#makes sense i will regularly steal my friends drinks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flowersandbigteeth · 3 months

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do you have adulting adult advice for us newly adulting adults

Ummm hmmm I'm not a great role model but there are some good things to keep in mind, generally, but they are probably not particularly profound, but more pragmatic informed by some of my less than enjoyable experiences. Life comes at you fast 😭

TW: mention of domestic abuse

- opinions are cheap and people hand them out liberally. They have no idea what it's like to live as you day to day, so take them with a grain of salt, including mine!

- Don't let people rush you. Be thoughtful about your decisions. In romance, purchases, everything

- Keep a folder or binder with all of your important documents, you never know when you will have to leave a place abruptly and you want to be able to grab the important stuff quickly.

- Keep a "go bag" if you can with some useful stuff, toothpaste, travel bottles of shampoo and hair styling stuff, a brush, deodorant, some cash, tampons or pads if you use them, an outfit, etc either in your car or someplace easy to grab if you need to escape an abusive person, fire, etc.

- take a night to develop a plan in case you need to leave a job or shelter in the future. I know this sounds a little paranoid, but seriously shit happens! At least have a general idea of what you would do and who you can trust. Check what local shelters, camp grounds, motels might be available to you and their requirements and or prices.

- Jot down in a notebook all of your relationships, who you can rely on, and their phone numbers or addresses in case you need help. It's also useful to jot down the shelters or camp grounds you researched. Put it in your go bag for if you lose your phone or someone steals or breaks it. Memorize at least one phone number of someone you can rely on if you can.

- Try to brush your teeth regularly and limit super acidic drinks, dental work is very expensive even with insurance 😭

- Keep your eyes on your own plate, people and their lives are complex. You have no idea what's going on behind closed doors so don't compare your life to other people's it's a waste of your limited energy

- If you can, make a friend or two at your job that you can use as a reference who is NOT your boss, in case you need to leave the job abruptly or get fired. You can also use references from hobbies or volunteer work.

- If you can, put even as little as $10 in a savings account every paycheck, it will add up, even $100 in savings is something for an emergency (a tire, a motel room, some food, a bus ticket, etc.) If you can put a little bit of money aside it can be the difference between losing your job for an absence because you had a flat tire and not, if that makes sense. If you have more sporadic income, just put some money away wherever you can, no matter how small. I put any money I get as a gift from family into savings because it wasn't money I was even expecting to have, so I don't miss it.

- if you have a car, watch some YouTube videos on basic care. Learn how to add fluids and when to change them, and how to change them if you feel comfortable with that. Keep a full sized spare tire not the donut most cars come with if you can. Get some jumper cables and you can buy a battery charger that will jump your car without another car that you can plug in to recharge.

-if you have family that asks you what you want for Christmas ask for pragmatic stuff not treats 😅 a battery charger, a battery block charger for your phone, a warm jacket, etc.

- Sometimes you have to leave jobs abruptly for a myriad of reasons and you have to buy a new uniform (nonslip shoes or whatever) so it's good to have $50 put away for that.

- I lived in my car for awhile when I was younger, (which is why I have so much car advice, lol) so in regards to that, try to find the cheapest gym membership you can with a locker room so you can take a shower. Bonus points if it has a locker where you can store stuff. You can also find public showers at the beach if you live near one that is safe (usually during the day and during the season where the beaches are busy with families). I had a friend who lived in a campground which had a shower he could use.

- Storage units have gotten expensive, but if you can afford one, they can be useful to have if you find yourself without shelter to store your electronics and easy to steal stuff. PO boxes are around 5-10$ a month in the US to receive mail if you need that.

- If you are without shelter, be VERY careful with who you share that information with. Predators look for vulnerable people and they are really good liars.

- If you have resources to and can, get a different doctor if yours isn't taking you seriously. I went to a doc before I was diagnosed with bipolar and PTSD that literally laughed at me when I told him about my hallucinations. Fortunately, I went to a student hospital and he got swapped out with a new one when his semester ended who actually diagnosed me properly, but bad doctors exist. If they are not addressing your concerns, it's ok to "fire" them.

- I don't care what he, she, or they says, if you can, keep your own bank account even if you also have a shared one with them. Keep some money in it in case you need to leave...even if it's only for a night to go to a motel room and cool off or for a bus ticket home. Also, even if the partner is not romantic but a parent. I've had friends thrown out because someone outed them to their parents with nothing. If you can't get a bank account for whatever reason, stash cash somewhere safe and don't tell anyone.

- If you break up with someone or get kicked out change all your passwords immediately. Even if you think they don't know them, you might be logged in on other devices.

I think those were the most useful things I learned when I was younger 🤔 sorry if it's too pragmatic but the most important thing to know as a young person is that it's easier than you think to become unhoused or jobless. I grew up in the era where when you were 18 you were on your own, so I kind of internalized that you need to plan for the worst because no one is coming to save you and if they do it's a nice surprise not guaranteed 😅

There's no shame in it, either. I've been laid off because corporate decided to just close the store a few days before Christmas with 0 notice. You don't have to obsess about this stuff, just take a night and try to develop a plan to give yourself some peace of mind in the case something bad happens.

#ask #sweet asks #sweet anons

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anxious-scrambles · 5 days

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MY TAVS AND THEIR RELATIONSHIPS WITH THE COMPANIONS

Corvid

Shadowheart - He rescued her on the nautiloid then found her stranded on a beach - this beautiful woman with an air of sass and a deeply unsubtle secrecy vibe that Corvid saw and immediately went “I want this challenge, I accept this challenge”.

They are as awful as each other, both equally trying to hide behind a cool, distant demeanour they can’t quite pull off. It was incredibly easy for them to fall into one another’s orbit.

Shar, of course, was something of a blockage. Corvid was raised to believe in people and power, not gods as masters. As much as his upbringing was fucked, he still thinks hers was worse. Finding her parents and flipping off Shar while helping to save their lives will live forever in his memory.

He loves her. He adores her. She and he share the same sense of humour, the same disdain for people asking questions and the same adoration of stray dogs and weird animals. Their kids (if they ever decide to have any) are likely to be fucked up little weirdoes.

Gale - Corvid spent a good two weeks avoiding Gale as he was certain he would recognise him eventually. He had a vague recollection of seeing the Wizard of Waterdeep at Blackstaff Balls and events.

While Corvid is no longer obviously recognisable as the son of Waterdhavian Lord Dashwood, one can never truly remove oneself from the past, especially if that past is scandalous as hell.

When it finally came to light who Corvid really was, Gale laughed for about a week. Hearing stories of the young heir of the Dashwood estate having quite so many illicit romantic affairs and stealing quite so much alcohol from various private cellars, he had always somewhat admired the man.

They aren’t what you would call the best of friends, but they’re friends.

Astarion - Rivals to tolerable companions. They were either going to fuck one another or try to kill one another and unfortunately the latter won out.

If you put two deeply bitchy, highly educated lying liars who lie in a confined space for too long, the personality clash becomes too much.

Astarion and Corvid were competitive from the start, and it all came to a head when they had a massive fight at camp (mostly insults flung back and forth but it wouldn’t be rogue on rogue violence without knives involved).

Karlach made them cut it out, and while they never truly became friends they at least accepted that they were both not bad people. They are just far too similar to truly like each other.

Wyll - The brick he shat when he saw Wyll. The jig is up, the charade is over. He remembers that boy from Baldur’s Gate, that’s Ravengard’s son, right? They had snuck off to drink cheap stolen wine together and talk about people they found attractive.

Luckily neither gave the other away and their mutual history of being fucked over by their shit dads quickly turned them from awkward past acquaintances to best friends for life. Frat bros with the most annoying frat bro energy you have ever seen. Yes they do a little dancing but they push each other into hedges and down pints of ale afterwards. Trash boys. Young people. You’ve gotta love em.

Lae’zel - making fun of Lae’zel is literally Corvid’s favourite thing to do. He loves her so much and on the flipside she is waiting for the opportune moment to cut his throat.

She won’t, of course. Because Shadowheart loves him which is in and of itself extremely annoying. Chk.

Maybe the threats of death are a little overblown but she still finds him deeply, deeply irritating. Her and Astarion routinely spend nights awake plotting how to murder him.

Karlach - BABYGIRL! That’s his favourite tiefling ever!

Watch as she drinks him under the table embarassingly quickly at the Elfsong. Observe as she has to carry his drunk ass to bed regularly when he fails at functioning like a normal human being.

They are the two most likely to be walking at the back of the party, distracted by the world around them and laughing at their own jokes.

Halsin - The fact that Halsin would let Corvid climb him like a feral cat has always been endearing. The druid wears his heart on his sleeve, and while Corvid might be unwilling to reciprocate (due to being down so fucking hopelessly for Shads) he loves that he is open, emotional and direct.

Corvid hasn’t had a lot of that in his life.

If he had asked Shadowheart, maybe they would be ascending Mount Halsin together. But alas, the boy is in love and being hopelessly monogamous about the whole thing.

Minthara - she needs to smoke a bowl and calm the fuck down. That’s what Corvid would say if you asked him.

They were never going to get on, let’s be honest. They see each other as a means to an end.

Jaheira - bullying Jaheira is his second favourite thing to do. They rip on each other constantly. There’s a familiar sense of gallows humour between them which is nice to see.

Jaheira is world wise, and that kind of knowledge is valuable to someone like Corvid, a man from far away with a lot of questions that need answering. He relies on her assurance a lot.

Minsc and Boo - aspirational. Imagine going so absolutely batshit insane that you talk to your hamster on the regular.

Minsc is a but of a hero to Corvid. He is intuitive despite a lack of intelligence and is persistently cheerful and companionable. Again, this is the kind of company Corvid hasn’t known much of in his life. He would delay his own wedding to go for a drink to talk ABSOLUTE BOLLOCKS with that stone headed meat man mountain.

#oc: corvid #baldurs gate oc

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bikerjongho · 3 years

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the convenience of the ocean | ateez ot8

genre: fluff, humor

characters: college student!ateez ot8

description: ATEEZ is free from school stress and can now enjoy themselves at the beach as a vacation. Naturally, their mischievousness and playfulness shines through while they’re there as tourists.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: N/A

author’s note: the second addition to the ateez music video series! masterlist (which lists the rest of them) here. also, hakuna matata ya @itsapapisongo >:)

The small convenience store nestled between the beach and a wave of hotels normally had about only ten people in it at one time. It was a small and cute little thing, and the eight boys on their razor scooters took note of it. Once they arrived at the store, they threw their scooters down onto the ground with a clatter before entering the store and doubling the people with their presence.

The band of friends had finally booked a fun vacation together at a local beach, ready to relax and unwind from college, work, and other activities. They traded their lived-in hoodies that smelled of stress and ramen for brightly colored Hawaiian shirts, sunglasses, and flip flops. Their hair was now unkept and messy from the wind and not from the lack of sleep. The sun was finally able to grace them after being stuck inside for school, and they all were beginning to sprout a lovely tan.

Wooyoung, an immediately friendly presence in the store, was the only one that waved at the cashier as greeting before hooking an arm around San's elbow and venturing off to the frozen section to look at ice cream and other sweet treats. Yeosang and Yunho murmured to each other about snacks in the snack section, while Mingi sat and stared at a sunglasses rack that was parked near the front of the store. Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and Jongho headed off to look at the soda, the only item in the store they intended to leave the store with.

And there was no intention of buying the soda. "That's a really small shop," San had commented as they rode down the boardwalk on their wheeled chariots. "We could probably steal soda from there." He had said it as a joke, but the more the group talked about it as they rode, the more they all were infected with the rush of stealing something.

The stealing wasn't for malicious purposes - they all had money, and they all didn't regularly steal from businesses. But the thought of being sneaky, dastardly, and just a little bit annoying after putting up with strict rules, homework, and constant vigilance that came with school taunted them like a devil with sin. And soda was not something that would be missed from a store, and they all agreed that it was delicious. "Let's never do this again," Hongjoong said seriously as they rode on their scooters, but he was smiling.

So it was set that the boys would steal a few cans of soda from a small beach convenience store. Everyone was put perfectly into place so the plan could be executed without a hitch. San and Wooyoung were meant to be a loud distraction, and it worked like a charm. Wooyoung made loud commentary about how mint chocolate ice cream was delicious, and San, who liked mint chocolate, argued that it was disgusting. Everyone's attention was focused on their chitter as Hongjoong, Jongho, and Seonghwa reached the soda aisle.

Jongho reached the soda first and, without preamble, began taking cans and unloading them into his bottomless swim trunks. Seonghwa strutted up to the aisle and shoved a few into a backpack he was wearing. Hongjoong threw the remaining soda into a floppy and summery bag that rested in the crook of his elbow. Wooyoung and San's bickering carried through the store, hiding attention from the three soda stealers.

Yunho and Yeosang continued to chat about snacks as the shelf of assorted snacks stared back at them. While they were all for the soda stealing, Yunho had pointed out that there needed to be a few normal people in the group since they were a large crowd. "Yeosang, you didn't just tell me you don't like animal crackers," Yunho sighed, the true expert of snacks and did not discriminate when eating them. "That's sacrilegious." He said this casually, easily, coolly, as Yunho usually was, which only stirred up Yeosang.

"What can I say, I just prefer things with a bit of tart," he replied, his soothing voice audible underneath San's emotional and loud damnation of mint chocolate ice cream.

Meanwhile, Mingi's job of staring at sunglasses and keeping the attention of the cashier was working a little too well. The cashier, a girl with short black hair and an ocean blue shirt, was staring at Mingi like she had never seen a man before. He pretended to not notice but still felt his knees turn into mush. She was pretty, after all. He turned his attention back to the sunglasses and found a few pairs that he really liked, though he knew they wouldn't be buying them anyway, considering that they were stealing soda.

Yunho and Yeosang appeared behind Mingi. "We're done," Yeosang said, which was code that their soda stealing had been a success. He tugged on Mingi's shirt.

"I genuinely like these, though," Mingi argued, picking up a dark and round pair of sunglasses. "And we're at the beach. It would make sense to have a pair."

"You know we can't get it," Yunho said sternly, which sounded like they didn't have enough money for the sunglasses. That wasn't the case, but they all agreed before that it would be weird to steal soda but buy anything else from the store. "Maybe later in the vacation."

The three main soda stealers were flocked together, now at the front of the store. The only one out of the three of them that seemed remotely suspicious was Jongho, with conspicuous lumps in the pockets of his red swim trunks, but they were only noticeable if a passerby really stared at his legs. And still, the cashier could not stop looking at Mingi. Wooyoung and San were trailing behind them, their mint chocolate debate prolonged and not just an act anymore. Hongjoong nudged them so they could be quiet. All they had to do was leave the store.

"Nothing caught your eye? That's too unfortunate," the cashier said as they all headed to the door to leave. Jongho looked like a deer caught in headlights, and he put his hands at his sides to cover up his pockets. Hongjoong nudged him.

"No, just looking," Hongjoong laughed. He slung his bag full of soda from the store closer to his body and gave a genuine smile to the cashier, who returned it. A few of them were staring adamantly at the floor like they had never seen floor before.

"Your sunglasses are really nice," Mingi commented, pointing over to the rack where he was at, giving a small grin to the cashier.

"But we don't need any," Seonghwa said, looking a little too firm. He nudged his head to the door.

"We don't want to spend too much money while we're here," Yunho added, nodding so genuinely to the cashier that the rest were convinced that he was telling the truth.

The cashier looked back and forth between Mingi and the sunglasses rack, caught in between two thoughts. Then, putting a finger over her mouth for them to be quiet, she pulled out a twenty dollar bill of her pants pocket and slid it into the cash register. "It's twenty dollars, right?" She asked, while Mingi's mouth hung open as the gears inside his head clicked. "Go ahead and take one, it's fine. I paid for it."

"Thank you!" A few of them cried immediately. Hongjoong's bag on his shoulder was now significantly heavier. Mingi carefully took the pair of sunglasses that he liked off of the rack and immediately put them on.

"Thanks so much!" He said, nodding gratefully to the cashier. The rest of them looked like they wanted to strangle him for leaving them in the store any longer. If only the cashier knew what they were doing with the soda.

"Well, have a nice day!" San sang to the cashier. They hauled themselves out of the store, Mingi, decked out in his new pair of shades, and the rest of them embarrassed by the cashier's blind kindness.

"Mint chocolate is the superior ice cream flavor," Wooyoung said to San, the first words spoken now that they were outside.

"It's really not," Hongjoong sighed. "My God, let's never do this again."

"We should do this again," Jongho said gleefully and pulled out a can of Coke from his swim trunks. Mingi and Yeosang also went directly for Jongho's swim trunks and pulled out their own cans from his pockets.

"You all act like you've never had soda before," Seonghwa judged, pulling out a can of his own from his backpack.

"Am I the only one that feels bad about this?" Hongjoong said. They all nodded at him, and Hongjoong sighed in defeat.

"Have a soda, Joong," San said cheerfully and pulled out a soda from Jongho's bottomless soda pockets and held it out for him. "Isn't their slogan 'you aren't you when you're thirsty?'"

"Snickers," Yunho and Wooyoung said in sync, looking at each other and sighing. Hongjoong looked at the Coke in San's hands before shaking his head and taking it.

"I guess what's done is done," he sighed before cracking it open and taking a sip. A few of them grinned as they watched him drink it.

"Well, that raised my adrenaline, I say we go to the beach," Yunho said cheerfully. "I'd like to get pummeled by a wave."

"Me too," Jongho sang, bouncing on the heels of his feet, already moving onto the next part of their day.

The boys began traversing towards their hotel to change, a bright yellow building that faced towards the ocean. "So," Mingi said as they walked into the hotel's main floor, "we can all agree that the cashier was into me?"

"Yes," they all chorused to him.

"If you didn't see it, you're as blind as a bat," Seonghwa grinned. Mingi adjusted his sunglasses, now carrying a new meaning, and smiled.

Through some miracle, they all fit in the elevator on the way up, but separate trips had to be made on the way down for beach supplies. They traded their Hawaiian shirts and loose t-shirts for tank tops, and their cargo pants for swim trunks.

Jongho took the pleasure of carrying all of the boogie boards down the elevator and out to the beach. Coupled with his overflowing red swim trunks and flip flops that slapped the ground every time he took a step, he looked like an excited little kid ready to be knocked out by a wave. Hongjoong brought a cooler filled with water bottles and a book for himself to read, and Seonghwa was sure to remember the sunscreen.

"Remember when I got that sick tan last summer?" Wooyoung grinned, watching Seonghwa fill his bag with a can of sunscreen.

"I remember, you looked like a Cheeto," Seonghwa said sweetly. He held out the sunscreen for him. "You should put this on."

Yeosang and Mingi were eager to carry all of the buckets and shovels for sandcastle making. How Yunho had acquired this absurd amount of buckets and shovels, they didn't know, but none of them were complaining. San had proposed a sandcastle making contest, so they were all eager to put his tools to good use.

For one last activity, Wooyoung made sure to grab a kite and a volleyball before exiting the hotel room. Soon enough, they were all on the beach.

San, eager to be soaking wet as soon as possible, ripped off his t-shirt and dove into the water, Wooyoung following in tow. Since there was a volleyball net nearby, Hongjoong, Yeosang, Jongho, and Yunho set themselves up for a match: Hongjoong and Yeosang versus Jongho and Yunho.

"Two-ho for the win," Yunho danced while Jongho nodded cheekily and picked up the volleyball. Hongjoong looked at Yeosang and shook his head. Yeosang reciprocated.

Decked out in a sleeveless tank top, there were more than a few girls that glanced at Jongho as he raised his muscled arms and served the ball over to the other side of the net. On the same leaf, San was looking too much like a model as he pushed his hair back every time came up from the water, chest fully exposed. However, the imagery of a swimsuit model was frequently ruined by Wooyoung, who was eager to tackle and splash him down into the waves.

Mingi had taken it upon himself to use the sandcastle equipment first, and was now digging a hole in the sand. "Can you cover me in sand when I'm finished?" He yelled to San and Wooyoung, who were more than happy to oblige. But from the way Mingi was digging, it was less of a trench and more of a completely vertical hole. Seonghwa had taken Hongjoong's book and was relaxing in a beach chair, his dark hair blowing in the salt-filled wind, making him look relaxed and regal.

And they did this for a while. Each time the volleyball teams scored, a stressful thought from the previous semester was swept away in the waves. Seonghwa became engrossed in Hongjoong's book and forgot all about grades he wasn't too proud of. San and Wooyoung washed away their worries in the waves. Mingi was shrieking too much while sand filled up his lower half in the hole to think about being stressed.

There was always something about the ocean, despite it being a sticky and hot summer day, despite the sand that was filling up in their pants, despite the screaming infants on blankets around them, that made it able to cradle and wash away any negative emotions from seasons past. The boys soaked in the sun and let the cold waves take them away.

In a few hours, the sun had lowered and painted a stunning pink and orange display across the sky. After a quick dinner break, the boys were back on the beach for their long-awaited sandcastle contest.

Wooyoung had rounded up a small boy to be the judge of their sandcastles. "I didn't round him up," Wooyoung groaned to Hongjoong while Hongjoong eyed him suspiciously. "He started playing with me and San in the water, now we're friends. And he said he'd judge our sandcastles! It'll be fine."

Sebastian, the boy, sat in the sand building his own sandcastle, making him the perfect judge. He couldn't have been more than six years old and had wild and curly black hair.

A few of the boys squatted down and waved to him, while Wooyoung ruffled his hair and gave him a squeeze. "Make sure to give me first place, okay?" He said and winked to Sebastian.

"If your sandcastle is good," Sebastian said wisely.

Ultimately, everyone decided that four teams of two would be best. The groups of two sat evenly spaced from each other: Yunho and Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Jongho, Mingi and Seonghwa, San and Yeosang.

"You have until Mommy says I need to go," Sebastian said, and they all looked to see his mother reading a book intensely a few feet away in a chair. They'd have unlimited time.

So the sandcastle match began: Yunho and Wooyoung opted for an old-time stone castle, complete with a drawbridge and moat for water. Wooyoung put little balls of sand at the bottom of the trench that he was digging for the moat. "They're alligators," he said, and Yunho rolled his eyes.

Hongjoong and Jongho chose a towering and thin castle that was remniscent of the one from Sleeping Beauty. Jongho suggested a dragon snaking around one of the towers, and Hongjoong tried his best to make one, but it ended up looking like a dog rather than a fierce winged creature. "Just tell Sebastian it's a flying dog, he'll think it's neat," Jongho murmured as he side-eyed Hongjoong's work.

Mingi and Seonghwa decided to make a mansion rather than a castle. With Seonghwa's attention to detail, the windows and ceilings of the mansion were pristine and perfect, while Mingi created the most structurally sound foundation for the house.

"Doesn't Bowser have a castle?" San asked Yeosang. The two of them ended up creating a rendition of Bowser's Castle, complete with fire jutting out of the sides and a moat filled with molten lava. San didn't have molten lava on hand to make it realistic, so they took Jongho's red beach towel and stuffed it into the moat.

They had all been watching Sebastian's mom carefully, and when the amount of pages she had left grew shorter and shorter, they rushed to finish up their castles.

"We totally won," Wooyoung grinned to everyone. He gestured to his and Yunho's classic stone sandcastle. It was impressive, but it was up to Sebastian to decide who would win.

Hongjoong's winged-dog looked menacing on his and Jongho's sandcastle, and the sole mansion made by Mingi and Seonghwa was a dream home.

"But does your castle have Bowser?" Yeosang asked, and gestured to his, San's, and Bowser's castle, where a mini Bowser stood at the front, claws out and mouth open in a roar.

"What do you think?" Yeosang continued, directing his question at Sebastian, who looked thoughtfully at them all. Sebastian had eight sets of eyes on him.

"Don't you want to live in a mansion?" Mingi whispered.

"Dog with wings, Sebastian," Jongho implored.

"Lava moat," San said.

"There's alligators in our moat," Wooyoung countered.

Sebastian looked back and forth at the four sandcastles. He stood up and walked around them, inspecting every inch of each. The boys held their breath when Sebastian walked by them like they were inexperienced chefs being judged by the master chef.

Finally, Sebastian stopped. He pointed to Jongho and Hongjoong's dragon-dog castle. "That one."

Jongho and Hongjoong erupted into victorious roars. Jongho picked up Hongjoong and spun him around while shouting while the rest of them shook their heads in defeat.

"But I liked all of them," Sebastian clarified, dragging his foot in the sand shyly. "I just liked the dog with wings."

"My terrible dragon won," Hongjoong sobbed.

Wooyoung dramatically slumped his shoulders. "Sebastian, I believed in you," he sighed, but went over and gave a pat on the head to the boy. "Thank you for being an excellent judge." The others murmured in agreement, and Sebastian gave a toothless and happy smile.

After Sebastian left with his mom, the eight boys agreed that it would be best to sit and watch the sun set while they admired each other's sandcastles. Hongjoong passed around their stolen sodas as they watched the last of the sun's rays wink over the horizon.

"If today went like this, tomorrow will be crazy, I'm sure," Yeosang said, content.

"We could upgrade and steal a table from a restaurant," Mingi suggested. "Or just Jongho could, since he's strong."

All of them laughed at that. "But today really was a great day," Seonghwa smiled. "Something about the ocean."

"Something about the ocean," a few of them agreed. The last of the sun vanished from view, turning the ocean water to a dark and deep blue. As they all settled together and turned their attention to the dark water, the eight of them casted a willowy silhouette against the sand as the moon peaked out and signaled the end of their day.

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akutagawasbitch · 4 years

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Aku, Atsushi, Chuuya, Higuchi, and whoever u want--how do they act when they're black out drunk??? Absolutely shit faced?

Of course my love, I had so much fun writing these. Let the crack commence <3

Chuuya

As we all know he can fly but when he's drunk he'll fly into shit all the fucking time. The side of a building, random walls, the window of his penthouse. You name it he's probably flown into it and face planted it while drunk

He also suffers from short man syndrome and will not hesitate to punch anyone. He has been kicked out of many bars for throwing the bartender when they cut him off

He likes to flirt but when drunk, he turns into a mess. Slurring his words, mixing up pickup lines and or just forgetting how to speak. It's all happened to him before but if dazai is around? He turns into the best womanizer in all of Yokohama for the sake of his pride

His favourite drunk food is ramen, he'll make shitty 99 cent ramen in his penthouse and devour it

His normally refined palette goes out the window

While he can be aggressive, if you're friendly to him, Chuuya will be your friend and be an absolute sweetheart back. He's made many a friend on drinking nights who he never remembers but they remember him

Amazon and drunk Chuuya are his wallet's greatest enemy

He will spend hours scrolling through and buy himself the stupidest shit ever

He once bought a massive playhouse because he wanted one

He'll also buy himself hats

Buys ridiculous shit and has it delivered to Dazai's apartment

One time he had hair removal cream disguised as shampoo order and dazai used it

Loves to dance while drunk

He will fucking get down with any song and is amazing at dancing

Loves going to karaoke bars, gets super into it. He will sing any song and is always surprisingly good at it.

Passes out super quickly and easily so he never stays out too long

Dazai

Doesn’t like drinking too much as it reminds him of when him and Oda would go to Lupin together.

When he’s drunk, he swears he can hear Oda talking to him telling him what an idiot he’s being.

He’s either an incredibly happy and elated drunk or a horribly suicidal depressed drunk. It depends on how much he has to drink. If he’s tipsy, he laughs a lot and feels a genuine sense of happiness, not the fake happiness he feels most of the time. If he is blackout drunk, he’s depressed and highly suicidal but in a more serious way. No more mushrooms or trying to drown himself, he goes for knives and pills but he always wakes up.

He will trip a lot and be incredibly clumsy when drunk. His bandages come undone which he doesn’t notice causing him to trip on them. This happens regularly

When drunk he’s more prone to bumping his head on things since he isn’t paying attention. Ceilings, fans, lights, door frames. No matter what drunk dazai is a tall bastard with no spatial awareness

His flirting goes through the roof when drunk. He will flirt with anything that moves, he does not care.

You know what else goes through the roof when he’s drunk? His d- appetite. This man can rival Kenjii or Atsushi in how much he can eat when drunk. He orders 6 different plates of crab and devours them like he’s never eaten in his life.

His self restraint goes out the window and he’ll go break into Chuuya’s apartment just to mess with him and steal his hat or something along those lines. Drunk Dazai loves to fuck with people.

He’s also more relaxed and will happily let Naomi or Yosano do his makeup if they asked nicely enough. He’d brag about how he’s the “prettiest princess of them all” before passing out

Aku

You think Akutagawa has no filter? Wait until you meet drunk Akutagawa. This man doesn’t even know what a filter is.

He deadass looks at Chuuya and stares at him before commenting “You’re short” with a deadpan look.

He also has a surprisingly high tolerance and enjoys strong alcohol over wine.

His lack of filter gets him into trouble more often than not and he gets into fights a lot. He actually uses his fists while drunk over using Rashomon mainly because he can barely speak a word without hiccuping

He has trouble speaking, he either hiccups through every sentence or slurs his words to the point where they are unintelligible

He is more chatty than normal but don’t expect a Dazai or Chuuya level of chatter.

He likes to drink spiked teas

He does enjoy drinking with others and enjoys accompanying Chuuya on nights out

He will devour a massive bowl of curry while drunk. He rarely eats when sober but when drunk? He’ll eat anything put in front of him

He is still pretty quick on his feet and agile but he is prone to falling over

He literally once woke up Gin because he fell over their couch when walking into their apartment and he just lay on the floor cursing out the sofa

He’ll roast the fuck out of Dazai and Atsushi while drunking and make various death threats

Aku ends up being rather protective of others while drunk and has scared of a number of creepy men making advances on uninterested women, he’s like a guard dog in that regard

He will pass out fairly quickly once he gets home, refuses to pass out anywhere other than his bed

Higuchi

As we found out in the PM Onsen CD, Higuchi cries when she’s drunk. She’ll cry over a cute puppy or cry over a mission going wrong or she’ll just cry because she got praise from Akutagawa.

She also will talk for hours on one specific topic. Either its Akutagawa or something completely random. She’ll rarely talk about her sister but when she’s drunk she’ll open up more about her and tell everyone how much she loves her sister.

She is also a lightweight and will pass out fairly quickly

She likes sweet things when drunk and will eat something sweet that’s near her.

She also has to hold Akutagawa back from fighting people or prevent him from getting punched because his no filter talk insulted the wrong person

She isn’t an aggressive drunk but an emotional one.

Gin

Gin isn’t a big talker, but she’ll talk more if she is drunk drunk and comfortable enough with the people she is drinking with

She will laugh a lot while drunk and smile but it's hard to tell with her mask on

Gin as we all know is insanely fast and agile but when she’s drunk? All her agility goes out the window and she will face plant the floor if she tries any of her tricks.

I think she has a sweet tooth, so I can see her enjoying mochi ice cream while drunk

She also would love to watch people do karaoke, she won't participate since she’s too shy but seeing Chuuya and everyone else do it makes her laugh so hard her sides hurt

She lets out her more soft side and tries to pet all animals she sees

She once stole a duck and brought it home, Akutagawa wasn’t happy

Atsushi

He will be a mess

100% a giggly drunk, he’ll find everything funny, even Kunkida’s dad jokes.

He’ll accidently activate his ability and be walking around with a tail and not even notice it.

Speaking of his tail, when drunk he likes to chase it as he gives into his more cat like tendencies, Dazai has a video of Atsushi chasing his tail for a good 20 minutes

This boy will devour an entire restaurants worth of chazuke, if he could while drunk

He likes to climb trees and he’s good at it, Kunida once found him at the top of a tree curled up asleep

He’s also more blunt and will roast the fuck out of Akutagawa

He also roasts Dazai a little bit but not as much as Akutagawa

He likes to transform into is tiger form and nap when drunk

He’d probably curse and then say fuck because he cursed and then just spiral into a stream of fucks

He will try catch cats to cuddle, he once followed a cat two blocks just to pet him

I imagine him enjoying amusement parks so he’d go to once while drunk and have the time of his life until he got nauseous on the rides

I also imagine he like play video games so when drunk he’ll do that and have the time of his life

Suddenly sweet baby atsushi is cursing and swearing like a sailor

He’ll pass out pretty quick and once he’s passed out, he’s out like a light for the rest of the evening.

Junchiro

He likes his alcohol delivered in baked goods

He will try drunk bake/cook

He will pass out quickly and just cuddle his own sweater

He tries to flirt with women but naomi does not like it

My man will be shirtless trying to make a souffle at 2am

This was so fun to write, I’m sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoy this crack <3

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amindofstone · 3 years

Text

Match-up, No. 1

Anon asked:

"oh hi hello! i just saw the match up posts and i got super excited cause i love your writings and i never had to chance to send an ask like this lol! i'm 19 years old but i'll be 20 this year. i'm pretty tall for a girl (173 cms!) but still i'm on the chubbier side because i eat a lot and im proud of it lol. i have green eyes, and raven black hair, medium length with short bangs, because i dye it regularly, but normally i'm a blonde! also idk if this matters but i'm straight!

i really like cooking, it's a big passion of mine, i also love singing! music is a big part of my life, i cannot go a second without listening to something and i've always been like this. even though i'm not talented about it, i love to listen to it. i'm a big hopeless romantic so i'm a sucker for anything that's romantic, like movies, songs, books etc! i really wish nothing but for real and pure love! i also collect toys and figures cause i didn't had the chance to buy them when i was little.

i really dislike being left alone. i don't have many friends or loved ones, but whenever i have to leave them for something it hurt's me a lot. i don't like too much people around me but i really adore the ones who i care about. other than that, i hate the way i look most of the time. since i was a little girl i was never comfortable with my body and had lots of issues with it but im trying to do my best to love myself!

i know this was too long but i couldnt stop myself so i hope its okay! im so much lookinf forward to this match up thingy! thank u soooo much for the chance! take care ❤️"

a/n: First of all thank you so much. I'm so so glad to see that you like my work. This is a great motivation for me to keep writing. This really made my day. 💙 And I really hope that you'll be liking what will come next. I really hope that I didn't disappoint you my dear anon. This is my first time doing something like this and going honest I'm really insecure and anxious when it gets to my work. I'm never happy or satisfied by the outcome... But that's not the point. It's about you. So if there is something bothering you please don't hesitate and DM me or anything and tell me. Other than that happy reading! 🙈

Match up rules can be found HERE.

Warning(s): maybe some grammatical or spelling mistakes since English is my third language and I'm still improving in every aspect. (Please have mercy on that))

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. Please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture is not mine. Credits to: Lord know who. IF anyone knows who did it please tell me so I can give credits. Thank you. :) !!!

• I think that you and Sanji would give a great pair.

• There are a lot of traits of you that resemble that of Sanji in my opinion. And exactly this was the reason why Sanji started to spend more time with you and get to know you more than Nami or Robin.

• Whenever Luffy screams from the top of his lungs "SANJI! FOOD!!" you scream back from wherever you are right now "Gimme a minute and I'll get you something!", before Sanji can react to the food loving man.

• Sanji loves it when you join him cooking because you two seem to be able to work together without having to communicate. But even if Sanji would like to talk to the beauty that was next to him he wouldn't dare saying a word because as much as he loved talking to you he loved listening to you sing while you prepared anything you were on at the moment. Sometimes he would just stop in his tracks and just watch you dance around the kitchen whenever one of your favourite songs starts to play in the radio. He would watch every of your moves and smile like a idiot.

• After some time passing Sanji manned up and asked you out in the most romantic way. Sanji prepared a picnic with some snacks under that one tree with the wing (I hope you know what I mean 😂). Everything was set. You were in the girls cabin reading a novel when you heard a light knock. You didn't look up and just told whoever was there to come in but the person simply knocked another time what made you stand up with a scuff. You were ready to scold anyone that was there for ruining your peaceful reading session but there was no one except of a huge bouquet of red roses. It had a little note in it saying that someone is waiting for you down on deck. With a huge smile on your lips you stepped out of your room just ro realise that the way down to the deck was decorated by flower pedals. The sight in front of you made your heart race. You didn't wanted the feeling that grew with every second in you to stop. But you made it down and was greeted by the blond man you were always fond of. He took your hand in his and lead you to the swing and made you sit down.

• He took both of your hands in his and looked you in the eyes while giving the most sweetest confession ever made. And of course you said yes and wanted to date him

• dating him was the best thing that happened to you. He was sweet and caring. He spend every free second with you. If you were close to him he would always grab your hand and intertwine them. Sometimes he would appear out of nowhere and give you a kiss and compliment a different part of your body just to leave you dumbfounded and confused with a racing heart.

• There was this island the straw hats docked on and to their luck there was a festival planned for the night of the day they came. So Nami and Robin took you shopping and made Sanji go have fun on his own. Unlike these two you wanted something fancy that wasn't a dress but they still brought a few for you to put you in later on. And they managed to get you in a short sleeveless pretty blue-black dress. They did your make-up and theirs and ran out when Franky yelled that the fireworks were about to get blown what was the sign for the beginning of the festival. But you didn't came out because you felt uncomfortable in your current state.

• Sanji sensed that something was wrong and made his way to you only to find you standing in front of the mirror and looking at yourself with a tilted head and slight pout. Sanjis eyes widen at the sight of you. Because of 1. He couldn't believe how good that dress locked on you 2. He was shocked because he knew that you didn't like the way you looked.

• "How dare you!? How dare you not love this beautiful sight?! Baby! Darling! Love! Please don't. You look stunning. Simply gorgeous now please allow me to take you to the festival and brag with the fact that I can call the most beautiful woman mine."

• As you can see Sanji doesn't, can't and won't tolerate you being insecure so he took it upon himself to push your ego and make you love yourself as much as he loves and adores you.

• On the festival Sanji would never let go of you. He would constantly have you close to him so he could protect you no matter what happens. He makes sure to once in a while ask you if you're alright or if you want to go back to the sunny since he knew that you're not a fan of crowed places.

• Sanji left you alone for a few minutes but sat you down on a less crowded and also quieter place to get some drinks. You were happily looking at the ocean when a guy approached you and started a conversation with you. You were clear not liking it but still tried to talk nicely. But the guy seemed to understand your friendliness in a different way and got closer. You told him to keep a distance but he laughed it away and simply acted as if you said nothing. You felt uncomfortable and suffocated so you were about to stand up when Sanji came and kicked him out of the chair with a sweet smile upon his lips saying "Thank you for keeping my seat warm but now move your pathetic stupid ass away and leave me alone with my girl."

• When the guy left he took you in his arms and apologised while sitting you down on his lap while asking you probably a bunch of times of you're doing good or if he hurt you.

Bonus:

• While Sanji confessed his love to you Zoro was in the crows nest watching you two with a disgusted and confused look while silently praying for you to reject him but sadly you didn't. In fact you even kissed him. "TF is that stupid woman doing?!"

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toukenramblings · 3 years

Text

Modern AU: House Husband!Kasen Kanesada

I WON’T LIE THAT I THOUGHT ABOUT HOUSE HUSBAND KASEN A LOT DURING WORK LMAO. ENJOY

Warnings: Sfw+Nsfw, BAD POETRY

SFW

Kasen is no doubt an early riser, but more so along the lines of reluctant riser. He values his sleep no doubt, and will mumble and grumble as he slowly opens his eyes and wakes up. Kasen is also a kind of man who needs caffeine (tea or coffee, depends on what he’s feeling like at the time and his coffee has to be extra sweet with a cute little whipped cream swirl on top, don’t ask) to fully function. He’s sluggish when he wakes up. A kiss will be just as nice as his morning drink too! He will flush when you give him a morning kiss but will happily kiss you back before telling you to go brush your teeth.

Kasen is also pretty damn good at cooking. Will also stylize his dishes and post them to social media. But he is also posting poetry, aesthetically pleasing shots, and hes that one aesthetic blog on social media or something. His captions on food pics aren’t flashy or anything of the sort, it’s just a mere post and maybe a lil haiku in the description of how proud he is to have made it, or something of the sort!

Most of the posts on his social media are beautiful shots of you, framing your gorgeous self and of course the caption is just a poem that spans like 50 pages of how much he loves you.

When he gets up, he’ll help you chose your clothes for work! Most of the time it’s done the night before, set out on your desk or something.

Your lunch always has a little note tucked into it, most likely a poem of encouragement.

Date nights are always consisting of book reading, poetry writing, or dance nights! It doesn’t have to be out of the house but if it is, damn right is Kasen going to look BEAUTIFUL. Will make sure you two have matching outfits. Also adores it when you two match, wittingly or not!

Is not shy about sharing clothing with you. Sure perhaps it’s smaller/bigger for him to wear but who the hell cares???? He loves you and damn right he will show it off! Flushes when you wear his clothing and will shyly admit that he adores it.

Kasen is a bit of a shopaholic. He also has a bit of a habit of impulse buying things: stuff you like, stuff he likes, matching items for you two to wear together. Hell shopping dates are common between you two! Sure Kasen will try to steal the bags from you and forbid you from holding his stuff but it's just showing that he cares. You're his muse after all, don’t be surprised if he suddenly stops at a random store with clothing he thinks suits you! He will drop everything and drag you inside to see if anything will suit you!

Will 100% show up at your workplace to bring you lunch personally, your coworkers cannot help but be enamored with your husband, his elegance, how he walks, how he is cordial with everyone he meets but almost lights up when he sees you. Everyone teases you at work that you have such a cute husband who always leaves you with a peck on your cheek and lunch - Kasen probably has a side business of making poems to help people confess/make their partner happy!

The only PDA you’re getting from Kasen is hand-holding and cheek kisses, that’s that. Ain’t no one allowed to see your happy little face when you two kiss. You surprising him with PDA on the other hand will end him, flushed face, turns away, mumble something that it’s inappropriate before diving in to give you a taste of your own medicine.

NSFW

Shibari. Lingerie. Whatever the hell. Kasen adores a sense of beautiful elegance and will not hesitate to pick out some lingerie for you, taking in how your body is made/shaped, colors that suit you, material, what you like, so on and so forth! He’s...a regular at this one sex shop. The cashier knows Kasen by name and they regularly have debates on what kind of stuff you should wear.

Though if you surprise him with picking out something yourself Kasen will be just as happy to see you like that! Not before wanting to make you into a sobbing fucked out mess but he loves it when you have something underneath your clothing!

Sexting consists of nothing but long ass poems of EXACTLY what Kasen will do to you that night. It’s like 60 pages long but it’s WORTH IT. If you’re lucky, you’ll sometimes see HIM in lingerie, sending you naughty little pictures of what he’s wearing. And then there are audio clips that are like just him reading his naughty poetry to you. He won’t send videos often but when they do, HOOOO BOI.

“Your lips are of liquor, for even a glance at them gets me drunk. A flush against your cheeks, roses cascading down your form, dipping under the twine and silk that dares to bar my way.

“Forever let me stay within your heart, your breast, your soul, they beat as one. Our hands collide, fingers seeking with earnest, I never want to leave you.”

“Paint your body white, forever with my dear love, I am enamored.”

Nothing but body worship here my friends. Kasen will draw out paintings and poems with his tongue on your skin if he must. Hickies are placed only in the most intimate of places. He doesn’t mind marking up your neck, oh no! It’s fine but this is an art piece that only he is allowed to see.

And then we get to his tongue. He is a poet, he has a silver tongue, he knows how to use that damn thing. Will adore it when you two suck on each other’s fingers.

You two are fucking in the bedroom, that’s it. You two can tease each other all you want around the house, but the bedroom is a sacred place. He won’t lie that he hasn’t thought about fucking you in his studio/office but is also worried of making a mess. So that’s more or less off of the table.

Your wedding night was nothing short of slow and lovely, Kasen wouldn’t even initiate the act until much later. You two would just lie there in a bed, kissing and tracing each other’s forms until you are satisfied. Oh so slow languid kisses shared, hands tangling in hair. Kasen would be slow, taking his time with you. He wants to savor that moment, when you two have sex the first time as a married couple; wanting to etch that into his body and memory.

Yes Kasen might have a slight oral fixation, but you look me in the eye and tell me gagging Kasen wouldn’t be a cute as fuck sight. He never wants to be blindfolded though, he has to see you!! No way are you hiding your beautiful form from him!

Aftercare is so tender and sweet, his hands would massage every joint and every inch of your body, pressing sweet kisses and whispering praises. A bottle of water, and of course, making sure that you two are clean - bed sheets too. Gonna change those no matter how tired he is.

#touken ranbu #touken danshi #touken ranbu x reader #sin bin #my writing #touken ranbu imagine #tkrb #tkrb x reader #tkrb imagine #kasen kanesada #kasen kanesada x reader #kasen kanesada imagine #IM PROUD OF THESE KASEN HEADCNAONS PLS LIKE THEM

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shyrose57 · 3 years

Note

Brothers anon, sorry its been like 2 days since I last submitted something! I've been busy and whenever I finally had time to sit down and write this all its like 1 in the morning. I hope its still ok for me to send these.

🌹 anon ima respond to you first, your The Deal au could be the reason why and how Ranboos and Dreams soul got mixed and linked together. But then a problem is how did it pass to Ranbob? In my au, each person has their own soul basically. And while certain attributes like DNA can be passed through bloodlines, souls can't, as their unique to their person.

What left Ranbob vulnerable to Dream is that he was seen as the star student. The apprentice everyone wanted. He always got perfect grades and was seen as the smartest in the City. This did not go well. As Ranbob was put under a ton of pressure to always stay perfect and get everything right. When his grades started to slip and his chosen mentor started to put even more work on him, his mentality started to suffer. With him losing sleep and starting to not care for himself or do the basic necessities like eating or drinking, all in an effort to be "perfect". Its through this need, and weakened state over all, Dream's presence was able to slip in and convince him to let him help.

Benjamin is 30, Isaac 29, Cletus is 24, and Charles is 27.

When Ranbob first told Ran about the Dream mask and how he wasnt himself, Ran did not believe him at all. And kept saying that he needs to stop lying and fess up to what he did and pay for it. Others tried to convince him that his brother really wasn't in control of himself, but was met with strong skepticism, scoffs, and disbelief. With Ran not beliving that was the truth at all.

Watson was very shocked but quickly reorganized himself cause he had to calm Jackie, and its only after Jackie fell asleep he was like "Oh fuck. I really am the dad huh?" Jackie was embarrassed at first but after some prodding did say how he truly saw Watson as a dad figure in his life. And everyone had different reactions to Watson suddenly accepting and fitting into the dad role. Jackie was excited and immediately started calling him dad and asking him awkward dad questions "Dad whats puberty?" "Uhhh-" "Dad where do babies come from?" "Ask your dad about that!" "But you are my dad!" Ran seemed indifferent about it but Watson can tell he's revealed to have someone to talk too, and someone to go to if things get to much. Grievous keeps sating he doesn't need a dad but he's the one that goes to Watson the most for things like hugs, comfort, and advice.

Jackie and Grievous do everything. They rig the battle field so if someone steps in a certain area water will shoot up into their face, Grievous usually taunts and distracts opponents so Jackie can sneak up behind them and just latch onto them and cover their eyes while giggling like a madman as the opponent screams and runs around trying to get him off. Jackie regularly pulls peoples seat out from under them, while Grievous scares them and makes them choke or drop something. But they do know peoples limits. Like for Ran, no water related pranks (there was an incident where Grievous spilled a whole bucket of water on him and Ran got severe burns and had to stay in the hospital ward for a few days), for Watson don't mess with his bow or arrows, he will stab you. And for eachother, Jackie, no pranks that leave him alone for extended periods of time or makes it seems like everyone is gone/left. For Grievous no pranks centered around food or drinks (like putting toothpaste in his sandwich or putting pepper in his beer).

Ran and Jackie have a 50/50 win if that makes sense. They both win and lose pretty often. They play games like Spoons, Go Fish, Dart Throwing (Watson needs to be present for this one), something similar to Cards Against Humanity, Poker (everyone plays during this one), and Tic Tac Toe.

Sometimes Jackie loves being the smallest and other times hates it. He hates it when Ran steals something of his and holds it above his head, he sometimes resorts to aggressively climbing Ran to get it but Ran tends to just pluck him off, and people make fun of him in a mean natured way (he's fine with light teasing). But he loves it when he rides Ran's shoulders or can duck under peoples legs and trip em. Because he's also small and fast he's hard to catch and that definitely comes in handy during fights. No ones particularly protective of eachother (excluding Ran who's protective of everyone), because they know none of them like being babied and they can all hold their own, though they will quickly flock to help eachother if they need it. Ran definitely flaunts it whenever their in a agurement.

There is a area under the fighting arena of the pit where they stay. Theres separate rooms for everyone, training areas, dinning areas, and just chilling areas. Theres even extra rooms meant for often visiting friends (Like Genevieve) and some for storage of weapons which also holds things to sharpen them or get new ones. The Pit itself is in the middle of a gaint city, so there are tons of stores and food areas around. And because of a high salary the King gives them they go out quite often, often eating out and browsing stores when their not training or sleeping.

If by other combinations you mean like Ran-Jackie, Ran-Grievous, Watson-Jackie, and Watson-Grievous then it highly varies. Watson and Jackie are by far the worst team, their styles just don't match and constantly but heads during battles. Watson and Grievous are probably the best out of the 4 teams because Grievous can be serious and works well with Watson as he's much more willing to change his fighting style to accommodate whats needed. Ran and Jackie are like Jackie and Grievous, but they aren't nearly as insane. Rather Ran provides distractions while fighting to give Jackie time to sneak up behind them. Ran also is the only one able to actually throw Jackie, which they sometimes do during battles. And Ran and Grievous work well together, but not as much as Watson and Grievous, its just a few things of both their styles don't match or could potentially cause problems.

He's clumsy flat out, he isn't used to having full control and needs to get used to certain things like walking or talking again. He is also severely dehydrated and malnutritished because Dream didn't care enough to drink or eat. He's also incredibly skittish and scared easily. He and Cletus's relationship isn't solved fast at all, it takes months and the work of everyone to get the two comfortable around eachother. They start by putting Cletus on watching duty, where he watches over Ranbob to make sure he's eating and drinking and resting while not tiring himself out. Then after a month or 2 Isaac, Benjamin, and Charles start purposely leaving the two in a room alone toghere to get them to talk stuff out. It takes 3 months until their comfortable enough with eachother to willingly talk and hang out. Oh the house building attempts went aboustely awful. They sometimes fell on Ranbob! And when they didn't they just collapsed or got blown away by the wind, but Isaac did ofter help a few times and showed him multiple different ways to make sure the walls stay up and keep the cold out.

Ran is very unhappy with Ranbobs haunting, he thinks their kind of like Ranbob in which they've all killed people and considers them a threat at first, but when he sees how his haunting likes and interacts with Ranbob's, he losens up a bit, his group trusts them, so he has to trust them a little bit. But he doesn't trust them or like them nearly as much as he trusts and likes his haunting.

Im guessing you mean who from the two groups get along the easiest. Most of them take a while to get to know eachother, like a few hours. But after that their all really close. Charles and Jackie, Cletus and Grievous, and Benjamin, Isaac, and Watson are the groups that get along really well really fast.

Im honestly probably am going to go for them adventuring outside the City to try to get the brothers to get along again. Mostly cause I thought of the idea that what if Watson, Jackie, and Grievous all lie to Ran, and while they are actually going on an adventure, they lie to him that his brother and his group isn't coming. Then when its much to late for Ran to back out, Watson just goes "Oh yeah! Your brother and his group are traveling with us. And you can't do anything about it." And Ran just sits there shocked.

Ran and Ranbob are both subtle protective of their group. With Ranbob never really getting aggressive or going into overbearing. But for Ran, if someone in his group is injured badly enough or if there's a big enough threat he does get overbearing and extremely aggressive towards whatever/whoever the threat is *cough cough Ranbob cough*. Ranbob tends to be very physical, listening more to a certain instincts that tell him to constantly have a view on or hold his family, as if he doesnt see or touch them for a long time he gets very anxious and panicky, thinking his family is dead and that he's all alone again. His group understands this and so tends to not stray to far away from Ranbob. He will also follow his group like a lost puppy at times. Ran while listens more to the instinct that tells him at random times to make sure his family is ok and to bond with them. The bonding leads to him randomly grabbing them and just sitting down with them, most likely playing games. While the random urge to check on them has led to him waking them up during the middle of the night or interrupting his own conversation or others conversations just to ask if their ok. His took a while to understand why he does it, but now if he wakes them up or drags them somewhere, they know to go along with it and comfort him during those times.

Hybrids are rare! Especially aggressive or netural type mobs like Ran, Ranbob, and Porkius are. Their actually seen as monsters and are chased out or hunted in other city's because people aren't accepting of them. Theres very few city's like Subbin that fully welcome and are even led by hybrids. So there are more hybrids in Subbin, than there is anywhere else.

Sorry this is so long ':)

Asks are always welcome here, and don’t worry about taking a bit or anything. The questions aren’t going anywhere, there’s plenty of time.

Here’s that for you,🌹anon.

--------------------

1: Wow, Ranbob’s really going through it, huh? Does he ever start to fall back on that need to be ‘perfect’ while with the others? If so, how do they deal with that? And how is he with others offering to help him? If he even can really recall falling under Dream’s thrall, by accepting such an offer, how does he react to others doing the same, even if their intentions are far different?

2: So we’ve settled all the ages down, nice. You figure out anything for their backstory yet? And how do their ages affect their relationships with one another? Does Benjamin take the lead a lot? Or is he more of a follower that still has a lot of say? Who met who first?

3: So Ran’s obviously going to be awhile before he believes what went down. Still, I can’t imagine he’d have been as willing to go along with his hauntings little roadtrip plan if he wasn’t swayed at least a bit, since I can’t imagine he wouldn’t have put his foot down if he truly though Ranbob had done what he did. Why exactly does he go along with it? Does some small part of him want to give his brother a chance? Is he just confident he can overpower him, and looking for an opportunity to settle the score? Does he see something that makes him hope a bit? What’s going down there, anon?

4: On one hand, very adorable. One the other hand, poor Watson. Does Jackie actually not know that stuff, or does he do that just to mess with his new father figure? It seems like they all take to it pretty well overall though.

5: I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Two people to truly fear. How many people straight up forfeit when faced with this combination? It seems like they’ve had some interesting times, good and bad. How’d those play out? As for those last two, I’m sensing a bit of a backstory. Why does Grievous not like stuff being put into his food? And why’s Jackie not good with being left?

6: So it’s fifty/fifty, huh? Who wins the most at what games? And uh, Watson has to be present for Dart Throwing. What happened there? How’s everyone’s poker faces? Who’s got the best luck in games of chance?

7: A love/hate relationship with height. I feel ya, Jackie. Very funny to imagine though, Jackie just, physically climbing up Ran. How tall even is this guy?? How do they deal with meaner teasing, not just from the gladiators, but from general bullies? Not everybody’s as friendly as some of the Pit fighters, after all. And how do the fishermen react with their fighting skills? Obviously, they must know how to fight somewhat, to have entered the Pit, but the gladiators do this for a living. How much is the difference in skill level? And does the gang ever get to show off just how skilled they are?

8: Their home sounds very nice, honestly, I wished I could live there, minus the people. What’s everyone’s rooms look like? How have they personalized them? Which brings up another question-what kind of interests and hobbies do they have? What kind of things do they do that aren’t fighting and related to such? And they must be pretty well known, to have such high pay. Any of them have an arena title, or some sort of stage name? How many people can recognize the city’s top gladiators on sight? And how do they get around that, when they don’t want to be seen? How do people feel about them in general?

9: All these team ups sound terrifying, and I wouldn’t want to be facing them. How do they deal with it when they get a bad match up? Do they just stay out of each other’s way? Try to take their opponents out quick? Make it one on one? Ran and Jackie have to be my favorite team up, solely for the fact that you’ve said Ran straight up throws him. Like?? Imagine coming to the King’s Pit, a well known, popular place, hoping to prove yourself, and then getting taking out by a flying midget, just tossed at you by a ridiculously tall endermen hybrid. How would you feel??

10: Ranbob is just really going through the ringer here. How many times does he just drop stuff, or trip over his feet? Does he ever get better, or does he still retain a clumsy streak? If so, how does Ran react to that? It’s very good he and Cletus bond! Are they just as close as the others, or is there still a bit of distance? How often does Ranbob forget to eat or drink, or really just take a break? How long does it take to get him to start remembering to do that stuff again?

Does he ever slip up while with the gladiators? Also, in a room? Do the fisherman expand their house more, or do they just leave them in the house? Does Ranbob ever get his own house up? If so, does he use it at all, or is it more for storage? And how many times did he fall asleep out there, get injured, or not realize it was about to rain? How long did it take before Benjamin or Charles put their foot down and make him stay in for a bit?

Has Ranbob ever even dealt with rain before, or a storm above water? If not, how’d he react to it?

11: Oh, boy, Ran. Your concerns are understandable, but definitely going to lead to some angst. Is he just on edge the whole time? How many times does he just glare at them, or straight up steal one of his haunting back a few feet away from Ranbob’s? Are the fishermen ever worried he might hurt them?

12: How do both hybrids deal with their groups bonding? I imagine Ranbob’s pretty happy with it, but how about Ran? As you said, he doesn’t seem to be the biggest fan of these guys.

13: Roadtrip! Gotta love a roadtrip! What kind of places do they head? Any transportation, or is it just walking, enjoying nature? Do they go on an adventure to look for something cool? What’re they getting up to?

14: So Ran and Ranbob both act on their instincts in different ways. How do they feel about seeing how the other acts? What happens if any of the fishermen stray too far, or get separated from Ranbob? Same question to Ran. Ran just...like...picks up members of his haunting? Do people just see him walk around with them dangling in his arms? He must be pretty strong. How often does he do this? How else do their instincts lead to them acting? Cuddle piles, picking up blocks, keeping their groups close together, ect?

15: So Subbin’s pretty much a safe space for hybrids? Interesting. But since the groups are heading out, does this mean they run into some trouble outside of the city? And is there ever trouble within it?

Other questions: Does Karl play any further part in this, or has he already played his role for good? Does the gang ever end up back at Mizu? Do any of the group have a pet or something similar? With there be any sort of connection to other Tales, even if only slightly, or will they be solely focused on these two? Does Ranbob pick up his studies of Ranboo as best he can once he’s free, or does he leave it all behind entirely?

Thanks for the ask, this AU’s become quite interesting. I can’t wait to see where it goes!

#dream smp #Brothers AU #dream smp au #ranbob #ran #jackie #watson #grievous #tales from the smp #isaac #cletus #charles #benjamin

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anon-e-miss · 3 years

Note

Dryadprowl? But I wanna see cute baby bluestreak😘😘

“Y’re full o’ knots,” Jazz said as he lay his servo flat between Prowl’s shoulders. Prowl knew it to be true. He could feel all of them but he still flinched at the glyphs.

“I suppose,” Prowl replied, not knowing where this was heading.

“I wish I could offer ya an oil bath but we don’t even got private washracks. Gotta share it wit the entire floor.”

“I am fine.”

“Mhm,” Jazz hummed. “Hang tight. I got an idea.”

Where was he supposed to go? Prowl watched Jazz retreat to the berthroom he shared with his twins. Where it was the nanite gel or the massage, Prowl’s shoulder felt significantly better. He wondered if it was only temporary, but even if it was, if Jazz was willing to assist him again, perhaps he might be able to heal without significant complications. Jazz returned carrying a basket filled with odds and ends. As he sat down next to Prowl, he offered him a big smile. Even though Prowl could not see his optics through the visor he wore, Prowl was certain that smile reached his optics.

“Just gimme a couple o’ kliks. See if I remember how to put this thing together.”

Prowl only nodded, and he watched with both anticipation and curiosity as Jazz screwed long poles into curved pieces of metal and then screw the poles to a long, horizontal piece. It was a frame, of course, that was what it was. Jazz tested it and it rocked from side to side. The smile on Jazz’s face fascinated Prowl. There was a warmth and a wistfulness to it that Prowl could not quite understand. As he watched his captor/savour work, the thing came together. Jazz flipped the basket upside down and screwed the frame into place. When Jazz righted it Prowl felt foolish that he had not recognized the thing for what it was. This was a bassinet, a beautifully crafted one, with etchings along the trim and covering the canopy. The inside was lined with soft foam and a thick pad. It was by far the prettiest thing Prowl had ever seen.

“It is beautiful,” he said.

“My ‘genitor built it,” Jazz said with the sweetest smile. Prowl flinched internally. He could not let down his guard so easily. “He’s good with his servos. Ric’s practically his clone. But we both take after ‘m more in looks that Ori or Geni.”

“You miss them.”

“I do. Sunny ‘n Sides have only seen ‘em for a few kliks here ‘n there ‘n it’s not right. They should know their grandcreators.”

“Have you thought of slipping off with them?”

“O’er ‘n o’er. It would put the whole caravan in danger ‘n we’ve never quite made the leap. Y’re gonna be good for us, Prowl. Y’re gonna make us take the leap.”

“Oh...”

“Ori ain’t gonna just hand ya off to my genitors ‘n dust off his servos. He’s gonna wanna see ya home, whate’er ya decide home’s gonna be. I do to... Least I can do.”

“I think you have done the least already,” Prowl said. This was close to forgiveness as he was willing to offer at this point in time. His spark was still freshly wounded from having Bluestreak ripped away from him.

“Why don’t ya see how he likes it?” Jazz suggested when he finished hooking some pretty little crystal carved in the shapes of the stars and the moons to the canopy.

Prowl had hardly gone a moment without Bluestreak in his arms. The mega-cycle’s separation was the longest they had ever been apart. But they were not apart, Prowl was right here. Still, he hesitated, lightly stroking Bluestreak’s back as he considered the canopy. He did not believe Jazz was looking for an opportunity to take advantage of him, Jazz had already had every advantage. Gingerly, Prowl set Bluestreak into the bassinet and pet his chase, cooing softly. Bluestreak blinked up at him, then cocked his helm as he looked up at the mobile hanging just out of reach. Bluestreak reached for them, giggling and babbling, as he pulled his necklace to his mouth and sucked on one of the crystals. It dulled. Already he was coming into his own as a dryad, though his root crystal would not be mature enough to leave Prowl’s spark chamber for vorns yet. Out of curiosity, Prowl rocked the cradle every so gently, just to see what Bluestreak thought of it. He watched his creation’s optics dim.

“Ain’t that a pretty picture,” Jazz said. “It’s good to see it used again.”

“Have you been keeping it for your next creations?” Prowl asked

“Ain’t creatin’ again,” Jazz replied. “Ain’t right bringin’ anymore into this. I figured some mega-cycle they might have creations, so I’ve been savin’ it ‘n the one just like it for when they’re grown.”

“Thank you for lending it to him,” Prowl said.

“I thought ya could use a break,” Jazz declared. “Yer shoulders are outta alignment. Yer a bit twisted. Considerin’ the way ya were bein’ kept, it makes sense. If ya wanna lean back against the couch, I can see ‘bout maybe gettin’ ya sorted out.”

“Okay.”

Jazz was not going to hurt him. Prowl reminded himself of this fact as he hugged the pillow as he knelt backwards on the couch. His perception of Jazz behind him was fuzzy as he was standing between Prowl’s doorwings. He was close and it was intimidating, but Jazz would not hurt him. Before he began the massage, Jazz poured oil on Prowl’s back, intentionally tipping the nozzle into gaps within Prowl’s armour. It coated his protoform. When Jazz activated his magnets the oil immediately warmed and Prowl could not stop himself from sighing.

As Jazz smoothed his servos up Prowl’s back, his thumbs pressing firmly against his spinal struts, Prowl sighed. It sounded more like a moan. He was afraid Jazz would get the wrong idea but there was no sign of arousal in the Polihexian’s frame. Jazz worked his digits and the oil into Prowl’s back until the tension bled away completely. Prowl’s optics dimmed to black as Jazz massaged his shoulders and neck. While Jazz carefully worked the knots and kinks from Prowl’s cables and slowly drew his spinal struts back into line, he hummed, and Prowl found himself drifting, not into recharge but something blissfully close. His battle computer hissed caution, but Prowl’s spike of awareness faded as Jazz’s clever servos massaged oil into his poor doorwing joints.

When Jazz drew his servos back, Prowl was almost disappointed. But the massage had done exactly as Jazz had intended and Prowl felt loose-limbed and relaxed in a way he never had before. Bluestreak whimpered and Prowl scooped him out of the bassinet and cradled him in the crook of his arm. His creation started fuelling as soon as Prowl dropped him a line. He had never been so relaxed holding Bluestreak. There was no terror of dropping him. Punch and the Twins returned with a large blue quartzite shrub they had planted in a heavy tub. When Jazz’s originator saw the bassinet he smiled.

“Now that was a brilliant idea, Love.”

“Rocky bye bitty,” Sideswipe cooed.

“He is fuelling right now, but you can help me rock him a little later if you can be gentle,” Prowl offered. The mechling beamed. More surprising was the way Punch and Jazz beamed.

“This outta do ya for a few mega-cycles,” Punch said and he set the shrub down next to what had become Prowl’s corner of the couch. “Y’re lookin’ better, dearspark.”

“Jazz helped me,” Prowl explained. “I forget when I last felt this... good.”

“He has a knack, don’t he?” Punch replied and he smiled at his creation. “I promised the mechlings goodied energon. I’ll make us up five mugs.”

“Sounds great, Ori,” Jazz replied. “Ori makes the best goodied energon.”

“I have never had it,” Prowl said.

“Y’ve never had goodied energon,” Sideswipe gasped.

“Different cultures got different fuels,” Jazz explained with a little chuckle. “If ya don’t end up likin’ it Prowl, Sideswipe’ll be happy to steal it from ya. He’s lil fiend for it.”

“You really do not need to waste all this fuel on me,” Prowl said.

“Ain’t a waste,” Jazz replied.

The Twins were fascinated by Bluestreak, Sunstreaker even more so than Sideswipe though he spoke considerably less. He watched Bluestreak fuel from his chosen perch at Prowl’s side. Prowl did not mind it. Sunstreaker was an innocent mechling, and he found his curiosity really so dear. Jazz told his mechlings to sit all the way back when their grandori brought out their treat. The mugs were steaming and Prowl wondered how he would be able to drink his when Jazz came around and tucked pillows around his lap. Bluestreak wiggled as he was lain onto the pillow, still tucked into his Prowl’s chassis, still firming latched on his fuel line. Punch set a mug the steaming fuel into Prowl’s good servo. He took a sip. It was creamy and sweet, and Prowl smiled.

“It’s good, right?” Sideswipe said. “It is,” Prowl agreed.

Maybe Prowl did not want to trust Jazz, but he did. Maybe he did not want to forgive Jazz, but he did. With forgiveness, begrudging or otherwise, came a need to make right, or to give thanks with more than glyphs. Though Prowl still did not know where he intended to lay down his roots. The more he considered it, the less he wanted to return to the Grove, and not only because he believed they would reject his creation, but because of all the ways, they had rejected him, even as they had used him. What Prowl did know, was where he could begin, and that was enough for now.

“I had a thought,” he said, savouring the sweet fuel. “I have an acquaintance out of the Crystal City who deals in rare plants. Mirage has purchased my offshoots regularly for many vorns. If you take me to the Crystal City, I will make an agreement with him to produce as many offshoots as he requires in exchange for the ransom you need.”

“It’s a hefty ransom,” Jazz said. “I can’t imagine he’d wanna buy that many plants. I can’t imagine it’d be safe for ya to produce that many.”

“I produce a particularly rare variant of nobile quartz,” Prowl revealed. “So long as I can connect to a sturdy host, I will be able to produce what is required without undue strain. As far as I understand it, I am the only producer of this quartz. Mirage would have no issue selling my offshoots to his collector friends at a tidy profit.”

“If y’re sure ya won’t hurt yerself,” Jazz said.

“I am sure,” Prowl replied. The fact that Jazz was so concerned about his health and safety, especially considering his own brother was on the line, made it impossible for Prowl to hate him anymore. It was kind of annoying.

#anon-e-miss writes #maccadams #dryad!powl #thief!jazz #tf prowl #tf jazz #etc #ficlet

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 4 years

Text

Life of the Party

This is the fluffiest thing I’ve ever written and it still involves a swingers’ party. But seriously, other than the setting, this whole thing is just humor and boy-meets-girl cuteness.

Pairing: Adam Cole x reader

Word count: 2,117

Content advisory: nothing beyond the setting

“Could you please stop acting so uptight?” Jeanie asks, poking you hard in the ribs. “You said you wanted to try it.”

Yes, you have to admit, you did say that you wanted to try it. Jeanie had been sharing her stories with you and Ellen about going to the swinger parties hosted by a physiotherapist who regularly attended Jeanie’s yoga classes and her husband, and a month ago, she’d finally persuaded Ellen to come along to one. Ellen had been so impressed that she’d talked about it for a week nonstop and you finally had to concede that, yes, you were curious and that you did want to come along the next time there was an opportunity. And you had wanted to come along. You wanted to get into the spirit of liberation and exploration that these nights offered. But here you were, walking into a party with a very select guest list and all you could think of to do was make wisecracks.

Jeanie and Ellen were both insistent that you keep your mind open, to which you responded that you couldn’t keep your mind and legs open at the same time, which got a chortle but also a withering look from both of them. Your inclination was to separate from the crowd with them and to pass the night making catty comments. They, however, preferred to circulate and see who might be interested and what they might be interested in. Normally, sarcasm and irony were the weapons you used to prevent yourself from feeling vulnerable. But normally, your friends would be right beside you. Tonight, they weren’t so interested in smart remarks and were more interested in seeing what kind of adventure they could find. It was almost like disinterestedly scanning through Tinder and getting frustrated by playing eye contact games with guys in bars wasn’t enough for them anymore.

It took exactly 38 minutes for you to completely lose your sense of ironic invincibility. You know this because you’ve been able to time it on your phone. In those first minutes, you were joking with Jeanie and Ellen, then they chose to migrate into the crowd and started chatting with a few people. Then you’d just chilled on your own and thought it was funny how everyone else seemed to be trying to hook up with someone. Then it had occurred to you that everyone else was hooking up with someone, almost as if being open about what they wanted was something that wasn’t a source of humiliation for them the way it was for you. Then you’d realized that you were standing by yourself, protected by an impenetrable wall of sarcasm, completely isolated while everyone around you was getting laid.

You’d sure showed them. You alone had discovered the secret to not having sex at a party the point of which was to make sure that everyone had all the sex they wanted. Lucky for you that the guests were so distracted that it was easy to just steal alcohol from the refrigerator. It was like you were doing the hosts a favor, making sure that the supplies they laid in didn’t go to waste. There were little hors d’oeuvres on trays catered from a company whose treats didn’t come cheap, so you grabbed plate full of those too and retired to the back patio to feel awkward and superior and incredibly envious that there were people who could just approach other human beings and tell them they wanted to have sex with them and get it.

This goes fine for about fifteen minutes, or two full glasses of wine and about half the plate of exquisite mini pastries and vegetable art, at which point another solitary figure slinks out onto the patio with you. There is immediately a dirigible of silence between you, swollen with mutual desire, the desire to be left alone and to have no one notice you. On the other hand, it is also fueled by the awareness that the two of you are the party’s resident weirdos and that social convention demands that you try to forge some kind of connection so that you can eventually make eye contact and fall in love or something. It’s you who gives in first.

“Miniature sausage?”

The tumescent blimp of tension between you deflates as the man looks up with a combination of defensiveness and hostility.

You press the still half-eaten plate towards him. “They ordered these individual mini sausages with gourmet ingredients and everything. There’s like four different kinds and they all look like they’re made by hand. I mean, I can’t imagine they found a machine that could make them this size.”

He’s still giving you a bit of a suspicious look, scanning you for any sign that you’re mocking him but gradually he drags his chair a little closer to observe the food you’re proffering. He snatches up a tiny deconstructed spanakopita-type-thing that crumbles in an avalanche of phyllo crumbs over his dark shirt when he tries to take a bite.

“Those are a bit tricky,” you commiserate.

“So, you’re the… official taster?” he kids, obviously trying to project a bit of cool as he brushes himself more or less clean.

“Sure, we can go with that.” You once again extend the plate to let him try something else and, after allowing his hand to hover a moment, he takes one of the perfect little sausages.

“Ok,” he says, nodding, “you have a point. These are pretty awesome.”

You resist the urge to say ‘I told you so’ by pushing one of the salmon-lemongrass wraps into your mouth.

“You prefer fish?” he grins.

“I just like to eat.”

He laughs a little and, as ridiculously clichéd as it is, you bat your eyelashes because now that you’re able to get a better look at him, you feel your thighs inadvertently press together. He is really good looking. His light brown hair is drawn back into a loose chignon, and he has that perfected, give-a-shit scruff you’ve seen in musicians and you hope to god that he’s not one of those because they’re always such cocky assholes. But what really draws you in are the bright, sparkling, mischievous blue eyes. You can’t stop staring at them and into them, imaging what they’d look like sparked with lust and… you realize it’s been an inappropriately long time since either of you has said anything.

He takes your last oyster, the bastard, and tips the shell against his mouth, allowing the flesh to slide through his lips and over his tongue that flashes out for just a second to capture the drops of briny liquor. The change in his expression shows that he’s definitely caught you looking in a way that’s entirely appropriate to the party inside.

“So why aren’t you enjoying the main course?” you ask, trying not to be quite so obvious and hitching your head in the direction of the house.

“I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing here,” he sighs. “I was with my girlfriend, well, my ex-girlfriend now, for seven years. Two weeks ago I came home from a tour a day early and I run into her with her movers clearing all her stuff out of our condo. Braden’s my nutritionist and told me he and Sheryl were having this party and he thought it might be a good chance for me to shake off some of the… well, you know. Seven years with the same girl and now I’m single.”

Everything after “home from a tour” is a sort of verbal soup to you. A tour. He is a musician. Oh no.

“What about you?” he asks. “How did you end up on Fuck Island?”

“My friend Jeanie is Sheryl’s yoga instructor,” you squeak, wishing very much to leave it at that. He gives you a pointed stare and a smile that seems to light up the entire yard and so, feeling more than a little self-conscious, you continue, “My husband left me about a year ago and I haven’t been… well, I haven’t dated anyone since then and Jeanie figured that this might be a good opportunity to get back in the saddle.”

He gives you another big smile and you think, or at least hope, that there’s a bit of a flirtatious glint in his eye. “I didn’t know they had a saddle too.”

It’s a silly joke but it does make you laugh and that makes you feel a little less awkward that you basically told a complete stranger that you got your ass dumped and hadn’t had sex since. Still, you’re eager to move on.

“So you’re a musician?”

“What? Oh, because I was on tour. No, I’m a professional wrestler.”

And that, you think, might be worse than a musician, because it’s sort of like being a jock version of a rock star, right? All of the testosterone and none of the creativity?

“What do you do?” he asks, pleasantly enough.

“I’m the curator at the A.E. Backus Gallery.”

His dazzling eyes widen. “Wow…” he stammers, “Art.”

You giggle and pour yourself another glass of wine. “Wow… Wrestling.”

He leans in and takes the bottle from you, gulping directly from it as he leans back into his chair. “I’m not really arty.”

“Not at all?”

“Does videogame art count?”

“It can,” you answer, pushing a note of gentle humor into your voice.

“Well then I guess I’m a bit of a collector. Maybe you can sell me something.” He hitches his eyebrows a little and it is endearing.

“I didn’t know wrestling paid so well.”

“It does when you’re as good at it as I am,” he grins, taking another long swig from the wine bottle.

His arm is slowly moving towards you and you’ve leaned forward so that you’re at once helping to close the distance between you and giving him a nice view of the tops of your breasts, something which does not appear to go unappreciated. Feeling a little cheeky, you take a big drink from your wine glass and allow a drop to fall from your lips. As you were hoping, he reaches over and brushes it away with his thumb. His eyes are definitely more intense, more curious and threaded with a hint of lust and they are every bit as thrilling as you thought they would be.

“I’m Adam,” he whispers.

“Eva,” you tell him, and you both laugh a little at that.

“So I guess we really should be naked.”

“Or if we felt self-conscious, I think that one of the hors d’oeuvres has some minced grape or fig leaves.”

“Are you suggesting that I would be able to cover myself with just a tiny sausage?”

You laugh again and blush because his hand is still resting against your face, stroking your cheek ever so softly.

His eyes flicker towards the house and he struggles for a minute to form words, his jaw twitching a little with the effort. And as much as you feel yourself growing damp at the idea of being with him, the idea of doing so in a sauna of sex mist is not working for you.

“I cannot tell you,” he begins finally, waving a hand towards the indoors, “how uncomfortable I am with this whole thing.”

“Oh,” you exhale in sweet relief, “you don’t need to tell me because I just… This is not my scene. No judgment but this just isn’t going to work as a way of getting back out there.”

He gives you a wink. “Eva, would you like to go somewhere and not have sex with me for a bit?”

You look down at what you’re wearing, dismayed. “I’m basically wearing lingerie.”

“You look beautiful.”

“I feel naked.”

“It’s ok,” he assures you. “I know an amazing place to get drive through. You know. If that’s something art gallery girls can get into.”

“I can get into that.”

He stands and offers you his arm, the muscle flexing a little as he helps you up and sending an electric shiver through your core. Toned and firm but not the bulked-up, steroid-ridden balloon you would have imagined all pro wrestlers to possess. You bite your lip and he definitely notices, edging just a little closer to you,

“I really hope no one’s fucking in my car,” he says wistfully.

“I’m so glad I came here in a cab.”

The two of you share a conspiratorial glance as you pick your way down the driveway and onto the street towards his hopefully unoccupied car. No sex for a bit, you tell yourself, but maybe not too long of a bit.

#nxt imagine #wwe imagine #nxt fanfiction #adam cole fanfiction #adam cole imagine #adam cole x reader #wayward wrestle writing #wrestling imagine #wrestling fanfic

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sleepdeprivedheretic · 3 years

Text

Kill Me Hardly (Last Ch.)

Notes: Last chapter!!! This chapter is straight up Fluff, with nsfw, bc I’m a simple being :’) Those who just want a sad ending, can pretend that this chapter doesn’t exist, lol.

Warnings: mild Smut (or, milder than what I’m use to writing)

@youtubequeens: I tried my best, haha

Light. Warmth. Softness. Beeping. Everything dawned slowly onto you at once as you stared at the wall with half-lidded eyes, regaining your focus as your fingertips felt something soft. Feeling something. You jolted awake, sitting upwards. Your legs felt heavy, everything felt warm and safe, the ghosts were gone, and you wondered if this was how newborns felt, for everything seemed to be new and yet familiar.

Like a new dawn, you felt your own heart beating as the monitor beeped in with excitement. You also felt weak and tired, your frame was sick and paler than the healthy flush that it had use to be, and a soft snoring jolted you out of your thoughts as you looked at your hands.

“T-” You tried, yet your vocal chords were unused for a year, but you still felt a strong sense of relief and peace, and your heart thrummed with searing warmth as the man who you had beginning to develop feelings for, had his head and arms nestled comfortably within your lap, your fingers threading through his hair gently.

“…” You tried clearing your throat as you looked around your surroundings. Cards, flowers, stuffed animals littered the table next to you, no doubt from your friend and family, you and Taishiro were alone within the room, and yet, you also desperately missed your parents.

A thought struck you, how did he get in here? Where were your parents? Did they leave before he came here? It was such a miracle that you were alive, and yet, you were so confused.

“Ta-Tai-chan.” You croaked out lowly, looking down. He only stirred slightly. You huffed out a small noise of adoration. Alive. You were alive and feeling, and he came all this way….

“T..” You shook him gently. He stirred. He groaned when you pinched his cheeks, squeezing them softly as finally, his eyelids slid open, and then widened as he stared at you, taking you in. You didn’t have a chance to really think, before he lifted himself up in such a haste, and then lunged.

Surprise. You were surprised that he had leaned you down in which he was now hovering over you, staring at you thoroughly as one hand held himself above you, and the other clasped onto yours, rubbing a calloused thumb over your palm rather gently.

“Tai..” You tried, reaching up to caress his cheek. He leaned down, resting onto his elbows now as he surprised you with a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Shush. Ya damned woman. Makin’ me worry an’ shit.” He said softly, his own voice cracking a little. You smiled a little, he was trying so hard not to let the tears flow, and yet you were rubbing away the wetness with the gentle sweeping of your thumb.

The next thing you knew, he was holding your face gently as he began kissing you. Your eyelids, cheek, jaw, and finally, mouth with a fervent hunger, and you couldn’t help but whine with surprise want, gripping your hands tightly in his hair, him groaning as his face slid down to the crook of your neck. You jumped, but he kissed the scarred up wound so softly, threading his hand through your own hair, feeling that you were very real.

“Fuckin’ hell, ya scared me last night.” He said, voice muffling in your neck, sending tingles down your spine.

The both of you jumped as loud knocks echoed on the door. Taishiro reluctantly pulled away with a scowl on his face, placing himself back on the seat where he had been presumably all night as the familiar doctor walked in with a glass of water, and a closed packet with some rubbing alcohol.

“Why, hello! You must be very confused and exhausted, am I correct? I’m Doctor Fujiharu Akashi, I’ve been in charge of taking care of you. Please relax, I need to take your vitals, and explain to you what’s been happening.” The gray haired doctor said with a bright smile. Taishiro stood up so that the doctor could talk to you as he set the cup of water next to the desk, you took it and sipped on it slowly as he continued talking.

“Your body will need time, but there’s a high chance for it to recover wonderfully. You’ll need to eat soft foods, and drink things that have electrolytes in them, such as chicken broth or Gatorade. My nurse assistant should be printing you out a list of foods in which you can or can’t have.” The doctor babbled, you listening as you winced at the needle.

“-as you understand, you are a very, very lucky person. Your heartbeat had picked up at an abnormal rate last night, and we concluded that you were close to waking up. After...um...a year.” He stalled, looking guilty as he adjusted his glasses. You didn’t blame him, for he didn’t know that you were a ghost.

“Year?” You played along, tilting your head.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Miss (Y/n). I know it’s not easy to take in, but you’re safe now. Your parents had left you in the care of your friend. They needed to go..um...well, I’ll let him explain it to you later, alright? Your voice and organs should be up and running fine in a few days. Until then, we’ll have to keep an eye on you to see how you’re coping well, alright?” Dr. Akashi finished, taking the tube with him as he bowed, leaving you and Tai alone.

You turned towards him, raising an eyebrow.

“They were confused as hell, but long story short, I told ‘em that I was a pen-pal overseas, and told them of what I knew ‘bout ya. They seemed wary, but friendly enough. Of course they couldn’t stay, long. Yer brother had court, today. They’ll be here, later.” He explained, rubbing his hand softly over yours. You squeezed gently, making a humming sound in your throat.

You wanted to say something, to bring up the elephant in the room, but you were oddly, very happy and surprised, and didn’t want to break the spell. As if sensing your confusion or unrest, Taishiro sighed.

“Ya know, I thought a lot last night. Watchin’ ya sleep- don’t give me that look!” He huffed as you squinted at him with a judging stare.

“Oh, whatever. Anyways, I thought about ya. Me. Us. What ya might do after ya heal...and...it’ll be weird livin’ without ya, is what I’m sayin’! If...if ya wanna..kami, this is hard.” He bit his lip, a pretty red flushed to his cheeks and neck, and he sighed, looking at your own reddening cheeks.

“Look, I like ya. More than I’d thought I’d like anybody. You’re a little worm, crawlin’ into people’s heart-ow! Okay, that’s fair.” He rubbed his shoulder, squinting at you as you glared. He took in a breath as he then stared at you with a stern seriousness, his hand clasped onto yours as the other smoothed over your cheek.

“You’ve gotten close to me. Ya’ve caught me. I..I don’t wanna be the kind of man that you or yer parents should hafta fear, or look down on. It took such a fuckin’ scare from ya for me to get my ass in gear. I’ve made up my mind, thinkin’ last night,” He gave you such a soft look, and briefly you wondered if this was the same person months ago, yet you held his endearing gaze as he continued to finish his speech.

“-that I wanna protect ya. N’ everybody who’s been through that shit. Ya, yer parents, hell, even Dabi’s girls, knowin’ that their job ain’t easy, an’ they got mouths to feed. I hafta go home, let ya be with yer parents and friends, but I’ll be here everyday, if ya want. I’m gonna get rid of all that villain shit, buy some more vanilla candles, an’ look fer jobs.” He finished, and you stared at him with such surprise and shock, you felt tears welling in your eyes.

“O-oi! Don’t start cryin’ on me! Ya sap!” He squinted, eternally screaming on what to do, and you smiled.

“Beautiful.” You mumbled out, but he heard you, his blush darkening at your own wonderstruck stare. His expression softened a bit through furrowed eyebrows as his eyes met yours. As if to say “hell with it”, he leaned in, silently asking for a kiss, and of course you breached the distance between the two of you, catching him off guard as you grabbed the front of his hoodie, bringing him down to meet your lips. You grinned, catching him off guard as he made a muffled groan.

He pulled away, huffing out a laugh.

“Damned woman. My damned woman. Ya know, I’m gonna get ya later fer all the shit you’ve pulled. Just you wait.” He promised darkly, and you shivered with an odd mix of excitement and anticipation.

“For now, though, I gotta go. Rest up, Babe. You’re gonna need it.” He gave you one last kiss, before reluctantly heading out of the door.

….………

To say that you were relieved, was an understatement. Your parents were so damned happy to see you, your mother and father enveloping you in a tight hug, but not too tight. Your body was a little frail, not as strong as it use to be, so you had to stay in the hospital until you could be discharged.

Of course, you were far from being lonely. Both of your parents and Taishiro would meet up with you regularly, them telling embarrassing stories about you, and you, gaining back your voice, would hush them in embarrassment or change the subject, quickly as your partner, yes, partner, laughed.

However, when your parents were too busy, Taishiro would be more than happy to spend his time with you, telling you how he was getting noticed quickly by the police, but in a good way. He grinned, showing off his badge, and your eyes glittered with excitement.

“That’s great! Who did you steal it, from?” Slipped out, and he rolled his eyes, pinching your cheeks a little roughly as you complained.

“Figured that I’d try my hand at somethin’ that I do know about. Fightin, criminals, fightin’ criminals, ya know. Hafta do trainin’ classes, but so far they’re impressed. Heh, they should be. Fatgum was a notorious villain, after all who was good at shovin’ down police officers.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Braggart.”

“Heh. Says the college lady who’s takin’ online classes.” He pointed out. It was true. After word got out of your recovery, your old college had promised to continue your education, since it was already paid for, and you were close to graduating, anyway. Of course you took online classes, and joined the classroom through a camera, but you healed and studied, while Taishiro stayed busy, he did offer a solution to your loneliness if he or nobody else could visit you.

Cue a gaggle of giggling women, fawning over you as they babbled among themselves, fixing their makeup and painting your nails. At first, you were flabbergasted, but a grinning Dabi dropped in and told you that Taishiro said that you were the one helping him bring food and stuff for the girls. Although the scarred man didn’t know how, he trusted Tai, and thought that it’d be nice for the adult women to keep their savior a bit of company.

Not having much lady friends, you agreed reluctantly, but quickly took a shine to the bright-eyed ladies and their adorable children as they told stories that surprised and shocked you, and of course made you blush furiously, for they were still sex workers, and you were not use to such stories.

“Always use lube~! Even aroused, it’s normal for some people to just not get wet. So don’t hurt yourself, Babe!” One chirped.

“Oooh! Glass dildos are easy to clean, and are soooo much smoother than plastic or silicone. Any lube can go on them, and won’t wear the toy down.”

“I got one! Always pee after sex. You can and will get a urinary tract infection if you’re not careful.”

Yeah, you’ve learned a lot other than your college classes.

When Taishiro wasn’t busy, he’d bring you his favorite snack, Takoyaki, as the two of you talked about everything and nothing. You liked these days, where it was just you and him, how he’d say that you smelled like vanilla, that’s why he has so many of those candles, and you telling him that you’re learning too much things from the girls. He’d wink at you, saying that if you wanted to, you could teach him, and then laughing at your frustrated yet flushed face.

Two months had passed so soon. It was nearing Christmas, and you’ve gained back your own weight, skin looking healthy and you were about to be discharged. Of course you wanted to move in with Taishiro, and with your parent’s knowledge, he moved your things to his apartment. Or, so you thought.

“Wait...so...my things aren’t at your apartment?” You quirked an eyebrow. He grinned.

“Neither are mine.”

“What the fu-”

“Language, young missy.” He tutted, mocking a teacher as he wagged a finger. You laughed.

“No, but Tai, where are our things?” You pressed, and he grinned. You glared.

“I moved them.”

“Wheeeeeere?” You drawled out in a whine, and he switched out his grin for a smug smile.

“To our new home.”

“Wait, what?”

“Ya heard me! Figured that I’ve been savin’ a lot of money from my old “job”, that you an’ I could, I dunno, moveintoahouseorsomethin’.” He said it so fast, but it caught your attention.

“Taishiro...you? Got us a house?” You asked softly. He looked away sheepishly for a moment.

“Well, yeah. Should’ve asked ya, first, but, it was in the middle of the city, an’ a heh, “steal”, an’ it’s near plenty of job opportunities for yer career. If ya don’t like it, I’ll-”

You shushed him in a kiss, pulling away for a moment before beaming from ear to ear.

“You sap. It sounds perfect.”

“Shut up, I know.” He grinned, kissing you in turn.

“No, but seriously, please inform me of important decisions from now on. I don’t need more anymore surprises.”

“Will do, Sweetheart.” He hummed, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“So. Does this place have a stripper pole?”

“Tch, Cheeky woman, who do ya think I am? I was goin’ to ask your permission to install one in our bedroom.” He joked, and yet you oddly didn’t mind the idea.

“Only if your service is free.” You giggled, and he laughed.

“For you? Only.”

………….

After being discharged, you had finally gotten to get some more fresh air, getting out of the hospital bed as you looked around your surroundings, glad to be free of the grisly spirits, even on the streets. Of course, Taishiro had taken you to your new home, the both of you standing outside and he grinned proudly.

Although he mentioned house, he didn’t mention almost a mansion. You gave him a look.

“What?”

“Taishiro, as I am beyond grateful, isn’t this a bit, much?” You asked, solemnly. He frowned, and already you felt bad.

“Ya...don’t like it?”

“Kami, I love it, it’s beyond perfect! It just caught me off guard, a little, and I wondered if it’ll be lonely? You know, such a big house, and so many rooms…” You glanced at him, and he found himself smiling.

“Ya know? I think there’s a way that we could use up the rooms.” He drawled, and already you found that you were blushing furiously.

“Not that, you pervert! Well, maybe that, but only in like, two rooms! Anyways. Even if I’m in the police force, now, I’m still on good terms with Dabi an’ his boss. The lady’s and their kids...really need a break from livin’ in the slums….” He drawled out. You quirked an eyebrow.

“Our home isn’t going to be ran like a brothel.”

“I know that! I was sayin’…maybe we can set up a daycare? For their kids? So that they can grow up more safely. So they don’t hafta resort to gang violence, ya know? It’s not a permanent home, but it’ll be a place for each parent an’ kid to be in their own rooms.”

“As much as I like that idea, Taishiro, we need a solid plan to make this work. Okay, so each room-” You began babbling as he listened, giving you his own ideas, which you also liked. The two of your continued your conversation after taking a look inside of the house, pointing out which rooms were the two of yours, and which rooms could be spared. It was a lot to think about, but you genuinely wanted a more safer place for your lady friends whom you’ve grown fond of, and of course, for their children.

Calling Dabi, said man gave his own insight on the idea, and said that that would work, perfectly, as he could make sure that his girls and their kids were safe and more sound, knowing that they’d be in a safer neighborhood.

All in all, the plan boiled down to, was that each parent and child had their own daycare bedroom for a limited amount of time per day. Although they couldn’t permanently live in there, because of food, rent, and you really not wanting to have a bunch of women living with you, constantly, the children could be in a safe place while their parents worked, Dabi’s other girls who didn’t have kids, looked after them, giving you and Tai plenty of space and time for each other. Although, you didn’t mind being a babysitter, as long as you weren’t overworked.

Even though you had gotten close to the ladies, cameras were set up so nobody could bring unwanted guests. To the both of you, it sounded like a good plan.

It didn’t happen overnight, of course, as you had finally had gotten hired at a really well paying job, the two of you stayed busy, yet made time for each other as you possibly could, while in both of your spare times, made funds here and there to remodel each room. Although working, you didn’t stress yourself, for you were still healing, a little, but you tried to help Tai in anyway you can as you decorated the rooms, laughing as you smeared orange paint onto his face, leaving him to growl playfully, kissing you senseless as he quickly returned the favor, grinning with pride as you had a poorly drawn red heart on your arm. You smiled.

When all rooms were finished, Dabi was called, and thus a small group of women and their children came to look at the place.

Cue a bunch of teary eyed women, hugging you as they sobbed out how grateful they were, and how their babies were now much safer away from the crappy parts of the city, even for a little bit. Taishiro smiled a bit fondly as you held onto one of their kids, leaning in and whispering in your ear.

“Hey, I want one.” He grinned darkly, and you shrugged.

“Sure.”

“What?” His brain seemed to stop, still, and you chuckled at his frozen expression.

“We both have stable jobs, and a good home. Plus some very awesome babysitters. Tit for tat.” You winked, and he grinned.

“We still haven’t-”

“Oh, and did I mention? Rubber toys can absorb bacteria-”

“Yuna! There’s children, here!”

……………..

It was nearing spring, you were getting more acquainted with seeing happy, hyper children, and learning more from the ladies, whether it be parental or other advice. You didn’t mind them, liking the way they’ve kept you company on your days off, helping you clean and cook as Taishiro was at work. If you were at work, he’d rather be out and about with his work buddies, saying that he felt uncomfortable being around a group of ladies when his own woman was away. It touched you, really.

Of course your parents started visiting, more often when they could, learning that you were taking care of others, they were very proud of you and although wary that so many women lived in your home, you reassured them that you trusted your partner. They’ve brought news about your brother, saying that he was going through rehab and therapy. Although he didn’t want to bother you, nor pressure you into forgiving him, he passed the word to your parents, that he was thinking of you, and wished that he could have been a better sibling. All you could do is wish the best for him, and wait and see for yourself.

With Tai’s and your jobs, the two of you made a very good team, splitting the bills and chores equally, as the two of you had taken time out of your rather busy schedules to go on dates, help with charities, taking care of your friends and their children, and support each other. He was still a grumpy Tsundere, but you were his cheeky smartass, so it all evened out.

…………(nsfw)

You were fully healed when the two of your’s first anniversary came around. Physically, as well as mentally, you were ready. Although dating for a year, the two of you were so busy with work, looking after the girls, going to local charities, and learning to love and cope within society, the complete act of sex wasn’t a thing between the two of you. Sure, after heavy kissing sessions, you’d cum around his fingers and tongue, and vice versa, but neither of you had the time to take to really slow the world down and appreciate each other, and that’s what you’ve wanted, and he couldn’t have agreed more.

So the two of you planned to use your vacation days to use on Halloween, or the two of your’s anniversary. Nobody was in your home, the vanilla candles lit up, making the bedroom have enough flickering light that the two of you could still see each other.

He kissed your scar rather more gently than the rest of you. You whined as feather-like kisses adored you, while in contrast, his hips had moved against yours, lifting your leg on top of his shoulder, he buried himself more deeply inside you as you made a keen whine, threading your fingers within his hair tightly. With his free hand, he had cupped your cheek, making it easier for him to kiss your face as your body moved under the shaking bed due to his sharp thrusting.

“I-it’s…warm.” You murmured, feeling the intense heat making you sweat, sharply contrasting the cold, dead feeling as a spirit. He must’ve known what you were talking about, as he then kissed you tenderly.

“I know, Baby. Mu-must’ve been rough, huh? H-heh.” He chuckled quietly at his own dirty joke, and you let out a breathy huff of laughter mixed in with a moan. He worked himself into you, feeling your walls grip him as he churned them, hitting your sensitive spot as your legs trembled as they tightened around his waist and shoulder blade, toes curling as you felt yourself scrambling for that high.

“Th-that’s it. Feel ya...squ-eezin’ onto me. Let yourself go, Baby.” He urged, slowing down, only to aim sharp, powerful thrusts into you as you felt tears of frustration pool. Having none of that, he kissed your eyes, forehead, and mouth as you trembled all over, squeezing him as if he was a lifeline as you bit out his name, finally cumming onto his cock as your orgasm ripped through you.

Seeing such a sight, and on the verge of his own release, he quickened his hips, paying no mind to the squeaking of the bed-frame as the headboard slammed into the wall, you whined out as your sensitivity heightened, saying his name in a mantra of sentences as he fucked you into the mattress, precum, lube, and your cum soiling the bedspread underneath.

In what had seemed to be a looping moment, he gripped your hips towards him in a final, harsh thrust as he then stilled, cussing and letting out your own name as he shot his release inside of you. The both of you panted, as he rested his forehead against yours, hips shallowly moving on their own as he pushed his cum deeper into you as you hummed gently with approval.

“You alright, Honey?” He asked, and you nodded tiredly as he gently pulled out, you whining at the loss as your opening clenched onto nothing, pearlescent fluid dripping out of you.

“Mmm. Better take those lady’s advice an’ use the bathroom. I’ll clean up and meet ya in the shower for round two.” He purred, and you flushed, yet grinning wildly.

…………..End.

:’) I just went straight ahead for domestic fluff and Tai and reader taking care of everybody while living their best lives, especially after all of that angst. This was a field fic, I’ll tell you what.

#fatgum x reader #Fatgum #Taishiro Toyomitsu #You thought you've seen the last #Field fic of a trip #I don't know what or where I was writing #To be happy Ig #I've had a day #And just began writing #Some of it doesn't make any sense but shhh #Au #They low-key adopt everyone

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pellicano-sanguino · 3 years

Text

A while ago I wrote that I was reading through an anthology of lesbian vampire stories to find a good one to read to White Rabbit, and that I was disappointment in the lack of lesbians and the amount of het sex and rape forced into the stories. I was especially disappointed because the authors of the anthology were women and they should know better.

Well, I have now finished the anthology and the rest of the stories.... kept disappointing in one way or the other.

One story told of a woman who gets lost in the Amazon rainforest and is hunted and seduced by a vampire that lives there. The concept is good, a fascinating and a rather unusual setting for a vampire story. But the writing is very confusing and kinda pretentious and the sort of realism that thinks in order to captivate the true reality one must focus on all the disgusting things and describe them in great detail. Like, I feel every other sentence is TMI fest of going into the condition of the blisters in the main character’s feet or of all the bugs scampering over her when she stumbles and falls. And when we finally do get into the vampire bit, it’s just vaguely described and kinda weird and surreal and... I don’t know, like from a completely different story. I suppose the change in writing style is supposed to symbolize the main character being under the vampire’s hypnosis or something?

The odd writing style makes this a very tedious read for someone whose native language isn’t English, because most of the I sure am reading words but fuck if they make any sense. For example, the author talks about a person as if she’s there and it took me a long time to realize this person is NOT there, but is... a ghost? A memory? A flashback into past or future? The main character’s imaginary friend/named sense of purity or some other symbolic shit? The author clearly intended this to be a story that you need to read several times to understand what happens and piece together the cryptic text. Hahaha nope. I am done with this pretentious fuckery.

Next story is... sigh... taking place in a gay club that is also into heavy BDSM. Because of fucking course that is how the hets see lesbians, to them homosexuality is a just a kink. Not only do we get descriptions of very brutal, bloody non-con sadism, we also have to read about men doing it (with women, of course. What, were you expecting gay men in this gay club? Or lesbians in your lesbian vampire anthology?). I know not all lesbians are actively grossed out by dicks but rather just completely disinterested in them, but still... why would you write a story about a lesbian vampire and force the reader to read three - three! - detailed descriptions of a mens’ erections.

Boy, are the writers of this anthology pissed that they did not write their lesbian masterpieces in our modern times when identity havers are vigorously attempting to redefine lesbianism as “non-men being attracted to non-men.” Today, the authors could write all the dick sucking, male orgasm centered het sex they want and still call it lesbian sex as long as the penis-bearer doesn’t identify as a man. They no longer need to try to sneak in the het sex and then write some half-assed plot about them disgusting gay women.

Though, to be fair, I don’t think it’s just the het sex these writers want to force in their lesbian stories. They specificly want to write about rape, questionable consent and painful sex. And I have a theory on why.

When analyzing why some people are hell bent on putting certain elements in their vampire story, one needs to figure out why they were originally drawn into writing a vampire story in the first place. What is it about the vampire as a creature that fascinates them? What sets the vampire apart from other supernatural creatures is their parasitic nature. You take away the blood drinking and you could replace the vampire character with something else and not have it affect the plot in any way. However, surprisingly many people who write vampire stories aren’t that interested in the blood drinking (much to my disappointment) and more into the power imbalance this diet creates between vampires and humans.

Relationships between a vampire and a human have a massive power imbalance, even when the vampire isn’t the kind that has super human strength and other special powers. If a vampire does not drink blood, they will perish. This simple fact forces them to be at best harmless parasites, at worst dangerous predators. Even with civilized vampires who get their blood from butchers, blood banks or who use synthetic blood substitutes, the special diet of a vampire cannot be ignored when they interact with humans. Imagine a civilized vampire like this stranded on an island with some humans - no one can blame them for stealing blood from the humans for survival in such a scenario. No matter how kind, how sworn to be friendly to humankind, the very nature of vampirism makes it so that humans and vampires can’t coexist together as if there is not a power imbalance in place.

Some writers are very into this power imbalance. The act of drinking someone’s blood, even from a willing donor, is an act of parasitism. The human is harmed, their skin is pierced, their blood is drawn and their body will suffer consequences for it, even if for some donors those are mild. The only one walking away from the act having benefited from it is the vampire. You can romanticize the act, you can give the vampire powers to make their bite painless, you can make the human the one who asks for it, but the act remains the same. A human is wounded and will suffer from minor blood loss, the vampire takes from them and gives nothing in return.

I admit, the blood drinking is what draws me to vampire stories. I am fascinated by the concept of a creature that is by its nature forced to become parasitic. But unlike creatures that eat actual human flesh, the vampire has the option to choose between becoming a predator or becoming a parasite. The ability to be civilized, or pretend to be civilized, with humankind creates interesting emotional bonds between a vampire and their victim/host/donor.

However, I am not interested in making blood drinking a metaphor for sex. It just does not work.

A vampire’s very survival is depending on them securing a bloody meal regularly. No one’s survival is depending on them getting laid regularly, no matter what rape culture advocating men crying about sex being a basic need and a human right want you to believe. No one has ever dropped dead because they didn’t have sex. And that’s why the blood drinking as metaphor for sex is flawed.

So, because the nature of vampirism demands that there must be blood drinking, that there must be harming of another living creature and stealing away a part of their body (blood is a liquid organ, consisting of living cells, drinking blood is an act of consuming living tissue), naturally people who are turned on by the idea of harming others or of being harmed and who are into non-con, would find the vampire as a concept fascinating. To them, a vampire attacking a human is equally arousing as fantasizing about rape, the idea of being bitten so deep that your blood is spilled as exciting as their other sadomasochistic kinks.

Bottom line: I get why people want to put so much sexual violence in their vampire stories. I hate it and wish they didn’t, but at least I see what motivates them to do so.

Ahem. Back to the anthology.

The only good thing about the gross BDSM story is that there is an actual lesbian sex scene in it and that it makes blood into a plot point. Too many vampire stories just ignore the blood drinking and do it off screen, or have it be completely meaningless to the characters and story. Admittedly, the way blood is used in this story isn’t anything new or super interesting but at least they remembered to put some actual real blood drinking lesbian vampires in their lesbian vampire story. * sarcastically side-eyes the other stories*

After this we get what I consider the strongest story in the anthology. It’s still not particularly good, but the bar is set low, so yeah. This is a rather long short story, a scifi one, about a vampire and a single human sharing a space ship for a long journey, during which they start having casual sex and the human eventually learns about the vampire’s real nature. The characters aren’t that interesting, but the concept of a vampire in space is a fascinating one. I was disappointed that the writer didn’t make the endless darkness of space a place for the vampire to be free from the fear of the sun and instead still makes her react badly to some kind of day to night cycle (it’s space! There is no sun in immediate vicinity! Why would you react badly to “oh well, back in Earth it’s sun time by now”?). Another fascinating part is that this vampire doesn’t steal blood from the human in the traditional method, but instead, um... performs certain sex act to her when she’s on her period. And this is the reason why she always insists on a female crew member.

Unfortunately not even this story is free from rape. The vampire tells her backstory, about how the man who turned her also raped her. Fortunately she does not describe it in detail but.... why must there be a rape in every single lesbian vampire story? Also, the sex scenes were a bit underwhelming, the vampire being very strictly stone butching the whole thing and not letting the human touch or pleasure her in any manner. Sigh. I know there are lesbians like this, but I can’t help but be reminded of the hets asking “so which one of you is the man?” Also, I wish I could read more lesbian romance, more flirting, more seducing and less of this no-emotional-bonds meaningless-fucking casual sex.

The last story is another pretentious one, this one even worse that the Amazon rainforest story. I... think it’s about a vampire... chatting with her parrot that has human-like intellect? I have no fucking idea what is going on. The writing is filled with snooty people talk and fancy words that no one uses in real life and it pisses me off.

“The parrot stuck its head on one side, began its swaying little dance shuffle, and gave a convincing rendition of “Viens poupoule.” It had nothing against lesbians and had been an admirer of Natalie Barney’s ever since a migrating cuckoo told it of the time Natalie, dressed only in a white nightgown, had herself delivered on Renée in a coffin full of enormous lilies. In its decadent period, when it has insisted on dyeing its feathers black and wearing World War Two dog tags round its neck, the parrot had even fancied itself Natalie’s ornithological opposite number, but John’s new slide rule, whom it was courting at the time, refused to attempt a Renée Vivien impersonation. That sour, unimaginative instrument had declared it had nothing whatever in common with the young, blond-haired poet, that anyone who could discern any points of comparison between any mathematical instrument and a blond-haired poet was certainly a surrealist, if not worse. The parrot had got a lot of satisfaction the day John came home from the university and declared, “With the mass production of the pocket calculator, the slide rule is dead.”

I’m gonna make a guess and say that the chances of an audience that enjoys this kind of pretentious fuckness aren’t going to be the target audience to look for their fancy-ass prose in a lesbian vampire story anthology. Just a guess.

I did find this bit funny, though:

“- - - Renée died in 1909, Natalie in 1972, but you have recently received messages from each. How is this possible?”

“Post took a long time,” suggested the parrot, ignored as usual.

You know, I could get behind the idea of a story where a lesbian vampire confides her adventures to a smartass parrot with a human intelligence. You know, if it was an actual story with actual plot and not this fake deep stream of consciousness word diarrhea “ask me what it means, ask me what it all means” garbage.

Well, if nothing else, reading the anthology through reminded me why I had forgotten most of these stories.

#vampire #lesbian

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arts-butthound · 3 years

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Sense and Salarian Ability Chp. 1

If you prefer, read my work over on AO3. Leave me a kudos if you like my work! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22537765/chapters/53856136

That small gaunt face was like a haunting from the lonesome dead. It echoed on his display window often enough, translucent. It would bounce from window to mirror to mirror- the image getting all the more faint and cursed the further it bounced into the establishment. Dirty clothes, filthy fingernails, with limp black hair that only made that colorless human skin all the more pale. Lau had chased her off before- throwing small cleaning rags at the child or yelling at her from an open door, but the duct rat continued to return and permeate the foul taste of guilt and privilege to both his clientele and contributors. The creature hurt business. His was a place of class and cultural significance. She only smudged it’s elegance with her left over breath.

It was the child’s eyes that struck the divining rod in Lau’s soul with an unforgivable chill. Large, crystalline, and so void of any thought, that there had been moments in her brief presence that made the salarian dealer wonder if those orb’s haunted his soul’s memory from another life, the wheel finally taking it’s vengeance for a misdeed done to a sister or dalatrass. Had she been someone before that he had known? On those nights where Lau actually needed sleep-those eyes resonated in his dreams like the girls face did in the window.

And here she was again, with her dead eyes trained on the sculptures within the exhibition hall. Only this time she was joined by other street mongrels, all inching towards the entrance door. At least her friends’ eyes had comprehensible intention. Human eyes were so unsettling, so alien and unreadable. His skin crawled as he tried not to be drawn into looking at her.

“Hey, mister!” the turian boy called from the door, standing in front of his two friends with the same arrogance as a Primarch. Lau sighed bitterly. He tried to ignore the boy. But like all turians, he persisted through adversity. “Do you have any work we can do? We’re hard workers, sir!”

“No. I don’t.” Anything to get the urchins to leave him alone. Anything to make her eyes go away. “Now beat it.” One had to be quick and to the point with duct rats. Without parents or without supervision, they clung to one territorial spot in a ward to cause trouble or beg from others. The girls behind the lad shuffled their feet and exchanged glances. It struck Lau as odd that the asari girl, probably an even thirty to the other children’s ten, stood behind the turian child instead of in front.

Eramanthe took his shoulder in hand and smiled. She was a regular contributor here, her work often selling faster than she could make it. And she had a bleeding heart. “Ropon Lau,” her voice was like heavy wooden wind chimes on a breezy day-that firm and elegant sound, “I’m sure that there’s plenty of work in the back studio for these fine young entrepreneurs to do. It’s plenty dirty back there.” The asari matron winked at the children in the doorway, summoning them closer with an ethereal lavender hand. The children ran to her before Lau could stop them. He glared at her over the tops of their varied heads, shaking his furiously.

“Era, no. I refuse to let them back there. There’s too much they could break!”

“It smells like clay dust and there are metal shavings all over the floor, Lau.” Her eyes glittered mischievously. Lau crossed his arms across the hollow of his chest, determined to stay firm on this. If Sapient Resources caught wind of what she was asking of him, they would crucify him to a wall and feed his entrails to a krogan. He suppressed a shudder just thinking about it. “Lau.” Eramanthe pushed, cocking a brow.

The woman was nigh impossible to say no to and she knew it. Her work had won the gallery notoriety and it continued to keep the lights on. The five went to the back room. Eramanthe smiled gratefully towards her friend. “I hate you.” Lau uttered.

Lau had, shortly after opening the art gallery, created this room for artists to convene and work in. Those who could rent the place out for a day or those with exceptional talent but had no place to work would come here with a hunger to create. When the lights went on, monoliths of stone and of steel welcomed the three children with hands raised skyward. Contorted figures danced, half formed and grotesque. “…Freaky…” the asari girl whispered, shrugging up one of her overall straps. In another part of the workshop, behind a wall and away from the dust, paintings in varying stages of completion sat on easels, colors reaching beyond the spectrum some species could even see. Beyond Lau’s attention, Eramanthe looked to the children, asking if they thought they could manage the work.

The turian boy rolled up his sleeves, grabbing a dust covered broom and nodded encouragingly towards his friends. “Count on us!” He quickly gave directions to his partners and got to work. Of course, SHE managed to get the job of cleaning the windows and mirrors. Those empty eyes-

“Was that so bad, hard ass?” Eramanthe took a seat on the table top that Lau was currently leaning back on, the dust clinging carelessly to her skirt and palms. Lau sighed irritably, crossing his arms and leaning further into the table, causing Eramanthe to lose balance briefly as it scrapped backwards across the floor. “They’re already doing such a good job.” Eramanthe scowled at him, burning through Lau’s skull for a brief, suspicious moment.

“I don’t like kids.” He said honestly, watching the duct rats with the precision and the subtle intensity of a jungle beast on Sur’Kesh. Lau didn’t even associate with his dozen’s of nephews and nieces regularly. Too loud, too needy, too many, and too much. When around them, during family get-togethers, he stuck to the adults as much as he possibly could. Only taking part in their antics when they showed potential in the family business…and that was more out of necessity than anything. “I like duct rats even less. What if they steal something? Or ruin a piece? Nothing here is cheap. Some of it irreplaceable!” Lau’s hand tightened around his shirt fabric, knuckles trembling.

By the tiny, unkempt, knife like nails on all the children’s hands, Lau felt threatened in the most primal of ways. This backroom was more precious than the rest of the gallery. Treasures lay here, the freedom his hands had fumbled with resided back here with its abundant resources. To give this room to even the potential of a risk made his chest ache with unimaginable anxiety. That these children had been hustled inside against his will felt like raw skin. The flutter of his already fast paced heart made him want to vomit. “If its tools you’re worried about, if anything happens- I’ll pay for replacements. Besides, these babies have honest faces.” Eramanthe encouraged. But that wasn’t the point.

With a flick of Lau’s brown eyes, his heart leapt up into his chest and fell back into his stomach with a magnificent thud. The human child had followed the glass dutifully, finding her way to a secluded corner of the workshop. Her small fingers ghosted curiously over Lau’s own work. It had sat there for months, unfinished, uninspired, but no less dear to the curator. “Get away from that!” Before Lau knew it, he was across the room with the girl’s wrist gripped firmly within his hand. By salarian habit, in moments he had taken in the many details of her small frame. In equal measure, the girl gazed at Lau- seeing nearly every bone underneath his thick amphibian skin. “Don’t. Touch. The artwork.”

Her fingers curled back into her palm, tendons flexing underneath her skin, the girl’s eyes never leaving his. “Sorry.” To her credit, the duct rat human didn’t quake in his grasp. She didn’t fight to peel herself from his fingers. The human child was as still as the statues she was surrounded by.

“Lau!” Eramanthe crossed her arms disapprovingly, manicured nails tapping against her arm. The Asari child held back her turian friend from charging. All eyes in the room were on Lau and were suffocating. He released the girl to check his work for imperceptible cracks. Had she pushed too hard on any one piece? The girl’s friends ran to her side, pulling her back from the much taller man and putting a decent distance between them. “Come get a coffee in the lobby with me, Lau. You need to cool off.” The asari matron demanded, hopping off the table to elegantly brush the dust off her bum.

Like a scolded varren on a leash, Eramanthe led Lau away from the children and into the adjacent room. The empty hall echoed back their footsteps. The marbled stone walls were polished to a perfect shine, as were the floors. Looking down at the floor, Lau watched several clones of himself follow in step with Eramanthe. She stopped in front of the coffee table. Turned on the machine. Gave a cool side eye over her shoulder. Judged him. Lau didn’t meet her eyes, but sneered at the floor. She couldn’t make him regret doing what he’d done. The kid needed to be told not to touch things. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

The sound of the coffee starting to percolate filled the silence between the two adults. The gentle, almost purring sound massaged the nerves inside his skull. The artificial lighting of the ward filtered through the windows, coloring the walls and floors a cool blue. It ghosted across his brown skin, almost like a gauze veil. “You have a problem with humans, Lau?” Eramanthe poured out the brown liquid into two mugs and fixed them up to each of their likings. She handed him the smooth white cup.

“What? No! I’m not a racist, Era.” He set the cup back down on the counter.

“Mm, Species-ist.” Eramanthe took a small sip of her drink. “It’s okay if you are-Well, actually, not okay. But you wouldn’t be the first to not like them.”

“No, Era. I just don’t like kids! I told you that!”

Eramanthe cocked a brow and waited for him to continue. When he did not, she filled the quiet. “Sure. I get that. But you’ve paid a mean kind of attention to her since those three walked in here. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” With asari grace, her stare leveled him. Cutting to his core, her green eyes searched for answers. “Do you have a problem with humans?”

That she found the need to reiterate herself was insulting. For the five years she had known him, there was still a shadow of a doubt that he could be a racist? All because of that kid with the pale eyes. It was like someone had drained nearly all the paint out of them but left only a smattering of blue. They were too familiar, but for once Lau couldn’t put his finger on from where. With the way those eyes disturbed him; maybe he didn’t want to know.

“No.” Lau straightened his back, drawing himself to his full height. He was taller than Eramanthe by a few inches, the asari only coming up to his shoulders. Eramanthe placed a hand on her hip, nodding and smiling. Satisfied.

“Breathe, then.” Like the tide going out to sea, Eramanthe’s hands moved out toward the open air. The tension dissipated, leaving Lau with a bitter ringing in his ears. Give him five minutes, he’d be fine. But for now, the way Eramanthe had sloughed off the interrogation vexed him. “You’re such a serious little frog, my friend. You were too intense back there! You should have just asked her not to touch your doodad. No need to yell and grab her.”

“I guess.” Lau rubbed his arm, conceding with a deep breath. The kid should know by now, but…

Eramanthe finished off her coffee, and looked at Lau’s mug. It remained untouched. She took time to consider the space that the two inhabited and fiddled with her fingers. Another quiet moment passed between them as the two stood in close proximity, caressed by the blue light of the Tayseri Ward. She wrapped her arms around Lau’s spindly waist and rested her head on the rim of his upper chest. “I’m sorry.” Eramanthe’s gaze was directed at the floor, her brows knit together by thought. “I was overly pushy with you again, wasn’t I?”

Lau grunted half heartedly, returning Eramanthe’s hug with a friendly and accepting pat to her back. “Its fine, Era. Don’t worry about it.” It wasn’t as if this was unusual behavior for Eramanthe. Lau knew enough of her to expect little else-she was an overly enthusiastic woman, and an asari besides. Where else could he expect her to put her energy towards? It was in the species nature.

Breaking the silence of the lobby was a loud shattering sound from the back room and the two adults eyes widened as they looked at each other in horror! Their feet stumbled over the smooth paneling of the floor as they ran towards the sound, fearing the break they were about to see-the news they’d have to bring to a creator. Lau and Eramanthe’s head pivoted as far as their bodies would allow as they surveyed the statues on the working floor. Nothing appeared overturned or broken, but the children were nowhere to be seen. Lau moved quickly through the maze of half finished forms, eyes taking in the unperceivable with a speed that rivaled lightning.

His heart sank into his gut for the second time that day and his head snapped with dizzying speed towards the darkened corner he called his own. Eramanthe slapped her hands over her mouth, looking towards the salarian with watering eyes. Lau’s hand grazed across an empty podium, tiny shards of clay scattered across the floor. The larger pieces, however, were missing. The human child had broken it.

And then she’d stolen it.

#butthound writes #salarian #salarians #mass effect #mass effect 1 #asari #turian #fanfiction #fanfic #SASA

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shewantedtobeasecretgirl · 4 years

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The Backstage Pass (Out)

Hey everyone... this is still not an update of Do You Wanna Dance? but another pathetic attempt of me to provide you with PJ-related reading material... Sssooo, there was this post of @gardenofstoney... and I’ve always taken tags verry seriously. I felt addressed since the situation she described sounded absolutely like a perfect fanfic material so I ended up playing with the idea. One thing led to another and a Stone Gossard one-shot happened, which I hereby share with you (with her and @mookiebaelock’s consent). Disclaimer: may contain traces of Jeff Ament!

Ps. I solemnly swear I get Judy out of the shower soon.

„Are you sure you don’t want to move towards the side of the stage? These Vedder-fanatics seem pretty dangerous, I’m not sure I want to be here when they go wild…” Mel asked fidgeting with the setups of her professional camera.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m fine here…” Maggie answered leaning her forehead against her arms that were resting on the barrier. She was dog-tired; she and her best friend, Mel were cueing the whole day to get there at the show of their favorite band, Pearl Jam. Actually, Pearl Jam was their second favorite band but it was the rock group that brought them together. They saw each other’s introduction in the “Pen Pal Wanted” column of Footsteps, the band’s fanzine and the rest was history... And finally, they were there, standing at their precious front row places, waiting for the show to begin…

They agreed on standing in front of the center of the stage since they both had different preferences… Mel was dying to make close shots of her bassist crush (and maybe steal a few smiles and glances from him), while Maggie was interested in the other side of the stage… to be more accurate, in the person who regularly ruled it. Stone Gossard. The absent-minded, aloof alien who played the rhythm guitar parts and who, unfortunately, wasn’t the most responsive member of the band. He was said to be a sarcastic, hilarious and nice guy but at shows he just… didn’t give a shit about the crowd. He was usually absorbed in the songs, following the rhythm with his entire body, marching to the beat or just bobbing his head… but that was all. No interaction, no communication, just the chords. If Maggie had been alone there, she would have picked his side and stayed there as if she had been pinned to the ground… but Mel wanted to stand near Jeff so they made a compromise. Of course, Mel tried every kind of dirty trick to lure her closer to Mike’s and Jeff’s territory and Maggie begged desperately with her irresistible sad puppy face to move in the other direction, after all, if the mountain won't come to Muhammad… and Jeff would bounce around, anyways, she argued. But neither of them could convince the other one so they were stuck in front of the place of Eddie Vedder and they knew they would have to fight hard to be able to keep their position.

“You will defend me, I know.” Maggie cuddled to her friend, letting herself be pulled in a bear hug. She was short and slim, the top of her head barely reached the level of the tall Mel’s chin, that’s why they often joked about themselves being two dogs coming from different species but being allies and best friends forever.

“I’ll defend you just… not now, oh my god, ohmygod, they’re here, that’s him!!!” Mel suddenly let her go frantically taking one picture after another of her main target.

“Okay, I can’t win against Jeff Ament…” Maggie shook her head with a forgiving smile only to discover the object of her admiration appearing on the other side of the stage, walking around with a deadpan on his face. She couldn’t help chuckling when she noticed he was wearing a black socks-dress shoes combo... with light brown shorts. She’d already got used to these weird testimonies of his terrible fashion sense but he always managed to surprise her with a newer unacceptable outfit.

When the singer finally showed up too, the crowd moved forward, pressing the girls against the barrier… and from that moment on, they only had some rest during the slower songs. Not that they wanted to complain, they were singing along the lyrics, screaming, laughing, crying or just squeezing each other’s hand making sure they were not dreaming, they were finally together, having the time of their life, really living their favorite songs. Mel was overly contented with seeing the bass player’s manly moves in the tight tank top he was wearing and the passionate solos and dazed-off moments of Mike pleased both of them too, even if they were within the spitting range of Ed. But as time went by, they both started feeling the depressing thought that this would be over soon, even if they tried to fight against it by bouncing and screaming twice as intensely as before…

When Stone started playing the opening chords of State of Love and Trust, the crowd went completely nuts and Maggie had to tighten her grip not to be drifted… the pressure behind her eased for a second but at once, she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head and lost the touch with the outside world…

***

Mhmmmm… what are these bright lights? I must have died and got in that shining corridor about which people who experienced clinical death always tell…

“Jesus, I go blind…” I mumble… or am I just hearing my own thoughts? Shit, this splitting headache, I’m definitely alive, I must have fallen asleep after taking in my migraine pill.

“Do you prefer low light?” a nasal male voice asks and as I look around, I find myself lying on a couch but I’m not in my own apartment, I don’t know this place. Oh, so I’m in a dream, nice, let’s see where it’s going…

“Yes, please!” I groan covering my eyes.

“Clouds roll by… sorry, bad joke, here, is it better his way?”

I take away my hand from my eyes and let them adjust to the pleasant half-light provided probably by a standing lamp somewhere out of my sight. When did I learn how to change the setting of my dreams? Cool… The owner of the voice takes place opposite me only to make me realize, I’m in a Stone dream, moreover, this time it’s a new one.

“Are you okay?” he’s checking me with the inquiring but still expressionless stare of a toad.

“More or less…” I mumble helplessly. Interesting, I’ve never had such a vivid dream about him, it’s somehow different, like I was in charge, I’ve never felt like this before while dreaming… Familiar melodies provide the musical accompaniment, I have to listen for a few bars until I recognize Yellow Ledbetter… but he’s here… and the music comes from…?

“Are we… at a show?” I ask suspiciously, I’m afraid that despite the realistic surrounding, it’ll turn into an incoherent screenplay written by my subconscious.

“Yes, we are…”

“But how come you’re not playing? You should be on the stage with the others…”

“I don’t feel like playing… I mean in that song, I have basically not much to do, I strum the same chords as Mike, it’s boring. At sound checks, sometimes I beg until I can play the drum parts, I’m a desperate drummer but I love it. But the rhythm guitar part is just… nah. Plus, I had to pee, anyways.”

“Fair enough.” I snicker. He’s such an awkward dork, even in my dreams. “Well, that happens if a musician is too busy with drinking beer at gigs instead of playing”.

“Excuse me?” he startles offended. That’s my favorite thing in dreaming, I can do and say what I’d never dare in real life.

“Do you think we don’t notice when you’re just fudging, walking around with the guitar and use the change of amplifier setups as an excuse to take a few sip of your booze? That doesn’t really count as musical contribution.”

“Ugh, busted. I try not to drink before the show though. Right as soon as I get onstage I start drinking. But come on, I never belch out of key, what’s this if not musical humility?”

I snort shaking my head and keep grinning from ear to ear. If he’s such a hilariously funny guy in my fantasy, how adorable he can be in the reality… I know he used to be an annoying, sarcastic little shit but when PJ got really successful, he mellowed down and made himself to the main target of his irony… The mixture of this down-to-earth humbleness and calm confidence was one of the main reasons why he became my favorite member in the band; in the band that only consists of great, relatable people, by the way.

Maybe I should use the occasion to have a chitchat with him, I could ask him questions about stuff I’ve always wanted to know… even if the answers are only the products of my mind…

“Do you see the world in yellow?”

Okay, maybe that’s not the best start but the colored lenses of his spectacles somehow distracted me and it just slipped out. He reacts with that short, amused eyebrow twitch I love… good job, Maggie.

“It’s a good question! It’s funny, nobody asked that before… but to answer it, I do, it’s like being trapped in that moment of sunset when everything is glowing in that golden light… but to be less poetic, it makes everyone look as if they were Lego figures, they have yellow head, y’know…”

The mentioning of my favorite toy brings back old memories about the times when I was building my own town with eclectic houses that served as the scene of the made-up action stories crafted by my cousin and me.

“I you were a Lego figure, you’d be a bad boy.” I remark with a timid smile and try to ignore the fact that my cheeks are in flames.

“Only if I were a Lego figure? That’s offensive. I was the member of the gang Newton Street Boys. We were the most dangerous guys on whole Capitol Hill, we terrorized the district by taking protection rackets from kindergarten pupils. They were scared to death when we showed up riding our bikes, I liked the banana-seat ones with the high handlebars - maybe a card in the wheel could have been part of it.” he chuckles playfully. “Anyway, why a bad boy?”

“It’s because of the scruff.” I giggle and reach out to pinch his neck but he leans away.

“Please don’t touch me.” he grunts.

Hey, brain, we had an agreement: if I behave decently enough in real life, you won’t throw any obstacles in the way of my naughty tendencies at nights. So if I want to touch Stone’s perfect neck, I’m gonna to do it. Period.

“I said no!!!” he repeats this time angrier when my fingers approach his skin again. What the hell???

“Sorry. I… I just wanted to say that there were those bearded figures… and you could get them mostly from the pirate or the police station series.”

“You mean they had an attachable Lego beard?” he inquires confused and excited at the same time; I’m sure he’s already forgotten the embarrassing intermezzo and is now desperately trying to recall the look of the little yellow dudes.

“Haha, no, it was just painted on their face. There was the moustache, the regular beard and the scruff that basically meant black dots on their face. And the scruffy guys always played the role of the bad boys in my stories. You know, the bank robber, the fleeing prisoner…”

“… the fucked-up musician… we should definitely have a Lego party once!”

“We should…” I repeat and we’re smiling silently at each other for a few seconds… I clear my throat and swallow hard since my mouth got completely dry, shit, it must be that damn gum-shield I have to wear at nights to prevent myself from gnashing.

“You want some water?” he asks walking to a fridge standing at the door.

“Fuck, yes, I’m dying of thirst.” I moan and I mean it.

“Here.” he hands a small bottle to me while he opens a beer can. I rather don’t make any remarks, the show is over, after all… But now that I think into it, maybe the other band members will show up too… I can’t wait!

I lower my head and press the ice cold bottle against my forehead. It feels incredibly good, that blinding pain is still pulsing in my head. As I direct my gaze onto the ground, I can’t help laughing again when I spot his dress shoes and the black socks tucked into them. The hem rolled down around his left ankle making the socks look like they were unmatched.

However thirsty I am, I can only take small sips since I’m already snorting at the next part of this weird vision.

“Anyway… before the others would arrive, there’s one thing we have to discuss.” I begin when I finally manage to force my facial muscles into a serious expression.

“Something that stays between us? Like a dirty little secret?” his face lights up with a boyish smile.

“Kind of, if your socks are dirty…” I roll my eyes. “It’s the footwear.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Of course yours, mine is normal. Matching boots, a totally adequate choice for a rock concert. But yours is just… criminal.”

“Don’t be rude with my shoes, they look good and they are comfy as fuck!” he circles with his feet comically.

“They do but man, look in that mirror!” I point at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. “You look like the mixture of an elementary school boy and a bachelor dressed by his mother. Shorts with dress shoes? How? Why? It’s an obvious no-no!” I scream.

“I have only these ones, sneakers and flip flops with me, which doesn’t leave much variation.” he shrugs briefly.

“You should have chosen the sneakers… as for the “f” word, I’m not even willing to pronounce it.”

“I always wore hiking boots in the earlier times, they were the most comfortable choice but they weren’t compatible with the heat on stage. And then, I got introduced in the magical world of orthopedic sandals but the band somehow vetoed them, I don’t really understand why... I was only allowed to wear them between shows and at soundchecks but at gigs, I had to wear the boots… Once, before a show, maybe in Atlanta, I can’t remember exactly, the sole of my boot separated so I could only wear my sandals… the guys freaked out about my velvet shorts-sweatpants-white socks-sandals outfit and obliged me to wear Jeff’s shoes during the show.” he recalls but I can barely listen to him, his hand talk and the fidgeting alien fingers are definitely more appealing than the image of Birkenstocks worn with socks.

As my eyes are glued to him, I involuntarily start playing with my hair but my fingers land in something sticky. I check them and glance at him helplessly, as if he could help me find out why blood is the next nonsense feature in this scene.

“Fuck, why didn’t you tell me earlier that you’re bleeding?” he shouts and rushes to the fridge.

“Because I didn’t know…” I mutter and can’t form further coherent sentences since he steps back to me with an ice bag and presses it to the back of my head… and he keeps standing opposite me with his arms laced around my neck. I’m desperately trying to look at the ceiling, the ground and the four walls at the same time, anywhere but him…

“This is too embarrassing, I want this to finally end… this is terrible.” I whisper in pain, fixing my gaze on the ugly shoes and working on calming down my hyperventilation with all my nerves.

“Hey, I just wanted to help! Just for the record, we don’t often let passed-out fans in the backstage, you were in bad shape and…”

“No, I mean, thanks and all but this dream… it’s going nowhere, it was funny but you entering into my personal space creates a tension that needs resolution, like a hug or a kiss or anything, this makes just no sense!” I blurt out, basically arguing with myself, the director of the movie.

“What? That doctor could finally arrive, you must have a concussion!” he gently tries to push me back onto to the couch but I shake his hands off me.

“What doctor... wait… the pain… the blood… is this… real?” I flail still hoping he doesn’t exist and suddenly disappears or turns into my real crush or Edge from U2 or whatever.

“You got hit with by a half-empty beer can and you passed out so the security personnel fished you out of the crowd. Since I came back anyway, I suggested that they should lay you down here until they get a doctor. You got a backstage pass by passing out. A backstage pass out.” he tries to ease he situation with a pun but I’m not really in the mood.

“No… the scruff… the shoes… the ki… I can’t believe I said all this bullshit, this is worse than a nightmare…” I bury my face into my palms completely mortified and stumble back towards the couch dizzily. Suddenly, I hear a familiar voice… Mel!!!

***

“I’m not going to repeat this again, my best friend is in that room so if you won’t let me in immediately, I’m going to fuckin’ sue you!!!” Mel pointed with her index finger outraged at the huge guy standing in front of the door of the dressing room. Actually, instead of suing, she wanted to headbutt him in the chest but she knew it would feel like running into a concrete wall. She’d already been arguing with him for like fifteen minutes but the guy was just standing there with folded arms, stoically bearing the threats and the various spells casted on him by the furious girl.

“Hey, Ernie, I think you can let her in, her friend has just woken up, it’d be better if she’s with her when the doctor arrives…” a top of a head with ruffled hair peeked out of the door. The security guard obeyed and silently stepped aside.

“Maggie!!!” Mel shouted and tossed the young man in the door away to get a free way to her friend. “I was so worried about you!!!” she captured her into a rib-breaking hug.

“I’m… I’m okay… Stone took care of me…” Maggie mumbled against Mel’s chest trying to point at the guitarist under her friend’s arm.

“Stone???” Mel screamed making both of them turn around without breaking the hug.

“Yup.” the guitarist waved clumsily with one hand at her, digging his other hand deeply in his pocket.

Maggie managed to tiptoe enough to rest her head on her friend’s shoulder, which allowed her to saw the door opening… only to recognize the other members of the band arriving back from the stage. The small group was guided by Jeff who stopped at the door exchanging a surprised look with the embarrassed guitarist standing in the room.

Maggie started silently shaking of laughter because she could already imagine what’d happen next…

“Uhm… Mel… I’m choking… please let me go…” she acted patting her friend’s back a few times. “I think you should turn back… slowly…” she recommended biting her lips to hide her amusement when she pulled away to see the girl’s reaction.

“Why… what…?” Mel looked back over her shoulder and… due to the bassist’s excellent reflexes, she didn’t land on the ground but in his arms. Jeff stared shocked alternately at the unconscious girl and the other ones, begging for help with his eyes.

“Jesus, not again… “Stone sighed facepalming.” She’s yours, I’m out.”

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jbbarnesnnoble · 4 years

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Stealing Cinderella

Summary: You bring Bucky to meet your parents

Features: Fluff and lots of it; protective father

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Notes: I was listening to Brantley Gilbert’s ‘Bad Boy’ and Chuck Wicks’ ‘Stealing Cinderella’ which brought this about. I might write a second part

Companion to the ‘Operation Happily Ever After’ series which is Steve/Reader. Two different readers. I was working on the first fic in OHEA and realized they would be perfect companion pieces

Series: A Wedding for Winter

Word Count: 1595

It had been a long time since James Buchanan Barnes felt nervous about something so trivial. But, he supposed, it wasn’t all that trivial. The first big step in your relationship. Meeting your family. More specifically, your parents. It was only dinner with your parents. He tried to calm himself by reminding himself that technically he was older than your parents. It backfired, causing a new wave of panic at the realization that though he was somewhat close in age to you in nearly every sense, he had been born in 1917, long before either you or your parents or even your grandparents have been a thought. Most of the time between then and now, he was on and off the ice as Hydra required. He didn’t live those years. He survived them.

“James? Bucky? You ready?” your voice came, breaking through his train of thought. He looked at you and nodded. You had driven the pair of you to your parents’ home. You weren’t an Avenger. You were a civilian, one who he had fallen for, unexpectedly. It had started as a friendship. You were friends with Natasha, something about a yoga class. Bucky couldn’t imagine Natasha doing something so ordinary, so normal. It had thrown him when Natasha had brought you to the compound one day. You had had a day out with Natasha and Wanda, ending with watching romantic comedies on the couch in the shared common area and poking fun at the tropes.

He snapped out of his thoughts when the front door opened. He had barely registered getting out of the car and walking up to the house. A dog excitedly jumped on you as you laughed.

“Sweetheart, we’re so happy you could make it. This must be James,” your mother said, looking at Bucky. She was sizing him up. Whatever she was looking for, she must have found it, because the next second she was asking if it was okay to hug him, catching him off guard.

“Please, call me Bucky,” he said as your mother pulled him into a hug. Your father was another story. Bucky was almost certain you’d had to threaten him into leaving a shotgun in a gun safe or something with the way he was looking at him.

“Nice to meet you, son,” your father said extending his hand. Bucky shook it, taking note of the strength. Yeah. Your dad was not a fan. Once you all entered the house, Bucky took note of the decorations. Photos sat on the entertainment center. One was clearly your high school graduation, you in your white cap and gown as you stood in front of the house, balloons with your high school colors on one side and the colors of your college on the other. Next to it, a photo from your college graduation, both your parents beside you.

“Oh my god, why do you have this picture up? Mom!” you exclaimed grabbing a photo off the shelf. Bucky caught a glimpse of it before you did. You were covered in mud, your hair a mess with a group that was in a similar state. What caught his eye most was that you had to have been around fourteen in the photo. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Rory Anderson’s thirteenth birthday. There was a water slide, except by the end of the afternoon, there was a giant mud puddle at the end. I swear everyone’s parents flipped out. Not mine though,” you said, laughing. He smiled at you. Your father sat quietly, appraising the scene.

A few minutes later, the four of you sat down for dinner. It was quiet until your mother broke the ice. It was going fine until your father asked about Bucky’s parents.

“Dad,” you said sharply.

“What? It’s a reasonable question,” your father said. You glared at him.

“You know what,” you said.

“It’s fine doll. Really. What would you like to know sir?” Bucky asked, maintaining eye contact with your father. You couldn’t decipher the look on either man’s face. It seemed like a challenge had been issued and neither wanted to lose. Bucky spoke about his mother, about his sister. He spoke about how he made an effort to see Rebecca as often as he could. She was nearing one hundred, and he was determined to make the most of the time he had left with her. You could see your father relaxing a bit as Bucky spoke.

“What’s it like being so close with Captain America?” your mother asked. You wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. To you, the night had been a disaster.

“He’s still the same punk kid from Brooklyn I grew up with. He’s just less breakable now,” Bucky joked.

While you were helping your mother clean up after dinner, Bucky sat in the living room with your father. He had insisted on helping clean up, but your mother wouldn’t have it, insisting you and her needed to catch up.

“You love my daughter,” your father said. Bucky blinked before clearing his throat.

“We haven’t--,” he started to say before your father held a hand up.

“Doesn’t matter. I can see it. The way you look at her. She’ll kill me if she knows I said this. But you hurt her, I end you. I don’t care how much training you have. She’s my little girl. She’s had her heart broken real bad before, son. And I’ll be damned if I let you get away with breaking it too. I’ve never seen her look at someone the way she looks at you,” your father said. Bucky swallowed nervously. He had taken on enemies much bigger than your father, and yet your father was one of the scariest things he’d faced since he joined the team.

“I’d never do anything to intentionally hurt her,” Bucky said. You father sighed.

“It’s not the intentional I’m worried about, Sergeant Barnes. Your work is dangerous. She could get pulled into it. I’m not sure my baby girl could handle losing you. And I’m worried about the danger she’d put herself in for you,” your father admitted.

“I know,” Bucky said. There wasn’t much else he could say. He knew the risks, the dangers that being with him brought to your life. And yet, you accepted them, no questions asked. You worked out with Natasha regularly, and part of that included training so you could defend yourself if you needed to. You’d taken to practicing archery with Clint for the hell of it.

“You’re good for her. Despite all that. I can tell. She’s the happiest she’s been in a long time. We worried about her, when she moved to New York. But then she met you, met your friends. When the time comes,” your father said trailing off as you and your mother entered the room with coffee for the four of you. You sat down next to Bucky, smiling at him.

A year later, Bucky found himself back at the house, this time without you. You’d been together a year and a half. He knew. He’d managed to pick out a ring without it being splashed on social media, despite Steve and Sam coming with him when he was picking a jeweler to design it. A beautiful white sapphire ring, white gold. The center stone was modest, with smaller stones in the band. He knocked on the door and waited. Your father opened it, ushering him inside and into the living room. Your mother was out of the house. She couldn’t keep a secret from you and Bucky’s appearance at the house would tip you off at just how imminent a proposal was. You’d talked about marriage. You knew a proposal was coming, you just weren’t sure if it’d be next week, next month, or next year.

“Sir,” Bucky started to say. Your father held up a hand, grabbing a bottle first.

“I’ll let you say what you want to say, but first, I think we could both use a small drink,” your father said. Two glasses with ice were already on the table as he poured a small amount of whiskey into each before handing one to Bucky.

“I want to marry your daughter,” Bucky said.

“I know. I knew since the day I met you,” your father said, a small smile on his face.

“She uh, she knows I’m planning on asking you for permission. I love her. More than anything,” Bucky said.

“I had my reservations when she told us who she was dating. The fact that you aren’t just older than her, you were born several generations before her. But her mama talked some sense into me. You’ve been through a lot. You deserve happiness and if that happiness brings my daughter happiness too? Who am I to stand in the way and kick up a fuss about it? You’re both adults. As much as it pains me to admit, she’s grown up. And I know she’s safe with you. I suppose that’s all a father ever wants. Is for their children to be safe, to be loved. And she has that with you,” your father said.

The anxiety Bucky had felt started to melt away. Him doing this had been one thing he refused to compromise on. You’d found it endearing. It didn’t take much to convince you to let him do it.

Leaving your childhood home, Bucky had only one thing left on his list of things to do, and that was get things set for the proposal.

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