#this idea would not leave me alone and i was listening to red tv as one does so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tmntxthings · 9 months

Note

Had a dream where I got to meet the 2012 TMNT and Raph just gave me a big ol hug and wouldn’t let go.

Gave me the idea, what if reader went on a trip for a week or so and as soon as they get back, Raph is all cuddly with them and won’t let go. He’s making sure they aren’t leaving for a while. He’s getting teased for sure, and he’ll try to deny that he missed them that much, but he won’t leave them alone, sooo.

一∑ Proximity ・゜・。

author’s note: i thought this was cute, so yes, here we go c: also what a nice dream!

warnings: fluff, short

—————————————————————————

It was good to be home! Sure traveling was fun and you’d definitely be traveling again. Just not anytime soon. You had definitely gotten a case of homesickness. It was especially tough to be away from your friends. Though thankfully they had kept you company through texts.

You had been surprised at how much Raph had texted you though! In person he wasn’t as talkative with you around, so to have those deeper convos gave you a bit of insight to the turtle in red unlike before! In fact you felt closer to him, and you hoped it could pass over to in-person as well!

Now you hadn’t been gone too long. This wasn’t the longest trip you’ve ever been on by no means! In the past when you were little you had went on road-trips that lasted well over two weeks. So just a week at the beach was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Yet as you texted the turtles that you were back and heading their way, you were met with a plethora of ‘ Hoorays/ Can’t wait to see ya/ & Hurry over’s. ’ It was heartwarming! So you had a pep in your step down the New York City’s sidewalks. Down the manhole cover you went and as your eyes adjusted to the darkness your footing finally found the sewer floor.

Immediately strong arms wrapped around you. It was a shock no doubt and you couldn’t stop the sudden gasp from leaving you as you practically jumped out of your skin! But you saw green arms and tilting your head everywhich way behind your back to see a flash of red clued you in on who it was.

“Raph! You gave me a flippin’ heart attack!!”

His reply was to only squeeze tighter, and silence enveloped the two of you for a beat.

“I missed you too,” You said softly a smile on your lips. His reply was mumbled into your hair, so low you couldn’t decipher it but you had an inkling.

After a moment or two more his arms relaxed and you slipped out of his grip and started regaling your adventures from the trip! He led the way back to the lair, giving responses when you paused but letting you talk overall.

And then you were met with three more hugs! “Was wondering where you ran off to Raph!!” Mikey drawled with a smug look. To which earned him Raph’s patented glare, a heated look that warned Mikey he was treading on thin ice.

You restarted your tale of adventures, all five of you sitting comfortably around the tv in the living room. Mikey was asking a bunch of question while Leo and Donnie listened politely. Raph sat right next to you, arms going over the back of the couch.

It had been about an hour when your phone started to ring. Your mom needed a grocery run and was asking for your help! With that you relayed the message to the turtles and said you would stop by again soon! “We’ll be here!” Leo smiled. “Do you need help with the groceries?” Donnie asked, to which you thanked him kindly but said you could manage. “Leaving already?!!” Mikey whined giving you a puppy dog stare before crushing you in a hug. “Betcha Raph’s gonna walk you to the manhole!” Mikey said in a sing-song tone. Teasing his red brother once again.

“And if I am??” Raph asked defensively. “Just admit it bro! You missed Y/n sooooooo much. Never left your phone alone, always texting during patr—“ Things started to fly at Mikey’s head before he could finish his sentence. As Raph ground out that he needed to mind his own business or just shut up in general.

It took you calling out a goodbye for Raph to finally let Mikey out of a headlock as he raced towards your side. But not without giving Mikey one last warning to be prepared for when he got back.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed Raph! You know I missed you guys too!!” You tried to say.

But you were met with denials! “Mikey doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I was playing this new game..”

“Ohh..”

“What game?” You questioned. And not to see if he was lying just because you were honestly curious. He sputtered about it being some dumb fighting game and that ended that conversation. The walk was quiet but you were used to it. Raph kept close to you the entire way to the manhole, sometimes his hand would even brush yours as his arms swung slightly as he walked. Surely that had just been a coincidence!

“Well, this is me!” You joked, head nodding up at the manhole above you. “You sure you don’t need help with the errands?” Raph offered. Your heart warmed again, but you shook your head. “I’ve got it! But I promise to be back soon, maybe even later today?”

Raph seemed to like that idea. “Alright, well text me and keep me updated..” he put his hands on his hips as he started rocking slowly back on his heels. “Will do!” And with that you turned your back to him and went to climb to ladder rungs.

Before you could take too many steps away though, it was like déjà vu. Raph’s arms went around your middle. Hugging you for the second time today. This was one quick, almost as if he hadn’t exactly expected himself to move into action. He cleared his throat and called out a goodbye as he left. At the top of the climb you looked out to see he was already out of sight! You still called out for the whole sewer to hear,

“Missed you too Raph!”

Even though he wouldn’t say it. At least not clearly. You would say it just so he knew that for certain.

564 notes · View notes

babydollmarauders · 11 months

Note

i sometimes hear ppl say that guys find their girlfriends unattractive after sex

so can you write about dolly asking luke if he’s still attracted to her after sex bc she was curious (she knows she’s always gorgeous but if you want to write ab her being insecure or wtv that’s fine) and luke is just in shock so he’s all like “ILL ALWAYS FIND YOU BEAUTIFUL” or something like that

a blurb would also be cute too

thank youu 🌟

i love this idea omg! so sorry it took me so long for this! it got lost in the abyss that is my inbox 😭 here’s a short lil blurb for this!

my eyes are saucer wide, flickering between my boyfriend and my phone screen, which is stuck on twitter.

Luke sits on the couch with my feet in his lap, his eyes glued to the tv screen that currently plays Secretariat, as i scroll through social media. but my scrolling has been halted after coming across a tweet that’s unlocked a new fear in my brain.

a guy is talking about how after sex, he finds his girlfriend unattractive for at least an hour. the tweet is followed by hundreds of responses, mostly other men confirming the existence of ‘post nut clarity’ where they experience the same thing.

now my brain is thinking a million thoughts, but the one sticking out is-

“do you think i’m ugly after sex?”

i barely have time to think about the words leaving my mouth, let alone stop myself from saying them out loud.

Luke’s head whips toward me, his eyes wide and full of disbelief.

“do i what?!” he sputters out.

Jack lets out an awkward cough from his spot behind me in the kitchen and Luke’s gaze flicks up towards his brother before settling back on me.

Jack makes a quick getaway, stifling laughter into his sweatshirt sleeve as he fast-walks down the hallway, disappearing into his bedroom.

“do you find me ugly after sex?” i reword my question but Luke still gapes at me wordlessly.

it’s another brief moment before Luke shakes his head, clearing his thoughts.

“i’m sorry, i must’ve misheard you because it sounds like you’re asking if i find you ugly after the most vulnerable state that we put ourselves in. as if i could ever find you anything but beautiful, especially after those moments.”

his response makes a red hue flush my cheeks, blood rushing to my face in embarrassment and humility.

“i don’t know- i just- i saw this twitter thread of a bunch of guys saying they find their partners unattractive for a couple hours after sex and i worried that maybe you thought that way too.”

i cover my face with my hands hiding away from my boyfriends stare. but, that doesn’t last long because within seconds, his hands are wrapping around my wrists, prying my hands away and pulling them down to my lap. his hands swiftly dragging down to hold mine.

“dolly, i want you to listen to me and hear every word i’m saying; i will always think you’re beautiful. pre-sex, post-sex. when you’re dressed up and when you’re wearing stained sweatpants. when you’ve just woken up to when you’re laying down to go to sleep. you will always be the most beautiful girl i have ever laid eyes on. please never doubt that.”

#faithlynn speaks 🪐#ask faithlynn ✨#luke’s gf au !

245 notes · View notes

murdertrialimagines · 1 year

Text

Self Care Day with the V3 Boys!

Because taking care of yourself is important, loves 😌

Shuichi Saihara

You want him to have a self care day with you? He has a lot of stuff to do... well, okay. Sure!

Blushes when you apply the mask to his face.

Jumps at first because it's cold.

Smiles bashfully, cheeks red, while applying yours to your face.

While that's drying, you guys put on a movie quietly and just talk.

Sometimes it's nice to just be together :)

Kaito Momota

Pls he's so excited when you ask him 😭

Wants to make it perfect

He literally puts so much effort in

He's got candles, he puts on calm music, grabs your favorite snacks and drinks, he's got movies lined up, face masks and lotions are already on the table.

Please let him put yours on you 😭

Lowkey wants to cuddle you and watch a rom com. Please do that with him.

He will also slow dance with you. Music or no music.

Ryoma Hoshi

What's that? Taking care of yourself? He's never heard of it.

He'd be rather against the idea of putting anything on his face, but he would absolutely keep you company while you do your self care routine.

If you beg him, he'd probably sigh and let you put a face mask on him.

"If it makes you happy, I guess you can."

You can probably convince him to lay down with you and watch tv, too.

You guys talk about anything and everything.

He could get used to these "self-care days".

Gonta Gokuhara

Smiles and happily agrees to spend time with you. That's Gonta's favorite thing to do!

You want to put a face mask on him? Okay!

Flinches because it's cold 🥺

He really likes the way it smells.

Wants to help you do yours, too!

He will ask you about your day. Not just to make small talk, he really wants to know!

Tell him stories or ask about his day in return and he will smile so wide.

Kiibo

He's a robot, so you probably don't need to put anything on his face. It may damage the metal!

But he will keep you company, if you'd like!

He will offer you suggestions on other things you can do to relax.

"Candles offer a relaxing atmosphere. You may also take a warm bath or get a massage!"

Will probably offer a massage, despite being made of metal.

Surprisingly does a really good job, tho.

Korekiyo Shinguji

Speaking of massages,,

This man is a massage GOD.

He somehow gets knots loose that you didn't even know were there in the first place.

He delicately applies the peeling mask to your face, leaning in extra close to make sure he gets it all.

Chuckles when you blush from the close proximity.

Will also braid your hair. If you have short hair, he gently brushes it for you.

This man knows about self care.

Rantaro Amami

He's so good at this.

If you ask him to paint your nails, he will light up. He would love to!!

Especially if you're nervous/embarrassed. He adores when you're flustered.

You're just so cute~

He will tease the living shit out of you.

He will also do face masks with you!

When you tell him you need a self-care day, he absolutely takes it seriously.

You two listen to quiet music and talk about your talent, his adventures, media you like, anything and everything.

Kokichi Ouma

First of all, why would you think this is a good idea?

Self care and this little gremlin do not mix. Self care is supposed to be calm and relaxing, and Ouma is, well, the exact opposite of that.

I think the best thing he can do for you on self care days is just... leave you alone, to be honest.

But if he's around, here's what he'll do:

He asks about everything you do. What it is, why you use it, what does it do, can he try it?

Tells you that you look funny with a face mask on, then asks if he can use some, too.

Wants to put on a sheet mask and hide somewhere to scare Gonta.

You have to keep him from doing that.

Hope you enjoyed this! I had a self care day today and it inspired me to write this lil thing! Take care of yourselves!! 💖

Mod Kirigiri

977 notes · View notes

nexysworld · 1 year

Text

Guardian Angel 🖤 Part 4.3 🖤

Read on AO3 - Requests are Open - Masterlist

Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | 4.1| 4.2

A/N: Thanks for the support and patience for this chapter. Tumblr wouldn't actually let me post it in one or even 2 parts no matter how I tried to split it, so it's split into three parts (though you can read it as one chapter on AO3.)

Chapter Summary: In a an attempt to get reader to open up to him, he starts giving in to a change of scenery and other requests for her. Leon even allows her a special friend before he leaves on a work mission, leaving the reader home alone for the first time.

🖤Pairing: Yandere!Leon/Fem!Reader

🖤Tags (not all apply to all chapters): NSFW, Masturbation, Dubcon, Sex, Gaslighting, canon typical horror and gore descriptions, probably eventual kidnapping or kidnapping like behavior, use of pet names like bunny. Leon induces some PTSD like flashbacks on purpose, general things of that nature. Unwanted creampie, etc. Probably treat as dead dove. Inappropriate use of animal collar. Threats of animal abuse (though none occurs and it's not descriptive.)

The first day was easy for you. Being alone definitely felt strange, being alone with essentially free roam of the house was even more strange, but with Lucipurr running around with you, it didn’t feel as lonely as you thought, the little cat brought such an indescribable joy to you.

You listened to music while you paced back and forth, watched TV, more pacing. At one point it even started to rain, so you took a seat by a window and read for a while. It was peaceful. Actually peaceful, you didn’t let your mind wander beyond the moment. So many bad things had happened, you just wanted to focus on the good for now while you could, and having Lucip around to take care of instantly brightened any even remotely soured mood you had. Besides, he needed you, you couldn’t lose it while he depended on you. The second day had been a bit harder. You hadn’t particularly liked waking up without the smell of food or Leon’s kisses. And if you thought about that further you felt conflicted about even feeling that way, especially with everything – no – you immediately stopped that thought. N o bad thoughts. No bad thoughts . Luckily for you the cat had got your attention, meowing at you incessantly to remind you that it was breakfast time.

The evening had been even harder. The scratching of the tree branches outside, the pitter-pattering of the rain on the roof, just the general creakiness of the old house had you on edge. While you trusted that no living thing would enter without Leon’s permission, that didn’t exclude the supernatural. You felt silly for even entertaining that idea, but it was hard not to when you were entirely alone. You swore the red eyed man was back, not fully, but there was always something flashing in your peripheral vision freaking you out. It helped even less when the attic door had creaked open.

It’s not that you hadn’t been curious, but, you felt you knew enough about Leon to know that he would know if you went up there. How would he know? You didn’t know. What you did know was that he would know. You didn’t want to know what the consequences of that would be. So, you closed the door and went back to bed, making sure the light was left on and Lucip was with you.

Day three was the worst overall. Leon should be home that evening if his timeline was right, but you were bored by now, especially having no one to talk to, and were obscenely sick of cereal, sandwiches, and cold meatloaf. Movies couldn’t hold your attention, nor could reading. You opted to instead play some music out loud as you danced around the large house, sometimes picking up Lucip and swinging him around gently, before hugging him close to you.

The music cheered you up a little, but that was short lived when your heart nearly came out of your mouth from the size of the spider you saw on the wall. “Lucip no!” You shouted when the cat had darted after it, chasing it up the stairs. You were frozen, especially when you heard a door upstairs creaking open. You’d prayed and prayed that it was the bedroom door, but it was never that squeaky, and besides it was already open. Through wobbly legs you made your way upstairs, a shoe in hand in case you needed to help Lucip fend off any more undesirables. Much to your dismay, the attic door was open and Lucip was nowhere to be found - no doubt having followed the 8 legged thing up there. You attempted to get the cat to come down through any means that didn’t involve going inside. “Here kitty kitty. Pspspsps” You tried at the doorway. No luck . Shaking the food bowl. Nothing . Treats? No . What were you supposed to do now? Could you just wait until Leon got home? But how mad would Leon even be if he knew the cat had gone up there, would he take him from you? No! The very thought of losing what felt like your only friend, losing something that relied on you, you couldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t fail him like that. You just couldn’t, he was the ony ray of hope. A resounding crashing sound came from the room. Shit . If something important was up there…maybe you could pose it to Leon that you just wanted to keep the stuff safe from the cat? You’d been so behaved lately maybe you could beg for forgiveness and he’d be lenient with you?

Another crash came while you were pondering what to do. Shit . Shit . Maybe Leon was right, he’d given you too much freedom and now you were getting way ahead of yourself, but you could only think of the small feline you needed to protect.

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~Leon was at a red light that was taking an eternity to turn green, he’d have blown through it but he knew it was a camera-light. He was so anxious to get home, get back to you. Watching you dance around the house and play with the cat had him in a really good mood. He had full plans to wrap you in his arms, make a nice hot dinner – probably lecture you about those over-sized bites – and reward you for being so good while he was gone.

With the light still yet to change, he opted to pull his phone out and check on you one more time. When he watched you calling the cat from the attic his blood ran cold – the second your form disappeared behind the door, his foot hit the gas maxing out his speedometer to get home as quickly as he could.

Despite him driving like a maniac, he felt like he wasn’t going fast enough, time had slowed down for him. Even when he brought the Jeep to a skidded stop outside, his legs felt heavy as he fumbled the key to get inside and up the stairs, boots thumping loudly with each step.

The door was still ajar, and you weren’t in any of the visibly open rooms. “Hey Bunny, I’m back.” He did his best to mask anything that might scare you. “I’m coming into the attic, it’s okay. I’m not mad.”

As he came up the stairs, he dodge a heavy book that was thrown at his head. He sighed, this is exactly what he expected would happen. And there you were surrounded by computer monitors, some were playing back tapes from the security footage he’d take at your old apartment.

In your hand you were gripping a manila folder with giant red print on it “SHULTZ CLASSIFIED.” In your other hand he watched in horror as you held a sharp piece of broken glass, your hand was shaking while it bled.

“I’m not fucking crazy! You made me think I was crazy, but I’m not crazy! Derek was real. He was my boyfriend, and he was real . You’ve been stalking me for over a year, you sick freak!”

“C’mon baby, lets talk ok? There’s no reason to be so upset.” Leon put one hand out like he was walking towards a cornered animal. He was assessing things as he went, trying to determine the best course of action. He might be able to use the collar, but he was concerned you’d hurt yourself more falling into the broken glass on the floor. His best bet was to get over there and disarm you, but he had to tread carefully, not wanting to push you over the edge before he could.

“Take me home.”

“Bunny, you are home.”

“Please, Leon, please take me back home to my real home. I miss my friends and family, I’m sure they miss me too. I know I’m not crazy now, so…”

“Bunny –” He took a slow step closer.

“If you don’t I’ll kill myself. I will, right now.”

“Let’s not talk like that, alright? You’re not being rational right now.” He took another slow step forward, hands still raised. In a sign of a truce, he unbuckled his knife and tossed it to the side, along with his guns and even the remote to the shock collar. “See honey? I don’t want to hurt you, it’s okay.”

Quick contemplation crossed your face. “Let’s go together then. Please…please I can introduce you as my boyfriend. They’d love you, really. I won’t tell them about this or anything I swear.”

Poor Bunny, negotiating isn’t going to work, it’s cute you tried though. Leon nodded anyway, taking another baby step closer. He just needed you to let down your guard for a moment, just a brief moment. “If that’s what you really want, we can probably work something out, ok? But you won’t be going anywhere if you hurt yourself. Do you want your family to know you killed yourself?”

The second you lowered the glass just slightly away from your neck, Leon took his move, grabbing your wrist so tightly you were forced to drop the glass. “See? It’s ok.”

“Please…please Leon I just want to go home. I just want to see them. I’m not crazy. I won’t report you or say anything. I can go back to work, we can go back to being neighbors.”

He brought his free hand up to cup your face. “Oh poor Bunny. You don’t understand, you don’t exist anymore.”

“What?”

“You heard me, baby. You don’t exist. You don’t have any friends or family. You’re not even a ghost - you simply don’t exist outside of this property.“

“No..no way–”

“Yes way baby. You should know, you’re the one who ran ragged trying to find a single person who remembered –I won't even dignify his name — did you really think I wasn’t going to do the same to you? Though honestly this is for your own protection”

“My friends and family, they don’t know who I am anymore?”

“No. They don’t know you, they’ve never heard of you, they’ve never met you.. Let me be doubly clear, you don’t exist to anyone outside of me and the cat.” Leon was treading carefully now, this wasn’t the outcome he expected. He’d have to think about how he wanted to proceed long term now that you knew some of what happened. For right now though you were scared and bleeding. He decided to continue to act with caution, but not without regaining some control, especially when that look of terror appeared in your eyes upon Lucipurr bolting out of the room. It was clear that it occurred to you the cat was all you now had besides Leon.

“Hey, shhhh. You know what? Like I said, I’m not even mad alright? I’m not mad. You were so good the whole time I was gone. I know you only came up here because of the cat. That’s my fault for leaving the door unlocked.” He tugged the classified folder from your hand, setting it down on the desk next to them. “No time out, no punishment. Just come with me, let’s get you cleaned up.”

When you didn’t move he pulled you into a tight hug changing strategies. “You don’t want to leave Lucip all alone do you?” He felt you shake your head against him. “Good. And you don’t want Lucipurr to have to die because you can’t behave, right?” You froze. That’s exactly what he wanted.

“Bunny, I asked you a question. You wouldn’t want the cat to die because of you, would you?”

“N-no.”

“Good, then I urge you to think about what might happen to Lucipurr if you decide to pull something like this again, it would really be sad if he had to die because you weren’t around anymore to take care of him.” Despite the open threat, he opted to rub your back still coaxing you to follow him out of the room. “Good girl. See? I told you, I’m not mad, don’t be scared. We’re just going to get you cleaned up. Shhhh.” He led you gently out of the attic and down to the bathroom, all the while thinking about his next steps.

271 notes · View notes

comphy-and-cozy · 9 months

Text

unforgettable - jt compher

Pairing: JT Compher x Reader (f)

Word Count: 3.1K

Author's Note: This is fully the most self-indulgent and personal fic I have ever and will ever write, so if no one likes it I'm still not gonna be sorry. This is wildly contrived and barely passable as realistic. It is quite literally Y/N's Story (C's Version). You'll know what I mean when you read it. Thanks to @smileysvech for listening to me be unhinged about this for like two months straight - you a real one. And in case you are wondering, this is the fic in question.

Warnings: Suggestive/adult content (18+ recommended), discussions about sex/sexual implications, alcohol use/consumption, full insanity. Like a medium burn/banter that's basically foreplay but no actual sexy times.

series masterlist | nhl masterlist | part 2

November 2021

Meeting a personal idol is always a special experience, full of excitement, nerves, anticipation; hopefully making a connection to tell them how much you admire them or what they mean to you. Even if it’s the intention, it feels a little embarrassing to be at a fan event put on by the team, like you’re too old to be at a function for the sole purpose of meeting professional hockey players, and the concept of being perceived is, frankly, almost overwhelming.

But then they turn out to be kind, funny, and courteous; not at all what you expected. They smile at you, ask you your name, thank you for coming, engage with you like you’re a regular human being. Like they’re a regular human being. (They are, of course, but it’s difficult to comprehend that when you’re used to them being little men on your television screen with ice knives strapped to their feet.)

When you get to your favorite TV Ice Man, he’s beautiful, and it takes you a moment to get rid of the shakiness in your voice when you hear him say your name for the first time. The warmth of his hand on your back when you pose for a photo together lingers long after he pulls away, smiling at you as he says, “Tag me in that on Instagram.”

It’s exhilarating, enough to have you bouncing from cloud to cloud as you leave, heart soaring. Still, after walking out on shaky legs with the most precious memories and photos tucked safely into your phone, you’re in need of a drink to settle the nerves that have been floating in your belly since the night began.

As soon as it touches your tongue, the drink helps to calm you down, and you’re in a dreamland as you reflect on the evening behind you. A real conversation with JT Compher, the man you’ve had a crush on for years—and he talked to you! He is aware you exist! And though you’re sure it’s a figment of your imagination, you’ll remember the warmth in his eyes when they connected with yours for the rest of your life.

Luck is on your side, it seems, when you catch a group of tall, muscular men walking in out of the corner of your eye; the aura of the room instantly changes in their presence, like the room automatically got ten degrees hotter. In the middle of the pack is the unmistakable red hair, styled meticulously, only now he’s lost his tie in favor of unbuttoning the top button on his shirt. He looks good, dressed down in a way that makes him look even more delicious than before.

His aura is different now that the event is over, like he’s able to remove the mask he put on for the public at a work event; now, he’s just a normal guy out on a Friday night with his friends. Other than the Gucci belt and Tom Ford suit, one would have no idea that he’s got an extra digit at the end of his paycheck, and he loves that.

Until he sees you. You, who knows exactly who he is, who is fully aware he’s unwinding from a long and tiring fan event with his friends. He’d have to be an idiot to forget your face, the one that made him pause when you told him your name, his breath hitching in his throat just for a moment.

When he sidles up next to you at the bar, the last thing you expect is for him to greet you, let alone remember your name. You look at him in surprise when he offers to buy your drink, gaping for a little too long until you’re nodding shyly.

“Have fun at the event?” he asks after sliding his card across the bar to open a tab, leaning up against the ornate marble as he faces you.

“It was incredible,” you reply with a blissful smile. “They—you guys—are always so nice.”

The corners of his lips curl upward, just slightly, pleased at your positive review. “I’m glad to hear that. The fans are so important to us, so I—we—like to be able to give back when we can.”

“It doesn’t get exhausting? Talking to all those people?”

Something shifts in his eyes, and briefly you wonder if he’s toying with the line of talking to a fan versus just a stranger, contemplating if he should drop a layer of his public persona. Eyeing the extra sliver of creamy skin peeking out from his unbuttoned collar, you’d say he’s already halfway there.

“It can be a lot,” he admits. “But it really is fun. And very humbling.”

Your drink is placed on the bar in front of you, and the bartender nods at JT when he asks to keep the tab open. Your heart does a flip, but you remind yourself he’s here with friends.

“How long have you been a fan?”

“I’ve been watching hockey since I was a kid,” you say, and he nods in understanding. You tell him of the photos of you as a toddler, standing in your neon windbreaker next to the Stanley Cup; you note the way his eyes glitter when you mention it, like he’s wistfully envisioning the day he’ll lift the trophy himself. You note the way you like it.

“Let me guess. Your favorite player was Joe Sakic.”

“Actually, you might hate this, but my favorite player was Steve Yzerman.”

JT’s eyebrows raise as he shrugs. “Hard to argue with that, even if he did beat the Avs. Are you a Wings fan?”

“I went to U of M, so I went to a lot of games when I lived in Ann Arbor. So I think I am by default.”

You can see his eyes shift at the mention of his alma mater, like something’s permanently altered in the dynamic between you. He doesn’t need to tell you that he went there, too, but he does anyway. “Go Blue.”

With a smirk, you raise your glass and clink the base against his as you say it back. Your eyes flick to the group he arrived with, upstairs in the VIP area, surrounded by pretty girls in tight skirts.

“Do you need to get back to them?”

JT takes a sip of his own drink, an Old Fashioned, then licks his lips again like he knows it’ll catch your attention. Then he shrugs, nonchalant. “Would rather stay here with you. Have to make sure the drink I paid for doesn’t go to waste.”

He’s too smooth, you think, warning yourself to keep an eye on him or you’d be swooning at his feet. Not that you aren’t already ready to, your own willpower barely holding up under his gaze and your Amaretto Sour weaving its way into your senses.

“What’s a Wings fan doing in Denver?”

It’s a simple question, the logical one, but you’re still surprised that he asks, that he wants to know more about the one of many fans he met tonight. Still, you answer, explain that you’re visiting friends who are big Avs fans. You don’t have it in you to tell him that you’ve had a crush on him for years, that you timed your visit to coincide with the event. That you’re having an internal meltdown just existing in his presence and trying desperately hard to remain cool and composed.

And you can’t tell if he’s flirting with you, or if he’s just being nice, which makes you panic even more, gulping down the remainder of your drink in an attempt to calm your nerves. Do his eyes keep shifting down to your cleavage, or is that your imagination? Is he letting his cheek brush against yours when he speaks into your ear, or is it just an accident?

Another round of drinks later, and he’s still here, and now you’re sure he’s at least some kind of interested. His friends are upstairs, loud, rambunctious, and he hasn’t even given them so much as a glance, instead focused on you and making you shiver under his attention.

The conversation has been steady, making its way through hockey, past childhood, and college, and jobs, and now you’re onto hobbies. And you may have accidentally let it slip that you like to write.

It’s against your own will that your mouth announces, out loud, to a professional athlete, that you write hockey fanfiction. Or, wrote. Have written. Either way, it’s the alcohol’s fault, and you’re tempted to dump the remaining contents of your glass on the ground to avoid saying anything else.

His eyebrows raise in amusement, a grin breaking out onto his face. “Oh, now you have to tell me more.”

You’re shaking your head no, face sweltering hot when you realize what you’ve just admitted. “Jesus Christ. I can’t believe I just said that. I think this conversation is done.”

“Aww, come on, tell me,” he prods, nudging your knee with his. “Was it about someone I know?”

You draw your lips tight, shaking your head to tell him your lips are sealed.

“It was!” he exclaims, his eyes lighting up. “I bet it was about Gabe. Wasn’t it? All the girls love Gabe. He’s a dreamboat.”

Covering your mouth with your hand, you shake your head at him again. This cannot be fucking happening right now.

“No Gabe? Hm…” he looks around, as if he’s searching for the subject in front of him. “Oh! Josty. He’s got a whole following of fangirls.”

Part of you wants to laugh, and the other part of you wants to die immediately on the spot, buried beneath the ground without another word. He isn’t wrong, but he is dangerously close to discovering the truth.

He sees your reaction, inferring that no, it wasn’t Josty, and he takes another sip of his drink as he racks his brain. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, mulling over the options like he’s mentally running through an encyclopedia of NHL players. Then, his eyes shift, a glitter returning to them before they’re landing back on you, and suddenly you feel hot all over, sensing the end of your life hurtling rapidly towards you.

“It’s me, isn’t it?”

Face scorching hot, you can’t help the defeated smile on your face as you cast your eyes away, mortified beyond belief. Why did you have to say anything? Things were going so well, and now you’re preparing for him to make a quick exit and dash upstairs to laugh at you with his teammates, a story that would surely make the rounds through the league. You’re contemplating which path to the door is quickest, which will get you out of there fast enough to avoid dying of embarrassment on the spot.

But instead of making a run for it, he just laughs, a surprised expression on his face. “Oh, my God.”

“I’m just gonna go now—”

“No, no,” he’s quick to say, waving his hand to show he isn’t bothered, and maybe an air of, please, stay. “I’m flattered, honestly. I didn’t think anyone liked me like that.”

Oh, they do, you think, but your semblance of self-control has taken over again, covering your mouth before the thought can verbalize; at least you can shut the fuck up sometimes. Instead, you shrug playfully, then take another sip, thinking that at the very least, you can drown out your humiliation with more alcohol.

“You gonna tell me what it was about, or you playing hard to get?”

His question is subtle but clearly twofold in meaning, and you nearly choke on your drink again. Is this real? This has to be a dream.

Forcing yourself to get your wits together, you say, “I’m gonna need another drink if you want to even remotely convince me to share that.”

“I can do that,” he grins. “Say no more.”

It’s only after he returns with another drink in hand that you notice the flush in his cheeks, the way the warm mahogany of his eyes have turned a little more molten. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe—unlikely—it’s you. Probably the former. Surely the former.

He keeps the conversation light, allowing you to ask about life as an NHL star, about his favorite part about Denver, about who his funniest teammate is. He’s surprised, though, when you ask what he misses the most about life before the NHL; what he wishes he could have amidst the fanfare of being a professional athlete.

Mulling over your question, he takes another sip of his cocktail, and you seize the opportunity to admire his face, up close. The neat landscaping of his beard, the perfectly styled coiff of his hair, the deep mauvey-pink shade of his lips. God, he’s handsome.

His laugh pulls you out of your daydream, and he raises his glass toward you. “Thank you.”

You’re confused for a moment, until you realize that your thought wasn’t an internal commentary at all, but something that slipped out of your mouth by accident. You have quite literally turned into a stuttering, bumbling fool in his presence. He doesn’t seem bothered, though, swiftly moving past the moment to answer: “Honestly, I think what I miss most are conversations like this. Where I don’t have to be ‘on,’ where I can just be a normal guy with a pretty girl at a bar.”

“A girl telling you she wrote smutty fanfiction about you is ‘normal’?”

JT’s face shifts, and all at once you realize the additional descriptor you used, immediately groaning at the accidental admission. Why do you keep doing this? Why does it have to be him?

“Smutty? Like, it’s spicy?”

“No,” you lie, but the speed of your reply is a dead giveaway, and suddenly he’s grinning.

“You wrote—” he drops his voice to a whisper, “—sexy times about me?”

Your non-answer is an answer in itself, and the smile on his face is so wide, he might as well have won the Stanley Cup. Your face burns, could probably fry an egg on your cheeks, ready to slink into a hole and never come out.

“Oh, come on, now you have to tell me!” he says. “I won’t judge. I swear.”

“I’m sorry, that information is classified. It’s firmly secured under lock, key, and shark-infested waters with lasers attached to their heads.”

“Okay, fine, I can play this game,” he grins, pretending to crack his knuckles. “Was there… a blowjob?”

“Jesus, JT. Coming in hot, are you?” Then, “No.”

“That hurts, but I understand,” he places his hand over his heart. “What about… cunnlingus?”

“I am shocked that you know what that word means.”

“I have an elite education. You should know.”

“The leaders and best,” you say with a raised glass.

“Stop deflecting. Did I eat you out or not?”

The intimacy and bluntness of the phrasing makes your heart flutter, along with the area in question. The devil on your shoulder is whispering, fuck around and find out. So, with an internal shrug, you do. “You may have.”

JT beams. “Excellent.”

He rapid fires off more categories—spanking, handcuffs, edging, foot fetish?—all of which make your cheeks burn the more he inquires, as casual as asking you about what you do for a living.

“Threesome?”

“No.”

He hums. “Good. I didn’t want to share.”

The admission catches you off-guard, and judging by the way he eyes you for your reaction, he said it intentionally to rile you up. You hope he can’t see the rapid way your heart beats in your throat, the idea that this professional athlete would ever be possessive over a fan with a crush.

His last question pulls you from your thoughts and also makes you nearly snort your drink out of your nose. “Anal?”

“Jim Tim, I’m really gonna need you to cool it with topics I’m wildly unprepared to discuss.”

“That sounds like you’ll be ready at some point, though.”

“Maybe if you call me in about 100 years, I will be.”

He hums, then swirls the ice left in his glass. “What about the time it takes me to cash out and Uber back to mine?”

Your brain completely shuts down at the invitation, the proposition striking you in the face. He couldn’t have seriously been flirting with you this entire time, could he? Surely, he was just being silly with a girl—a fan—who he’ll never see again?

But he’s looking at you, and it feels like the time has long since passed if he was going to announce that it’s all been a joke. He’s waiting for your reply, for a confirmation that all of his hard work and perfect banter has not gone to waste.

So you nod, letting out a loud sigh as soon as his red hair disappears back into the crowd to pay his tab. Your hands are shaking, your heart threatening to leap out of your throat, and you glance around like everyone is going to start laughing at you for believing that JT Compher would want to take you home.

JT’s skin tingles as he signs his check, nodding a ‘thank you’ at the bartender before pocketing his wallet. This wasn’t what he expected when he prepped himself for the event tonight; he anticipated photos, nervous fans, hand aching from signing so many hats and jerseys—and afterward, decompressing at the bar with the guys, having a few drinks, guffawing along as Bo surely makes a fool of himself. Instead, he feels like he’s been smacked in the face, in awe of the girl he met and promptly learned he can’t get enough of. It’s only been a few hours, but he’s hooked on her smile, on her quick wit, on the way she makes his cock twitch in his pants when she laughs.

He yearns to be with her, now, to try his chances at feeling her pretty lips on his, to get a better glimpse at the jeans she painted on over the tempting curve of her hips. Though he’s confident—she wrote fanfiction about him for Christ’s sake—it’s far from a slam-dunk, but he’s eager to embrace the challenge ahead, and equally content to just spend more time basking in her presence.

But when he returns to the spot he left her at, she’s nowhere to be found. He scans the crowd, searching for the eyes that have captivated him so deeply. A tinge of nerves blaze through him, the thought of being ghosted flitting through his brain, but then he remembers the way she looked at him, the way her breath hitched when he leaned in close to her.

So, he searches for her, sure she’s just stepped away for a moment. He checks the bar, the restroom, the front door, the back door—nothing. And then he finally accepts the truth: She’s gone, disappeared without a word, far too good to be true.

JT Ubers home alone, left to quell the burning in his gut in the somber solidarity of his bedroom, wistfully wondering if your paths will cross again someday.

SIMILAR CONTENT: Already Ready to Go* A Night in Paris* Adore You

Tagging: @somuchf4rstardust @laurenairay @senditcolton @fallinallincurls

#jt compher fic #jt compher imagine #jt compher x reader #hockey fic #nhl imagine #jt compher fanfiction #jt compher smut #nhl fic #hockey imagine #a dream come true

72 notes · View notes

axel-skz · 10 months

Text

SEUNGMIN IN THE BUILDING!

A/N: I wrote this half asleep 😭 I keep changing my idea for the Felix story so I moved up posting Seungmins. I love this one-shot though, it’s so cute. Right, now, song roulette. AA WE GOT ‘WAITING FOR US’! I feel like it’s been too long since I listened to it. Damn.

(No cus why is he so cute? Who allowed him to be this cute? I think he would kill me if I ever actually called him cute.)

You and Seungmin had been together for a couple months now. It was heaven.

You didn’t realise heaven was this sarcastic but it was heaven nonetheless.

You both enjoyed each other’s company a lot so you spent, some would say, too much time together. Jeongin would see you and smirk, always comedically checking the surrounding area to see where Seungmin was.

It was annoying that he would be right about his jokes and Seungmin was always right there.

One day, you both were doing your own things but like, in the same room. Because where else would you be? He was… harassing one of the members over text while watching TV. You were gaming.

You guys hadn’t used pet names at all yet (aside from you calling him Minnie) so what came now… embarrassed you to no end.

‘Baby, can you pass me my drink,’ you stupidly said while being too distracted by a part in your game to notice.

Seungmin, the cute little menace, smirked. Now he has ammunition.

‘Am I tiny? Am I bald?’ He replied, unmoving.

‘What? Is that a riddle or something?’ You paused your game to look at him in confusion.

‘You called me baby, what makes you say that?’ He grinned, resting his head on his palm.

You began to turn more and more red, ‘I did not!’ Yeah, lying seems like a great option right now.

‘Are you… saying my ears are broken? I’m picking up soundwaves from the neighbourhood? Like a bat? ARE YOU SAYING I’M BATMAN?!’ He gasped dramatically.

You stared at him blankly, ‘sometimes I think back to when I asked you out and I wish someone had run me over so I didn’t.’

‘I’m batman apparently so I wouldn’t have let that happen, sugar bear,’ he seemed a little too eager now.

‘Omg, why are you this way?,’ you whined as you covered your face.

‘I don’t know what you mean, honey nugget, I thought this was what we were doing now,’ you glared at him.

‘It slipped out, ok?! Can we forget it please??’

‘Your baby just slipped out? Wow, wierd of you tell me that. Bit Tmi.’

You got up and walked over to him. He had this smug smile on his face. He also looked confused about what you were planning.

You sat next to him then suddenly started tickling him.

He hated that and you knew it. Giggles escaped his mouth and he couldn’t look mad while he was laughing his ass off.

Eventually you stopped, ‘had enough, sugar bear?’

‘Ok, ok! Yes, I’ll stop now,’ he glared at you so you booped his nose and he blushed.

It made you laugh as you got up and went to get your water.

You heard him say something but couldn’t make it out, you poked your head back to look in the living room, ‘what?’

He was blushing like crazy and looking anywhere but you as he spoke, ‘you can call me baby or whatever if you want…’

You smiled and didn’t tease him too much about it, ‘that sounds nice Minnie. You can call me sugar bear or whatever.’

He laughed a little and then continued with whatever he was doing on his phone. The rest of the night passed without a sugar bear or a honey nugget being mentioned :)

Seungmin: You are right. *he’s suddenly stood behind me with an axe in his hand (lol, get it? Axe, Axel, Axe, Axel? Ok yeah, I think you get it)* I would kill you.

We can talk about this… I swear… I only called you cute because… of… umm… hold on, wait… I swear I can think up a good reason…

Seungmin: TIMES UP!

insert high speed chase here

Meanwhile, the boys on the side, sit with popcorn and drinks.

Minho: if he doesn’t catch her, I’ll be very disappointed, I taught him better then that.

Bang chan: you know, this is why I don’t leave him alone with you anymore.

Minho shrugs: fair.

They all start cheering as he slowly catches up but then aw as he falls back again.

YOU GUYS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE MY FRIENDS TOO! WHY AM I ALWAYS IN DANGER WHEN I’M AROUND YOU!

Felix: if you live, I’ll bake you something!

Oh damn, totally worth it.

And suddenly I’m Usain Bolt.

83 notes · View notes

gnomeniche · 2 years

Text

director, writer, actor: dhmis's students as creatives

hey guys. i would like to propose the idea that the three protagonists of dhmis represent different creative roles involved in the production of television. red represents a director, yellow represents a writer, and duck represents an actor.

this theory is somewhat similar to the "generations" theory, but with creative roles instead, as both are more fun lenses to look at the three through than actual theories about the future or past of the story. i am not saying that they are LITERALLY these roles (F*LM THEORY DO NOT INTERACT).

but! by looking at the imagery associated with them and what the former two found when they breached the reality of their world (in webseries and tv show), i can make a case for the idea that they REPRESENT them.

(i originally floated this idea in this post, where i said it was extremely underbaked, but i am baking it Right Now. it is occupying my brain and i am obsessed with it.)

the director: red and the tv machine

in the webseries, red discovers the nature of their reality by accidentally stumbling into a set-version of their kitchen and seeing the cameras that film their world. when he breaches reality in "dreams", he finds a "tv machine" made of screens showing the world he once lived in. he finds that he can edit aspects of the world when he messes with the machine, swapping out characters and setpieces, one which is the idea he floated earlier in the episode.

red’s version of the “backstage” is electric, filled with glowing screens and machinery. this and the imagery of screens, sets, edits, and cameras bring to mind a director. red's phone motif could be read as relating to the need for directors to arrange and communicate with every piece of the production, and he literally moves things around the set in production on the machine. the higher power he discovers is roy, often interpreted as a producer, who directors work with to get productions made.

what does red want? he's sick of his awful reality. he wants something nicer, something he can control, something that isn't here. you could say that he wants a change of scenery. or a Scene Change, as it were. he wants to decide what he gets to do, and if he isn't given something to hold his interest, he re-Directs the episodes in his attempts to leave. he discovers their reality while searching for an alternative route in the "computers" lesson, and he hijacks the "transport" lesson to escape.

he has a minor association with ears, as an ear was taken from him in the kickstarter videos, and what is a phone but another way to listen? read alongside his desires, he ultimately wants others to “Listen To Me.” a director’s job is to give directions and make decisions by hearing out collaborators’ feedback.

the world the three of them live in has an interest in crushing each of their specific kinds of creativity, so despite red's inclinations, he is not able to direct anything. he has been assigned the role of "the apathetic one," or the one who does not make decisions or visualize anything more. even outside his role, red's trauma from the lessons leads to him being reluctant to speak about what he wants, so he often remains silent about his desires until he cannot help it anymore. but when he tries to assert his will, everything tells him he is wrong for doing so. the world shows him that all he will find if he tries to make his own decisions is nothing new or interesting, just bleak hopelessness.

in "dreams," red's failures in the "real world" are because he cannot convey his ideas alone. he has plenty of ideas, sure! but he has trouble solidifying them into words and performing them well. when he finds the media machine, he is restricted in what he can do by the "scripts" and "actors" he is given by the show. a director can be as inventive in his craft as he wants; without a script or actors to work with, his ideas are mere shadows.

the writer: yellow and the show bible

in the tv show, one of the first things yellow does on new batteries is discover the sigils seen in the background throughout the show and on lesley's book. he writes in the language composing their world. when he breaches reality in "electricity," he goes up through unrealized future ideas for the show and assists lesley, the "showrunner," from whom he receives a "show bible."

yellow’s version of the “backstage” is organic, filled with music and art. this and the imagery of books, writing, ideas, and symbols bring to mind a writer. plus, yellow is the most artistically adept of the trio, shown by his clown painting, trumpet-playing, and entire cast of imaginary friends. this imaginative streak lends itself to writing fiction. the higher power he discovers is lesley, often interpreted as a showrunner, whose ideas show writers must attend to.

what does yellow want? he's shown to be the most interested in the lessons, and what he wants when he gets his batteries is to know more. he's hungry for new ideas, and he's dissatisfied with pointless learning. the point he wants, since he begs to stay with lesley, is to get to create. he wants to learn from the writing around him and then try it himself. it's just that his lack of batteries prevents him from thinking. a blocked writer, so to speak.

he has a minor association with hands, as a finger was taken from him in the kickstarter videos and his hands often get messed up in the show. read alongside his desires, he ultimately wants others to “Make Things With Me.” a writer’s job is to use their hands to make ideas into something solid.

the world the three of them live in has an interest in crushing each of their specific kinds of creativity, so despite yellow's inclinations, he is not able to write anything. he has been assigned the role of "the stupid one," or the one who never thinks about anything or comes up with anything new. even outside his role, yellow is quite literally prevented from thinking, reading, or writing by his corroded batteries, so he tries to be creative in any other way he can. but when he tries to do anything artistic, everything around him insults and destroys his efforts. the world tells him that his desire to create is pointless because his ideas are worthless.

in “electricity,” yellow's failure to inform his friends is because they do not take him seriously. they ignore what he wants to tell them in favor of their priorities, and the "show bible" is rendered something shreddable. one of a writer's greatest challenges is getting people to care about their words. if directors or actors fail to take interest in their writing, the script may as well be garbage.

the actor: duck and the viewers' eyes

so where does that leave duck? he has not had an episode where he (successfully) breaches reality yet (RIP webseries duck, 2011-2015), but i can still make the case with what we have that he represents an actor.

throughout the tv show, duck makes the most of his roles unless they conflict with his preconception of what is supposed to happen in the episode. he is enthusiastic about "jobs" until it seems like the lesson has been thrown off, at which point he is stubborn about returning to the earlier script. in "death" and "transport," he adapts easily and with a sense of humor to the role he is given. if he's dead, he's dead, but that doesn't mean a character like him can't annoy the reaper! if the lesson was on transport anyway, there's no trouble with going along with the road trip escape, as long as he stays in-character! he manages to twist his part in new directions without technically straying outside the role and provoking backlash from the world. (and even in "death", he was killed. but he became his own replacement anyway, so it was... fine?)

close attention to the script that you were given, as well as using interpretation while still playing the part well, are qualities of a good actor. also, he seems to feel at more home on the set than his friends. he has the most charismatic presence in the trio, and even when he is uncomfortable with the situations happening, the home-set itself is a place he likes. also, his personality is dramatic, expressive, and egotistical, which are all stereotypes of actors.

though it seems like duck is doing fine at expressing his creative inclination to act, i will argue that in duck, the world tries to crush a way that actors can be creative within a role: by putting their own self/feelings into the character. he has been assigned the role of "the uptight one," or the one who never strays from expectations or expresses feelings against the grain. even outside his role, duck's trauma from the lessons has rendered him afraid to act or think independently, so he only expresses his true feelings from behind the veneer of the role. but when he can no longer take the pain and must express himself, everything around him tries to destroy him entirely and violently. the world tells him that his self, his thoughts, and his feelings are an unneeded hindrance to proper fulfillment of the role.

the idea of attention to role relates to both his want and his failure. duck wants to survive this show and remain with his friends, so he makes the most of what the show gives him. but this ties him ONLY to what he is given, as despite all their interpretation, an actor who is not improvising but playing a particular role on a show needs material to work with in interpreting their character. they need to know the script and work with the director.

he also has a lot of motifs that could play into him representing an "actor"

he keeps losing one of his eyes. an actor is always subject to someone else's gaze, even as they interpret the role through their own eyes. these are the eyes of everyone who views their performance. he even has some fourth-wall-breaking lines related to this (though i doubt he means them with literal knowledge). "i'm the best one," the favorite of the audience. "people want to know what your final guess would have been." "what people?" the audience, of course. his association with eyes could say “Watch Me”

his repeated deaths and replacements could allude to shifting from role to role, as the mechanics of the show-world mean that duck's essence shifts from body to body.

green, his main color, is allegedly uncreative, and though actors are absolutely creatives themselves, some may see them as mere subordinates to directors/writers and an outlet for their creative voices. this might also relate to his repeated deaths; sometimes, overbearing higher-ups on productions might demand that they perform something a certain way and treat them poorly or replace them if they do not.

and keeping this in mind, i’m curious to see what he may discover when he finally succeeds in breaching reality.

the three of them and the creative team

on a tv show, all these roles are replacable. directors and writers change from episode to episode, and actors can leave or get written out. they are all beholden to powers higher than them, whether it's the showrunner or the execs, and they must please if they are to remain on the show. the trio are repeatedly replaced when they die, and they are literally living under higher powers that punish them for doing things wrong.

though they are restricted by the show they are in, the three of them all have creative potential within them. whenever one gain some kind of autonomy, we see this potential bloom: red starts conceptualizing scenes, yellow starts analyzing and writing. but all alone, the student who tries to break free cannot truly gain control over their world. they fall back into the cycle due to either their own failures or those of others.

i've emphasized how each of these creative types, assuming that they do not overlap in one person, cannot create a show on its own. it is the same for these three: they cannot find a solution to their suffering alone. if they want to control the television show of their lives, they must work together. they need to become creators, not just students, and they need each other to do that.

other tidbits

this is just to end this with something fun!

red and duck are closer to each other than yellow. directors and actors work closely together while shooting and thus speak with each other often. i could make a joke about them losing focus and having a consensual workplace relationship here but i won't

yellow and duck seem to have a contentious relationship, but they both get along fairly well with red. i do not know if the writer and the actor often interact in production. however, i feel like both interact with the director more than the other.

red listens more to yellow’s ideas than duck does. though both actors and directors need to be on board with the script, the director is more often the one who decides to make a script a reality.

red is the largest one. the director is often seen as the biggest player in creating a work of film, though again, it is a collaborative process and auteurship is fake. also, red is in the driver's seat throughout "transport" and becomes the boss in "jobs".

duck seems more at home in front of the camera than red, who is uncomfortable with eyes on him, and he is faster to pick up on negative changes in situation than yellow, who must observe and think things through first. you could read this as red-as-director feeling more comfortable behind the camera than in front of it and yellow-as-writer needing to really work through an idea before feeling comfortable putting it out there, whereas duck-as-actor is okay with people watching him and better on the spot when something goes wrong.

(last edited Nov 21, 2022. will continue to be edited as more ideas come to mind)

#dhmis #dhmis theory #dhmis analysis #i am PROUD of this one pls read it. even though it is a longboy #am.txt

214 notes · View notes

bangchanbabygurl · 7 months

Text

Shameless 08| If We Listen

Genre: Dark romance/horror/smut/angst/thriller/mystery

Warnings: Explicit language/mention of domestic violence/mention of violence/alcohol abuse/mention of death/stalker/mentions of blood/drug abuse/smut scenes/dark mature themes/triggering scenes/traumatic experiences

Word count: 1112

I look at the laptop screen, typing up a new email for one of Mr. Hwang's investors, Leon Modeling. I pour myself another cup of coffee before continuing to edit and proofread the email Hyunjin had given me Friday and the weekend off. He wanted me to have time to myself and grieve in my home rather than be miserable at the office; I was okay with being alone right now. But it feels so strange not having Adonis around; it felt empty and quiet. I looked at the time--9:40 PM; Hyunjin had called early, letting me know he would swing by after work. I immensely enjoy his company; it made me feel less lonely. Sarah and Violet have been working extra late at Seo's Club; with October coming up, the clubs has been getting busy.

I sent the email and closed the laptop before getting up from the dining table; I placed the empty mug in the sink. I double-checked that all the windows and doors were locked. There haven't been any weird creep events since last week, and I'm glad but still paranoid.

I lay on the couch and turned the TV on; my eyes wandered around the living room. It's empty, feels empty...I can't believe Adonis is gone. I've had him since he was a pup, and now he's gone, I rest my head on his favorite pillow that he used to sleep on. I bring the blanket up to my chin and let the tears fall; it hurts. Adonis was my everything, and I spent my whole life with him. Now, it feels so empty and lonely without him; my lips quiver as a sob escapes. I look at the TV, not caring about it whatsoever. I want Adonis back, but that's not gonna happen.

I was startled upon hearing knocking at the front door; I wiped away the tears and got up from the couch. I walk over to the front door, peeking through the side window to see Hyunjin. I unlock the door. "Are you feeling okay?" He asked, walking inside the house closing and locking the door behind him. I walk back into the living room and curl up on the couch. Hyunjin removed his blazer, setting it on the couch's armrest, "I'm fine..." I said, forcing a small smile. Hyunjin was a hard person to convince when it came to emotions, "Your eyes are red and puffy, Y/N," He said, sitting on the couch. I let a small chuckle leave my lips as I turned my attention to the TV; some horror movie was playing. I felt the side of the couch by me dip lightly, "It's nothing to worry about," I uttered.

Hyunjin managed to get me into his arms as we sat silently, probably not even paying attention to the movie; my head was resting on his shoulder.

Hyunjin began to play softly with my hair as we watched the TV, "What made you get into business?" Hyunjin asked. I bite my bottom lip, "It was my only option," I said. I pull the blanket closer to me, "Your only option?" Hyunjin asked as he held me closer. "My parents gave me two options...either I do something financially successful or get married to Francis Deville, so I picked business." I said, letting out a tired sigh. Hyunjin had muted the TV, "You're doing business because your parents wanted you to marry someone financially stable?" He asked, looking at me with eyes I couldn't read or explain.

I nodded, "Yeah, my parents have always loved the idea of controlling my siblings and my life, but of course, when I had turned nineteen, I broke out of their control by ru—moving out." I said, sitting up and getting up from the couch. "Y/N...you ran away from home? How long have you been living in Seoul? Have your parents tried getting in contact with you?" Hyunjin gave question after question; I looked at him. "Does that even matter, Hyunjin?" I asked, starting to feel annoyed just by talking about my parents.

"Don't you think your parents are worried?" Hyunjin asked. I let out a laugh and looked at him with an amused smile. "Worried? Hyunjin, there's so much about my life you don't know." I stated, I folded the blanket and set it on the couch. "My parents never cared about me; as the third oldest of the family, all they cared about was marrying me to some rich guy," I said, sighing.

Hyunjin seemed concerned and perplexed, "When I was in high school, I had bad habits—addictions. I was partying, drinking alcohol like there's no tomorrow, and stuffing my nose with coke. During my sophomore year, I realized that I needed to get out of that dark place, so I went to my parents wanting help....only for them to throw me into some rehabilitation run by a Christian church when my parents were Catholics." I said, wiping away my useless tears. I rolled my shirt sleeves up, revealing the scars and old wounds I had done to myself in the past, "I wasn't okay; that rehabilitation was a living hell for me. My parents didn't care if I lived or killed myself. All they cared about was their reputation and their greed for wealth." I said.

Hyunjin's eyes were glossy and filled with empathy, "That is why I ran away from home and escaped to Seoul, and I'm better off not having to worry about them at all." I admitted. Hyunjin's grip on my arms was tender; the way he inspected the scars was so careful and gentle. Hyunjin pressed soft kisses on the wounds; I gave him a dazed expression. "I'm sorry," He whispered, tears covering his glass-like skin. I shook my head in response, "I'm sorry for not realizing that you were once in a dark place; I'm sorry for pushing you..." Hyunjin whispers. I wipe away his tears, "It's okay, you didn't know." I said.

Hyunjin pulls me against his chest, his arms wrapped around me. His warmth swallowed me whole as his empathy made me wonder if he had been in a dark place. I wrap my arms around his waist, closing the distance between us. "Are you okay?" He whispered, I smiled softly. "I am now," I said, I looked up at him. Hyunjin smiles, "I'm glad, I worry about you...a lot," He said. I smiled, "You don't have to," I said. Hyunjin pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, "I find myself caring about you every minute Y/N," He admitted. My heart is racing like crazy.

#straykids #straykidsimagines #wattpad #fanfiction #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz hyunjin smut #hyunjin imagines #straykids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin icons #skz hyunjin #hyunjin smut #stray kids icons

22 notes · View notes

devilwearingdior · 7 months

Text

Chapter One ~Bad Decisions~

18+!

This fic contains: Violence, Alcohol, Nicotine, Cursing, SA.

(And possibly smut in the future chapters.)

Disclaimer: This fanfic contains struggles and problems that might hit close to home… Don’t worry it won’t be all gloom and darkness though 😉

August 19th Sunday, 1973.

I sigh and breath in the Texan air. I had been bored out of my mind, and my roommate was busy, so out of an impulse, I’d decided to go for a drink or two close to the college campus pub. I was gathering my courage to enter. Don’t be a wuss Olivia, i tell myself as i watch people enter the pub happily. There were a bunch of people outside smoking cigarettes and chatting away with each other, and here I was all alone.

After a while, I decided to just enter. I’m met with a sound of music coming from the speakers— A rock song playing I don’t recognise. I head to the bar counter, and a friendly-looking bartender greets me.

“What would you like, young lady?” The bartender asked me, smiling. She had blonde hair that was tied up in a bun.

“A draft beer, thanks," I reply politely, smiling. She asks for my ID and nods satisfied, pouring me a glass of beer and then handing it over. I moved to a secluded corner.

I was content with just people watching for tonight; anything was better than just sitting in my dorm room and dying out of boredom.

I sit down on the bar chair and sip on my beer; it had a pleasant, mild taste for a beer. The pub had people of all ages in it; most were men watching a football game that was playing on TV. The steady sound of the TV and music was broken when a group of guys entered the pub; judging by their varsity jackets, they were college football players. I recognised the logo on their jackets as the same that my college had. It was a bull with devil horns, and their jackets were red and white. They get seats close to my table, and I can’t help but overhear them talk.

“Someone should burn that shithole down already; there's nothing good about it except housing those freaks." One of the boys exclaimed, and his friends agreed with him.

“If we are lucky, someone does it, and that creepy family will be inside it once it happens." Another one, a blonde guy with light blue eyes, now speaks up.

“I wonder why they stay so isolated; I don’t think they ever leave that property of theirs.” The blonde guy continues, a clear disdain in his voice.

“I saw one of them a few days ago by the gas station, a freaky girl; she was humming some weird ass song." A black-haired boy responds, and I notice him shuddering as he recalls the memory.

I didn’t even realise how intently I was listening to their conversation as I jumped back a bit, startled, as the blonde guy called out to me; I hadn’t even noticed that he had been looking at me.

“Hey, you’re pretty cute. What are you doing here by yourself?” Now all of the guys are looking at me, some of them raising their eyebrows as they wait for me to respond to the blonde guy.

“Uh, I was just waiting for a friend,” I reply lying, cringing to myself; no way was I admitting that I was all alone in this pub all night to these guys.

"You don't have a boyfriend, do you?” The blonde boy speaks up again. “Come on, what’s your name? We can get to know each other. My name’s Kyle,” he continues.

“My name is Olivia, and, uh, no, I don't." I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to admit to these guys that I was single, but it was too late now anyway. Kyle grins when he hears my reply and pulls a chair from a table next to theirs, motioning for me to sit next to him. Without much thought, I joined the group of guys; the beer was making me braver. I sit down, and the other guys introduce themselves as Nate; he was blonde too, but he looked a bit older than Kyle. Next to Nate was the black-haired boy, who introduced himself as Josh. Next to Josh was a brown-haired boy named Alex, and the last boy introduced himself as Matt. He was light brown-haired and looked like he was a bit younger than the rest of the group.

"Olivia, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Kyle says, leaning a bit into me as he drinks his beer. He had a constant cocky smirk on his face, and as I looked around at the group of boys, I noticed that none of them looked particularly friendly; I was second-guessing my choice of joining them.

“Nice to meet you too; do you guys by any chance go to the Newt University close by?” I ask as I take a huge gulp of the beer, and the boys nod as a yes. Some of them were flashing their varsity jackets and grinning, telling me that they play on the school football team.

“You go there too? I haven’t seen you there before; you must be new. There’s no way I would have missed a face like yours." Kyle says with a flirty tone and some of his friends have a dumb-looking smirk plastered on their faces.

“Ah yeah, I just transferred here; I’m going to start my third year tomorrow, actually,” I reply. Suddenly, I feel a hand on my thigh. I look down and notice that it’s Kyle’s. I shift uncomfortably away from his hand. He looks at me and smirks but doesn’t say anything.

“Nice, it will be good to see you around,” Nate says with a chuckle, and the rest of the jocks nod their heads in agreement. I’m about to take a sip of my beer when I feel Kyle move his arm around my shoulder, and he speaks up.

“When is your friend showing up? They better hurry if they don’t want us to take you with us for drinks to the dorm."His friends chuckle at his comment, and I feel a shiver go through my body. Before I can reply, Kyle continues.

“So when can I take you out for a date? You didn’t have a boyfriend, right? No better way to get to know a new school and town,” he says with an overly sweet voice. I push his arm away from my shoulder and stand up.

“I have to think about that offer; now I gotta excuse myself; nature calls,” I say, and I don’t wait for their response as I head over to the girls bathroom.

“We’ll be here; don’t keep us waiting for too long!” Nate yells after me. I enter the bathroom and go to the sink, leaning my hands on it, and take a couple of deep breaths. I was in a public place. I was safe; if things got too uncomfortable, I could always come up with an escape plan. I stood there for a while, collecting myself and fixing my makeup. I was starting to feel a bit tipsy. After a while, I decide that I should get out and not hide in the bathrooms. I walk out and notice that the group of boys have moved to the pool table and are playing. I try to walk past them, hoping that they won’t notice me, but it’s all in vain. The brown-haired boy named Alex nudges Kyle. “There’s your new girlfriend! She took her sweet time.” He comments playfully, making Kyle look up at me. He smirks and once again motions for me to join them, but I wave him off. “I need to go and buy a drink!” I make up an excuse, but he walks after me to the counter.

“You don’t need to get it alone; I’ll pay. I just want to spend some time with you,” he says to me while leaning closer, our arms now touching as both of us lean against the bar counter.

“And then later you need to dance with me,” he adds with a wink.

“I can buy my own drink, thanks," I reply, but keep my voice light, trying not to sound rude.

“Oh c’mon! I’m not letting you do that; I don’t know why girls always insist on buying their own drinks. You’ll make me feel bad." He says with a fake pout, I roll my eyes lightly mustering up a smile.

“Fine. You can buy me a drink if you insist." I give in. Kyle smiles in victory and orders both himself and me drinks, then leads me, with his arm around me, back to his friends by the pool table. The rest of the night goes by with me mostly listening to Kyle and his friends joke around while playing; their jokes become more obnoxious and offensive. I try to tolerate it, as I get the increasing feeling that Kyle wouldn’t take well to rejection. After a while, Kyle turns to me, visibly more intoxicated.

“So, about that dance you promised me,” he says, and before I can respond, he’s pulled me closer to the speaker and is now holding me in his arms, moving me to the rhythm. It’s a slower song, and he spins me around, trying to make it seem romantic, but I feel like a trapped animal in his arms. As the song goes on, I feel his hand moving slowly towards my butt, and I pull his hand back up quickly. He lets out a low chuckle.

"Oh, don’t be like that, Olivia; let’s have some fun tonight,” he says, and he starts lowering his hand again, this time with more force.

“Stop it!” I say as I try to push him away, with no use as he is clearly stronger.

“Don’t be so uptight, Olivia; I'm just trying to get to know you,” he responds, sounding amused. He now unashamedly moves both hands onto my butt, and I try to push him away again.

“Kyle, seriously, stop it!” I am starting to panic a bit.

“Don’t be such a mood killer; I’m not harming you." He whispers into my ear. Before I can respond or do anything else, I feel a pair of even stronger arms pulling me away from Kyle, and a tall man steps in between us. I can’t see his face as he has his back turned to me as he speaks to Kyle.

“You jocks are just little shits, aren’t you? I believe this lady said to stop it.” The guy exclaims, and I see a flash of annoyance on Kyle's face as he scoffs.

“She’s just playing hard to get; she was into it. She didn’t really want me to stop it.” Kyle retorts angrily, and then a wave of recognition goes through his face as he looks at the guy and laughs.

“Oh shit! You’re one of the freaks; you’re Johnny Sawyer, aren’t you?" This comment gets the attention of Kyle's friend group, and they all move to his side.

“So you freaks do come out of your shithole! Who would have known?” Kyle continues, his friends laughing. I noticed the guy named Johnny tense up, and it was like I could feel an aura coming from him, one that seemed to shout: Do not mess with me. He was outnumbered greatly, but it didn’t seem to bother him as he moved closer to Kyle as if he were about to punch him. Kyle didn’t move, and now that they were face-to-face, the tension was thick in the air.

“What are you going to do, Sawyer? You want to fight?” Kyle snarls, his friends clearly ready to back him up. Johnny doesn’t say anything, but I could see his fists curl up, and he seemed like all his muscles were tensed up. I look around and notice that now everyone else in the pub is watching the situation unfold, and my slightly tipsy mind decides that now is the moment to dip out.

Kyle nor his friends pay any attention to me as I leave the pub, the cool air hitting my face. I couldn’t afford to get into trouble already; I hadn’t even started school yet! I look back once and hope that the guy named Johnny will be smart enough to back off; he couldn’t possibly fight all those guys alone. I was secretly grateful to him that he’d come up and interrupted Kyle's attempts, and a part of me felt guilty for leaving him there to defend himself because of that. I walked quickly along the pathway; the tall trees swaying lightly with the cool wind What the hell happened there?? I thought to myself as I could see the campus grounds getting closer to my relief.

As I enter the campus grounds I feel my feet start to move faster towards my dormitory building as if on their own accord, opening the heavy door I feel the welcoming warmth of the dormitory hallway and sigh in relief. 302, my room. My roommate Amber hadn’t come back yet judging based on her neatly made bed, I get inside and turn on the lights, there was still plenty of boxes around my bed since I hadn’t gotten around to unpack. I grab my t shirt and shorts and change into them; after that I head into the bathroom to remove my makeup and brush my teeth. I get back to my room and sit on the bed. This wasn’t a promising start for my school year at all; what had I gotten myself into?

I checked the time; it’s already 12 a.m. I should get to bed and at least try to sleep… I felt restless as the nights events kept replaying in my head, but as soon as I lay my head on my pillow i feel myself drifting off to sleep, lulling me into safety and security. Little did I know this was only the beginning for everything…

Authors notes: Stay patient; I promise the familiar characters will make more appearances already in the next chapter! Feedback is always welcomed :) I will try and post two chapters per week; Monday/Tuesday and Friday. Thank you for reading ❤️

Character list Here

#TCM #TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE #Texas chainsaw massacre game #TCM game #Connie Taylor #original characters #TCM fanfic #Johnny sawyer #sissy sawyer #Sonny Williams #Maria Flores #Ana Flores #leland mckinney #Julie Crawford #Texas chainsaw massacre fanfic #johnny sawyer x reader

23 notes · View notes

leegemma · 10 months

Note

can you do something with lee!hyunjin and lee!minho?

(Omg I completely forgot I said I will upload another one today, so I just found this one in my drafts. Didn't even go through it or anything so I hope it's okay 🙏)

Thank you for your request! This is just a little something I managed to do with this!

Enjoy:)

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

Lee know was in a mischievous mood, he wanted to cause trouble and he wanted to do so now. After thinking a bit about a plan, he decided to target his only hyung, Chan. He knew targeting Chan out of everyone, would be extremely stupid, but he decided to do it anyways. However, he wasn't going to do it alone, so he went on to find someone to help him. The first person he met when leaving his room, was Hyunjin, and so he walked up to the poor boy.

"Hey! Come here, you." Lee know walked towards Hyunjin but still called the other.

"What do you want?" Hyunjin teased.

"Wanna pour ice cold water on Chan hyung while he's showering with me?" Lee know went straight to the point.

Hyunjin groaned, knowing that no isn't an answer. "Fine, but only because I am bored and got nothing to do."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go get it all ready!" Lee know urged as he pulled hyunjin with him to get a bucket.

After the two boys filled up the bucket with water and ice, they carefully carried it over to the bathroom Chan was showering in. They were both walking slowly when I.N bumped into Hyunjin's shoulder right infront of the bathroom door. "Hey! Be careful! You almost made me pour this all over you!"

"Sorry, sorry... What- why do you have this?" Jeongin raised his eyebrow suspiciously.

Lee know and Hyunjin glanced at each other, talking with their eyes. Then spoke Lee know. "Okay, you have to promise not to tell."

I.N smirked, this was going to be good. "Fine."

"Soooo... we're gonna pour this on Chan hyung while he's showering." Hyunjin quickly explained, his arm getting tired from carrying the heavy bucket.

I.N's eyes widened and he started laughing. "He's going to kill you!"

Lee know quickly shooshed him. "No he's not. Because he's not going to know it was us, because you're not going to tell him. Okay?"

Jeongin started smirking again. "You know... I'll have to think about it."

"Jeongin!" Hyunjin scolded.

"Fineee... he will know it's you guys though. He always knows." I.N shrugged.

"Not this time. We have a detailed plan." Lee know shook his head.

I.N chuckled and left the room with a little: "whatever you sayyyy~"

Hyunjin and Lee know both rolled their eyes as if on cue, and silently went into the bathroom, making sure Chan was facing the other way, and then pouring the water all over him. They both fought their laughter when their leader let out a high pitched scream and ran out of the room.

Both of them heading to the living room and turning the TV on, pretending to have been watching something all along.

"HEY! You think you're funny?!?!?" Chan ran into the room a few minutes later, his hair wet.

Hyunjin and Lee know both pulled their most innocent faces and turned to face him. "Huh?"

"Don't you 'huh' me, you know what you did!" He practically had steam coming out of his bright red ears.

"We were here for an hour now... we have no idea what you're talking about." Hyunjin shrugged.

"Stop lying." Chan folded his arms.

"No, we're serious, see? We're halfway through the movie." Lee know showed Chan. Of course all he did was skip most of the movie, but that was just one tiny forgotten detail.

"But you guys are the only ones home!" Chan argued farther.

"Isn't Jeongin home as well?" As much as Hyunjin loved his little brother, he still appreciated his own life a little.

"He is...? That little-" and with that, Chan was out of the room. Leaving two laughing boys behind.

They both listened carefully when they heard Chan running into I.N's room, opening the door right away. They could then hear the boy screaming in laughter.

"Huh? Why is he laughing? I thought Chan would- oh. OH NO." Hyunjin realized what was happening and stood up, looking for anywhere he could hide just in case Chan realized I.N was infact, innocent.

"Huh? What?" Lee know looked confused, glancing at Hyunjin's panicked figure and trying to understand why he was so stressed.

"Are you not listening? Chan hyung is obviously tick-" Hyunjin and Lee know we're so deep in their confusion and stress that they didn't even notice that the laughter has stopped.

"Well, well, well... look who lied to me after all..." Chan was standing right behind the two with an angry looking I.N by his side.

"It was his idea!" Hyunjin pointed at Lee know, who looked back at him with a betrayed expression.

"So you're telling me that he came up to you, telling you what he was going to do and you just went along and helped him? And not only that, but you then proceeded to throw this one under the bus when I caught you?" Chan shook his head in disapproval and wrapped his arm around Jeongin when mentioning him.

Jeongin nodded, still somewhat pouting. "Hyung, I want them to be punished."

"If that's your wish." Chan shrugged and went over the the two boys who were standing frozen together. He grabbed them both by an arm each, and managed to somehow lay them both gently on the couch. Hyunjin on the horizontal part of the couch, and Lee know on the vertical.

Chan then called I.N over. "I'm going to need you to take on Hyunjin. Can you do that?"

I.N smiled and nodded. "Absolutely. "

He then jumped on Hyunjin, not giving the boy a chance to even think, and pinned his hands under his knees. Not wasting any time and immediately starting to tickle his mid section.

Hyunjin threw his head back and tried to shake Jeongin off of him, but was unsuccessful. So he just laid there and laughed.

Meanwhile, Chan already had pinned Lee know's arms above his head, and then sat on his pinned wrists to keep them in place. He then began to teasingly walk his fingers down the younger's arms, watching as the other huffed and struggled to hold his laughter in.

Chan laughed as Lee know let out a little laugh, but then shut his mouth close. "Just let it all out... don't torture yourself."

"T-the on- only thinG torturing mehe i-is yo-you!" Lee know stuttered, determined to not laugh.

Hyunjin was in the complete opposite position, he realized early on that laughing will be way easier than trying not to, so he was just going with it and letting I.N get his revenge while he just squirmed and laughed. "STAAHAHP!!"

Jeongin laughed along with him. "Just a little more... I'm not bored yet."

"YOUHULL NEHHEEVR GEHET BOHORED! HAHAHAH!!" Hyunjin got even more hysterical when I.N found a particularly sensative spot under his arms.

"I CAHAHANT ANYHYMORE!!!"

I.N grinned and stopped. "Okay... okay..." he got off Hyunjin and sat next to him instead, now watching the entertaining show Chan and Lee know we're putting on.

With Lee know still refusing to laugh, Chan was now getting tired of the stubbornness and was going to get real. With a wink, he started moving around spots as fast as he could, not giving Lee know even a second to get used to the feeling. His fingers were everywhere at once. And Lee know could feel himself breaking.

"Wahahait- OKAHAHAY OKAHAHAY!! I GIHIVE IHIN!" Minho was able to endure 7 seconds before going into silent laughter.

Chan laughed and got off, petting his stomach like you would to a cat. Then looking over at Jeongin and mentioning for him to come with. "Our work here is done, let's go."

Chan then turned to look at both hyunjin and Lee know. "And you two- if you ever even think about attempting anything like what has happening today, ever again... you know what's coming for you. Got it?"

The two nodded frantically and watched in relief as Cha and I.N left the room, both of them letting out a sign of relief and falling back down onto the couch.

Being a great prankster was hard...

#tickle fics #tickling community #skz tickle #kpop tickle #skz tickle fic #lee!hyunjin #lee!minho #ler!chan #switch!jeongin

52 notes · View notes

sluts-assembled · 8 months

Text

MHA Bakugou One Shot

I originally wrote this story on Wattpad, but I also wanted to post it here.

—————————————————————————

You were caught robbing a bank with several other people, but they had gotten away, and you truly didn’t know where they went. You told the two policemen with all honesty, so they sighed and talked with one another outside.

———

The two cops came back in after a while and put a thin, gray folder down in front of you. Your brows furrow in confusion as they open it and lay a consent form down on the table.

“What exactly is this for?” Apprehension laces your voice as you don’t know what they are up to.

“Look, we have a warning system. First time offenders are given corporal punishment to deter them from committing another crime. If you decide to take the warning, then you walk out of here free afterwards. If you decide not to, then off to jail you go. If you take the punishment and then commit a second crime after, then off to jail you go,” the red headed cop tells you bluntly.

“Corporal punishment? Are you telling me you’re going to spank me if I take this warning deal?”

“Yes, you can choose a spanking or jail time. Which would you like?”

You scoff at him as if he’s asking whether you’d like vanilla or chocolate ice cream.

The quieter cop chimes in. “Look, we only offer this deal because it has helped the crime rate go down while giving people a second chance. We all know jail ruins lives. You have to make your choice now, though. What’s it gonna be?”

Now, here you are, conflicted over the idea presented in front of you. You would have to swallow a lot of pride to take their offer, but is that something you could do? You didn’t want to go to jail, but you didn’t want to seem weak in the face of these cops. You have always hated authority ever since you were young. As you sit there, contemplating your fate, you finally look up at them. “I’ll take the warning.”

The quieter cop hands you a pen to sign the consent form. He directs you on where to sign. One of the terms that catches your eye is that it will not be a cop or detective that will administer your corporal punishment, it will be a pro hero.

After signing the damn thing, the red headed cop tucks the consent form into the folder and walks out with the quieter one.

Again, you’re left alone to think in the questioning room until a blonde with red eyes walks in. Your immediate reaction is that you’ve seen him before on tv. Dynamight. He doesn’t have his entire hero costume on. You realize his hand grenades are missing as well as the piece on the back of his head. Other than that, the rest of his costume is still in place.

He saunters in while removing his gloves. You can’t help but notice the smirk ghosting his lips. “Looks like they caught a brat tonight. It’s a good thing I volunteered for this. Gotta keep the crime rates down and thugs like you in their place.” He puts his gloves on the table.

A shiver runs down your spine. You can’t take your eyes off of him even though you want to look anywhere else.

“Alright, let’s get this out of the way.” He sits down in a chair. “My name is Bakugo, but you might know me as Dynamight. I’m in charge of your punishment, so I expect full cooperation. If you don’t, I’ll make things worse for you, so it’s your choice.”

Eyes wide, mouth parched, you don’t know how to respond. “What do you mean by ‘make things worse’?”

Bakugo presses a button on the table and speaks. “Bring in the case.”

Suddenly, a door opens, and the red headed cop walks in with a briefcase. “Already at this stage, hu?”

“Not quite. Just showing this little brat what will happen if she doesn’t listen.”

The cop sets the case down in front of Bakugo and leaves the room.

Bakugo opens it. He takes out a wooden hairbrush and a belt, laying them flat in front of you. “I’m already using the brush on you tonight, but if you don’t cooperate, you’ll get the belt too. Understood?”

This can’t be happening.

You nod your head.

“Good,” he says. “Stand up and take off your jeans.”

“WHAT?! I am not doing that. You can go-”

Bakugo picks up the belt threateningly. “I would reconsider your words if I were you.”

You decide it’s best not to finish that particular sentence. “Right. Sorry. This is just…new to me. I don’t feel comfortable undressing in front of you.”

“But you felt comfortable stealing other people’s money, right? You did the crime, now pay up.” He puts the belt down and gestures for you to get moving.

You didn’t mean to whine. You never whine, but you couldn’t help the small noise that came out of your mouth as your feet started moving. Your hands undo the button before the zipper on your black jeans. You start to shimmy out of them before you give him one last pleading look.

He doesn’t look like a patient man. “Don’t make me do it for you.”

That thought prompts you to finish your task. You don’t want some pro hero undressing you like a toddler. You’re more than capable of doing this yourself.

Your jeans pool around your ankles, and you’re left in your underwear. “Do I…need to take them all the way off?” You ask as you look at the floor, embarrassment washing over you.

“Eh, yeah. Take ‘em all the way off.”

You could cry, but you won’t. Not yet at least. You kick off your shoes and your pants follow. He beckons you over with his finger, silently telling you to come closer. Afraid of what will happen if you don’t, you walk over to him.

“Bend over my lap,” Bakugo orders.

You close your eyes, wishing this would all go away as you follow the hero’s instructions. A hand tugs at the waistband of your underwear, and you realize he’s about to pull down your only layer of protection and modesty, no matter how thin it is. Your hand shoots back and grabs the elastic.

The hero clicks his tongue at you disapprovingly. “The belt’s right there you know,” he quips.

You sigh and put your hand back in front of you.

He taps your bottom three times before introducing the first swat to your right cheek. You gasp in shock at how much it hurts. Before you can recover, another spank lands on your left side. Back and forth, Bakugo creates a steady rhythm, focusing on the lower half of your bottom.

The ache runs deep. It throbs, but you try to remain silent, digging your nails into your palm. Because you’re not giving any reaction to the pain, the pro hero thinks the swing of his palm isn’t hard enough. He ups the level of strength he is using to deliver a crisp smack to the center of your burning rear, and you finally start giving clear signals that the punishment is working.

“Oh God, please, stop!” You cry out as you begin to wriggle around on his lap. Your legs scissor, but this doesn’t thwart him. He simply pins your legs down with one of his own as he continues to spank your ass raw.

“This doesn’t seem like cooperation.”

You stop struggling upon hearing a certain tone in his voice. He’s fucking enjoying this. All of that hatred for sadistic authority comes bubbling up in your chest, and you lash out at him.

“You fucking pig!” Your fists pound against his leg as your hips try to turn over, but he has you effectively pinned down. “You’re nothing but a fucking low life!”

He snorts at your insult. “That’s the best you’ve got?” He gives you another good swat, even harder than the last, causing you to cry out. “It looks like you need a reminder of who’s in charge. You know what I think?” He rests a hand on your blazing rear. “I think you’ve never had a man in your life to put you in your place. I think you’ve been able to get away with shit for way too long, and that’s why you’re such a little brat who takes things that don’t belong to you.” He rubs your sore bottom, challenging you. “Am I wrong?”

You sniffle at his condescension while biting your lower lip. You feel like you might actually combust if you answer that question.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to answer. I already know it.” With that, he reaches over and grabs the hairbrush.

You look over your shoulder when cool wood taps against your scorching skin. You wish the floor would open you up and take you away from this nightmare. Second chances be damned. You’re starting to think jail might be better.

“OW! Ouch, this hurts! I’m sorry, okay?! I’ll do better! I won’t ever steal again! I won’t commit another crime! Please, please, just let me go! I understand. I get it. You’re in charge here. You’re the hero, and I’m just some thug. I get it. I’m trash, just some worthless thief. Please?” You try getting through to him emotionally. Manipulation was always your strong suit under pressure. You were good at getting your way in times like this.

He scoffs at you, seeing right through your little act. “If you keep thinking that way, we’re gonna have a different talk after this one.”

It’s odd to you how the once cool wood of the brush is starting to grow warm as it heats up your backside.

“What do you mean? I don’t want another talk!”

He huffs and briefly pauses the hairbrush spanking. Bakugo grabs you by the back of your hair and makes you look at him. “You’re not trash, and you’ll only be a thief if you keep stealing after this. You plan on stealing again?” His eyes bore into you, waiting for your response.

“No, I won’t, I promise. I’ll never steal again.”

“Good. Call yourself trash again,” he delivers a hefty blow with the brush, “and see what happens.” Bakugo finally releases your hair.

You squeal in pain, tears sliding down your cheeks as the brush paddles your ass. You feel like you won’t be sitting down for a month. You want to rebel against the pro hero and argue with him, but it’s nice that he’s trying to keep you from talking badly about yourself.

The last ten are intolerable as he delivers them to the sensitive under curve of your bottom.

Bakugo sets the brush down on the table beside the belt. He rubs your back before patting your bottom lightly, you wince at the contact, but you keep your whimpering to a minimum. You appreciate him giving you a moment to rest before helping you up.

“Now, I know you don’t want this, but you weren’t exactly cooperative.” He picks up the belt. “Struggling, insulting yourself and me, and trying to guilt me into letting you go. That buys you six licks with the belt.”

“No…no, please, I learned my lesson. I’m begging you. Don’t do this. I can’t take more.” It was pitiful, but you couldn’t go through another spanking again, no matter how short.

Bakugo’s determination is unwavering. “Alright, nine.”

“What? No, that’s not fair!”

“I make the rules here. I decide what’s fair, and I say this is what you deserve. The longer you decide not to listen, the higher the amount. I can play this game all night, brat.”

You suck in a breath, trying to keep yourself from shrieking in his face and making this worse for yourself. You clench your hands into fists, punishing your palms again with your nails, the only thing that helps keep you grounded. Tears gloss your eyes as they spill down your cheeks. You hold in a sob as you look at the pro hero.

“Okay, I understand,” your breath comes out shaky, but at least you’re not sobbing.

Bakugo turns you around and puts a hand between your shoulder blades, forcing you to bend over the metal table. You hear him shifting, the belt buckle clinks against the table as he picks it up. It’s your turn to shift once you feel the belt line up with your inferno of an ass. You pray that this ends quickly.

The belt is a different type of pain entirely. To you, it’s worse than that devil brush, worse than sitting on bleachers in the summer, it might even be worse than being burned by lava.

Your screams fill the room with each strike of the belt. You feel welts on your raw skin. The burn traveling deeper and deeper. You want to reach a hand back to protect your aching bottom, but you don’t want him to raise the count either, so you’re stuck sobbing into your arms as he reaches four.

The hand between your shoulder blades is comforting even if the other hand is causing you the utmost discomfort. “I’ll be gooood! I’ll be so good! Please?”

“Good to hear.”

You groan at his short and heartless response. Clearly, he is intent on finishing all nine lashes that he promised. Another strike of lightning has you wailing at the top of your lungs. He targets your thighs and finishes off the last five that way.

“There, you’re all done.”

He puts the belt down and continues to rub your back. You lie there until your sobbing is reduced to sniffles. He pulls you up by your arm and turns you back to face him.

Bakugo holds your jaw in his hand firmly and forces you to look at him. “Are you ever gonna steal again?”

“No, I promise I won’t.”

That’s all it took to break you and make you never want to go into crime again. He smiles smugly, realizing this. You give him a defiant pout, but that only makes him hold your jaw a little more firmly.

“Watch it, brat,” is all he says. It’s all he has to say.

Humiliated, you lower your eyes and nod.

“Alright, I need to sign some more papers. You wait here. I’ll take you home after.”

You nod and wait, but as you do, you feel like a great weight has been lifted from your shoulders. You feel your troubles disappear, and you can’t help but silently thank the pro hero deep down.

#bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugou #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha imagines #bakugou x y/n

10 notes · View notes

romymeow · 1 year

Text

IT'S WORTH IT

. pairings: fan!hinata shoyou x idol! reader.

. fandom: «haikyū!! »

. warnings: none.

. type: fluff.

That was the most angelic voice he had ever heard.

Your voice is something he would listen to every single day till you be his one day, well yes he basically listens to your voice everyday when he listens to your albums, he knows every song you sang, old or new.

Hinata knows you'll never notice him anyway, but.. his obsession with you gives him hope, he will always be your biggest fan where ever you go, he will do his best to follow you even if Tsukishima makes fun of him for listening to your song, he will always listen to your voice.

You did song covers and original songs. And he just loves it when you dance even, he would always find videos of you and your mates hanging out together, you're cute reactions make always make him turn red as Tendou's hair

He probably knows a lot of girls or even boys like you, but he thinks that nobody can like you as much as he likes you.

He would die for you!

He would sell his organs for you!

He would quit volleyball for you!- Well.. Not to the point where he quits.

You, L/N Y/N an idol who performs on stage with her band or alone, he loves your music type and even if changed it he would still listen to it, he has never went to any of your concerts, he still tries to make money and takes part-time jobs after school. He just really wants to see you in person, you looked so angelic on his screen so how would you look like in person? He always asked himself that question.

Talking about concerts, you have one in Tokyo! Oh, and how lucky he is! He has a training camp in Tokyo, too!

You don't know how much he has been thanking the gods since then.

He tried his best to ace the test and gain enough money, he gained enough but failed the test..

So Tanaka's sister drove them there. It was a nightmare but worth it, anything for you.

"Hinata-Kun, it's late will you go to sleep?" A boy with silver hair spoke as the orange one nodded,"Yes, Sugawara-San!" Sugawara frowns and sighs "You know, you did a lot of work today, you should rest." Hinata nodded at him, Sugawara smiles and leaves to get ready for bed,

Little did he know, that the little orange boy was gonna sneak out!

Where? To your concert of course!

He knew what he was doing would get himself in trouble, but anything for you.

He screamed and sang with the crowd, his voice may not be loud or he may not have cool glow sticks with vibrant colors.

But he believes that the love in his heart is more than anyone else.

The concert was done and Hinata was tired, but he waited for the crowd to get less before he leaves.

Suddenly he stopped.

He felt someone tap his shoulder, so he turns around and finds you

"I'm sorry for bothering you." You spoke quietly "You dropped this, sir." You hand him the wallet, his trembling hands take the wallet from yours.

He bows 90°.

"Th-thank you so much!" You laugh at his silly behavior, he blushes "You play volleyball, yeah?" He nods "Why do you ask?" He tilted his head confused "I saw you on TV when you were playing with Shiratorizawa high school." His eyes widened with embarrassment "You like volleyball L/N-san?"

"Not quite." You take out a piece of paper and write something on it, "Perhaps you might find this request weird but, you want to be friends with me?" He smiles widely and nods.

"Ahaha! Thanks... Uhm.."

"Hinata"

"Hm?"

"Hinata Shoyou!"

You laugh.

"Alright, Hinata-Kun." You turn around and wave at him "Let's see each other another time." You mock his silly smile, he waves back holding the piece of paper tightly, making such it doesn't fall.

Bonus:

"Hinata you dumbass!" Kageyama scolds his sleepy teammate who isn't focusing at all as the half-japanese-half-russain boy laughs at them

"Sugawara, are you such he slept early last night?" Dachi says with a face clearly filled with disappointment "No idea." Sugawara sighs

"How was the concert?" Kenma smiles while looking at his still-sleepy friend who has been scolded many times by his teammates "Amazing, Kenma-san." He whispers "Maybe this was a bad idea?" "No, it was worth it." He grins widely "Maybe you should calm down a bit, you know from your obsession." Kenma frowns a bit

Hinata laughs awkwardly.

masterlist

#hinata shouyou #haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #shoyo hinata #hq x reader #hq hinata #hinata shoyo

29 notes · View notes

rurus-kadoo · 10 months

Text

My Thoughts on Genloss

Excerpts taken from my conversation with my friend who'd already seen it <- the red stuff will be commentary from now-me

Uh oh, my input is no longer wanted "You were not supposed to fail" gurl the BEES "Your failures have not forgotten" I think only the "are you alone" failure screen is different "who even are you" "You are never alone"

I'll help you, glitch person!! D: <- clueless

What in the actual heck

"(Doot)" mood

"Finally, I got the-" "BOO. B[WORD I'M NOT GONNA SAY!]" "Okay, listen, who's haunting who right now?!

I don't trust squiggles

"RUMBISH RUMBISH? MY TUMMY'S A LITTLE RUMBISH RUMBISH!!" *looks directly at the camera* "Wet." Gagooby >:) I don't like splagebi, gonna be honest. I haven't been paying attention to the fridge magnets, is behind you what they've said the whole time?? "Looks like this contestant is running out of slime. I mean slime. I mean slime. I mean slime. I mean slime." "Please don't send me to Christian hell, I don't want to go to Christian hell again"

Also don't think I didn't notice the fact that Ranboo can't remember the things that happened when his mask lights were off and also that they were flickering after Slimecicle left What does it mean when they're flickering?!?!?!!?!?! <- clueless

Genloss is so surreal

Squiggles feels like the embodiment of chat but I know it's deeper than that Also I love how chat had the option not to haunt at the beginning and it just did not cross your minds at all

I found the creature Shicklester? The lobicklarp

Light on = fully in Flickering = starting to question/feel weird Off = talking to the man in the TV (Hetch? I think that's what he said) <- clueless

Uh What rat people do <- clueless

That's some interesting surgery

Uh The glitches came on and the slime turned red and he started screaming like a normal person would if someone had cut open their stomach Earlier, the glitches only came on when that TV guy was around, but he seems to be trying to get Ranboo out, which seems like a good thing, but then he keeps saying "Don't resist" which feels weird <- starting to be less clueless And in the last one Ranboo was confused but in the light-hearted silly atmosphere, and when he was saying the demon was trying to kill him, it didn't quite feel that way But this time his distress is immediately evident And it sounds like he's on the verge of tears "I don't want to do this!" "I need to find this key inn order to live"

Okay that's weird, dude literally said "you gotta perform surgery" and he's saying Ranboo misinterpreted it based on "on" or "in" And Slimecicle literally said he swallowed the key Something's wack here <- ohoho I had nooo idea Meanwhile, squiggles is talking about what a gushy gooshy guy Slimecicle is

There's the one girl freaking out and then the rest of the captives are being total crapheads "Did you try the button that works? Hey how about you try the working one?" "Just figure it out!" "Try harder!" Just leave them, Ranboo, they don't deserve it "the one girl" EXCUSE YOU THAT IS NIKI NIACHU <- my friend I CAN'T SEE HER I DIDN'T KNOW PLUS I DON'T WATCH ENOUGH OF HER CONTENT TO RECOGNIZE HER WAILS OF DESPAIR

*audible gasp* Frank!!! :D He's back!! <- clueless

Well that's some pretty good costume-makeup-work Cuz I'm pretty sure no actual human beings have that villain facial structure

"I want Turner to be my Turner." 🥺

I'm noticing some continuity things, which I'm not sure how relevant they actually are to the actual Genloss universe <- clueless For example, Slimecicle being both the slime demon and the hospital patient And Sneeg's hat being pulled from Slimecicle's guts Okay, Frank is canonically the same Frank, it's not just me going "skeleton? Frank!!", which to me confirms the continuity things from episode 1 to 2 are in fact relevant So what the heck happened to Sneeg, and why is Slimecicle a person instead of a demon now? I guess we'll have to see... <- clueless

..Chat's going to save Frank, aren't they? Please tell me you guys saved Frank over the actual living people

WAIT THERE HE IS THERE'S SNEEG Of course he's next to Frank

Wait Why is squiggles freaking out about the hat "Bad hat bad hat bad hat" And now the glitches are here Because the hat is on his head I keep telling you, I don't trust squiggles <- the one thing I was right about the whole time

Sneeg just escaped, I think!

Noooooooo D: He didn't escaped

Uoh Oh I don't like this

THE TAKEN THE TAKEN THE TAKEN THE TAKEN THE TAKEN <- I played the game before watching this, so "The Savior, The Taken, and The Villain were very present in my mind.

Okay Niki's been sobbing her eyes out this whole time and now that it's her turn, she's just Fine with things? Everything's just so nIcE

HE KILLED FRANK

Fish are the key to everything, calling it here <- wrong

I still can't believe he killed Frank Frank did nothing to deserve this

What the heck Niki's dead SHE'S NOT DEAD SHE'S WAILING Well now she's dead

Mans literally gave his means of controlling Ranboo and the gang to Ranboo and the gang

Aaaaa the lights <- talking about the mask lights The door What was he reaching for Was that squiggles behind the curtain

What is this why museum And the lights are back on W h a t Why anvil

"STOP backseating!" Mood

*gaspeth* SLIME DEMON!! NOOOOOOOO Rip slime demon

What Teleportation

Other dude didn't last long lol

Pffft mister man just said "y'all are taking too long!!! I'll do it myself >:("

The door malfunction XD YOUCANTURNAROUND

"Everything you're doing is not what I intended" I figured as much XD

Always press buttons Oh gosh the room lights

What if one of you just like Looked?

Oh dear That is pooling blood

"THEY SLAY'D THE SLAY KING" Ah, Squiggles Keep on squigglin ..I don't trust 'em

Them: surely it can't be this door, the Puzzler is going to make it more tricky than that The Puzzler: The Puzzler: guys it's literally just the door, dude that just died went through the door marked don't

No he didn't No way man dropped the detonator Frick Well they're not dead, so it wasn't the detonator

Okay what if you just took the arrow and stuck it manually to the middle of the target Oh nice, dude had the same idea

Woah it's the MCC minigame but in live action

Okay guys there's literally no need for all this fighting, you could literally stand in a single file line and make it Sneeg's just defending Ranboo, all casually

Well it very much seems like The Puzzler is dead Ominous closeup on his chair for forever

Hi Ranbooo Come on Ranboo you can't tell me you don't desperately want to sit in the chair I'd want to sit in the chair if I were you I mean look at that chair That's a very sittable chair It's also very shredded but still

I'm sorry mister puzzler man, can't understand what you're saying dude

BOX es

"the truth will set you free?" <- eyerolling

Ranboo doesn't look like he's doing so well <- clueless

WHY IS HIS VOICE CLEARER NOW SQUIGGLES, YOU'RE LOSING CONTROL? IS THAT WHY? Don't let him flee? Is that what you're saying, Squiggles? (I legitimately can't tell lol)

THE LIGHTS ARE OFF THE LIGHTS ARE OFF

Ohh crap Oh dang Sksgsajsvsuwsvwospnxvvfiwgqhakduwisbduqbdvucdioewjwbqpnxcfhwinewoqofhcyxjdbvwwksxyuansgausjau

Ooo Ranboo talking to the cameraman spooky What is perhaps more spooky is Hetch's voice not being distorted <- still mostly clueless but suspicious now

I do NOT trust this man "I'll tell you all in time" aka the line every "oOh I'm YoUr FrIeNd! ToTaLlY nOt GoNnA bEtRaY yOu!" says <- no longer clueless in one regard but hopelessly clueless in another

He sounds like he's gonna cry!! D:

Ok mans changing his story 11 times a minute and he expects anyone to trust him?

This guy big sus <- amogus iT's NoT wOrTh DwElLiNg On ThAt RiGhT nOw DUDE LET THIS POOR GUY DWELL ON THAT RIGHT NOW HE NEEDS TO DWELL ON THAT

THE HERO <- the original game stuff had "The Savior", which I misremembered We've had The Taken and now The Hero Where's The Villain, Hetch? <- by Fall Out Boy <- also I'm getting rather close >:( frik u hetch

Mans having a crisis and you're telling him "just keep going! Don't dwell on that! I'll get that mask off you eventually!" Like, man- <- bordering on creepily accurate (perhaps due to the extremely amazing job of the writers giving us subconsciously registered foreshadowing)

"Looks like they upped security since, uh..." Man literally couldn't be more suspicious

OOOOOOOO Hetch asking chat what to do and Ranboo choosing yellow anyway "I DON'T CARE" Good for you Ranboo!

Well crap Dksbhssgeusj Nzhwhsgs oh vd Nzhwosbshadsyw Mwhuahsvajbwwhjahsis Zjhzwuoqbwgdovdsggey

NOT THE CREEPY SECURITY ROOM WITH BLOOD POURING OUT OF IT

The streamers aren't creepy at all

"You did tpk your whole party last week" gurl what kinda DM do you have??

Charlie's Let's Play I can't-

Oh my gosh

"STOP WATCHING" <- when I found out Charlie was actually live I flipped XD Mans not taking this well and you can't blame him

NEITHER are taking this well

I'M not taking this well

It's so so so so so creepy having Charlie freak out like a sane person should instead of being the comic relief like he has been I can't I can't I can't Gah I love this so much "Uh, uh, maybe in the Suba?" He's freaking out and still managing to be comic relief but it's still so wrong aaaaaa <- I cannot stress enough how deeply unsettling it was to see Charlie Slimecicle in such sheer terror

run rUN RUN RUN RUN

Hetch is here aaaaa "F[ric]k off, Jerome"

"Tell them that the Hetch did this" "the Hetch"?

Charlie's asking the good sane questions <- and that TERRIFIED me I don't think Ranboo cares <- and that TERRIFIED ME

Ohoho Yeah he's embracing the villain arc I got the feeling Ranboo, more like Ranmyknifethroughyou They bleed electrical wires

The ringing behind the music is so

THAT PAN TO CHARLIE AA WHAT IS THAT SOUND Oh That's that sound Hi security

Ch Charlie? WHAT THE CRAPPP

He didn't tell them the Hetch did this

I know he hasn't won, and not just because there's more runtime This just doesn't feel right <- the least clueless I could possibly be without knowing spoilers

And he takes a bowCRAP CRAP I KNEW IT CRAP DANGIT HETCH CRAP CRAP CRAP

Dude

That's such a hard decision aaaaaaaaaaaa

THE GUTTURAL SCREAMS

"LET ME DIE"

s silence

and the credits roll

#generation loss spoilers #generation loss #genloss #long long post #dudeeeeee #I'm still reeling #while I'm here I'd like to plug my friend Asterlyyy's Take Me To Church genloss edit #it's so gooood ahoeihoaihohaehoaiehotihearhhi

4 notes · View notes

alexbkrieger13 · 10 months

Text

The stars' odd preparations: "You're going to feel shitty"

With a time difference of 10 hours and a journey of over a day, the Swedish national team leaves nothing to chance.

They have prepared a lot for the WC trip.

- Light-up glasses, app and compression stockings, says Linda Sembrant.

From Friday to Monday, the Swedish WC squad goes to New Zealand. A unique arrangement.

- I think we're the only ones who don't go together, but I go with a few. It's nice that you don't go alone anyway, because I wouldn't have been able to do that, says Nathalie Björn.

Before the Olympics in Tokyo, eight hours away, Kosovare Asllani started preparing for the time difference already during the pre-camp in Gothenburg. She won't repeat that mistake.

- It was a total fail for me. I was up early for a week - ten days. First I got two players, then three, then four. Suddenly almost half the team was up at the hotel from four in the morning.

The idea was that they would adjust so that they could sleep on the flight. It worked for most, but not for the initiator.

- I was the only one who was awake.

When the national team played in Australia last winter, many players had problems with the time change.

- You wake up in the middle of the night and feel that you are ready for a new day, even though it is several hours until you have to get up and you are completely done in the afternoon, says Stina Blackstenius.

- It will be a challenge, but I hope that we can, as soon as possible, start feeling pretty good anyway, says Linda Sembrant.

The national team management learned a lot from that trip and for this one the players have been recommended, among other things, to download the app Time Shifter.

- So says the guy slept three hours on that flight. Stay awake there, don't drink coffee then. It's actually really good, says Magdalena Eriksson .

Most people seem to have downloaded the app, but not everyone is as inclined to listen to it. At least not when it comes to caffeine intake.

- It says that you can only have one coffee in the morning, for the whole day, says Asllani.

Then there are those who have taken it a step further and ordered light glasses to adjust the light intake.

- There are different colors on the glass from the outside, depending on how much light you are going to let in. They are not super pretty, says Sembrant.

She's one of those people who wants to feel like she's done everything she can, so the light glasses are on order. Magdalena Eriksson hasn't, but that's only because it wasn't needed.

- Me and Pernille have a red light like this that removes blue light, so if we watch TV after eight in the evening, we wear them at home. So they go along.

But not everyone prepares so meticulously. When Filippa Angeldahl hears about all her teammates' prepping, she just shakes her head.

- I don't believe that you should prepare. I think you will be jet-lagged and you will feel like shit, but you just have to take it.

Despite attempts at persuasion, she buys neither the app nor the glasses.

- If you're tired, you just have to sleep, but you can't keep track of the hours. Try to survive that trip. Survive the days and then it's normal.

What do you think about everyone doing all this stuff? Who has bought light glasses and other things?

- Yes, they... Yes, I have no words. That's why I don't believe in that. It was like before the Olympics when Kosse and they started going up 0-4 and were going to change in Sweden. I sleep until 9 and then I get up.

#here anon #very facinating read #swewnt article #swewnt

6 notes · View notes

ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

What Is A Mother, But The Woman Who Loves Us Most?

A Batmom x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: I know there is a story like this already (by a different author) but I should preface that this is a story that I posted a year or so before but deleted my previous blog last year, so it's not going to seem like it. I haven't copied any ideas, this is my own that I posted a year or so ago, and re-posting again now. -Thorne

You are not my mother!

The loathing words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he watched the cave go deathly quiet around him. Everyone's eyes were wide, even hers, but a millisecond later, they set in a hard stare as she stood straight, her jaw tightening.

She nodded, staring at him. "You're right Damian. I'm not Talia al Ghul. I'm not your mother. But I will tell you what I am." She raised her left hand, flashing the silver wedding ring on her finger. "I'm your father's wife. And what I tell you to do in this manor is what I expect from you."

He shook his head in anger, glaring at her. "This is my father's manor!"

"No Damian, this is the Wayne Manor. And I've been, to use a rather weathered term, the lady of the house for almost fifteen years. Long before you were even a thought in Talia's mind." He stopped and she crossed her arms. "I may not be your mother, but you are a child and your father and I are the adults. When you turn eighteen, you can make all the decisions you want. Until then, what we say goes."

His lips drew in a taut line and she added, "I've already talked about it to Bruce. You're not allowed on patrol after what happened at the gala. If you want to complain to him about it, he's going to tell you the same thing." Her eyes shifted to the others, then she looked back at him one last time before turning around and walking up the stairs.

When she was gone, he let out a shout in anger and threw silver coffee pot against the cave wall. It hit the wall with a clang and dropped, rolling on the ground a few times as it spilled its contents, much like his mood.

He felt their eyes on them and he whipped his head up, glaring at them. "What?!"

Tim and Jason simply narrowed their eyes at him, but Dick walked forward and knelt in front of him. "Kiddo, that wasn't a nice thing to say to mom."

Damian scoffed at him before shoving past, climbing up the stairs. “Like the three of you haven't said that to her before." There was no return to his statement, giving him all the answer, he needed.

***

He stepped out of the study stretching his arms and listening to the sound of his bones popping before he shifted, moving towards the door. The boys had left a few minutes earlier to catch a rerun of an episode of Vikings, leaving him alone in the cave.

Alfred walked up to him, handing him a sweater before motioning to the door. "Mrs. Wayne has taken a seat out on the patio. I suspect you'll wish to see her."

Bruce nodded, taking the sweater from him before thanking him and moving out of the study and towards the patio. He crossed into the living room as he did, stopping to stare at his four sons passed out on the couch. The TV was still going, so he leaned down, gently taking the remote from Dick's hand and shutting it off.

He set the remote down and started his path again, but stopped when he heard, "You going to check on mom?" He turned around, looking at a his oldest.

Bruce nodded, taking in the sight of Dick’s arms wrapped around all of his brothers. “After you boys told me what happened, I thought I should talk to her about it."

Dick nodded, reaching up and rubbing his eyes, careful not to wake the others beside him. "He didn't mean it...he'll see that when he gets over being angry."

Bruce nodded and leaned over, ruffling his hair. “Tell Jason that you two should stay at the manor tonight...it's too late for you to head home anyway."

Dick started to argue, but a look from his father and quick, “Your mother would have a fit if you two tried to drive home now or later…you know that.”

His son nodded and Bruce turned around once more, this time making his way to the dimly lit patio. His hand curled around the cool metal handle of the sliding glass door, and he quietly opened it, stepping out onto the deck. She lay on the porch swing, covered by a heavy hound’s tooth blanket, with a barely full wine glass in her hand.

He walked towards her and bent over, picking up the wine bottle; he shook it lightly before quipping, "I can't believe you've drank an entire bottle in one sitting."

As if finally noticing his presence, she tipped her head lazily to him and mumbled, "It's empty?"

He snorted and tipped the bottle upside down. "As it was the day before it was bottled."

Bruce paused and grinned as she huffed a laugh and brought the glass she had in her hand up to her mouth. He watched her down the rest of her red wine before she set the glass on the table; he set the bottle beside it and shifted her forward, easing his way behind her until they were both comfortable. She rested her back against his chest, her head dropping against his shoulder. His arms came up around her as he pulled the blanket up to her neck, keeping her warm.

He was quiet for a second then he murmured, "...The boys told me what happened earlier."

There was a moment of silence, then she whispered, "I know I should be used to it after hearing it come from each of them..." She stopped, then continued with, "But it still stings to hear it."

A sad smile crossed his lips as he pressed his lips to her temple. "Of course it stings (Y/N)...you're their mother and you love them." After he didn't receive a response from her, he tipped his head and looked down. "(Y/N)? Love?" She turned her head, and he took in the sight of the tears in her eyes; his face fell at the sight and he brought a hand up, cupping her cheek. "Oh…sweetheart."

(Y/N) choked out a sob and pressed her face into the crook of his neck as she clenched a hand in his sweater. Bruce rested his chin on the top of her head as he rubbed her back, comforting her with quiet words.

***

Damian watched them from the screen door, feeling his heart clench in his chest at the sight of (Y/N) sobbing. He swallowed thickly and stepped back, only to come into contact with someone—something. He let out a quiet gasp and spun around, seeing Dick staring sadly out at his parents, Tim and Jason behind him doing the same.

Damian looked at them and whispered, "What are you three doing?"

Dick glanced at him briefly before motioning to them. "We heard the sliding door open, and we went to listen."

"I didn't know you were eavesdroppers."

A hand came up and cuffed him upside the head; he held his head, glaring at Jason who bit out, "Shut up, two-bit. You were eavesdropping too."

Damian opened his mouth to retort, but shut it and turned back around, looking at her. A moment passed, then he mumbled, "You said the same thing I did." He looked up at his brothers, who wore clouded expressions; each of them nodded after a few seconds, and he asked, "What happened?"

Dick was the first to speak, remembering a time from when he was a mere ten years old.

***

He stomped angrily through the house, not even caring about her following him; she called after him repeatedly. "Dick. Dick, honey, stop for a second."

He didn't listen, still moving. "No! You grounded me!"

"And I grounded you for a reason. You deliberately disobeyed me." He grunted at her and she called out, her voice ringing with authority, "Richard John Grayson. Not another step young man." He stopped at it and she continued, "You left the cave tonight and went on patrol without asking. As your mom-"

He spun around, his eyes angered as he spit, "You're not my mom! Stop acting like it!" Her mouth shut, and her eyes went wide from the declarations.

She blinked, obviously stunned at his words, and she stared down at her hands murmuring, "I may not be your real mother...but I...I am...I..." She drew off, bringing a hand up to wipe at her cheek. Dick's widened when she looked up at him, and he saw the tears beginning to spill, running down her cheeks.

He raised his hands out to her. "Wait! I—I didn't mean it!"

(Y/N) looked down and she brought a hand up to her mouth, moving past him, letting out a broken, 'excuse me'. He watched her go past him, then a few moments later, Bruce walked into the room and he turned to him.

"Bruce!" Bruce looked down at him, taking in the sight of Dick, who was almost in tears.

The lecture he had ready for him went out the window as he squatted in front of Dick. "Dick?"

The boy looked up at him, tears filling those big blue eyes. "I—I messed up B-Bruce."

He reached out a hand, wiping his tears away. "What happened Dick?"

Dick lowered his head and he whispered, "I a—accidently told (Y/N) that she wasn't my m-mom."

Bruce sighed at him and murmured, “Oh, Dick." The boy began to sob, and Bruce reached out, pulling him into a hug. "It's okay, bud."

***

Dick looked at her and murmured, "I've never forgotten the look she gave me after I said it to her..." He looked down at Damian, and said, "And neither has she."

Jason nodded at that. "I'm sure she's never forgotten how I left the cave telling her I had to go find my real mom.

***

"What are you looking at baby?"

He jerked forward, clicking the screen to minimize the images. "Nothing!" He spun around to see her walking towards him, an amused smile on her face.

"And I'm assuming that nothing is not important?" She questioned.

He nodded. "Not at all."

She stared at him until he sighed and turned around, clicking the screen to reveal the images of the three women; she walked up to him. "Who are these women?"

He pointed to each one. "Sharmin Rosen, Lady Shiva, and Sheila Haywood."

(Y/N) nodded, looking at them. "They're very pretty women." She paused and looked at him. "But why are you looking at them." He dropped his gaze and picked at his fingers. "Jason? Hon?"

He looked back up at her. "One of them is my mom."

Her eyes widened as she said, "Like...your biological mom?"

He nodded. "I found out after I went back to my old apartment." He looked between the screen and (Y/N). "I'm gonna track them down." She was silent, her eyes moving to the screen, and he turned to her, rising from the chair. "I have to go find them...I have to go find my real mom."

***

"And those were the last words I ever said to Ma." They stared at Jason as he leaned against a table by the door. "And it got a lot worse when I came back...I said horrible things to Ma...about her not caring...about her not being a mother." He went silent and shook his head. "I fucked up a lot of things between us for a good couple years."

Tim watched him, then nodded. "I hadn't even realized I'd actually said it to mom...it was such an offhanded comment that I didn't even know what I said until she was gone."

***

He barely registered the sound of his bedroom door opening, let alone the sound of her footsteps as she walked up to him. He did, however, hear the disappointment in her tone as she said, "Timmy...you need to go to bed."

He shook his head, typing on the keyboard. "I'm fine."

"Honey, you've been awake for almost forty-eight hours." She rested a hand on his shoulder. "It's not good for your body if you stay up like this."

"I'm fine. Really, I'm good."

She squeezed his shoulder, the other hand reaching out to close the laptop. "You'll be good when you're asleep in bed." Skimming the top of this laptop, she stopped when his curled around her wrist.

He turned to her and said, "Will you stop mothering me? I'm fine. I don't need your help."

He let go of her and turned back to the screen, barely registering the way she quietly whispered, “Alright Timmy...goodnight”, and walked out of his room.

***

"The only reason I actually realized what I said was after a few minutes, I realized that she hadn't told me she loved me after saying good night." He paused, digging a groove into the carpet with his toes. "Mom didn't say anything about it the next day, but I could tell that something had shifted. She was more reserved when it came to me." He looked at Damian. "Look, I know you and I don't get along, but I'm going to tell you something brother to brother. Go apologize to mom and tell her that you didn't mean it."

It was all he said before he looked at the others and waved. "I'm going to bed.

Jason soon followed saying, "I'm with Timbers. I'm gonna go crash."

The two of them began making their way to their rooms when the sound of the screen door opening and closing brought their attention back. They looked towards it, seeing Bruce carrying (Y/N), her head pressed against his chest.

He stopped when he saw them, his surprised look giving way to a hard expression. "Were you four watching?" They all started making excuses, but he shushed them, nodding at their sleeping mother; they shut their mouths and he brought his foot back, sliding the door closed.

"Is mom alright?"

Bruce looked at Dick and nodded. "She's fine. Wine drunk...but fine." He looked down at Damian. "(Y/N) does a lot for all of us. You owe her an apology when she wakes up." Damian nodded, watching as he walked past them, carrying her up the stairs to their bedroom.

***

The dull throb in her head told her the migraine was something she was going to need some aspirin, water, and a heavy blanket to block out the light to fix. She groaned lightly as she burrowed her face in her pillow, then she opened her eyes and looked around the room.

Immediately, she took in the sight of the four of her boys curled up like cats in the bed with her. A smile graced her lips and she reached down beside her hip, running a hand over Tim's head; he shifted in his sleep, burying his face in her side and she struggled to bite back the laugh that wanted to come out. She reached over again and ran her hands through Dick and Jason's hair, watching them do the same.

She smiled at them, then a voice sounded from beside her. "Are you awake, Umi?" (Y/N) looked to her side, seeing Damian curled up beside her. Bruce's broad shoulders made him look so tiny from where he was laying and she nodded, raising a hand and caressing his head.

"I'm awake, sweetheart." He nodded, then moved under her arm, resting his head on her shoulder. Her arm settled comfortably around him, and she brought up her hand, gently running her fingers through his short hair.

After a few moments he whispered, "...I'm sorry, Umi."

Her response was to press her lips to his forehead, and murmur, "I know, baby."

He swallowed thickly, feeling the beginnings of tears gathering in his eyes. "I didn't mean to say it."

She nodded; her lips still pressed to his forehead. "I know you didn't, sweetheart. It was something said in anger."

He moved to sit up, looking up at her as he whispered harshly, "But I have hurt you! I made you cry! I...did this." He dropped his gaze, closing his eyes, and (Y/N) watched the tears begin to fall down his cheeks. He looked back up at her a few seconds later and said, "You are my mother, Umi...you are the only mother I've known."

(Y/N) shifted, careful not to wake her sons, then she cupped Damian's cheeks in her hands. "Baby...it's okay...I'm not angry at you."

He shook his head in her grip. "But you're sad because I said you weren't my mother."

(Y/N) brushed her thumbs under his eyes, wiping away the tears. "We all say things that we don't mean." He looked up at her and she searched his eyes. "What matters is that when they are said, we try our best to fix what we've done wrong."

Damian nodded his head and whispered, "I'm sorry, Umi."

A sad smile crossed her lips and she leaned forward, kissing his forehead. "I am too, baby." She pulled away and brushed his cheeks again. "I still love you though...with all my heart."

"You do? Even after what I said?"

(Y/N) nodded, pulling him to her; he rested his head under her chin, and she wrapped her arms around him as she murmured, "The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness." She brought up a hand, caressing the side of his head as she whispered, "Each of you has told me as some point that I am not what I am. But I know deep down that none of you meant it. And each time I heard it, it hurt...but forgiveness is a good thing when used."

"To err is human...to forgive...divine."

She smiled at his quote and squeezed him gently. "I love you, Damian...my beautiful baby boy."

The feeling of tears gathered in his eyes, but he blinked them away, his hand clenching in her shirt as he replied, "I love you too, Umi."

There was a moment of silence between them until, "How come the demon-spawn gets all the love? We were here first."

Damian raised his head, glaring at Tim. "I am Umi's favorite, Drake."

"The hell you are, Tater-tot. If anyone's the favorite, it's me."

"I think you're wrong, Little-wing. Iwas the first. I'm the favorite."

"No one asked you, dickhead."

"Mom! Jason called me a mean name!"

"Stop mocking me!"

"Mom!"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at her two oldest as they began to shove at each other, and eventually, Tim and Damian got into the mess, and she watched their fists and feet fly at each other.

A grunt sounded from beside her and she looked down to see her husband glaring at her. "You just had to get them going this early, didn't you, Mrs. Wayne?"

(Y/N) let out a 'pfft' and leaned down, pressing her lips to his before laying her head on his arm, their foreheads touching. "Yeah...but I know that when they're fighting like this, they're giving each other love."

"Tough love."

She snorted and tickled his side, feeling him jerk away. "But love nonetheless."

He opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of someone grunting cut him off. "Mom! Jason won't let me out of this headlock!"

"Mom! Jason won't let me-"

"STOP MOCKING ME, JASON!"

"You're unbearable, Drake! I am Umi's favorite!"

"Keep telling yourself that, oompa-loompa."

"I am not an oompa-loompa!"

(Y/N) sighed and looked at her husband. "Never a dull morning, is it Mr. Wayne?"

He grinned at her but grunted when one of them hit his side. "No, it's not Mrs. Wayne. No, it is not."

4K notes · View notes