#i have SO many of these so um this is gonna be an ongoing series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waterhorseyblues-ao3 · 1 year

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WHB’s Ever-Growing List of Comic Recommendations

I am SICK and TIRED of people saying they’re not into comics!!! You could be!!! You just read a Captain America comic one time and realised it kinda sucked!!!! It probably did!!!!!! There’s other comics!!!!!!!!!

In fact I am intentionally NOT going to include DC or Marvel in this list because there’s so fuckin many of them dude. That’s gonna be a different list entirely.

Anyway I’m gonna break this up into segments as best I can and hope I remember all the amazing works I’ve read over the years. This is also only a light sprinkling of things I’ve read that I think are good starting points. If you ejoyed something and want more like it, or are more interested in one type of comic than another, I’ll happily give you more options.

If you’d like any info about how/where to read these comics just DM me and I’ll happily answer any questions.

Western Industry-Published Comics:

Tank Girl - I fucking love Tank Girl. I have a HUGE collection of Tank Girl comics. 1, 2 and 3 have NOT aged well, but Tank Girl was very much a symbol of counter-culture and was used as an icon for protests against Section 28 and the Thatcher regime. Crass, violent, scruffy and extremely punk. The upside is, you can pick just ONE TG title and read only that. She’s been passed around a few different publication companies and been handled by a variety of writers, so the themes and values of the comics are quite broad. My personal favourite is Visions of Booga.

The Ballad of Halo Jones (cancelled) - oh my GODD this COMIC. A 2000 AD genstone. The tragedy of Halo Jones is that the comics got cancelled due to a dispute with her creators and the company. Alan Moore at his absolute finest, creating the most elaborate sci-fi world with really great characters. Every day I morn that only 3 of 9 volumes were ever made.

Saga (ongoing) - o, um, you’re NOT reading Saga? cringe... Jokes aside, Saga published by Image Comics is fantastic. This immense space fantasy follows an inter-species family escaping the war that separates their people. The art is great, the characters are wonderful, the world building is fantastic, it’s so, so immersive. Sex, drugs, and violence abound. An epic space-opera for adult readers. Dude, c’mon, just read it smh

The Pride - This started small and indie but was picked up by Dark Horse. Joe Glass’ response to the lack of representation in Marvel and DC comics. A superhero series where all the characters are out-and-proud queer and fight against queerphobia and oppression, with very blunt explorations of hate crime, AIDS, and inter-community issues. Loveable characters and great art.

Scott Pilgrim VS The World - YEAH I’LL DO IT, I’LL REC SCOTT PILGRIM. I genuinely loved these comics as a teenager, they felt so cool and funny and fresh and dynamic. They were everything I wanted my life to be. Ultimate geeky dorky comic.

Jem and the Holograms - you remember that cartoon? well the comics go hard. VERY cool rock sci-fi, great new takes on the characters, queer as hell, very fun. definitely aimed at bringing more Jem content to fans who have grown up and want something a little more intense.

Persepolis - I’ve only just started reading this. It’s a memoir of the cultural shift in Iran and it’s very real and down-to-earth. Incidentally this is a Banned Book, so obviously that is why I recommend you read it. Incidentally quite a few comics about politics and identity have been banned around the world, so I suggest finding a list of them and reading through all of them as soon as you can.

World of Warcraft: Deathknight - not gonna dress this one up. it’s the manga about Koltira and Thassarian. I legit think the WoW lore comics and books are good. I want these two to kiss.

Japanese Manga:

Death Note - oh my god. dude. just read it. or watch it. i don’t care. this is a cultural ICON. this blew my MIND. the character tensions and dynamics, the long-term planning and payoff, the plot twists, the characters, it’s amazing.

Full Metal Alchemist - this should go without saying. i don’t think either anime really successfully adapted the manga. a very in-depth war-time fantasy with brilliant characters, so many plotlines and complex socio-political issues, a huge cast of different types of characters. It has the RANGE.

Uzumaki - I generally recommend Junji Itou’s work anyway, and tend to prefer his shorter stuff, but this particular horror series is so iconic and has some incredible artwork and imagery that just stays with you forever. Personally not a huge fan of the ending but it is very his style.

Shaman King - this aged both very badly and very well, somehow. the mix of traditional shaman practices from around the world, as well as the use of mythology and folk tales to pad out this urban fantasy, is very engaging and interesting. The characters are all from very different walks of life and it’s so easy to get attached to them. the anime adaptions didn’t quite capture the sheer intensity of this story and while it very much is a shonen, it has so much else going for it that really makes it such a unique gem of a series.

Black Butler (ongoing) - oh my god PLEASE read Black Butler. don’t bother with the anime. ignore that. you THINK this is gonna be a fanservicey series about fancy boys and demons but it’s NOT. it’s about TRAUMA and CORRUPTION and SECRET SOCETIES and PLOTS and it is getting better and better and better with each chapter. the artwork is gorgeous and the characters went from archetypes to really complex and fleshed out with individual backstories and I love them all dearly. this series has made me cry.

Saint Young Men (ongoing) - Jesus and Buddha are roommates in modern-day Japan. It’s a very fun and easy slice-of-life that takes a teasing but respectful angle on the two faiths and is just so wholesome. Was a big meme a few years ago.

The Way of the House Husband (ongoing) - you’ve seen this manga about. an ex-Yakuza becomes a house-husband to a working wife who loves magical girl anime. Slice-of-life with some of the most intense artwork and hilarious dynamics.

Skull Faced Book Seller Honda-San - a non-fiction account of a bookseller and the various customers they encounter. Very funny and truthful and easy to read.

The Two Of Them Are Pretty Much Like This (ongoing) - Slice-of-life lesbian romance with an age gap. The two must carefully balance their professional and private life, and navigate where they can and can’t be open about their relationship.

Yokohama Kaidashi Kikō / Quiet Country Café - scifi future post-environmental-apocalypse slice-of-life about an android who runs a café and the various people she meets and the strange world around her. Perfect for fans of Ghibli films.

Independent Comics

Emily Is Burning - Honestly I rec most of Steph Seed’s work, her limited use of dialogue and impressionistic-style artwork lends itself so well to the weird horror stories she creates

NPC Tea (ongoing) - urban fantasy story about D&D type characters who run a tea shop, but must also deal with a dangerous power that threatens to destroy everything.

The Miracles - from the same creator as The Pride, this is another superhero story that focuses more on alternate universes, coming of ages, secrets and deception.

WebToons and Web Comics:

Homestuck - fuck you. yeah im recommending Homestuck. it’s GOOD okay? it’s innovative and complex and deep and hilarious and weird and imaginative and it’s everything. there’s a BUNCH of lets-reads online to make it easier for you and loads of dubs and helpful guides to navigate it. It’s fucking good okay. shut up.

Ava’s Demon (ongoing) - gorgeous art, really cool space fantasy, loveable chaacters, animated sequences, I could go on. It’s a slow, slow update because of the sheer quality of the artwork that goes into it.

Lackadaisy (ongoing) - another absolute banger of artwork and detail. set in probation era about an underground bar, the goofy and eccentric characters get in violent fights, tangle with the law, and get up to be questionable and extremely illegal hijinks to keep their bar going as the business starts to wane. Updates are on hold while the creators work on an ACTUAL ANIMATED MOVIE for it.

Heartstopper (ongoing)- YEAH IM GAY. WHAT OF IT. I LOVE this gushy, mushy, sweet little comic about theseschool boys in love!!! This is a webcomic but has been officially published into paper books. The show is lovely and captures it well but the series is much further on than the show is. I genuinely hope it’s making life of queer teens easier!!! Because god damn it was bad when I was growing up!!!!

Mage and the Demon Queen (ongoing) - beautiful WebToon set in an RPG style fantasy world where a young mage falls in love with the enemy of her people, Demon Queen Velverosa. Adventure romance with a lot more happening than it first lets on.

Carciphona - Very elaborate and stunning fantasy series about magic, war, uprisings and mysterious backstories. Engaging character dynamics and intrigue throughout. The spin-off slice-of-life romance series Amongst Us is also worth a read.

Ruby Quest - you are not ready for this. Using the characters of Animal Crossing and an incredibly simplistic artstyle, this sci-fi horror used reader-input choices to navigate the world and storyline. A mix of rpg-style reading, animated panels and single-panel storytelling create immense amounts of tension and clever use of detail in the right places adds to the horror element. It’s spiritual successor, Nan Quest, is also very recommended.

#comic #manga #webcomic #webtoon #recommend #rec list #theres so many more i havent listed lmao #not to mention the length of my to-read list

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notebooknonbinary · 1 year

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Tagged by the v supercool @bylertruther thank u☺️ (sorry this took me a hot minute, tumblr wouldn't let me do bullet points on mobile)

Tagging: anyone who wants to do it!! Mutuals and followers please feel free I’d love to see!!

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Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips. I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? Dnd campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!

---

Haaaha so, the problem is…unless there’s enough fic for me to justify a separate doc to myself, half my WIPs are under shit like [fandom] stuffff or, worse, Untitled Document. On the other hand, some stuff I get optimistic and title properly. My big problem is, I'm pretty okay at ideas--but V terrible at follow through. So um Ymmv

Anyway im gonna base this on whether there’s even a 1% chance I’ll come back to the WIPs for even a second bc otherwise we’d be here all day, I got stuff from 2011 in my docs and I’d literally rather dunk myself in a pool of hot oil than touch those (I haven’t gotten around to deleting them yet shut)

The WIPs I’m Currently Working On:

HS and College AU Part 1–All the Time in the World Draft 2 hey if anyone would like to beta for this btw i'm Big struggling w it atm lmaooo

HS and College AU Part 2: Ro—Name Redacted for Spoiler reasons

Stranger Things fic bits (has future stuff for^^^^)

Stranger things ideas idk (mostly headcanons and plot stuff that isn’t actually fic, and like research and stuff)

Stranger Things Post Series College AU Rough TL (above fic’s timeline^^)

ST react (BIG cringe and Never to be posted. Work on just for fun)

WIPs I Want and Need to Come Back to lmao:

Newsies fanfic (Draft Ver. 3) (my giant 18k baby that I probably will never get back to)

North to Alaska (Fo4)

This is Not a TT Story Chapter 6 (and 7, 8, and 9😭)***Esp! This one

Everything Else lmao:

Untitled Document (like five or six of these lmao)

Merlin stuffff

Atla

Mystmess fic????

Fma idea

ME Fo4 cover

i don’t know wtf this is let will be outwardly gay cowards (not as interesting as the title suggests lmao)

Five to Travel PJO/HoO/ToA

LiS2 Timetravel Alt Uni Timeline (Complete outline for the above fic rgjsoiwrj)

LiS2 xover w Coco? (Indulgent and never to be posted prob)

Life Is Strange, Tell Me Why fic idea?

TJM fic Chapter 10-?

GR F AUs

GO fic ideas

YOI fic ideas

bits and pieces of fic ideas for ha and JN (u do Not want to open this curiosity door very cringe😔)

Tarsus IV sequel(s) planner (I still kind of want to go back and write a sequel to this it was my baby and one of the only chapter fics I ever completed)

BMC DEH fic bits

dcmk story ideas (mostly just AUs where Ran is in the know bc f u gosho)

And my two most cringe but lovingly researched WIPs that will likely never be finished:

Cablepool Fix-it fic (Seriously Nate, you were fixing his brain and you didn't see the brainwashing wtaf) <- whole title 😌 this bs was 7k

helga foster story ongoing

#tag game #vee attempts to write #vee attempts to articulate their thoughts #So Many of these are P Cringe #but at least its only whats on my google docs. i stopped using Word two computers ago #i've been havin kind of a bad week so i was happy to get the tag thank u:)#long post #was tempted to put this under a readmore and if people ask me to i'll go back and edit it in #kiiiind of worried people who followed my ancient HA blog might be able to find me #from this post but #hi welcome to my blog I’m cringe #i will chat about this stuff if anyone wants to..

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haitaniplug · 2 years

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CLASS PROJECT || CHAPTER 4

summary - you really want to go abroad for the summer, but your grades fucking SUCK, so your parents won’t allow you to until you get them up. you were so ready to focus on the rest of the year until you get partnered up with Rindou Haitani. The boy that comes into school once every blue moon. And to make matters worse, it’s a project where participation counts. So now it’s your job to harass Rindou into getting his shit straight.

tags - enemies to friends to lovers , angst , crack , college au, eventual smut , fluff.

status - ongoing

series masterlist

You shut your phone off as you stared out your window, Rindou’s motorcycle shining from the end of the street, signalling for you.

You opened your window, grabbed your bag filled with your laptop and some pens before leaping down the fire escape and climbing down. You had done this many times before so you had gotten used to it.

You jogged towards Rindou’s bike and exchanged a hello. He simple nodded and gestured for you to sit behind him.

“Like right there?” You pointed behind him, kind of nervous. You’d never been this close to a boy before.

“Yeah? Where else are you gonna sit? My head?” He rolled his eyes and you glared at him. Unnecessary attitude but whatever. “Okay..” you braced yourself before climbing on.

“You gotta hold onto me if you don’t wanna slip and die. I drive very fast.”

“Oh.”

You took a deep breath before wrapping your arms around his lower half. “Like this?” You asked and he nodded, ignoring the strange feeling at the bottom of his stomach when you squeezed him gently.

“Ready?” He asked, looking behind you and you shifted closer, accidentally rubbing your front against his back. He felt it and his cheeks heated up and turned to face the front before you noticed.

“I’m never getting on that thing again.” You said dizzily as you stumbled off the bike. Rindou watched and couldn’t help but picture his younger self when his uncle had taught him and Ran how ride a bike.

A small chuckle formed at the memory but you thought he was laughing at you. “Is there a problem?”

“Your overreacting.” He rolled his eyes hopping off his bike and bringing his keys out. There was something budging against the door, Rindou had whistled which caught the dogs attention, it moved out of the way.

He was able to open the door fully now, which revealed the big golden retriever. “Oh my god! Puppy!” You ran towards it,

“Careful he bites…” Rindou had a confused look on his face when the dog had indeed not bitten you, instead it let you pet him and even turned on its back for some belly rubs. “Oh, never mind.”

He remembered the time the dog had bitten him for just approaching him. That was literally last week. But whatever. He wasn’t jealous.

Okay he totally was. “C’mon move, we have a project to do.” He grabbed your arm and yanked you up, ignoring your string of protests as he walked you towards his room, shutting the door behind him.

“So what’s this project about.” He asked, making room on his bed before sitting on it.

"Um, its about-," you could barely focus. You had never been inside another boys room before. "It's about um, we gotta write a research proposal about any of these topics." You reached inside your bag, handing him the worksheet, watching his eyes skim through the list.

"I'm gonna be totally honest with you," you watched as he brought the sheet down, "I have no clue what any of this shit means."

"I gathered that." A sigh escaping your mouth didn't please Rindou as he glared at you as you brought your laptop out of your bag. You weren't lying, he knew you were right but he still didn't appreciate your attitude.

"Ok so basically just choose any of those, and we have three months to research about it. That's basically it. I'll let you choose which topic," You sat down on his bed as you started to sign into your laptop whilst Rindou scanned the worksheet again.

The list read;

Prejudice and discrimination (i.e., homophobia, sexism, racism)

Attitudes.

Social control and cults.

Persuasion, propaganda, and marketing.

Attraction, romance, and love.

"I don't know which to pick." He admitted.

"Just choose any, I really don't care." You wanted to go home, anxiously staring at your phone to see if your parents realised you were gone yet.

He closed his eyes and dragged his index finger up and down the sheet rapidly. You paused what you were doing and turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow, "What are you doing?"

"Im choosing, now shush." He moved his finger faster till he stopped on a random one. "So childish," you giggled and he told you to shut up.

"Attraction, romance and love it is," He shrugged, handing you the worksheet. "Okay not bad. Seems easy enough." You placed the worksheet in your bag and open up google chrome on your laptop.

"Come closer Rindou, you can't work from all the way over there." You patted the spot next to you, and he hesitated before shifting closer.

"Have you ever been in love?" You asked him and he paused for a moment. "Romantically? Or platonically?"

"Romantic."

He shook his head, "No. You?"

"No." An awkward silence was in the room before you awkwardly turned to face your laptop, "Okay so, if we're going to be partners I need two conditions from you."

"What?"

"You need to be present in school, at all times for these three months, and you need to put in an equal effort. Deal?"

Who does this girl think she is? Rindou thought. "Fine. Deal,"

A smile appeared on your face before turning back to your laptop, "Ok do you have a laptop? I can email you this link so we can both work on the document if we aren't together."

"Yeah, I do. It's in my brothers room. I'll go get it." He stood up, dusting his sweats before heading out the room, down the hall to his brothers room.

His brother's room was so fucking messy compared to his own it made him mad. Where is it? He searched his desk, empty. Under his bed, messy.

He clicked his tongue before bringing his phone out his pocket, ringing up Ran. Around three rings, Ran finally picked up.

"Yes?"

"Where the fuck is my laptop." Rindou spoke aggressively.

"I dont fucking know, somewhere in my room."

"I'm in your messy ass room, and I dont fuckin see it." Rindou's eyebrow twitched as Ran laughed through the phone. "What's so funny?"

"Check erm, around my drawers or something."

"Ok hold on," He put the phone on speaker and placed it on Ran's bed before searching through his drawers, finally finding the laptop. "Ok got it, bye."

"Have fun Rin." Ran said before hanging up. Rindou brought the laptop back to his room and saw you laying on his bed comfortably as you were typing away with your headphones on.

"Don't get too comfortable," His sudden voice scared you. You had forgotten he was even here, "Sorry.."

"It's whatever, scoot over." He pushed you gently and made room before sitting down,

"Okay what's your email?" You asked and he pointed to the top of his screen. You typed it in and sent him the link to the Word document. "Got it, go to your emails and click the link I sent you, then you can add any information you find whenever you want."

"Gotcha."

"I gotta go back home now, its late and I don't want my parents to kill me." You said packing your things,

"Want me to drop you?"

"Nah, I'll walk its ok." You tossed your bag over your back. "Text me if you need anything."

"You can't walk, its dark outside. I'll drop you, c'mon." He grabbed your hand and led you down the stairs before you could even protest.

"Get on the bike." He said while starting it and you looked a little anxious. "I'll drop you a block away from your house, so you can walk back. I won't wake up your parents with my bike I promise."

"Ok. Thank you Rindou." You said while stepping on the back of his bike, remembering the procedure from a few hours ago. Wrapping your arms around his lower waist.

Rindou didn't want to admit but the way you gripped onto him whenever the bike started to vibrate gave him butterflies in his stomach. When you would place your cheek on his back to avoid the wind blowing directly in your face.

He watched you wave goodbye as you hopped off his bike and jogged down the road towards your house, not realising he hadn't moved an inch until he saw you fully enter your front door. He released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #rindou x reader #haitani rindou x reader #rindou haitani scenarios #haitani rindou x you #rindou haitani x you #rindou haitani x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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What’s yours is mine 1

Warnings: nonconsent and rape, allusions to abuse, stalking, possessiveness, pregnancy, and more tags to be added.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: dark!Ransom Drysdale x pregnant!Reader

Summary: After five years, your past is far behind you but just as you think you can live your happily ever after, your ex shows up at the worst moment.

Note: I couldn’t sleep and ended up writing this and it will not be a long ongoing series but it will be a few parts. But Roo you say that all the time. Yes, well, I’m trying and I’m sorry but I’m gonna try to not be the worst.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“Oh my god, is that really you?” the voice made you stand stalk straight.

You took a breath and forced a smile before you turned to the indomitable woman. You never expected to see Linda again, not after you broke up with her son almost five years ago. And there she was, as rigid and righteous as ever, her thin lips curved in a mocking grin.

“Linda,” you greeted her in a singsong and looked around the grocery store. You never went to the overpriced organic market but your local shop didn’t have dragonfruit and you had a painful craving, “how are you?”

“Darling, I’m just great,” she held an empty basket on her arm, an odd sight as you never expected her to do her own shopping, “oh, and look at you!” Before you knew it, her hand was on your stomach and you struggled not shy away, “how far are you?”

“Um,” you looked down at the large ring on her finger and resisted the urge to step away as you often did in this situation, “almost five months.”

“And married?” she grabbed your left hand and pretended to admire the small teardrop diamond, “gorgeous.”

“Mhmm,” you waited for you to release you and swayed in place, “you barely look a day older than the last time I saw you.”

“You’re well? You look well,” she primped her short hair at the compliment, “oh, a baby.” She reached out again and you sighed as she rubbed your stomach, “for luck.”

You tried not to frown and ended up laughing at the tension, “well, it was nice running into you.”

“Oh, you know, I barely come down here but we’re headed up to my father’s place, you remember, such a cozy house, and Joni is in charge of food and well, I wouldn’t trust her with a plastic spoon so of course, I have a back up plan.”

You nodded along with her awkwardly, frozen in the spot as the dragon fruit barely seemed worth the torture. Linda was hard to please and alway derisive, but for as long as you were with Ransom, she had taken a keen shine to you. That alone came with an edge but it was rarely used to cut you.

You forced another laugh, “that sounds fun, getting away from the city.”

“Ugh, just another family gathering,” she waved it off with her free hand, “I’ll have to tell Ransom I ran into you, if he even shows up.”

“Well, I don’t think--”

“He’s grown up so much,” she interrupted, “you wouldn’t believe it. He got his own imprint in my father’s company publishing true crime. He’s really making a place for himself now.”

“That’s great,” you tried not to falter at the mention of her son. You hadn’t ended on the greatest terms and your relationship had been tumultuous and regrettable.

“I hope you have a great weekend, Linda,” you said, “but I got to--”

“Oh, not at all, I’m keeping you,” she squeezed your arm, “God, he was such an idiot to let you go.”

You nodded and swallowed through your tight throat, “I’m glad he’s doing better for himself.”

“You too,” she trilled, “oh, before I let you go, darling, is it a boy?”

You blinked and your smile wavered, “how did you know?”

“I could always tell,” she said, “so precious.”

She gave your stomach one last pat and disappeared into the produce section. You blinked as you looked down at the scaled fruit in your right hand. Chocolate, you needed chocolate.

You were rattled as you waited in the express line and put your things on the belt. You hadn’t thought of Ransom in a very long time. Not much. His shadow followed you around in those moments when your heart raced and your head spun, but you had learned to work through those fits. No one else knew what happened behind closed doors, they only knew Ransom, not Hugh.

You paid and shoved your fruit and candy into a paper bag. You headed out into the misty spring air. The rain had finally stopped and left the streets slick and shining. The sun was hazy as it clung to the last of the clouds and you inhaled the wet scent of grass and gravel.

You let your key hang from the ignition as you took a moment to gather yourself. You stared at the modest ring on your finger and held your stomach and you swore you could still feel Linda’s bony hand there.

You had a loving husband, Dez, and a son on the way. Ransom wasn’t a part of any of that and this was just a blip on radar, the aftershock of the storm that ended years before. You sniffed and turned the engine. You wouldn’t go back to that store, it was far too expensive and the clientele were certainly not of your ilk.

🍼

Dez was in the kitchen when you got home, the smell of steak and peppers rose from the frying pan. You kissed his cheek as he kept one hand on the spatula and you dropped your bag on the counter beside the stove. You went to the fridge and poured yourself a glass of water. You turned and leaned against the marble and drank deeply.

“So, hon, how was your day?” he asked as he put the spatula down and peeked in the bag, “hmm, odd pairing but I don’t hate it.”

“I had a craving,” you shrugged, “it was… okay,” you heaved, “what’s for dinner?”

“Steak fajitas,” he said, “I trimmed the fat for you and,” he turned and reached out to you, “and I got you some champagne… non-alcoholic, obviously.”

“You know it doesn’t have the same effects,” you kidded as you put your glass down and settled into his arms, “and well,” you looked down at your stomach, “we already got one drunken night growing.”

He laughed and bent to kiss you on the lips. He rocked you as the pan sizzled behind him. You closed your eyes and tensed as suddenly your head flashed with the memory of Ransom, of the way he’d kiss you, harder than Dez, and the way it always turned to more whether you wanted it or not.

“Hey,” Dez pulled back, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, “hormones.”

“Aw, hon, well I have the perfect dessert planned,” he purred.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm, strawberry massage oil,” he framed your face with his hand, “a nice long back rub…”

“Perfect,” you giggled, “why are you spoiling me?”

“Don’t I always?” he smirked.

“Hmm, rarely without reason,” you said.

“Well…” he voice trailed off and slowly he dropped his arms. He turned his back to you and grabbed the pan, stirring the contents with a shake, “I didn’t want you to miss me too bad.”

“Miss you?” you came forward and bent your arms over the counter, “where are you going?”

“Chicago, there’s some evidence down there we need to look at and they refuse to transfer it to our office so… bullshit confidentiality clause, but we need it.”

“How long?” your heart dropped.

“Well, I gotta leave in the morning but I told Gary I won’t stay longer than Monday.”

“And what did he say?”

“He laughed,” Dez shook his head, “I promise, I’ll do my best to be back as soon as I can--”

“No, I understand,” you said gloomily, “it’s just…” you cupped your chin and tapped your lips with your fingertips, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he said as he turned the burner off, “and this little guy,” he touched your stomach and you shivered as you remembered how Linda had done the same with her cold palm, “so, you choose a name yet?”

“Still not naming him Superman, babe,” you chided, “but no, I can’t make up my mind. God, it’s like my mind is in shambles, I can’t remember why I go in a room or even focus on one thing for more than two minutes before I’m distracted by what colour I want to paint the nursery and I can’t even decide on that because then I’m thinking about what kind of wood the crib should be--”

“It’s fine, you’re fine,” he assured as he opened the bag of tortillas, “you’re still there, you’re just… sharing a brain right now.”

“Wasn’t enough to go around in the first place,” you scoffed.

“Shh,” he arranged the plates carefully, like a five star restaurant, tortillas stacked, steak and veg together, a little dish of cheese, some sour cream, lettuce, salsa, all divvied out in a spectacular salsa you would only make a mess of.

“I thought the pregnancy would give me a chance to finish my book, but--”

“Well, you got maternity leave after that,” he said.

“From what? Sitting at my keyboard and crying? I’ll just be holding a baby and crying,” you sighed, “you said you’d take some time off.”

“I did say that and I will,” he grabbed the plates and nodded you out of the kitchen. He set the plates on the table and you sat as he went to grab two glasses and as many bottles. He poured you your spineless champagne and had a beer for himself, “I don’t want to miss anything.”

“You can’t take forever off,” you muttered, “we both know that. I could go back to copywriting and maybe--”

“Babe, that job made you miserable and you will finish your book,” he handed you a napkin, “I’ve read your stuff, it’s… you said your ex was in publishing?”

“Did I?”

“I thought you did, you never really… talk about the exes, which I love but, I think you said something about it. You don’t think he would--”

“No,” you snapped, “no,” you said softer, “he wouldn’t.”

“Sorry,” he said startled by your reaction, “I didn’t--”

“It’s nothing, I just-- exes, right?”

“It was a stupid suggestion,” he said, “I’m sorry, but… I have a client, he might have some contacts.”

“You don’t have to do that--”

“I don’t have to, I want to because the world deserves to hear your voice,” he insisted, “I hate to share you but I’d be selfish to keep you to myself.”

You smiled and unfolded a tortilla. Still, your heart raced as the second mention of Ransom that day had you on edge. Dez watched you build your fajita and you looked up at him.

“Well, since you’ll be in Chicago, maybe I’ll get a few pages done.”

🍼

The call came on Monday, Dez wouldn’t be home that night. You contented yourself to stay in with your laptop and sugar cookies. Still, you barely got a sentence done before you snapped your computer closed and gave up with a frustrated grunt. You slept, not well, and got up with some trouble as your hips ached.

A good morning text from Dez made you smile but there was still no promise of an impending return. You felt pent up in the apartment and lonely as its emptiness reminded you of your absent husband. Too tense to sit down and type, you opted to go for a walk, hoping it would calm your nerves.

You walked past the shop windows and stopped to peek in at used books and handmade candles. You had no destination in mind, only a restless step. There was a little store at the corner with locally made quilts and knitted sweaters. The smell of potpourri wafted out from beneath the painted door and made your throat tickle. Even so, your curiosity drew you inside.

A small woman greeted you from behind the desk. She held two needles as she crocheted some indistinguishable craft. You smiled and said hello as you headed down the centre aisle. You looked along the racks of quilts, floral, striped, plaid, and polka dot. You stopped at a bright yellow piece with honey bees along the border. You hadn’t thought of yellow for the nursery.

You felt the soft fabric and checked the tag. You lifted the quilt from the bar, content that it was worth it and a great motivator. You stopped before you could turn back, a familiar voice chilled your blood.

“It’s cute,” Ransom said as he stepped up next to you, “kinda girly for a boy though.”

You glanced over at him and folded the blanket over your arm. You backed up but as you turned he did too. He blocked your bath as he stretched his arm across the aisle.

“My mother told me you were expecting,” he said, “and she was right, you look good.”

“What do you want?” you whispered as you clutched the quilt.

“Nothing, just saying hello,” his mouth slanted.

“Hugh, I’m not stupid,” you hissed, “it’s been five years.”

“Hugh,” he repeated dully, “you remember your manners.”

“Leave me alone and let me past,” you tried to duck under his arm but he shifted his body over and backed you up to the end of the aisle.

“And married,” he taunted.

“He’s outside,” you lied, “if I stay too long--”

“I didn’t see him when you walked up,” he intoned, “he must be easy to miss.”

“Have you been following me?” you uttered.

“Only from the cafe,” he shrugged, “short walk.”

“Please, get away from me,” you quivered.

“I’m not doing anything--”

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” you hissed, “now I will scream so move.”

“Mama Bear,” he crooned, “I love it, you’re so protective.”

“Hugh,” you warned.

“Sweetie,” he hummed.

You shoved his shoulder but he didn’t move. You hit him harder and he winced. He chuckled and stood straight. He waved his arm down the aisle and stepped aside.

“Don’t make a scene,” he said, “you always did like to be dramatic.”

“Fuck you,” you snarled, “don’t come near me again.”

“Don’t act like you don’t miss me,” he called after you as you dropped the quilt on the counter, “we were so good together.”

You left without buying, a shrill apology to the lady at the counter as you went as fast as you could out the door. The bell tinkled after you and the door clamored shut. You felt nauseous and dizzy. The last thing you wanted or needed was to ever see that man again.

#ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #fic #series #knives out #dark fic #dark!fic #what's yours is mine

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uni-artsssy · 3 years

Text

Not Quite Dead, Not Quite Alive Pt.1

A/N: so this is my first fanfic. Um I don’t have many followers so idk if anyone’s actually gonna read it but to those who do I hope you enjoy. Also this is going to be an ongoing series too so part two will be coming. This story is actually inspired by a movie I saw a while ago called the Invisible.

Pairing: Avengers x f!Reader

Word count: 495 (this is pretty short)

Warning: Graphic Depictions of gore, blood, guns(idk I’m new) unattached body parts.

Part: 1 2 3

“Y/N THE DOOR IS CLOSING! WE NEED TO HURRY” Nat shouted over the sounds of automatic machine guns filling the outside air. She swiftly picked one up from the tar landing strip and aimed it to her left. Killing those who were on the roof of the building.

“GO! I’LL COVER YOU” You shout firing bullets to her right while running backwards behind Nat. Steve, Bucky, and Clint standing in the doorway of the ship to help pull Nat over the rising door.

You were close, so close. Bucky and Clint reaching their hands out to grab onto yours.

Just as you were feets away from being with the rest of the team, Feets away from going back to the tower and having dinner with everyone, an enemy that was hiding behind a black jeep just feets away from your left, a single bullet left the gun. Quickly closing the distance between your head and the gunman.

Everything looked as if it was moving in slow motion.

You had stopped running, instead you stumbled your last steps.

Sounds of your friends shouting your name muffled as they went in one ear and out the other.

And then….

*THUD*

You lie on the rocky surface of the landing strip. Your head had turned to the side as you fell, leveling your almost blurry vision with the field. Blood rapidly spills from your jaw and onto the ground.

...Your jaw...

As you mindlessly looked off into the distance, the thought of your jaw caused the pain that you were recently numb to, to take over your body starting with your head. In an attempt to let out a scream you came to realize you couldn’t feel the movement of your jaw. Letting out another blood curdling scream as your blood filled throat pushed out more of the thick liquid. Tears fall from your eyes as your vision clears for a quick second. Long enough for you to recognize the fleshy object sitting a good 2 feet away from you.

Your dismembered jaw. Blood covered the (S/C) flesh and stained the teeth to an orangey-red color. You’ve been hyperventilating, not being able to move though you were capable of doing the act you feared it would inflict more pain.

Winds from the quinjet blew your hair around as well as blew the small pebbles and dirt into your face. They were leaving you to die. Your friends. Your family. They didn’t stop the doors from closing. They didn’t jump out to help you. They just… left. As more and more tears fall from your eyes as you come closer to accepting your death. The last thing you could hear before finally closing your bloodshot eyes were the sounds of boots pounding against the tar. It sounded like an entire army. First the pounding was fast, then slowed down a bit before coming to a complete stop.

And so do you.

#marvel #captain america #bucky barnes #avengers #avengers fanfiction #new to tumblr #first fanfic #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #y/n #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x platonic reader #writers on tumblr #fanfic #marvel fanfic series #avengersfanfic #writerslife #so i wrote this

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levis-wings · 3 years

Text

02 | louder

and they were roommates

→ synopsis: now set in the present, you and your friends are managing your band, while you learn that levi cares more than you think

→ pairing: bassist!levi x fem!reader

→ warnings: eventual smut

→ wordcount: 6.660

→ a/n: i finally made an ao3!! you can read louder there if that's more comfortable for you, and i'll promise to update on ao3 concurrently!

series m.list | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

Delicate rays of sunshine filter in through the ash-colored drapes veiled over the bedroom windows. The smell of sausage and eggs drifts in through the cracks of the closed door.

Mmm. Breakfast. Well, or brunch, depending on how late you’ve woken up just now. And seeing how high the sun is in the sky…

You stir awake, yawning with your mouth widely open. God, why the hell do you sleep and wake up still tired? Then what was the fucking point of going to bed? Rubbing your eyes, you lazily turn to look at the space on the bed beside you.

Empty.

But unsurprising, nevertheless. You don’t know what else you could’ve expected. But the prospect that you might’ve missed breakfast (or brunch, or even lunch) is what propels you to beeline straight into the shared kitchen space, where you find your friends and their empty plates, talking. Or, more like arguing.

While leaving your poor stomach growling, you witness your first conversation of the day.

“How are you going to make money, Hange?” Levi sighs, raking his fingers through his usually well-combed head of hair.

In turn, Hange rolls her eyes. “You say that as if we don’t have a very successful band. I wanna go all-in for our team!”

You yawn, though thoroughly enjoying the morning bickering and nodding a quick thanks at Erwin who passes you a plate of toast and eggs. Aha! You’d only missed breakfast. A sigh of relief escapes your lips, followed by a heavy (almost instinctual) retort: “Scared of commitment, doctor?”

Hange turns, then swings her whole arm around you, a bright grin plastered on her face. “That’s what I’ve been telling him, Y/N,” she says. “Erwin’s looking to quit his job too. If we make the band our full-time thing, we’re definitely going to make more music and have more concerts. And you know what that means.”

“More money,” you chime in with Erwin.

Levi gives you a particularly agitated glare. “You’re the one to talk, brat. You still haven’t even thought about quitting your job.”

“Well, I never said I was gonna quit,” you say, beginning to busy yourself with making your morning cup of tea. “You don’t have to quit either.”

You pass Levi his warm teacup filled to the brim with his typical oolong while you sip your iced earl grey. He mutters a thanks but sighs, playing with the cup handle as he murmurs, “It’s already embarrassing as it is when some of my patients want me to sign their CDs.”

Hange laughs out loud and a smiling Erwin slaps Levi on the back, earning a very warranted glare from the shorter man.

“Aw, that’s actually very adorable,” you coo, taking a sip from your glass of ice tea.

Another glare.

You don’t mind.

“Look, once Erwin quits his job, we’re gonna have sooo much time to write and produce!” Hange exclaims. She rubs her hands together, eyes flashing with all sorts of thoughts.

The three of you look at each other. And then back at her.

“Guys!” she yells. “What if we’re put on the billboards???”

Levi scoffs. “Um, I’d rather not.”

You snort. Of course. He’d also thrown a massive stink when you were trying to record a small teaser clip for your newest song. Levi and cameras are an ongoing saga of hatred. And you decide to tease him about it.

“Scared you’re not hot enough, Levi?” you swirl your glass of tea, ice clinking together as you look up at the man with a permanent scowl etched on his face. “But, you know, last time I checked, we were blowing up on YouTube.”

“I cannot stop scrolling through the comments,” Hange giggles. “But I’m still confused as to why Levi has so many fans.” She crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head in disapproval. “He doesn’t even know what fanservice is!”

You laugh along with her. “It’s because they haven’t seen his real personality yet.”

Levi jerks his head toward you. “Says you.”

“My personality is fan-fucking-tastic, thank you.”

Erwin snorts. “Try not to tear apart the kitchen, you two.”

Hange nods in agreement before she’s gathering her leftover plates and dumping them noisily in the sink (much to Levi’s dismay). “Anyways, I’m off to call and confirm some of our gigs!”

“And I’m off to write my letter of resignation,” Erwin says. To Levi’s complete approval, he wipes down his plate and places it neatly into the sink.

This just leaves you and Levi alone in the kitchen. God. Even after four fucking years, things are still a little tense between the two of you. You can't look him in the eye.

Awkwardly, you bite into your toast. The crunch! is way too loud in the soundless room and you wince as some of the crumbs fall onto the counter. Levi notices. But unlike usual, he doesn’t bitch about it

“I’m on kitchen duty today,” he says. “Don’t worry about it.” He glances at your ice tea, eyes slightly narrowing. “But I would appreciate it if you used coasters under your iced drinks.”

“Oops.” You quickly pick up your glass of ice tea, a ring of condensation already left behind in its place. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He takes a silent sip of his warm tea, eyes glued on the marble counter.

You take a sip of your own ice tea, eyes also glued on the marble counter. Goddamn. If you were hungry before, you definitely aren’t now. Why is the silence so fucking loud?

This is exactly what happens when you and Levi are left alone while the two extroverts of the group handle other things. Complete and utter silence.

You clear your throat. “You know what? I’m gonna go crunch some numbers.”

Levi nods and he lets you flee from the scene, watching your backside as his eyes soften but his lips slope slightly down. Four years. And it’s still like this.

But no matter. Once he gets to work scrubbing down the kitchen, he loses everything on his mind and comes to peace. Levi takes his kitchen duties as seriously as he takes everything else in his life. He does the dishes, triple wipes down the counter and sighs and shakes his head at the mess you’d made (and neglected to at least put away) when you’d made tea this morning. Why you enter his mind during his supposedly peaceful cleaning sessions is beyond him. He hopes he plagues your thoughts and annoys you just as much as the thought of you irritates him. Well, irritate is a strong word. Or is it, when it comes to you?

He sighs and folds up his favorite dishcloth before washing his own hands with two different kinds of soap (because one just doesn’t do the job). Levi’s slipper-clad feet pad into his bedroom, half-expecting to see you and half-expecting to see you gone (for some illogical reason). But no surprise, you're hunched over a messy desk (the one Levi constantly has to clean), pen behind your ear, pencil in your hand and calculator sitting loyally beside you. You’re furiously scribbling numbers into what you called the ‘Finance Journal,’—complete with every record of payment and profit you made together as a band. You don’t even hear Levi enter the room.

Levi thinks it’s slightly amusing how serious you can be sometimes. With all your flirting and teasing and endless banter, he’d think you like to take everything as casually as your personality allows. But when it comes to the band, you don’t fucking joke around.

He walks to look square over your shoulder, attempting to read your chicken-scratch handwriting (which veers in an even worse direction with numbers). You pause your writing, leaning back in your chair. He thinks you’re about to turn to him, talk to him, give him some sort of attention but you make no notice of his presence and instead, reach for your empty glass of tea. You sigh at it sadly before tilting your head back slowly and capturing one single ice cube between your soft lips.

He stares. Nearly ogles at the perfect way your lips envelope around the ice. Your hot mouth begins to melt the solid in your grasps and he watches as a stray droplet gathers around the corner of your lips. A small, slow swipe of your smooth tongue and it’s gone. Fuck. It’s fucking erotic and even more so knowing that you aren’t doing it on purpose.

But then you ruin the moment by fucking crunching on the ice.

Crack!

Levi grimaces. Two years of living together—and in the same room, he might add—but he still can’t seem to get used to you crunching on fucking ice cubes.

When the ice has dissolved in your mouth, you finally turn to Levi and speak: “We’re making more and more by the month.” So casually. So carelessly. As if you just hadn’t totally charmed the pants off of him by simply eating ice.

So he offers you an equally casual, “Really?”

You nod, picking up your journal and reading off of its contents. “The gig this weekend’s about 800 bucks for us each. Then we have that interview on Monday at noon next week. They’re paying us a thousand each for that. There’s our photoshoot in two weeks, our big concert for 2,500 each in three. Did I mention they’re paying for our flight tickets and everything?” you pause to gauge Levi’s reaction but he remains as stoic as ever. “Whatever,” you grump. “Then we have our usual gigs Tuesday through Friday. Hange told me they’re raising us a few bucks to keep us playing there. 500 each.”

“I see.”

Levi trusts you with money. Erwin and Hange do too. In fact, all of them trust you. You’re practically one-third of the manager on the team, Hange and Erwin being the other two-thirds. While you’re in charge of the profits and splitting the costs, Hange’s the one who books the gigs and confirms them and Erwin’s the designated music producer. He’s been taking music classes in his free time and reading actual poetry to learn a thing or two about lyricism. Hange’s been tagging along on those class trips too, these days, so Levi’s pretty sure the band’s gonna get some bizarre song topic pitches in the next few weeks.

His bandmates all play a deeper part in the band. Except him. Levi just plays the music. Which is another reason he doesn’t feel the need to quit his job. If he were to quit, he wouldn’t have much to do. And dilly-dallying while wasting time happens to be one of his many pet peeves.

“I never thought we’d get so big,” you say suddenly, breaking Levi from his thoughts. He snorts but doesn’t offer a verbal answer. “Maybe I should quit my job.”

This time, Levi raises his eyebrows. “Is it too much for you?”

He’s not asking to challenge you. He’s genuinely curious, and you can sense that.

With a shrug, you speak. “I don’t know… It’s just a little difficult to balance the hours, I guess.”

He stares at you, brows furrowing. “You haven’t been getting much sleep.”

Now, you’re surprised that he even noticed. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re starting to wake up later and later on your off days and the tired yawns that filter in throughout the day. But going to your 8-4 software engineer job Mondays through Fridays, practicing for your band every day and then playing night concerts Tuesday-Friday while also occasionally on the weekends is a lot more than you thought you could handle. But you don’t want to fuck up when other people are depending on you. “I know,” you tell Levi. “But sleep is for the weak, isn’t it?” You offer him a grin and he deflects it with a roll of his eyes.

“But I’m wary,” you confess. Ah, now this is the bit of vulnerability you like to hide so much from your fans and other friends. The vulnerability that you allow yourself to show to him—and only him. “What if the band flops one day? What if you turn 40 and your teenage fans decide you’re too old for them? Or what if my beautiful face deteriorates and my fans don’t find me attractive anymore? What if our songs aren’t good enough? What if we’re not good enough, you know? I like having a safety net. I like having a fucking job besides the band. And I know you do too.”

Damn. You’re dead-serious about this. He wishes he were Hange so he could think of something witty, bright and most importantly encouraging to say. He wishes he were Erwin so he could pat you on the back and give one of his luxurious, morale-raising speeches. But Levi is just Levi.

“I don't think we’re going to flop anytime soon,” he says. And he’s being honest. “We’re just getting started, aren’t we?” A long pause. “You shouldn’t overwork yourself. It’ll affect your performance in both areas of work.”

“You’re right.” Then, your eyes narrow at him. “Hey… are you implying that you want me to quit my job so you can be the only one in the band to actually have one? Do you wanna be our sugar daddy?” You grin.

Levi is, once again, unamused. “You’re impossible.”

“I revel in the very fact.”

Silence.

You hum, pencil dancing between your lips as you chew on it thoughtlessly. Levi is about to tell you that’s fucking disgusting, but you beat him to the punch.

“Hange wants to write a song about sea cucumbers.”

He stares at you, trying to keep his face blank, but the corners of his mouth begin to twitch up. Damn. Why do you say the most arbitrary things completely out of the blue? But he has to admit, he likes it. He never knows what to expect. And after all these years of acquaintance, you still keep him guessing.

“Tell her that she’ll be playing that song alone,” he says.

You smile. “Oh, I already did. I think it was because we played at the aquarium last week. Someone got her hooked on sea cucumbers for some reason. Know what’s worse though?”

Levi shakes his head.

“Erwin wants to write a song about hearts.”

Levi wrinkles his nose. “Hearts?”

“Yes, you heard that right. Hearts. Like our organs. Like the stupid Valentine’s Day mascot. He wants the chorus to be something along the lines of, ‘dedicate your hearts’ or some shit. Damn, I’d rather stop my heart from beating.”

Levi snorts. “How did we ever get stuck with these two?”

“Really?” you grin. “I ask myself every day how I ever got stuck with you,” you tease. “Don’t worry, though. You’re not so much of a grump as you think you are.”

“And you’re exactly the brat you think you are.”

“But you love it,” you sing.

Levi doesn’t say anything after that. He just leans over and picks up your empty glass, humming in approval at the coaster you’d put underneath. It seems as though the conversation has dwindled down, and there’s nothing left to say anymore. Normally, you’d get back to work, triple-checking your calculations and reorganizing the profits, but you find that drinking a full glass of ice tea on an empty stomach puts a lot of pressure on your bladder.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom, leaving Levi alone in the bedroom, leaning against the desk with your glass in hand. His satisfied expression that you’d used a coaster upon his request haunts you even during your morning shower. Soap-suds washing over your eyes, you envision a happy Levi, a smiling Levi. Though his smiles are rare, when he does part his lips for one, he looks absolutely breathtaking. His silver eyes sparkle with enchantment and the tension in his brows loosen to allow a more relaxed, peaceful look. His nose crinkles ever so slightly and sometimes, when you catch him in an even rarer grin, you’ll catch a glimpse of his perfect dentist teeth. God, you’ve always quite liked his smile.

Damn him.

You turn rigid. How can you think of your friend while in the shower?

Feeling a little disgusted with yourself, you immediately shut the water off and wring out your hair. You should feel clean, satisfied, fresh coming out of the shower, but instead, you feel guilty and a little off-kilter.

And when you step out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, you’re struck by a bigger reminder that yes, Levi is very much so present in your life. Your messy desk has been organized and cleaned down to the last eraser shaving. The inkblots that had accidentally bled through your papers have been wiped thoroughly, and your chaotic “stack” of scratch papers has been filed into what a real stack looks like. A new glass of iced tea sits on a coaster in the corner of your desk. With fresh ice cubes and all.

Unbeknownst to yourself, a small smile reaches your lips.

Damn that Levi Ackerman.

800 bucks on the line. 800 fucking bucks each. That’s a little more than three grand, total.

You’re sweating absolute bullets, a string of completely unfiltered swear words leaving your mouth. Erwin looks over from his hair and makeup station to find you splayed on the floor, your guitar in your hands and distress on your face. His eyes flit over to your broken E string and he frowns.

“Anyone have an extra high E string?” he yells so loudly everyone backstage pauses momentarily. “Fuck,” he curses when no one answers him—all just shakes of their heads. “We’re on stage in ten minutes.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say in a panic, hands coming up to fist your hair. “God. Shit. What do we do?”

800 bucks on the line. 800 crisp wads of paper. You can see them being shredded in front of your face. Why now of all times?

You should’ve checked your strings before coming to the venue. You should’ve. You’ve let your team down. You’ve let everyone down. What if the venue never lets you play here again? You can’t even look Erwin in the face as he pats your back, trying to comfort you. But you know he’s also drowning in his own pool of anxiety.

“It’s okay! It’s okay!” Hange’s yelling from across the room as her makeup artist struggles to add the finishing touches to her foundation. “You can just sing for tonight! We’ll just amp up Erwin’s instrument!”

“That’s bullshit,” Levi finally says, crossing his arms over his chest and turning around in his chair to face you and Erwin. “She’s our rhythm guitarist. We need her to play as much as we need her to sing.”

You stand up, wiping the sweat off your brows and clutching your guitar. “Can we delay the show for just ten minutes? I can go out and find a music store. I think I saw one nearby.”

Erwin glances at his watch, a frown etched on his face. “Delay the show? I’m not so sure, Y/N…”

Levi stands from his chair. “I’ll get the string.”

He gives no room for argument because he’s already out the door in the next second. “Levi, wait!” you call after him but he doesn’t look back.

Erwin places a hand on your shoulder. “It’s fine. He wouldn’t have gone if he didn’t think he could get back in time.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about this,” Hange says, placing a hand on your other shoulder. She gives you an encouraging smile. “It’s not your fault the string broke.”

It isn’t. But it is your fault that you didn’t have a spare string whatsoever.

And now your bandmate has to pay the price. You would’ve been perfectly fine with getting the string yourself. Yet Levi had volunteered. Almost without a second thought.

“Fuck ups happen,” Erwin tells you. “Remember when they forgot to turn on Hange’s mic?”

Hange snorts. “Yeah, it was a hectic thirty seconds as they figured things out backstage.”

“What’s important is that we deliver to the audience,” Erwin says. He checks your countenance and still finds worry lines on your forehead. “Really, Y/N,” he says. “We’ll be fine.”

You nod.

But why do you feel so useless sometimes? Goddammit.

Ruminating upon your stupidity, you sit, gnawing at your fingernails and waiting as the time ticks by. Erwin glances at his own watch every five seconds and Hange’s giving herself pep talks as she normally does before every performance. Usually, five minutes before you’re on stage, you do your vocal warmups and get some water in your system to hydrate. You’re too anxious to do any of that tonight.

Finally, finally, with just two minutes left to spare, Levi rushes backstage, an E string in his hands. He’s panting, sweat dripping down his neck and dotting his forehead. He runs his fingers through his hair (making the hairstylist who styled it nearly faint) and walks up to you. So casually. So carelessly. As if he didn’t just bolt up and offer to buy your E string for you at a music store nearly three or four blocks away from the venue.

“Here,” he says. For just a split second, your fingers brush together as he hands you the string. It’s almost as if it were in slow motion. His long fingers are nimble and surprisingly soft against your own. But you should know. Levi hoards lotion at every Bath & Body Works sale. His gray eyes lighten up for a split-second at your touch before you’re retracting your hand quickly, sprinting to your guitar to lace it in.

With just two minutes left to spare, there isn’t any time for thank you’s and grateful glances. It’s crunch time and your bandmates watch anxiously as you replace your broken string with your new one. And the moment you tune your instrument, you’re rushed on stage where Hange’s drum set and your mic are waiting.

You can hear the announcements from behind the velvet curtains. The cheers of the audience. The screams of the fans. One quick glance at Levi and you see that he’s looking your way. His stormy eyes glint in the dim lights but truly onstage and in one of the spotlights, you know that they shine. One corner of his mouth tugs up and he gives you a small nod. You nod at him back.

“Ready, team?” Erwin says, swinging his electric guitar in front of him.

“Ready!” you and Hange call in unison while Levi gives a single nod.

Everyone gets in their positions—you’re front and center as usual, hands grazing the mic stand and guitar swung over your shoulder. When you glance behind on your right, you see Levi, who’s rubbing the tiniest dust particles off of his bass (as usual). A glance to your left is the band’s unofficial official leader, already looking like a complete star in the yellow light. Being onstage is part of Erwin’s element and he makes it abundantly clear every time. Right behind you is Hange, who, just like Erwin, was born to perform.

Another glance behind at Levi. But this time, his steely eyes meet yours. A sort of warm, fuzzy feeling builds up in your chest—you’re not sure if it’s because of him or because of performance jitters (which you still get to this day). You and Levi only shine in certain angles of light—when the two of you are so lost deep within your burning passion for music that even a crowd of people watching can’t deter you from expressing yourself in notes and lyrics. Erwin and Hange’s element might be being onstage, standing in the spotlight. But your and Levi’s element is music, and no matter how many backstage fuck ups there are, you’ll make sure to deliver your passion out there in the end.

The crowd roars as the curtains lift. The white light blinds you. The stage is massive. You can’t make out a single face in the audience, but it’s better that way.

“Ladies and gents, may I present to you our performing band tonight, Roommates!”

The fire inside of you burns. It swallows the nervousness, the last of your lingering insecurities and most importantly, any recollections of the real world. It’s just music now. You let the flames tower over the stadium along with you as you sing the first loud, clear note.

You let your muscle memory take over as your head reels with thoughts and recollections.

Roommates. You have to admit that it’s a little corny name for a band, but you also suppose it works because it’s true. And the process you and your friends went through to create it was quite a mess (much to Levi’s distaste).

You’re sprawled across the couch along with Hange, who’s taken it upon herself to heal her sore feet by placing them on top of the coffee table. Levi glares daggers into her feet, while Erwin’s laughing with food in his mouth. It’s takeout night tonight, which means fast food for the three of you and a home-cooked meal for Mr. I’m-so-pretentious-I-only-eat-healthy-meals Levi Ackerman. But you also have to admit that his hot pile of white rice and steamed fish look absolutely delectable. You can’t help yourself but to reach out and steal a bit of that perfectly cooked fish. Levi’s glare shifts from Hange’s feet to your face.

You can tell he’s about to say something, but Erwin speaks first.

“We’ve got to address the elephant in the room.”

“That certain people should not put their feet on the coffee table? And others should cook their own fish before stealing someone else’s?” Levi says.

You and Hange laugh together and it ends with you putting your feet on the coffee table and Hange stealing some of Levi’s fish. He sinks into his chair, rubbing his forehead.

“Erm, no, not quite,” Erwin says. “I was gonna ask about our band name. It’s been a week and we’ve just been calling ourselves ‘The Band.’ I don’t wanna be that person, but it sounds lame.”

“Really?” Levi says, raising his eyebrows. “I thought it was a fucking fantastic name.”

Hange snorts. “Hey, I know! With my H, your L, Levi and Erwin’s E… Wait, no that wouldn’t work. Dammit, Y/N. We can’t make an acronym because of you!”

You raise your hands up in defense. “My parents would formally like to apologize on my behalf for choosing my name for me at birth.”

Levi snickers. Erwin snorts. Hange gives out a big, dramatic sigh.

“Then I suggest we name the band something we can all agree on,” Erwin says.

Oh, you might have a few hilarious suggestions up your sleeve. “What about ‘Music?’” you giggle. “It’s short, catchy and—”

“Horrible,” Levi finishes, his eyes glaring daggers into your skin. Apparently, he can’t appreciate a good joke.

“Oh? Then I’d like to see you try, doctor.”

Erwin steps in before the (inevitable) quarrel can even begin. “Okay, well, I’m just throwing this idea out there, but I suggest we do something like, I dunno, The Truth? It’s impactful, isn’t it?”

“No,” everyone else deadpans.

“You’re joking, right? That’s even shittier than ‘Music,’” Levi grumbles, slumping over in his seat.

You lounge on the couch, an amused smile stuck on your face as you pick at the leather, much to Levi’s distaste. “At this rate, we might just reach stardom before we even decide on our band name.”

Everybody sits in silence after that, minds whirring with potential ideas—but most are too afraid to verbalize them in fear of a collective shutdown (that you and Erwin have so far received). You steal a glance at Levi, who looks bored out of his fucking mind. Uncreative tweed brain, you insult him in your head. He should at least pretend to try coming up with a name. But there he is, sitting in his seat, head probably empty with little to no thoughts. Or… maybe you’re underestimating him. Maybe he is thinking of potential band names, but his resting face just happens to look painfully bored. You can never know with Levi Ackerman. And besides, with all this thinking of Levi, you realize you haven’t exactly been brainstorming any ideas either. You don’t want to be a fucking hypocrite.

Meanwhile, just two feet away from you, Levi’s mind is, indeed, not empty at all. In fact, it is filled to the brim with unwanted thoughts. He glances absentmindedly at you, only to see your brows twisted and lips curved slightly down. He wonders what the fuck could be displeasing you like that, and since he’s not a mind reader, he comes to assume that your resting thinking face is a frown. Which is an ironic contrast to your usual happy-go-lucky personality. God, is your personality fucking annoying sometimes. Don’t you know that when you tease him, make up arguments out of nowhere, he has no choice but to reciprocate your actions? Well, maybe he does have a choice. He can always ignore you. But what fun would that be? He flinches. No, he’ll just ignore you. He’s done it before; he can do it again. Only if you stopped invading his thoughts like this. Come one. Music? For a band name? You must’ve dropped your brain at the grocery store last week. Oh, right. He’s supposed to be brainstorming about band names. Goddamn, but how can he when all he can really think about is you?

“I GOT IT!!!” Hange screams, jumping up from the couch and pointing to the ceiling dramatically. “I FUCKING GOT IT!”

You and Levi were so lost in thought, her sudden announcement has both of you absolutely startled, looking at her as if you two are deer who have been caught by a pair of exceptionally bright headlights. Erwin crosses his legs and raises his eyebrows. “Let’s hear it, Hange.”

“Listen, listen,” she says, hands balancing herself in the air as she does a dramatic sweep of the audience with her eyes. “What about…” Another histrionic pause. “Roommates.”

You gasp. “Wait! That’s actually so catchy!”

Erwin hums. “Not bad, Hange. It’s the best we have so far.”

Levi watches how your eyes light up and rolls his own. It’s not even that of a good idea. Just because they’re all technically living together and are roommates by definition, doesn’t mean they should go around calling their very professional band such an eponymous name. But he doesn’t want to ruin the mood and be called a party pooper (by you and Hange), so he keeps his mouth shut.

“Oh my god,” you’re giggling, turning to Hange and waving your hands in excitement. “What if on our band logo, we do that thing where we turn the two O’s in Roommates into an infinity sign??? ‘Cause friendship is forever and all of you are stuck living with me until you die. And, ooh, ooh! We should spell ‘mate’ with an 8, you know? Like M-8. Sounds just like mate, when you say it out loud. That way, the 8 is just the infinity sign turned sideways. I think I’m a genius.”

This time, Hange gasps and Erwin nods approvingly.

But:

“No.”

Everyone turns their heads to Levi.

“No?” you pout. “Fine. Okay, small guy. Do you have anything better?”

Levi’s put on the hot seat. Normally, he doesn’t mind giving everyone a piece of his unfiltered opinions, but today, it feels a little different. This is serious stuff. “I’m not gonna be a part of a band called fucking Roommates.”

Hange rolls her eyes all the way up to the ceiling and back. “Then take your fucking pretentious ass and leave, Levi.”

You laugh as you swing an arm around her. “It’s okay, doctor. You wouldn’t dare leave me, would you? Just suck it up and stay.”

“You little—”

Erwin interrupts before things can get ugly. “So!” he says. “Everyone except Levi agrees with Roommates?” He glances over at his grumpy friend. “Levi, if you really don’t like it, we can take a few days to mull it over and come up with other ideas.”

Again, he’s on the hot seat.

Does he really want to be the designated asshole and make things difficult for his (annoying) friends? Or does he go against his better judgment and accept that Roommates will be plastered all over his face from now on? He glances at you again. (He doesn’t know why he keeps doing that. It’s not like he finds solace in your face or anything. Or does he??)

No, he doesn’t.

He regrets even looking at you. Because you’ve put on your most “adorable” puppy dog face, lips pulled out in a full pout and eyes pleading and desperate. He freezes. He knows that look. He’s seen it before. Right in this same house. Two years ago. Fuck.

Is it intentional? Did you give him that look on purpose, knowing it’ll rile him up? If so, you’re much eviler than you look. He hates it. But he can’t possibly hate you. Oh, god. He’s going to have to agree with this.

“No,” he says out loud, rubbing his forehead. “It’s fine. Roommates is fine.”

Of course it’s fine. Because two years later, it’s exactly the name that’s plastered all over his face and possibly on the billboards.

The reverberating last strum of your guitar (with its new E string and all) echoes across the concert hall. You’re panting, out of breath, chest heaving as you soak up the applause and the attention from the crowd. Normally, you absolutely detest the spotlight. But after a two-hour performance, it feels like a reward. Still, you refuse to make eye contact with the audience, staring at the blinding lights, instead.

There she goes again, Levi thinks. Staring at the lights. He’s worried you’ll go blind at this rate.

Your hand is still wrapped tightly around your mic, and you refuse to let go, reveling in this connection you have with the stage. As the frontman, there will always be more eyes on you than the others. It’s both an honor and nerve-wracking at the same time. But you feel alive like this. Like you’re living. Like you’ve just climbed an enormous mountain and are looking far across to appreciate the view.

The applause doesn’t cease until the curtains fall back over you, hiding your band from the crowd. Only then do you blink; only then does your hand loosen around your microphone stand.

“Amazing, guys!” Hange yells, pulling the group in for one of her tight bear hugs. “Y/N, you sounded extra great tonight.”

“Thanks.” You smile at her.

She just swings her arm around you. “What do you think of steak night for dinner?” she says. “We deserve it after this one.”

Oh, right. You’d almost forgotten about the E string incident before the performance. You turn to Levi, eyes widening. Your mind begins to race. Wait a minute. Did you even thank him properly? You can’t remember. Will he resent you if you forget your manners? Levi’s all about proper etiquette. You can’t go around making him run around for your mistakes and not even express gratitude afterward. Because you are thankful.

“—/N? Y/N? You there?” Hange waves a hand in front of your face. “Girl, you spaced out.”

“Shit.” You blink.

Erwin just laughs at your daze. “We’re all okay with steak night. Hange was just asking if you’re fine with it too.”

“Have I ever not been fine with steak night?” you say, grinning. “Let’s go, then, shall we?”

Hange’s jumping up and down—always full of energy—(before jumping on Erwin’s back, and now he’s obligated to carry her to the van.) They leave, both of them talking up a storm and laughing at Hange’s spectacular jokes.

You’re left with Levi. Again. He glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking, but you are. You suppose now’s the perfect time to show him your gratitude.

“Hey,” you say and immediately wince after. Why do you always sound so fucking awkward when it’s just the two of you? “I never uh, thanked you for fetching the guitar string for me… So, I guess… thanks.”

He stares into your eyes. Then he snorts. He actually snorts. “I was just doing what’s best for the band.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He fidgets with his fingers before pointing backstage. “I’m… gonna get changed before we go. Can you tell the others?”

Typical Levi. He can’t stand marinating in his sweat-soaked clothes so he always makes the effort to change before leaving the venue.

“Yeah. We’ll be waiting in the van, then.”

“Mhm.”

“You sounded good tonight, too, doctor.” You don’t know what possessed you to say that. It was most definitely to fill in the gaps of silence and mend the awkwardness.

Levi’s eyes widen slightly, but he plays it off so well with a casual shrug. “You did too, brat.”

And with that, the two of you part ways, not another glance at each other. You settle in the van, trying to relax in the air-conditioned space, but it’s hard when a certain shorty is occupying your thoughts. Did he really compliment you tonight? To be fair, you complimented him first, so he was probably just returning the favor, right? Or did he really think you were great tonight? And why are you so obsessed with what he thinks? It’s absolute bullshit.

You must look like you have a lot on your mind. Because when Erwin leans over and places his hand on your shoulder, you jump. But he’s used to this kind of behavior (embarrassingly, enough)—it’s not the first time he’s caught you completely lost in your thoughts (and thinking about a certain short man). Tonight, however, it seems as though you were thinking out loud.

“You know,” Erwin starts, his voice a low whisper. “He cares more than you think.”

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out which name belongs to that pronoun. And maybe he’s right. Either that or Levi didn’t want to ruin the performance because he’s a perfectionist ass. If he cares for you that much, he’d make a greater effort to show it, right? Unless… Unless he’s doing exactly what you’re doing—pretending you don’t matter that much to him to throw you off. But he wouldn’t do that, right? Levi’s a private person, but he wouldn’t lie about his feelings. You think. You’re honestly not very sure. Damn. You’re supposed to be one of his closest friends, but why do you feel so far away from him? Why can’t you care about him outwardly—just like you care for Erwin and Hange?

“There’s probably a reason the two of you still share a bed,” Erwin says, interrupting your thoughts once more. He gives you a look. A look of which very clearly says, ‘I know your little secret and you can’t do anything about it.’ Except he doesn’t know. He can assume all he wants but he doesn’t know the full story. Hange doesn’t know either. And you and Levi would like to keep it that way.

You scoff. “It’s convenient,” you grumble.

“Sure,” he answers, eyebrows raised.

Levi barely even sleeps so it works out perfectly. Most of the time, you basically have the bed to yourself, which means you can lie down like a starfish and he won’t even care! And even when he does occasionally join you in bed, it’s completely platonic. He stays on his side of the bed; you stay on yours. There’s an invisible line split down the middle of the bed that the two of you rarely cross when you lie together. Of course, there are exceptions.

Your cheeks heat up.

Not anymore. No, there were exceptions.

You think.

join the taglist!

@hannie2kay @ackeruser @eternita3 @astridthevalkyrie @cherrytomato2 @pettyluxury

published 13 august 2021

#levi ackerman smut #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi #levi smut #levi angst #levi fluff #shingeko no kyojin #snk #attack on titan #aot #aot smut #attack on titan smut #levi ackerman fic #snk smut #louder

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raisinchallah · 2 years

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I can't find the post now but you saying in Strange New Worlds where Spock says "Starfleet is where I'm accepted" or something like that. Excuse me while I make my tinfoil hat but I can't shake the feeling that newer Trek shows are shifting to military propaganda or 9/11 really did move TV so far right that they have to be even more obvious and basic with their messages. Like you said, it's such a revision but also hard for me to not think "Who benefits from this"

ok this answer got a bit out of control dfjklad;jklj its going under the cut

yeah i think theres a ton of different factors and i do think its been a gradual shift starting before these new shows like i didnt actually realize until recently but voyager was produced as a network show not a syndicated show like tng and ds9 and had to answer to the executives of upn as well as paramount (tho paramount owned upn) and there was a lot more executive meddling and was part of why the show like wasnt able to have any kind of overarching story or anything tho rick berman was also super nervous about that and in many ways voyager feels like a shift towards a sort of baffling obsession with starfleet rules and obsession with starfleet for starfleets sake which i think is somewhat jarring after watching ds9 and feels like active course correction and then of course the most extreme product of the post 9/11 tv environment was enterprise also produced in a similar atmosphere with that kind of oversight and all that i think also well its been the slow march towards understanding itself as a larger franchise as well and i guess as each subsequent show is produced its like actively defining what the franchise itself is... and then theres aos which actually is pretty interesting on this front that it does portray a much more militarized starfleet and is definitely critical of that but i think perhaps has been taken by some people to be like well starfleet = good so militarized starfleet also = good and because it was so many peoples first introduction to star trek i dont actually know how that has altered fan perception and so on and now we exist in a world of more and more giant sprawling franchises that also have extremely tightly controlled content that is also wrapped up in military propaganda and i dont think star trek is ever gonna like fully going on in that direction but i do find it interesting i guess starfleet has become the defining trait of the series and must always exist i think the push to bring back the federation in discovery really is so puzzling to me but i guess just again reflects this history and i suppose u cant really call something star trek now if u dont have the little delta shaped badge on or something when i dont really feel like that has to be what it is cuz its a massive massive universe to explore i know picard this season is i guess trying to be political and comment on current events but tbh i havent watched it so i do not really know how people are assessing its handling of it and all but i do think this would be idk interesting to look into and think about and wow i just realized i strayed kinda far from your question um anyways back to the revisionism yeah i think partially it might just be trying to sand off the edges and redefine this story and show for their ongoing franchise plans and like the newer shows have very much been stuck in looking at old star trek sort of a snake eating its tail which i think will always angle towards somewhat underwhelming and kinda conservative takes idk i wonder if in many ways its trying to reflect how fans and the public percieve what star trek should be rather than like reality idk all marketing something adkl;kladfj i am trying to not be so cynical and whatever but idk its interesting ok sorry for the word wall

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brw · 3 years

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Tony Stark and Reed Richards for the character ask thing

TONY STARK

how i feel about this character: 😬 ngl i... don't care for him. at all. i don't vehemently hate him, there's definitely times where i appreciate him & his personality but it's few and far between and i... genuinely do not get the hype. i think its mostly mcu fans' fault for my dislike, its just he's fucking EVERYWHERE now, it's impossible to miss him? like he plays a big role in EVERY avengers comic now, he gets ongoing titles all the time, and it's just so frustrating especially when you consider characters who used to be more or less on the same level on them (like hank pym! who, by the way, has been dead for 6 consecutive years! that would never happen with tony!) or even more popular than him now get streamlined because of the mcu's popularity. by himself, i don't really mind him that much, but with how famous he is now and how large and frankly annoying his fan base is i just... now really do not like the character.

all the people i ship romantically with this character: short list here; reed, because i find their dymanic of reed as someone who does everything for his family and will do everything and anything he can to protect their interests above everyone else but also wants to keep his hands clean and believes, genuinely, in the good of the world, and tony as someone who will do horrendous things in the name of the greater good who always has the bigger picture in mind interesting. i also don't know a lot about it but he seems cute with rhodey? even if i think rhodey deserves a bigger chance to be his own character away from tony as is sometimes denied i can always appreciate a good best friends to lovers dymanic :)

my non romantic otp for this character: um? i honestly don't know 😭 i don't like him enough to say, i guess him n reed again? him n rhodey again? help 😭😭😭

my unpopular opinion of this character: he does not deserve the fame he has. like, i dont mean to sound jealous or whatever but pre 2007 movie he was not the most well liked character or even that popular. like obviously he had fans because he had solo series on and off for a very long time but it just feels SO ridiculous that tony stark has a bigger fandom than the fucking fantastic four. THE FANTASTIC FOUR. marvel's first superhero team, and yet??? like okay. he might have things to offer i don't see. he obviously does, i mean, he got three movies and multiple solo series. but he has most certainly not got enough as a character to overshadow the fantastic four, the x-men, etc and i will never forgive the mcu & mcu fans (and mark miller, he deserves blame too) for making it so. again, by himself he's fine but it is ridiculous to me that a one note white character that appeared in his third film (harley keener or... whatever) has 2000s more fics than THE PROTAGONIST OF INTO THE SPIDERVERSE, MILES MORALES. it is just... so vile and frustrating to me.

one thing i wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon: he didn't exist <3 jk jk um i'm not sure? i guess it would be funny if he was like... stick thin underneath the armour. like idk. he's in the armour 24/7 it makes sense to me for him to be a skinny little nerd under there. like completely fucking small. like you can't be a superhero AND be a billionaire and avoid all those taxes AND run the avengers AND run multiple massive corporations and still work out... even if you take away eating and sleeping there's just not enough time... it would be funny if he was just a tiny little boy underneath all that djndndbf

my otp: gonna say him and rhodey again. like i say, can never resist a good best friends to lovers dymanic.

my cross over ship: jdjshdhdh literally none i don't think about him enough to consider it <3

headcanon fact: 100% think he was the one to offer reed that money to star in a p*rno it's just so funny to me to imagine dhsnndnd

REED RICHARDS

how i feel about this character: HE'S MY BOY! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH! like i guess it's paradoxical considering how similar he is to tony in some ways but man i just love reed so much. i so genuinely think reed richards is what tony stark fans want him to be. like they (mcu fans) make up elaborate headcanons of him being a good dad and an ethical billionaire and its like no that's reed richards? canonically he's gone broke bc he refuses to get money off his inventions... u have the wrong man... anyway he's also an asexual LEGEND i do not take criticism and ofc. autistic icon. literally he's so autistic it makes me <3 i love him dearly.

all the people i ship romantically with this character: it would be easier to list the people i DON'T ship with him lol. sue, obviously, victor ofc, and ben are the big ones, but i just LOVE his dymanic with t'challa and i think they would rlly work it... i also love the idea of him with namor, idk with victor it's just so funny to imagine reed as like. bizarrely attractive to rulers of foreign countries. blackagar faces the same problem <3 i also do believe him n hank pym dated in college for a bit... all their weird little microaggressions towards each other just makes me feel that way... again i do like him w/ tony and i made this weird au where he and emma frost got together which if prompted i WILL talk about. probably. more but yeah <3

my non romantic otp for this character: while i do LOVE them together as lovers i just love. benreed generally <3 like they're LITERALLY besties they love each other sm and i'm tired of pretending they don't????? so many people ignore this relationship and it makes me so sad!!! they're best friends they love each other fight for each other fight with each other theyre literally besties... smh put some respect on the benreed name 😤

my unpopular opinion of this character: i don't think this is that unpopular but it is in certain circles so! i genuinely think reed is the best marvel dad! like you can talk abt others all u want but the fact is that reed is the only character i can think of who has always been there in his kid's lives and has consistently put their needs first. like not saying other characters are bad but even at his worst writing he's always done his best for his kids and certainly has been full of love for them. other characters at their worse have. murdered their own kids <3 genuinely he's the best marvel dad and sure there's not a lot of competition but. yeah <3

one thing i wish would happen/had happened with this character: I WANT A CANONICAL AUTISM DIAGNOSIS NOW. literally he is SO autistic & there are... no big autistic marvel characters! at all! literally none! the closest we have is legion (who was written in an incredible ableist way and autism hasnt been used to describe him in a solid 30 years) and monet (and it turned out it wasn't monet but one of her twin sisters impersonating her :/) so it would just mean so much to see a canonically autistic character like reed who is older & has a wife and kids who he loves and who they love in return on panel. like so much of the rep we DO have is like, young kids or teens and idk an autistic adult would just mean so much to me. especially one like reed who is as selfless & loving as he is.

my otp: tie between doomreed and reedsue! any option that gets this noodle nerd lots of love i'm good for tbh

my cross over ship: him and ralph dibney from dc should date... they have so much in common... stretchy autistic man who's very smart and kind of silly who loves his wife sue who pegs him 🥴 they'd have so much to talk about sjbdhdhd also imagining the look on ben's face realising there's TWO of them is. so funny.

headcanon fact: he's aromantic he's asexual and neither of these stop him from his very meaningful & passionate relationship with his wife :)

assorted character ask game!

#oh boy i do not shut up.#long post #thank you for asking!#esteicy-blog #tony stark #anti tony stark #i guess?? idk dhdjdh #ch: i believe we endure #ask games} answers

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hannigramficrecs · 4 years

Text

Murder Husbands

Nice Day for a Red Wedding by xzombiexkittenx [words: 2,129]

It is a quiet, unimportant morning much like any other, when Will decides he wants to marry Hannibal.

Never In The House by drinkbloodlikewine, whiskeyandspite [words: 4,079]

“You killed a man in our kitchen, Hannibal. Killed him. In our kitchen,” Will repeats again, each word clipped crisp. “Our. Kitchen.” “Will -” “One rule,” he says, laughing dire. “I asked for it not to happen in the house. Hell, even the cellar I’d understand, but Christ, that’s - that’s where the dogs eat!”

Held in the Highest Regard by HigherMagic [words: 12,357]

What happens when a group of serial killers pick the absolute worst targets? Will is already having a pretty rough night, since Hannibal proposed to him and Will said 'No' for reasons he still hasn't quite figured out yet. It's not their fault - they couldn't have known - but sometimes people have to learn lessons the hard way, and Will could definitely use some stress relief.

Before You And After You by ache_for_him, Breakmybones (CarterReid), CarterReid [words: 33,734]

Hannibal and Will had a past: a dirty, bloody, violent past. Will was sure he’d never see his own personal monster again - then he walked into Jack Crawford’s office.

Sweet Misery by everybreathagift [words: 1,272]

Will has no idea what personal space is. Hannibal hopes he never learns.

Bait and Switch by HotMolasses [words: 3,137]

“I told you I was married.” Will said, his eyes dark with lust of another kind now, the kind that made Hannibal’s heart sing. “I introduced you to my husband. But that didn’t seem to bother you.” “I…I…thought, I thought you wanted, um. You were flirting with me!” Hannibal tsked in his ear. “He flirted with the entire crowd all night.” Hannibal said. “Those with class politely stepped away. You, however, went after what was not yours.”

It's A Good Car, Dammit by proser [words: 11,077]

Will never shares with anyone. His thoughts, his possessions, and his life are all his and his alone. Hannibal doesn't take from anyone. He prepares his own food, cleans his own house, and uses his own supplies. So when Hannibal starts driving Will's car everywhere, people are curious. Trust is so rare with these two, and it both makes perfect sense and is utter nonsense that it would reside between them.

The Abyss Smiled Back by HigherMagic [words: 49,768]

Will is missing, presumed dead, which makes it difficult for Jack and Alana to get Hannibal to help them catch another brutal serial killer, given that Hannibal's only condition for helping them is that he gets to see Will.

Deliverance by savethealiens (endoftheline7) [words: 9,843]

Hannibal and Will take their first tentative steps through the door to exploring the physical side of their relationship. Well, Hannibal does. Will practically kicks the door down.

A Darkness Seen and Shared by voxofthevoid [words: 10,344]

What would have happened if Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter first met each other when they were both hunting the same man, for entirely different reasons Attracting the attention of one psychopath is bad enough. Attracting two and for entirely different reasons… now that was just bloody rotten luck.

Table Manners by KareliaSweet [words: 1,510]

In which Will and Hannibal's first time is facilitated by the boorish manners of their dinner guest.

Fruitful by Everett_Harte [words: 11,629]

An AU remix of 'Hannibal'. Where they both meet several years before the show, start dating, and get married. And bang, a lot. Just don't go in the basement.

My Husband by VictoriaAGrey [wprds: 3,563]

“My husband this, my husband that. It’s a wonder Jack hasn’t followed your trail of “my husband”s to our front door.” “He doesn’t know we’re married.” “He’s the only one!” In which Hannibal is a little too smitten and Will figures out Hannibal is That Guy

The Risks of Marrying Will Graham by everybreathagift [words: 1,558]

Will has discovered something about himself. Hannibal would complain, but it's hard to speak with so much... Will.

Edible by shiphitsthefan [words: 4,376]

The temptation to take a taste of Will is almost too great for Hannibal to resist. Good thing he isn't the only one who's hungry.

Everything I Wanted by CarnivalMirai [words: 5,330]

In which the phrase "but Hannibal..." paired with a pout and a Southern drawl is enough to get Will Graham exactly what he wants.

Eurydice by peppermintquartz [words: 11,324]

Will took Hannibal's offer to leave before the dinner with Jack. They are now in a smaller town, and they have new lives. Will can't decide if this is better than before.

Götterdämmerung by Chifuyu [words: 20,925]

Will Graham had not expected to survive the fall. Neither had he expected to find himself on a plane to Italy, with Hannibal Lecter sleeping peacefully by his side. Looking at the man now, with his silver-blond hair fanned across his face, Will wasn't sure if he could rise to this new challenge of not only surviving but living with Hannibal Lecter.

Carnivore, Won't You Come Digest Me? by HigherMagic [words: 64,019]

Role Reversal AU: Following the execution of Garrett Jacob Hobbs, Hannibal is forced to see Doctor Will Graham for a psychiatric evaluation before he can return to the field. Once cleared, Jack insists that Will shadow Hannibal in the hopes of catching the Shrike's copycat. Hannibal has become a master of making sure the FBI stays blind to his extracurricular activities, but Will is a man who sees far too much, and won't be so easily overcome.

Old Dog New Trick by iesika [words: 1,961]

Hannibal is in the doghouse

The Only Place I Can Hold You by snapdragonpop007 [words: 27,865]

“Hello, Jack.” These past two years had not been kind to Will Graham-Lecter. The solitary confinement that Chilton had promised would help had only seemed to make the omega worse. “I was wondering when you were gonna come talk to me.” Will hadn’t looked up from the book in his hands. He was running his fingertips across the pages, and when Jack looked a little closer he could see that it was full of photographs.

The Significant Other: The Will and Hannibal Edition by house_of_lantis [words: 18,431]

After their terrible and abrupt break up, Will and Hannibal attempt to maneuver through their social circles, side step ongoing gossip, and deal with the fact that Will knows the truth of Hannibal. Through impossible odds, Will and Hannibal do find their way to each other again.

Dancing with the Beast by proser [words: 86,347]

In order to catch a mediocre serial killer, Will must pose as Hannibal's date for a series of pretentious social events. Hannibal is dramatic and jealous as ever, and Will is having a great time without the encephalitis. Of course, it's a love story.

There's Pride In Your Mouth by nobetterlove [words: 10,992]

Instead of diving head first into the avoidance pool, Will allows his empathy to grow - taking him further from the constructs of society. He uses the slip into other killer's heads to perfect his craft. As a cover, Will goes through the process of becoming a chef and takes to the profession like it was meant to be.

I Love Our Secrets by sourweather [words: 4,146]

Freddie Lounds knows Will Graham is hiding something, she just doesn't know what. When she tries to snoop around Will's house one snowy night, she finds him in a very compromising position.

The Breath of Sun by Snerp [words: 10,203]

Will and Hannibal met each other one fateful night in New Orleans. They get violently married, consummated in the river of blood and bone, in the flesh of the monsters of men. They are faithfully married, but not many know they are married to one another.

#murder husbands #hannibal au #hannibal fanfic #hannigram fanfic #hannibal fanfiction #mh

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smooshjames · 4 years

Text

forget you not (iii)

uh-oh, uh-oh, here i go again (or: interviews and old friends)

word count: just under 4k

a/n: part 3 of forget you not! i was gonna post this yesterday and then i totally forgot, but it’s here now! once again, the band in this story is based on little mix and i didn’t write any of the songs referenced (this chapter’s songs can be found here, here, here, and here). at the risk of sounding annoying, i have a ko-fi if you’d like to donate, but don’t feel obligated to do so!! if you can’t or don’t want to that’s totally fine, thank you for taking the time to read my work regardless of if you can spend money on it or not. i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: angst (again)

previous parts: one, two

Sunday morning brought with it more Twitter notifications than you’d gotten in a long time. Your alarm went off obscenely early yet again; you had a full day ahead of you. The band was recording a new single which would be released sometime later in the year (the date was still up in the air) and you had decided to do it while you were in LA since you could work with a few producers that you’d never met before.

So, at five o’clock in the morning, you rolled over in your hotel bed and groped around on your nightstand for your phone. You shot upright when you saw how many notifications you had, a bolt of panic going through you at first. What the hell could’ve happened to result in so much activity?

You scrolled through a couple of your mentions before you got to a tweet from some gossip site. There was a photo of you from the concert the night before, probably taken by a fan if the quality was anything to go by. You were mid-note, your mouth open around a word, and it was pretty obvious that you were crying. The tweet read: “‘You never brought me flowers’! Y/N Y/L/N tears up while singing her band’s hit song Towers. Could there be a mystery man that caused her to get so emotional on stage…?”

Carly mumbled a good morning from the bed next to yours. You didn’t reply. You barely even noticed her leaving the main area of the room and heading into the bathroom; you were too busy looking through the replies to the tweet. They were all pretty tame, but you still felt a pit opening up in your stomach. You didn’t have any press that day since you were recording the new single, but the next day was chock-full of interviews and other promotional shit. Your Twitter feed was showing no signs of slowing down, and you really didn't want to have to explain to some random interviewer that you'd been crying because you still weren't over a breakup from five years ago.

“Everything okay?” Carly asked. You looked up, startled, and realized that she had come back from the bathroom. “You seem… distraught.”

You beckoned her over to your bed and showed her the original tweet from the gossip site. Carly gasped and took your phone from you, beginning to scroll through the replies. “Jesus,” she said. “This’ll be a shitstorm.”

“I know,” you replied. You glanced over at the clock on the nightstand and sighed; you needed to get up and ready for the day. Carly gave your phone back to you.

You muted your Twitter notifications for the time being, not wanting to be distracted while you were recording the new single. If an interviewer brought it up you’d just find a way to gloss over it.

You shuffled into the bathroom and did your usual morning routine. You decided to forego makeup for the day since you’d just be sitting around a studio all day, anyway. You dressed in comfortable clothes for the same reason. You figured it would be a little bit hard to focus on recording if you were in heels or tight jeans or something similarly uncomfortable, and you wanted to save your remaining nice clothes for the following day, anyway. Sweatpants and an old t-shirt it was.

Once you were dressed and somewhat ready to face the world, you and Carly grabbed your bags and went out into the hallway. Alexis and Piper were still in their room next door, but they let you and Carly in so that you could all sit and talk while they finished getting ready. Once you were all good to go, you met up with Michelle in the lobby and got into the car that would take you to the studio.

It was a pretty cool space; chill, with couches and chairs spread out around the mixing board where the producers would work their magic. You met the audio engineers as you were walking in, and everyone shook hands and went in to get to work. They seemed nice, and they definitely had a lot of cool ideas for what might enhance the song’s sound. You and the rest of the band had already worked out the lyrics and a basic melody, but the recording technicians had some ideas to really make the song pop.

The day passed in a blur of singing and listening and revising, and then repeating the process all over again. By the time you left, the sun was touching the western horizon and the song was almost finished; just a few final edits before it would be perfect and ready for release. “We’ll get it to Michelle in the next couple of days,” one of the producers said.

You were exhausted as you collapsed back into your hotel bed, but it was a good sort of exhaustion; the kind of sated tiredness that comes with a good day’s work.

You were flying so high, in fact, that you’d almost forgotten about all the Shayne drama. You fell asleep with a slight smile on your face, and your sleep was peaceful and dreamless.

***

That pleasant warmth of a job well done was ripped from you almost as soon as the next day began. Your first interview was with a local radio station, and it went alright for about five minutes; you exchanged pleasantries with the hosts, Joe and Maggie, and sat down between Carly and Alexis for your interview.

The hosts did their intro, introduced the band, and explained that you were currently in LA on the west coast branch of your current tour. Once that was done and the band had all said hello, Maggie turned to you, and the smile she flashed you was… strangely apologetic.

And then you remembered. Shayne, Towers, crying onstage. That apologetic smile hit you so fast it practically gave you whiplash.

“So, ladies,” Maggie said. “There was some interesting news about your concert on Saturday. You guys sang your song Towers -- beautiful song, by the way -- and Y/N… there were a couple of tears there, huh? Anything you can tell us about that? Is everything okay?”

From beside you, Carly opened her mouth, probably to say that you didn’t want to talk about it, but you stopped her with a hand on her arm. Her willingness to defend you meant a lot, but if you didn’t address it, it would just keep getting brought up. At least if you answered this you could do some damage control. “Yeah,” you said. “Um, I actually lived in LA for a while before meeting these lovely ladies and starting up the band with them. And while I was here, I was in a pretty serious relationship with a guy -- I won’t say his name for privacy’s sake -- and we broke up. I guess being back in LA and singing that song just… brought back some memories. But that was all; no new mystery man or anything like that, I’m afraid.”

There, that was a good enough answer. It held enough of the truth that you felt confident they wouldn’t press you for any more information, but you hadn’t told them the exact real reason. They didn’t know he was in the room, and they didn’t know who he was.

Maggie smiled and nodded, and Joe asked another question about the band that was unrelated to your love life, which brought a wave of relief sweeping over you. You smiled and laughed through the rest of the interview, chiming in with answers whenever it felt appropriate, and then said your goodbyes as the hosts transitioned into the next song

All things considered, that hadn’t been so bad.

Once you were out of the radio station headquarters and into your car, Michelle got back to business. “Alright, next up… another interview which won’t be broadcasted live. You guys are performing Think About Us while you’re there. Then we have an hour for lunch. After lunch, you’ll film a video with Smosh, and then another radio interview after that, and then you’re free for the day. Assuming everything goes to plan.”

You nodded and settled into easy conversation with the girls during the car ride to your next venue. You were pretty excited to film with Smosh; you hadn’t seen any of their recent stuff, but you were familiar with them in that you had heard of them and you knew they primarily made comedic content. You figured that would probably mean it would be a fun time to film there.

The next interview went just fine, and the performance went even better. For lunch, you and the rest of the team got food at a cute little bistro near Smosh’s offices.

When you arrived after your lunch break you were greeted by Ian Hecox, the president of the company. He was super friendly, greeting you all with handshakes and a warm smile. Once you’d all been introduced he began to lead you through the office space, explaining that you’d be recording an episode of their ongoing Try Not to Laugh series. As he launched into an explanation of the rules, a hand on your shoulder made you tense and whip around, surprised. This brought you face to face with…

“Damien?”

Your eyes widened almost comically as you saw the man standing before you. He looked a little different since you’d seen him last; his hair was longer and streaked with blue, and he carried himself a little taller, a little prouder. But he still had that same boyish smile, those same brown eyes. He was still Damien, and he was here.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said.

You laughed, shocked and joyful, and threw your arms around his shoulders, practically launching yourself onto him. He hugged you back tightly. When you pulled back, you punched him jovially on the arm.

“It’s so good to see you!” you said, a little breathless. “What are you doing here?

“I work here. I’ll actually be filming with you guys this afternoon,” he replied

“No way, that’s crazy!” You leaned back and perched your hands on his hips, surveying him, half disbelieving.

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak again, but Ian’s voice interrupted your reunion. “You two, uh… you two know each other?”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. “I knew Damien… God, ages ago. We were really good friends.”

Carly’s eyes now widened in recognition. She smiled at Damien and raised her hand in greeting to him.

“Hey, Carly,” he said. He put his hand on your forearm and you turned back to face him again. The look on his face made your smile fade a little bit; he seemed nervous and a little sad. “Y/N, I should warn you --”

“Holy shit!” another voice interrupted you two, this one distinctively female. And also… strangely familiar. You turned toward the source and what you saw felt like two consecutive throat punches.

Courtney, Shayne’s new girlfriend, was standing across the room. She seemed to have just entered, and judging from the wide-eyed look on her face, she was just as surprised as you were. Standing directly next to her, staring at the floor by your feet… was Shayne himself.

You heard Damien mutter something under his breath, but your brain didn’t fully process what he said. You were too busy looking at Courtney and Shayne and wondering why the hell they were here. Before you could say anything, though, Ian stepped forward.

“Sweet, we’re all here,” he said. “Y/N, Alexis, Piper, Carly, this is Shayne and Courtney. Shayne’s gonna be filming with you guys this afternoon --” of course he was “-- and Courtney is --”

“Your biggest fan!” the girl interrupted him, and even despite the resentment you couldn't help feeling toward her, you had to admit that she was really sweet. She seemed like someone you might be really good friends with were it not for the fact that she was dating your ex, which made you feel even worse; she hadn’t done anything to deserve your hatred, but here you were hating her anyway. “You probably don’t remember, but I was at the concert on Saturday. It was super good, you guys crushed it.”

“I remember,” you said, because you didn’t know when to shut up. Courtney’s jaw dropped onto the floor. “Yeah, I remember. You guys came together, didn’t you?”

The accusation was clear, at least to those in the know; Carly went pale, Piper inhaled sharply, Alexis started coughing, Damien shuffled his feet nervously, and Shayne opened his mouth to speak. Before he could say whatever he wanted to, though, he seemed to think better of it and closed his mouth again.

Courtney didn’t seem to pick up on anything unusual, though, because she just nodded happily and went on talking.

“Yeah, we did!” she said, slinging her arm around Shayne’s shoulders. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve said that he stiffened as she pulled him into her side. His face tightened into a grimace, but you couldn't possibly imagine why. It was obvious that they were together. He didn’t need to hide that for your sake. “I was so fucking pumped when you guys sang Towers, you don’t even understand. That’s one of my favorite songs by you guys and you crushed it, especially you Y/N. Your part always hits a little different for me.”

Yeah, you and me both, you thought. But you smiled and nodded happily. “I��m glad you liked it!” you said. You turned back to the band and made eye contact with Michelle. She raised an eyebrow. You inclined your head just slightly toward Ian. She nodded; she knew what you needed.

“I hate to interrupt,” she said, “but we should probably get this show on the road. The girls have got a packed schedule today.”

“Of course!” Ian said. “Courtney, maybe you can harass them more if they have time when we’re done filming. But for now, Shayne, Damien, ladies, follow me.”

You hurried to catch up to the rest of the band. Carly and Alexis fell into step with you while Piper started walking behind you, obviously trying to shield you from Shayne’s gaze. You had another moment of profound gratitude for these girls; they took care of you when no one else would, they loved you when you couldn’t love yourself, and they always seemed to know what you needed without having to ask. That shared strength and love was one of the reasons the band had stayed together for so long.

Impressively enough, you managed to keep your shit together until you got to Carly’s. You didn’t bother texting her to let her know that you were coming. She’d let you in if she was home, and if she wasn't home, you knew her building code and where she kept her spare key.

Luckily, she was home; she let you up to her apartment without question.

Only once you’d crossed the threshold of your best friend’s apartment did you allow yourself to cry. You crumpled like a piece of paper against her and let out a sob so loud it bordered on a scream. Carly maneuvered you back onto her couch, sat down with you, and held you until you could talk. You were still crying when you pulled away from her, but you’d gotten out the full-body sobs.

“Honey, what happened?” Carly asked. You could hear the concern in her voice; it was rare that you showed up at her place unannounced, and even rarer that you started the visit by scream-crying into her shirt. She probably thought somebody was dead.

“Shayne got home from work and ended things,” you said. “Just… no warning, no ceremony, nothing. Three days ago he asked me my fucking ring size and today he told me that we aren’t working anymore. And I don’t understand because I thought he was happy! I thought we were good! I thought that we’d be fucking picking a date for our wedding, not for when I’m gonna come move out the rest of my shit!”

Before Carly could respond, your phone vibrated. You took it out and couldn’t help your tearful, almost-manic laugh at what you saw there; a text from Shayne, apologizing, asking if you would come home and talk. You went to reply, but Carly grabbed your phone and held it away from you before you could.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, lunging for your phone. She was an expert at keep-away, though, and you couldn’t even get close. You cursed yourself for all the nights out where you asked her to keep your phone away from you if you got too drunk. “Carly, give me my phone!”

“Promise me you won’t text him back and you can have it,” she said.

“That’s ridiculous! Of course I’m gonna text him back!”

“Is that a good idea?” she asked. She cocked an eyebrow. “If you can honestly tell me that you think it’s a good idea for you to say anything to him right now, I’ll give you your phone back.”

That knocked some sense into you. Immediately, the fight left your body and you sat back on the couch. She studied you for a moment and then leaned forward to set the phone on the coffee table. When you didn’t go for it, she relaxed and leaned back.

“Sorry,” you said. “I’m all over the place.”

“I know. It’s okay. That’s what I’m here for, right? Now, walk me through what happened.”

“He came home and he was being weird, and he was like ‘hey can we talk’ and then he basically just said that it isn’t working anymore and that he can’t be with me. He didn’t give me a reason besides that and I didn’t ask him for one. I just packed a bag and came here.”

Carly nodded, considering. “That’s really fucking weird.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long,” you said. At her shocked expression, you shrugged. “I’ve always said that he’s out of my league, right? It was only a matter of time before he got tired of me and realized he could do better. He probably realized that if we got married, he’d have a hell of a harder time getting away from me.”

“Were it not for the state of emotional peril you’re in right now, I would slap you,” Carly said. You let out a startled laugh; of all the things she could've said, you weren't expecting that. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say, and I’ve known you for a long time. If that was true -- which it isn’t, by the way, you’re the sexiest, most beautiful, smartest, funniest, greatest person I know -- it wouldn’t have taken him three years to ‘get bored.’ This is one of the dumber stunts he’s pulled, which is saying something. But this isn’t your fault. He’s the asshole here, regardless of his reasoning. If you want to talk to him and try to work things out, that’s your business. But whether or not things work out, this will always be on him. And I’ll be here every step of the way, buttercup.”

You nodded gratefully, even though you didn't believe her. You’d never been good enough for Shayne. This was always inevitable. Still, you put on a brave face for Carly. Better she didn’t know what you were really thinking. “You’re right,” you said. “Thanks, Carly.”

You could tell from the look on her face that she didn’t completely believe you, which wasn’t surprising. Carly always knew when you were lying. But she also knew when to let an issue lie. “Good,” she said. “Now, Bridesmaids or Legally Blonde?”

Ian led the group to a colorful sound stage. To the right was a partition, and behind it a bunch of strange props and costume pieces. To the left was a single stool, a piano, and some bongos.

The room was swarming with activity as crew people moved around getting everything set up and ready to go. Shayne and Damien led you over to the set. “Y/N, why don’t you sit in the stool for the intro?” Shayne said, the first words he’d said to you since you had broken up. His voice was professional and upbeat, betraying almost no emotion. “And then I’ll stand to your right, Damien will be behind me, and the rest of the band can be to your left.”

“Sounds fine to me,” you said, and you hoped your voice sounded less forced to him than it did to you. You sat on the stool, glad to be off your feet; your balance was suddenly fucked now that Shayne was next to you, and you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself upright if you tried to stand for much longer.

Shayne went to go check something with a cameraperson, and the girls formed another huddle around you. Carly stood right in front of you, Piper to your immediate left, and Alexis just behind you. “Are you alright?” Carly asked.

“I’m sorry,” Damien said, cutting into the conversation before you could even think about how to answer Carly’s question. He was standing to your right, though he was a little farther away than your bandmates were. “I wanted to let you know before you saw him. I thought maybe it would be easier that way.”

“It’s okay, Dames. It’s not your fault,” you said. You reached over to squeeze his bicep, hoping to ease his mind a little bit, but the guilt didn’t leave his face.

“How did you know we would be here today?” Carly asked. You gave her a stern look, but she either didn’t see it or just didn’t care.

Damien fidgeted, nervous. You didn’t blame him; Carly was a force of nature when she wanted to be. “Um,” he said, “what do you mean?

“I mean that you had enough foresight to know that you could surprise Y/N and warn her about Shayne. So you knew we would be here.”

“We get a filming schedule at the beginning of the week,” Damien said. You looked at Carly as if to say There, see? A perfectly good reason. Now back off and let the poor boy breathe. But then Damien continued: “and Shayne told me about seeing Y/N on Saturday, so --”

He cut himself off, clamping his mouth shut as he seemed to realize what he’d said. Your gaze flew from Carly to Damien. For a moment, you felt thoroughly like a middle schooler; the he-said-she-said was something you thought would get left in sixth grade, but here you were nonetheless. Still, you couldn’t help the way your heart rate accelerated at Damien’s words. If Shayne had mentioned you specifically…

“What?” you asked.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up. You couldn’t get your hopes up. Shayne mentioning you didn’t mean anything. Besides, he had a new girlfriend now, anyway. He’d probably just done it since you and Damien were friends before shit hit the fan.

Damien didn’t get the chance to answer your question before Shayne returned from his conversation with the cameraperson. You were pretty sure he knew that you guys had been talking about him; it was pretty obvious by the way the conversation stopped short as soon as he got within earshot. But if he knew, he didn’t comment on it. He just walked over and took his place next to you.

Carly flashed him a look colder than the south pole and moved to stand on your other side, and then she plastered the brightest smile you’d ever seen on her face. You did the same.

“Alright, everybody ready?” one of the crew people asked. You nodded your assent. “Three, two, and… action!”

#shayne topp x reader #shayne topp #eliza.txt #forget you not

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 4 years

Text

Summer Love: Chapter One

A/N: I’m pretty sure I just woke up this morning with this idea of ‘what if I did a high school AU Gerard x Reader at an artsy summer camp?’ so yeah, here you go. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader (High school AU) Word count: 2687

After a long and harsh school year you were finally able to go and experience your favorite part of summer: sleep away camp.

Having just wrapped up your sophomore year filled with honors and AP classes amongst electives and extracurriculars which were all art, you were ready as ever to get a break from the hectic schedule of school. And sleep away camp meant just that.

Camp Peterson was one of the elite camps in Jersey. It specialized in students who excelled in art, and helped them expand their skills greatly. This was perfect for you with your love of painting and sketching.

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Mel?” You asked, whipping around despite the bags you were holding. There was your purple haired, nose pierces, best sleep away camp friend who you had known since sixth grade. She squealed, running up to you and giving you an anxious hug.

“Ugh, I missed you!” She smiled.

“I missed you too.” You hugged back.

“Damn,” She said, looking you up and down and pulling away, “You glew up.” “I did?” You asked. Sure, you had lost a few pounds, and cut and dyed your hair (bleached it just because), but you didn’t think it was a whole glow up situation.

“Are you kidding? I could barely recognize you!” You smiled.

“Thanks.” You said. She helped your carry your bags to cabin 17, the one you had been staying in for all your years. Setting your bags down on your side of the room by your twin bed, you looked around. It hadn’t changed a bit.

Because you and she were frequent campers who came every year the dean let you two keep your cabin and decorate it, promising that after your senior year you would come back and take it all down.

“C’mon, let’s go see the boys.” Mel said, looking at you.

“But I haven’t put my stuff away-” “So, we have another like hour to do that.” You sighed, going along with her to Cabin 18, your next door neighbors. You two ran up the small wooden steps and knocked on the door. Immediately, Mikey answered.

“Y/N? Mel?” He asked, looking at you two, “It’s been so long!” He smiled, giving you each a hug.

“Hey Mikes.” Mel said, “How are you?” “A lot better now that my best friends are here.” “Hey! I though I was your best friend!” You heard Frank walk up to the door, “Oh, hey fuckers.” He smiled at you two.

“Shut up Frank.” Mel fired back, “You’re a bitch.” “Well you’re a whore.” He said, looking at you right after, “Seems like nothing has changed.” But then he looked at you, “Oh, wait, Y/N got hot.” You lightly blushed. “But you’re still so shy and innocent. We’ll fix that, don’t you worry.” The boys let you into their cabin where you each sat down on a bean bag. There room was filled with posters of bands like The Smashing Pumpkins and The Misfits, and included Mikey’s old CD player which you guys would use almost every night.

“Nothing’s changed around here, huh?” You asked.

“You ask that every year and the answer is always no.” Frank responded. You shrugged. “Wait, actually something has changed.” He looked to Mikey to continue. Both you and Mel furrowed your brows.

“Oh yeah, my brother Gerard?” You both nodded knowing Mikey had talked about him before, “He’s here this year. He sobered up and so Mom let him come.” “Oh, cool.” Mel said.

“He’s in Ray’s cabin.” Frank added.

“I thought Bob was in Ray’s cabin?” “He couldn’t come this year.” Mikey explained, “Some sort of family vacation.” “For six weeks?” “Dunno,” Mikey concluded, “That’s what he told me.”

“We should probably go check on them.” Frank added. You all nodded.

The four of you walked out of the cabin and to number 9, Ray’s and now Gerard’s. Frank knocked on the door, no answer. He knocked again, this time harder. “Just a minute!” You heard Ray yell before coming a few seconds later and greeting you all with a smile.

“If you two were fucking in there already-” Frank said and Ray rolled his eyes.

“Grow up.” He told Frank, letting you guys in. You noticed a black haired boy sitting on one of the beds, what looked to be a comic book in hand. He was focused on the pages, while you were focused on his ruffled hair and strong jawline that shaped into a U. His hair went right above his shoulder, ruffled all over the place.

“Hey, Gee.” You heard Mikey greet. So this was Gerard.

“Oh, hey.” He smiled, looking up.

“These are the people we hang out with.” Ray began, going down the line, “Frank, Melanie, or Mel, and Y/N, or Y/N/N.” You nodded and smiled as he looked over all of you. You noticed how his hazel eyes grazed over you a little longer, or maybe you were just hallucinating.

“Wait, Y/N/N.” Ray took your out of your trance.

“Hm?” You asked, looking up at him. “You got-” He couldn’t find the right word.

“Hot?” Frank finished, “Yeah, we all know.” Ray rolled his eyes.

“That wasn’t exactly the word but you look more mature.” Ray concluded.

“Thanks.” You said, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Also you’re hair, it looks awesome.”

“Thanks.” You replied to that too.

“Hi, I’m Gerard.” He reached his hand out which you shook, “But you can call me Gee.” “I’m Y/N,” You smiled, “But you can call me Y/N/N.”

He went around and introduced himself before Mel and you headed back to put your stuff away. You placed all your clothes neatly into the drawers, hanging up some of your Christmas lights around the room. Right as you were finishing up and putting your duffel bag under your bed, you heard a knock at the door before Frank came barging in and ran to your freshly made bed, crashing on it. “Really?” You asked. “I just made that.” “So?” He asked, “I’m just making it more comfy.” “Sure you are.” The other three came in too, Mikey sitting on the edge of Mel’s bed and the Ray sitting on one of the beanbags. You noticed Gerard looking at your filled bookshelf, which was a mixture of classics and comic books. Everyone began talking but you decided to go and greet him.

“Hey, Gee.” You smiled and stood next to him, he looked up at you and smiled.

“Hey, Y/N/N.” He replied.

“What’re you looking at?” You lightly laughed, knowing he was obviously looking at your books.

“The amount of books you have.” He said, “And comics too.” “I do have quite the collection.” He smiled at you.

“You have Watchmen?” He looked at your complete collection on the top shelf. You nodded.

“Yeah, I do.” You said, “You seem surprised.” “No it’s just I um, I-” “You wouldn’t think a girl would read Watchmen?” “Well um,” He said, “I mean, yeah um- that makes me sound like a sexist asshole.” “No, it’s alright.” You assured him. “I don’t know that many girls who read it either.”

“It’s my favorite series. Alan Moore is just so good.” “It is a really good series,” You smiled. “I’ve always preferred V for Vendetta, by him at least. But I have a real soft spot for Black Widow comics.” He nodded. “She’s just a badass, ya know?” “She is.” He smiled.

“Awwww, look at you two.” You heard Frank. Both of you looked back to see everyone in the room smirking and looking at you guys. “If that isn’t love then I don’t know what is.” “Oh, shut up Iero.” You snapped. You wouldn’t consider yourself in love with Gerard considering you two hadn’t spent more than five minutes together, but you had to admit he was pretty attractive. “What time is it?” You asked out loud. Ray looked at his watch.

“5:56.” He replied.

“So dinner starts in four minutes.” Mel said, “We should probably go.” The six of you headed out of your cabin and down a few trails to the cafeteria.

“What’s usually for dinner?” Gerard asked you, walking beside you.

“First night’s usually pizza. It’s halfway decent. The rest of the food is shit but we live.” He nodded.

“But Y/N’s rich parents always ship us snacks.” Frank interrupted. You tensed feeling extremely uncomfortable at the topic that was brought up. Your parents were wealthy and you were extremely lucky and grateful, but you hated being associated with your family’s wealth and everyone in the group knew that.

“C’mon Frank.” Mel stuck up for you, “Just be grateful.”

You all made your way to the crowded hall, which was filled with primarily people who you had seen before, with a few new faces here and there. You all stood in line, grabbing the paper plates you had and grabbing your choice between Coke and water, you went with water. One by one you got two slivers of pizza on your plate, and sat at your traditional table in the corner. “So, let’s go over the groups.” Mel told Gerard. “This is probably the best time to do so.” “Most people here are nice. As long as you’re nice to them they’ll be nice back. The only people you don’t want to be near are the one’s in the center table.” She pointed, “They don’t have a group name because those are stupid, but-” “They’re a group of bitches.” Frank interrupted and Mel shot him a look, “Tell me I’m wrong.” She rolled her eyes.

“They’re just privileged white kids who are absolute pricks.” She sighed, “Just try to stay away from them. If you stay near us there’s a good chance we can help you if they decide to pick on you.”

“But they probably won’t,” Mikey began, “Because last year Y/N exposed their ring leader, Lacey, of getting a boob job in front of the entire camp.” Everyone snickered as I smirked.

“That was worth getting a three day detention.”

“Hell yeah it was.” Frank added on.

“Hello everyone!” You heard Jasper, the camp director shouted. You all sighed.

“Who’s that?” Gerard whispered.

“The director, Jasper. He’s gonna do his stupid yearly speech.” He nodded. You all sat back ready to endure his ongoing words about how great camp was, and all the fun, and responsibilities. Basically the bullshit.

“Basic rules,” He finished up, “No fighting. No drugs or alcohol,” Jasper looked at Frank, “That includes any tobacco products. And no bullying.” He finished up. “Now have fun!” Everyone clapped. The six of you got up, throwing out your plates and heading back to your cabins.

“The spot?” Mikey asked and you all nodded. You and Mel went in, Mel grabbing her backpack.

“Rose all day baby.” She smiled, slipping a few bottles and cups in. You rolled your eyes, “Oh c’mon, ease up a bit.” “I’m just not big on alcohol.” You said. You two got up and walked through the various patches of forest and trails, a flashlight in hand before you reached the spot, a little hangout area you found under an old bridge on the camp ground. You saw the four boys were already there.

“And here comes the ladies.” Frank sighed, lighting a cigarette, “Late as always.” You flipped him off. You took a seat on one of the wood benches next to Gerard, after climbing over a few rocks in the water to get to the area.

“Who wants a drink?” Mel asked. Everyone said yes, besides you and Gerard.

“Buzzkills.” Frank said.

“Hey.” You snapped, “Some people choose not to break rules. It’s a personal choice.” You looked at Gerard who nodded. Everyone began talking about some topic which you didn’t get invested in. You looked at Gerard who you could tell was not into it either. “Here,” You told him, grabbing his hand. He looked up at you. “Follow me.” He got up as you led him hand in hand to the other side of the bridge where you took your shoes off putting them in the water. Gerard followed. “It’s really beautiful here.” You said, looking up at the clear night sky.

“Yeah it is.” He agreed.

“So, why did you decide to come here?” You asked him.

“Well, Mikey would talk about it all the time. He just loves it here. I wanted to go for so long.” He explained, “But I was an alcoholic. So my parents eventually got me sober.” He finished.

“I don’t think your parents did.” You said, “You got yourself sober.” “Well, kinda.” He replied, “They just really pressured me to.” You nodded.

“Are you happier now?” You asked him, “Sorry if that was too much of a personal question.”

“No it’s alright.” He said, “Not too many people talk to me about it, they think it’s kinda weird. But yeah, I am happier now.” “That’s good, right?” He nodded.

“Yeah, it’s nice to be able to remember things.” He lightly laughed. “What about you?” He asked.

“What?” “What’s so fucked up about you?” He said, “And don’t lie and tell me nothing, because we’re all a little fucked up.”

“I don’t know.” You said, “I’m depressed. Which I guess in the grand scheme of things it isn’t the worst thing ever. Everyone in the group knows it, but I’ve been doing pretty alright for a while. Art’s helped me a lot.” “That’s good.” He said, “I’ve suffered with depression, art’s helped me too.”

“So what are you most excited for here?” You changed the subject. “I guess just meeting new people, like you.” He smiled, “So far that’s worked.” You nodded. “What’s something you always look forward to?”

“Basically hanging out.” You smiled, “We do this most nights, and when it rains we all go into Mel’s and my cabin and share stupid scary stories.” “Sounds fun.” “It is.” You said, “You’re obligated to come though, so you should see.” “I’m obligated?” He teased, “And how am I obligated.” “Well you’re apart of the group now,” You began, “And where else do you think you would fit in here?” “Ouch, that kinda hurt.” You both lightly laughed. “But you make a fair point.” “Oh I know I do.” You playfully nudged him.

“C’mon you two, we need to head back before it gets too dark.” Ray turned a corner of one of the pillars. You both got up walking over to where everyone else was.

The crew and you two walked back, you and Gerard trailing behind a bit to start up some small conversation. “What’s your first class tomorrow?” You asked.

“Sketching, I think. 10 am.” “Same.” You smiled. “What’s after that?” “I think I have writing and then cartooning.” “Oh cool,” You said, “I have photography and then painting.”

“That’s cool.” He replied. You two had made your way back to main camp, you and Melanie said bye to everyone and went back to your room.

“So, you and Gerard seem pretty cozy.” Mel smiled, as you crashed on your bed. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh fuck off.” “So you like him?” She smirked.

“I’m fond of him.” You corrected, “But he is attractive.”

“So are you gonna go after him?” “Probably not,” You sighed, “I mean he’s what, going into his senior year? He’s a year older and I’m sure he has a girlfriend.” “Have you asked him?” “No.” You replied honestly.

“Then ask him.” “That would make it so obvious.” “Then ask Mikey.” “Maybe.” You said, “But then Mikey would know.” “I think all of us already know.”

“Plus he’s way out of my league.” “Did you forget that you got hot?” She asked you, “Like really hot?” You huffed.

“I just don’t see it working.” “You haven’t even known him for 24 hours, and now you don’t think a relationship with him would work?” She asked, “You have six weeks to make something work with him and start a summer romance. Might as well do it early on.” “Shut up.” You sighed, “I’m going to bed.”

#gerard way x reader #gerard way #mcr gerard #my chemical gee #my chemical gerard #mcr #mcr fanfiction #mcr x reader #my chem #my chemical romance #my chemical romance x reader

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sinemoras09 · 4 years

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solatium excerpt: personality

More ficlets: Obito and Kakashi fight over barbecue. Obito deals with Madara, and then zombies. Kakashi makes fun of Obito’s wardrobe. Rin and Obito share an inside joke. Rin helps Obito after a bad day. Fluff and crack. @innovativestruggles

(Series of unrelated ficlets. Obito is Hokage. Rin is resurrected and living with him. Madara is married to fem Hashi and has a boatload of kids. Ficlet #7 references the marriage certificate drabble.)

----

She was Obito’s guardian spirit, but sometimes Kakashi would pray in front of her headstone, and Rin would feel her consciousness being ripped away from him. All at once she'd be in the middle of a bright, grassy field, the sun shining on the graveyard while Kakashi laid flowers and an ero book as an offering. "It's a new volume, Rin," Kakashi would say, because she was the one who read ero books first, and he'd set the book down in front of her grave.

Rin would look around and see blue skies and white clouds, birds singing overhead. And then she'd feel Obito calling to her again, and all at once she'd be transported, find herself in dark spaces, cold air and claustrophobic cliffs, Obito having killed another person, blood dripping down his arm as he looked up at the slate gray sky, the rain sluicing down his mask like tears. She followed him all those years because he always spoke to her - when he felt lonely, when he felt uncertain and overwhelmed - and even if she’d start to fade or drift away, she'd feel her consciousness being called toward him again.

They were transported to the gravity dimension. Rin watched, horror-struck, as Obito and Kakashi both fell to their knees, unable to stand up.

A chakra rod shot through the air, moving as if being dragged through thick molasses. She saw Kakashi and Obito running. At least let me be a shield for them! If I could just make it in time--

Rin could hear their prayers.

Her consciousness spread far, able to reach both Kakashi and Obito from across the gravity field. Her hands clasped both of theirs, and she made contact - her spirit, which was weightless and formless, suddenly had heft in this dimension, and as soon as she grabbed their hands she ran, yanking them toward the center, helping them.

I'm going to see my friends again, Rin thought. The chakra rods were hurtling towards them. I'm going to see my friends again and I could talk to both of them!

But the rod heading toward Kakashi started to swirl, and Rin could hear Obito's thoughts, just like she always did.

Rin. This time, when I get there...let's spend some time alone together, just you and me....

The rod smashed into Obito's stomach.

Kakashi would only be in the way. I'm leaving him here.

*****

The three of them are sitting over barbecue, Kakashi in charge of the meat because Obito kept taking it out too early. "That's not ready to eat, you need to let it cook more," Kakashi says, and Rin giggles as Obito grumbles that Kakashi is being a pain in the ass.

The meat sizzles. Rin picks up her glass, taking a drink of water when Kakashi asks, "Rin. Was that really you back there, in the gravity dimension?"

Obito looks up. Kakashi doesn't look at either of them, concentrating on flipping over the pieces of meat with his chopsticks. "Kaguya had launched chakra rods toward Naruto and Sasuke, and Obito and I were trying to get there in time to block them--"

"I was there, I know," Rin says. Kakashi sits back, surprised.

"Really?" Kakashi says.

"You two weren't going to make it on time, and all of a sudden my spirit had weight. I grabbed you both and pulled you there."

"Amazing." Kakashi looks at Rin, awestruck. "So you really were following him?"

"Mostly. Sometimes I'd hear you talking to me, though, and then I'd find myself back in Konoha again." Rin picks up her chopstick, then turns a piece of meat in front of her. She frowns, thoughtfully. "It was always such a change," Rin says. "Konoha was so bright, every time I'd find myself there, I'd think maybe I was in paradise. But then Obito would call to me, and it'd be like we were underground again, everything was so dark and cold and lonely. I wished I could actually be there with him."

Obito gives her a small smile. Rin rubs his arm, scooting next to him.

"Anyway, yeah," Rin says. She plucks out a piece of meat. "That was me."

"Amazing," Kakashi says again. Obito's eyes widen.

"Oi! The meat's burning!" Obito starts pulling the meat up with his chopsticks. "Bakakashi, this is why you shouldn't be in charge of grilling--"

"Wha- if you were in charge everything we'd eat would be raw!"

"Why does anyone have to be in charge anyway?" Rin says, because she was actually paying attention to the grill, her meat is cooked perfectly.

*****

If people didn't know any better - if they hadn't known Kakashi and Obito when they were kids, like Rin did - they would assume that Kakashi is the laid back one, while Obito is the serious one.

Rin watches, growing more and more amused as they slowly revert back to their old personalities, arguing over something as stupid as barbecue.

"No, Obito, it's not done yet, put it back," Kakashi says. He flips over the menu, showing them. "The rules here say you need to let it cook for at least three minutes--"

"You cook it until it's not red, I don't like eating meat that's turned into jerky," Obito says. Kakashi huffs.

"We listen to you, and we're all going to get food poisoning," Kakashi says. "It even says right here that--"

"That's just a guideline," Obito says.

"What?" Kakashi says.

"It's an approximation. The heat varies. The conductive capabilities of the grill can change. Also, the meat's not red." Obito plucks the piece out with his chopsticks.

Kakashi's eyes widen. "Baka! There's still blood on it!"

"It's medium rare."

"You order steak medium rare, you idiot, you're gonna make yourself sick!"

Rin starts giggling. The two men turn.

"Obito, you see that?" Kakashi says. "Rin is laughing because you're being stupid."

Obito grumbles, "You're the one who's stupid."

"You're both stupid," Rin says. She picks up her chopsticks. "I'm putting meat on the grill."

*****

Even with chaperones, Madara still causes problems.

"We're so sorry, Obito-san! But Madara-ojiichan acted so fast, we couldn't stop him, dattebayo!" Naruto says. Gai hangs his head.

"I am ashamed to say it, but even my Dynamic Entry of Heart-Pounding Love wasn't enough to stop him."

"It's alright, Gai, Naruto," Obito says. He glares at Madara. "This isn't your fault." Madara rolls his eyes extravagantly.

"To think that I have sunk so low as to be lectured by my idiot apprentice. There is nothing to talk about. There were no casualties," Madara says. "The only reason why I've deigned to come here is because of Hashirama."

Hashi elbows him in the ribs. Madara sniffs arrogantly.

"Madara: why the hell would you perform a fire jutsu of that size and magnitude in the middle of an elementary school playground? And then activate your Susanoo and then forcibly draw out and ride around on the Kyuubi?" In fact, there were multiple reports of Madara rampaging at the playground, riding on the Kyuubi with Naruto getting dragged along in the background. Madara shrugs.

"The idiot behind me makes it so easy, you should be talking to him," Madara says.

"Why?" Obito says. Madara crosses his arms.

"Uchiha Madara is not just some house husband."

"Oh god," Hashi says.

"That pissant father needed to be taught a lesson, and so I taught it well. He now knows never to cross me."

Hashi clarifies. "His kids were hogging the swings," Hashi says.

"This was over swings?" Obito says.

"A territorial dispute that could only be solved by a display of force." Madara crosses his arms. "I believe I schooled him thoroughly."

"I'm so sorry. They've been fighting over playground equipment for weeks, I didn't think it'd go this far, otherwise I would have gone with him," Hashi says.

Obito sighs. "At the very least, it appears nothing was damaged--"

"Of course nothing was damaged. I was in complete control at all times. And yet you call me in here like some apprehensive school marm."

*****

"Hokage-sama! We have a problem!"

"What is it?" Obito says. The shinobi rests his hands on his knees, breathless.

"There are zombies that have taken over the civilian quarter!"

"What?" Obito says.

*****

"I'm so sorry!" Hashi says. Their neighbors are cowering in Madara's Susanoo while Hashi tries sequestering the undead nin she tried bringing back. "It worked with Izuna and Rin, I thought I could bring everybody back--"

"Raaaaar!" Zombies burst through the fence, making their neighbors scream. Madara knocks them down with his battle fan.

Obito stares. "How many did you resurrect?" he says. Hashi thinks.

"Um, I think the entire shinobi army? And I tried resurrecting Minato's wife, too."

"Ahhhhh!" another zombie says. Madara kicks him in the throat and punches another one behind him.

*****

"YOSH! Who's ready to kick some zombie ass, dattebayo!"

Ino shrieks. "It's Neji! Naruto-kun! Neji's a zombie!"

Minato pushes Kushina back, his hand flat against her forehead. "This is bad," Minato says. Kushina flails, then bares her teeth at him. "This is really bad."

In the middle of it all, Uchiha Itachi stands in the civilian quarter, cracks in his skin and his sclera blackened, looking thoroughly confused.

Sasuke gasps, "Nii-san! You're not a zombie?!"

"No, I am merely undead." Itachi frowns, looking at the chaos around him. "Is the war still ongoing? Are they attacking the village?"

"RAWR!" a zombie smashes through the glass window of a cake shop, then begins stuffing its face with pastry.

"Nevermind, Little Brother, I think I know the answer."

*****

Obito walks through the village, assessing the damage. What was once the civilian square is now a bombed-out waste, buildings crumbling and the streets covered in detritus and broken glass. "Do we have any casualties?" Obito asks. Shizune flips through her notepad.

"74 people injured, zero fatalities. But reports of missing persons are still trickling in, and the damage to the village's infrastructure is quite immense."

"Tch." Obito rubs his head.

It took a platoon of ANBU nin to herd the zombies into the forest, where Hashi sealed them with her Mokuton prison. There, Itachi showed her how to negate the jutsu, and after weaving a few hand seals, the zombie nin crumbled into dust and ash. ("Won't canceling the Edo Tensei affect you too?" Hashi asked Itachi. Itachi shook his head.

"I released myself from that jutsu awhile ago."

"Oh, okay. Cool.")

"Were any houses in the residential areas affected?" Obito asks. The ANBU nin nods.

"Approximately ten percent of civilian housing got razed by the zombie attack. Most of the damage seems to be confined to the commercial areas, but we have a team already mobilizing an emergency shelter in case any residents are displaced."

"Good," Obito says. "Notify the village council. The villagers will need disaster relief. We'll have to figure out how to re-allocate funds to provide adequate aid."

"Yes, Hokage-sama." And the ANBU nin disappears into the smoke.

Outside, the civilians venture out, cleaning debris and sweeping the dust and detritus. Obito and Kakashi stand in the middle of the civilian town center, looking at the smashed up windows and thick columns of smoke.

"Wow, what a shit show," Kakashi says. He glances at Obito. "They're gonna blame you because you're Hokage, you know."

Above them, a piece of roof falls after catching on fire.

*****

"Madara is Hokage?!" Itachi's eyes widen. His hand grips his sword.

"Worry not, Little Brother," Itachi says, and he pulls out his sword in one fluid motion. "I will do what I should have done a long time ago."

"Wait wait wait wait WAIT Itachi NO!" Naruto and Sasuke have to physically block Itachi from leaving. Itachi whips around.

"What is the matter with you two? Are you under his genjutsu? Let me feel your chakra, he may have disturbed its flow--"

"That's not the real Madara dattebayo, that's the real Madara," and Naruto points to a man with a bunch of kids strapped to him, a baby chewing on his battle fan and a toddler walking on a leash. "The guy you thought was Madara is really a guy named Obito."

"What?" Itachi says. Naruto nods vigorously.

"Yeah! Old Man Madara activated the Moon's Eye, but instead of creating a new reality, he grew this giant tree that cocooned everyone and sucked up all the chakra from all the shinobi! And then this biiiiiig alien lady came and I guess she was some kind of goddess or somethin' and we all thought we were screwed but Obito woke up and was like 'what the heck is happening,' and then he HELPED US, Itachi! An' then we went to a gravity dimension and a fire dimension and Sasuke was trapped in this DESERT dimension but Obito found us and she threw these chakra rods at us but then he jumped in front of us, dattebayo!"

Itachi blinks. He turns to Sasuke.

"Can you genjutsu me with the information?"

"Yeah, sure."

*****

"You should dye your hair," Kakashi says, apropos of nothing. Obito furrows his brow.

"What, why?"

"Because for most people, white hair is distinguished, but on you it just looks weird."

Obito frowns.

*****

"Eh? Dye your hair?" Rin looks up. "Why?"

"Kakashi seems to think I look weird. That maybe I wouldn't scare off the delegates as much if I dyed my hair and used foundation on my neck and hand."

Rin looks. It's true, the patches of cloned skin can look a bit off-putting. His hand and neck are the color of an etiolated egg, translucent and criss-crossed with fine, purplish veins. And that isn't even taking into account the scars on his face, which are jarring even on a good day. Rin frowns at him. "Wouldn't the foundation rub off on your clothes, though?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"Here," she says, and she rummages through her makeup bag.

*****

On a whim, Rin goes to the convenience store to pick up some hair dye.

"I got a couple boxes so you can pick out the best color black," Rin says. Obito frowns at her.

"There's different colors of black?"

"Apparently there is."

"I feel idiotic," Obito says. Rin sets down her bag.

"For the record, I don't think you have to do this. I think your hair looks fine the way it is."

They both look at the box. "This seems complicated," Obito says.

He doesn't dye his hair.

****

Obito doesn't wear the Hokage robes.

He doesn't wear the robes. He doesn't wear the cape. He doesn't even wear the hat, even if ceremonial circumstances dictate it: he'll only hold it gingerly and then pawn it off to Kakashi. Kakashi turns the hat over in his hands, frowning. "Obito. You can't tell me wearing this hat is any worse than wearing those masks."

Obito doesn't look up from his papers. "I don't like things sitting on top of my head."

Kakashi blinks. The boulders. Right.

Kakashi leans back, looking at him. He's wearing the standard green flak jacket, but beneath that he's dressed the way he used to dress when he pretended to be Madara - black pants and a black shirt that covers his neck up to the chin, and he puts on black gloves if there's a visitor. All he would need is his orange mask.

Kakashi knows without asking why he's wearing gloves and a turtleneck - half of Obito's neck and his entire right hand is made of Hashirama's cells, so the color contrast between his face and the rest of his body is jarring.

"Obito. What did you do with all those masks, anyway?"

He turns a page. "I burned them."

"Ah."

There's only the sound of Obito's pen writing on paper.

"You really should dye your hair," Kakashi says. Obito sets his pen down and frowns at him.

*****

"EH?! Kakashi why do you have to keep picking on him?!" Rin says.

Kakashi raises his hands. "Hold on a minute, Rin-chan--"

"You're such a jerk! Obito is working really hard and all you do is make fun of him!"

Obito shakes his head. "This is word for word the same conversation we had as kids," Obito says. Kakashi and Rin turn.

"Really?" Rin says. Obito nods. Rin whirls around toward Kakashi.

"Kakashi you grew up into a jerk!"

A sweatdrop forms on Kakashi's brow "O-oi."

"Picking on Obito just because he looks weird! He can't help it!" Rin says. (She said something similar when they were kids: "Kakashi you're a jerk! Picking on Obito just because he cries a lot! He can't help it!")

"This is making me nostalgic," Minato says.

*****

"Why do you have to keep picking on him? Obito is working really hard! Just because he still can't do basic ninjutsu doesn't mean you can make fun of him!"

*****

"Kakashi be nice! So what if he cries a lot? He can't help it! He's sensitive!"

*****

"Why do you have to be such a jerk, Kakashi?! Just because he lost six times in a row doesn't mean you get to make fun of him!"

*****

"Kakashi this is like making fun of a baby, stop it!"

*****

"I mean, it's okay, not everyone gets it on the first try." A beat. "You've been working on this for a month?"

*****

"Don't apologize, Obito, I don't mind treating your wounds. You're the reason why I'm so good at suturing!"

*****

"Ne, Obito. Do you think Kakashi likes me?" (Proceeds to wax poetic about Kakashi for half an hour).

*****

The genjutsu ends. “Sorry,” Rin says.

*****

They're sitting on the couch, watching a movie, when Rin leans over.

"Ne, Obito?"

"Hm?"

"Please deactivate your ninja eyes!"

Obito starts laughing. Rin giggles and snuggles against his shoulder.

*****

It becomes an inside joke: Rin will be walking past him in the kitchen, or sitting next to him on the couch, when she'll lean over him and say, "Please deactivate your ninja eyes!"

Invariably, it makes Obito crack up, and Rin will give him a mock serious look and tell him, "Sir! Deactivate your ninja eyes! This is no laughing matter!" and it's so stupid they both end up laughing.

It's the only time Rin's seen him laugh.

*****

The Daimyo of the Land of Water is demanding reparations, and so Obito dips into his secret accounts, various Akatsuki holdings that he had disclosed to the Five Nations prior to becoming Hokage. "We demand recompense," a Kirigakure representative says. "Uchiha Obito stole from our country, depleting our wealth and lining the coffers of the Akatsuki with our money. It isn't fair that the Akatsuki's war chest be split up among the five nations at Kirigakure's expense. And lest we forget, he murdered hundreds of shinobi under the guise of being the Mizukage."

Obito stares at them, incredulous. "We already paid everything back with interest," Obito says. He gestures to the other kage. "We already agreed that what is left should go to the other four villages, Konoha included. Tsunade-sama signed the pact."

The Mizukage sniffs. "I see no reason why Konoha should profit."

Obito snaps, "The matter was settled, why is this being brought up again?"

The other kages glance uneasily at each other.

Obito sits heavily on the bed, head in his hands, frustrated. If they don't clinch the trade deal with the civilian village, Konoha will be thrown into debt. Rin sits next to him, touching his arm. "Everything okay?" she says. Wordlessly Obito lists sideways, leaning against her.

He genjutsus her and shows her the whole disastrous meeting, and Rin responds by pursing her lips and resting her hand on his head. "They haven't voted on it yet," Rin says. "Gaara and Darui openly said they'd support you."

"Onoki is still afraid I'm acting as Madara's puppet." Obito sighs, heavily. "There's only four of them and I can't vote on this, we're at a diplomatic standstill."

She rubs his back, and she can feel him start to relax. He plops his head face-first into her shoulder.

Rin lets out a startled laugh, "Obito!"

"Would it be terrible if I just genjutsu them?" His voice is muffled by her shirt. "It would be easy. No one would know."

"I thought you were trying to be a good person?" She rubs soothing circles by the nape of his neck. He moves his head to look up at her.

He reaches up, then tucks back a strand of hair that had fallen by her cheek, the tips of his fingers lightly brushing her temple. His eyes are soft. He smiles at her.

Rin gives him a puzzled smile. "What is it?" she says. Obito searches her eyes quietly.

He rests his head onto her lap, and Rin responds by resting her hand on his head, letting her fingers lightly scratch his scalp as he curls up on his side.

"Rin?"

"Yeah?"

"What would you have done if I did this when we were kids?" Obito says. Rin considers, bowing her head downward to look at him.

"I don't know," Rin says. She cards her fingers through his hair. "Probably freak out."

"Heh. I figured."

"No! I mean, I'd think that you were really injured, like maybe you were too orthostatic to keep sitting up."

Obito laughs. Rin responds by wiggling out from under his head and flopping down next to him.

They rearrange themselves so that Rin is lying on the left side of his chest, resting her head against his shoulder. Obito wraps his arms around her, propping his body slightly to the side so that he's not quite flat on his back. Rin fits her body against his, curling up into the concave hollow of his chest. He feels good and warm and she nuzzles her face against him.

"You know, I thought you'd be more upset about this," Rin says. Obito hugs her.

"I guess I haven't had much time to think about it," Obito says, and Rin realizes she's just brought up painful memories again. She sits up and starts to apologize, but Obito hugs her closer. "I tried negotiating with Onoki one-on-one. The Land of Earth is suffering crop damage from a massive drought, so I offered to open up bilateral trade agreements between their village and ours in return for his vote. He refused, and then he ratted me out to the other kage, claiming I was trying to influence him. I can't even be mad, because I was," Obito says.

"What would you do if you were in the Akatsuki?" Rin asks.

"Genjutsu them. Take I want. Maybe install a subordinate to infiltrate them. Start a whisper campaign in favor of our vote. And if that didn't work, I'd probably send one of the teams to kill them. I'd make it look like an accident, of course," Obito says, and he shifts to look at her. "Onoki would be easy. He's old - all I'd have to do is imply that he needs to do something to protect his legacy. 'Your village is suffering, and on your deathbed you will look back and have nothing but regret. Think about it,' I'd say, and then I'd disappear and let him mull it over."

"So what are you doing now?"

"Trying to convince everyone that I'm harmless and that I'm trying to do the best for the village. Ironic, because the village council doesn't trust me, either." He shifts Rin closer to his chest, then squeezes her fondly. "It's one of the reasons why I'm trying to bring the civilian villages into the fold. They don't know me. Granted, they know I have the Sharingan and they're afraid of me, but it's for an entirely different reason."

Rin feels herself start to drowse. His voice is soothing. He feels comfortable and warm and the entire time he's been talking, he's been absently running his fingertips up and down the skin of her arm. She feels him rest his cheek on her forehead. She smiles and presses a soft kiss against his throat, cuddling him sleepily. "Maybe you should listen to Kakashi," Rin says.

"What about Kakashi?"

"Wear makeup and dye your hair."

Obito scoffs. "Bakakashi is a pain in the ass."

Rin giggles. Obito reaches across her body to switch off the lamp, then shifts her weight, pulling the blankets over the both of them.

Like every night, Obito is the big spoon. Rin curls up on her side and Obito cups his body against hers, his arm draping across her torso and pulling her to his chest. He doesn't say it, but Rin knows he takes comfort in this, being able to hold her and cuddle her the rest of the night. Every so often he'll nuzzle his face into her neck or brush a soft kiss against her nape. Before, he rarely slept, relying on Hashirama's cells and sheer willpower to stay awake. He used to have nightmares, dreams where the walls would suddenly cave in, where the people he killed rose up to accuse him. Frequently he dreamt of Rin's death, and it would be as if he'd witnessed it all over again.

Sleep is comforting now, because he can sleep next to Rin, can feel her move and stir against him.

There is another round of negotiations, and Obito is caught off-guard when an Iwagakure representative asks him about the possibility of a bilateral trade agreement. Obito looks up and sees Onoki scowling, his arms crossed and his face pinched. He sees Obito and looks away dismissively. "I'm doing this for my village," Onoki says. His cape flutters as he floats over, scowling. "That's the only reason you've got my vote."

"Thank you," Obito says, and his face brightens. The other kage look and whisper to themselves. They had never seen the Sixth Hokage crack a smile.

#lol okay that was the last one #sorry for the fic spam #i don't normally post all this stuff here #but since i had the other stuff i thought why not #birdsong #solatium #obirin #uchiha obito #nohara rin #my crappy fic

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