his bank account app on his phone and was like

WHAT THE FUCK WHY DO YOU HAVE SO MUCH MONEY

it's cause he never spends it

hoshuimi offhandedly tells him he should get a sugar baby

later that night kageyama googles what a sugar baby is

he's shook

doesn't think about it for months

until he gets this ad for a "meet sugar babies" website on a volleyball video he was watching

he thinks oh hell, why not

so he signs up, and meets you

he's so awkward oh my god

but you think it's adorable, and you're glad he's not some old dude

he doesn't know what to do so he asks you a lot of questions about what you like and stuff

the first thing he sends you, i kid you not, was a fucking volleyball

you call and ask him about it and he's like:

"it's the best quality"

you keep it.

eventually he starts sending you stuff you ask for, which works out better for both of you

you help him with the concept of a 'luxury life'

eventually gets a black card and literally just says:

"please use it for me, i don't know how"

and you're like damn okay

the first time you attempt to do something sexual he literally short circuits

you have to explain to him that a sugar baby usually repays their sugar daddy/mommy with sexual favors

he makes the 😮 face

he didn't even think you were sexually interested in him?

he'd be lying if he didn't think you were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen

and he's definitely had some um, not so pure dreams about you

and definitely jacked off to the pictures you've sent him

which he just thought was to show him what you liked

so god if he didn't fucking jump your bones right then and there

it was uh, intense, to say the least

best sex of your life

and the cuddles afterwards? on point.

you two get very attached

he really really likes you

introduces you to the team

which was embarrassing

eventually, you decide you want to become financially independent, and so you tell him you want to cancel the agreement

he fucking cries

he so desperately doesn't want to lose you

cause he's fallen in love with you

he tells you about all of the feelings and how you make him want to do anything for you and he's sobbing while telling you

you're shook, because you've kinda been developing feelings too

so you're like, okay, no sugar daddy stuff, be my boyfriend instead

total 180°

tackles you and holds you, on the floor, for like 3 hours

he still spoils you, it's a habit of his now

but you don't really mind, because you have one hell of a man by your side

(gimmie a kageyama pls)

Yaku:

knows exactly what he's doing and knows exactly what he wants.

You.

he probably met you at some sort of event, you going because you were the personal manager for some really weird guy there

he knew he wanted you the second he saw you

and he was straight up about it too

we're talking like walking up to you and saying:

"quit your job, let me take care of you."

and you're surprised, because who just says that?

you don't even know what happened, but you said yes

quit your job that night, and left with him

yeah, you fucked on the first night but so what?

he is the best sugar daddy omg

he already knows what you like just by looking at you

(no he doesn't, he's just called Alisa so many times she swears her phone is gonna break)

he's more of a surprising you with what he's gonna buy kind of guy, but he always enjoys when you surprise him

he takes you everywhere with him

he has a game in another country? you're going. guaranteed.

he just always wants to be near you

it's clearly more than a sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship from the start

and he likes it that way

he just doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, so he doesn't say anything

you two fuck....a lot

it's clearly not because of the arrangement anymore

you're just naturally drawn to each other

it's intense

and you spend a lot of time together, not only because he literally takes you everywhere

just because you like it

there'll be periods of time where he doesn't buy you anything and you don't buy anything either, but you still stick around and you still have sex

and that's when he knows you actually have feelings for him

HE'S SO HAPPY OMG

you've been in the arrangement for several years

you're practically dating

and so one day he just asks you to marry him and you're like

fuck yes

who wouldn't want to marry yaku morisuke?

cause i sure as hell want to marry him

Kenma:

i think kenma likes to watch twitch streams in the background while he's playing his games

it's just relaxing

with a fake account, of course, he didn't need all the hype from when he joined their stream

one day, a streamer he was watching ended their steam and raided yours

he first heard your voice and was SHOOK

you had the prettiest voice he'd ever heard

so he looked at his computer screen and nearly died

how could someone have such a pretty voice and a pretty face?

wildly unfair, he thought to himself

at first it was just a low-key thing

he'd watch your streams, whenever you were streaming

it was a miracle you two never streamed at the same time

you were just his go to relaxation method

one day, he heard you mention offhandedly that you were struggling with money

and so you know what he did?

donated 10k

he was already basically in love with you, so why not help you out?

and your reaction was perfect

you started smiling so hard, and thanking him over and over

it put a smile on his face for the next week, kuroo though he was sick

and he did it again, the week after

and again

and so finally you messaged him asking why he kept sending you so much money

and he just sent you his number, with the message "call me"

you were so nervous

but you did

AND OH MY GOD IT WAS KODZUKEN?

WHAT?

you were such a big fan

and you really didn't know what to do

he was ever so kind, (lmao no) and just said:

"let me take care of you. i don't want you to ever have to stop streaming and go find a job that makes you more money."

you're so surprised you can't even speak

WHO SAYS THAT??

KENMA FUCKING KOZUME, APPARENTLY

you agree so hesitantly, and he notices

"you deserve it, please don't feel bad. i want to spend my money on you."

"o-okay"

"good."

and so that's exactly what he does, he'll just send you money every week

and little trinkets too, stuff you've mentioned in your streams or in the calls you'll have

you don't live close at all, but you wanted to meet up

he was sooooo nervous

kuroo, yet again, thought he was sick

and he probably was

but he came to you, and you just walked around a little, you showing him your favorite things about your city

he was just staring at you the whole time

he had come to stay with you for a week

and insisted that you stayed in a hotel with him, even though your house was literally right there

you slept in different beds

until one night you just got really paranoid about the horror game you played earlier

so you walked over and just got into bed with him

he was half asleep, but all he knew was the person of his dreams was laying in a bed next to him and he would hate himself in the morning if he didn't hold you close as physically possible

you woke up in each other's arms

annnnd that's when you both knew you were done for

he asked you to move in the day before he left

you said yes

(now i want a kenma too)

Hinata:

oh my god what a baby

he just wanted someone to be with, really

atsumu was the one who suggested it

after kenma stopped sponsoring Hinata, he ended up learning how to manage his money and he was really good at it??

he invested well and now had a loooot of money

he was talking about his money like a Grown Man

and atsumu was like,

"do ya spend any of it?"

"yeah, on my investments"

"no, i meant like on yourself"

"well for food and stuff"

"LIKE FOR ENJOYMENT"

"m-my gym membership?"

"oh my fucking god"

so atsumu tells him to get a sugar baby

"a baby? i don't have the time for a child!!!"

queue atsumu literally dying inside

he shows Hinata an app and is like,

"don't worry, they're all grown"

"oh"

so atsumu helps him fill out the profile for the app

atsumu uwu's inside when he sees Hinata checked the box for 'emotional fulfillment only'

cause like, what a precious baby

anyway, a couple hours later he gets a match

and he's like

"WOAH ATSUMU LOOK LOOK HOW PRETTY THEY ARE"

"damn, okay hinata, nice kill"

he's so happy to find someone to talk to besides his family and volleyball friends

you two talk

ALL

THE

TIME

and he sends you the cutest things omg

like a little plushie he saw? in the mail the next day

some MSBY merch? yeah, he's sending that too

little snacks he thinks you'd like? yep, those are going too

he sends you the stereotypical sugar baby stuff too, like pretty dresses and suits and lingerie and jewelry

he was blushing so hard when he tried to put the lingerie in the mail, atsumu had to do it for him

a couple days later, you send him a picture of you wearing it

wow

sure, he knew you were pretty, and was undeniably physically attracted to you

but he'd never felt like that

he took the LONGEST shower

he couldn't even message you till the next morning because he knew he'd have to look at the picture and god he'd never get to bed if he looked at it any more

he was surprised in the morning when he had messages from you saying sorry and that you shouldn't have sent it and that you didn't mean to make him uncomfortable

that you would understand if he wanted to call off the arrangement

he was like WHAT???? NOOOO

so he drives alll the way to where you live and pounds on your door

you're like hinata what?

"PLEASE DON'T THINK THAT I HATE YOU AND WANT TO CANCEL THE ARRANGEMENT I JUST DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO YOU LOOKED SO PRETTY AND I JUST I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT AND THEN I STARTED THINKING ABOUT BAD THINGS LIKE WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE IF YOU DID NAUGHTY THINGS TO ME AND I WANT IT I WANT IT REALLY BAD I-"

you're kissing him

wait

YOU'RE KISSING HIM???

holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit

he doesn't know what to do

he's desperately trying to process what you're doing, but with your tongue shoved down his throat that's a little hard

so you know what he does?

he fucking whines

and you're like ohhhh shittttt

yeah you fuck

and you get the nickname mommy

which you love

such a sweet relationship

yes, relationship

you got together

he's so happy

looks like he got laid all the time

(which he usually did, but that's beside the point)

he's just giddy

and it's the cutest thing

10/10 relationship, please cherish him forever

(now i want a kageyama, yaku, kenma and a hinata DAMNIT)

oh my god this was so fun and perfect

@warmbearhugs i'm so glad we talked about with this, and i'm so glad you requested it

taglist: @warmbearhugs wow, i've tagged you 3 times in this post now @beanst0ck @your-local-abyss @oof-she-needs-therapy @tendouthighs @oyasenpai @senkuwu-chan @lovetsuki @kuroos-babie @keijination

send an ask to be added to the taglist!

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shortprince-cos · 3 years

Text

Presents Or Pranks?

Summary: Janus assumes his "secret admirer" is a prankster, but a familiar face proves him wrong.

Ship: Romantic Moceit (Patton x Janus)

Warnings: Stabbing mention (doesn't actually happen i swear-), pranking mention, high school, Valentine's Day(?). Tell me if I need to add anything else!

Note: Happy Valentine's Day!!! Hope you have a good day regardless of if you have a s/o or not! Also i forgot that Valentine's day wasn't on a school day this year, so ignore that cause i didn't want to rewrite it. Pretend its an AU.

Thank you to @emy-loves-you for helping me with some plot (and basically every other fic I've written)!

~~~~~

If there was ever a time for Janus to develop anxiety, it would be now.

For weeks he had been wondering who kept putting letters - love letters - in his locker at least twice a week. The last letter had said to meet him here, under the bleachers on the football field, after school, on Valentine's Day.

There were two possible situations that this could turn into: One, this was a really elaborate prank and he was about to either get humiliated or stabbed, whichever came first, or two, someone who has a crush on him was about to meet him, and he would have to break their heart or make out with them.

At least if he gets attacked he can defend himself, and humiliate the stranger instead. If it was an admirer, then they would both be humiliated.

He hoped it was a prankster, because if the person was real, they seemed really sweet, and Janus didn't want to do that to them.

It's probably some straight girl who wants a bad boy. It wouldn't be the first time that had happened, but Janus was tired of explaining that he was gay to every girl he ever crossed paths with.

The letters and gifts had always been very stereotypical, like ones you would see in rom-coms and books. They usually consisted of chocolates, little poems, and pressed yellow flowers.

They were all really sweet gifts (especially the chocolates), but Janus still couldn't help but worry over who the 'admirer' was.

Janus anxiously checked his phone. The stranger was seven minutes late.

It was probably a prankster, and he was probably being filmed right now. Janus looked around, but all that was there was an empty football field.

Janus sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

Would a prankster even put this much effort into a joke? This was going on for weeks, and unless this person really hated Janus, he doubted it was a prank. As awful as that was.

Who would even have a crush on Janus, anyway? He wasn't exactly nice or pretty, he was mean and- well, he wasn't ugly, but he definitely wasn't charismatic.

His whole aesthetic was 'stay away from me', so he always wondered why that seemed to attract girls to him, until Remus enlightened him.

"They want a bad boy." Remus explained one day. "They think the idea of an angry guy with a soft spot only for them, is sexy."

"That's stupid." Janus had replied.

And it was stupid- is stupid. What kind of girl wants someone who's mean to them? Janus blamed the Twilight saga.

Janus checked his phone again. Eleven minutes late.

Janus cursed and decided to call it quits. He picked up his backpack and started walking towards the parking lot before he heard someone shouting something behind him.

He looked back towards the football field to see a short, blond, boy, running at him as fast as they could.

"W-Wait!" They yelled.

Janus waited for the short person to catch up, when they did, they put their hands on their knees, trying to catch their breath.

They looked kind of familiar, but everyone does when you go to the same highschool.

"Sorry- sorry!" The stranger looked up at him with blue eyes looking through round glasses. "I'm so sorry I'm late! I promise I didn't mean to be, but my teacher wanted to talk to me after class about my grades, and I tried to tell her I was late, but she wouldn't listen! And then my friends wanted advice about their gifts for their partners, and I got caught up! I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting!"

Janus knew he should probably be listening to what the shorter boy was saying, but all his mind was thinking was that he was rather adorable.

"W-What?"

Oh, did he say that out loud?

Janus smirked. "You're adorable when you're rambling."

The boy blushed quickly. "I- u-uh- thank you?"

Janus chuckled. "So, you're the one putting those gifts in my locker?"

The blue-eyed stranger shifted on his feet. "Y-Yeah, I did. I did wanna talk to you about that! Which, is the whole reason we're here- obviously- why else would we-?" He giggled nervously. "Anyway, the reason I put those there is because...uh- I kinda- maybe sorta...like you?"

"Why?" Janus immediately asked.

"I- what?"

Janus crossed his arms. "You said you liked me, and I want to know why."

"O-Oh. I didn't expect you to- uh- ask that?"

"Well, do you have a reason, or-?"

"No- yeah! Of-of course I do...you-you want to hear it?"

"No, I just asked because I was curious." Janus answered sarcastically.

"R-Right. Yeah, okay, um- well-"

Janus smirked as he saw the shorter one fumble over his words.

"Well, over winter break? You uh- you volunteer at an animal shelter in the next town over?"

Janus' eyes widened in shock. "How did you-"

"I work there too! I do every weekend when I'm at my dad's house! Uh- anyway, I saw you there over winter break, and you were just so...soft, with the animals, and it was really cute to see you playing with kittens, and you always took the older dogs on walks because they were sad they never got adopted, ooh! And then you helped me carry some boxes in that one time 'cause no one else was, and you kinda called me pretty? I guess that part isn't as important, heh- oh my gosh I'm rambling! I'm sorry!"

Janus was shocked at how specific this guy's examples were. Then he thought about the situations again.

"You had blue hair."

The bubbly boy's face lit up. "You remember me?"

"A little. You cried when puppies got adopted."

"Can you blame me?! I loved playing with them, and I just wanted to make sure they got a good home!"

Janus outright laughed - which, if you talked to Janus' friends, they would claim that Janus only laughed when a kid fell off a bike.

"S-Sorry- I-" Janus laughed a bit more. "That was the most innocent thing I've ever heard."

The blue-clad boy pouted and crossed his arms in the least intimidating way possible.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" Janus apologized while still chuckling slightly. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. A-Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that okay I'll be going now-"

"Wait." Janus said before the smaller one ran off. "What are you doing tonight?"

"O-Oh! I'm not doing anything...why?"

"The dance tonight? Would the unnamed stranger in front of me like to go?"

"Oh my gosh! I'm sorry, I totally forgot to introduce myself! My name's Patton!"

Janus smiled. "Alright then. Would you like to go to the dance with me, Patton?"

Patton immediately blushed more. "Oh gosh, you don't have to-"

Janus took Patton's hand in his own and brought it up to his lips. "Now why wouldn't I want to take my beautiful admirer to a nice dance?" He pressed a kiss to Patton's knuckles and watched as Patton's face turned even redder.

"I-I...y-yeah, I wanna go with you!" He squeaked out.

Janus dropped Patton's hand. "I'll see you tonight, then?"

"Y-Yeah, sure!"

Janus picked up his bag again as Patton started to gather his as well. "Oh, and, Patton?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope you know that I will have to repay you for those presents you gifted me."

Patton sputtered. "You don't have to! I just wanted to give you something-"

"Nope, too late, I've already decided." Janus started walking back towards the parking lot. "See you later, cutie!"

Thinking about the future dance, Janus decided that maybe an admirer was better than a prankster after all.

~~~~~

Sorry this is so short, but I thought something was better than nothing! I hope you guys enjoyed!

General Taglist: @resident-crow-goth @macademmia @theantisocialghost @foreverfangirlalways @emo--nightmaree @moxy--sanders101 @quinnthequeer @gattonero17 @trashno0dles @tranquil-space-ninja @chaotic-murder-muffin @lugooble @sander-crossing @princess-rosie @sleepyysoot @hi-its-tutty @lookingforaplacetosleep @sarcasmremovedsoul @corkeecoderyt @drarrymalecsolangelo @private-snippers @girl-who-reads @emy-loves-you @reptilian-with-scallions

Ask to be added or removed!

Reblogs are appreciated!💖

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #moceit #romantic moceit #valentines day #ts patton #ts janus #kawaiikat54 fic #patton sanders #janus sanders

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sly-merlin · 3 years

Text

okey dokey! I'm gonna be a father!

Requesting pregnant reader scenarios, wanna see more of the guys’ duality balancing domesticity and impending fatherhood, and running the world, ya know 🙏🏾😎🤔😀 Just throwing the idea out there since you said we could. Y’know things like ‘I’m trying to leave to set up a meeting but her back is sore & she wants ice cream so one of u needs to suddenly be available. now’ & other things ig. I imagined Ty Kun, John Jae or Kun in as leader & probably hc or jaemin as the wife-sitters (lol)

Since you didn’t specify the unit,I did this with the few members from hyung line. This got so long that I ran out of ideas so let me know if you want me to write for some other members. though j incorporated your ideas but i based it on the concept of them managing the treats in both hands. This is my first time doing reactions so leave some feedback if you wish! Have a nice day everybody.

(7 members) Ft. Taeil, johnny, taeyong, yuta, ten, jaehyun + kun

TAEIL

"Let me message you back!" Taeil whispered into the phone and raised his body to observe your sleeping form. Your head was securely resting on his arm and he let out a relieved sigh as it was one of the few Lucky days when you were not thrashing around in your sleep. Day after day, you were getting uncomfortable with your heavy belly and all he could ever do was keep you company in your frustrations. He couldn't risk waking you up so he tried his best to complete the task in the painful position. He fidgeted with the phone for it was impossible to handle a 6 inch of metal device with one hand. Struggling with the grip for a few more seconds, he finally managed to send johnny a message regarding the inquiry.

Ask tae He has ab eztra key 2 my ofice.

Maybe he should turn his autocorrect on for situations like this!

Thinking his work was done, he locked the phone. just when he was about to put it on the nightstand on a blind guess, it vibrated again!

John: He is out! You need to come asap.

He stopped to watch out for any movement from your side and when there was none, he shifted to his phone again.

Nt my pblm.

He couldn't understand why johnny was being so persistent when everyone was under strict orders to not call him after 10 p.m unless someone was dying!

John: Jungwoo is in trouble with police. I need his fake ID!

Taeil’s scoffed a bit too loudly causing you to stir. He paused in his actions only to continue when he noticed your even breathing. Weighing the options, he concluded that Jungwoo must have forgotten to pay for the food again or something like that otherwise if it was work related then johnny would have been screaming at his door and not through the phone.

Not his 1st time. dw too much. Jst send him some food so he wont cry like last tym.

He deserved that much punishment! With that he switched the device off and wrapped his arm around your waist, returning to the warmth he got to experience only at night times.

JOHNNY

You were on edge since the day you got yourself tested. You could blame it on the suddenly changing hormones or the never present johnny but one thing was sure that you were missing him more than ever. Johnny on the other hand, avoided going back home for the sole reason of finding himself incapable of taking care of you and his dangerous job. That’s why he had assigned hendery to be at your beck and call. He was a medic and since the other medical emergencies could be handled by xiaojun and renjun, hendery had no problem in spending some time with you. His company was full of funny stories of other members and silly jokes. Despite his endless efforts to distract you, the thought that your daughter’s father was missing the growth of his own child always remained at the back of your head. You couldn’t understand how all of a sudden his workload had increased so much that he barely had any time to even see your face let alone talk to you for a few minutes. But all your worries vanished the day he returned and sarcastically ordered hendery to show his donkey self out of his house to never come back again.

“I managed to prepone some important weapon deals”, he bowed gracefully to acknowledge his own achievements, making you chuckle at him, “and I’ve been rewarded with three months of holidays so I shall be spending these months making up for the lost time and creating new memories” he completed, kissing your forehead.

"I never said I need you 24/7. A few hours at most would do John" you said, knowing how his absence would affect the black neos.

"Yeah. But then I realised what if my baby girl mistakes hendery for her father. Can't let that happen now yeah!"

Masked under jokes, you were very well aware of the real reasons behind the toil he had subjected himself to! It was all for you and your baby girl and you knew he would do it again and again even if it meant the end of his life!

TAEYONG

From sharp cold deadly glare to the dragon tattoo that adorned his neck and arms, fellow criminals had every reason to fear this man. His name, in the underworld, screamed cursed royalty. But that was Lee taeyong, leader of black neos.

The taeyong standing right in front of you, struggling with multiple boxes of boards was anything but scary. Cladded in baby blue hoodie and black boxers, he was reading the manual, knocking down the structure again and again as he repeatedly found something missing from it.

"Leave it tae. I can complete this later on. Come and eat now." You whined and suggested while taking bites from the creamy pasta he had prepared earlier.

"what do you mean i can complete this later on. Do you find me incapable of making a crib?"

Yes you did!

But that was not the answer you could give when he was clearly trying his hardest. It was indeed baffling as to why the man who could assemble a weapon with his left hand was unable to join the pieces of a crib with both!

"No tae. You were out for three days so maybe you are just too tired to concentrate!" You explained in the politest way possible that clearly didn't reach him properly. He let out an audible gasp at what felt for him to be the accusatory tone.

"Eat your pasta and watch me complete this in half an hour! You'd regret saying that to me!"

Why was he the one with mood swings?

Just like other bubbling thoughts, you gulped down this one too and nodded enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs up as if you would never doubt his capabilities.

But you knew, he might have started the task but he was surely not going to be the one to complete it!

YUTA

“How about sakura?” hyuck suggested. Looks of disapproval were exchanged across the room and sound of mark hitting hyuck’s arm resonated in the living room.

“Cliche!” jaehyun laughed.

“Yes. We aren't naming our daughter sakura and that is final. She’s one of a kind and her name should also be!” you announced your arrival in the room and sat on the floor, making yourself comfortable between yuta’s legs. He wrapped his arms around your belly before leaning his neck to greet you with a sweet cheek kiss.

“Yes. What y/n wants, y/n gets. No sakura!” he held his one hand up in the air, forbidding any further discussion on the name.

"That's not fair!" Hyuck whined only to be dismissed by a wave from you.

"Just because it's not hyuck's choice doesn't mean that you have got right to choose by yourself. The baby is a part of this family so we get to decide what's best for her!" Ten exclaimed loudly getting everyone’s attention.

“How about ayaka?” kun suggested, entering the room with a trolley full of snacks. As the recommendations poured in, the snacks were passed to everyone. Days like these were rare and from the past two months, these rare days were spent daydreaming about the very first child in the black neos house.

“Akira? It’s quite universal you know.” mark joined in, reading the meaning of the name in different cultures and languages.

“Haru”

“No kai!”

Somewhere in the conversation, yuta’s hands had travelled from your tummy to your sides. He knew the little brushes of his fingers had started to work on you as you swatted his hand away with yours. It only encouraged him and he tickled you on your sides more and more, getting the desired reaction. Your body being more sensitive and responsive than usual, you wiggled in his arms and squealed loudly enough to get everyone’s attention. Suddenly his hands stopped as he heard a whiny shout.

“Why are you bugging her?” hyuck hollered, “can’t you sit still for once? Let her breathe for a freaking second. You wanna tickle! Tickle me. Come tickle me but Don’t bother her!”

You were aware of hyuck’s sudden outbursts of protection for you but this was truly something new! And you new tickles were not the reasoning behind his irritation. Sakura was!

“Le-let’s play a game”, kun interrupted before haechan’s frustration would land him into some trouble with the elder, “we’ll write all the suggestions into paper and whichever y/n chooses would be final. How does it sound?”

Everyone hummed along to the idea. Looking over at Hyuck, you noticed a sudden glint in his eyes that spoke trouble. He was clearly planning something evil and until it was all fun and games, you had no trouble for his intentions.

“Since when did you get a bodyguard hmm?” yuta whispered, planting another wet kiss on your right cheek.

“Yua.” you said.

“What?”

“We are naming her yua! When are you gonna tell them that i’ve already decided!” leaning backwards, you said in a hushed voice meant only for his ears.

“When they are tired enough to play any more games. Till then, let’s have fun. Look at hyuck, he’s surely gonna cheat and mark and renjun are going to strangle him.” yuta chuckled against your ear, making you laugh again. Life was good!

TEN

“Xiaojun! Xiaojun! Show yourself you good for nothing potato!” you winced at the volume of ten’s voice. Even though he was outside the room, his vocals were irritating. But you held your tongue from scolding him as he was the only one you could rely on at the moment.

“Xia-

“Did bella bite you again? why are you shouting at-” xiaojun squinted at the wall clock and adjusted his glasses, “at 5:30a.m?”

“Half of the world is up you hibernating bear! y/n is craving ice-cream. You know better than to refuse her so go to her. Your service starts right now.”

Xiaojun scoffed and remained glued to the stairs. Ten raised a brow questioning him but instead of answering him xiaojun came up with one of his own.

“And why aren’t you going?”

“Switchblade prince is called so I gotta go. I don’t think you want her to wait!.”

Xiaojun groaned when ten shot him a wink and left the living room. Of course he had no trouble in tending to your demands which as a medic, he understood very well but ten’s cockiness wasn’t something he was ever ready to handle.

“y/n! What does our prince wanted to eat this early in the morning?” he smiled at you, plopping down on the edge of the bed.

“Apples and bananas.”

“I meant what ice cream flavour do you want?”

“Ice cream? Who said ice cream? I want bananas.” you answered him, confused at his confusion!

It was only then that xiaojun realised that switchblade prince was never called in the first place. Ten had fled. Due to fruits! He was contemplating as to what extent he should be manipulating ten’s words while telling you about his betrayal when you spoke up.

“Umm. i guess we can eat mint chocolate as well. I’ll eat a banana chocolate sandwich first then we can both watch a movie and finish the ice cream. What do you say?”

Ok! Maybe revenge could wait. Ice cream would be a priority here!

JAEHYUN

If your husband was cocky, you were seriously too many steps ahead of him and it has taken only 10 days for jaemin to realise that you were just jae's cup of tea and no one else's, at least not as a 4 months pregnant woman.

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" Jaehyun laughed at jaemin sprawled on the floor like a toddler.

"Noona screamed at me" jaemin mumbled, hiding his face in his neck.

"Oh jaemin! Why did she do it? Were you teasing her again. You know that she doesn't take sarcasm too we-

"No. She threw up the food i made for her and that too thrice since yesterday. I got angry so i told her to eat up or else i won't be making anymore for her. She threw the pillow at me and ordered me to never talk to her again! I mean it's not like i was showing real anger! She's hungry since yesterday. If she won't eat up then she'd be sick. What did I do wrong! Now I made her favourite pasta and she won't open the door for me."

Jaehyun sighed and crouched down to jaemin's level. He knew your emotions weren't in your control anymore but jaemin wasn't wrong either. He was just doing what was right for you and unintentionally, you had ended up hurting the poor boy. Jaehyun patted jaemin's hair before he told him to inform taeyong about his possible absence from the upcoming meetings and activities.

"You can't do that." Jaemin said the obvious.

"Do you want her to eat or not!" Jaemin frantically nodded at him before running off to the main office.

Heating up the pasta, jaehyun made his way to your shared bedroom in black neos.

"Baby open up it's me!" He knocked at the door and hearing his voice,you immediately opened it.

"You are here!" You exclaimed, feeling beads of moisture in the corner of your eyes.

"Aww. Now is not the time to cry." He cooed, entering the room with the tray. Placing it on the coffee table, he turned around and hugged you just the way he missed you.

"I'm sorry for being occupied and only coming back at night. But I'm here for a few days so let's get you all happy like a seal!" He laughed, ruffling your hair.

"I-i yelled at jaemin for no reason." You confessed not being aware that he was already filled in by the younger boy.

"You wanna apologize?" You nodded as he squished your cheeks in his hands and leaned in to kiss your pouty lips.

"Later on! Now's the time for evening lunch and getting this food in your tummy without it backfiring!"

You laughed at how smoothly he eased your worries. After eating properly, you apologised to jaemin which he accepted but not before crying like a little boy he was!

Bonus :

KUN

"Yangyang what the heck are you doing near y/n. I told you to keep your meaningless books away from her!" Kun felt like his blood pressure would shot up anytime soon.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh really? What's the book that you are reading to her?"

"How to walk like a pro when you are only 2 months old! I want the baby to be high class like me."

Kun's hands found refuge in his hair as he groaned at the boy. Now he needed to read all the books that could possibly reverse yangyang's teachings.

"There is no such book available."

"Yeah that's why i wrote it by myself. Pulled an all nighter but when the baby would start walking at only 2 months of age, you'd thank me!"

#neowritingsnet #nct-writers #kafenetwork #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct 127 reactions #wayv reactions #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #nct father au #jaehyun scenarios #nct mafia #nct mafia reactions #wayv mafia #nct x reader #nct dream reactions

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transgenderknothead · 3 years

Text

I know I've been gone for like ever, but I was working on something super cool, so without further adieu... I Want the Truth a creepy pasta fanfiction just under 2k words!

Truth is undefinable, yes it has a definition, not lying, but how do you determine what’s a lie and what isn’t? It’s difficult, especially when you get different answers from the same person. My mother always tells me I have no memory due to various different accidents. First she said car crash, then she said nearly drowned, then it was kidnapped, her current story is that I had been in a coma for most of my life due to a birth defect. When I ask why her story keeps changing she says she isn’t quite sure what is causing my memory loss, as all of those things happened. My friends and I were hanging out at the old children’s mental hospital, it had burned down about four years ago and ever since my friends and I would go and try to figure out why and how it had burned. So far we had found nothing, nothing that was in one piece anyway, we had found three shattered skull fragments and a lot of broken wood. We’d searched all over the building, except for one room, which we could never open. It was a metal door, that when we tried using axes, hatchets, and even random pieces of wood nearby, they fell apart before even reaching it. We have no idea what’s on the other side, but it feels important, and because my friends are stubborn, we will never stop trying to open it or get inside. “Again!” Toby, my boyfriend, yelled when the head of his metal axe fell off when it made contact with the door. “At least this time we hit it,” I rubbed his shoulder as he slumped, “and it looks like you even dented it.” “If his noodle arms dented it, imagine what I could’ve done,” his athletic twin brother, Evan, flexed. “I don’t know, why don’t ya punch it, see what happens,” Toby argued. “Would you two knock it off,” their 14 year old little sister Jessy rolled her eyes, “what did Mom and Dad say about you arguing all the time?” Toby rolled his eyes, a tiny smile appearing when we made eye contact. “We should head back,” I piped up a little. Back at the house Toby and I went into his room, separated from his twin by a curtain, the tall boy flopping onto his bed. “Are you okay?” I rubbed his back. “Something about that room just,” he rolled over, pulling me with him, “I don’t know, it makes no sense.” “What is it?” “It gives me a weird gut feeling,” he scratched my back lightly, “like something bad is behind it.” I had woken up in the middle of the night, bolting up in bed next to Toby. It was always the same nightmare. I’m sitting in a pitch black room, a fuzzy figure of a purple, pink, blue, and yellow jester with a hammer sitting in front of me. It seemed like it was trying to communicate with me, but I couldn’t hear, or even see, much of it. The next morning we all headed over to the mental hospital again. Toby, having hurt his hand playing guitar last night, was going to let me try opening the door with his brand new axe. So here we stood, axe held over my head, everyone else standing back. When I swung the door flew open and the axe hit the floor instead. “Um, to whichever deity is out there, please help,” Jessy whimpered. I walked in, it looked as though this room had the worst of it. An entire wall caved in, shattered glass everywhere, all of the furniture destroyed. The walls that were left standing had what was very obviously scratch marks from whatever child was in here. “Holy,” I whispered, spinning around to look at the room. I kept looking around until I saw the bed in the corner, it was rusted and broken to no end, but that isn’t what caught my attention. It was the seemingly untouched blue bunny stuffed animal holding a very broken, but unburned, Jack-in-the-Box. I reached for it instinctively, but Toby grabbed my wrist. “Don’t,” he whispered. “I just want to know,” I grabbed the toys, inspecting them, before dropping them and gasping. I slowly picked them back up, and cradled the bunny, who was now missing an eye. “What is it?” Evan stood in the doorway, very obviously too scared to enter the room fully. “My name,” I whispered, just loud enough

to hear, “it’s on both of these.” I twisted the toys to show the red stitched name on the bunny and the carved name on the box. “Oh god,” Jessy whispered. I clutched the toys to my chest and started running back. “WAIT!” Toby called. “I have to know, I need to know the truth about my memory, and the truth about these!” I yelled when he caught up to me, he let go and let me run. “Whoa, slow down kid, where’s the fire,” my mom jokes. “What’s this,” I held up the toys and her face went pale, “don’t even think about lying, I want the truth this time.” “They were a couple of toys your childhood friend’s gave you before they left,” she replied. “Okay, new question,” I stood up straighter, “why were they in the mental hospital?” She gasped and dropped her tea cup. She smiled, looking at me, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Mom, why can’t I remember anything? Don’t give me a story like you do every time.” “You still believed in imaginary friends,” she cried, “you were twelve, that’s not normal for a 12 year old kid! I had to do something to make you realize they were fake!” “So putting me in a hospital and drugging me into forgetting was your grand solution?” I yelled. “You don’t understand,” she started. “You’re right, I don’t understand, but what I do understand is that I’m not the type of person to believe something I haven’t seen, or hasn’t been proved to me,” I crossed my arms, knowing what I had to do. “Don’t do anything stupid,” my boyfriend spoke when they finally caught up. “I have to know,” I spoke before turning around, taking the toys with me, and running into the woods. I ran for a long time, a couple of memories coming back to me. Playing with a tall stuffed clown, a tall red headed man with long hair and wearing a feathery jacket handing me the blue bunny, setting the fire in the hospital. Eventually, I ran up to a familiar metal gate that led to a run down carnival. I opened the gate and it creaked. My heart was pounding in my chest as I clutched the bunny tighter to my chest, the Jack-in-the-Box in my hoodie pocket. I heard a twig snap by the merry go round, causing me to run into the hall of mirrors. I fell against a wall trying to stop myself from crying. “Oh Gumdrop,” a singsong voice came from the entrance. I hid farther into the dark corner, “you don’t need to hide, we’re friends!” I watched the black and white clown look around the room, his hands on his hips. His eyes meet mine, he smiles wider and gets closer. “Jack!” A voice laughed from behind him, the jester from my dreams stepped forward. “It’s her!” Jack pointed, and the jester looked my way. “I’ve been tryna reach ya,” he pulled me out of the dark, “but ya never heard me!” “I’m sorry,” I whimpered, his grip wasn’t tight, but I could tell neither of them were human. “Don’t be sorry! It aint your fault!” The jester giggled, pulling me out of the hall of mirrors and into the big tent, where three more inhuman entities were talking and working. One was a shorter man with black hair, a sketch pad, blue jacket, and a white mask with a red smile sitting next to him. Next to him was a more average height man with dark grey skiing, all black clothes, golden eyes, and what looked like a puppet hanging from golden strands of light coming from his fingers. Across from him was a very tall white haired man dressed like a magician and holding a wand. “There you are,” the man with the sketch book said. “We’ve been waiting for you to come back,” the grey man next to him continued. “She doesn’t remember us,” the magician looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “Don’t apologize!” The jester rolled his eyes, “we’ll just reintroduce you!” “I’m Laughing Jack!” Jack spoke, “you used to call me L.J. for short!” “This is Puppeteer, who you called Pup,” the man with the sketchbook pointed at the man with the puppet. “This is Helen,” Puppeteer smiled, pointing at the one with the sketchbook. “I’m Papa El De Grande,”

the magician spoke, “you always called me Mr. Magic.” “I’m Candy Pop!” the jester tickled my sides, “you called me Pop.” “Where’s Jason?” L.J. looked around. “His workshop, fixing Mr. Bun Bun,” Puppeteer said, “it’d be best if she went alone.” Puppeteer took me over to a red and white tent near the big one. He told me to just go in, and that he’s never been mad when I was around because he never wanted to scare me away. “Jason?” I poked my head in, and was greeted by a big stuffed purple worm covered in patches. “Glutton!” A voice yelled from farther into the tent, “get over here!” I followed as the worm snaked towards a redhead man with golden eyes, putting an eye on the rabbit that I had come here with. “Jason?” He looked up at the calling of his name, smiling gently when he saw it was me. “It’s been a long time, Dolly,” he handed me the bunny, standing up he towered over me, “come on, let’s go for a walk.” During the walk he answered all of my questions that my mother refused to answer. He caught me up on all of the missing details of the past. And eventually led me back to the front gate. “It’s nearly time for you to get home,” pat my head. “Remember to just wind up the jack in the box when you want to see me!” Jack waved. “I’ll visit ya in your dreams again tonight, maybe now you’ll be able to hear me!” Candy Pop laughed. “Come back tomorrow,” Helen waved from his seat on the stairs of the merry-go-round. “Oh my god,” a voice came from behind me, my mother had her hand over her mouth as she glanced over the people I had spent my childhood with. “I was right, Mom,” I whispered. “Jason?” She whispered the name of the man who was trying to get away. “Yes?” He turned around slowly to look at my mother. “Oh my god,” she whispered, “Jason Meyers.” I looked at my mother at the use of our last name. Jason lowered his head. “Mom?” “You have been spending time with the spirit of your father, and I took that away,” her hand went over her heart, “oh, I am so sorry dear.” “Wait, Mom I didn’t even know,” I stuttered. “I needed to protect you from the things you weren’t ready to know,” he ushered us out, “now come back tomorrow, it’s getting late.” “We have to take your boyfriend to meet them tomorrow,” my mother spoke, causing Jason to look up, his eyes suddenly glowing green and his hair slowly turning white. “Okay,” Jack clapped his hands, his smile gone, “I think it’s time for bed.”

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #jason the toymaker #Jason the toymaker x reader #jason the toymaker x reader #candy pop #laughing jack #puppeteer #Helen Otis #Bloody painter

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now-im-a-belieber · 3 years

Note

omg can i please get "im gonna marry you one day" with george luz OR "you pretend that you dont know me in front of your(our) friends" with joe liebgott

whichever you want! tysm 💖💖

prompt: "im gonna marry you one day"

george luz x reader

a/n: i present to you some mediocre george luz fluff with only a LITTLE angst. to make up for my last atrocity lol. this is a feat for me, as the self proclaimed queen of sadness.

══════════════════

The first time he said so, you thought it was a joke. George was always joking. Always trying to get a reaction from you, whether it be a bright laugh or a mortified warning whisper. You were the best kind of friends.

It was after helping him home at the end of a very long night, when George was more exhausted than tipsy. So you shoved him toward his sofa and untied his shoes. And just as you grabbed your coat and turned to leave, he said...

"You're too good. I'm gonna have to marry you one day."

His tired mumbles died out almost exactly as his head hit the throw pillow. And when you turned with a blush you saw he was already asleep where you'd left him, but that same mischievous grin remained on his face.

It had to be a joke. So you didn't think a thing of his comment, besides the come back you were going to have to throw his way, come morning.

That's how the two of you worked. Batting ideas between your wits until one or both of you were doubled over with laughter and the night was through.

He'd been a good friend. He'd been a generous soul. A watchful eye. A listening ear. He'd been there for you, and stayed that way.

So you'd come to know George well. Whether either of you cared to admit it or not, there was an unspoken, inexplicable bond between the two of you. He was the first person you'd call should disaster strike. The last person you wanted to sit through a movie with, but the person whose commentary you missed most when it was just you in front of the telly.

He was always joking. And whether or not he succeeded in getting you to giggle, he was laughing all the while. But there were those rare moments, when the two of you would talk like the world was ending. Trading dire secrets or genuine apologies.

So when the second time he said it, you knew it wasn't a joke.

There you stood at the platform, the roaring of an approaching train growing louder with each thud of your heart. You wouldn't let yourself think of why you stood here, or where George was about to head off too. You couldn't imagine what horrors might dull his brightness. You shuddered to imagine the glimmer in George's eye being blown away. So you thought further ahead.

"You better make it back here before too long." You shrugged, reaching out to straighten George's collar. You didn't know how to say you'd miss him.

He grabbed your hand, to dismiss your pestering, you thought. But he didn't let go. George just held on, letting his eyes dart from your intertwined fingers, back to meet your own gaze. And then he sucked in a breath, and said...

"I've gotta make it back. I'm gonna marry you one day."

It wasn't some witty call back to the time he'd said so before. He really meant it. You could tell by the softness in his usually impish smile. And the way his eyes desperately searched yours.

And then just like that, his hand left yours, and George was stepping onto the train.

How dare he, you thought, leave you with such weighted words without time to ask why he'd said them. Without time to swat his arm and curse at the way he made your heart rate multiple.

George waved from the door of the train before an impatient usher shooed him to find his seat. You just barely heard as he replied "Alright I'm goin', I'm goin'."

And you tried to pretend that wasn't the last thing you heard him say. You tried to imagine he wouldn't be gone long. And you tried to imagine what life would be like once he returned.

You headed back to the way things were. But nothing was the same with George gone.

And even when you finally heard from him, it wasn't at all as comforting as you hoped it might've been. He wrote little. And asked more of you than he said of himself. He asked for updates about local goings-on. Asked you to tell him how his family seemed, despite having been in touch with them all the same.

You wrote back, answering all his questions and daring to ask a few vague inquiries of your own. You danced around the subject of what he said to you. And he never directly responded to your subtle hints.

But despite having heard George say what he said with your own ears, you decided after a while that he couldn't have been serious. Rarely was he. But often did you let your own thoughts blow things out of proportion. That had to be what was going on, now...

So you stopped wondering, on paper at least. You kept your many frequent thoughts of George to yourself. And you tried not to worry about when you'd hear from him again, or the fact that he had less to say each time.

You just answered all of his usual questions about the state of your hometown and secretly dreamed of the day you got to stroll through it together again. You never knew when his next letter would come. Sometimes months would pass with nothing but dust filling your mailbox. And years had passed since this new discombobulated routine had become normal.

But still, everyday you heard the postman swing open the gate at the end of your path, you eagerly hurried to fetch the mail.

When you heard that sure scuffle of the postman approaching the porch steps that led to your post box, you dusted your hands of a day's work and scurried toward the door.

But, as you approached, a knocking gave you pause. The postman never knocked. You took a beat to smooth your wrinkled clothes before answering the door you were near opening anyway.

At first, it seemed no one was there. Then you looked down to find George Luz on one knee.

"You're home!" You gasped taking in the sight of him. The swoop of his unusually long hair. The grin on his face and that same old glimmer in his eye. You'd never seen it shine brighter, in fact.

Your favourite friend reached for your hands and held them as he did at the train station; like he really meant too.

"I told you I'd be back to marry you one day. Wanna make it soon?"

All your second guesses and dismissive thoughts flew out the window as you threw yourself to meet George where he knelt in your doorway. His arms wrapped around you in time to save you from crashing to the porch, and his huff of stunned laughter was like music to your ears. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tight to prove you weren't dreaming.

"Is that a yes or are you trying to strangle me for taking so long to properly ask?" He quipped

"Both!" You cried, burying your face in his neck and marvelling over how familiar this was. How all the time that had passed so miserably slow without George seemed like no time at all, now.

"Well, we'd better go do the damn thing before you deprive me of too much oxygen." George insisted, holding you closer all the same.

"What, right now?" You chuckled, leaning back to search George's gaze. He was as beautiful as ever. Just as wonderfully himself. Though you could tell some deep wary exhaustion played behind the shine of his eyes. That could be felt with in time. Now, there was a rather pressing matter at hand...

"War is over babe, and I'd been waiting long before that anyhow."

With that, it was decided. George shuffled to his feet, raising you up alongside him. He hurried you along your flustered rush to grab a couple of things. And then the two of you flew down the porch steps and into the rest of your lives together.

You'd been longing for this day before you even knew George was too. Now there was nothing that could keep you apart. No war. No time. No worries. You were now and forever bound to have every movie night ruined by George's blathering over it. And that's just the way you wanted it.

#george luz x reader #george luz imagine #band of brothers #george luz

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vesuvian-american-fics · 3 years

Text

Something Entirely New Ch 14

Nothing But The Sound Of Paint Brushes

You and the crew go painting with a shy amazonian painter, named Rayna. (AO3)

Words: 1,741

“Morning sleepyhead.” Asra croons, stuffing his nose into your hair and nuzzling your neck close. You had wondered why you felt extra weight dipping into your mattress this morning, and that familiar warmth of Asra’s body embracing yours. You hum in delight, giving Asra an affectionate squeeze.

“Morning indeed. How’d you sneak in here?” You ask playfully, indulging his cuddly desires as you through your leg over his waist to pull yourself that much closer to him. A mix of tangled limbs and hushed voices raspy from a long night's rest. Mornings like this with Asra weren’t uncommon back at the shop but what’s new is the sound of clanging dishes in the kitchen, rather, not any kitchen noises made by Faust. Instead, now it’s Muriel, making a quick breakfast of eggs and tea.

“You looked so cute sound asleep I couldn’t resist sliding in next to you.” He hummed taking an exaggerated sniff of your hair, the scent of shampoo he bought for you clinging to your tussled locks. You pat his shoulders signaling to him that it was finally time to crawl out of bed and give Muriel some company.

“The food smells good as always.” You commented, pulling on some clothes for the day and padding over to the washroom to brush your teeth. Asra nodded in agreeance before you listened as he glided down the stairs. The muffled conversation between Asra and Muriel brought a smile to your face.

When you entered the kitchen Muriel was just finished setting the table and pulling out your chair, you smiled at the man before placing your hand over his in silent thanks. He blushed as he nodded to you, motioning to your chair for you to sit. Your morning together was spent the same as it always had been, eating, listening to Asra chatter about his dream the night before and getting excited about the day ahead in town.

“Today we get to paint our little vases!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands together. You loved to paint, especially on mornings you secretly kept the shop closed longer than you should have when Asra was away. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you always thought, it gave you time to slow down and take a breather while running the shop alone.

Muriel offered a small smile before he cleared his throat to speak.

“You’ll have to help me again, Y/N... if you don’t mind.” He stammered out. You could tell he was working on building up his confidence with the way he spoke to you lately, it was a welcome change. The way he walks with his back straighter, he always has a small smile plastered on his lips, he keeps his eyes on yours instead of bouncing around the room to avoid you. It was like watching a flower’s petals unfurl and open up to let the sunshine in. Beautiful.

“Of course, Muriel.” You reply, smile growing just a bit wider. Asra was pouting playfully.

“Help me too, Y/N!” He said, he was already a natural when it came to paining. He was more stylistic and abstract with his work while you loved to dabble in realism. You and Asra shared a laugh before you pressed a hand to his knee.

“Yes, of course I can’t leave you out Asra~” You coo. You stood from the table, missing the way Asra deflated at the loss of your touch. Muriel silently chuckled at the drop in Asra's shoulders when you left. Muriel stood and the three of you deposited your dishes in the sink and left for town.

...

“Howdy you crazy kids!” James called from the door of his shop waving the three of you over. Asra greeted the man and you all stepped inside the pottery shop to see your vases.

“Vases lookin’ pretty darn good if I do say so myself! There’s a lot of love put into these pieces, even an amateur can see it!” James comments fondly, the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly as his smile deepens. Asra grins from ear to ear, marveling at the near finished look of the vases.

“They’re perfect!” He sighs dreamily as he inspects your work. You couldn’t help but chuckle at Asra’s excitement, he was always a delightful person but this is a type of glee you haven’t seen in a while. Not unless you come home with his favorite food, blue tongued skink.

“We still have to paint them.” Muriel added, his voice was deep and flat but the faint smile on his lips was noticeable, he was happy too.

“Oh yes yes! Don’t let me hold you all day again! Go on next door and get to paintin’ these beauties! Shoo shoo!” James chortled, ushering the three of you out the front doors and right through the next shops doors. He chatted a bit with the owner before he shook your hand roughly shooting you a wink and heading out before you could even give a proper goodbye. You smiled wistfully as his short form staggered back to his own shop, the walls were thin and you could hear him greeting new customers every now and again.

The painting instructor was the polar opposite of James. A tall slender woman, long wavy strawberry blonde locks fell graciously down her back, she wore a long flowing dress that pooled at her feet with a bright shawl pulled over her shoulders, accented by a large sun hat that sat atop her head. Much like her body, her face was long and slender was well, a thin but beautifully sculpted nose right above a small mouth, large tired looking golden eyes with long blonde lashes. She was freckled, blushy, her voice was small and mousy and she stuttered quite a bit. You could tell she was awkward but it seemed her confidence lied with her work.

Her paintings were astounding, by the looks of it she could paint in just about any style or medium. Realism, abstract, paint splashes, oil paint, acrylic, water color, pastels. It was awe inspiring.

She nodded silently towards a long table set to the back of the room, offering the three of you a small smile and bow. She shuffled quickly out of the room and into what you imagined to be a tea room or kitchenette of sorts. She reappeared before you soundlessly with three steaming cups of tea.

She whispered, “I recommend acrylic paint.” She slid a box of the paint onto the table before placing three jars of water to rinse the colors, and finally fresh brushes to use. Without another word she glided across the room to sit herself in front of her large easel and continue with her own work. It was quiet, save for the sound of the morning breeze rolling through the room and rustling the lady’s plants and wind chimes. The three of you silently decided to keep quiet as well, it was comfortable and serene. Everyone at peace and creating art. Muriel would look to you for advice and you would point to whichever paint you thought would look best. He’d always nod in response, almost a bit too formal and serious for what was being discussed. He wanted his succulent to be perfect, and evidently, he imagined you were the best person to help him create that.

Asra would nudge your elbow and ask you opinion on his ideas for his vase.

“More purple? Or more gold?” He’d whisper, feline like eyes never leaving his brush as it danced along the hardened clay of his vase.

“I think there's enough purple Asra.” You’d respond trying to stifle your laughter, he’d exhale hard through his nose at your words before he got back to painting. You shook your head at him playfully before you continued your work. You admired the quality of the paints the instructor acquired, it was smooth and silky as all good paints should be. She had rare paints that she wasn’t afraid to share, due to the fact she bought all of her supplies in bulk. The rest of the morning was spent sipping tea and painting in near silence.

When the three of you finished, you noticed the painter's owlish eyes watching you over her easel. The sound of your paint brushed dripping into your water jars for the last time must has signaled to her that you were finished and ready to leave.

“Finished?” She asked in a hushed tone, eyes bouncing between the three vases. Asra's loud and bright with a mixture of lavenders and royal purple decorated with golden stars and constellations, yours was a solid color mixed with a milky white as his heavy cream had been poured directly into the paint, one that would go lovely back at the shop, it wouldn’t attract too much attention but it wasn’t bland either. Just your taste. Finally, for Muriel, he wondered if against the tans and gold of the desert would a sky-blue pot go well? You agreed and that’s what he did, not giving it much else thought. If you said it was a good idea, then it was the best idea.

“Lovely work. It’s darling.” She said, smile spreading and the apples of her cheeks tinting pink. She ushered you all to the doors and instructed for you all to let your pots dry in the window sill at home for a day and they’ll be right as rain.

“I’m sorry. I never caught your name, ma’am.” You mentioned just as you were stepping out into the early afternoon sun.

“My name? O-oh is Rayna. Have a blessed day.” She said and slipped back into her house before you could reply, you smiled before you bowed at nothing in particular and the three of you head back home to place your vases in the window.

“All the quiet made me sleepy...” Asra yawned, stretching his arms high above his head as he walked inside.

“Let’s have a lazy day in.” He whined, already heading up to his bed without another word. You chuckled at him before you heard Muriel’s stifled yawn from behind you.

“Alright, lazy day it is!” You say, dashing up the stairs to throw yourself into bed. Muriel stumbled behind you before he curled up in his own bed and the rest of your day was spent napping. A content smile remaining on your lips.

#something entirely new update #the arcana #the arcana game #asra #muriel #asriel #Muriel x reader #asra x reader #muriel x asra x reader #fluff #the apprentice

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nebula-jazz · 4 years

Text

Your World part 2

Alpha Bakugou x reader

Rewind to when you first moved into the apartments. The owners had let you park your moving van in front of the building since you were an omega and you had no alpha.

The fact that most people were kinder to alphaless omegas in this time made both you and the dragon a little happier. speaking of the dragon he kept telling you that you should have probably asked the movers to have stayed and helped instead of sending them away. You had insisted that you could move most of the heavy boxes and the little bit of furniture by yourself. But you had felt bad because you had already made them miss their lunch to help bring up the bigger pieces like your table set and couch.

You simply brushed the overprotective dragon off. You didn’t want those foul smelling alphas to rub their scent off on your water bed or any of your nesting things. However you did agree that you did decide to carry one to many boxes as you struggled to balance them. Not only did you carry one to many they were also heavy. Most of them filled to the brim with crafting supplies and one of them carried your alphas very heavy cloak.

You remembered when you could carry all of this with ease. But as the years rolled by you let yourself to grow soft because were you used to to doing everything by yourself but after Bakugou died you had two alphas that mostly refused to let you to do heavy lifting.

Now here you were, struggling with heavy boxes, with no alphas. You felt like you kinda fucked yourself. What irked you more is that people were just watching you struggle.

You guessed you zoned out at the elevator as you tried to regain your balance so you could open it but you were brought back by it dinging. You sighed in relief as to the fact that you didn’t need to open them yourself.

You head a very familiar unnecessarily grouchy voice.

“Do you need help?” You didn't answer thinking that it was a) just your imagination and b) you were more focused on trying not to fall. You were so zoned in on not tipping that you didn’t realize that you let out a distressed scent and a panicked chirp when they started to lean too far back for your liking. Suddenly you didn’t have as many boxes and most of the weight was gone. You both rushed to get into the elevator as it had started to close. Once inside you looked up to properly thank the person who had helped you.

Your words caught in your throat as you saw a familiar face and eyes. Spiky blonde hair and glowing ruby red eyes greeted you in a resting scowl. You saw your alpha in all his jagged edges and soft line. His scent hit you like a truck and you had to take a deep breath and let out your shaky starter.

“Hi.”

The more you looked you noticed that he was obviously in a partial hero costume. You now realize that he was the Pro Ground Zero. You had never seen him before as you didn’t own a tv and your phone was strictly for calling Mina, Kirishima and business partners. But now as you stared at the duplicate of your alpha you felt your heart stopping all over again.

His scowl softened into a soft but cocky smile that had your heart doing flips.

“Hey Angel” he said flirtatiously.

“I don’t think we have met... I’m Y/N.” You said trying to calm your nerves and your howling omega. Strangely, the dragon was quiet.

“I am Katsuki Bakugou or Ground Zero. Whichever you prefer.” He said confidently.

You laughed.

“I think I will say with Bakugou.” His lips twitched in irritation. You smiled at him and shifted the box in your hand. “Thank you for helping me. what floor are you on?”

The playful glint returned to his eyes as he responded.

“6th floor. what about you?” You smiled brightly

“Same!” You tried to calmly talk to him for the rest of the ride and he helped you take boxes to your apartment.

Bakugou absolutely refused to let you take up all of your boxes by yourself. He decided to help for the rest of the time. He had explained that he was moving himself. You tried to offer to help him as he helped you but he said that done and he was free.

He also helped you unpack and asked why you were by yourself.

“I would normally have help!” you said while you brought another box into the kitchen as he unpacked plates. “But Mina is picking up an extra patrol downtown and Kiri is covering a shift for a friend as they move!”

He stared at you for a moment.

“You know Mina and Kirishima?” You looked up from the box you were rummaging through confused.

“Yeah? Mina helps me pay for the shop I run and Kiri is my best friend.”

He snorts.

“That’s why he put up such a fight to cover my shift.”

“OH! So you are the person he is covering for?” Bakugou nods as he placed a mixer closer to the bottom than the top shelf where you had it. “Hey!” you protested.

“You could fall and break your neck.” He said in a no argument tone. A puff of frustrated steam came through your nose.

He nearly completely unpacked most of the boxes, except for your nesting items. As much as your omega was glad to see their alpha again they didn’t completely know this alpha.

Bakugou ended up dragging you to his apartment which was ironically right next to yours and fed you spicy curry. When you took the first bite you nearly cried.

Your mind was pushed back to centuries ago on the day after your marriage. you smelled something new and spicy when you woke up around noon. You remember your body being sore and you had your alpha sit behind you as you ate your fill. He had said he had refused to eat until you finished as it was tradition. You remember the warmth and the feeling of safety. You remember his asking if all human omegas were able to get pregnant. You remember replying yes. You remember his happy purrs lulling you to sleep as you felt full and content in the cave where his horde and your new nest laid.

You were brought back to a very panicked Bakugou. You waved him off.

“It’s not too spicy! I just haven’t had it in awhile.” You said in a choked voice and you proceeded to inhale the bowl and tried to wait for Bakugou to finish before asking for more. That didn’t end up happening as he refilled your bowl every time he noticed you staring at his pot of curry.

It was very late by the time you two had finished chatting and eating. Sometime you got a text from Mina and Kiri saying that they got home safe. They also sent a text saying they were both off and were able to help restock the store tomorrow. Bakugou had walked you to your apartment and made sure that you locked your doors. You fell asleep not needing to wrap yourself up in his cape. And for the first time in a long time. You didn’t have nightmares.

Bakugou was pissed that he hadn’t met this sweet omega earlier in his life. Normally omegas sweet scents gave him headaches but your honey coated earthy scent made his head spin. He gently took the soft blanket that you had wrapped yourself in as you two played chess. He might or might not have purposely turned down the thermostat so that you would need it. He was tempted to just put the blanket it the wash but when he got hit with another wave of your scent you closed your apartment door he decided to take it to his bed.

He tried to curl into his blankets without it, the blanket sitting at the end of his bed. But he ended up kicking off all of the blankets and curling into it in his sleep. He didn’t know why but he felt like you were hurt and he was the reason why. He also had the feeling that he knew you, but you two had never met before... Right?

Note

Did not expect to write as much as I did but here you go! if i had forgot to tag you please let me know! also if you enjoyed it please comment! You have no idea how much joy it brings me when I have comments galore to read and respond to! Thank you for reading and get ready for the next chapter! Side note i have no idea how many chapters this is going to be but when I do I will let you guys know.

#alpha!bakugou #alpha!bakugou x reader #alpha bakugou katsuki #alpha bakugou x reader #xreader #abo #mha

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theobxhummingbird · 4 years

Text

Not so sneaky. -Luke Patterson x Reader.

Summary: Luke’s shirts go missing, and rushed Y/N seemed to know where they are.

A/N: Anonymous asked about an imagine with reader stealing Luke’s clothes, then wears them, and Alex realizes, so here it is. Enjoy it readers.😀😀😀

It had become a habit, to always sneak one shirt, every time Y/N comes to Luke’s house. Or it simply doesn’t have to be his house; the studio where Sunset Curve performed, always had Luke’s shirts he left behind. And, normally, he was getting very confused on where they disappeared. He knew exactly where his stuff is placed and he never had a problem with losing his belongings. But it frightened him, that they might’ve got stolen. Though, Alex’s sister, didn’t really refer to it as stealing, more as a friendly borrowing. She had imagined herself in his shirts, or him giving her one since forever, due to the years of having a crush on him. Her and Luke were connected because of the band, since both her and Alex play in it; well actually, Alex does, but Y/N comes as Luke’s back vocals. Though she never dared to wear them in public, she still wore them to sleep, or when she was only in the walls of her room.

-Are you going to rehearsal today? –her mum popped her head in the room.

-Rehearsal! –her figure straightened up from the bed, at the realization that she’s late. –Mum---damn it, Alex will kill me.

-Slow down my child, he just left.

-Then---why---didn’t---he tell me he’s going? –she barely even put her socks on right.

-I don’t know, and am definitely not going to interfere in any of your arguments. Dad and I need to watch the news. –she blew her a kiss, and disappeared from the door.

-What type of remote couple are you jeez? Watching news at the age of 40. –she said, and threw on whichever shirt came to her hand first. And she thought it was just a plain white T-shirt, not knowing it’s Luke’s. She quickly took her bike from the garage, and was off to rehearsal. Y/N had never been so late to something, always avoiding getting into any type of argument with her brother, who hated people being late. Though the others could wait, he was a tough rock to deal with.

-I’m here. –she jumped in the room, and shut the door behind her, -I’m so sorry I’m late, mum reminded me of rehearsal. For else my brother didn’t even care about me.

-You’re 17 Y/N and mature enough for your own meetings. If you blame me for your own inabilities, then you better leave the band. Or, get yourself an alarm clock. –he said from behind the drums.

-Yeah I don’t need one, I have you; you never shut up. –she took her guitar and got behind the microphone.

-Oooh, slow burn; she roasted-. –said Reggie, but stopped getting fluttered when a glare from Alex shut him. –Yeah, that look says everything, I better not interfere in the sibling fight.

-Nice shirt. –said Luke, placing the microphone next to hers. Her eyes darted at her stomach, to only realize that she should never rush things, even if she’s very late. Alex heard Luke, and was going to later analyze the entire thing, but for now, they needed to focus on playing.

-Hey, Y/N, -he said, while they were on an eating break, -is that shirt new?

-Y-yeah, yeah it is. I bought it yesterday. –she cleared her cough, but could see from the corner of her eye, that Luke was hardly holding back a laugh.

-Luke, didn’t you have the same shirt? I think I remember well.

-I don’t know. Maybe. –he smirked, and continued stuffing his mouth with fries. Y/N started to fan herself with her hand, pulling the collar of the shirt because she couldn’t breathe.

-Or is that your shirt?

Y/N was now choking on her water. Luke tapped her back, and when she stabilized herself finally, there was an answer,

-Why would I take Luke’s shirts? Are you crazy? I don’t take clothes from you, then why would I from Luke?

-That’s because I don’t let your stinky nose mess through my stuff, Y/N.

-Ha Ha Ha. It’s like I want to wear your clothes.

She was sinking in embarrassment, and Luke was having fun with it. He realized there was something up with her for a long time, but it took him a few of her weird actions, to prove to himself, that Y/N might have a little crush on him. Not that he didn’t; she was a nice, fun, smart and a talented person, but he never thought about them dating, because Alex was his very close friend. Though girls like girls, always planning their wedding from the moment they catch feelings for a guy, and Y/N was no different of course. Like every normal teenage girl, she sometimes thought about the feeling of being in a young relationship.

Alex didn’t seem to be persuaded by her words though, he took his pen from the music journal, as if he’s going to write something, and secretly marked a line on Luke’s shirt. He didn’t know if she’s going to take it later, but really hoped she will, so he could write a conclusion in his head, that his sister and Luke are dating in secret. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

Y/N rocked the high notes, and it left everyone to only praise her. Luke was mind blown, and sometimes came to her microphone, so they could sing together, which made Alex way madder, that he threw one of his drumsticks and it hit Luke right in the head.

-Dude, -he held his head, -why did you do that?

-There was a big bug on your head, god knows what it can do to you. I saved your life, unthankful.

-Wait, I’ll go find some ice. –said Y/N, dropping the guitar at the stand, and jumping off stage.

-Ice, ice baby. –Reggie started to sing. –Ice, Ice baby. Alright stop, collaborate and listen Y/N is back with a brand new ice pack-

- Oh my god, shut your cassette tape of a mouth, -he said to Reggie and turned to Y/N, - Hey! He can get it himself.

-You hit him in the head, and it sounded as if you hit a pumpkin bro, I’ll help him.

-I’LL help him. You stay on your place. –he got all sassy, and when he left the room, the only thing that came to his head was a coca cola can from the freezer in their studio. And that’s what he came back with.

-I got hot even from the hit. –Luke slipped his hands under his shirt, and took it off, tossing it on his backpack. Staying shirtless next to her, and even touching his knee to hers, made Y/N turn into a red traffic light. Alex observed the entire thing, and she tried not to be obvious, though even Reggie and Bobby were aware of everything. -Yeah---we’re going home. Come on Reggie. –said Bobby, and said bye to the boys with their handshakes, as well as Reggie

.-I’m going to get my backpack, and then we’re leaving. –said Alex, and went to the little couch they had, to pack away his stuff. Y/N went to the bathroom quickly before they leave, and Luke had a crazy idea of shoving his shirt into hers without her or Alex knowing. It was really fun to him, to see her wearing his clothes, and now it was obvious where they disappeared.

-Come on Y/N, let’s get home before mum starts to panic and look for us with a whole police crew. –said Alex, when Y/N settled her backpack on her back. –Bye Patterson.

-Bye, Alex, bye Y/N

.-Bye Luke. –she didn’t even meet his eyes, and just followed her jealous brother out the door.

It ticked in him, the whole night, trying to know if she took his shirt. But it was really hard to know if she did, when there was music blasting at midnight as she tried to clean her room. He couldn’t wait anymore, impatiently tapping the floor with one foot. His parents were going to sleep, and warned her about putting headphones on, and she followed their order. Which for Alex, seemed like a great opportunity. He sneaked into her room, and even crawled to her backpack, and unzipped it, revealing what he was looking for. The same shirt Luke wore at rehearsal. The sound of the vacuum cleaner was filling the room, making her not hear a thing even more. He stumped his foot on the off button, and turned it off, as she still continued vacuuming.

-What is wrong with this? –she took her headphones off. –Oh, was my room that dirty that something got stuck?

-Maybe a shirt got stuck, take a good look. –he said from behind her, which made her jump.

-Youuuu-ALEX! Stop coming in my room without permi-

-wHy WoUlD I WeAr LuKe’S sHiRt? –he mocked her.

-Okay, I didn’t put that there. It’s really the first time I’m seeing it in my bag

.-I don’t believe you.

-I was in the bathroom, and when I came back we left. You were watching me the whole time.

-Nah huh, I don’t believe you. –he tossed the shirt, as it landed on her face.

-Whatever, I’m telling the truth.

-You lied earlier, though.

-Yes, I did. It was Luke’s shirt, okay? I took it because I was cold.

-I can’t even imagine the collection of his things you have put in a box in your closet. “I’m never washing this” “I’ll put it in a glass box so it never loses its scent”

-Get out already. –she took a cushion and threw it his way, but Alex was gone, so she missed him. –You’ll see Luke Patterson.

She opened the doors of her closet, and stuffed every single clothing she owned from Luke, and left her house, with a text message to Luke himself, to wait for her in the park near his home. Luke got excited. He spritzed some perfume, as well got dressed into some fresh clothes; fixed his hair, thinking Y/N will confess her feelings. But she didn’t know the facial expression that stormed her off the house, after getting annoyed at Alex.

-Hey…-he said with a wide smile, but his face dropped when she threw the backpack against his chest

.-These are all your clothes that I’ve borrowed from you. Take them all, and don’t worry they are washed.

-You didn’t have to do this-

-Yes I had to. I don’t want to be the reason behind you and my brother getting into a fight, because of a shirt I never put into my backpack today.

-Yeah---sorry---I did it. But only because it made me happy to see you wearing my clothes.

-Then I won’t be doing that anymore. I have my own.

-You really didn’t need to call me here to only give me my clothes. Or is there another reason why you’re here? –his chest arose in hope, and it dropped, waiting to hear the three words.

-No…there isn’t. I came here to ONLY give you the clothes, and go home.

-Okay, -he drew circles with his foot, -then I guess it’s all up to me.

-Wha- she couldn’t even say it properly, because he caught her face and pulled it towards his, attaching their lips together. It felt like Christmas, or New Year fireworks lit up in her. It was like being reborn or, nailing a high note. Those feelings all at once took a hold of her, and she couldn’t feel the tips of her fingers that didn’t know where to position in the moment, of how confused she was. Luke on the other hand, seemed like a professional in the whole thing. When they split apart, he placed the backpack on her back, as well as a few kisses to her cheeks. For a final, he pinched her nose, and intertwined their hands together.

-Come on crazy, I’ll walk you home. I don’t care if Alex gets mad, I love you and it’s all that matters.

-I-I don’t know what to say. –she still couldn’t proceed the situation. But she was walking; that she was aware of.

-Come on gorgeous, I know our feelings are mutual. It’s obvious. You love me too.

-Not---that---it’s not---true.

-Hah, I knew it, go on. –he was happily acting like a little kid.

-Okay…I like you, a lot. A lot, a lot, and it’s the reason I’ve been so weird with you lately. -I knew it Y/N, just didn’t want to rush you into it, because I could really even think about dating you because of Alex. But know if I think wisely, Alex doesn’t matter because it’s our relationship.

-Oh how he will matter when a drumstick comes flying your way.

-Uff, -he rubbed the place, -it still hurts you know?

-Awww, c’mere. –she pulled his hand, and placed a kiss to the place Alex threw the drumstick.-It’s nice to know I’ll have you around from now on.

-Yeah to secretly sneak shirts in my backpack, and then my brother arguing with me forever. It’s nice for you of course.

-At least one of us is having fun. –he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and squeezed her into him.

#luke patterson x reader #luke jatp x reader #luke patterson jatp #luke from julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #jatp netflix

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gleeblaineislife · 3 years

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my favorite blaine quotes in no particular order

“I just wanna make art and help people.”

“Do you think my dad built a car with me because he loves cars? I think he did it because he thought getting my hands dirty might make me straight.”

“If he and I got married, the Gap would give me a 50% discount.”

“Guys can be divas too.”

“Perfect gold star gay.”

“We met right here. I took this man's hand and we ran down that hallway. And for those that know me, I'm not in the habit of taking people's hands I've never met before but I think that my soul knew something that my body and my mind didn't know yet. It knew that our hands were meant to hold each other's, fearlessly and forever, which is why it's never really felt like I've been getting to know you, it's always felt like I was remembering you from something. As if in every lifetime you and I have lived, we've chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love all over again, over and over for all eternity. And I just feel so lucky that I found you so soon in this lifetime because all I want to do, all I've ever wanted to do is spend my life loving you. So, Kurt Hummel, my amazing friend, my one true love, will you marry me?”

”Kurt, there is a moment where you say to yourself – 'Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever.' Watching you do 'Blackbird' this week, that was a moment for me - about you. You move me, Kurt, and this duet would just be an excuse to spend more time with you.”

“You did win. So did I. We got each other out of all this. That beats a lousy trophy, don't you think?”

“At my old school there was a Sadie Hawkins dance and I had just come out so I asked a friend of mine, the only other gay guy in the school and while we were waiting for his dad to pick us up, these three guys um… beat the living crap out of us.”

“After being bullied for a long time, I took up boxing. I started the Dalton Branch of Fight Club which I obviously can't talk about.”

“You have two choices and whichever one you pick we will be supportive. But we can either drive you home, or we can clean you up, and you can go back out there and own that prom. This is your prom, Queen T.”

“Yep. I’m gay. 100% gay.”

“Well, it’s not that I don’t like girls. I love them. They’re very kind and sensitive and their bodies are beautiful. But loving them in that way… It’s just not who I am.”

“I just want to stop feeling like I’m a bad person.”

“I know how you feel. I got taunted at my old school, and it really pissed me off. I even complained about it to the faculty. And they were sympathetic and all, but you could just tell that nobody really cared. It was like, hey, if you’re gay, your life’s just gonna be miserable. Sorry. Nothing we can do about it. So I left. I came here. Simple as that. So you have two options. I mean, I’d love to tell you to just come enrol here, but tuition at Dalton’s sort of steep, and I know that’s not an option for everybody. Or you can refuse to be the victim. Prejudice is just ignorance, Kurt. And you have a chance right now to teach him.”

“I’m so scared that you’re gonna keep changing, and you’re gonna keep getting stronger, and then one day you’re gonna wake up and you’re gonna realize ‘I don’t love him anymore.’”

“And so I’d like to use that passion to pick my last song. Because there is nothing I am more passionate about than my fiance. So, um, Kurt, would you like to sing this last duet with me?”

“You always zig when I think you’re about to zag and I love that about you.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I pretend like I do. And I know how to act it out in song…”

“But as you and about 20 mortified shoppers saw, I’m not very good at romance. I don’t want to screw this up.”

“But you are special. Even without your body.”

“Let it go. Have a burger every now and then. Eat a bag of Cheetos. Skip your workouts. Sleep in a little. Your body isn’t going to change. And even if you have seven percent body fat, you’re gonna see that all of us are still gonna love you.”

“Kurt was my anchor, Finn. And now that he’s gone, I just, I feel like I’m floating.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, telling anyone what they can or cannot put into their hair is disgusting. It’s the first step towards tyranny, my friends. Next thing you know, they’ll start burning books. And then they’ll probably start burning people, too.”

“-walking through the cafeteria cuts out 15 seconds from my daily routine-”

“Hunger’s a big problem in this country. Although so is obesity, which is confusing.”

“And with you in it a wonderful life.”

“Thank you for knowing me.”

“Oh, I like to measure the stage to see how many paces I have in each direction-- that way if I decide to freestyle, I won’t fall on my ass into the crowd.”

“To always love you, to defend you even if I know you’re wrong, to surprise you, to always pick up your phone call no matter what I’m doing, to make you cookies at least twice a year, and to kiss you wherever and whenever you want but mostly just to make sure that you remember how perfectly imperfect you are.”

“I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him and then suddenly he was gone. My therapist told me I should concentrate on the thing I love most: music. And then I couldn’t even do that.”

“I got super depressed after we broke up, and, uh, my schoolwork sort of started to slip and I got cut from NYADA.”

“Oh, it’s not, but that was very, very pretty.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I did all of this for him, I did all of this for him. And now he’s not here. And so it just kind of feels like none of it matters.”

#glee #blaine anderson #even thought these dont have an order the first one is my favorite:))

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florrickandassociates · 3 years

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TGF Thoughts: 5x04- And the clerk had a firm...

You can tell I’m enjoying this season when episodes air on Thursdays and I’ve written a recap by Friday night. More under the cut, as always.

I woke up very early on Thursday morning and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to just watch this episode on my phone (I write these on rewatch). I’m sure the show was hoping that the upside-down clips of fake!Love Island would be disorienting, but wow, did this work on me. Between the lack of sleep and how plausible it would’ve been for me to accidentally have my phone upside-down with rotation lock on... I truly thought it was an ad for Love Island and also had to pause the episode to check my phone settings. Good job, show!

It turns out, however, that Carmen is doing a headstand and watching reality TV on her laptop. Very happy to see Carmen at home. It would be easy for the show to have her just be a mysterious presence at the firm, so even seeing her do perfectly normal things is a good reminder that she is a whole person and not just Associate Who Will Defend Anyone.

(I wouldn’t have expected Carmen to enjoy reality tv, but then again, I love Big Brother so...)

Carmen lives in a studio that doesn’t look like it is brand new!!! I’m ridiculously excited to see an apartment that actually looks like a place someone fresh out of law school might live. I’d believe it if Carmen lived in a studio in a luxury building or a one-bed on the salary she’s surely making at RL, but it’s very refreshing to see a character who isn’t super-wealthy on this show that tends to be about, well, very wealthy people.

Carmen is smarter than every other character on this show and on most TV shows: instead of opening the door without taking any precautions, she puts the chain on first. Remember how people used to just show up at Alicia’s door when she was the governor’s wife, and she’d always just open the door and look surprised?

Charles Lester is at Carmen’s door even though it’s nearly midnight. She tries to get him to leave, but he insists on staying. She closes the door to undo the chain, and uses the privacy of the closed door to grab a makeshift weapon, just in case.

Carmen explains her apartment by saying, “student loans.” So she doesn’t come from (excessive) money. (Or she was cut off by her family, but I feel like the early character description of Carmen said something about her family not having money.)

Lester has something very important to tell Carmen, but all his notes are on different scraps of paper and, even though he says his information is time sensitive, he takes his time looking for the right piece of paper.

He says Carmen can’t say she heard the info from him, blah blah. He’s there to share that in ten minutes, someone at the firm is going to be searched by the FBI. This info comes, of course, from Rivi.

Do we think Lester has to reference his notes to remember that the FBI is searching a name partner of Carmen’s firm? Or do we think he’s fucking with her? I think the latter.

Carmen was doing exercises to help with migraines, btw.

Carmen calls Diane to tip her off. Diane and Kurt are already asleep, but luckily, Diane has her phone on full volume and takes the call. She’s not happy about it and asks if it can wait until tomorrow. Asks is the wrong word—she instructs the caller to hang up if it can wait.

Even though Carmen can’t say where she got the information, Diane knows it must be from Rivi. Seems obvious enough.

Kurt gets out of bed and starts locking up guns and getting to work; Diane calls Liz. Liz is in bed with a guy we’ve never seen before and she does not really want to talk.

Liz notes that the info also could’ve come from Wolfe-Coleman, since Carmen is “tangled up with some rough characters.”

I’m sorry, fake Netflix CEO man... WHY ARE YOU STILL TRYING TO KISS AND PLAY WITH LIZ WHEN SHE IS ON THE PHONE TALKING ABOUT PURGING FILES AND THE FBI????

I don’t even hold this against the character. This is one of those things the writers of this show LOVE doing to heighten tension. They think people behave like this in real life and that it’s funny to have a million competing priorities at once, so they insist on doing things like this. In reality, I would be concerned about any person who did not hear “FBI” and go, “um, what the hell is happening? I should stop trying to fuck rn.”

Kurt starts burning papers. Is no one going to point out that maybe being on the phone (after you KNOW you’ve had NSA issues) talking about tips from powerful criminals and asking questions that are pretty clearly about document destruction... is a bad strategy?

Dude, why are you STILL GOING after Liz clearly tells you to stop!? Do you want me to hate you?!

Liz adds Jay to the call. He is asleep and also his hallucination from the premiere is (sadly) back. I still don’t get what they’re going for with this, so I’ll just be happy that (1) there is only one hallucination this time and (2) it’s only on screen for a minute.

This dude is really chanting “Let me see ‘em!” at Liz while she is on a frantic work call! This is how we are introduced to him! This is not funny! If this weren’t being played for laughs/to raise the stakes by having a lot going on I would be calling this man misogynistic!

Liz remembers that Diane has full boxes of files! They spill onto the floor as she tries to hide them! Drama!

And then the FBI arrives, so Diane asks Liz to take her 9 am with Wackner

The FBI enters, accompanied by... Nancy Crozier! Nancy is now an AUSA for some reason!

Nancy has graduated from “just a girl from Michigan” to using her pregnancy for dramatic effect. I guess she’s aged into being Patti Nyholm, or something. (I would LOVE to see Patti Nyholm show up on TGF.)

I know the client files are top of mind for Diane, but isn’t it kind of obvious that the FBI would be there about Kurt, given that the FBI was talking to Kurt days earlier?

9 mins in is early for credits!! (This first act flies, too—did not feel like 9 minutes.)

I say this once an episode, but isn’t it so fun to see all the characters from season one of TGW pop up in season five of TGF?

Liz sees her new man, Del Cooper, in reception. He’s a client. They try to be professional with each other. Liz remembers Diane’s 9 am with Wackner and asks the receptionist to tell her when he arrives. She dismissively says it’s “Some judge guy.” Wackner is, of course, already there and watching the interaction with interest. He uses this as an opportunity to “look for the restroom,” observe Liz meeting with someone else, and walk down to the associate floor.

He asks associate Leah (we’ve definitely seen her several times before) where he’s supposed to go for the staff meeting. She asks if he means the partner meeting or the associate one—he wants whichever is more interesting. She says she only knows about the associate meeting, and so he tags along.

Leah and Lucy (the associate from last week; Michael Boatman’s daughter) talk and assume that Wackner is from STR Laurie and thus in charge of the fate of their careers.

The associate meeting is fairly small—Leah refers to it as their “daily” so I wonder if it’s more like a team meeting than a meeting of all the associates.

The COTW is about a comedian who isn’t always PC. FakeNetflix is getting a lot of Twitter pushback.

“Ah, so you’re worried about being cancelled,” Liz notes. “Don’t say the ‘C’ word,” Del jokes. Then he asks the firm to do a sensitivity read of the comedian’s act.

Liz asks why them. David doesn’t get why she’s asking, though obviously Liz knows he won’t be offended by her question since they have a relationship outside of work. Del thinks that RL is the right firm for this task because they are a black firm, and also because this can be an audition for the rest of their legal business.

This seems like it is better for a PR firm or image consultant? Not a law firm? But sure.

Diane explains the whole January 6th situation to Liz. Liz immediately understands that if Kurt is in trouble, Diane is the one representing him. Because Kurt is Kurt, I’m willing to accept the “spouses-representing-each-other" trope here. But let the record reflect that, as always on this show, it is a TERRIBLE idea to have your spouse represent you! Just pick someone outside of the firm! JUST PICK ELSBETH, KURT.

Diane asks how her 9 am went; David Lee interrupts to ask Liz why she is being so casual with Del. “David, I am on the phone,” Liz responds. I love that she doesn’t really answer him.

Leah and Lucy try to turn the associate meeting into a showcase of how great they are; the other associates catch on quickly and all are happy to answer Wackner’s questions. He wants to understand jury trials.

Nancy’s pregnancy act does not work on Judge Farley, yet she keeps it up anyway. Court doesn’t go well for Diane, but it also doesn’t go well for Nancy.

Some of these interactions remind me a little too much of Peter’s trial at the end of TGW, like this one where Nancy goes to Diane with information about Kurt.

Leah gets off the elevator as Diane and Nancy talk, and to Diane’s surprise, Wackner is shadowing Leah! She takes a moment to look surprised before we return to the scene with Nancy.

I like all the little interactions within this Wackner plot. Diane asking Liz to meet with Wackner both connects Wackner to Liz AND shows that Diane would turn to Liz for back-up, and having Wackner/Leah run into Diane in court is a good reminder that even though Diane is dealing with a pressing issue, Wackner hasn’t just disappeared.

Diane encourages Kurt to talk. She wants to know if he’s not telling her something because she’s his wife or because she’s his lawyer. This is maybe why you don’t hire your wife as your lawyer.

Kurt says it’s because of politics—Diane doesn’t like that, since this is one issue where their politics should be shared.

“Diane, this works between us because we don’t let our political judgements overwhelm our respect for each other,” Kurt explains. But... is that relevant to this particular issue?

Diane asks the same question, essentially, noting that January 6th changed “everything” for her and she can’t treat this like a “chess game” anymore. Kurt wants to know what she’s calling a chess game. She says their marriage is the one thing that’s not a game.

On one level I understand exactly what Diane is saying and on another level I have no clue what this dialogue actually means. She can’t treat things like a game anymore, but also their marriage is the only thing that isn’t a game? So does that mean she can treat everything else like a game, then? I think what she’s trying to say is that the time for seeing political disagreements as a calm and rational game of strategy is over, and that she values her marriage and won’t play around with it.

Kurt tells her what he burned—a list of people in his little group. He says he’d protect them just like he’d protect Diane’s book group friends. Oh, wow, I was not EVER expecting to hear about that arc again! This is a pretty perfect time to mention it, though, since Kurt DID protect book group for the exact same reason he’s protecting the members of his club.

Other than “winning over a new client is important,” I have no idea why Liz and David Lee would gather together a group of partners to do the sensitivity read. I don’t know who IS the appropriate person to do the sensitivity read, given that this is a law firm, but I know this is a bad call.

Oh, they are going to go through line by line dissecting each joke in a group. They get through one joke before Madeline notes that the comedian is “objectifying black men.” A black male partner says he doesn’t mind. Madeline says that doesn’t matter because the joke is racially insensitive.

Overlapping chatter ensues, and the partners try to make changes to the comedian’s jokes, like substituting Norwegian for Nigerian. This... is not what law firms do. The joke isn’t funny with the substitution, but it also wasn’t funny before. It was low hanging fruit and the correct answer is to just cut it entirely. (Also, if you’re a comedian and all your jokes are about common stereotypes of groups to which you do not belong, you are probably not a very funny comedian!)

Diane has Jay do some more investigating. Jay looks up when Diane says, “ringleader of the insurrectionists,” and Diane is just like, “I know.” Then Carmen walks in.

Diane congratulates Carmen on “hitting the ground running” and then asks again how she knew about the warrant. Diane says she’s covered by the same attorney-client privilege, so Carmen should be able to share. Carmen notes the warrant was actually about Kurt, which does not answer Diane’s question. “So this came from Rivi?” Diane asks. Carmen says she can’t confirm.

“Carmen. You have been here three weeks. You have two clients: Wolfe-Coleman and Oscar Rivi. It’s one or the other!” Diane notes. Yep. I love that they didn’t forget that this isn’t much of a mystery. It’s more about principle than anything. If Diane knows it’s one of two sources and needs more information, I’m sure Jay can figure it out.

Carmen knows she’s stuck, so she asks if she can make a phone call. “I think that would be smart,” Diane says.

I’ve noticed that Liz and Diane are both being quite firm with others this season—and I like it. They're spending more time with lower-level characters, and both Diane and Liz have reasons to be more curt this year. Diane is under a lot of stress and it’s showing in all of her interactions; Liz is making a point of seeming in control to establish herself as the leader of the firm.

Then Marissa walks in. “What is going on with your crazy court judge?” Diane asks. “My?” Marissa asks. “Marissa, I am in no mood for defensiveness,” Diane insists. She mentions Wackner missing his meeting and shadowing Leah. That’s news to Marissa.

Marissa heads to Wackner’s court to figure out what’s going on.

Wackner is now experimenting with juries. This is interesting to me—I'd wondered before how smart it was to just have Wackner make all the rulings, so exploring the idea of having a jury shows he’s thinking about that, too. Also, it’s another sign that Wackner wants his court to have many of the same structures as a real courtroom. There are still judges, juries, witnesses, trials—he's starting something new, but it feels more like he’s testing out improvements for an imperfect system. I wonder if his end goal would be to set up separate courts, or if he’s more interested in shaping laws/reforming the system? Surely Wackner has ambitions of scaling up whatever conclusions he comes to. So what are they?

The reason for the juries is that the associates told him that juries are racially biased, so he’s trying to correct it. He also explains how he ended up shadowing Leah, and advises Marissa to go exploring whenever she’s kept waiting. (I have a feeling Marissa doesn’t need to be told this, but then, that’s why she’s Wackner’s “muse.”)

Marissa notes that Wackner’s court is looking nicer—there must be money coming in from somewhere new. Wackner confirms there’s been a sympathetic donor.

Wackner is dealing with a case about NFT fraud. Marissa says she doesn’t know what that is. I’m going to assume that Marissa is using Wackner’s strategies against him (she had just accused him of playing dumb to get others to talk) because I cannot believe that Marissa, who always knows random facts, ESPECIALLY ones that involve weird corners of the internet, would not know what an NFT is.

Marissa hears the case is about $4 million, and she’s shocked because this raises the stakes a little more than even she is comfortable with. Wackner has a signed and notarized document saying that both sides will honor the verdict. It is, as Marissa points out, notarized in 9 ¾ court by Wackner about a fictional case. “About a fictional crime,” Wackner adds on.

I’m a little surprised this is all these writers had to say about NFTs! Maybe they knew that by the time this aired, the actual topic would feel dated.

Mandy Patinkin is just SO GOOD as Wackner! I’m watching a fictional show about a fictional crime in a fictional court and even I am starting to believe in his ludicrous court!

Wackner’s jury selection process involves catching potential jurors in traps, like pretending to know the national anthem when they don’t. Smart. Probably super problematic if you think about it too hard and put it in the wrong people’s hands and people start to know the system. But smart, for now.

Diane is now in the sensitivity read meeting, for reasons passing understanding. They are still talking about the first joke. Jay calls Liz out of the meeting and notes that everyone in the room is old and no one is funny. “I’m funny!” Liz argues. Diane tries to leave the meeting, and Liz tells Diane Jay’s idea about needing younger people. “Oh god yes,” Diane agrees. I’m glad she sees it and a little alarmed that Liz doesn’t! I feel like they should’ve sent the tape to everyone interested in participating, then asked them to write up (separately) anything they found questionable or offensive, and gone from there, ending with a close review of anything that wasn’t previously flagged. If you debate every single line for hours you’re going to get nowhere.

I don’t know why Liz is so concerned that Jay thinks she’s not funny? But she is.

Diane asks Liz to join her meeting with Carmen and Lester. This is a scene I’ve been waiting for! Diane and Liz are both there and so the scene FEELS important. The plot advances. And, most importantly, they address why Carmen is staying at RL!

Lester reiterates that Carmen is super important to Rivi, so if Carmen says she can’t share info, then she can’t share info. Liz and Diane do not accept this. “I am a name partner. Carmen is a first-year associate,” Liz says. “Now, Carmen is free to resign and hang her shingle wherever she’d like. She can even go and work for you. That is up to her. But while she is here, she is subject to the rules and the mentoring of this firm.”

Lester tries to take Carmen out of the meeting. Liz and Diane won’t let him: They need to know if Carmen is staying with the firm, now.

“You have a lot to learn, Carmen. And you can only do that here,” Diane pitches. I don’t think that’s exactly true, but it’s not untrue.

Here is a question I have about Carmen: she is WILLING to represent drug dealers and rapists. Does she WANT to? She chooses RL, so I’m guessing her interests lie in big law and not in aiding criminals.

Lester leaves, but not before saying Kurt is about to get a grand jury summons. Diane gets one too. It’s not the usual guy! Too bad.

A bigger group is now deciding on if jokes are offensive or not, and they’re doing so with paddles that are red on one side (offensive) and green on the other (funny). I’m sure this is going to go well.

The group sees the replacement jokes and they are confused. Marissa wants to see the original joke. Julius shows the room, and everyone laughs. The joke is funny—and offensive. Someone from the mail room notes that he would be the butt of this joke, but he finds it funny, so he thinks the comedian should be able to continue with her set.

Here is where I think I fall on this: Get sensitivity reads to get ahead of any huge issues (like, don’t be Pepsi with the ad with whichever Jenner it was who solved racism). Be aware of the potential issues. Let viewers decide what is and isn’t offensive, and make informed decisions rather than arbitrary rules about what content to show. You’ll KNOW if you are indulging the tendencies of someone with a history of making the same type of problematic jokes (for example, maybe if you are reviewing something by Tina Fey and she tries to write another edgy plot where racial stereotypes are the punchline, you advise her to not do that because, I mean, why WERE there so many episodes of 30 Rock that involved blackface??). You’ll KNOW if you are giving a platform to someone who is actively trying to spread misinformation and be cruel to others. Someone’s going to be offended by everything, and it may be a huge deal and it may not be. IMO, it doesn’t really matter that I can’t make an exact set of rules about what is/isn’t smart to air. I don’t think anyone—not networks, not creators, and not audiences—would benefit from that. Lawyers might, though, for all the billable hours...

“You can’t tell a joke without offending someone,” Jay notes. I do not think this is true! Puns don’t offend anyone!

David Lee’s counter-example to Jay’s point is Gilbert & Sullivan. Of course it is.

As always, the argument devolves into overlapping chatter. These episodes exhaust me. At least this episode has some fun with the topic of the week and seems to have more of a point of view than some of the past episodes where the only conclusion is, “Wow! Controversy is controversial!”

Marissa ends up in the mail room with Jay and one of the mailroom guys (captions say his name is Jimmy). They are mocking the partner’s ideas of comedy. Jay and Jimmy agree that the best comedy is mean. But, Jay says, now it feels like you need “a permission slip to tell a joke.” Is... this true? This feels like one of those things people who would never actually get “cancelled” worry about because their fear overtakes their ability to understand what really gets someone cancelled.

Then again, this episode was written by professional writers who would absolutely know better than I am if people are really hesitant to tell jokes.

Jimmy has started making literal permission slips to allow people to tell jokes about specific groups. Jay and Marissa are down.

Jay asks Jimmy to make a card for something so inappropriate he wouldn’t joke about it... and Jimmy prints a card that says Greta Thunberg. No one wants to joke about that.

And you know why this joke lands well for me? Part of it is that the vibe of this scene is very fun and laid back. But mostly it’s because Younger tried to make a Greta Thunberg joke this season, and it was quite possibly the worst, most embarrassing thing I’ve seen a TV show do in ages. It wasn’t funny, just mean, over the top, lazy, and never-ending. (Poor Younger. That show had an awful final season.)

Liz is still worried she’s not funny. She asks Del if she’s funny and mentions Jay’s comment. He says she’s funny, but she’s not convinced he’s being honest. He points out this is a discussion no one will win. Del ends up accidentally saying “I love you” to Liz, which is a big deal for a relationship we’ve seen for all of two seconds. Liz says they don’t have to talk about it, but Del insists on explaining that he meant “affection,” not love. I’m glad they’re talking about this.

“Then maybe we should get married,” Liz says as seriously as possible. She stares at Del and smiles. He laughs and admits that was funny. It was VERY funny!

Grand jury time! Yet Another Ham Sandwich: The Sequel: The Musical: The Series. (Am I funny? Pls tell me I’m funny and hip with the teens!)

It’s Diane’s turn first. She does well, but there’s not much to say when Nancy plays the recording of Diane phoning the FBI with the rioter’s name. I did not need the clip from last episode in here. Diane is calm in court, but rushes to tell Kurt immediately. Nancy predicted Diane would do that, so she calls in Kurt before Diane has a chance to warn him.

So, wait, Kurt thought all of this was just a COINCIDENCE? Diane didn’t tell him earlier?! I don’t love this choice, but okay.

Liz finds a joke permission slip on her desk. Julius has one too. “Did you use it?” Liz asks. Julius doesn’t understand what that even means. Then they trade clothes, because Liz does want to tell a joke about white girl clothes.

Julius suspects the cards are a way to make fun of the partners for being unfunny. The associates are also chatting about the cards, having lots of fun, so it’s clearly not about the partners.

I think now is an appropriate time to mention that TGW and TGF have both been consistently hilarious shows and have been on the air for a combined twelve years. Neither rely on the types of jokes that these cards permit. This is a kind of interesting thought experiment, but... doesn’t it say something that the shows never use these jokes as crutches and still manage to be funny? This is what I meant earlier about people being afraid of cancel culture when they’re not actually really at risk of coming under fire. These writers know how to write things that are funny. They know how to make comedy out of absurdity and subverting expectations. And yet they’re worried about how to have jokes that aren’t mean? Really?

The first laugh out loud funny TGW moment that comes to mind right now is the episode that ends with that obnoxious talk show guy trying to out Diane as a lesbian. That joke deals with identity. But it still holds up 12 years later, because the joke isn’t that Diane could be gay... the joke is that Diane DOES NOT GIVE A SHIT what this pest is saying about her on TV, and so she laughs. And because the tension of the talk show guy’s BIG DRAMATIC REVEAL is cut with Diane’s dynamic, loud laugh, we laugh with her! I’m not really sure what I'm trying to illustrate with this example. I’m just noting that you can be topical, funny, and entirely appropriate at the same time... and these writers are great at finding that balance.

HR starts, like, texting (they TEXT Marissa!!!) employees about the joke permission slips? It’s so bizarrely done that I thought this was going to be a prank.

Jay decides they won’t go to HR, and Jimmy decides they’ll delay. Why wouldn’t HR just come down and take away the cards?

For this week’s dose of Wackner Wackiness, witnesses will be fully costumed, and it goes without saying that the costumes will be as over the top as possible.

David Cord is the mysterious donor. Marissa spots him and instantly puts the pieces together. Cord explains he met Wackner on the elevator. I can’t say enough how much I like that this season has a lot of moving pieces that feel like part of a whole. Cord showed up as part of a case that caused internal debate at the firm and had a thematic parallel to an ongoing plot, then crossed over into Wackner’s plot once he was established as a character!

Cord says he’s interested in “disrupting things” so he’s interested in Wackner. I did not need the still photo of where they founded HP that’s used to illustrate humble beginnings, I guess.

Nancy mentions Kurt’s unfortunate last name—she so would. Kurt takes the fifth. Was this thing about needing a reason to take the fifth true in the earlier seasons and just not mentioned? Didn’t Kalinda and Will use this strategy?

Nancy, obviously, plays the recording of Diane reporting the rioter. Kurt conceals his reaction for the grand jury, but he’s pissed.

Diane tries to apologize and Kurt asks for another lawyer. This is the right move. I can’t be all that sad.

The partners have collected all the cards and are trying to do damage control with HR. (Interestingly, there are certain topics the cards we see don’t touch on. Like, where’s the rape joke card? Aren’t rape jokes what we usually talk about when we talk about comedians getting cancelled? And where are the jokes about minority groups (aside from little people, referred to using the PC name instead of the names that would probably be used in most offensive jokes about little people) not represented in the TGF cast? I find this little bit of self-censorship quite notable, especially given that the writers seem to be arguing in favor of not regulating humor. These omissions, which MUST be intentional, tell me the writers do have their own lines they won’t cross...)

(My larger point there, and where this funny-but-unnecessary subplot fails for me, is that this whole episode feels like a bit of a panic over cancel culture and winds up being a strawman argument. I don’t disagree with the conclusions the writers come to and I do find some of these scenes funny. But at the same time, I don’t think Cancel Culture is actually about coming after every single joke that makes fun of any person or group (if we must do a cancel culture plot, why not do one about someone who is an odious person and yet still has a following even after they’ve been “cancelled”). And I don’t think that showing HR as a very stern, strict, humorless body is helpful. I’m getting ahead of myself, but all that accomplishes is having Liz win on a point that pretty much everyone can agree on, because no one is actually as humorless as STRL’s HR department! Humor has so many gray areas and if you try to make it black and white, obviously the side that’s saying YOU CANNOT MAKE JOKES ABOUT ANYTHING is going to be the one that is wrong.

I did just remember that all of these writers have probably dealt with unfun and strict standards & practices departments, and I like the way HR is portrayed more if I try to imagine them as Standards & Practices.

Liz decides she is going to see HR so she’s seen as an authority figure, not someone subversive. But first, Liz has to meet with Del and the comedian.

Wackner and Cord are in Diane’s office. Diane’s skeptical of their alliance. She also points out that it is corrupt for Wackner to be financed by Cord and decide on Cord’s cases. This is true. Cord says he has no vested interest in any of the cases. And Wackner says he’s the “most untouchable man on earth” and quotes a song again. Yet another example of how this court only works if Wackner is in charge.

The comedy meeting does not go well. David Lee is already trying to pitch their other servicces. The comedian finds the censored version hilarious in how terrible it is, and then she starts making fun of it, loudly, and for way too long.

David thinks it went poorly; Liz isn’t concerned. David is all, “you failed” and Liz asks him to cool it and notes that David isn’t the highest-ranking person at STRL, so he should “stop the shit” and work with her. She’s already sounding more like a boss.

Julius complements her on being “Boseman-like,” which is true (though I wish she didn’t need to be compared to her ex-husband). “I know,” Liz says quietly, likely because she hates that Adrian is still influencing her this much.

Del joins Wackner and Cord in the elevator, and this isn’t the end of the episode but I’m going to pretend it is so all the episodes can end on elevators this year. It’s close enough.

Kurt’s new lawyer is Julius. Ah, yes, choose the corrupt judge Trump pardoned who works at your wife’s firm to represent you. Seems smart.

Liz walks past Diane’s office and the camera follows her up to HR. She tries to get HR to understand humor. They do not. And that’s the episode.

So, a few thoughts to conclude. First, I went into this recap thinking I’d have a lot more to say about cancel culture and the way this episode handled the debate. But I ended up liking this plot—and this episode-- more the second time around. I still don’t think this episode said anything groundbreaking about cancel culture, because I don’t think it actually engaged with the topic beyond the surface. As I noted earlier, coming to the conclusion that jokes should be allowed because we’re all human isn’t really a resolution the real topic. What about accountability? What about allowing for some jokes to be too far without taking the teeth out of every joke? What about the way people panic over cancel culture when they’re not being canceled (this episode felt a little bit like a panic over cancel culture, which is why I reacted negatively to it the first time through) or about how cancellation doesn’t always stick or have meaning? There is SOMETHING to explore here, but I don’t think this episode found that something.

Second, because I didn’t find a way to work it in above... is it me, or is it actually HELPING the show to not have Adrian or Lucca around!? This season feels so much more focused than the past several, and I think it might be because the writers (who are, as always, very good at adapting to curveballs) had to restructure the show. Lucca always had her own subplots that were separate from everything else, and Adrian’s charisma tended to overpower others’ presence (especially Liz’s) whenever he was in the room. It didn’t help that the writers seemed to LOVE writing Adrian plots, even if it meant neglecting others.

Don’t get me wrong—I love Adrian and Lucca both. But there’s something to be said for a tighter show with three main interconnected pieces (Liz/firm drama, Diane/FBI and Kurt, Marissa/Wackner’s court) that carry over from episode to episode. Like the titles of the season, these episodes build on each other.

Also, there’s the right amount of every character this season. David Lee is used sparingly; Jay and Julius are supporting players who sometimes get the spotlight; Wackner is a huge presence but his plot feels like part of the show; Carmen feels important but isn’t being given screentime for the sake of screentime; Liz is finally the type of lead she should’ve been from the start; Marissa has nicely grown into a role closer to leading than supporting; Diane remains a clear lead.

5x05 next week!!! I am expecting some Hitting the Fan level quality and at least one fan-service-y reference. (Not really, but wouldn’t it be fun?)

#tgfthoughts #the good fight

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join-the-joywrite · 4 years

Text

If we got each other, and that's all we have

@jatp-week Day 3: favourite ship

Three times Luke cheered Julie up and the one time she cheered him up.

1. I am going to sit here and talk until you smile.

Julie missed her mom a lot. Even now, with music back in her life, it still sometimes got too much to handle and she would want to curl up in bed and stay there for the whole day. She tried not to. There were people that wanted to see her, school that needed her attention and above all, her family deserved to be around her. Maybe she didn't have to always be all smiles, but she couldn't hide from everyone.

But some days she so desperately wanted to.

And on those days, she stayed curled up in her bed until someone came to get her.

If it happened during the week, Ray would try to get Julie up for school. Most days, she relented at the thought of having to deal with missing her mom and extra homework. But he never forced her to go if he thought she wasn't going to be able to handle it. If it was the weekend, Ray would let Julie stay up in her room well into the day without interruptions for anything other than breakfast and a suggestion to perhaps hit the shower and see how she felt after that.

So, on this bright and early Saturday morning, Julie refused to get out of bed for the first time since meeting the boys and it was beginning to worry them.

Luke was absolutely terrible at dealing with feelings. It wasn't a secret among them. But Luke also had a special bond with Julie and that wasn't a secret either. With that in mind, Alex and Reggie shared just one glance before leaving Luke alone with Julie.

At first, he'd been quiet and calm, talking to the bundle of bedsheets in the middle. He told Julie every story he could thing of, some about the band, some about himself, some about baby Luke that he had heard from his parents. Then, for a while, he talked about his parents.

Slowly, the duvet inched back until Julie's face could be seen, then her head, then up to her shoulders.

The baby stories seemed to interest Julie most, so Luke did his best to recall everything he knew. He fully planned on sitting at the edge of Julie's bed and talking forever, but as she began to smile, he had to stop and take a moment. Julie's smile was everything. It almost seemed to brighten the whole room.

"Don't stop."

And even though she wasn't an upset little mess of tears and bedsheets anymore, Luke dutifully continued, if only to keep that radiant smile on her face. They spent the rest of the weekend writing music together.

2. When words don't cut it, music will do

The next time Julie was inconsolable, it was in the studio. It had something to do with a mix of missing Carrie and missing her mom and worrying about even being good enough for her spotlight.

They were pulling together a song when Julie stumbled into the studio. She'd looked at them with wide eyes before informing them that she would be hiding from her brother and father in the loft.

Reggie suddenly decided he wanted to take a walk on the beach and Alex said Reggie needed a babysitter.

For a moment, there was silence in the studio. Then a horrible smash of keys on the piano and loud, terrible, off-key singing.

Julie forgot to be sad almost immediately and stormed down the steps to glare at the boy behind the piano. Luke only grinned and pointed out that Julie had left the loft. When her rage receded, Julie was left with her earlier sadness. She didn't even know what made her so miserable, but she just wanted to be alone. So she went back up to the loft.

Luke wasn't having any of it. He tapped all the wrong keys and screamed, "HEY, JULIE! DON'T MAKE IT BAAAAAAAAD. JUST TAKE A SAAAAD SONG . . . AND MAKE IT BETTERRRR. HEY, JULIE!"

To which Julie had quickly yelled from the loft, "Its hey, JUDE!"

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you from all the way up there. You'll have to come down here and teach the song to me."

When Julie didn't, Luke started up his antics with a different song. "HEY THERE JULIE WHAT'S IT LIKE IN SADNESS CITY--"

He didn't get to finish that one because Julie stormed down and glared at him. He shifted to one side of the bench and patted it, waiting for Julie to join him.

They didn't sit too close, lest they remind each other that Luke was a ghost, but they sat together and as Julie tapped different keys lightly, Luke talked about how much he loved music. None of the stories seemed to catch Julie's attention enough to lift her spirits, so Luke brought his notebook and suggested they adapt whichever song Julie wanted.

They sat for hours with the notebook and the piano and by the end of it all, Julie was smiling again and honestly, Luke couldn't ask for anything else.

3. I am a gift.

Julie was sketching away her foul mood when her phone buzzed. The text was from Carlos, but Julie could hear the shower still running. It wasn't Ray because she could hear the sounds of Ray cooking something in the kitchen. So, which one of her phantoms were playing with her brother's phone?

I heard you were sad so I left you a gift in the studio.

Julie looked around, hoping to see one or all of them watching for her reaction. You don't have any money to buy gifts.

I paid for this with my pride and dignity.

Julie almost laughed aloud at that. Instead, an amused snort escaped her. I'm on my way.

When Julie got to the studio, it looked empty. It was also very silent. Then she flipped the lights on and was met with a fairly large box just sitting on the floor, unattended. Confused and amused, Julie inched towards it and gingerly folded the flaps over.

"I am a gift," Luke said as he looked up at Julie from inside the box. "Please don't tell Carlos I stole his phone. He already thinks you're being haunted."

Julie couldn't contain the laughter that bubbled out of her. Luke was absolutely ridiculous, but he never failed to brighten Julie's day. When the laughter subsided, Julie couldn't remember what she was upset about.

Bonus: and I'll hold your hand (you should know I'll be there for you)

Julie found him at his parent's house. When he noticed her through the glass doors, he poofed from the countertop to beside her.

She said she was worried about him, that's why she was looking for him. He said he just needed a moment. They almost ceased to exist two nights ago. He just wanted to see his parents again.

Julie didn't talk about her mom often. She talked about her mom's music and about how much she loved and missed her mom, but she didn't talk about her mom often.

Luke needed distracting, Julie could tell. So she swallowed her pain and started talking. She told Luke about the way her mom would sing off-key when she thought she was alone in the studio. She told Luke about the way her mom would scream lyrics at the top of her lungs when she couldn't get the melody down.

And she told Luke about the way her mom was a disaster in the kitchen for everything but box cakes. She told Luke about the way her mom screamed at the TV if things weren't going her way. She told Luke about her mother only discovering an allergy at thirty-eight because she'd somehow never eaten any anything with sesame seeds before them.

And when they realised they were walking away from the Patterson house, Julie held her hand out for Luke. "Come on, let's go home."

And Luke, forgetting entirely what anything other than pure bliss felt like, gripped Julie's hand and squeezed once. "Yeah. Home."

Mara's masterlist

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #julie and the himbos #jatp #juke #julie molina #luke patterson #jatpweek #day 3

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