#it's so stupid. idk what else to say but draft dodging even if it gets u idk thrown in jail (at worst) it will NEVER compare to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

solcheeky · 3 years

Text

our secret

summary: fratboy!donghyuck turns paperboy! when he needs some extra money for college stuff like textbooks. he thinks delivering way outside of campus will save face from being a measly paperboy, but little does he know, the front yard light he hits (and breaks) belongs to his significantly well off classmate... (3k)

warnings: strong language here and there genre: enemies to ..friends? a/n: I’ve merged these two requests together! meaning I have and haven’t included aspects of each, hope that’s okay! (2021 edit: hi I found this in my drafts from last year and idk why I never posted it so yeah, here we go)

“You’re late.” Your professor calls out as Donghyuck fails to sneak into lecture hall unnoticed

You sigh, you’d think he’d at least look ashamed to step foot into class at such a late time

You suppose with Lee Donghyuck, things were always different

The boy winces comically, inhaling between his teeth brazenly, and students stifle their laughter

Then with a simple raise of his hand, he gestures a flimsy ‘my bad’ and a ‘continue, continue’ before charmingly wiping the sweat off his brow and sitting in the empty seat saved by his friends

The professor frowns, “you’re late.” He repeats as if to encourage the young rebel to at least say something

“I’m Haechan,” the rebel says under his breath, flopping his backpack onto the desk, “not ‘late’” a sarcastic smile stretching his lips as his friends snicker at his dumb joke

You roll your eyes, he was unbelievable.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough.” The professor claps his hands. “And Mr. Late,” he emphasizes, “don’t think you’re getting away with anything.”

So he drops it on him like a bomb: “For the rest of this week, meet me in the office an hour before classes start.”

The grin on Donghyuck’s face immediately wipes off his face and his heart drops to his stomach

“Prof!” He whines back

Karma, you think. That’s what he gets for being so up his own ass

It wouldn’t kill him to wake up a little bit earlier. He relied so much on his ‘so loveable’ personality and popularity, you couldn’t stand it

If you even attempted to do half the things he got away with, you’d be expelled by now

You drop your pen and lean back into your seat with a sigh, you had no choice but to sit back and watch him waste valuable lesson time over this insolence

“You can’t do that!” Seriously, Donghyuck would do anything else other than doing extra hours in the morning

“And you can’t be late to my lectures all the time. What are you not getting here Mr. Late?”

“But I can’t.” Donghyuck immediately regrets saying that out loud like that; the vulnerability in his voice a little too close to home

“And, why not?” Your professor bounces back thankfully brushing past the genuine desperation in his students voice

The reason why not was something ‘Lee Haechan’ couldn’t say out loud. If he did, he’d lose everything

So instead, he sticks with his usual tongue-in-cheek mannerism, “because I don’t want to.”—A sneaky beat around the bush on his part because, little did everyone know, Lee Haechan, the star player and everyone’s favorite goofball, was a measly paperboy

Why?

Because he was dumb broke.

It was a job that required him waking up extra early to race around neighborhoods on his bike, something he had to do regardless rain or sun just tossing as many papers onto people's front porches,

Something he already was finding so much of a difficulty doing: racing to class and acting as if his muscles weren’t burning or the fabric under is backpack wasn’t drenched in sweat

But now this ‘meet me in the office an hour earlier than classes start’ bullshit

That would mean he’d have to wake up even earlier than he already did!

“Doesn’t matter if you don’t want to, you’re going to.” Is the last thing your professor says on that topic before swiftly moving on.

Oh to be born with a silver spoon in his mouth, is what he always thinks as he cycles his rounds in the wealthy neighborhood

If there was one thing he didn’t have, it was this.

He looks at the blaringly affluent homes that surrounded him and heaves another sigh, the same road he rides every morning (and now this extra early morning) effortlessly reminding him of how absolutely poor his ass was

Grumbling under his breath in a tantrum about his professor in his head, he angrily hurls newspapers onto doorsteps

It was the fact that he had to deal with this at ungodly hours in the morning—as if this job wasn’t already enough

Donghyuck frustratedly hurls another newspaper, but this time around, it shoots straight into someone's front garden post light, knocking it over and completely disrupting the perfect order in which the other trail of foot lights were set in

What the heck?

Immediately, he hits the breaks, his tires screeching loudly in the quietness of the early morning

Profanities frantically leave his lips as he hurriedly drops his bike onto the sidewalk in a clatter, and runs ahead to see the damage he’s made

The lamp was perfectly struck to its side.

Well, that’s just great—he can’t afford college textbooks let alone the broken path lamp on some rich persons lawn

So, his first thoughts are to pull it back into the place, completely irrational, but it’s the only thing that runs through his mind when he’s on a time crunch to get off private property

Except, the damn thing is stuck; literally cemented into this lopsided tilt

Man, Donghyuck swears he could tug all day and it wouldn’t get back into place

It was like the universe was having fun being against him

You, on the other hand, were watching this boy struggle to fix your light back into place from the comfort of your window.

He looked ridiculously cute trying to tug that lamp back into place, curled almost into a ball in the middle of your lawn, his eyebrows sewn into a line of frustration and lips pursed

You knew he was your paperboy from the start of his laborious cycling trips, but did Donghyuck know he was delivering papers to his very own classmate every morning?

You guess not.

...Until now

You knock three times from behind the glass, successfully capturing the boy's attention before mouthing, “what are you doing?”

The agitation on his features drops and immediately his eyes widen at your familiar face

Except, he isn’t given much time to reply before the lamp between his fingers gives in to his weight and recoils back smacking him right in the nose

“Holy shit!” You forget you’re only in socks when you open your front door and race towards him

Donghyuck automatically drops the (now broken) piece of your lawn to cup his bruising face

“Ah- Fucking shit- Ow!” He bends forwards on his knees into the grass, forehead pressing into your lawn before he rocks back up again to scrunch a deep frown up towards the sky. “Jesus-”

“Are you okay?!” Dropping to your knees, you place a cautious hand to his back

“Yes.” He groans into his palms, rocking back down towards the grass again

He definitely wasn’t.

But he needed to get out of there quick; there’s no way he’d let you recognize him

Yeah, you weren’t that stupid.

“Let me see,” you carefully bring him up by his shoulders, your head leaning down towards his to see the damage

“No- Ow! Crap-”

“You’re bleeding!” You try to pry at his wrists but he rips away from your hands

That’s when Donghyuck finally looks up to scowl at you; a frown stitched hard into into his forehead, eyes watering, hair all ruffled, but most alarmingly—a scarlet ribbon of blood running down his wrists

“I’m okay.” He muffles into his hands.

And wow did he look like an idiot.

“Sorry about your-”

“Jesus Hyuck, you’re not fooling anyone.”

The boy visibly stiffens at your choice of his name

“Haechan.” You quickly correct yourself

He gulps

You glance away

“Let’s just put an ice-pack on that.” Then you’re dragging him into your house

“Quit moving!” You dab a wet cloth across the cut above Donghyuck’s lip

“Well, it hurts.” He tries to complain without moving his mouth too much

You purse your lips and Donghyuck attempts to adjust the ice pack on his nose despite your warning

With a sigh, you take his wrist and bring his arm down to his lap, “Hyuck, if you keep-” you feel him stiffen under your touch. “Haechan.” You keep doing that. “Sorry.”

He just diverts his eyes elsewhere and mumbles, “It’s whatever.” under his breath

So, you bring your attention back to cleaning his cut, your cheeks heating up at the thought of how much of a creep you probably were by calling him by his old name

“I’m-”

“Y/n.” His voice was a little clearer this time, a soft frown on his face, “I remember.”

He kind of wished you didn’t though. This was so embarrassing.

You pull the cloth away from his reddening cheeks, that annoyed flustered look on his face pulling at the nostalgia in you

It was only natural to call him ‘Hyuck’ because you had been going to the same school as him for years

Ever since you were kids, through highschool and now somehow, still impossibly in college, you’ve been with him

You almost had every class with the loud idiot back when he was still ‘Donghyuck’

For as long as you could remember, he had always been the center of gravity in every class, his punchy personality and almost too friendly way of speaking easily giving him the ‘popular’ tag

It made you have a bit of a crush on him when you were younger, but who didn’t?

Now, you found him irritating.

The only thought you had about him consisted of wishing he’d stop using his status to his advantage and just come to class right instead of wasting your lesson time

“Can I ask you something?” He dodges your hand for a second, eyes looking down as if to hide away his embarrassment

“Sure,” you naturally reach forward again to dab his cut, but he stops you at the wrist

“Can you,” you lift your focus away from his lip to the slight grimace on his face, “not tell anyone about this?”

You blink at him, and a muscle works in his jaw

“Seriously, people can’t know about this.”

But you simply pull your wrist out of his grip and go back to tending to his wound

You hadn’t told anyone since you’d found he was your paperboy, and that was weeks ago. So why was he so worked up?

Hadn’t the situation already called for it anyway? Who in their right mind would tell anyone after this? For you, it was obviously common courtesy

But before you can reply, he tilts his face into your line of vision. “Are you listening to me?” The frown on his face deepens and he instantly brings the ice pack in this hand over his face at the sudden pain through his nose

That attitude of his easily drove you crazy.

“That was a stupid question.” You give up on cleaning the blood on his lip and push the ice-pack deeper into his face, “if you used that stupid, egotistical brain of yours-”

“Ah! Ow- Ooow-”

“Maybe you’d realize I’ve never told anyone about your paper rounds before.”

“Ow!” He wrenches away from your frustrated grip, the look on his face just as annoyed as you. “You’re going to break my nose!”

“You broke my yard lamp!”

He looks at you with a huff; a slight puff to his reddened cheeks, furrowed brows and tears ever so slightly brimming his eyes

If that lamp didn’t cost about five times the price of his bike he’d say something back.

You easily read that off his expression

“You don’t have to pay for it.” You start to pack up the first-aid kit you’d opened up on your coffee table just to not look at him in the eyes when you say that

As much as he irritated you, you weren’t that petty

“Really?” The genuine doubt in his face relaxing the annoyance in you a little

“Yeah.” Money wasn’t a problem for you, it was his attitude

But the casualness Donghyuck catches in your tone reminds him of the starkly different worlds you live in

So he musters it up within himself to at least show some kind of gratitude, “...Thanks.”

And it’s almost inaudible when he says it under his breath like that

But you catch it as you pull a bandaid out of the box before you close it

“On one condition.” You turn to look at him dead in the eyes.

One of his brows slightly quirk up in interest

“Hand.”

He opens his palm to you and you purposely slap the bandaid into it.

“Stop coming late to class, you’re wasting everyone's time.”

Instantly, his jaw goes slack.

Unable to say anything he stares as you rise from your seat in content, first aid kit in hand, before walking behind the sofa towards the kitchen

You didn’t have to say it like that.

He swings an elbow over the back of the couch, “Sorry for bringing you the paper every morning!” Maybe he was a little offended

You turn on your heels to face him, noticing the bandaid now crushed in the fist of the hand he had over the couch and ice-pack abandoned on the coffee table (the full glory of his bruising nose and cut lip on show)

“I said ‘don’t be late’ not ‘don’t bring me the paper’.” Then you disappear into the kitchen.

Donghyuck has to close his eyes for a second, exhaling a frustrated sigh before standing up in a huff and following your footsteps.

How could you say something so insensitive? Yeah, maybe he broke your lamp or whatever, but he tried to fix it!

And sure, he was sort of bleeding over your couch and used your ice pack, but he totally said thanks

“That’s just- You’re so,” He’s standing at the doorway by the time you’re done, bandaid still stuck in the frustrated grip of his hand

“So what, Hyuck?”

Seeing the all star, team favorite class clown crumble at the simple play of his old nickname made something in your stirr

“Insufferable.”

You? Your lips turn up in amusement. He was the insufferable one, you almost scoff

“You and your big house, fancy first aid kit, stupid lamps on your lawn,” he takes a bold step forward at every reason until he’s one step to being chest to chest, “I’m just trying to do my job, and go to class.”

You look at him straight in the eyes. “Well, you’re hardly succeeding at either of those.”

You...

Donghyuck runs his tongue across his inner cheek before biting down on his bottom lip in a brazen attempt to act unfazed by that fatal side comment

A coppery, metal taste pricks his tongue, and he realizes he’s reopened up the cut on his lip again

But that was the least of his worries. You had no idea what it was like being broke. If there was anything he didn’t have, it was everything you did. You probably couldn’t even fathom the type of shit he’s had to go through and even more so: hide.

The way you acted as if his biggest problem in life was as easy as brushing the dust of his shoulder just pissed him off.

“Have you ever thought of waking up earlier?”

Ah, there it was again, Donghyuck wants to roll his eyes

“I sleep late.” He says dryly.

“Then sleep earlier.”

“I have other shit to do, like study.”

“Then, manage your time better.” If he really wanted to ‘do his job’ and ‘get to class’, he could’ve done it by now.

He was always messing about with friends and organizing parties, stories spread around like wildfire on campus about the things he occupied himself with other than ‘having shit to do like studying’, you weren’t stupid

It was by the end of high school, when you began to see him as a person who valued himself with the amount of friends knew or the amount of partying he did

And at first you were mad that he had the things you never did, but seeing him easily get washed up by it all made you think maybe you didn’t need what he had

Now you figure his ego was so far up his ass he couldn’t even sit right—that’s probably why he couldn’t cycle to class on time

“And don’t use your bike, you’re clearly slow on it.” You tack on.

“I don’t even have a car!” He snaps back

He made you want to pull out your own hair. “Jeez, first this, then that, god Hyuck, you keep-”

“You say that as if it were so easy,” his words overlapping yours as you continue

“-making up so much bullshit because the only thing you really put effort into is your image,” Your words running over his too.

“-if I could get a car, don’t you think I’d have one already?”

“Then I’ll just take you!” That puts both of you to a stop.

“So, quit giving me stupid excuses to ruin my lectures every day.” If the things money could buy were what he needed, you had it

You snatch the bandaid out of his fist, rip it open and harshly stick it across his bottom lip. It was annoying to see him ignore it like that.

“You usually finish an hour before class right?” You frown up at him

Donghyuck opens his mouth then closes it again.

“Because if you reroute and make me the last house, I’ll take you with me by car.”

“What?” He manages to say. What the hell just happened?

a/n: okay so there was a lot more to the story and character development but it ran too long I had to cut it off bc I cba to edit lmao

also I seemed to have gone way out of the request lines near the end my bad my bad, but I at least hope you’ve enjoyed it! thoughts???? a part 2?

#lee donghyuck #lee haechan #lee haechan scenarios #lee donghyuck scenario #haechan imagines #lee haechan x you #lee haechan fic #haechan scenarios #donghyuck scenarios #haechan fluff #donghyuck fluff #haechan x reader #lee haechan fanfic #haechan fic #donghyuck imagines #nct imagines #nct scenarios #lee haechan x reader #why does he have two names I hate this

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edelgoth · 4 years

Text

nuisance (claude x reader)

pairing: claude x commoner!reader summary: claude has a great idea for a prank on seteth. goblin shenanigans ensue. so does some pining. genre: fluff? mutual pining? kind of? word count: 2,166 words a/n: yeah idk what this is,,, it’s just been sitting in my drafts for ages. enjoy i guess

“Claude.”

“Yeah?”

“This is a terrible idea.”

Claude popped his head out from underneath the desk, winking at you. “You just need to think bigger.”

You ignored that. “What are you even doing under there?”

“Just checking that it’s not bolted to the ground.”

You decided it was better not to ask why he had to huddle under the desk like a gremlin to confirm that.

“Well?”

“It’s not.”

He crawled out and hopped to full height, smiling at you. It was a smile that was full of all sorts of mischief.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Come on,” he grinned, grabbing your shoulders. “It’s a great idea.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Please?” He pouted at you, eyes big and puppy-like. You almost hated yourself for how quickly you gave in.

“Fine,” you grumbled, your gaze flitting to the ground.

“Knew you’d cave,” Claude grinned, ruffling your hair. You had half a mind to slap him away, but he already bounded off before you could do anything. Whatever; it’s not like anyone was going to see you. You hoped no-one would see you.

“You’re such a nuisance,” you mumbled. But you couldn’t hide the smile in your voice.

“And yet, you still choose to spend time with me.” Claude looked over his shoulder and smirked at you. Part of you wanted to slap that smirk off his face. The other part of you didn’t mind it.

You looked at him witheringly, but you said nothing. You were too tired to say anything clever back.

Admittedly, you hadn’t expected to be woken up this late at night to a gentle rapping on your window, followed by what you now knew to be the hoot of an owl. Claude had put his own spin on it. The entire scene had nearly given you a heart attack, until you saw that familiar smug face grinning at you from the window.

When you had agreed to pull a prank on Seteth, you hadn’t expected something this... ambitious, and yet, low-key.

Claude was already shuffling furniture around, picking up chairs and setting them down a few paces away. You watched him for a second, before letting out a long sigh. You were the fool who’d agreed to this, after all.

“Don’t look so grim,” he hummed, still focused on the furniture. “I thought you loved doing this sort of stuff.”

“I do,” you responded, without really thinking it. It wasn’t a total lie; you did enjoy taking part in these schemes, menial as they were. But it wasn’t the act of pulling prank itself that kept you coming back. It was Claude.

“Then what’s the problem?” He asked, his back to you as he began pulling books off the shelf and turning them upside down before placing them back in their original place.

You didn’t quite know. Maybe you were just tired. Or maybe it was something else.

“I’m just tired,” you said, topped off by an exaggerated yawn.

“Oh,” Claude murmured. “Yeah, right. Sorry about that.”

You were about to ask him if he’d been asleep, too. Then you realised that was a dumb question. “Up in the library, again?”

“I asked you if you wanted to join me,” he shrugged, turning to grin at you again.

“And I would’ve said yes, if we hadn’t been up absurdly late last night,” you yawned again, “also in the library.”

“You’ve got to retrain your body,” Claude said, tapping his temple. “Teach it to run on a couple hours sleep.”

“Sounds awful.”

“There you go, thinking small again,” he tutted, shaking his head. “Help me with the desk, won’t you?” He was stood at it’s far left, hands planted firmly on the corners.

You dawdled over, glancing down. The desk was still covered with Seteth’s meticulously placed belongings.

“It’ll be fine,” Claude said, as if reading your mind. “And besides, if anything falls off, we’ll just put it back.”

“In the wrong place?”

“Exactly.”

“You sure this will work?” You asked, ensuring you had a firm grip on your end of the desk.

“Oh, yeah,” Claude snorted, “can you imagine the look on his face? Everything in this room, just a little bit out of order. It’s sure to send someone like him into a fit.”

You thought about it for a moment. Seteth, walking into his office, finding that everything was just a few inches out of place...

Yeah. You could see it.

“You agree with me,” Claude smirked, “I can see it on your face.”

His entire face lit up as he smiled at you. You swallowed and looked away. Sometimes, that smile was too bright.

Say anything, you thought, literally anything.

“Flayn’ll love it,” you smiled, the thought of her absolute delight flooding your mind.

“See? This is for the common good,” Claude said.

“Oh, of course,” you nodded, “as always.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he smiled, more to himself than at you. “Alright, on the count of three. One... two... three!”

You both lifted the table up with a grunt. It was much, much heavier than you’d anticipated.

“Quickly now,” Claude grunted. You didn’t need to be told twice. You stumbled back a few paces, but no further. The table thunked to the ground a little louder than you were comfortable with.

Your eyes snapped to Claude’s. His snapped to you.

Dead silence. More silence. And more silence.

“You reckon anyone heard that?” He whispered.

“Not sure,” you whispered back, letting go of the desk. A dull ache rippled through your arm. The quietest of groans escaped your throat.

“You alright?” Claude frowned, tilting his head at you as he dashed towards you.

“My arms,” you groaned, rubbing your biceps.

“Sorry about that,” he cringed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess the table’s made of better stuff than I anticipated, huh?”

“If my arms hurt too much for practice tomorrow, you owe me dinner,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

Claude laughed, reaching over to poke your cheek. You swatted his hand away before he could make contact.

“Hey, don’t complain,” he whined, “you agreed to do this.”

You pressed your lips together. He was right, sure, but you didn’t want to say it.

“You just can’t resist my charms, can you?” He winked at you.

You stared at him, face blank.

“Oh, Claude, sweetie,” you sighed, “you know my heart already belongs to one Sylvain Gautier. I might just die if I don’t--”

“Shh,” Claude put a finger to his lips, suppressing what you knew was probably raucous laughter, “if you start that again, you know I’m not gonna stay quiet.”

“It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“You wound me yet again,” he chuckled, making his way for the door.

Again?

“We should go,” he murmured, looking over his shoulder at you. “Before they come investigate.”

“Right,” you nodded.

Claude slipped out the door without a sound, and you followed as gracefully as you could. The hallway felt smaller at night. Almost claustrophobic. The two of you passed Manuela’s office; the door was slightly ajar, giving you a good glimpse of her anatomy mannequin. The moonlight cast a ghastly glow over it, highlighting the stark shadows of its face that seemed to be staring at you.

You grabbed Claude’s coat sleeve without thinking.

Did he just... chuckle?

You tried to swallow the dryness in your throat, but you didn’t let go of Claude’s sleeve. Not until you were out of here, anyway.

A quiet creak from the other end of the building.

Footsteps.

Shit, you thought.

You looked up at Claude. He was already looking at you.

“Run,” he grinned, grabbing your hand. You didn’t have time to respond. Claude took off down the hallway, you stumbling behind.

“Claude von Riegan--”

“Now’s not the time!”

He was laughing. So all attempts at being discreet were off.

The two of you thundered down the hall, your footsteps loud and harsh against the wooden floor. You skidded round the corner and headed straight for the stairwell, slowing down only slightly to descend the stairs. Claude, his hand still wrapped around yours, didn’t take such precautions. He bound down the stairs two at a time, a shit-eating grin plastered to his face.

You heart felt like it was about to give out, but you didn’t stop. You just let him half-drag you downwards, rushing out of the entryway and onto the stone pathways of the ground floor.

And you two kept running. And running. And running.

If carrying the table didn’t leave you sore tomorrow, this definitely would.

Claude didn’t stop until you were in front of the greenhouse.

“That was a close one,” he laughed, bent over with his hands on his knees.

“It’s not over yet,” you murmured, looking over your shoulder. No way the guards had given up. Not when there were goblins about.

“You make for your dorm,” he panted, gesturing towards the row of commoner dorms only a few feet away. “I’ll cover for you.”

“Nonsense,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m not going to let you get in trouble.”

“You care about me that much, huh?” He straightened up, a sly smile painting his face.

You had half a mind to punch him in the gut. “What do you think, Your Future--”

A glint of silver in the moonlight. You grabbed his elbow and pulled him into the shadowy crevice behind the greenhouse.

The only sounds you could hear was your laboured breathing and your blood hammering in your ears.

You were so stupid.

Were you really risking getting into trouble for Claude von Riegan? Claude, who would be absolutely fine if he was caught breaking the rules? If you got in trouble too many times, you could lose your spot at the Monastery. Claude had given you the chance to dodge punishment not a minute ago.

The most stupid thing you’d ever done, though, was let yourself get to close to him. Like you had, just now.

You tried your best to ignore the thundering in your chest. You knew he was looking at you.

“My my, aren’t you getting bold?” He murmured. You could feel your cheeks burning.

“I’m going to throttle you.”

“See, you keep saying that like it’d be a bad thing,” Claude smirked, giving you a wink.

You elbowed his stomach.

“Ow!” He hissed, but he was still smiling at you.

You looked up at him then, fighting the feeling in your chest. It wasn’t a foreign feeling; it has been bothering you more and more as of late. And you hated it. It was weird. Some instinctive part of you knew what it was; but you were too afraid to acknowledge it. You didn’t want to acknowledge it.

You didn’t know what it meant for you. He was the next Duke of the Alliance. He had responsibilities in his future that you couldn’t even dream of. And yes, he was your friend here and now, but what about in a year? In five? You were stupid enough to let the two of you get as close as you had as friends, let alone--

His fingers brushed against the side of your face. What was he doing? You froze, staring up at him. There was something new in his eyes, something not unfamiliar, but... rare. You’d seen this look before; out the corner of your eye as you poured over a book in the library, on one of those needlessly late nights. You’d seen it when you’d been rambling about popular folkore amongst the Alliance laity. You’d also seen it when you’d been talking about your wishes for the future; for a fairer, more equal world.

No, no, no. You couldn’t think about this. Not here. Not now.

“Are they gone?” You blurted out, praying that your entire face wasn’t blindingly red.

Claude snapped back to reality, his eyes widening for just a moment before he peeked around the corner.

“Looks all clear to me,” he shrugged.

“Right,” you nodded. But for some forsaken reason, your legs wouldn’t move.

“We, ah,” Claude swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “we should go. Not a great idea to be out this late, you know.”

You nodded, stepping out from behind the greenhouse. The breeze felt much cooler on your blushed skin than it had before. You had a chance of sneaking back into your dorm, if you were quick about it. Your dorm was only on the bottom floor, after all. Being a commoner had some benefits. How Claude managed to get in and out of his room... well, that was a whole other matter.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you said, almost as an afterthought.

“Too much of an ask,” Claude tutted, shaking his head.

You smiled, reaching to ruffle his hair. He raised an eyebrow at you, but you knew he liked it. The corners of his lips were quirked up, after all.

“Alright, fine,” he chuckled. “Just for you.”

#claude von riegan imagines #claude von riegan x reader #fire emblem imagines #claude von riegan scenarios #claude von riegan headcanons #claude von riegan #claude imagines #every time i write something i forget how to tag sjdslfdksj #w: claude

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mvndrvke-archive · 5 years

Text

* GETTING TO KNOW THE MUN :

Originally posted by juliaowicker

NAME : luna !

NICKNAME : bitch, usually.

FACECLAIM : tatiana maslaney or milena ( annabeth’s fc ). i’m thinking about shifting over to using lilly dreesen though but who knows. who’s to say. i suck at choosing things.

PRONOUNS : she/her

HEIGHT : 5′7″

BIRTHDAY : january 3rd

AESTHETIC : starving college graduate / hot tea and fluffy blankets / sleepy mornings and late nights / big ol glass of wine night / idk if any of these are aesthetics like i don’t know what that means so i’m winging it TBH

LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO : oh god um. dodged a bullet. fckin love that song.

FAVORITE MUSE (S) YOU’VE WRITTEN : nico and annabeth are my favorites on this account, though i’ve enjoyed writing other muses too. a lot of OCs honestly.

* GETTING TO KNOW THE ACCOUNT :

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO TAKE ON THIS MUSE : i’m just gonna rant. but honestly i wanted to get a bit of a fresh start with indie, i started on a single indie blog and decided i wanted to move on and expand a bit, and write more characters. i always knew i wanted to write certain ones that i’d just never really gotten a chance to, or i didn’t think they’d be good as solo blogs ( like megan, and my oc oswin, who was on a single blog until i brought him over here ), so this was really my chance to hop into fandoms i’ve always loved but never was a part of before.

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE ASPECTS OF YOUR CURRENT MUSE : imma keep ranting. i love annabeth’s compassion for others and seeing that fight with her desire to be wise like her mother-- the constant fight between the two that follows her throughout her life. i love megan’s unrelenting optimism. i love merri’s creativity and positive outlook on life, which even in spite of some things in her life, she still does with spunk and enthusiasm. i love cecil’s desire to be the kindest and best friend, even as he’s struggling. i love nyssa’s dedication to her brothers, and her determination to prove herself, even if no one is paying attention to it. i love oswin’s curiosity. i love kate’s sharp wit and how protective she is when it comes to her friends. i love peter’s nonstop talking and excitement to greet everything the world throws at him-- he’s been thrown into so many bad situations, but he manages to get through it and continue to believe in the good of others, and himself. and i love nico’s growth from who he used to be into who he is-- he was a child growing up in a violent world, who lost everyone but still managed to get through and survive, even if he came out the other side different than he was at the beginning-- and how he cares for people, even if he doesn’t like the fact that he does.

WHAT’S YOUR BIGGEST INSPIRATION WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING : i guess i’d say music, probably? whatever i’m listening to makes me want to write different things. and sometimes when i just go on random thought trains, i get a lot of muse for something that comes from that or is related to that somehow.

FAVORITE TYPES OF THREADS : threads where i can really get into the deeper stuff. i love having lighthearted threads, but diving into a character’s history, or things that bother/scare them, or things that drive them? sign me the fuck up.

BIGGEST STRUGGLE IN REGARDS TO YOUR CURRENT MUSE : i guess i struggle with building headcanons in with my portrayal sometimes with my canon divergent muses. i’m very conscious of the fact that my characters ( especially nico and annabeth and kate ) deviate from their canons, so whenever i post a headcanon or something, i tend to get very nervous about it. what if people don’t like what i choose? what if people decide my writing sucks because of it? there’s like. sO many things just hanging out in my drafts because i feel stupid posting them. i guess honestly that insecurity’s probably my biggest struggle when it comes to my muses, like if i don’t think something is good enough, i tend to shy away from writing that character for a bit. and imma be honest sometimes i get shitty anons on this blog and that really throws me off??? it’s a very up and down experience for me but i love these characters so much.

TAGGED BY : @songbird-not-found

TAGGING : @flwersrot & @liveshaunted & @arrowloosed & @archerdeafened & @aerrowsmith & @apollonwrites & anyone else that wants to do it!

#about the mun #meme replies #thank you for tagging me omg this was so much fun #anxiety tw #negativity tw #it's a bird it's a plane it's a queued post!

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callie-the-snarky-geek-blog · 5 years

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RvB16 Episode 4 Review: Sis and Tuc’s S**ellent Adventure

(Old Reblog Post. Also sorry for the censoring, I’m trying t be cautious right now.)

With a title like ‘Sis and Tuc’s S**cellent Adventure”, so I even need to write an introduction? That’s enough of a draw-in! So… yeah, lets just jump into it!

Overview

It’s been a day since the last episode and Tucker has recovered from the blow to his fragile male ego. He agrees to Sister’s plan on banging past people wanting a six-way with the Spice Girls. Sister points out that he’s setting himself too high and eventually it leads back to Tucker insisting that they banged. Sister expands on what she said last episode, about something happening that made them stop. I guess she thought about it more as she says that Tucker thought that someone was watching them and had stopped due to it. To get a clear answer, they decide to go back to Season 5 now that Sister has figured out how the portal gun works.

Back at The Battle of Broken Ridge, the… Red Army I guess? I assume it’s a Red vs Blue battle. Anyways, they’re all dead. Simmons tries to comfort Sarge after his failure to prevent their deaths… that he pretty much caused. And in the afterlife, Church is laughing cause now they are going through what he did. Sarge is upset and blames the failures… on his underlings idiocy. Of course. But is this going to deter Sarge from fixing the past? Hell no! He is going to create essentially a dream time like The Expendables… a movie I’ve never seen, but screw you Sarge! Harrison Ford makes everything better even if he isn’t necessary! Simmons is just left baffled and confused. You think he’d be used to this by now.

Back with Tucker and Sister, they make it back to Season 5 during the final fight with Wyoming. In order to not cause a paradox, they dodge behind rocks to not be seen… and wouldn’t you know it, Tucker finds a sniper rifle! I’m surprised he didn’t make a bigger deal over finally getting the thing (and… how did it get there? I need to rewatch Blood Gulch man). But with it, he spots he moment where past him was talking to Flowers… and I am still is confused on how he came back to life out of nowhere as I was when I watched Season 5. But we do get an explanation on how he died again. Remember the random bullet that show him down? Well turns out that Tucker’s finger was too close to the trigger and… well, you do the math. Seriously, Church must just be laughing his ass off int he afterlife right now. But Tucker knows when he fucks up and decides to stick to the sword.

We now check on Grif and Doc as Grif has figured out how the gun works now. Okay, so everyone knows how the things work, good. Grif, still wanting to avoid the plot, has sent them back to when he was in college and before he… got enlisted? Wait, I thought he was drafted… meh, maybe time has affected his memory or something. My proof? Well the restaurant is now a Calzone and Stormboli restaurant. Grif, confused, tries to ask some kids what the fuck is happening. Also it’s Halloween so that we can justify them wearing Halo armor despite being kids! Ah, you gotta love those kinds of things!

So… as it turns out… Grif and Doc ended up in a timeline where pizza does not exist. Let me repeat that: Pizza does NOT exist… WHAT KIND OF SICK TIMELINE IS THAT?! Grif yells at children before the fact sinks in and… he decides to grenade himself. Sheesh dude, I knwo that a world without pizza is just sick and wrong, but there’s other Italian dishes to consider! Luckily Doc knows the grenade away, saving Grif’s life for the second time… okay I forgive him for last season now. Cause someone needs to take care of Grif while Simmons isn’t there and Doc is fulfilling that, damn it! Doc is able to convince Grif to instead try and cause the invention of pizza to fix it… after trying to convinced him to use it for the greater good. Someone needs to one day explain to Doc what show he’s in, I don’t think he ever figured it out.

Back in Season 5, Sister now has the sniper rifle and they’re now waiting for the ship with Tex, Junior, and Andy to blow up. Tucker uses the time to ash Sister why she tagged along to begin with. Sister explains how, while the convention business has been going well, her personal life has gotten fucked up. TO put it simply, she got involved with a person working with her… who was married to the head of HR. So… yeah that’s a bit of a clusterfuck if there ever was one. She wishes that things could go back to being silly and fun like it used to be, a sentiment that Tucker can relate to. Back in Blood Gulch, it felt like that nothing really mattered and there weren’t really consequences. No? Wash got injured due to his poor leadership and he’s got a lawsuit on him for who knows how many child support payments. It’s… a rather nice, reflective heart-to-heart. We also learn that Tucker’s mother is dead… that’s a bummer.

So the ship explodes, everyone kind of went to do their own thing, and past!Tucker took past!Sister to the caves to shoe her ‘surprise’. Turns out that Blood Gulch has a lake in the canyon… didn’t know that. Past!Tucker is trying to, of course, initiate having hanky panky time with Sister (and I imagine past!Grif having a ‘I sense a disturbance in the Force’ moment) and… he is awkward and stammering as Hell. It’s kinda cute… I’m gonna laugh at him anyways! HAHAHA! Fortunately past!Sister is more than capable of taking the initiative and it looks like they were indeed going to have see. ALl as their future selves watch in secret. Sister, having a moment of weakness, asks if Tucker wants to go ahead and bang with Tucker… getting too excited and causing last him to hear him. They don’t get caught and cause a paradox thankfully, but it’s enough to cause past!Tucker to call hanky panky time off. So… Tucker totally cockblocked himself… twice… with the same girl… wooooow.

Sister is of course annoyed as they return to Valhalla as well as disappointed in herself for almost banging with Tucker. But hey, she gets a new idea… to go back and bang her past self! No! Sister, selfcest leads to bad things! She goes off and if they had animated this scene, I imagine that Tucker would be kicking himself right now. Literally. But hey, you came close buddy.

Review

This was a laugh riot, OMG. Before we get to the main event, lets talk about the other pairs.

There’s not a lot to say about Sarge and Simmons really. As expected, Sarge caused his own problem and fails to recognize it. IDK if him saying that he’s going to recruit others is going to go anywhere, but it was there. I did like how Simmons was concerned about Sarge’s state after and him continuing to be a dork with having a log (but… it was a science log here and last time it was a star log… does Simmons keep multiple logs?! NERD!) Him just being completely and utterly baffled at how Sarge could jump to the conclusion he made was also hilarious, especially him just weakly returning the ‘hoorahs’. IDK why the mental image of Gus recording that crack me up… but it cracks me up.

There’s a bit more to talk about with Grif and Doc. First, addressing the brief continuity error about Grif claiming to be enlisted. Now him dropping out of college? I can buy that. But in the Fan Guide and I’m fairly sure that Geoff himself said it before, Grif was drafted. Then again he did claim that he signed up willingly back int he very first episode, so… IDK. It’s not that big a deal and it can easily be hand-waved as him just saying that so Doc won’t question him about it or with pizza no longer existing, maybe he did enlist due to time screwing up and his memory adjusted accordingly. So ultimately, unless this is important later and IDT it will be, it’s not that big a deal.

So we continue to see Grif ignoring the problem and trying to get back to the pizza quest. To Doc’s credit, he is trying to get Grif to focus on it, but this being Doc he can’t really force it and IDT hes going to unleash O’Malley if he can help it. Grif yelling at children (and one I’m fairly sure is voiced by Lindsay? Or at least one sounded like Space Kid) about pizza’s existence also had me about ready to burst a guy. I imagine that Geoff blew his voice out after that, but his sacrifice is appreciate if that is the case. Plus hey, he NAILED it. Seriously, sidetracking, but the voice acting has been perfection so far. But yeah, I assume that something is going to happen to force Grif into facing the problem moreso than the others (I imagine whenever they discover Huggins… where is she BTW?) and I worry that since he’s kept Grif from getting killed twice now, something might happen to Doc… but we’ll see!

Okay, onto the main event! The entire S**cellent adventure was a laugh riot, OMG. Honestly just having Sister have some prominent screentime after so long was SO nice. I am loving how Joe is handling her this season. Her and Tucker’s banter was perfection. Them going form bickering to flirting is just hilarious and I am loving it. I wasn’t sure what to expect from them aside form flirting, and so far having the two most horny characters on the show together has been incredibly entertaining.

Their heart to heart was really nice as well. Sister definitely screwed up as far as her personal life is concerned, which makes her wanting to go back to before then understandable. Tucker being able to relate with what happened in S15 when his choices came back to bit him in the ass was also really nice. Especially as he reflects how back during Blood Gulch, it didn’t seem like he had to care. Regardless of what happened, there weren’t any long-term consequences. I’d have to rewatch Blood Gulch to see how much of that is true, but for the most part he’s correct. Back then you could be as stupid as you wanted and it would work out. Even death wasn’t a big deal. Now? Well… it is. It’s not like how it was back then, and seeing Tucker reflect on that was a really good moment for him.

What else can I say? Ugh… well it ended how I expected. The second I saw the title of this episode, I immideatly went ‘they’re gonna go back to find out about the sex thing and it end sup Tucker messed it up, aren’t they?” And I was right! Yay! I didn’t see Sister deciding to indulge in selfcest coming and tbh Tucker handled the revelation better than I thought he would, but still it went as i expected. But at least we have conformation: Tucker and Sister almost did sex, but Tucker thwarted himself. Ain’t that a bitch?

Final Thoughts

This one is definitely meant to be purely a comedic episode. Which is fine since it was hilarious. Tucker and Sister’s back and forths had me giggling and Grif’s mental breakdown at pizza no longer existing had me in stitches. It was good! My only real complaint is I’d have liked some more plot, but I guess it’s better to get the funny time travel antics out of the way first before going forward. Plus hey, it was still funny, so why complain? Overall, that was indeed a s**cellent adventure.

#rvb #rvb16 #rvb reviews

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davidjjohnston3 · 3 years

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Facebook Insomnia 7.25.2021 1. I am still sad to conceptualize life in terms of fiction and the condition of fiction rather than Christianity undivided. Today I had a lot of images of Japan in my mind. I heard the phrase 'Japanese Breakfast' which is the rock-star name of the author of 'Crying at H-Mart' a famous book. I remembered someone who once dated someone who became my enemy. This person I respected I now realize and I am happy that I didn't say anything excessively stupid that would have implied I look down on her, saw her as easy, saw her as 'material to work on,' someone to have a plan for etc. I asked her once for help getting someone to interview at Deloitte for consulting only this person was in Accounting. I never really saw this person as in my league or anything to me except as a 'Curriculum Developer' I guess I outranked her and so wasn't shy of talking to / with her in official functions. Later we drank together and I said a few random things like that I stress- / binge-eat apples, like 5 apples a night. My friend once did a funny imitation of her that in retrospect sounded a little like my Taiwanese ex-girlfriend's imitation of Kaori Mochida from Every Little Thing; the funny thing I now realize is that he too had lingering affection for her despite everything. I feel he became anti-Korean racist and I don't know where he is now but in retrospect he definitely never crossed a line with her that I know of except for asking questions I would never ask. He called her by her Asian name which was something I never did in those days feeling it pretentious. 'The mysterious maiden of the Moon...' - It's a line from Yi Kwangsu's 'The Soil' in which a married man is comparing his wife with someone else like his former student. In good Korean custom since his former student once had a puppy-crush on him and gave him some corn, when her husband finds out, he kicks her to death in her pregnant stomach and this is why I oppose many things in principle such as tribalism, marriage, and for all intent and purposes the nuclear family. Yi Kwangsu is a problematic figure and as a Christian or aspiring Christian / 'Christianist' I don't recommend it. It has incredibly exquisite descriptions of women that could make you brain-dead. Yi Kwangsu also supposed Japan's occupation of Korea so that to this day talking about Yi Kwangsu can get you crucified. I also seem to recall something like '_ _-ya, you got run over by a train you one-legged prostitute; now you have to love your husband even more.' But I don't remember the context. Ironically or not 'The Soil' is the title of a Knut Hamsun novel the author of which supported Hitler; I do not. I wonder where she is now. This person got shot at a lot and I regret adding to her burdens with my sin-eater-type confessions or just shooting my mouth off when stuff happened. I had a crush on someone else and started saying I was sad I lost my virginity in college; IDK why I said anything. This person also had high alcohol-tolerance - extremely high for a female Asian - and although I could also drink a lot I always did bad self-destructive things. In the Middle Ages one form of 'trial by ordeal' was to reach your hand in to boiling water to pull out a pearl and if the boiled skin healed well you were exonerated or sth. She must be 'somebody's everything; my impossible girl.' IDK why she talked to me and I made fun of her and all my fictionalized versions of her and theories of her were derogations. Like me she played the piano. She once said '_ _ is popular' which was a burn I appreciate since I'm anti-popularity and anti-personality-cults. She went to a school part of which is Victoria College where a literary critic I admire(d) taught for many years. I am stuck in America, hounded by Satan through the personages of my Maoist biological family and 'family tree' of America torn between past and future, un-death and life; due in large part to my excessive tendency to defend myself, to lash out, to wash my hands on the outside without cleaning my 'interior mentality' to paraphrase the 'Da Xue,' or to blaspheme the Spirit in some respects, I feel. I regret talking about her and at the same time why would I talk about lesser maidens? IDK what her favorite piano-piece was as I never endeavored to enage her in discourse about art or aesthetics given she is not a 'kisaeng' or 'geisha' and I am not a museum-curator or whatever. Other people would be like 'Oh! You lke the Grande Valse Brilliante; I know you spent the summer of 2003 teaching yourself repeat-notes.' Everyone wants to drag everyone in to their mud or graves these days. Am reminded of Endo Shusaku's 'Silence' about why Jesuits would apostasize in medieval Japan. His conclusion was that the 'swamp of Japan' was too full of sensualism, the Portuguese Jesuit wanted a Japanese mistress or wife. I once yelled 'swamp f-ggot' at someone due to their tendency to emotionalize and 'contextualize' everything which was an underhanded way of trying to make me change my sex as well. In an effort to mitigate some of the tempting evil pornographic things I said about KR over the years I said a few more but this is a person, whose name means 'Pearl' as in 'the pearl of great price for which oe sold everything else.' It is said that AAPI Twitter, America, house-slave Am-Kor own-goal Korean self-exploitation honor-killing squadsters, etc. want to these people in the trash. I found my Gideon Kor-Eng NT Psalms with the 'victory song' that sounds like Mandarin in its Revelation, that I had worried I'd lost. That might be the 'most grateful' thing that 'happened.' I also remembered what my Mandarin name used to be though I had many in different classes I took. I was going to say many things, but in the end: the mystery of Charity.

I never considered the full implications of socialism or mental socialism till today. I assumed that it was valid mitigation. Some are born rich, some are born poor, it's wrong to let the latter starve on principle alone. I don't even know how to say this. I remember during the Iraq War being struck by how much the government - like my mom - was asking outsiders for advice about how to fight. Dick Cheney got in trouble. Years later I was skeptical of the F-35 because a lot of idiots with no skin in the game wanted to build it here or there. Wisconsin wanted to build the 'Littoral Combat Ship' which who cares. It made people worse and worse. The only thing is, the CCP - who ultimately serve I dare not even say whom, but clearly not the ghosts of Karl Marx or Vladimir Lenin or perhaps even Mao Zedong - figured out awesome killer ways to troll Republicans like Scott Walker w/ their 'FoxConn Fallujah hokey-pokey' whereby they got an avowed capitalist to promise socialists something that actually came from-post-hyper-anti-socialist hyper-capitalists with a plan to kill all white people or something. My father used to talk about the University of Chicago School of Economics all the time and it made me sulkily ask myself why 'Poor Dad' is talking so much about stuff that supposedly makes people billionaires while Jacob's English major dad is Bloomberg's 'chief of staff.' I say again it's just like Biden saying all the right stuff, 'knee on the neck of the American soul, bone of our bone, winter of peril, hey dumbfuck, articulate, they're killing people.' Writing grant-proposals to the government to fund private research in to brain-injury that is itself applied by the government to veterans sent to get brain-damaged by a government that said good things and did retarded things based on their readings of the good things they said a bit like Karenin in 'Anna Karenina.' I remember when George W. Bush said 'I'm the decider.' I once told my dad to get out of my face so he got really sloshed up and vapored, 'I'm in your face!' I'm not even saying that to defame someone but welcome to reality. Every so often every male seems to try to man up then they defend themselves like, 'No that is not the way in which I meant that I was manning up.' You could call this 'self-draft-dodging.' It's ancient history but if I had been wiser I would have tried to predict the future for myself rather than visualize it as an abstract spectatorial notion. At day's end mental socialists can literally not understand why it is wrong to steal. Stealing is compulsory under socialism - I again come back to 'Pearl' since her ex-suitor and I used to reflect on how Korean collectivism drove people into themselves. Similarly mental socialists cannot but hoard 'capabilities' so that in the end they'll falsify anything, steal anything; the only limit I guess is living with themselves.

I keep giving myself to fantasy and coping of all kinds like a 'mental Changrae Lee novel, mental David Guterson novel,' or ultimately Vergil (Virgil). There has to be a new music, a new dream, something, a new city, though it is odd to think about pre-Christian times and a legend of what came before Rome in a Christian moment amid realignment in 'late Roman history.' My favorite YAL book still perhaps is 'The Giver' since it deals with the uses of history, with abortion, and with escape or exile. I was going to say a while back something about 'Light in August' which relates to escape - as well to complacence - and to interracial relationships, pregnancy, the right to live. I was in Minneapolis but mind was on Japan, on all these swords, not the Olympics but histories of swords and strange armor, halberds. There was a huge sword called a 'field sword' in translation. I don't even want to see these people again; I sincerely pray the Japanese Prime Minister, the men and women of their armed forces, Tokyo's apparently amazing counter-terrorism and response capabilities for NBC / WMD / etc. attacks since the Aum Shinrikyo Sarin subway attacks and maybe their counter-nuclear or ability to respond after a nuclear blast will be enough. People in America are trying to live by a little of the old, a little of the new, but it seems utterly impossible. When people abuse me I get really dreamy. I read Virgil in high school; I was thinking of 'post-Covid YAL' or so in which people are just on the run, harrowing themselves, not even nostalgic for Babylon or anything in it. It is almost like 'the meaning of the soul.' I realized that in addition to new churches and new government laws Covid will engender new birth-defects and there will have to be new medicine. Japan is a country that I said bad things about especially when in Korea but she never did anything bad to me - I remember playing 'Final Fantasy' and thinking someone out there loves me; they made an investment in children worldwide. The only thing is I'm too old for such adventures and I fall apart quickly. All these birds in Japan, colors of red - people get obsessed with the Otherness of Japan and want to abnegate Belial-like (a demon or fallen angel of sensualism, to my understanding).

I took so many notes and voice-notes yesterday that I devoutly hope my visions will pass to someone. The future is going to be so beautiful for somebody but I have lost so much faith in my ability to mitigate or restrain evil. Those who I had thought were simply stupid but were diabolically opposed to my existence - whom I did not wish to understand and whom I had 'fancied' I could placate or appease through offerings - turned out to be radically evil, unconditionally evil. I feel that my father (biological) would steal my soul if he could; would eat it in a way. My mom is always sitting on the porch and gives a look of hope like I could change her mind but it'll never happen. I want to kill myself; I think things worldwide will get worse before they get better; I don't trust Biden or anyone who says the right things without showing exactly what they are doing. Christians seem so petty sometimes like melanin, hairy legs, in Japan this therefore that, Native American Indian manhood rituals. I just want to know which pastor has the 'batting average' I can believe in but it has to be John MacArthur doesn't it?

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