#this has been in my drafts for a few weeks and I almost forgot to post ADKJHAGK | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

earlgreydream · 2 months

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gods, I’m so sorry. this has been in my drafts since APRIL 2023…. I’m finally getting to it, thanks so much for this sweet request ♥️

requested: bucky needing to have a hand on you (stroking ur hair, hand on ur knee, etc) at all times after he nearly loses u 🥺 to reassure u that ure safe and he's there but mostly to reassure himself

The silence was deafening, and it was so dark. Had it always been this way? James couldn’t remember. The Brooklyn apartment didn’t feel like a home anymore. It was empty without you, your absence ripping the essence of life from his home.

He sighed, not bothering to turn on the light. James didn’t have any intention to stay, the emptiness held an eerie feeling that he just couldn’t shake. He almost forgot what he’d gone home for — to get a change of clothes before heading back to the Tower, to wait for you.

James felt like he should have been out looking. You’d been missing for weeks — disappearing on a mission with Sam, to gather intel. There wasn’t supposed to be any real danger, he would never have let you go if he was worried about a threat to your safety.

“We need to go back, they found her,” Steve’s voice cut through the silence, and Bucky’s heart seized at his words.

“Is she alive?”

The first thing your mind registered was pain. There was a dull, heavy throbbing in every part of your body. When you tried to open your eyes, everything was too bright, and a terrible beeping worsened your splitting headache.

You blinked away the fog in your vision, a hospital room slowly coming into focus. James stood up from a chair in the corner and ran to your side, speaking frantically. You couldn’t understand him, it sounded like his voice was underwater, unclear and garbled.

Panic surged through your chest when you looked down to see an IV in your arm, and you registered the tubes on your face that were meant to help you breathe. You clawed at the IV in your arm, nails scratching your skin as you attempted to rip the needle out.

“Stop, please, baby,” James begged, grabbing your wrist to keep you from accidentally hurting yourself.

“James?” You rasped, the fear in your voice breaking his heart.

“I’m here. You’re safe, you’re in the hospital at Stark Tower. Nothing can hurt you anymore,” he promised, the words sounding clearer in your head this time.

Your chest heaved and tears started to leak down your cheeks, whimpering as a nurse emptied a sedative into your system.

James held your hand, so the nurse didn’t cuff your wrists to the bed. Your memory was foggy, but your body remembered what you’d been through — your heart rate monitor beginning to scream as the nurse talked about restraining you.

“Get out. Just get out!” James shouted, one of the few times you’d ever seen him with tears running down his face.

You began to fade as the sedative kicked in, the room quieting once it was just you and James. He listened to your shallow breathing, gently rubbing his thumb across your forearm, needing to touch you as he sat next to the bed. He had to have his hands on you, to remind himself you were there, safe.

“Don’t leave me,” you begged softly, your trembling hand laying over his.

“I won’t leave you, I promise… just get some rest, okay?” He kissed your knuckles, gazing at you with wet blue eyes.

“I can stay with her, so you can go home, change, sleep in your own bed?” Steve offered, coming in while you were asleep.

“I'm not leaving,” James murmured, barely looking up at his best friend.

“Has she told you anything about what happened?” Steve took a seat on the other side of your bed, an action that James was grateful for, even if he didn’t say so.

“No. She’s barely coherent, they’ve got her on some pretty intense medication…. Steve, she’s in rough shape. How was she when you found her?”

James was afraid to ask, but had to know. Steve shifted his weight, looking down at the floor before finally looking back at your sleeping form, bruised and battered.

"Bad, James. Hydra had her tied up, suspended from the ceiling."

James rubbed his fingers over the raw, red rings around your wrists from the restraints, stopping as you winced in your sleep.

You opened your eyes, looking over at him, reaching out to trail your fingertips over the scruff on his cheek.

"Steve, thank you," you spoke hoarsely, turning to the blond who stood at the end of the hospital bed.

"Of course. How are you feeling?" he approached and gently took your outstretched hand.

"Everything hurts," you groaned, shaking as you tried to sit up.

"Here," James helped you, supporting your weight as you settled into a seated position.

Two weeks later, you'd recovered enough to be discharged.

"I don't want to stay at the tower, I want to go home," you insisted to James, anxious to be back in the shared Brooklyn apartment.

You held his hand as he drove you to the brownstone, flinching at car horns and loud noises. As much as you ached to be home, the trauma still exhausted your nervous system, and kept James on edge.

Your friends had been kind enough to clean your place for you, warm and smelling of the dinner that was in the oven, waiting for you and James. He followed you to the kitchen, smiling softly as you eagerly dug into the first real food you’d got since your return.

Despite have the whole table to yourself, you sat on Bucky’s knee as you ate, his arm around your waist. He was quieter than usual, his face pressed into your shoulder, needing to be as close as possible. He was unable to let you go, afraid you’d slip through his fingers.

Later that night, Bucky sat on the edge of the tub, helping rinse your hair. He had all but gotten in the water with you, his sleeves rolled up as he tenderly washed your skin. Candles flickered on the counters, dimly lighting the fragrant room.

“I’m okay,” you whispered to James, your hand going to his jaw as he kissed you. His lips were soft against yours, parting just enough to catch your small gasp. You chased his mouth when he pulled away, only briefly satisfied as he planted another firm kiss to your lips. He stood to get you a towel, wrapping you up as you rose from the water.

“Let’s go to bed,” he urged, unable to hide his anxiety.

“You won’t sleep,” you accused, knowing he’d be up all night, just as he had for days.

“We can put on a movie. I just need to hold you,” his big eyes were framed by dark lashes, eyes that were impossible to say no to.

You slipped into one of his tee shirts before following him, letting yourself snuggle against his side, his arms tightly wrapping around your middle. The rhythm of his heartbeat and soft sounds of the television lulled you to sleep, resting safely in his embrace.

#Bucky #Bucky barnes #Bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky imagine

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lactoseintolerentswag · 3 days

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Rise Characterizations Pt. 8!!!!!!!!

This has literally been sitting in my drafts for so long I forgot it existed. Sorry to all the Baron Draxum fans (and Draxum himself, bbgirl deserves better). If you're new to my line of notes here's the beginning where I started with Raph. Alright part 8, Baron Draxum, here we go.

Language Habits:

Speaks in long and drawn out sentences, if you're getting nervous about run-on sentences you're on the right track

Due to this, tends to give speeches or monologues

Dramatizes everything fairly eloquently, look for the most exaggerated form of a word. Classic villain speak: "imbeciles", "brethren", "eliminate"

Puts emphasis on those dramatic adjectives and verbs

Occasionally refers to himself in the third person, not as often as Raph

Tends to yell or raise his voice when frustrated or lost in passion

A common gag is trailing off in a casual tone about the severity of his experiments ie his "if it works right" about the ooze causing pain when mutating that poor fish guy

Personality:

Incredibly intelligent yet impatient. It isn't known to my knowledge who taught Draxum or if he taught himself, but his mastery of alchemy and fighting makes him a truly impressive opponent. However, he's always cutting corners to get to his goal. He wasn't willing to raise through the ranks of The Foot the traditional way, he created an army of mutants rather than seek yokai, and was unwilling to spend further time interpreting the prophecy of doom towards yokai-kind

Flair for the (over)dramatic. Draxum is almost your classic evil villain kind of guy. He'll pull out all musical stops, including flowing hair and clothes. On the other end he'll completely overreact and commit to things of little matter like his position as a lunch lady.

Unyielding in his stubbornness. Draxum is not easily swayed in his belief, and even as hard as Mikey tries he is not rid of his disdain for humans by the end of the series. Guy was also incredibly persistent in his research despite his lab blowing up twice. This also allows him to hold longer grudges, even resorting to childish pettiness if he feels annoyed enough.

Affinity for muscles and power. He was drawn to Lou Jitsu for many reasons, but a main one was definitely his muscles. All his guards are usually incredibly beefy, and he was immediately drawn to Raph as "beautiful" when he's reintroduced to his specimens. As for power, he's drawn to the dark armor and is lost in the ecstasy of being imbued with so much mystic energy.

Self-absorbed and egotistical. Draxum is kind of obsessed with his title and self-proclaimed responsibility for saving yokai-kind. He's not one to easily admit his mistakes and takes great pride in his work.

Willing to toe the line of morality. Huginn and Muninn have blatantly called him their evil boss, but Draxum does see his actions for the good of yokai-kind. I don't think he really cares if he's working with evil organizations (The Foot) or doing evil things if he saves the day.

Team builder. I think it's interesting how Draxum is drawn to building teams. He's drawn to working together, all he wants to do is unite yokai and his mutants into an efficient force. This does not mean he's very successful.

Miscellaneous:

Has minor telekinesis

Was a warrior before he was an alchemist

Does not have a good relationship with the Three Heads (apparent leaders of the Hidden City)

Controls seeds that can a) grow into vines, b) expand into robotic vine gauntlets, c) encase his gauntlets into meatier gauntlets that can shoot out waxy cocoons

Is referred to as a sheep-man from the brothers, but I suppose whatever animal you interpret him as is up to you

Has a great singing voice :) ( which is subjective I suppose)

Alright now that is finally posted just gonna let you know that this Isn't the last of my rise analysis posts!! I'm so sorry for the wait!! I got lost in so many schedule things. I'll try and pump a few more analysis posts out within these next few weeks (excluding June 16-22), but I've also been busy working on miscellaneous wips. Thank you for being so sweet to me on all the other notes posts, you guys are so awesome :)

#save rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #fanfic #character analysis #baron draxum #baron draxum rottmnt #critter talks

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redishflavor · 5 months

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if you saw the other one no you didn't

someone's John dory ask got eaten and I can't find my previous draft on it 😔

A/N -> I'll be starting school soon again so I won't be able to write as many fanfics as right now, but still send it requests! I just won't be able to publish them as fast as before 😅

but anyways (this is way longer than my last one damn)

John dory x reader headcanons

okay let's get one thing straight

this man has been in the wild for over idk how many years

he probably is secretly touch starved

and he's probably really bad at flirting

let's say this is after the events of TBT, so he's back in society again (probably)

hes bumped into you a few times and during those few times it was just some small talk here and there

but then when he bumped into you again he decided to flirt

with a terrible pick up line

after he said that he gave a look that was like "Yep, still got it"

he does not got it

you just looked at him, looked away and snorted

he thinks it's working

it might be

without him asking, you gave him your number on a peice of paper

there was a small not under the number (yall choose idk what to put) with a small heart at the end

(ur stinky but funny ❤️) (I sorry I had to😭😭)

he didn't read the note, he js put it on his wall in a frame

he was the first to text you

just a simple "Hi this is John dory"

and you know how some people type something but not send it?

he did that

"PLEASE PLEASE DATE ME 🙏🙏" then he deleted it to respond 'normally' to your text

after a few weeks of talking to each other you were the first to ask if he wanted to go on a date

he probably has never responded so fast to someone on his life

I js had to add this but he probably lost his other glove bc Rhonda ate it

anyways back on track

the first date you two went on was at a small Cafe (idk I panicked😭)

you two talked about a hunch of stuff but then settled on the topic of bands

one of your favorite band was BroZone

his eyes visibly lit up at the word BroZone

asks a bunch on questions like "who's your favorite band member" or "what's you favorite song"

takes his SWEET TIME telling you he's THE John Dory from BroZone

so many questions from both him and you

but after that date he offers to walk you home

and that's also how he got your address

a few more dates later he's the one to make the first move

a small text saying to meet him up at the Cafe they had their first date in

hes already there looking a bit flustered

after you two sit down he asks if you want to date

and that's how yall start dating (I am so sleepy rn guys)

every now and then he would send small gifts to you like flowers, candies, anything that reminds him of you at almost any store he goes to

he likes compliments, both giving and receiving them

when he's spending the day at your place he likes to cuddle with you

or hold you in any way

hug, hand holding, any touch basically

LOVES when you kiss him

like pepper him with kisses and he's melting

grab a bucket and mop he's gone

when he first introduced you to his brothers they had many questions

when Poppy met you (probably through Branch)

you two both bonded over dating a member of brozone

as you and Poppy were fangirling over them JD just looked at you lovingly

like he almost forgot his brothers were there

he loves you too much

he also gets you free tickets and backstage passes to every single one of BroZone's concerts

you've never missed a single concert

and you have way to much merch (mostly JD's merch) (and it's signed with his signature)

I think I might end it here bc I'm running out of ideas and any longer to post this would end up taking longer to post because school starts in like 2 says for me 😭😭 anyways I hope this was good for whoever asked this and again so sorry I lost your ask! I hope you have a great day/night!!

#x reader #brozone x reader #trolls 3 x reader #john dory x reader #john dory #trolls 3 #trolls headcanons

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tkaulitzlvr · 5 months

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I NEED A PT2 TO THE 'DID U MEAN IT' ANGST PLEAAAAAAAAAASE IM BEGGING

DID YOU MEAN IT (2)- T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you see tom for the first time after calling off your casual hookups - unsure of what to make of tom’s confession after he says something that makes them so much more. it seems that he has had a change of heart, determined to put things straight, no matter how hard you resist.

content: angst & smut

a/n: lowk forgot i even wrote did you mean it LOL, i meant to write a part two a few days after but that never happened😭i’d recommend u read part one before this to remind urself of what happened cause this has sat in my drafts for weeks and i have finally found the motivation to finish it🔥

“truth or dare guys come on!”

a noticeably tipsy voice shouts over the loud music, everybody placing their drinks down and walking over to the large circle that begins to form in the centre of the living room. i contemplate joining, swirling the drink in my hand aimlessly, praying that no one will notice me. normally i would rush towards games like this, enjoying the thrill that came along with them. but that excitement is replaced with dread, because he is here.

my friends hadn’t told me that tom would be at this party - knowing that i would never have agreed to come if i had found out. but it was far too late to leave now, my breath catching in my throat when i had spotted him from the other side of the room, my heart aching as the wound of whatever we had is still fresh. and he spotted me too - his eyes locking onto mine, no longer paying attention to the small blonde clinging onto his frame. though a couple weeks had passed since i had walked out, i know that i’m not ready to speak to him yet, so for the rest of the party i ignore him, despite the obvious glances that he sends my way.

and i was able to do so easily - until now. a game like truth or dare means that i have to face him directly, something which i have strictly avoided. my eyes are glued to his frame - adorned in baggy attire as usual - as he joins the circle himself, no longer accompanied by the girl he was with when i arrived. and just when i think i have managed to get away with missing out on the game, i am dragged over to the circle by one of my friends, unable to resist her strangely strong grip. as i near the circle, tom’s eyes dart to mine, somehow spotting me out of his peripheral vision. if my luck wasn’t bad enough, my friend sits just a few seats beside him, tom now not even a metre away from me, this the closest we have been since we last fucked. i ignore his eyes clearly burning into mine, focusing on the glass bottle that is placed in the centre, watching as it begins to spin around.

“the first person it lands on has to choose truth or dare, the second chooses what they have to do.”

the bottle begins to slow after a few seconds, everybody’s eyes fixed on it - everybody’s except tom’s, who still refuses to tear his gaze away from my body. i groan internally when the glass bottle finally stops, landing directly on me. it spins again, landing on some random guy who i hadn’t seen before.

“truth or dare?”

“dare.” i state confidently, deciding that if i am sitting here, i might as well do something fun, rather than answer a shitty question that would probably be along the lines of ‘what’s your body count?’ or ‘where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?’

“i dare you…” the guy pauses, visibly contemplating over what to instruct me to do, adjusting himself in his seat before continuing. “to sit on the hottest guy in the room’s lap for five minutes.”

seriously? i scoff quietly at his dare, wondering how he failed to come up with something at least a little more interesting. though when i lock eyes with the brunette that had been eyeing me up the entire night, it suddenly doesn’t seem that bad. he is cute, soft brunette curls adorning his structured face, deep green eyes and plump lips, i had spotted him almost as soon as i had entered the party. and he had seen me too, sending me quick glances and smiling at me. the opportunity seems perfect as i grasp it with open arms, standing up and adjusting my dress that was probably too short.

though as i begin to walk over, my steps are quickly restrained as a hand wraps itself firmly around my wrist, pulling me backward to sit on their lap. i turn around, a familiar pair of brown eyes looking back at me, his expression harsh, jaw clenched and gaze darkened. he doesn’t seem at all fazed, his hand remaining firmly on my wrist as he adjusts himself, ignoring the quiet gasps that sound from the people around us. all i can do is stare, somehow unable to scold him like sober me would. i don’t even contemplate getting up just yet, far too shocked to do anything but stare into his eyes, ones that i hadn’t seen since i had caused tears to spill from them the last time we had been this close.

“start the timer.” tom mumbles just loud enough for the rest of the circle to hear, his voice low as he refuses to look away from me. he adjusts my position on his lap, his hands moving to rest on my waist securely.

“what the fuck are you doing-”

“who is that guy?” he completely ignores my question, tightening his hold on me and pulling me even closer, diverting his gaze to the brunette who i had intended to walk over to, though like everyone else he is submerged in conversation with his friends.

“i don’t know.” i groan, feeling his arms tighten around my waist once again, pulling me in so my back is flat against his chest. i hear him tut behind me, his low breaths seeming to get closer and closer to my ear. “maybe i would if you hadn’t fucking pulled me over here-”

“i wouldn’t even let you find out his fucking name.” he quickly cuts me off, voice laced with an anger i hadn’t ever heard before, far beyond the heat of the moment frustration he had displayed a few weeks ago. this time jealousy edges it, the idea of me wanting to entertain another man leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. his lips are now centimetres away from my ear, close enough to be able to just ghost over it, but he stops himself. “you won’t speak to anyone else. because we’re talking about what happened, mhm? that guy isn’t going anywhere fucking near you.”

i scoff at his statement, his bold attitude somewhat amusing. he hadn’t been this possessive ever - when we were fuck buddies we would have sex, then he left. he would take me out for food sometimes, though it always ended in the same way - wrapped up in some random hotel room sheets with his dick inside me, leaving almost just as fast as i had entered. this is new. he had always gotten tense at any mention of me with another guy, yet he never had the guts to call me out. maybe he was jealous, but the most likely explanation is that he simply didn’t care. so why now?

i open my mouth to speak, though i am quickly cut off by the sound of a dull alarm ringing from the other side of the room. the guy that had given me the dare pulls his phone out of his pocket, ending the timer and uttering a quick ‘times up guys’. tom however doesn’t budge, keeping his hands firmly on my waist, despite it being literally impossible for him to have not heard the alarm.

i quickly detach his hands from my hips, standing up and exiting the circle before he can attempt to stop me, wanting nothing more than to be as far away from him as possible. though not because he frustrates me, not because i am seconds away from punching that jealous look off of his face, but because the butterflies that erupt in my stomach from his touch shouldn’t be there - not after i had ended things. my mind had told me that i would be fine without him, and until now i had believed myself. but fuck, i would be stupid to ignore the feeling that his presence ignites, his touch almost enough to make me run back into his arms. though i know that would be irrational, the alcohol in my system not helping my ability to make the right decision, forcing the morally correct part of me to get the fuck away from him before i make a mistake.

the music gets quieter and quieter as i carry on walking down the hallway, pressing my ear against one of the doors on the left, sighing in relief when i hear silence. my hands reach for the handle, pulling it open, silently thanking god that it is not only a bathroom, but an empty bathroom, something that is a luxury at parties of this size. i close the door behind me, turning to face the large mirror above the counter, adjusting my makeup and pulling my dress down - knowing that tom is the reason why it has rolled up so much. the mere thought of him leaves an uneasy feeling in my stomach, his actions totally unexpected and more than anything - annoying.

sure, i had been confident in my decision to cut things off before, but seeing his face and being so close to him proves too much to handle, the unexpected realisation that i am not where near over him beginning to set in. i groan loudly, resting my elbows on the marble counter and placing my head in my hands, quickly realising that i should never have come here in the first place.

the door handle begins to turn, though i don’t even have the energy to see who it is, mumbling a small ‘someone is in here’, hoping that they will move on. though the door fully opens, creaking quietly as i hear footsteps behind me.

“are you fucking deaf? i said-”

my mouth falls open when i turn around, my eyes meeting the brown ones that are the last things i want to see. his dreads hang loosely along his shoulders, tied in their usual ponytail. his expression is stern as he closes the door behind him, twisting the small lock beneath the handle.

“what the fuck do you want, tom?” i sigh, rubbing my temples as the alcohol in my system creates a small headache that begins to throb painfully. he steps a little closer as i move backward, my back hitting the cold counter behind me.

“to talk.” his voice is calm, still laced with anger as he places his hands in his pockets, his gaze never tearing away from mine.

“we have nothing to talk about.”

“don’t play that bullshit with me. we have fucking plenty to talk about.” he cuts me off firmly, tone lacking the composure it had just seconds ago, becoming more frustrated by my somewhat nonchalant attitude. in my head i am screaming, pleading, my mind thinking the exact opposite of what my voice utters, knowing that if i give in, i won’t be able to stop myself. the room turns silent, the uneasy kind that leaves a sinking feeling in your stomach, one that tempts me to leave the room and sprint home.

“i miss you.” he eventually speaks into the silence, tearing it apart with one of the most heavy sentences possible, leaving my voice caught in my throat, unable to do anything besides stare into his eyes.

“the sex you mean? me and the hookups are two different things.” my voice is harsh, probably harsher than i had intended as he scoffs at my statement, shaking his head and clearing his throat. he takes another step towards me, now within arms reach.

“why did you end it?” he completely changes the subject, tone matching the harshness of my own as his eyes narrow, feet shuffling closer to mine as his hands move to rest at either side of the counter, trapping my body between his own and the counter.

“because you said you loved me then changed your mind within ten fucking minutes. don’t act stupid tom.” i shake my head at his stupidity, wondering how he could ask such a question, the answer totally obvious. he still doesn’t budge, arms trapping me against the counter. “why do you care anyway?”

“you wanted to end it, not me. that’s why i care.” as much as it irritates me, he is right. i was the one to call off our regular hookups against his pleas not to. “and that guy is lucky he can walk out of this party alive. he’s been eye-fucking you all night.”

“so what? i’m not your’s tom. i never was. all we did was hookup, i can do what i want.” his jaw clenches at my response as he turns away from me, hands remaining fixed on the counter whilst his head is turned towards the door. he exhales loudly, his grip on the counter seeming to tighten as he grits his teeth, swallowing before looking at the ground.

“what so that’s it then? you don’t even care?” his voice raises now, not far off yelling as he finally backs away, eyes darkened as they scan my own, his expression hurt.

yes i care. of course i fucking care. my heart begs me to scream the words out, to bring him close to me and kiss him like we aren’t complicated. like we have the most simple relationship ever, even though it is everything but. we never dated, nothing beyond a regular hookup, and my heart shouldn’t ache the way it does over somebody who was never mine. somewhere within me, my rational side manages to take control, prompting me to speak after a few painful seconds of silence.

“care about what? look, i don’t understand what you want me to say. we had sex sometimes, now we don’t, that’s all there is to it. bye tom.” each word stabs me in my own heart as i speak them, knowing deep down that i don’t mean any of it, that i will regret pushing him away one day. when my hand reaches for the door, not able to spend another second this close to him, i know that i want nothing more than to show him how i really feel. though the second my palm twists the door handle, it is forcefully pulled backward, my entire body pushed harshly against the counter.

i am unable to object or even question what is happening as tom presses his lips onto mine firmly, silencing any attempts to fight back before i can even utter them. his hands attach themselves to my waist, pushing me further against the counter as his body presses against my own. my eyes close, lips moving to kiss him back without any real thought.

“don’t say shit like that.” he mumbles angrily against my lips, groaning quietly into the kiss as he deepens it, his tongue sliding into my mouth. his lips are soft, just as i had remembered them, always contrasting with the harshness of his metal lip piercing, something which i had grown to love over the course of our hookups - not that i would ever tell him that. never breaking his lips from my own, his hands reach under my thighs, lifting me up and onto the counter in one swift motion. he uses one hand to move my legs apart, standing in between the gap as his mouth works against mine. it is this change in position that soon makes me realise where he is going with this, and no matter how much i want to, i can’t give myself up.

“we can’t.” i mutter against his lips, my words getting through with little success as he mumbles a quiet ‘hm’ against me before kissing me with just as much hunger as before. i place my hands against his chest, pushing him back, though he only takes this as a sign to attach his lips to my neck, planting sloppy kisses all over the skin as his hands run up and down my waist.

“tom we can’t do this.” my voice is much louder this time, firmer than before as he pulls his head from my neck, not moving far as his face is inches from my own.

“why not?” he is breathless, chest rising up and down as his hands still rest on my waist, body resting in between my legs. when i don’t respond, he sighs lowly, moving his head back into the crook of my neck, resuming his lips’ movements on the skin.

“tell me to stop.” his grip on my waist becomes tighter as he presses our bodies flush against each other. the kisses on my skin become much harsher, bordering messy as they aim to caress every inch of my neck. and when i struggle to form words, i realise that tom knows exactly what he is doing, his kisses pausing momentarily to speak. “say you don’t want this. say it and i’ll stop.”

“i-i….” i pause, thinking things through for a second. i choose my words carefully, deciding what to say, wondering if i even mean what is about to leave my mouth. because we both know the real answer, the one that my heart pleads for me to say, even when my words come out as a choked whisper, saying the complete opposite. “i don’t want you. stop…”

“you’re such a bad liar.” he breathes out against my skin, moving to rest his forehead against my own, his eyes flicking between my own gaze and lips, swollen and slightly parted. he doesn’t waste much time though, capturing them in to a harsh kiss, even more desperate than the ones before. his hands move under the small dress that hugs my figure, the pads of his fingertips now dancing along the bare skin of my waist, his touch creating goosebumps along it as i moan lowly into his mouth.

slowly his hands begin to trail down, my mind paying little attention to these small movements, until his finger teases the waistband of my lace panties. my breath gets caught in my throat, lips momentarily stuttering against his own when he wraps his fingers around the lace, tugging it down at a slow pace. his lips still work against mine, only much slower now, pulling away once my panties pool at my feet.

“you have no idea how much i’ve needed you.” he shakes his head whilst his fingers scramble to undo the button of his jeans, pulling them down and stepping out of them. he reaches for his t-shirt, not getting far as i stop his movement, my hands taking the fabric and pulling it over his head, revealing that toned upper half that i had been close to so many times. but no matter how many times i had seen it, i would never get used to it. the muscle that lines his frame, broad shoulders and slightly built arms, trailing down to his somehow perfectly crafted six pack, god he looks good.

and he knows it too, a soft smirk tugging at his lips when he registers that i am staring. “it’s all yours. it always has been, but you had to be fucking stubborn about it.”

he reconnects his lips to mine, spreading my legs apart even further as one finger slips downward, teasing my entrance as i moan into his mouth. i gasp against it when he slowly inserts one finger, knowing just when to curl it to elicit those sounds out of me that he longs to hear. and he knows that whatever he is doing is working, my lips stuttering against his as my head falls backward, legs subconsciously spreading wider. just as i feel myself getting close, he pulls his finger out, placing it in his mouth as his tongue swirls around it, releasing with a small pop. all i can do is watch, my eyes glued to his fingers, staring as they move toward his boxers, hurriedly pulling them down as his dick springs free. his size had always been something that excites me, though now, after being without it for two weeks, my thighs clench together at the sight, needing nothing more than to feel it inside me.

he takes his shaft in his hand, pumping it slightly whilst the other reaches behind my back, undoing the zipper of my dress and pulling it downward. he uses his other hand to pull it completely off of my body, stopping in front of me for a few seconds to take in the view in front of him. his tongue comes out of his lips to gently poke at the metal piercing that adorns it, eyes widening slightly once they make contact with my breasts.

“you’re so beautiful, want you all to myself.” he mumbles quietly, spreading my legs apart and lining his tip up with my entrance. “you ready?”

he waits for my consent, smiling weakly when i nod my head. that is all he needs to begin sliding into me, his head falling backward at the feeling. my walls attempt to stretch out to accustom to his size as i hiss in pain, hands clutching onto the countertop. though i never tell him to stop, deciding that any pain is better than ruining this moment, waiting patiently for it to subside. he finally bottoms out inside me, and i swear i feel his tip prodding at my cervix, the sensation causing my mouth to fall open, tom’s already placing messy kisses on my my chest.

he slides out slowly, almost pulling out completely until only his tip is inside, before thrusting all the way in without warning, my entire body jolting forward at the feeling. he repeats his motions, my body practically on the verge of giving out, hands flying to his chest in search for any form of support. my teeth sink into my bottom lip, hissing quietly as dull flashes of pain wash over me, eventually becoming less and less frequent, instead replaced by pure pleasure.

tom finds a steady pace, his head still buried into my chest as his lips work against it, leaving purplish marks in place of their kiss. my ability to speak is long gone, desperate mewls of his name spilling from my lips as he grabs my hips, using them to speed up his thrusts even more. he moves his head closer to mine, somehow managing to kiss my lips at a slow pace, tongue exploring my own whilst his cock thrusts in and out of me far more relentlessly than ever before.

“doing so good for me, missed this pussy so much…” his praise is cut off by short and almost inaudible groans every few seconds, his nails digging into my waist whenever i clench around him. he pulls his head away from mine, and through half lidded eyes i see his own gaze flash to the large mirror behind us, his pace faltering momentarily as his expression changes, eyes darkening. and before i can question why, he quickly pulls out of me as i whine at the loss of contact, not having long to complain as he takes my body, bending it over the counter as i now look at myself in the mirror, mouth falling open as he thrusts into me once again.

the new angle is almost too much, my body now fully bent over the counter as i almost lose my balance, eyes squeezing shut and eyebrows furrowing. i can feel every inch of him inside of me, every vein seeming to leave its mark inside my walls as i clench around him. my head falls downward, close to being flush against the counter, though tom reaches around to grab my face, forcing me to be level with the mirror once again.

“no no no.” he mutters breathlessly, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he pauses, holding my face harshly in his hands, his grip likely to leave a mark. “watch yourself. look at those pretty faces you make as i fuck you.”

my eyes almost roll backwards when his tip prods directly against my g-spot, fighting the already strong urge to close, determined to comply with tom’s request as he continues to hold my face, his eyes locked on mine through the mirror. his muscles tense with each harsh movement, face twisting lightly after each thrust, the noises he lets out becoming more and more unrestrained as he gets closer and closer to his release.

“i’m so close.” he groans, finally letting go of my head, trailing his hand downward to rub fast circles on my clit, pushing me closer to my climax as the knot in my lower stomach begins to tighten. my legs buckle at his movements, quickly becoming overstimulated as i try to keep myself upright, pressing my body firmer into the counter. tom’s dick begins to twitch inside of me, signalling that he really is close, the soft groan that leaves his lips quickly followed by a much louder one as ropes of his thick cum begin to shoot into me. his head falls backward, low curses pouring from his lips as his cum continues to spill into me, his fast and deep thrusts fucking it upwards, followed by my own release. my hands clutch onto the counter desperately, using whatever little strength i have left to hold myself up, eyes locked on tom’s face as he cums, milking his cock slowly until he can no longer keep going.

he slides out of me, a mix of our juices seeping out of my hole, soon collected by the tissue that tom grabs from the side. sweat lines his body, showing just how tired out he is, if the loud and heavy breaths that leave his parted lips don’t show it enough. he lazily lifts me onto the counter, standing between my legs and pecking my lips softly, doing so repeatedly until our breathing has returned to its normal pace. he slides my panties on for me, grabbing his own boxers and quickly slipping them on, leaving the rest of our clothes on the floor. his forehead rests against mine, hands reaching to move any loose hairs out of my face.

“i meant it.” he states quietly into the silence, his lips ghosting against mine as i look back at him in confusion.

“you meant what?” i ask, my arms wrapping loosely around his neck. he smiles weakly, his thumb coming upward to stroke my cheek gently as i lean into his touch.

“when i said i loved you. i meant it.” no matter how daunting his confession is, he never looks away, his brown eyes searching my own as he blinks slowly. “i know i was a dick when i said it the first time. i didn’t want to scare you away, because i know it was just sex. and don’t get me wrong the sex is great, but it’s been more to me for a while. it did slip out, but i meant it, and i still mean it.”

my eyes widen, unsure of what to say, slightly hesitant to believe him instantly and instead wondering if this is just another ploy to fuck with my head, like he had done the last time. after a few seconds, i attach my lips to his, the kiss much softer than before, lacking the lustful intent behind it that had brought us to this position. he smiles into it, his hands resting on my lower back as his thumbs creates soft circles over the skin.

“i love you too.” his eyes light up at my response, arms wrapping tightly around my waist as he pulls me into a hug, lips pressing short kisses to my shoulder. he pulls away after a few seconds, smiling and reaching down to hand me my dress, quickly slipping on his own clothes and helping me down from the counter. he glances at the mirror, noticing that it is steamed up, his eyes lighting up as a childish idea flashes across his mind.

‘we just fucked :)’ i giggle quietly as he guides me out of the bathroom, glancing quickly at the mirror and reading the messy writing spread across it, hitting his arm playfully. he flashes me a quick smile, placing a hand on my lower back as we rejoin the party, my eyes immediately locking with the boy from earlier. tom quickly spots where i am looking, his eyes darkening as he refuses to look away. instead of walking toward him and starting a fight like i had expected, he places a hand firmly on my ass, kissing my lips roughly, his eyes still locked on the guy as he scoffs, shaking his head and walking elsewhere.

“i told you that he wouldn’t go anywhere near you. you can’t tell me i don’t stick to my word baby.” he smirks in my direction, taking my hand in his and leading me through the crowd, glancing behind him every so often to make sure that i am okay.

thank god for truth or dare.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tokiohotel #tomkaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz angst #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #bill kaulitz

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tcwmatchmakingau · 11 months

Text

Third Time’s the Charm

Captain Rex x Gen!Reader One-Shot

Summary: The war is over, and the Republic has won. Rex signed up for a matchmaking service and you’re meeting for a third date. Basically just Rex fluff and him being nervous and awkward lol.

Rating/Warnings: SFW with kissing, making out, slight suggestiveness.

Word count: 1800-2000ish

Author’s Note: This is a two in one, baby! Not only is it a submission the the Clone Matchmaking AU @tcwmatchmakingau (pls read the other fics that have been submitted!) but also a prompt from @freesia-writes ! The prompt: “kiss me again, but- mphh" from the kissing prompts list. Idk how I feel about this one but I gotta get it out of my drafts.

Please enjoy and reblogs/comments are always appreciated. I just want to kiss Rex, okay? 💕

Rex was pacing, his nerves almost completely shot. He checked the time every few seconds, subtly breathing into his palm to make sure his breath didn’t stink. He smoothed out his civvies, hoping they weren’t too wrinkly.

Shockingly to Rex, you had agreed to meet for a third date.

He was excited, yes. But also incredibly nervous.

Rex liked you.

A lot.

Rex never thought he’d get this far.

He didn’t know what to expect when he reluctantly accepted the first date match from Right to Love Matchmaking Service.

Rex had heard about it from some of his brothers but wasn’t sure it was for him.

Who would want a washed-up soldier? He also knew nothing about dating. Sure, he’s had a few quick flings and stolen kisses in the back of 79s when he was a cadet. But now, the thought of putting himself out there, looking for something serious while having strangers match him with another stranger… sounded like a recipe for disaster.

On the other hand, now that the war was over, companionship did sound nice. And a few of his brothers have had success with the service…

He continuously tossed around the idea, a few times half-filling out the Holonet application before deleting it, the fear of the unknown getting the best of him.

Rex even walked by the building once, Right to Love flashing in neon lights, almost stepping inside before his nerves sent him in the other direction.

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago, when Fives and Echo invited him to a “boy's night out” for drinks, that he was convinced.

Or more like the alcohol did the convincing for him.

One drink turned into two, then three, and somehow the conversation switched to the matchmaking service.

Both Fives and Echo had girlfriends now, having met through Right to Love.

Rex has met them a few times, and they did seem like good partners, and Fives and Echo were happier than he’d ever seen them.

He was proud of them for moving on from the war and finding happiness. Rex couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy sometimes, wondering if he’ll ever get to experience that, too.

Rex mentioned how he’s been thinking about signing up for Right to Love, and that’s how they persuaded him to fill out the digital application right there with them at the bar.

“Aw c’mon Rex!” Fives clapped Rex’s shoulder. “You should try it out. Anyone is lucky to have you!”

Fives took a large swig of beer, slammed it down, and pulled out his datapad.

“The application is easy. I don’t know how they do it, but they work some kind of magic. My girl is perfect, the woman of my dreams. I don’t think I would have ever found someone like her without them!” Fives shoved his datapad over to Rex, wiggling his eyebrows. “You don’t even have to go in person. Let us help you, vod!”

A few more sips of liquid courage later, Rex was pressing submit on his application while Fives and Echo cheered him on.

The rowdy night continued, and Rex quickly forgot all about it.

Rex didn’t remember he followed through until the next morning when a notification chimed on his terminal.

He woke from his deep sleep, still recovering from the night before, reading the message with blurry eyes and a headache.

Dear Rex,

Thank you for choosing Right to Love Matchmaking Service, where everyone deserves the right to companionship!

We have received your application and are processing your submission.

A matchmaking representative will be reaching out to you shortly. Have a wonderful day!

Rex’s brain almost short-circuited, the hazy memory of Fives and Echo helping him fill out the form coming back to him.

Those kriffing di’kuts!

Rex panicked momentarily, not sure if he was ready for this. But he thought of how happy his brothers were, and maybe it was finally time for him to step out of his comfort zone.

Rex commanded battalions alongside Jedi in life-or-death situations, and yet here he was, afraid to go on one singular date.

To Rex’s surprise, the whole process was easier than expected. The representative that reached out to him was nice, eased some of his worries, and answered all the questions he had. At the end of the conversation, the representative said they already had a match for him.

You.

To his even greater surprise, your first date went fine.

Fantastic, even.

Rex was an anxious mess leading up to meeting you in person, but you were kind, patient, compassionate, everything he would want in a partner.

It was almost like this matchmaking service did its job.

The next morning after your first date, you comm’d him asking to meet again, saying you had a good time.

Rex responded immediately with a resounding yes, hoping he wasn’t coming off as too desperate.

Your second date was even better than the first, learning more about one another, and you talked for hours.

You both hadn’t realized how late it had gotten and completely lost track of time. The restaurant you met at for lunch was now finishing up the dinner rush, you two the last ones in the eatery.

Rex walked you back to your apartment, and you hugged him as you said good night.

Maker, he couldn’t stop thinking about the hug. How warm and soft you felt against him. How he could smell the faint floral aroma of your shampoo. How your eyes shined as you whispered good night. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, Rex was completely smitten.

He was feeling the pressure now, waiting for you to meet him in front of the Coruscant Botanical Gardens where you planned to meet for your date.

Rex was low-key fretting about what came next. Another hug? Maybe holding your hand? A kiss?

Rex swallowed thickly.

He wanted to take things slow and didn’t want you to feel pressured into anything.

If a quick hug from you made him feel this good, he couldn’t even imagine what a kiss would be like.

He could feel his palms begin to sweat. Before he could spiral anymore, he heard his name.

You were walking toward him, a large smile on your face.

“Hey, Rex!” You waved, stepping up to him. You stopped, hesitating for a moment. Little did Rex know, you were having the same thoughts. Maker, he’s so handsome, I want to kiss him! I hope he wasn’t weirded out by the hug from a few nights ago…but he agreed to meet me again so I guess I didn’t scare him off…

“I’ve lived on Coruscant my whole life, and never been to the gardens. Funny how that happens sometimes.” You laughed.

Rex nodded stiffly.

“I’ve never been here, either. But I’m glad we can experience it for the first time together.”

You blushed at his words, Rex’s ears feeling hot at his admission.

You smiled again. “Me too, Rex. Shall we?”

The gardens were huge and seemingly endless, growing flora from hundreds of planets. Rex was able to point out some, recognizing them from the war. He was well-traveled because of it.

You enjoyed hearing him speak of his past, his brothers, and the sometimes downright insane feats he was involved with during the war.

Your conversation was always easy, like you’ve known one another for years. You couldn’t believe how perfect he was and how comfortable you felt around him.

Was it too good to be true, though?

You wandered for a while, keeping up conversation. You eventually sat on a bench in a massive greenhouse, admiring the lush greenery around you.

You were silent for a few moments, Rex wondering if this was his chance.

He wanted to kiss you. He was going to ask you. He was a soldier, no, a Captain, dammit! He should have the courage to do this!

Rex took in a breath, knowing he had to get over his anxiety and just take the leap. It was now or never.

You heard Rex’s inhale and you felt worry stir in your gut. Here we go, he’s going to tell me he doesn’t want to meet again. The classic “it has been really fun but…”

“I’ve…enjoyed our dates.” Rex turned to you. “And I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. So, thank you.”

You raised your eyebrows, meeting his gaze, surprised at his comment.

“Rex, you don’t have to thank me. I’ve been enjoying them too. I like you a lot.” You fidgeted a little, blushing. Maybe I didn’t screw things up!

You took your own breath, continuing.

“I didn’t know what to expect when I signed up for the dating service…I went on some bad dates a while back and was kind of fed up with it all, you know? But I’m glad I took the chance on you.”

Rex felt some confidence rush through his veins. “Really?” He asked.

“You’re easy to talk to, kind, a good listener. Not to mention a complete gentlemen. It’s hard to find that.” Your cheeks were hot at your own words, suddenly too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

“I like you a lot, too.” Rex’s voice was low, and you felt something brush against your hand on the bench, looking down, and saw Rex’s hand barely touching yours.

You moved your hand closer, and Rex took your hand in his. You thought your heart might leap straight out of your chest. His hand was calloused, yet warm. Comforting.

“You’re brilliant, remarkable. Not to mention the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. I…I’m so happy I met you.”

“Oh, Rex…you mean that?” You’ve never had a man say those words to you with such sincerity.

“More than anything in my life. Can…can I ask you something?” Rex was almost whispering. You nodded, eyes wide, wondering what he wanted to say next.

“Can I kiss you?” Rex was gazing right at you, his heart pounding in his ears.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, entwining your fingers with his. You couldn’t keep the grin from spreading on your face, and Rex saw how your features lit up like the Tattooine suns.

“Yes…Rex. I thought you’d never ask.”

Rex could see the colors of the bright flowers that surrounded you in your eyes as he leaned toward you.

Rex stopped centimeters from your lips, bringing his free hand to tenderly cup the side of your face. Your breath hitched at the gentle gesture, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss as he shyly brushed his lips against yours.

For Rex, the world melted away. Did he die and go to heaven? Because that’s how he felt when your hand moved to his shoulder, your unbelievably soft lips pressing back into his in a chaste kiss.

All of his anxieties dissipated, forgetting why was so nervous about this date in the first place, all he could think about was you and how lucky he was in this moment.

You pulled away after what could have been hours, your eyes hooded, looking up at him, smiling, realizing you were still holding hands.

“Rex…” The way his name fell from your lips, husky and almost sensual, ignited a fire in him. He wanted to hear it again and again.

Rex released his hand from yours, bringing it to your other cheek, cradling your head with both his hands now with such reverence you thought you might faint.

“Was…was that ok?” He murmured, wanting more, but didn’t want to push your boundaries in any way.

“Yes…kiss me again, Rex. Pleas-mph!” Rex quickly slid his mouth against yours, still cradling your head as your arms wrapped around him, your words cut short by his lips.

The kiss was deep, passionate, just like him. You sighed against his mouth, Rex using the opportunity to sweetly lick your bottom lip, politely asking for entrance.

You eagerly obliged, excited by his newfound confidence. His tongue entered your mouth, eliciting another satisfied sigh from you and a groan from Rex. Your body to trembled against his in fervor, feeling his muscles flex under your hands.

Your lungs began to burn, needing oxygen but not wanting this kiss to end.

Your mouths moved as one, gripping one another like you were the last two people in the Galaxy.

You let out a small whine as Rex pulled away, both your lips swollen from the intensity, your faces flushed and your bodies on fire.

“Wow…” was all you could mutter, as Rex’s hands fell from your flushed face. “That was…”

“Incredible?” He mumbled. You nodded in agreement, leaning into him. Rex wrapped his arm around you, still seated on the bench.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since we first met,” Rex admitted, his thumb slowly caressing your arm.

You were quickly turning into mush seeing this new, romantic side of Rex emerge.

“Me too.” You couldn’t help but giggle, giddy at what had just taken place.

Rex brought you into him, embracing you in a hug, silently thanking his brothers for making him take the plunge and sign up for this dating service.

“I think we’ve seen enough plants for one day. Want to come back to my place?” You asked, nuzzling against his chest. “We could make dinner and watch a Holomovie?”

“I’d love to,” Rex answered as you looked up at him. “I’d really love to.” Rex hasn’t been sure about much since the war ended, trying to find purpose and meaning in a new Galaxy.

He was sure about one thing now, and it was you.

Taglist: @pb-jellybeans @dukeoftheblackstar @king-chaos-world @523rdrebel @wanderer-six @the-cantina

#clone matchmaking au #501st Legion #tcw matchmaking au #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #captain rex x gen!reader #captain rex #the clone wars fanficfion #starrycatwrites #submission

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greenbergwrites · 6 months

Note

hello me again!! I absolutely loved seeing more of the possessive!stucky verse and if you could share the parts you have from them in modern day I would die of happiness 🫶🏽

Oh, I'm sorry, babe. I definitely saw your reblog/reply to that post and totally forgot to post the rest of what I have.

Here you go, the last of what I had written for the blood in my veins 'verse

It was going to be called learning to breathe again, which I thought was apt

----

If asked, Steve Rogers would say that the world ends on a dreary, snowy day in 1945 while he clings to the side of a train in the French Alps. It doesn’t begin again until 2014 when he stands under a bridge in Washington, D.C., surrounded by chaos and facing off with the world’s deadliest assassin.

It doesn’t matter that the world says, “who the hell is Bucky?”

It doesn’t matter that the world tries to kill him, just days later, on a helicarrier falling from the sky. It doesn’t matter that it’s his turn to fall or that he almost drowns.

The only thing that matters is his last sight before he goes into the water: familiar, beloved bright eyes staring at him in recognition.

Steve’s happy to die in that moment. It’s a good way to go if those eyes are the last thing he knows in this life.

The world - no, the entire fucking universe - pulls him out of the Potomac. Steve doesn’t remember it and there’s no proof of it but it’s irrelevant.

His name is Steve Rogers and if he’s in danger, Bucky Barnes is there.

That’s just the way things work.

“You don’t have to come,” Steve says, standing in a graveyard.

And he really doesn’t. Steve can do this on his own. He’s happy to do it on his own, if that’s what it takes. But Sam is one of the few people in this new world that he actually likes and he isn’t actually opposed to company.

“I know.” Sam smiles. “When do we start?”

They follow Bucky around the globe for months.

Most nights are spent in different beds, most weeks are spent in at least two different countries. Sometimes there’s a backtrack and sometimes they go to places Steve has never even heard of.

In all the time they spend chasing him, neither of them catch sight of a single hair on Bucky Barnes’ head.

With every dead end and every dropped lead, Sam frowns and glances at him nervously. No matter what this new century thinks of him, Steve isn’t clueless; he knows that Sam is looking for the cracks.

Sam, the good friend that he is, is waiting for Steve to fall apart. To breakdown with grief or frustration or whatever emotion is a normal response to a situation like this one. He’s waiting for anger and tears and despair and he doesn’t quite understand that none of that is coming. None of that will ever come.

Because Sam is a good friend but he’s only ever known Steve Rogers broken. He’s looking for cracks, has been since Steve woke up in the hospital after Project Insight fell and Bucky disappeared, because he doesn’t understand.

The cracks were already there and they’re finally starting to heal.

In the sixth month, Steve wakes up to a draft in his room. The window is open and the curtains billow in the breeze, bringing with it the scent of the sea. There’s no one in his room with him and everything appears untouched save for a scrap of paper taped to his shield.

It looks like it came from the bottom of a receipt and on the back of it are three words.

Go home, it says at the top in thick block letters. The word please is written underneath, smaller, like an afterthought.

The handwriting is both familiar and foreign and Steve smiles quietly to himself, caressing the note gently.

“So we’re just giving up?”

Surprisingly, Sam isn’t upset. He is, instead, bewildered and very, very curious. They’re sitting at a cafe in the airport, passing time until their flight boards. Steve bought the tickets before Sam ever opened his eyes that morning and despite what his friend might think, he feels happy with this decision.

It’s hard to explain why he’s smiling, so he hides it behind his coffee cup.

“It’s not giving up,” he says truthfully. “Bucky asked us to go.”

Sam tilts his head, considering Steve with appraising eyes.

“It’s just not what I expected from you,” he says after a moment. “You’ve been acting very til the ends of the earth, if you know what I mean. Didn’t think you’d let him call the shots.”

Steve snorts.

Bucky’s been calling the shots for as long as Steve’s needed him to.

They land in Washington, D.C. at night. The airport is still buzzing with activity but it’s quieter, different than it was the morning they left. Nobody glances at them twice as they loiter around baggage claim for their luggage and Steve is grateful; he’s too tired to put on his Captain America smile.

Just as the conveyor belt starts filling with new luggage, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Fishing it out, he sees a text from an unknown number.

Thank you.

Warmth starts in his chest and spreads outwards, relaxing him just a little. He still feels tension throbbing inside of him, a cord that’s been stretching since 1945, but in that moment, it isn’t so unbearable.

Steve doesn’t bother replying - Bucky probably tossed the burner phone as soon as he pressed send - but he doesn’t delete the text message, either. Instead, he saves it to his phone, where he can look at it any time he needs.

“What is it?” Sam asks, making Steve look away from the words. He realizes he’s been staring at his phone for several minutes now; Sam’s already gotten their bags.

“Nothing,” Steve says with a smile. He pockets his phone again. “Just happy to be home.”

Life settles into a routine again. He and Sam run in the mornings, have breakfast in a cafe somewhere between Sam’s apartment and his. When the Avengers need him, which isn’t often, he helps out and when the remnants of SHIELD need him, which is more often, he helps them, too.

Natasha would be proud of how well he’s taking to the ways of her trade. He and Sam are soldiers first, good in a fight, but they learn the art of blending in; moving through a crowd without anyone ever remembering they were there. It’s new, this tactic. A freshly-bought pair of shoes that he hasn’t broken in yet but once he does, he has no doubt of the comfort they’ll provide.

It definitely makes their jobs easier, at any rate.

There’s not a lot of big battles for Captain America anymore but there are more covert operations. Steve spends most of his time after coming back helping ex-SHIELD agents move through the city without being caught. There’s one last base in DC but its stretched too thin as is with half its agents gone and the other half focused on rebuilding. Besides, not everyone wants to stay with the organization that housed HYDRA for so many years.

So Steve does what he can. He sets up new safehouses, stashes money and weaponry all around the city, sets up a network of help for anyone who needs it.

It isn’t just their own government hunting down SHIELD and no matter what he thought when it still stood, he won’t leave these people to fend for themselves. Not when it’s partially his fault that they’re on the run at all.

He tells a SHIELD agent this when she asks and her eyes widen.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says and then blushes, like she just remembered who she was talking to. “You’re the reason we’re alive at all, Captain. A lot more people would be dead if it weren’t for you.”

It’s the Captain rather than the reassurance that Steve focuses on. His smile, when it comes, feels brittle. He doesn’t bother responding and instead, hands her a slip of paper.

“Only stay there for a night,” he says. “Burn the paper when you’ve memorized the address. Make sure to dye your hair and put on different clothes.”

She nods and then takes him by surprise, hugging him fiercely for just a moment before pulling back. Her face is an even darker shade of red but she ignores her own embarrassment, straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders. When she meets his gaze again, she is every bit the SHIELD agent instead of the scared civilian that had been in her place moments before.

“Thank you,” she says. “For everything.”

Steve shakes his head. “No need for thanks,” he tells her. It feels mechanical, wrong, when he puts a hand on her shoulder. He’s still not used to touching people or having them touch him. “You’ll be fine, Agent. Just keep moving.”

She smiles at him and then disappears into the crowd.

A month after they abandon the search for Bucky, the gifts start arriving. Trinkets from France, Germany, Italy, Russia. There’s at least one every month and always from a place they know has been hit by the Winter Soldier.

“This is weird, you know that, right?” Sam says one morning. He turns the tiny Eiffel Tower over in his hands as Steve flips through a brochure for the Louvre. “He’s not even trying to hide the fact that those hits are him.”

Steve shrugs. “Why should he? He’s hunting down HYDRA, same as the rest of us.”

He plucks the Tower from Sam’s hands, placing it and the brochure on a shelf with previous ones. Bucky’s gifts hold a place of honor in Steve’s home, proudly displayed in the living room where Steve can see them any time he wants to. Sam doesn’t know it but the scrap of receipt holding Bucky’s first note is tucked under the music box from Russia. When he’s alone, Steve pulls it out sometimes just to look at it; just to see that handwriting again.

“Steve,” Sam says. “He’s a mentally fragile assassin that just spent the last seventy years being tortured, brainwashed, and forced to kill for a scary secret cult. He needs time to heal, not more death.”

Sighing, Steve turns to face his friend. “Did you ever think that maybe it’s helping him heal?” He asks.

“Yes, I have, actually.” Sam shakes his head. “But that’s not a healthy coping mechanism.”

Steve shrugs. “Lotta things in this world aren’t healthy, Sam,” he says. “Doesn’t mean people stop doing them.”

Bucky’s fifth gift and the first for that month - three months after Steve came home - is an expensive set of drawing pencils and three sketchbooks. It’s also the first gift to include a note.

I remembered this, it says. No signature.

Trembling fingers run lightly first over the note and then the gifts themselves. Steve lets a harsh breath, his eyes burning and his chest aching. He’s glad that he’s alone for this gift, that no one is there to see him shaking apart like this.

He opens the pencils slowly, reverently, and when he holds one in his hand, he feels a little more tension leak out of him. The rest of the day is spent ignoring the world in favor of drawing. His first few pictures are shaky, both from his own emotion and his unpracticed hand, but the more time he spends buried in his sketchbook - his sketchbook - the smoother things become.

His hand is cramping by the time the sun sets and his latest drawing has tear stains ruining his perfect lines and he feels, for the first time since 1945, like Steven Grant Rogers.

“I didn’t know you were an artist,” Sam says when he sees the art littering Steve’s living room.

Steve snorts. “Just another thing the history books left out,” he replies, bitter.

That pitying expression is back on Sam’s face and Steve decides to ignore it in favor of getting the lines of Bucky’s face just right.

The gifts continue to come and Steve’s shelf becomes an entire bookcase of trinkets. The Avengers are called on to save the world from an artificial intelligence named Ultron. They barely make it out alive but somehow, they all do make it.

Natasha watches him closely after the battle. They’re all undressing in Stark’s version of a team locker room, unconcerned with things like nudity when they’re all too busy minding cuts and bruises.

“What is it?” Steve asks her when he’s tired of the stares.

“You’re different,” she says. Her mouth softens into her version of a smile. “You don’t try to make the sacrifice play anymore.”

She doesn’t ask, so he doesn’t tell her that he finally has something to live for again. He suspects she already knows, anyways.

It’s been almost a month since the last trinket when one of their safe houses is compromised. He and Sam arrive on the scene too late but miraculously, no one is dead. The two ex-agents that were staying there are sitting on the porch, wide-eyed and shaking. Sam kneels down in front of them with kind eyes and a soothing voice. Steve goes inside to check out the house.

Broken furniture litters multiple rooms, one of the beds is upended, the toilet in the guest bathroom is split in two. One hell of a fight took place and it seemed to span the entire house. In the living room, there are bodies piled one on top of the other; unconscious not dead. The only thing surprising about this is that not all of them are part of the strike team that hit the house.

“He was here,” Sam says from behind him. He comes to stand shoulder to shoulder with Steve, staring down at the bodies. “The agents said he’s the only reason they’re still alive.”

Steve smirks at him. “Still think it’s an unhealthy coping mechanism?”

“Yes.” When Steve looks at him, Sam holds up his hands. “Hey, man, I’m the first to admit that I’m grateful. But this still isn’t healthy.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve gestures at the two plain-clothed people. “Did they say where these two came from?”

“Yeah, Barnes left ‘em.” He gives Steve an unimpressed look. “Said something about it being a present.”

Oh.

Steve smiles, looking away from Sam’s piercing gaze. His trinkets are getting bigger.

It takes a few hours to get the HYDRA operatives secured in the DC base and to elicit a promise for whatever information is gleaned from them. He doesn’t know if he trusts the agent who does the promising but Steve will come back if he needs to. At least two of the prisoners were specifically meant for him, anyways.

When he gets home, Steve finds a pile of crushed metal and wiring piled onto his coffee table. It takes him a moment to realize what they are but when he does, he smiles; they’re bugs from all around his apartment.

Next to them is a note that reads: out with the old.

The words are very specific. Bucky doesn’t do anything uncalculated and Steve is sure that’s truer now than it was during the war. He begins to search the apartment but doesn’t have to get very far before he’s proved right. On the bottom of the Eiffel Tower statue, there’s a listening device.

And where there’s one, there’s dozens.

Steve puts the statue back without removing the bug and relaxes a tiny, tiny bit more.

“In with the new,” he says quietly, warmed by the thought that Bucky will hear him.

#moodymelanist #greenberg replies #my fics #the blood in my veins

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youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms · 1 year

Text

Oh My God, You Did Not!

Words: 1095

Warnings: angst, reference to reader and Spencer having previous relationship, me almost writing smut but stopping cause...year, probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

Criminal Minds Masterlist Main Masterlist Join my Taglist

Just a reminder in case none of you read my fic "I Would Tell Them If I Could, But I Can't" Reader and Spencer had a relationship for about 2 years before they broke up and then they just kinda slept with one another after bad cases which lead to the reader getting pregnant. They kinda have a co-parenting lifestyle where reader is the “lead” parent and Spencer get’s child (Avery) on weekends and some weekday

Takes place around Season 13 Episode 3 (episode where Matt keeps his wife from going into work on time...which is sorta how I got inspired for it)

I literally forgot about this…it’s been sitting in my drafts for about 1-2 weeks lol

This was originally written for my OC Abby (which a longer version will be posted on my other account @imnotobsessedwfictionalchracters later)

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

Y/N opened her door and was surprised to see Spencer there. She gave him a soft smile but before she could say anything, he took a single stride in and grabbed her face in his, kissing her harshly. She hardly had time to breathe as he kissed her. When he finally pulled away, she breathed heavily and held her hands on his chest.

“I want you. I don’t care that it’s against the rules. I don’t care that we could get kicked off of the team or out of the FBI as a whole, I just fucking need you.”

“Spence, Avery is--”

“Asleep. I think I still know her sleep schedule. It’s past 3 am. She’s asleep Abs.”

“But you just--”

“I know, I know. I worked to get reinstated, but I don’t care.” He brushed some of her hair out of her face, “If I get kicked out because I love you, then I don’t care.”

She gripped his shirt and this time she was the one who pulled him into the kiss. This time his hands went down to feel under her shirt, she made a noise that was swallowed by the kiss. She moved backwards and heard him kick the door shut. Her hands fumbled as she walked backwards and tried to unbutton his shirt. They stumbled a few times but eventually made it to her bedroom where he kicked the door shut there as well.

She felt her knees reach the back of her bed and she allowed herself to fall back on it, pulling him down with her. She smiled as she finally succeeded in unbuttoning his shirt and he shrugged it off and she also pulled her top over her head. Spencer attached his lips to hers again and she felt his hands fall down to the buttons of her pants.

She pulled away for a moment, “We won’t get in trouble if no one finds out. N-no one has found out about,” She stopped mid sentence as she moaned after he bit and sucked her chest. “About Avery. No one has to know anything.”

“I’d like that. Keeping you as my dirty little secret.”

She nodded, “I do too.” She glanced over at the door, “Is it locked?” He nodded his head vigorously as he pulled her pants down. That was the last confirmation that she was fine with this.

----

Y/N groaned as she woke up. Her whole body was sore. She felt the spot next to her and was surprised to see that Spencer wasn’t there. But that was when she clocked just how much light was coming through the window. She shot up, which she regretted but pretended it was alright and grabbed her phone. Letting out a string of curses as she realized the time. It was 30 minutes until she was supposed to be at work and it took her that much time to get there, without traffic.

She unlocked her phone after she saw the text from Spencer that was sent to her around 2 hours ago. When she usually would wake up and get Avery ready for school.

“I’m getting Avery ready and taking her to school. You needed

the sleep you were getting and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I’ll see you when you get in the office later.”

She tossed her phone on her bed as she stumbled over to her bathroom. She turned the faucet on and tossed the washcloth in and her toothbrush. She quickly brushed her teeth and spit the excess out in her other sink. She tossed her toothbrush in her holder and wiped her mouth before she grabbed the washcloth and soap and washed her face. She moved as fast as she could while putting on her makeup, thankful that it was just second nature for her at this point. She grabbed a clip and quickly brushed her hair before tossing it up.

Running into the closet, she grabbed a set of clothes and got ready as quickly as she could. She grabbed her phone and bag as she was slipping her shoes on. She smiled as she ran into her kitchen and realized he had made coffee, happy that she had a new pot that kept it warm for a few hours. She grabbed her travel mug and made her cup before grabbing her keys and dashing out the door to her car.

----

Y/N wasn’t even sure if she had locked her apartment as she stood in the elevator. She was 50 minutes late. She knew that Luke and JJ would give her shit for it. And once Emily would be done getting mad at her for being so late, she would too.

She ran into the office and tossed her bag on her desk as she ran to the conference room. Spencer had already texted her that they were meeting about a new case. She nearly tripped and fell into the room from running.

“Sorry! Sorry! I know I’m late! My alarms must have not gone off. I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright Y/L/N. Just grab a file and get your go bag, we’ll get you up to speed on the jet.” Y/N nodded as she breathlessly grabbed a file, refusing to give a glance to Spencer. She walked out of the room and back to her desk in order to grab her go bag.

“So, why were you late?”

She looked up at JJ, “I told you, alarms.”

“Nah, I don’t believe it. You have a...look on you. Something I haven’t seen in...around 5 years.”

Y/N looked down bashfully, “Shut up.”

“Oh. My. God. You did not!”

She grabbed her go bag from underneath her desk and just shrugged. She saw JJ lean forward on her desk and look at her intently. “Spence told me he got to take Avery to school. Won’t deny, I found it weird, but I just thought you had something to run and do this morning. When I asked Emily she said you hadn’t mentioned needing the ability to come in late. And so when you do, you’re flustered. Just like you were back before Avery was born. Spence looked less stressed and tense and so do you.” JJ gave her a smirk, “Or maybe I’m just delusional again.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Even if what you were suggesting was true, I cannot say a thing as we are on the clock.”

JJ smiled and leaned back, “Guess I’ll just have to wait for the next time our kids hang out.”

Y/N smiled, “I guess you will.”

#spencer #reid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal #minds #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #x reader #imagine

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jellyjays · 12 days

Text

scar wuwa headcanons masterpost

it happened chat

so. let's talk scar wuwa.

first of all let me say that i have been able to play only his first interaction-- where he does that story about the lambs and the village after kidnapping your beautiful platonic wife. this is all based on all the possible info i could find through story and dialogue publicly available online. :3

everything (and it's a lot) under the cut v

we'll start with

1-- PHYSICAL APPEARANCE/FEATURES

this is the one i currently have the most fleshed out for.

[ID: on the left, there's a traced sketch of a wuwa screenshot of scar. it's been edited heavily and stylized to fit the attributes listed to the right of it. the list starts with a heading of MOST, under which is listed hooded eyes, cowlicks, lazy scar eye (and in parenthises, prosthetic with a question mark), black lipstick, smile lines, lip cleft, dimples, and nerve damage/unresponsive tissue. then under that is a heading that says "Less", under which is listed ponytail..., lashes, stretched piercing holes, and brow shape. END ID]

i stand by this list draft, with the only exception being the hooded eyes. in practice, the eyes i draw him with have monolids. i would add a few things to the list now-- we'll get to that. i'll start by explaining each of these choices, in detail.

EYES

this one... i just felt it in my soul. there's nothing more to it than that. but in practice, when drawing him, i want to mention that i do try to make it stay somewhat loyal to his eye shape from in-game model.

[ID: a low-quality screenshot with two eye drawings. the one on the left says "traced" above it, and is more stylized than the one on the right. it has a slight fold on the inner upper lid, and is more slanted up at the outer corner than the eye on the right. the eye on the right says "mine" above it, and the eye has a monolid with a clear fold. it is less pointed and slim, and has stylized eyelashes on the lower lid. END ID]

demonstrated above-- i wanted to keep that kind of shape that felt correct for him, which softening it up. his in-game model eyes are almost predatory, which is interesting, considering his story.

COWLICKS

so if you look at his model hair, it's very Anime Boy Spiky, which is silly, but i just kept getting draw back to the shapes of it, and... i just think it's really silly. look at him.

[ID: screenshot of scar from wuwa. he's grinning lopsidedly, facing the camera. his hair is flat and hangs straight down in the front, save for large hair vents. his hair is very spiky in the back, sticking out away from the head, in contrast to the hair in the front. END ID]

(side note, this specific fucking screenshot of him appears when i close my eyes now. i have it on 7 different fucking layers of my CSP scar bible file. he'll be there when i sleep tonight.)

LOOK AT HIM. i know it's typical anime boy gravity defying hair but. to me, that is so so silly. so in my headcanons, i kept the energy in that he has some cowlicks in the front of his hair that he CANNOT for the life of him style away, that curl the hair right out to the sides in a way that looks ridiculous when his hair is too long or too short-- he had to learn to work with it. it's sosososo silly to me AGRGRHRGRH

[ID: the same traced sketch from earlier in the post, but this time, it's been slightly edited. highlighted in red are the cowlicks, that go out and up, sticking out noticably in the silhouette of his hair. the cowlick on the left wasn't in the traced sketch from earlier, i had to edit it in. END ID]

yeah i had to edit the left cowlick in cuz i forgot it... still. illustrated by above, his cowlicks are very noticable and he has to work to make them work with the rest of his hair, which is very wavy. they still look a little ridiculous sometimes.

BONUS about his hair:

if you look at him and his hair... you give that shit 2 or 3 weeks, maybe 4, and that is a full-blown bonafide mullet. i love that so dearly. i think he just Has a mullet, but he wears it in a scraggly-ass little ponytail. to keep it off his neck.

[ID: drawing of scar wuwa, with the cowlicks mentioned above. he's looking down and to the side with a big grin, which means his tiny ponytail is now visible. it's very small, and the red hair and white hair from different parts of his head mix, making it dual-colored. END ID]

this sketch kinda illustrates it, and i think it's perfect.

LAZY SCAR EYE

we're at the point now where i've realized this is going to be a doozy of a post. yay. ANYWAY.

with this, i'm going off the logic that scar has not one but TWO scars over his right eye. the first looks like a nasty burn, and covers a large portion of that side of his face, and the second could be a lot of things, but the most important thing is that it goes STRAIGHT through his eye.

it's highly likely that that eye is no longer responsive or functional. so i draw it as a lazy eye that never follows the same direction as his good eye, usually resting in a forward position.

[ID: a drawing of scar wuwa. he's tilting his head to the left, pouting and squinting in thought as he bites his cheek, rubbing his chin in thought. his good eye looks at something closely, very observational. his other eye is lolling to the side, slightly askew from forward. END ID]

here you can see it pretty well, i think. i think it just adds a little bit to his character and look,,, yeah

BLACK LIPSTICK

i liked it. i thought it was very him. he's a diva boything he needs to slay

you can see it in all these drawings, but for those using ids/screenreaders, he has black lipstick on only his top lip, kinda reminiscent of shego.

SMILE LINES/DIMPLES

i'm grouping these together.

anyway, scar is a guy who smiles a LOT. i mean we've only gotten to see him while he's in his element at work, but he SMILES. and yes when we see it it's frequently somewhat crazed and evil-looking, but i think the smiles are a HIM thing. i think he's a smiley guy. i think he's got smile lines and dimples that accentuate his smile a lot. (this comes back into play when i talk about his expressions later.)

LIP CLEFT

this is mostly me headcanoning that the scar goes through his eye AND the left of his mouth because yeah, and it takes a chunk of flesh out of his bottom lip that's very noticable. it's entirely a personal headcanon cuz Yeah

(can you tell i'm being speedy and using less images now cuz i wanna get through all of this before i go to bed?)

NERVE DAMAGE/UNRESPONSIVE TISSUE

this is essentially a personal headcanon that he has nerve damage (and associated chronic pain, but that's for later) from the burn (?) scar on the left of his face, and as a result, that side of his face doesn't emote nearly as much-- somewhat reminiscent of a stroke victim. whenever i draw him, the left of his face is somewhat slack-- all his smiles are lopsided, and whenever his face scrunches in any way, it's uneven.

STRETCHED PIERCING HOLES

he's got big ass gold earrings he wears ALL THE TIME ALL DAY EVERY DAY. no way he wears those heavy things regularly and his piercing holes aren't even a little stretched out. i think he could comfortably fit a 6-8G plug in those holes. (truthfully that's one of my favorite things to draw about him.... idk why)

EXTRAS NOW!!

other stuff:

i think he's got fangs and a tooth gap. sharp teefs. yeah.

god i'm getting tired writing this so remind me to continue with part 2 of 4 tomorrow morning. thank you for reading

#its almost 1 am im gonna cry im so tired i shouldn't've done this but the brainrot consumes #leon is wuwa posting #guys please tell me if the images are id'd okay i tried my best but im so fatigued and also sick #i will fix them however needed #anyway can you guys tell i like scar #can you tell #guys #scar wuwa #wuwa #wuthering waves #wuthering waves scar #wuwa headcanons #i like him. a lot. scar......#boything #sighhh im gonna actually post now #bye tag readers. if you even exist

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matthewmurdockswife · 8 months

Note

best friends brother with matt sturniolo?

Best friends brother x matt sturniolo

It was actually chris who had introduced me to matt we’ve now been together for almost two years and I agreed to let the fans in on more of our life so we decided to do a Q&A video

Nick introduced the video and after a few minutes of us messing around the questions started “Ok so someone asked if you were to get married would matt move out from the triplet house” chris recited the question from his phone “ No” was all matt had awnsered “ I’m pretty sure if we got married I’d just move in with them” I said as I watched matt “ I think y/n has grown as attached to us at matt is” nick jokes but we all knew it wasnt a joke I loved being here And I Loved matt and his brothers were my support system I cant imagine what I would do without them they’re always there for me. “Okay next question how did you guys meet?” Nick reads off of his phone“I started this” chris sighs in a mockingly upset tone and i punch him in the arm jokingly “ Thats true I was best friends with chris long before I met nick and matt I knew I liked matt about 3 months after we met when we started hanging out one on one and I got to really know matt as a person and the rest became history” I smiled holding matts hand knowing I was so lucky to have met him and be with such an amazing, giving and loving person“and next week we hit our 2 year anniversary” matt smiles at me “Gross” nick says watching in disgust I move out of the way as the triplets do their outro and sit on the couch chris and matt comes and joins me while nick sits in the chair.“ two years is wild” chris says trying to initiate conversation “ crazy to think that ive known you longer than that” I laugh at chris

“ you’re old” I joke him he mock pouts and pretends to be angry while I look over at the love of my life next to me kicking his brother, my best friend in the leg I dont know how fate placed me into this but im so grateful to able to be with people as amazing as the three boys that sit in front of me today laughing and joking around like ive been with them their whole lives

Im even more grateful for matt the beautiful boy who sits next to me holding my hand and hugs me whenever I feel like the world is falling apart, matt knows how to fix me, he knows me.

a/n yall this shit from the VAULT shes been in my drafts forever lmao sorry i forgot abt them

@stvrni0lo @dwntwn-strnlo @fenoy7

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #reading #lets trip merch #versestour

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pajarinwrites · 1 month

Text

The Perfect Set 02

➳ fem!reader x Jacob

➳ wc: 4.9k

➳ TAGS: volleyball player!jacob, college!au, best friends to lovers

➳ WARNINGS: drinking, cob busts his lip and has to get it stitches, piv sex, cunnilingus (it's all not very elaborately described tho

➳ AN: i initially meant to only continue posting this series once i have all rough drafts finished but then i got too impatient and here we are, also i have been obsessed with jacob again, i'll get back to continuing chapter four now (i'm in a writers block with this story TT)

prev | next | series masterlist | general masterlist

Jacob watched you from the audience, the way your eyes were so zeroed in on your opponent, following their words with every ounce of your attention. Jacob knows the other girl slipped up when he sees the minuscule twitch of the corner of your mouth. I’ve got you, now. It seems to say. He’s seen it countless times in your practice debates, and in quite a few of your rows with him, too. Sure enough, your turn for a reply comes around and you take your opponents entire argument apart with a few well placed jabs. She gets increasingly hectic and starts stumbling over her words. Jacob almost feels bad for her. But when the jury leaves to discuss your debate any empathy evaporates. Your face lights up as you turn around to your team mates, who all give you thumbs up. He’s quite sure everyone in the hall can tell that you had the upper hand in that debate.

Once the results are officially announced and you and your team have advanced to the next round, you sprint over to the seats. He catches you in his arms and whirls you around.

“I told you, you could do it!”

“I could have been more concise in my second argument, and I totally forgot to respond to one of the aspects she mentioned, but overall it went quite well.” Your smile is blinding and he’s having a deja vu.

“You should take more time to celebrate your achievements.” You stick your tongue out at him but before he can reiterate how proud he is of you, a familiar pair of arms wraps around you from behind.

“You did so great,” Juyeon whispers into your ear, kissing your cheek. You blush furiously and Jacob feels sick.

“You wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference,” you tease him. And momentarily, the weird feeling alleviates. Even if you’ve gone on a few dates with Juyeon, Jacob is the one who always makes time for you, who goes to your debate team meetings, does research with you until late at night. He’s the one that is always there for you, that has always been there for you since you were children. So it’s only natural that your open affection with Juyeon would trigger an adverse reaction. He knew his team mate was a good guy, but he wasn’t sure if he was good enough for you. And on top of that, “could you guys not make out right in front of me? I’m gonna have to throw up.” You chuckle, detaching yourself from Juyeon in favour of simply holding his hand.

“It was just a peck, hyung.” Juyeon says, as if the exact manner of physical affection that you display makes any difference to Jacob.

“Either way, it’s weird because we’re like siblings.”

You look at him quizzically before shrugging. “No problem, we’ll just go over to that dark corner over there and continue. See you later!” You wave, pulling Juyeon along with you, while Jacob is left behind with the exceedingly unwelcome picture of you and Juyeon making out in a dark corner seared into his brain.

You seem to generally be busy with his teammate because Jacob sees less and less of you over the next few weeks. Juyeon also shows up increasingly late for training, often sporting suspicious marks on his neck or swollen lips. Upon the snickering glances of the younger teammates, he only grins and pulls his neckline a little lower. As much as Jacob wants you to be happy, Juyeon’s faltering morale starts to affect the whole team soon, dragging everyone’s motivation and teamwork down. After two weeks, Jacob has enough and asks Juyeon to stay behind after practice.

The taller man slinks up to him with all the time in the world and a self-satisfied expression on his face. “What’s up, cap?” He asks.

Jacob decides not to beat around the bush, “I’ve noticed over the past training sessions that you seem kind of distracted and demotivated…” Juyeon shows no reaction, forcing Jacob to continue explaining himself. “I’m definitely not the only one who noticed, and at this point your spotty attendance and lack of commitment are starting to affect the whole team.”

“But, hyung, I’m only ever a few minutes late. How am I at fault if everyone starts slacking off?”

“We’re a team, Juyeon. Everyone is responsible for everyone, to a certain degree. On top of that, you’re one of the older members, so the freshmen look up to you for guidance and motivation. Your attitude is having a negative effect on the whole team, and I need you to start taking this seriously again.”

“Or what?” Juyeon asks, his eyes boring into Jacob’s in a way that makes him squirm. He’s always hated confrontation, the fact that Juyeon is one of his close friends isn’t making this easier in the slightest. “Or nothing. This isn’t a threat, Juyeon.”

“So you’re asking me nicely? As your friend?”

“No, I’m telling you nicely. As your captain.”

“That still sounds kinda threatening, though.”

“I can’t help that. We’ve got a big roster of players and if you’re attitude and behaviour affect our results negatively, you’ll be swapped out. It’s as simply as that. I’m not doing this to antagonise you.”

“‘Course you aren’t.” Juyeon replies, his eyes fiery. He snatches his satchel off the bench and stares down at Jacob, who feels increasingly lost. “So you’re going to put me on the bench just because I’m fooling around with your girl.”

That’s an odd way to phrase it, Jacob thinks. It’s also a way that makes it sound way worse than it is.

“She’s not my girl, Juyeon. She is her own person, and this has nothing to do with her. Except that she seems to distract you from what’s really important.”

“No offence, captain. But if you think volleyball is what’s really important, you’ve never gotten your dick properly wet.” Jacob feels like he’s been slapped in the face and he doesn’t know if it’s his hurt pride or the vulgarity of the statement or the fact that he feels like he needs to defend your honour once more. He stares at Juyeon, taking rapid but deep breaths and doing his most to not loose grip of his amicable disposition.

“I don’t think she’d appreciate knowing that that’s all she means to you.”

“What’s it to you? Whatever we do with each other is none of your business. You just said she’s her own person.”

“It is absolutely my business if you’re hurting her.”

“Fuck you! You really think I’d ever do that?”

“Well if you can’t even—“

“Stop!” Juyeon suddenly screams. He’s fuming; Jacob isn’t even sure what he did to incur his friend’s sudden wrath, “don’t pretend like you know what we need from our relationship! If you don’t trust me, ask her whether she’s happy or not.”

Jacob presses his lips together, meeting Juyeon’s burning gaze with the same intensity.

“This isn’t even about her,” he reiterates because it feels like his grip on this conversation is slipping, “this is about volleyball.”

“I have a feeling that this is exactly about her.”

“That’s probably because you need to get your head and your priorities on straight.”

“Oh, sorry, that the relationships with the people I care about are more important to me than some stupid sport. Most importantly herright now.”

“We’ve got different priorities, then.” Jacob says coldly.

“Clearly.” Juyeon replies in a similar tone, “I quit.”

That takes Jacob by surprise, despite everything, and the words only register once Juyeon has crossed the gym and slammed the door shut behind himself.

Jacob stands, staring at the door in disbelief. Inside he’s still fuming, and it’s a feeling he doesn’t truly appreciate. He tried his hardest to keep the conversation civil but he still seems to have triggered Juyeon. Jacob decides to give him space to cool down, knowing that he himself needs it before he can face his friend again. In the face of overflowing emotions, Jacob always takes the same path. So he decides to do what he always does when he is feeling upset. It doesn’t hurt to get some more targeted practice in anyway, he’d been meaning to dedicate more time to his jump serves anyway.

He rolls the ball cage over the end of the court and starts practicing. Some serves, he imagines the ball is Juyeon’s face smirking at him. But most of them he’s looking at himself and feeling increasingly bad. Jacob is so engrossed in his serves that he doesn’t notice the door to the gym open and close again. Neither does he realise that you’ve sat down on the benches next to the court, watching him smash ball after ball precisely into the corners of the opponents half of the field. You watch as your best friend over-exerts himself, well aware that sometimes this is what he needs to turn off the incessant stream of doubt that runs his mind some days.

The first time you found him like this was the first week of your second year of middle school. He had just found out that he wouldn’t make the regular line-up for games this year either. Despite him sacrificing the better part of his free time to volleyball and never missing a practice, no matter how sick he was, his coach chose a different line-up. Of course Jacob didn’t say anything, ever the pacifist. And without his soothing reassurance, you would’ve stormed up to the coach in his stead to demand fairness.

“Nepotism,” you had huffed as you sat on the bench, watching your best friend try jump serve after jump serve. He was breathing heavily, his bangs sticking to his forehead at that point.

“Maybe you should take a break?” You suggested, earning yourself nothing but a burning glare. “My serves still suck. I can’t even land them in the court half the time,” he gritted as if that was enough explanation, and you had learned to keep your mouth shut. Eventually he would tire himself out, so much that he could barely lift his arms. Then he’d start collecting the countless volleyballs he had shot across the gym in hours before. You’d help him, wordlessly. And, finally, he would crash down on the floor in exhaustion, looking up at you with a sheepish grin, as if he should be apologising to you for burning himself out like that.

So today you sit there again, waiting for Jacob to tire himself out, as you’ve done countless times. He’s still going strong after half an hour and you’re starting to worry when he suddenly flops down onto the floor.

“Spent?” You call over. His head lolls back up, staring over at you in surprise. He just looks for a few seconds as if he hasn’t yet decided on an appropriate reaction. Slowly, a smile breaks out on his lips. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, which is the first time for him to ever say this. So it’s little surprising that it takes you aback so.

“Sure, whatever. You’re crazy,” you say, getting up and walking over. You hand Jacob his water bottle and start collecting balls all on your own. He starts helping you after a few minutes and together you clean and lock up. He takes a hurried shower, trying not to let you wait too long. The two of you are halfway to your dorms when you finally dare to breach the subject.

“So… do you wanna talk about what happened with Juyeon?” The frown on Jacob’s face manifests immediately.

“Not… really.”

“Ok, no problem. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Did you talk to him about it?” His voice is quiet, nearly a whisper, so low that you can’t hear him over the sound of distant traffic. Only the campus’ eerie silence allows you to hear him. You haven’t heard him this insecure since the infamous middle school roster disaster. He’s staring at his feet while walking, as if he’s expecting to find a treasure on the floor any moment now.

“I mean, he talked to me about it… But don’t worry, I’m impartial.”

Jacob huffs. “I’ve never known a person to be less impartial than you,” he smiles.

You stew in silence until you make it to your dorm and you can’t quite decide whether or not it’s uncomfortable. “Do you wanna come in for a second? I still have that chai mix you love.” Your best friend lifts his eyes and there’s still a little hope in them.

“Sure,” he says, much to your relief. As he follows you up, you can hear from the heavy fall of his footsteps that the training exhausted him more than he likes to admit. Hence, it’s no surprise that you tell him to get comfy on your bed while you prepare the chai with the electric kettle in your room.

You hand him one mug, the one with the beagle saying ‘good morning’ on it, his favourite. When you sit down next to him, you decide not to prompt Jacob, instead giving him a chance to start talking in his own time. It takes few minutes and some sips from your drink before he takes a deep breath and looks at you.

“What did Juyeon say?”

“The usual.. you’ve got a stick up your ass when it comes to volleyball, you should care more about your friends, etcetera…

“Oh, he also asked me if I was happy. Which was… a little weird, just ‘cuz it was unprompted, you know?” Jacob looks up at you in surprise. “Are you?” He asks, “Happy, I mean.”

“Sure,” you say, unsure of where this is supposed to be heading, “I mean university is stressful especially with the exams coming up in a couple months. But other than that I’m pretty happy… Can’t say the same for you or Juyeon, though.”

Jacob nods sagely. “It’s just been a little rough between us lately and I don’t even fully know why.”

“Maybe it’s just tensions with the quarter finals coming up?”

“That’s probably a contributing factor.”

“All the more reason to make up with him,” you whisper, not sure if you’re breaching the subject too soon. But judging by Jacob’s heavy sigh, this is the pivotal point that his brain had been circling the whole time too.

“I know you’re right but… he said a few things. And I know, from experience, that he needs a little time to calm down.”

“He seemed just as confused as you, to be honest. Maybe give him a few days before talking to him. And maybe get him back on the team? How cool would it be if our university actually won this year’s volleyball championships?” Jacob laughs. Finally, you think, relieved at the way his face finally lights up, even if it’s just for a split second.

“So your motivations are entirely selfless?”

You rest on hand on your heart, “of course! They always are. I am a good samaritan.” Jacob smirks, falling back into silence, except this time you’re sure it’s a comfortable one.

What he doesn’t want to tell you is that he still feels like his argument with Juyeon was only marginally about volleyball. He was worried his friend might have told you that he thinks volleyball is more important to himself than you. (Which isn’t even true, of course. He’s pretty certain you’d know either way that you have always been and will always be his trop priority.) But he is relieved that Juyeon was right, you are happy in whatever situationship you have going on with him. And the mixed feelings he had about that were only due to his momentarily strained relationship with Juyeon. As long as he knows that Juyeon’s treating you right, he has no reason to not be delighted about you being in a loving relationship. He worries. That’s all.

After twenty years of friendship, you can easily spot when Jacob goes into a funk. So when he stares absentmindedly into his empty cup of chai, you know he hasn’t entirely gotten over his dismay about the fight. On top of that, you can see his eyelids dropping in real time. For not entirely unselfish reasons (it’s been ages since the two of you had a sleepover), you offer him to crash at your place tonight. He accepts, with a soft, sleepy smile that warms your heart.

You give him a spare toothbrush and oversized t-shirt so he can comfortably squeeze into your twin-size dorm bed beside you. You wrap one arm around him and he mirrors you while pulling you close. He’s so close you can make out the faint scar on his upper lip. It takes more than a little effort to push the memories of that night out of your head. Especially since it’s the first time he’s sleeping over since that accident.

“Don’t fall out,” you whisper.

“I’ll try my very best.” He whispers back, “good night, sunshine.”

“We have to go!” You squeal, “it’s team-bonding!”

Jacob rolls his eyes at you, “you’re just happy to be invited to a big house party within your first month of uni.”

“So what? Something can be more than one thing at once.”

“Yeah, except this time it’s not.”

You’re sat on the floor in front of Jacob, legs crossed, while he was on your dorm bed. He had come over in order to watch a cute animated movie with you, the way the usually did after he played and won a match with his team. Except this time he barely made it through your door before you started bombarding him with questions about the after-game party that apparently was a tradition for your university’s volleyball team.

Jacob was hard-pressed to tell you ‘no’, especially with your puppy-dog eyes and the way your oversized shirt had ridden up your thighs when you had planted yourself in front of him.

“Why do you never want to go to parties with me?” You whine, pulling on his arm lightly, while pouting. He sighs deeply, already resigning himself to giving into your whim.

“We didn’t even tell them we’d be coming!”

“Oh, please, Jake! As if anyone cares about that. I bet you half a dozen random strangers will show up and no one will care!”

“We’ll be late.”

“No one will be bothered by that except for you.”

He groans, dropping dramatically back onto you bed. You crawl up beside, leaning over him with a smirk. His heart starts racing but he decides to ignore it. “So… is that a yes?”

“Yes, yes, fine whatever.” He says, but he knows you can see the smile etching itself onto his face.

“You’re the best!” You squeal, pressing a kiss to his cheek that leaves his face burning. Before he can even react you’ve jumped back up, throwing dress after dress on top of him. “Hey,” he tries to protest, sitting up but promptly getting hit in the face again.

“What should I wear?” You ask, already out of your t-shirt. You’re standing in front of him in nothing but a bra and your high school sport shorts. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in less before but with how out of sorts his heart has been acting this night he’s starting to think he’s going to have a problem tonight. “I don’t know, any of them look good.”

Rolling your eyes, your sigh, “You’re not very helpful, you know that?”

You pull on a cute red dress and Jacob is about to compliment you when you frown and pull it back over your head. As you continue to rummage through your closet, he starts looking through the dresses you had haphazardly tossed onto your bed and, by extension, on him. There’s a short black one that sparkles lightly if he holds it up to the light just right. He holds it out for you to see to inquire about your opinion. The way your face lights up let’s him know that he hit the mark.

“It’s perfect!” You exclaim after trying it on and spinning in front of your mirror. He wants to tell you that it’s not perfect after all, that the hem is definitively much too short. But he keeps quiet because he’s not your keeper and he’s never had it in him to deny you something you wanted before. Jacob waits patiently as you put on your makeup and do your hair, and is fascinated again by how much work goes into looking like you put no work into your appearance.

Finally you finish and make it to Sangyeon’s apartment two hours late. A stranger ushers you in. Jacob thinks it’s Sangyeon’s roommate, who he’s only met one singular occasion that left him with antipathy for the man, and the feeling is only exacerbated when said roommate’s inebriated.

“Dude, thought you wouldn’t show, cool you made it!” He greets Jacob, even though his eyes are still on you, blatantly looking you up and down. All that’s missing is him licking his lips, Jacob thinks. To his horror, you seem into it, winking at the player. Jacob's hand wraps around your arm, softly but decisively, and he pulls you into the kitchen to get some drinks. The communal space is full of his team mates. Most don’t pay any attention to your late arrival but a few stare at your ass as the two of you walk by. He’ll definitely need some alcohol to survive the night, he thinks. So that’s exactly what he does, he gets himself and you some alcohol, making sure to make yours mostly juice with only a spritz of vodka. Your reaction isn’t favourable but there really isn’t anything you can do about it now. Jacob would like to stick right by your side the entire evening but you’re almost immediately whisked away by no one lesser than his team’s co-captain. Unfortunately for Jacob he’s heard you gush about Sangyeon’s ‘bulging biceps’ on more than one occasion and he hates that the older man seems to have taken a liking to you too.

Jacob tries to distract himself by watching a different group of players have a go at truth and dare in front of the couch but he’s constantly distracted. Even more unfortunately, once he gets up from the game fifteen minutes later, you (and Sangyeon) have disappeared. So, really, he thinks it’s understandable that he drinks a little more than he initially planned.

After a few too many cups Jaehyun finds him in the kitchen only to announce that they’ve set up a keg in the courtyard downstairs. In his woozy state, Jacob thinks that sounds like a grand idea. Also, if there’s partying happening outside, you might’ve simply gone there and that was why he didn’t find you earlier. Jaehyun is elated at the fact that his party-averse junior is following him easily and the both of them are greeted with cheers when they emerge from the apartment building. Jacob spots neither you nor Sangyeon but he’s so busy scanning the area that he doesn’t even fully realise when Sangyeon’s infamous roommate sidles up to him, “Dude,” he whispers, “it’d be so rad if you did a keg-stand right now.”

“Uh uh,” Jacob replies and he’s been led all the way to the keg and is already halfway into a handstand before he fully realises what he just agreed to. Whatever, he thinks, might as well. So he let’s Jaehyun and the roommate hold him up while the tries to chuck as much beer as possible. The only problem was that Sangyeon and you decided to arrive outside at that exact moment. Jaehyun spots you and immediately screams your and Sangyeon’s name.

“Weren’t you two gone for a while? How’s the dick?”

Sangyeon and you throw up a simultaneous middle finger in response but Jacob can’t see that. He only hears Jaehyun’s comment and is momentarily so distracted that his hand slips.

There’s a few ways that this evening could have gone differently. For one, Jacob could have chosen to have a normal reaction to the person that is nothing but his best friend going off to fool around with his teammate. He could have drunken a normal amount of alcohol. He could have refused to go outside or he could have refused to do a keg-stand while being half a beer away from shit-faced. But he didn’t do any of those things. So when his hand slips it isn’t really surprising to anyone that he doesn’t manage to catch himself and instead slams face first into the keg.

It takes several stitches to sew up his lip. The same can’t be said for his chipped tooth. But the doctor’s verdict is generally favourable. “It could’ve gone much worse, young man.” He says at he shows Jacob out of the emergency room. Sangyeon, who had been sober, as it turns out, is waiting for him. He doesn’t have a comment as he leads Jacob to his car and drives him back to his apartment. He pulls up to the curb and Jacob is about get out when Sangyeon rests a hand on his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he says, leaving Jacob confused, especially because he still feels a considerable degree of tipsy, despite everything that had transpired over the last half hour. “For what?” He asks.

Sangyeon lets out a deep sigh,”I should’ve been there. It was my place, my invitation. I should’ve been responsible. And I wasn’t there.” For the first time Jacob sees his co-captain, usually a steady presence in the team, defeated. His shoulders are hunched over and Jacob realises the pressure that must rest on Sangyeon’s shoulders. He cares a lot, he’s a great co-captain, more responsible than their actual captain, to be honest.

“It’s not like you can be everywhere at once,” Jacob says, even though his insides feel like they're on flames when he thinks about where Sangyeon had disappeared to and with whom. Still, he’s great when he can tease a small smile from the older man’s lips.

“Thank you, Jacob. You’d make a great captain someday.” The man in question is more than a little taken aback.

“Because I showed such a great tendency for responsibility tonight?”

Sangyeon laughs, “No. Because you care, and you can read people very well. You’ll grow into it, don’t worry.” He smiles as if he has insight into the future in a way that Jacob doesn’t. “I’ll take better care of you from now on. But right now…” He looks out the passenger side window, past Jacob. “I think someone’s waiting for you.”

Jacob turns around, seeing you cowered on the steps to his dorm, your arms wrapped around yourself protectively.

Jacob waves Sangyeon off as his car drives off. He sits down next to you, bathing in the silence until the car lights have long faded away. When you still remain motionless next to him, he takes your hand in his softly and tugs you up the stairs to his dorm. He’s never been so happy that he has a solo dorm as when you wrap your arms around him fiercely the second his room door slams shut. He huffs as you press all the air out of his lungs.

“Are you okay?” You whisper into the side of his neck and he nods. You look up, your eyes big and shiny from tears that you must’ve cried before he arrived. He cradles your cheek to wipe the lingering traces of them away, but before he has the chance you close the distance between the two of you.

The press of your lips is light as a feather, unsure whether or not you’ve made the right decision. Jacob blames it on the alcohol, in hindsight. Otherwise there is no way he would’ve been ready to throw twenty years of friendship out the window. He moves his lips against yours, hungrily, because he’s afraid you might change your mind. But instead you wrap your arms around him more closely, trailing them up his back and his whole skin brakes out in goosebumps. One of your hands tangles in his hair, much more forceful now he’s given you permission. His hands wander as much as yours, he’s trying to commit every curve, every expanse of your skin to his drunken memory in the worry that this is some near-death-experience-induced hallucination.

But it’s still real when his hands sneak under your shirt, it’s still real when you take of his and start kissing across his chest. It’s still real when he strips you of your clothes and puts his mouth to your soaked core, it’s still real when you beg for more, your whimpers burned into his brain forever. It’s so so real when he enters you and when he feels you constrict around him until he’s releasing into the condom. You’re still real when you’re lying next to him in his tiny, messy dorm room, falling asleep curled into his side.

Unfortunately, it’s still real when he wakes up in the morning to your horrified expression. It’s real when both of you scramble out of bed, putting your clothes on backwards in the hurry and mumbling embarrassed ‘I’m sorry’s to each other. And it is all too real when you basically sprint out of his room only to send him a single text later that day, saying that, for the sake of your friendship, you’d be more than ready to just forget this ever happened.

#the boyz #jacob bae #jacob x reader #jacob bae x reader #the boyz jacob #the boyz jacob x reader #tb jacob x reader

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manonamora-if · 3 months

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March Check-In

Lol. We definitely were not back on track here. We tried and SUPER FAILED at going back to the schedule.

Will March be better? Let's find out together...

Onto the usual index:

Recap of last month’s progress

IF Events in the Next Month

Plan for the next month

Still long post under the break. If you want a mini version, head over to itch.io!

February Progress

Welp... there wasn't much of a list in the January Check-in, since it was the retrospective, which included the yearly plan. Still, I did make a mini one on itch. Put together we'd get:

Play more IF and maybe review. ✅

Finish the coding of Harcourt Ch5 ❌ and editing of Ch6 ❌

Fix one of the semi-completed games: ❌

Complete the Vamp/Smoochie jam entry✅

Heyyyy 50/50. Passable grade!

I've passed the very funny number of 420 reviews on the IFDB recently, mainly working my way through the French games (since there are very few reviews and French IF peeps are neat people). There are 300+ games left on that side, it will take me a while to get there but I'm making progress (almost done with 2023!). If my pace continues... I might be able to reach 2nd place in the ranking before my 1 year anniversary of reviewing games (mid-may). Also somewhat related, I've been trying to rate more games on itch too :)

I said I would finish the coding of Harcourt... and then didn't. But MelS was more productive than me, and he finished the first draft of Chapter 6 earlier than planned... which I haven't finished commenting on either... So :/

I also didn't fix any semi-completed games. So there.

But I managed to make it for the Queer Vampire Jam and the Smoochie Jam with Teatime with a Vampire ! A 20k-long trippy game with a hot vampire and a weird show...

AND AND I finally fixed my website and my itch.io profile. It has a cool feature on the front page. And we did a little AMA a few weeks ago!

Honestly, I thought I would have been done with Teatime two weeks before it actually was completed. So that threw a wrench in the rest. And probably having to moderate a few events at once...

And the extra day clearly didn't help.

EDIT: I TOTES FORGOT, but I updated DOL-OS for an extra QOL screen at the start.

What’s happening in March?

There's always something happening in the IF world. I don't think I ever find all that happens anyway... but. Here's the ones I know!

Today is the last day to submit a Spring Thing intent! (ranked)

he Queer Vampire Game Jam ends in about three weeks. Got a vampire/human story with a LGBT+ cast? Then this is the event for you! (unranked) Also they are doing a fundraising/matching donation with submissions!

The SeedComp! (Sprouting) extended the deadline for a few more days! See @seedcomp-if for more info ;) (ranked)

Concours de Fiction Interactive Francophone 2024 se termine Lundi! Viendez faire des histoires en français!! <3 (ranked, duh)

The next @neointeractives mini-jam will all be about bringing back old jams... Check out the Revival Jam !

The Text Adventure Literacy Jam 2024 just started! It will be looking for "parser for beginners" entries until May!

Note: @neointeractives will have jams all year long. One a month/or so. And the next Planting Round of @seedcomp-if will start as soon as the results are dropped.

The PLANtm for March

Busy plan once again. Here are the thing I'm hoping to do or finish this month:

Complete my French Comp entry. The deadline is in 3 days. Will I make it? Probably. Will it be good? Probably be not because I've been writing it only in the past two weeks. You can expect some "love" letters though...

Complete my SpringThing entry. It will be all about fixing typos and potential bug. The code will be ready next week anyway. Maybe slap some cool-er animations.

Play more games! Consider this done. There's the Smoochie Jam, the SeedComp! and the FrenchComp right there...

Finish the Code Ch5 of Harcourt and edit Ch6. At least one round of edits would be good. So I can put MelS to work again.

Finish fixing The Roads Not Taken. I'm so sorry babe. I'm not avoiding you I swear. I actually haven't bee on the computer with your files this month...

LET'S DO THIS! WE CAN DO IT!

The 2024 To-Do List:

I have done nothing here. So here's the list again for nothing.

The hopefully maybe easy to handle To-Do:

fix the bugs in EDOC + overall the French version to match

fix the bugs of TRNT + find a way to add the missing pieces (giving up on the translation)

fixing the interface of LPM and the popups + check animal interactions

figure out the One-Button JavaScrip/jQuery issue...

edit the loading screens of the completed tiny games to include the program/format logo at least.

The 'Need a Bunch of Content to update but it's planned!' To-Do:

Update my website (bunch new title - also I don't think the logo clicky thing work...) + redo my itch page

Finish TTATEH (MelS dependent - this year should be it - for real)

Finish Exquisite Cadaver (half-way mark by this summer - manif)

Finish P-Rix - Space Trucker (main path at least)

Update CRWL (it's been almost two years... I'm getting ashamed)

The Unlikely But it Would be Dope To-Do

Finish The Dinner as it was planned (and translate)

Finish In the Blink of an Eye as it was planned (and retranslate)

Finish The Rye in the Dark City

Fixing TTTT (at least fixing, maybe try adding some storylets)

And finally The 'It's impossible, but one can wish' TO-DO:

Remaster SPS IH (if I managed to start this after completing the rest... I'm going to eat a whole sheet cake).

Start the IFComp project (2025? Might end up being a ST?)

#dev log #progress #interactive fiction #check-in

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heyclickadee · 1 year

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I've had this sitting in my drafts for a few days and just forgot to post it. Anyway! Thoughts on "Entombed" (sorry, this got long):

1. There's an ancient mechanical creature hidden under a mountain on an uncharted world activated by a mysterious crystal and implied to have razed its entire planet. Why? How does this technology work? Is the mechanical creature alive or sentient in some way? What is it about the crystal that activates the creature? Is this just technology, or is it force weirdness, or both? Why did somebody (potentially the Zeffo) build a planet destroying giraffe of terror? Why was it in the mountain? Did someone hide it there? Did the engineer who designed it base its appearance off of a real animal? Did it hide itself? I have questions.

2. I had to watch this one twice to decide what I thought. I enjoyed it the first time, but I was so thrown by how completely different it was than what I was expecting that I had to give it another shot. Second time around? I loved it. Sometimes Star Wars is profound and serious. Sometimes it's silly Indiana Jones shenanigans in space, and I love it for that.

3. I'll talk about the whole "filler" discussion lower down, but one of the throughlines that's been carried through to this episode from the very beginning of the season is the idea of these characters exploring life outside Kamino, the army, and even the "hunker down and survive" mode they were all in last season, along with the choices they are or could be making as individuals regarding what kind of lives they want to live. Echo, for example, wants to go back to being a soldier, but this time in a fight against the empire; Crosshair is still choosing to be a soldier (for now), and he's miserable about it but having to live with the choice he made to stay; Tech's gotten to explore a bit of what he wants and likes through the riot racing episode but, more than that, he's being presented with the idea that the galaxy is broader and deeper than he considered and that he maybe has more to offer it than just what he was designed to offer; Wrecker...honestly needs an episode where he's in focus because he seems to be the most content of any of them and I'm not sure what Wrecker wants, besides being with the people he loves; and then this week was Omega's (and sort of but not quite) Hunter's turn. I'm an adult, so I tend to focus on the adult characters, but Omega's such a good character and it's great that she's also getting a chance to explore what kind of person she wants to be. This is the second episode we've seen that really focuses on her being a bit of an adrenaline junky with an interest in treasure hunting. And given what Romar said to her about how happiness is worth all the treasure in the galaxy, that's probably going to be a theme for her this season, and I'm curious to see where it goes.

4. Theres. An inexplicable megazord. Just. Out there. On a dead planet.

5. Hunter's...Hunter's not okay. And not even in just a "tired dad" sense, I mean that Hunter's probably been crying under his helmet since "Aftermath" and that he's getting to the point where he can't hide how bone-tired and sad he actually is. It's almost shocking going back and watching the first half of season one and comparing Hunter there to how he's been in his season so far, because he was so much more open back then. He was exploring options, asking questions, trying to find a new life for all of them, and came across as pretty confident in his decisions, but after the one-two-three punch of encountering Crosshair on Bracca, getting shot by Cad Bane, and losing Omega? The man shuts down. And he only shut down more after what happened with Crosshair on Kamino. I actually suspect that Hunter agrees more with Echo about what they should be doing than he lets on, even taking his opinion that Omega shouldn't be forced into become a soldier the way they were into account. He's not happy about what they're doing, he doesn't like going on dangerous missions for someone else, and he really only got involved with Cid because they were broke and desperate and because she kind of blackmailed them into doing it, but he keeps digging his heels in and refusing to move. It seems like he feels like he's a failure as a leader, a brother, and maybe even as a father, because he hasn't really been proactively leading the group since episode nine of last season. He isn't really making decisions about what they should or shouldn't do--he's mostly letting other people decide on their missions and then letting them guilt, blackmail, or push him into it because he's so scared of making a decision that get's another one of them hurt or results in them losing another person the way they lost Crosshair (or worse) that he's mentally and emotionally paralyzed AND emotionally isolating himself from everyone else. And that paralysis is starting--more than starting--to cause friction on the team, and I'm curious to see how that's going to affect the story moving forward.

6. Seriously, someone get this beautiful bandana man some therapy.

7. Likewise, the vibe between Echo and Hunter this episode was interesting. As much as they're (at least outwardly) disagreeing on what their next steps should be, there doesn't seem to be any animosity between them, at least not yet. All those silently exchanged glances? They disagree, but they trust each other, and I kind of think they both think that they other one is going to come around to their point of view. Eventually.

8. Omega is me if someone sets me loose on a scavanger hunt.

9. They gave me the space archaeology (kind of) and I am VIBRATING

10. I WISH archaeology was this fun. I spent an entire season walking surveys up in Wyoming, and did I ever come across a map to an ancient mecha-beast? No. No I did not. (I kid, real life archaeology is very fun and I have absolutely cried about lithic debitage and fingerprints on potsherds because someone it means someone lived and breathed and died and that stuff might seem boring but it's evidence of a human life and that's beautiful.)

11. Phee! All hail our pirate queen!

12. Phee is fun and her fashion sense is impeccable. And she has a sword. She's got a vibro-cutlass. Or something like unto a sword. But in space. And regardless of how anyone interprets them, I really liked the scenes with her and Tech at the beginning (characters being a bit snarky towards each other? I'm going to have fun), and Omega imprinting on her like a little baby duck was adorable. It's similar to the vibe Ezra had with Hondo, but where Ezra was a bit of a little shit (and I mean that affectionately) with a tendency to give Hondo chances he knew Hondo didn't deserve because he thought Hondo was a fun dude to have around (and maybe because he saw in Hondo a lot of the kind of person he would have turned into if the ghost crew hadn't picked him up and given him a chance), Omega's just all starry eyes with Phee. Is Phee trustworthy? Probably not. Is she fun for now? Oh yeah.

13. It would be hilarious if Phee turned out to be a former jedi who worked in the archives but left the order well before the war or order 66 because she wanted to go treasure hunting. This is the crackiest of crack theories and I do not expect it to happen. But it would be funny.

14. I loved how into the treasure hunt Tech started to get. Asking questions? About the puzzles? Doing his own investigation on the age of the site? Yes.

15. "I suspect that this is not, in fact, a treasure vault," as the aforementioned inexplicable megazord shambles to life once again proving that Tech, with his deadpan one-liners, is the funniest damn character on this show.

16. Not much Echo this episode, which was a little disappointing, but I liked what little we got. Hopefully there's more in the next one!

17. There's a MAP to an TECHNOLOGICAL MONSTER that PREDATES THE REPUBLIC just OUT in SPACE and I am HERE FOR IT.

18. I didn't think it was possible to make something that vaguely resembles an ankylosaur look scary. I've been corrected. I'm glad Wrecker was able to throw the ankylosaur from hell out the window. (But also I feel a little sorry for it).

19. Mel??? Running from the death ray??? And not making it??? Corbett and Rau I AM IN YOUR WALLS WHAT THE HELL??? But no, actually, that was a pretty good way to up tension without taking out one of the regular characters.

20. So...I'm not saying that spite is low-key a good motivator, but spite might low-key be a good motivator. I'll just leave it at that.

21. No one calls the clone characters by their names. I didn't think this was anything at first, but the more of this season I see, the more I think it definitely is. No one who isn't a clone addresses a clone by their name. And it's not just the villianous or morally ambiguous non-clone characters, no one does it. Not Phee, who has a couple different nicknames for everyone in the batch (including Tech, even though she asked what his name was), not Cid, not Rampart, not even Romar, and Romar was definitely a good guy. The only exception was the announcer and the crowd using Tech's name in "Faster," because that's the name he gave when he signed up (and there's a pretty good chance no one suspected he was a clone) and even then the announcer had to comment on how weird it was and questioned whether or not that was even a name. It's an interesting trend and is probably playing into the idea of how clones were viewed by most of the galaxy during the war--basically as non-people--but I also want to see where it goes before I come down on any hard conclusions. Apart from the overall trend, I do think that every character we're meeting is doing it for a different reason. Rampart pointedly calls clones by their CT numbers as a sign of disrespect. They are not people to him and he doesn't care if they know that. Cid? I think it's so she doesn't get attached. She doesn't want to like them too much. It might be the same for Phee, buuuuuut I'm not sure. And then with Romar...I kind of wonder if he kept calling Tech "Ace" partly because he didn't realize that Tech's name was Tech. Same with the announcer in "Faster" scratching his head over "Tech" being a name. Romar could have thought that "Tech" was a codename or a squad designation, because...I mean...clone names are unusual. Even within the galaxy far far away with the exceedingly silly names, clone names are often etymologically weird. And every person in the batch is named after their job. It'd be like going to the store and finding out that the person loading the shelves is just named "Stocker." And--hey, sad thought about clones--I kind of wonder if most people in the galaxy just assumed that clones didn't have names. After all, they're manufactured people, people who didn't--from what people could tell from the outside--have families. Who would name them? is probably what a lot of people who didn't know the clones would ask. The only people who called the clones by their names were the jedi and other clones; now the jedi are gone and most of the clones aren't in a position to even use their own names right now.

22. I just made myself sad about clones.

23. I LOVED the look of...well, of everything in this episode. It honestly felt like half the purpose of this one was to allow the art and effects teams to flex and flex they did.

24. This whole episode is like if someone decided that Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Castle in the Sky, Atlantis: The Lost Empire, and Godzilla: King of Monsters were the same movie, and I appreciate that energy.

25. I love that the batch's reaction at the end was basically just, "Well. That just happened." I need Crosshair to come back so they can tell him this story. Them just saying, "While you were off with the Empire we were awakening the ancient horrors," and him jokingly threatening to leave again because there's no way he's believing that this happened.

26. What is the kingdom of Elweys? I need it. I need to know. (For real, though, I'm actually glad that none of the crazy ancient technology stuff in this episode was explained. It gives the GFFA a bit of temporal depth that it doesn't always have and I'm here for it.)

27. Regarding the filler discussion: Not every story has to be serialized. It's okay for some shows to just be a series of putting characters in different combinations and scenarios and seeing what they do. In fact, that used to be the norm. For decades. That was how television worked. It's only in the last decade or so that serialized television has become more of a regular thing.

Furthermore, there's a spectrum of ways to serialize something. On one end of that spectrum you have your eight-hour movies--things like Kenobi and Moon Knight, where pretty much every episode begins where the previous episode ended, and where no episode is complete without the overall structure of the entire show. On the other end of that spectrum you have your tentpole episode shows--think something like the first season of the Ducktales reboot--where you can mostly watch the episodes in any order you want because most of the episodes are the characters getting into various shenanigans while most of the plot is reserved for big event episodes, usually mid-season or season finales. And then elsewhere on that spectrum you'll have shows that are written a little more like a novel. Every single episode or chapter will have its own story, its own miniature inciting incident, rising action, climax, falling action, and its own mix of plot, character development, and worldbuilding (sometimes focusing a little more on one than the others), but the successive episodes or chapters build up to an overarching story and overall structure, and it can be hard to see how or what that overarching story is until you get to the end of the whole story. That's what The Bad Batch is. It's that kind of serialized story.

And--just a last thought--if we're going to say that an episode is filler and doesn't contribute to the plot, we've got to one, consider that maybe story is more than plot, and two, ask ourselves what the "plot" actually is. Anyway, this is just me being a little bit salty, but the unending "filler" discourse whenever The Bad Batch isn't Crosshair's Agony Half-Hour got old last season, and this will probably be the last thing I say about it. (Also, this is just me and my two cents, so take it with a grain of salt).

28. Jumping off of that, this kind of episode does make me suspect that we are getting at least a third season, because it feels like the writers are taking their time taking us we're they're going. I am more than okay with this.

29. DID I MENTION THE INEXPLICABLE MEGAZORD???

#the bad batch #tbbspoilers #tbb spoilers #the bad batch season two #the bad batch spoilers #omega bad batch #hunter bad batch #tech bad batch #phee genoa #wrecker bad batch #echo bad batch #this episode was fun

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k-n-e-o · 4 months

Text

Nct Dream as high school students

This has been in my drafts for years! I’ve just reread it now and I think it’s pretty decent to post lol.

This is also mildly based off of my own highschool experience (which it’s now been years since I’ve graduated so obviously not current experience lol)

Disclaimer: this doesn’t have mark in it because he wasn’t back in nct dream at the time of writing, so I had it in my head that he already graduated and is in college

—————-

[ Renjun ]

This is used a lot but it fits him so well

He’s our little artist

Loved art class

Helps the drama kids make the props and costumes

Made a chair once for an art project, absolutely hated it (this was taken from something a friend of mine had to do once lol)

He was covered in black, red, yellow, and blue wood stain for weeks

He also smelled like saw dust for a while too

I think he’s the only one that would make and bring his lunch just because he doesn’t want to have to deal with the other idiots at the school during lunch

Him and the boys stay in the art room at lunch, it’s quieter

I want to say he’s the only one in the group that actually studies

But knowing this group of boys,

None of them are getting anything done lol

[ Jeno ]

We all know this boy is the jock of the group.

He’s also one of the responsible ones

Being the driver of the dreams carpool to school everyday

He also uses the schools fitness centre (basically a weight room and stuff)

Gets his lunch money stolen by Haechan all the time so he now brings double so he’s not asking Jaemin to steal stuff from the cafeteria

Track and field boy

Probably beats his own records every year

Also probably does football with Jaemin (spoiler?)

A goofball in all his classes, especially the ones he shares with Jaemin

Leaves little smiley faces on his friends work when they aren’t looking.

[ Haechan ]

I’m sorry but he’s a theatre boy

Auditions for all of the plays

Leaves his I.D card on the stage all the damn time

So he can’t sign out a computer when he needs one

Ends up using his phone instead and sometimes gets in trouble for it

He’s known all around the school even if people don’t actually know him they know of him

Every teacher knows him too

And they only roll their eyes when he’s loud and goofy in class

I won’t lie he probably doesn’t know any of the names of people in his class so he has to ask whenever he’s paired up with them for projects even though he’s been going to school with them for years already (how can you tell I was the person who people forgot lol)

But they can’t be mad at him for long when he’s got them bent over in laughter a few seconds later

[ Jaemin ]

In culinary arts, so he gets free food sometimes

Especially when he works in the cafeteria at lunch

Sometimes if jeno doesn’t have lunch money Jaemin will sneak some fries out for him

Also on the football team

(I don’t know why I see him doing this but I do so fight me)

Forgets his water bottle all the damn time so had to do push-ups whenever any of the football coaches catch him

Heart breaker of the century

Has girls (and some guys) staring at him and stalking his social media

Taking bio and chem at the same time

Quickly regrets that choice he made lol

Spends his spares annoying Renjun in art

Ends up painting his arm or hand and gets scolded by the art teacher

Friends with almost all of his teachers

Yes like Haechan he’s also that kid who the teachers know instantly by name and who they tell their other classes funny stories about

Probably almost blew up the chemistry lab with Haechan once

Now Haechan and him aren’t allowed to touch any of the lab equipment

Works out with jeno but sometimes slacks off

Makes jeno stop by the local coffee shop every morning on the dreamies way to school

[ Chenle ]

I don’t know why but I struggled so much with Chenles

It’s weird

He’s probably a band student who uses the piano in the room as often as he can.

He goes into the band room in the morning when jeno and Jaemin have early football practice and he goes when he has a spare

And when he’s still there after the school he plays the piano

I mean, he probably has like three pianos at home

But there’s something about the giant nearly empty room

And just playing the piano just to play

He’s a simple boy with simple desires

You can expect this boy will try out for the basketball team

And if he’s not with his friends or at a piano in the band room

He’ll probably be in the gym shooting hoops

Hate hate hates doing homework

He’s the main reason why Jisung gets nothing done too lol

Also if the dreamies aren’t “studying” at a cafe you can bet they are at Chenles house

And the only reason is because his house is the only one that can fit all six of them comfortably

Sometimes mark joins too, for old times sake

[ Jisung ]

You can fight me on this but this boy would be in the poetry slam club

He’s that quite cute boy who everyone glances at through out the meeting

Never used his locker

Instead he puts all his stuff in Chenles locker because, and I quote

“It’s easier”

Goes to all the sports games cause Chenle drags him there

Attempts to study

But we all not that ain’t happening

Gets really stressed during exam season

Probably eats one to many instant ramen packages

(He found Chenles secret stash)

Probably doesn’t skip class

Although he tried it once with Haechan but decided it wasn’t his thing

Eats lunch with the others at a near by food place every Friday as an end of the week treat

Is late to his afternoon class because they lost track of time

He’s the one always asking for a pencil or a pen

Probably tried out for the soccer team

And obviously got in

Kinda disappointed that the soccer season is short tho

But works hard none the less

Always forgetting his water bottle

Works on his writing when he has a moment of free time in class

Probably the kind to leave little love notes in his crushes locker

I don’t think he’s a huge party person

But he gets invited to a lot of them

Always complains about his student I.D photo

But it’s not as bad as he says it is

Hands in assignments late because he keeps forgetting to do them

#Nct dream #Nct Jisung #Nct Renjun #Nct jeno #Nct Haechan #Nct Jaemin #Nct Chenle #nct #Nct fanfic #Nct dream fanfic

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doctorho · 1 year

Text

New Things, Real Things

HI GUYS! have this thing i just found in my drafts. it was supposed to be a new years thing but i forgot it existed. haven't edited it, so it is what it is. sorry/you're welcome. i promise i'll get to my other wips too, eventually.

happy new year almost three weeks late i guess?

Viktor x gender neutral reader, 4,2k words, no warnings.

There's a fancy gala at the Academy...and Viktor has plans.

Midwinter in Piltover is beautiful, sparkling, and lonely.

There are lights everywhere, warm and colorful, and on cold evenings snow falls and gathers on the rooftops. The days are short and busy as always, and a good chunk of the population seems to temporarily lose their minds, shopping like the world was ending and worrying about cleaning their cabinets and planning to start a new life as if their old lives were going to disappear.

You worked with Jayce and Viktor, helping with paperwork and part orders, equipment upkeep and other small jobs. In the lab, very few things change; the heating goes up only as much as the regulations for the sensitive components allow, even as the temperatures outside plummet, and extra lights would just be a distraction anywhere near the workspace, not to mention annoying. Besides, it's not like they don't have better use for the power outlets.

From a scientific perspective, everything went on as it always had, except for the slight changes in temperature and air humidity, and some shipping delays in parts.

And, well, the parties.

One big, blaring disruption to the routine is steadily approaching;

The midwinter gala. It was tradition, something that the Academy always did. Something to celebrate, something to light up the long dark winter around the midpoint mark. Give people something to look forward to, a reason to mingle, and an excuse to celebrate.

You had never been. But ever since Hextech took off, Viktor and Jayce had been invited every year. With colorful opinions of the topic, it seemed; Pretentious. There’s better ways to waste money. Awful speeches, terrible company. Business deals disguised as small talk. Insufferable jokes. Conversations that make you want to tear your hair out. Uncomfortable clothes.

It’s not all bad, Jayce usually says, the music’s okay, really talented performers every year.

And the food’s okay. And the drinks.

And it’s free.

It’s important to keep up the connections.

Viktor usually only agrees with some of these statements.

They both talk about this as if it’s mostly an inconvenience, a disruption in their work, a break in shipping times and opening hours, and not an event to look forward to. Not something that Academy students dream of attending.

As the dark days tick by, it’s by pure luck that you find yourself on the guest list, too. It’s not that they ask you to come as much as the conversation just slips there, and one piece falls to place after another, and when Viktor says that he would much rather have you there to talk to than be subjected to the endless rows of pretentious investors, and Jayce says you should totally come, it'll be much better with you there, at that point it would just be rude to decline.

And – sure. Both of them were very honest about the more unpleasant aspects of the party. Like the elitism, the stuffy atmosphere, the way they were always inevitably pulled into some business talk or investor deals or very thinly veiled attempts at introducing them to someone’s child/cousin/friend/sibling that was either single or looking to get into the academy, or both.

But it was also a shiny glimpse into a life you’d never been a part of, and you were curious.

As the end of the schoolyear approaches, a lot of the people working and studying at the academy leave to visit their families. It makes the hallways quieter at night, and the courtyard mostly empty, the lines at coffee shops shorter than ever. You weren't planning on going anywhere, and, well. The gala was something…new.

Not that you didn’t enjoy the quiet nights at the lab, helping and tinkering and sorting parts and paperwork with Viktor and Jayce. No, that was nice. But the gala was something new and exciting and shiny, and you were looking forward to it.

And, to your slight surprise, so was Viktor.

For all the bad or at least questionable things he had said about the event, he was very precise about planning the lab work so that he would actually be able to attend. Which was…interesting.

He made sure all the shipments were on schedule, everything that was needed was ordered in, and all the progress was going as planned. He wasn’t usually in the habit of double-checking things with you, unless he genuinely wasn’t sure about something. But now he was triple-checking to-do lists, asking if you’d done this or that already, periodically making sure things were moving as they should.

He asked you what you were going to wear.

Which honestly took you by surprise, but you’d answered it anyway.

His answer took you by surprise too;

“That’s very flammable, isn’t it?” He’d said, as if that’s a key feature of formal wear.

“I’m not planning on being near any open fires,” You’d answered, “I don’t think welding is going to be a part of the party.”

He’d just hummed thoughtfully at that.

Jayce had said something about most formal wear being highly flammable, and that had been that.

You’d chalked that up to just Viktor being Viktor, practical and logical, and hadn’t thought too much about it. The conversation had soon delved into circuit boards, and the night slipped into an easy, familiar dynamic of sitting at your respective desks and heating up forgotten cups of coffee and tea, borrowing a hand where some part or another was difficult to fix. Holding out tools and finding the right components.

By the time the day of the gala rolls around, the campus is quiet and the city is mostly covered in snow. The lab windows are frosted over, and work has quieted down a good few days before. Viktor’s planning has paid off; everything seemed to be in order. As far as you could tell, you’d reached the set goal in the set time.

Which leaves Viktor leaning over in his chair, looking everything over for one last time. Jayce had left already, having somewhere to be before the event. This leaves you and Viktor alone in the lab – technically you didn’t need to be there anymore, either, but you lingered anyway.

“It’s fine,” You note when he opens a small case of components, “you’ve checked those at least three times already.”

He pauses, his hand stopping on top of the case. “Yes.” He says, and then lets out a small sigh. “I know.”

“But?” You prod, looking him over. He was nervous, and not very good at hiding it.

He’s quiet for a moment. “But…” He starts, “I just want to be sure that everything’s…” He shrugs slowly, “As good as it can be.”

You nod a bit. “At this point, I’ll be surprised if anything’s out of line.” You point out.

You weren’t sure of the details of what they were working on, but you knew the ins and outs of the parts; new kinds of circuit boards for different types of machinery. They’d had you order the parts, you’d helped with the wiring, checked any menial errors in the soldering, filed the paperwork. They were trying to create something with a better ratio of efficiency; less lost power. If it worked, it could potentially revolutionize the energy industry. It made sense that he was nervous about it – it was a big project. And this was as far as they’d ever gotten in it. Far enough to have actual prototypes.

You get out of your own chair and walk over to him, looking at the parts over his shoulder.

“Do you want me to look them over again?” You offer, placing a hand on the back of his chair and leaning closer to see the tools and discarded parts spread over his desk.

“You’ve done that already.” He notes, without looking up. “There’s no need to repeat that. I trust you.”

“Then what are you nervous about?”

He takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising slowly. He flexes a hand and picks up a small screwdriver, for no reason other than to have something to fidget with.

“A lot of important people coming to the gala,” He answers, “people I…need to impress.” He swallows, “I am not a fan of being at the mercy of someone else’s opinions of me and my work.”

You nod slowly, and he takes another deep breath.

“Jayce thought it would be a good idea to present this idea to some potential investors tonight.” He adds, “We haven’t gotten permission to test it yet, so all we have is talk and some equations no-one there will care about.”

He waves a hand slowly over the table. “I know it checks out, it should work, or at least it could if we’d get a bit more practical research done. But that’s not enough to impress anyone. So –” He shrugs again, slowly, “It needs to be…presented in a way that people will believe, even if we don’t have anything real yet.”

“Sure you do.” You counter, despite understanding where he was coming from – he wasn't actually worried about the parts, he was worried about the people. An independent variable he couldn't predict.

“You have an idea. A plan. You have a concept.” You list, “That’s how everything starts. Hell, you have a prototype and the math to back it up. And, you know, most people never even get this far. Certainly not any of those investors. Do you think any of them could ever have come up with anything half this brilliant?”

He’s silent for a moment.

“That’s…one way of looking at it.” He says, and then sighs a bit. “I’m just…not the biggest fan of performative social events. Especially ones with…high stakes.”

“I get it,” You nod, “but you’ll do great. People respect you.”

He smiles like he doesn’t quite believe it. “People are Jayce’s specialty, not mine.”

You shrug a little with one shoulder. “Sure, but you could do all of that too, if you wanted to.”

“I’d rather not.” He answers, putting down the screwdriver he’d been fidgeting with and straightening out the case storing the latest parts.

“Then leave that to Jayce.” You offer casually, “And you just be impressive with the science.”

He exhales a small laugh. “That simple, huh?”

“You do it often enough.” You note, and then lean back, starting to get ready to leave – you still had to get ready before the party. “Don’t overthink it. Just be yourself. If they don’t like it, they’re not worth your time.”

“You do know they are the people with all the money, right?”

“Yeah, and I also know you wouldn’t feel good funding this with money from corrupted assholes.”

He takes a deep breath and sighs it out. “Yeah. You’re right.” He then agrees, shifting in his place. “So I’ll meet you here at eight?”

You barely pause in your movements, picking up your things. “Yeah.” You exhale, “Eight sounds good.”

You were treading the line of not letting yourself think that this was a date, but…the little things were hard to miss. Like planning to go together, and then spending time together. In an event like this, there were…connotations.

By the time you get home, shower, and get yourself ready, you’re periodically repeating it in your head like a mantra; no-one said it was a date.

And then when you find him outside the lab just before eight, you have to keep reminding yourself.

It’s not often that you see Viktor outside of Academy uniforms; it’s like the lab is his natural habitat. Now, he’s wearing a deep burgundy suit that looks like velvet – soft – his hair is pushed back, without any indents from safety goggles, and he looks good.

He smiles when he sees you, and that looks good too.

“You clean up nicely.” You note as you walk to him.

“Same back at you.” He answers, “You look…” He trails off, his eyes falling over you.

In the small silence that follows, you remind yourself once again that nobody said it was a date.

“Thanks.” You answer, trying to sound as casual as possible, “Shall we?”

He exhales deeply and nods, starting to walk next to you.

The party is…exactly as you'd expected. Sparkling, and shimmering, and loud. Full of people you only sort of recognized, all of them acting like this whole thing was somehow removed from reality. Like this was its own little world, and they alone ran it. All mundane worries were left by the door – inside, all they had to worry about was a place to set down their empty classes when someone with an empty tray walked by.

The ceilings are high in the old academy halls, and the equally tall windows reflect lights from the party, backlit only by the night sky. You could hear the music flow through the air all the way outside, overlayed with a mixture of people chattering and laughing, but only when appropriate – at least with the night this young. You had a suspicion that as time went on and people got progressively more drunk, the atmosphere might change.

When you walk in to the main hall, Jayce is already there; you can instantly spot him talking to some people, waving his hands in emphasis as he speaks. It's easy to slip into his sphere of influence, catching the tail end of some elaborate story that had, no doubt, started out as an answer to a question about hextech.

Most people in the room seem to have gathered into small groups, either mingling or honing in on the food and drinks, and the only thing unifying the whole room are some speeches and announcements. You don't really listen to them – it's nothing imaginative, thank you for a great year, let's work together to make the next one even better, and so on and so on. You tune it out pretty quickly.

Jayce and Viktor gathered quite the crowd whenever they started talking about their new projects, and you tried supporting them the best you could. But you weren't an expert, so you lingered by the sidelines, only offering smiles and quick notes when one of them couldn't remember a specific detail about something you'd helped with.

You can see that Viktor is uncomfortable, with the way he stands, his back all stiff and his hands fidgeting, and his eyes flitting over the room. So you offer him an encouraging smile every time his eyes find you. He seems to slowly get used to answering questions about the project, which is good – it lessens your anxiety about the situation too, somehow.

As soon as the crowd dissipates and the topic gets dropped for some boring speech or a toast or a nomination or whatever, Viktor slips to the edges of the crowd, finding a spot next to you and sighing so deeply he looks like he deflates.

"It looked like it went well." You greet him, and he smiles faintly without meeting your eyes, looking over the room instead.

"People seemed…interested." He answers, nodding a little.

"That's good." You nod back, "Any further deals?"

"Jayce is sorting out the details now." He licks his lips, "I thought it would be best if he took care of that. He's more…likable.'

He says that like it's a fact, and you kind of want to argue, or – or something, but he snaps his head up, looking at you so intensely that it makes your train of thought stagger.

"Do you want to help with something?" He asks, voice quiet, and his eyes locked to yours.

You blink. "That's vague," you point out, "but if it'll get me out of having to listen to another boring speech, I'm in."

He smiles a little. Nods, just slightly.

And drops his hand into yours, just for long enough to pull you towards the closest door.

It's easy to slip out of the crowd and into a hallway. People were too busy worrying about themselves, no-one even looked your way.

He drops your hand just as casually as he had taken it, in one fluid motion, and opens a door, motioning for you to go inside.

You're burning with the desire to ask what he was planning, but he was quiet, and you weren't dumb; this was something silent. Something he wanted to do without other people noticing.

So you stay quiet until he closes the door softly behind you.

"What are we doing?" You whisper as he walks past you and to a desk, without turning on any lights. The whole room – which is more of a closet than a room, really – is only lit by emergency exit lights, and a few computer screens.

He settles behind one of the computer screens, and you can see him lick his lips. "Remember when I said we needed to do a bit more practical research?"

You walk closer slowly. "...Yes?"

He smiles and glances at you, before looking down at the screen again. He leans to the table a little, setting his cane aside, taking a small box from his pocket and digging out a circuit board.

He rearranges some things on the desk, moving wires and turning on some small device that whirrs more loudly than the computer itself. You just watch the process quietly for a moment, puzzling it out in your head.

"You couldn't just come here during working hours?" You ask, even though you're 99% sure that if he could have, he would have, and if he did this, he had a good reason.

"The Academic board doesn't think we're ready yet. They say it would be a waste of time."

You nod slowly, trying your best to ignore the hollow, tired bitterness in his voice. It's the kind of ice that seeps in after being rejected many times; after not being believed in.

"So. No-one knows we're here?"

"Jayce does," he answers, while doing something on the computer, typing in something before setting the circuit board on some sort of a gently-glowing plate, "he's keeping all the important eyes and ears busy."

You nod again. Move a bit closer. Look over the setup, despite not understanding all of it. "Can I help?" You ask, "What are we doing?"

"Keep an ear out in case anyone comes in." He answers, his eyes on the screen and his fingers running over some wires, securing them in place, "And I'm running a test on how the circuit would handle high power levels."

"How high?"

"Nuclear fusion." he answers, like it's a totally normal thing to say.

"Nuclear-" you start, shocked, and he looks up at you, pausing in his movements.

He meets your eyes, steady and intense. "I would not have brought you here if it wasn't safe." He says, his voice unwavering, "We're not going to actually run that sort of power through this, think of it as more like…a simulation with…some real-life components."

You blink at him. "You could have lead with that."

"Sorry." He says quietly, and goes back to setting something up on the screen. After a moment, he shifts a little, and nods towards the screen, "Do you want to check if this looks right to you?" He asks, "be my second set of eyes and all."

You step closer, leaning next to him and looking over the screen. There was a digital model of the circuit board, emphasized by different colors and some running stats at the side of the screen. Your eyes move over the usual potential issues – looking for broken connections, faulty components, badly attached wires. Counting things, making sure there weren't empty slots.

You nod slowly. "Looks right to me."

He nods back, and presses some buttons, and the simulation starts running. The device where the actual circuit board was connected to lights up, and a progress bar appears on screen.

Viktor sighs, deeply.

"Now we wait." He says, "The reason they don't give out permissions to use this easily is that it is slow and takes up a lot of bandwidth from other systems in here. But no-one is using any of that tonight."

You nod a bit. "And you just couldn't pass by an opportunity like this."

He smiles a bit. "Would you rather be out there, listening to someone tell a story about how they just spent more money on a vase than you've ever seen in your life?"

"No." You sigh, and lean to the desk next to him. "Thanks for saving me."

"Anytime."

He reads over some sort of progress report on screen, scrolling through code that you couldn't understand most of.

And then you hear footsteps. Uneven, heavy – unknown. And they were coming closer.

Viktor hears it the same time you do. He looks up at you, eyes wide for a split second, and you can practically see the cogs turning in his head.

You weren't allowed to be there. You weren't sure how bad it would be if you got caught, but it probably wouldn't be good.

Time seems to stretch and compress between each heartbeat that hammers through your chest. Between each unfamiliar footstep.

One, Viktor shakes himself out of the shock and minimizes the simulation window, leaving just the standard desktop that had been open when you'd walked in.

Two, he takes a step away from the computer, and closer to you.

Three, he leans closer, caging you between him and the desk, whispers a quiet please play along, and then he kisses you.

He kisses you.

Your mind catches up to this, and everything else that was happening, piece by piece.

He wasn't really kissing you – but he was, and it was heaven, his taste was intoxicating and his body was pressed against yours and he was filling all your senses and his jacket was soft under your fingers, his lips soft against yours – but it wasn't real, it was a distraction, play along, he'd said, it was a play, for whoever was behind that door, it wasn't for you –

He shifts, pressing closer to you, exhaling a small sigh, and the contradiction of it is torture. Torture you wouldn't give up for anything, because now you had this, you knew what he felt like, what he sounded like, what he smelled like this close, what he tasted like, but it wasn't real, and that hurt like having something in your heart uprooted.

The door opens and closes with a quick flash of light, and a foreign voice blurting out a quick Sorry! before hurrying away.

You have to suppress a whine when Viktor pulls away. You had kissed him back, of course, but – it wasn't supposed to be real. And yet you miss it instantly.

He doesn't move much. Just enough to give you room to breathe. Just enough to look you in the eyes.

"Sorry." He says, "I…thought that would be a…perfectly understandable and entirely legal reason for us being in here." He explains, looking away.

Sorry.

He had kissed you, and he dared to apologize.

He had kissed you, and it hadn't been real.

He had kissed you, and he hadn't known if you wanted it.

You can do nothing but swallow and take a slightly-shaky breath. "It's okay." You answer, voice light, "I was just…surprised."

He takes a deep breath, shifts back to look at the screen. "Not what you were expecting when you followed me in here?"

"No."

He sighs. "I'm…sorry." He says again, slowly. "For crossing any boundaries. I would have asked but–"

"Viktor." You stop him, "I get it. You don't need to apologize. It was fast thinking, I get it."

Then, you let out a quiet laugh. "Like you said. Good excuse for us to be in here." You smile, "Honestly."

You sigh a bit, too. "People will talk though. You think they recognized us?"

"It's pretty dark in here." He answers, "But it wouldn't be the worst rumor to have circulate."

"You wouldn't mind having people say you habitually hook up with people in closets at parties?"

"Who said it's habitual?" He counters, "This is a sample size of one." He notes, glancing up from the screen briefly, "I'm saying that I wouldn't mind having people say I hooked up with you in a closet at a party." He looks back at the screen, "Unless you're opposed to the idea, of course. In which case I apologize."

You just look at him for a few seconds.

"I'm not." You answer, "Opposed to the idea." You swallow, feeling like this conversation was suddenly far more serious. Far more…real.

He hums out thoughtfully, picking out a few wires and unplugging them, having finished at least some part of the simulation.

"So if you're not opposed," He says, words slow, "how do you feel?"

You swallow again. "Well, for one, I think there's better places to hook up in than closets," You answer, "and I'd prefer it not to be an act. But you're right, there could be worse rumors. And…it does make sense. We came in together. People already think it's a date."

He nods, and hums again, thoughtfully.

Looks up to meet your eyes. "So if you're not opposed to the concept," He says, slowly, "and you'd prefer it not to be an act," he shifts in his place a little, "would you like it to be real?"

Time stands still.

Until you whisper yes.

#arcane fanfic #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x reader #arcane viktor

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