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id-rather-be-an-outsider · 2 years

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Respite Among Chaos | Pt II

Porco Galliard x Athlete!Reader

summary: now that you and Porco are closer than ever thanks to Reiner, witness the conclusion of your unresolved feelings for each other! are you ready to admit your friendship is a bit more? read part 1 here!

word count: 3652 (including words in text messages)

a/n: imma be honest this was gonna be a 10.2k 1-parter but Tumblr is being a bitch so that didn’t happen 🙃 I thought my hatred for the most recent mobile update hit a new height the other night when I was painstakingly trying to make the moodboard for this story, but today I learned something new about myself 🙃 please tell me I am not alone in this frustration. anyways, I hope you enjoy this conclusion!

masterlist

I’m surprised to find Porco waiting for me at my dorm, bouquet in one hand, Ben & Jerry’s in the other. “Porco! Where did you find a bouquet at this hour?”

“Walmart over in Liberio.” He shrugs it off as if it were nothing.

My eyes soften. “That’s really sweet, you didn’t have to do that. The ice cream was already more than enough.” I unlock my dorm, flicking the living room lights on. Pieck’s asleep in our bedroom, so I put my hand up to my lips. “Don’t be too loud.”

He nods and maneuvers around me so I can close the door, and I catch a whiff of his cologne. It smells like the forest after a long rain, refreshing. So very… Porco.

I hop in the shower, scrubbing myself down as quickly as I can and washing my hair (which takes the longest, of course), and as soon as I’ve got the water turned off I can hear a knock on the door. I wrap a towel around myself and open it to be greeted with Porco’s face.

He takes in my body and his nose turns a rosy shade of pink. He looks away as he says, “I got everything set up. Do you want to watch another scary movie?”

“Sure, thanks. I might be awhile because I have to put all my hair products in, but I’ll go as fast as I can.”

“Do you need help?” He asks.

“Nah, I got it. There’s a specific order to it or else it won’t lock in moisture how it’s supposed to.” His mouth forms an ‘O’ in understanding and he leaves me to my hair care.

When I come out, I’m dressed in a baggy tshirt and basketball shorts, also known as my springtime pajamas because it’s too damn hot in Marley for me to be wearing flannel ones.

Porco’s laid out like last time, except now he has an arm resting on my side of the couch back, remote in hand. “I’m sure your hair is perfect, princess. Come on.” He motions for me to come on, already, and I acquiesce his request by jumping on the couch bed, making it rock a little. He casually pulls me into him with his arm, then starts the movie.

•••

Minus the flowers, that’s how most nights go now, and my days are spent studying with Porco next to me when I’m not practicing. Every now and then he’ll buy me coffee, complete with whipped cream and my favorite drizzle. Sometimes he’ll even drop it off to me when I’m in class, eliciting ‘ooos’ and ‘awwws’ from the other students, much to my chagrin.

He always greets my Professors with his pearly whites, using the excuse of, “I apologize for the interruption, Professor, but the track star here needs her daily coffee or else she might get bad luck - superstitions, and all - anyway, I hope your students are getting valuable information from all the hard work you’re putting in. Have a nice day!” And then he leaves before anyone can say anything.

In the classes I share with Pieck and Historia, the two of them always nudge my arm and tease me, and I always hide my face in my arms.

One day, I get a notification on my phone, and open it to see Historia has made a group chat. We spend the rest of Professor Hange’s class texting while taking notes.

I sigh in frustration, putting my phone down, but I’m a little too loud, garnering Professor Hange’s attention. They look over at me. “Anything you would like to share with the class, y/l/n?”

I vigorously shake my head no. “Sorry, my mom just doesn’t understand what I mean when I say I can’t talk because I’m in class.”

They muse on my easy lie for a moment, then say, “Well. It’s not surprising, given your boyfriend doesn’t understand that either.”

My eyes widen, and I say, “He’s not my boyfriend, Professor.”

They frown. “Hm? He should be. Seems like a keeper.” And before I have time to say anything, they return to their lecture, Historia and Pieck sniggering, their eyes darting back and forth between me and themselves.

I mutter under my breath, “You guys are the worst.”

•••

I jolt out of my sleep in a cold sweat, panting. I check my phone. It’s after midnight. In a moment of vulnerability, I text Porco:

Almost immediately my phone vibrates with a response.

No sooner have I gotten everything ready (including my appearance) than I hear a quiet knock on the door. Opening it reveals Porco, who enters, closes the door for me, and immediately envelops me in a hug. I sigh in his arms, breathing in his cologne. “Thanks, Porco.”

He pulls back, eyes searching mine. “What’s going on?”

I let my forehead fall against his chest. “It’s a long story... Pieck and Historia are the only ones who know the full thing. Marcel and Ymir know some of it, but they don’t have the whole picture.” I ramble, my voice muffled in his jacket.

“You only need to tell me what you want to tell me. But, you probably can’t do that while eating my shirt.” Porco jests, and gently grabs one of my hands, leading me over to the couch bed. He takes his jacket off, tossing it over the couch back, and I look away when he makes to pull his pants off, but catch a glimpse of his briefs as he holds the blanket up for me to climb under, patting his chest.

I quickly join him after turning the lights off, laying my head on him. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer, and I feel every tense muscle in my body loosen up, his embrace a calming agent.

“So.” He says.

“So.” I mimic. After a few moments of silence, I try, “I… was abused as a kid.”

Porco whistles. “That is… really depressing to start with. What else?”

“Sorry,” I apologize, “It’s… there’s no way to explain it without going straight to the nitty gritty. But basically, my mom and dad split, and my dad would hurt me to get back at my mom. He’d leave bruises, scars, he’d lock me in a closet, he wouldn’t feed me, and when she would confront him about it all he just threatened to turn it back on her because he had friends who were cops. My mom felt powerless, and I was powerless. He broke me down and convinced me it was my fault that he did it to me, that I deserved it, and it blinded me to a lot of toxic friendships throughout my schooling, up until college when I started therapy. So… that’s why I have anxiety. And why I feel like a burden to people.”

“I am so sorry, y/n. No one should ever have to go through that. Especially not a kid.” His hand finds purchase on mine, his thumb rubbing circles on my hand. “You have to be really strong to make it through something like that, though. No wonder you’re a superstar.”

“I don’t feel strong, though. Everyday… It’s like it takes everything in me to not crumble under the weight of it. It’s a chain I can never quite break free from, and it makes everything just a little harder. Even sleep.”

“Is that what your dream was?” Porco asks.

“Yea, it was. Sort of.”

“What happened in it?”

I give a breathy laugh. “It’s weird, but, here goes. I was stuck on a date with Reiner, and was trying to find a way to get out of it. Going to bathrooms to hide, trying to climb out windows, waiting for him to be distracted so I could run out of the front door, the works. I already didn’t want to be on the date, but the thing making me want to leave was that something was wrong with him. He sounded like my dad. And finally, I did find a way out. Only, when I got out I was trapped in my dad’s house, and if I was trying to go out an exit, the room would extend forever. If I was just walking around? Nothing. But then, he started chasing me through the house, like he was hunting for me. Whispering my name and laughing, with this laugh he always had before… I had to be silent, but he could smell me. Eventually, Reiner found me, but… he wasn’t Reiner anymore. He was my dad, with Reiner’s face peeling off his skin. And when he caught me, he… I woke up then.” I nuzzle into his chest, needing comfort.

Porco tucks his head in, resting it in my hair. “Do you think sleeping with me at night would help?”

I ponder it, but shake my head. “I really don’t know. Selfishly, I hope it does, but I don’t want to steal you away from Marcel all the time. He might miss his little brother, you know.”

“Steal me from him all you want, it’s not like Pieck doesn’t steal him from me constantly. Can I tell you something?” His voice rumbles in his chest, and the vibrations in my ear are relaxing.

“As much as you want.” Is my response.

“That whole thing about Marcel being injured… The reason I don’t like Reiner is because he almost killed my brother.”

“What?” I turn my head to look up into his eyes, moonlight filtering in through the blinds to reveal his depths of amber.

He bites his lip as he scowls at the air, mind caught in the past. “He crashed his car with Marcel in the passenger seat. He was at fault for the crash, and somehow came out relatively unscathed compared to Marcel. He put him in the hospital. Critical condition, and a coma. I didn’t… we didn’t know if he would wake up. Every day was a nightmare.” His grip tightens on me as his voice becomes strained. “When he did wake up, he was all smiles, being a good sport about everything - you know how Marcel is. But I was never able to forgive Reiner. I almost lost my best friend. If I did-” He cuts himself off, inhaling the scent of my hair. “It’s something I don’t want to think about. By the way, whatever products you use smell amazing.”

“That would be Cantu, sir.” I say helpfully, then drop off, not sure what to say. After a while I settle on, “That’s some heavy history to back up a grudge. Even if Reiner wasn’t a jerk, I really wouldn’t blame you. If something happened to you because of him, I’m pretty sure I’d be able to override my anxiety to commit battery and assault. Or arson, at least.”

“At least?” Porco repeats, shocked. “Well, since we’re confessing, I might as well tell you… I told Reiner if he ever fucked with you again I would lay him out in front of the whole school, football scholarship be damned. Well, not in those exact words, but still.”

I gasp, poking him playfully. “Porco! Stop bullying, speak up!”

“You’re so corny.” He chuckles, rubbing his hand up and down my arm.

“And you’re so meaty.” I argue with a giggle, rolling away a little bit.

Porco gasps dramatically. “Are you calling me-” He yanks me back toward him, “A meathead?” He starts tickling me and a shriek is caught in my throat, knowing Pieck is asleep in her room.

In between breaths, I squeak out, “No- I would- never do that- to you!” The sarcasm still detectable in my tone despite Porco demonically attacking my senses.

I try to push away from him, but he only grabs my hands, and the couch bed shudders as he moves to pin my hands down - one on either side of my head. That pesky moon highlights our eyes, and from my view, his lips, too. He looks down at mine for half a second, murmuring, “You do so much to me.” The air hangs between us for a few seconds, the gravity of his words sinking in, and he leans his head down, his lips meeting mine. One of his hands slips out of mine, cupping my cheek with all the tenderness one would afford a sleeping baby, his other hand splaying open to interlace his calloused fingers with my smaller ones. His warmth seeps into my body, heating me from the inside out, and I melt into his touch, my free hand moving from the bed, to his chest, to his shoulder, then to the back of his neck, like I’m holding onto him for dear life.

When our lips part ways, he whispers, “Fuck. Was… Was that okay?”

I whisper back, “Yea - it was okay. I’m… surprised, but it was okay. More, than okay.”

“How did it surprise you?” He asks, eyes betraying his confusion.

I elaborate, “I uh… I just… I didn’t think you…” I pause, realizing I still don’t quite believe it. “Do…? You feel that way?”

He laughs, but only just. “How do I find the one person on Earth who I can confess my feelings for, and kiss, and they still aren’t sure how I feel about them? Get outta your head, y/n.” He sinks down so his chest is pressed against mine, and the thud of his heart in his chest soothes my nerves.

I counter, “In my defense, you only said I ‘do so much’ to you. You didn’t specify what. Meathead.”

I can’t see the eye roll, but I can hear it in the way he groans. “That’s just semantics. But if you insist, I’ll explain it. But only a little bit, since you called me a meathead.”

I scoff. “Hardly fair.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” He says. “The things you do to me. You make me smile every time I think about you, you make me laugh without even trying, you make me look forward to studying because I get to do it with you, you make me into a fool, doing things I would never do for anyone before - but for you, I get excited to do them. And of course, you’re making my bank account loaded with all the money you’re gonna win for us at the Olympics.”

“For us? You mean for me? And that’s if I even go.” I chide. There’s a comfortable silence before I say, “But that’s… really sweet. I didn’t know you…”

“Yea, I know you didn’t know. It was killing me.” He finally shifts, laying down next to me and pulling me into him.

I find myself tracing patterns on his chest idly. “So… were you just waiting for me to figure it out? Because that would have been a terrible idea.”

He sighs, and I sink further into his embrace, a sigh of my own releasing itself from my lips in this small bliss. He says, “Well, that was before I realized you were oblivious, hot stuff. I should’ve known something was up when I asked for your number.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because,” He kisses the top of my head, “Marcel came home from practice that day and said he hoped I’d been practicing my patience. Little did I know it was because he’d tried to tell you in a roundabout way that I was interested and you were convinced I wasn’t, but he didn’t bother to tell me that ‘til way later.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh…” I say, finally realizing what Marcel was on about that day.

“You’re fucking kidding me. Did you just get that?” Porco asks, and I can tell he can’t believe it.

“To be fair, I am just a dumb jock.”

He stammers, then says, “Ohmygod, just shut up and go to sleep, nerd. You are not ‘just a dumb jock.’ Most ridiculous shit you’ve ever said.”

I kiss his chin, breaths of laughter escaping through my nostrils, and settle in for a good night’s sleep, free of any nightmares, because all I’m dreaming about tonight is the man next to me, making my heart flutter with every passing glance.

•••

“Sup, book thief?” Porco says as he lets her and Historia into my dorm for another group movie night.

“For the last time, Galliard, I thought Marcel’s book was mine! I gave it back after I realized it, I didn’t steal it.” Ymir gripes, then narrows her eyes at me. “You look too smug right now.”

I feign innocence. “Oh, what? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of you and Hisu not being the only couple in the group anymore.”

“You and Porco are homophobic.” She retorts, eyes shooting daggers through my impenetrable soul as Porco closes the door and rejoins me on the loveseat. Since both couples went public, we’ve had to make some adjustments, such as adding a giant bean bag chair capable of fitting two bodies, which they prefer over the previous arrangement.

Historia scolds, “No family drama in front of our new friend, Ymir! Hi, Colt, we’re not as dysfunctional as you think.” She beams at me, winking when she sees Porco throw an arm around my shoulders, pressing a kiss to my temple. “You guys are so cute.”

I hide my face with my hands, and listen to Colt (who has generously chosen the floor as his designated spot) say, “Oh, don’t worry. I know Ymir is the real nightmare, here. I’m always afraid she’s gonna beat me with the baton in the coed relays.”

“I still might.” She threatens.

“Settle down, grumpy grampa,” Marcel warns, “Any more of that talk and we’ll be having a counseling session to resolve your anger issues instead of a movie marathon. Everyone all good? Pieck?” He looks around, receiving a thumbs-up from everyone including Ymir and Hisu as the pair get comfy on the lounger, and Pieck starts the first movie.

“Now who the fuck decided we’re watching all the hobbit movies? I don’t understand why I have to sit through this shit just to watch the desolation of a dragon-I-can’t-pronounce-his-face-“ Ymir’s complaining is cut off.

“-It’s ‘The Desolation of Smog!’” Colt says, then, “Wait- no, that’s not right. Smay-oge?”

“Smaug.” Porco supplies, and Marcel and I give each other the most shit-eating grins anyone will ever see.

In unison, we throw our heads back, shouting, “Shut up, nerd!”

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eartht137 · 3 years

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DEAREST HEART- Letter One

Okay, For The Better has got me at a standstill. Every time I go to write the next chapter, I get a very "bad" idea and I have to write it in to meld with what I have in mind, but as my birthday is approaching in 2 days and Halloween is quickly approaching, I have developed a very new and delicious idea. I thought up this story in the shower. Hear me out, okay? The blinds that cover the window in my bathroom fell, and I mean fell from the wall, so I had to take a shower in the dark with a candle. Well it gets pretty muggy in my bathroom, as there's not a lot of room, so I opened the window to get some air, well with the wind blowing and the leaves rustling I kinda got that weird feeling that someone was watching me (which I highly doubt). In this story the character/you are a new wife and mom and you've been unmotivated to do normal chores and upkeep due to de pression and anxiety. I kinda wanted to touch on some real topics that I felt may resonate as I've noticed there is a lot of depression and anxieties that have been major high and I just wanted to send a small message that you are seen, you are heard, you are worthy, you are loved. Even if it is in your own world, I'd rather have my own world that I can escape to and have things go my way than keep taking on the pressure of things we deal with everyday. Also this is another Dark Clark Kent. I know, I know, the idea of the man just does something to me. So with that curvies, I present to you Dearest Heart. Okay rant over for the day. Please proceed..........oh yeah MMMMMMmwwwwwwaaahhhhhhh

Dark Clark Kent x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Non Con, somnophilia, masturbation, stalking, mentions of impregnation. Maybe other things too. MINORS DNI!!!

You were getting up and ready for work, since starting your new job, you'd found yourself a bit out of balance. Being a new wife and mom, trying to adjust, you'd found yourself falling in and out of a reel of depression and anxiety. You very rarely had the energy or drive to clean and sometimes your depression got you to a point where you didn't really want to keep up your hygiene. Finally, you'd gotten the burst of life you needed and decided to make use of it while you had the drive. You started keeping up your hygiene as you used to and cleaned your house day by day. You started cherishing more moments with your husband and son. You had noticed the more you took effort within the day, it helped you feel a bit better everyday. One day, you stepped outside to get a breath of fresh air and sunlight. As you were getting ready to head back inside, you saw a letter place neatly on the bars of you security door with small rose. You tilted you head in confusion and looked around. You took the letter, seeing that it had "Dearest Heart' written beautifully across the front. You walked inside while admiring the vintage parchment envelope.

"Baby?" Your husband asked curiously, making you look up and smile as he and your son watched you.

"Well I think the mailman left someone else's mail-again." You sighed tossing the letter down on the table by your door. You went over and spent the remainder of you free time with your husband and son before heading into your office and logging on for work.

On your first break, you rushed out of your office hoping to spend time with your loved ones. You giggled as you watched your husband and son sleep with their mouths wide open on your couch. You were about to step into the bathroom when you got the nagging urge to go back and look at the letter again. You stared at it from across the room a moment before finally giving in to curiosity and grabbing it. You studied it for a moment before your husband adjusting on the couch startled you. You quietly went to the bathroom and examined the letter. Looking at your phone, you realized you didn't have much time, and would just open it to see what it looked like inside. A very hopeful side of you prayed that in your head that it was filled with cash that some good saint just felt in their heart to give, but you knew that was a slim chance. When you opened the letter, you almost gasped, almost like a child feeling as if you if you'd just done something forbidden. The alarm on you phone vibrated and you jumped, the letter dropped from you hands. You laughed a bit at yourself, picked up the letter, tucked it away and went back to work.

One your lunch break, after making something to eat for yourself and your hungry boys, you found yourself practically lured back to the bathroom to find the letter you'd tucked away for later. You opened it and pulled out a very beautifully written letter, but the first line damn near made your heart stop. You read it over and over trying to make sure you weren't seeing things, but there it was in black in, your name. You took a deep breath and continued reading the letter.

My Dearest Y/n,

I promised myself I wouldn't try to interfere in your life, but my heart won't let my stand idly by. I know this is abrupt as you've never seen me in your life, at least you don't remember meeting me, its been so long ago; but I can't keep quiet about this anymore as my love for you has yet to subside. I know it sounds unbelievable, but I swore I'd never lie to you and I am a man of my word. You might be a little worried as to how I know you, where you live-but you'd be shocked at how much I know about you and it'd scare you to know how long I've watched over you. Little love, I've been a bit disappointed in you. You allowed yourself to get to far down and instead of talking it out, you've been bottling everything in. We both know how that ends. You can talk to me if you need to, but I was really disappointed in how you allowed things to get. You weren't getting out of bed, you weren't keeping your hygiene up, and you weren't keeping the house up; on top of that, you haven't been utilizing any of your self-care tools. You didn't leave the house for a month and you cried every night by yourself because you're too stubborn to get out of your own head for two seconds and let the people who love you in. You were also finding a new lie every week to call into to work, that was disappointing darling because you don't have to lie, just tell them you need a day for your health, you don't owe them anymore explanation than that, but I don't want you to lie again. Do you remember those 2 weeks your backside was sore and stinging and you couldn't figure out why? I'm so sorry dear heart but I had to light a fire in you some way, and I just can't allow you to behave in such a way. I also can't stand to see the woman I love not take care of herself. On another note, I do want to tell you how proud of you I have been with how much you love and care for our son. He's growing so big isn't he? Oh darling, I know you think he's your husbands, but I guarantee he is my flesh and blood, why do you think he stares at me so long when he sees my photo pass your screen. His blood is my blood, he knows who he is. I have decided dear heart, to be a bit more active in your life as I have come to realize that my standing by protecting in the shadows is not enough. It will be awhile my love, but one day we will be together. You, Me and our son. I love you both so much, I promise you we will be a family as we should one day. For now I will continue to watch from the distance and protect you when you need me. I will also be there to talk whenever you just want to talk out loud. Before I end this letter, I want to also tell you how proud I am that you've started writing. I love the stories you've been writing about me and I promise to fulfill every one of you desires as soon as the time is right. Only this time, you'll be able to enjoy it as much as I have. I will be writing again, you don't have to reply, but it would be nice. Keep up the good work sweetheart, I love you.

With All My Heart and Soul,

Kal-El

Your heart pounded in your ears, you forgot to breath and tears filled your eyes. You kept trying to convince yourself it was a prank, but the more you tried to deny it, the more you knew it was real. You sat thinking to yourself, when you'd written a story about him, you didn't know anyone named Kal-El. You immediately started walking around your house making sure every window and door was locked. You wanted to tell your husband, but once again the gut feeling told you not to, and you'd realized that your gut was really on point and that just made things scarier.

You finished you lunch break and the rest of that day unable to concentrate on anything. That night while you took a shower, you kept looking through the blinds to see if you'd see someone. On one had you wanted to see if there was someone really there and on the other you felt you'd probably shit yourself if you really saw someone. After a moment or two, you'd finally convinced yourself it was a sick prank and someone in the neighborhood was being an idiot. You laughed a bit and finished up, ready to finally get the sleep you'd been begging for all day. As you laid in bed, every noise made you jump. Every time something or someone would move, you'd go from the precipice of sleep to fully awake. You had been feeling watched for the longest time and you'd just blamed it on being crazy, but now with the letter confirming your nightmare, you really had no idea what to do. Your mind ran and ran until it finally shut itself down and you drifted off to a very peaceful sleep despite everything going on around you.

He sat in the corner of your dark room watching you breath calmly. He wanted so badly to go over and rock you to sleep as he watched you struggle to fall asleep, but he couldn't present himself to you just yet, not until everything was perfect the way we wanted it before he showed himself.

He sat there watching you from the other side of the room knowing that soon you'd throw the covers off of your plush body exposing your luscious curves that he loved feeling in his large hands. His hand stroked himself as he thought back to the first night he took you. You were sleeping so good, you didn't hardly move. His released his hard thick cock from their restraints and pumped himself as he watched your breasts rise and fall with your breathing. He thought back to the first time he tasted your nipples, how hard they got when he kissed and nipped them. How wet you got for him and how he once made you cum from playing with them only. He then thought about how delicious you were. His fist moving faster and rougher down his shaft. He remembered how tight you were when he first fucked you. How hot and juicy you were as he pumped deep into your soft pussy filling you with every inch of him. He wanted to ruin you, and he wished you could see the happiness he felt when you couldn't cum one night from yours or your husbands touches. His hand pumped faster as he remembered fucking you so good one night your orgasm woke you as you came, as disappointed as he was that he couldn't feel you cum around him, he was still proud to have your body so responsive for him. That sent him over the edge and he came hard wanting so badly to empty inside of you. He wanted to see you round with his baby again, but he wanted to allow you the time to fully heal. He used one of your husbands shirts to wipe himself clean, and he gave you a soft peck on the lips, smiling when you turned away.

"I love you so much. I promise things will be right soon. Sleep well dearest heart." He whispered before leaving. He couldn't wait until you found his next letter.

#dark clark kent #plus size reader #dark superman #henry cavill #stalking

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turn-your-gaze-on-this-dumptruck · 3 years

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Dyslexic Jonny Anon again (I might find a different name, idk) but I’ve got even more. This time, you’re getting what types of flavors I think the Mechanisms would like (something I think Jonny has spent time subtly learning to give snacks to the crew)

Jonny really likes soft foods like soups and mashed potatoes. Occasionally he’ll add bullets/metal scraps or spare body parts for flavor (of just have them separately for snacks) but he just really likes soft foods

Marius Is a really big fan of sweets, having grown up on a planet where most people didn’t have access to sugary food. It took him awhile to actually have any when he was part of the crew, until one day Jonny learns he’s never had a donut and makes some at like 2am for his crew. Marius never goes back and Jonny loves making tarts and cookies to leave out for him.

Brian doesn’t really need to eat and he doesn’t always taste everything, but he’s a big fan of cooked vegetables and fresh fruits. It’s part of why he has a garden on the ship. Sometimes Jonny takes some when he makes meals for the crew. Brian would complain, but nothing is ever damaged so he lets it go

Nastya really likes things like bread and pasta. Lots of carbs. She thinks they’re delicious and whenever the crew goes to a restaurant with bread bowls, they know to order multiple because she’ll sneak a few for later. Because of this Jonny makes a lot of bread.

Ashes loves spicy food. It’s become a habit for someone to bring back the spiciest food they can find on every planet they go to, and then Ashes challenges some of the others to see who can last the longest after tasting it. Jonny and Tim are the most likely to try, but everyone’s done it at least once. Toy Soldier won once and it’s the only member to ever beat Ashes. Jonny’s had a lot of fun spicing their food.

Raphaella loves bird and fish. If a meal has poultry or some kind of sea food, she’ll eat it. Crab cakes, roasted chicken, baked salmon, geese, she’ll eat it. On the rare occasion the crews spread out and Jonny makes dinner, he loves making these types of meals.

Ivy is a strange mix. She loves chocolate candies (thing like bon-bons and NIPS) but since her mechanisms is her brain, she also eats a lot of brain food. To no ones surprise, she’s got the best eating habits of the crew. Whenever Jonny makes food for her, usually chocolate but sometimes healthy food, he makes extra for himself. Because of this, his diet isn’t actually the worst.

Toy Soldier is like Brian, as it doesn’t need to eat and doesn’t always have taste buds (it has a special tongue, but it doesn’t use it to often) however, it LOVES rough textures. Whenever Jonny makes snacks, he makes sure to purposely burn a few for it.

Tim loves all kinds of food. Put something in front of him and he’ll eat it. But he especially loves British food because it reminds him of back before the lunar war, of times with Bertie and being happy. Jonny has several British cookbooks he uses regularly whenever he feels bad about being the reason Tim was mechanized.

YOU'RE DELIGHTFUL THANK YOU FOR THE CANNON CONTENT

#the mechs #the mechanisms #nastya rasputina #jonny d'ville #toy soldier #raphaella la cognizi #drumbot brian #ashes o'reilly #ivy alexandria #gunpowder tim #marius von raum

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duelistkingdom · 3 years

Text

you’d come back to me

chapter four: robotic

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Summary: Seto Kaiba has been presumed dead for four years after the events of Dark Side of Dimensions. His return causes both unresolved feelings of grief to be brought to the surface and the past to be dragged right back up. In hopes of helping Seto move on and reintegrate back into society at large, Mokuba asks Yugi to work on Spherium II with Seto. Never one to leave a friend hanging, Yugi agrees. Over the course of the project, Seto and Yugi both come to terms with their mutual grief and grow towards a better understanding of each other.

Rating: T

Ships: Yugi Mutou/Seto Kaiba, Mokuba Kaiba/Rebecca Hopkins, Katusya Jonouchi/Mai Kujaku

Warnings: aged up characters, grief, references to suicide

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Despite Reiki’s insistence on continued meetings, Seto had been cleared to go back to work for part time hours. He was certain full time hours were being dangled like a carrot in front of him to make sure he kept going to therapy. Despite this annoyance, he was given the chance to escape Rebecca’s general judgemental stares. It seemed like she was purposefully studying at the dining table just to glare at him. As a bonus, he was able to dodge Pegasus’s phone calls.

He wanted to look at his old projects. Maybe now he could finally objectively examine the AI he’d been working on rather than being so…. What was the word he was looking for? It didn’t matter. Seto had other concerns on his mind. He went back to the room that housed the AI, frowning as he realized the setting seemed to appear different. It was so much more golden now. The false stained glass had a more natural light streaming in from it. And he was surprised when the AI entered. The Pharaoh no longer looked as he did when he possessed Yugi.

Instead, he was regal as he had appeared when Seto met him in his court. He might not have been that tall but he was still imposing nonetheless. Seto’s eyes were drawn to the Pharaoh’s arms, where there was smooth dark skin over taunt muscle. The familiar ache pressed in his chest upon seeing him. He forced himself to look at the Pharaoh’s face. The Pharaoh had an easy going smile on his face, tilting his head slightly. “Been a while, Kaiba,” the Pharaoh stated, a smug look on his face. “Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

Seto was a little surprised but figured that it only made sense. He had no frame of reference for how the Pharaoh actually looked in life when he’d last Dueled this AI. Now he knew how the Pharaoh actually looked and the system must have updated with his memories accordingly. This was, after all, as designed. It was supposed to be as close to an actual living person as technology could get.

“You say that as if you can sense the passage of time,” Kaiba remarked, a frown on his face. Could the AI sense the passage of time? Was he better than he thought? Seto nearly rolled his eyes at himself - of course he was that good. At least Seto was being reminded from the jump that he was good at what he did. “Are we going to Duel?”

The Pharaoh smirked and Seto tried to ignore the odd feeling in the pit of his stomach that gave him. “Impertinent as always, Kaiba,” he said as he activated the Duel Disk on his arm. “I’ll let you start first. Give you a fighting chance.”

A surge went through Seto as he activated the virtual system. Still operating smooth enough though he knew it could be better. Almost anything he created could be better. “Fine by me,” he said as he examined his starting hand. Could also be better. He’d need to reexamine his Deck again. There was an option, though. “I’m activating Cards of Consonance, discarding The White Stone of Legend from my hand to draw two new cards. I’m going to end my turn by summoning Maiden with Eyes of Blue! Make your move, Pharaoh.”

“You know,” the Pharaoh said as he drew a card from his deck. “I like your move so much, I think I’ll copy it. I activate Pot of Greed!”

Kaiba raised a brow. “That card’s banned,” he muttered to himself. Was the AI malfunctioning? Or had the banlist changed while he was gone? Perhaps he should give his programming the benefit of the doubt. After all, Seto’s programming tended to be perfect. He should probably simply reexamine the banlist again. “What are you playing at?”

“You’ll see. I’m also activating Terraforming and using it to put Chicken Game in my hand,” the Pharaoh noted and once again, Kaiba was confused. Another banned card? The AI wasn’t supposed to be able to have banned cards in his deck, so Seto decided that he must take another look at the banlist. “I’m activating the effect of Chicken Game, paying 1000 life points to draw a card.” He looked at the card and smirked. “And now I activate One Day of Peace. We both draw.”

“Fine,” Kaiba said, annoyed. One Day of Peace would prevent him from doing any damage to the Pharaoh the next turn. “Can you hurry up, already?”

“Patience is a virtue, Kaiba,” the Pharaoh teased. Seto instantly froze at the sly smirk and raised brow on the Pharaoh’s face. He was certain that he didn’t remember the Pharaoh being this capable of melting him that quickly. Any retort he had died on his tongue. “I’m summoning Witch of the Black Forest and equipping her with Wonder Wand! Now I activate Wonder Wand’s effect, destroying both her and the equipped card, allowing me to draw two cards. Not only that, Witch’s effect activates, allowing me to search a card out from my deck.” He then raised a brow. “And I have bad news, Kaiba. I’ve won.”

“What,” was all Kaiba could get out. “That’s not possible. You just… oh… oh no.”

“You realize what’s happened, don’t you,” the Pharaoh said as he set the five pieces of Exodia right onto his Duel Disk. Exodia the Forbidden One. How the hell did that happen? Kaiba tried to go over the moves in his head before realizing just how obvious what he was doing was. “Exodo Hell Flame!”

Seto’s entire mind was reeling. Surely this was just based on his memories of the Pharaoh doing this exact move to him during their first duel. Yet… no. It was just an improved version of the Exodia stall that he’d done to him already. Surely he was just thinking about it and the program reacted accordingly, even providing the updated strategy. Why was he so uncomfortable now? “End program,” Kaiba shouted, unable to properly modulate his voice. He had to just calm down, right?

That was exactly it. He was overthinking this simply because the program had dredged up an old wound that never fully scarred over. If he could simply relax, then maybe he could come back again to practice properly tomorrow. Maybe he should look into getting a hotel room tonight and attempt to remotely access the code to make sure he was right about his assumptions. He didn’t want to see Rebecca’s judgemental face again - even less so when he was obsessing about something new.

Of course he’d run into Yugi trying to get out of Kaiba Corp. ‘Run into’ was a fairly apt description as he’d more or less crashed into Yugi. “Watch where you’re going,” Yugi snapped as he got up from the floor. Unfortunately for Seto, Yugi had his sleeves rolled up, revealing that he, indeed, had nice arms. “Are you just gonna stare at me like an idiot or are you going to get up?”

Must Yugi be so insulting? Surely he wasn’t staring at Yugi for that long. “You could have moved,” Kaiba retorted. “Why didn’t you move?”

“I was walking the hallway the way a normal person does,” Yugi said, still having to stare upwards to properly look Kaiba in the eyes. Sure, Yugi was no longer five foot even. Seto, however, was still six foot one and had a height advantage still. Seto was grateful for that. He didn’t know if he could have handled it if Yugi could look him right in the eye without craning his neck upwards. “You were the one who came running down the hallway like a madman. What are you in such a hurry for?”

“I’m not,” Seto said, unhappy that he was obviously blushing. He was, indeed, in a hurry to get out of here. He needed some alone time to think. “I just… have to go.”

Yugi tilted his head and Seto was a little annoyed at how similar it was to the Pharaoh’s head tilt. Must they both have such similar hair? Such similar features? It made it difficult to tell if the feelings Seto was having was simply because of how he’d felt for the Pharaoh or because of something uniquely Yugi.

“You just got here only a few hours ago,” Yugi said, as if trying to puzzle something out. Seto felt instantly exposed. “Why would you rush back home when you’d spent so long trying to even get these part time hours? You know, Mokuba seems to think you and Rebecca don’t get along. Is that not the case?”

Why was Mokuba telling Yugi about how he and Rebecca were getting along? Why would Yugi care? It was none of his business. “It’s none of your business,” Seto snapped. “You shouldn’t be poking in other people’s business.”

“It’s my business if my friend’s girlfriend and my friend’s brother aren’t getting along,” Yugi said, a vaguely amused look on his face. “You know, friends tend to care about things like that. Have you forgotten that Mokuba and I are friends?”

It took Seto awhile to realize that “my friend’s brother” referred to him. There had once been a point when Yugi would visit him when he was in the hospital. This time, Yugi had only visited once and it had been with Mokuba. Had Yugi given up on him? He didn’t know why that thought hurt. “No,” Seto said, clipped. “I hadn’t forgotten.”

“Then are you and Rebecca getting along?”

Seto paused. The truth of it was that Yugi was absolutely right - he and Rebecca were not getting along well. In fact, he’d been considering getting a hotel room for the longest time now. Unfortunately, he had to wait to get his credit cards reissued and a new ID. He’d gotten the new ID yesterday. It had felt strange to look at his passport and see that it claimed he was twenty-one. Time had passed for the rest of the world and stood still for him. Yugi and he were now years apart. Mokuba had grown up in his absence and was now eighteen. It tore him apart. It was unimportant.

“We’re getting along just fine,” Seto said. He wanted to ask why Yugi no longer considered them friends. He was scared of the answer. “Are you done prying?”

Why were Yugi’s eyes like that? He swore that the depth of them might drown him. He swore Yugi knew more than he ever let on. “Suppose I am,” Yugi said. Seto tried to avoid noting the shape of Yugi’s lips when they formed words. He wondered if Yugi was still as good at Dueling as he was four years ago. “You should tell Mokuba you’re leaving early.”

He couldn’t get out of the building fast enough. Maybe it was weird to show up at a hotel and demand a room for the night without any luggage but Seto couldn’t find it in him to care about the optics. The room they’d given him had a single bed and was as empty as any hotel might be. He threw himself onto the bed, looking up at the plain ceiling as the thoughts swirled through his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about the AI taking on the proper form of the Pharaoh and it was an uncomfortable thought. He thought about the thoughts he never tried to think about. The ones that entered his head when he was all alone with no buffers.

Seto hated that these thoughts still had control over him. He refused to let them hold him. He wouldn’t let them hold him. And yet… he couldn’t help but go right back to the thoughts of the Pharaoh’s arms… wondering how his hands might feel on him. A weakness he might never be able to get rid of. He was alarmed when the fantasy managed to warp as the memory of Yugi’s sharp, all knowing eyes came back up. Yugi, who could always see right through him. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t care. Why didn’t Yugi consider them friends anymore? At one point, Yugi had been so insistent on shoving friendship upon Seto. So insistent that they were friends regardless of Seto’s objections.

Now he ached for what he didn’t realize he’d miss. Had he lost out on any chance of fixing that relationship? All he knew was that he desperately needed a cold shower right now.

“Kaiba left early,” Yugi said as he entered Mokuba’s office, tossing the new proposal for Spherium II onto the young CEO’s desk. Mokuba actually looked a little tired. He wondered if the stress was finally getting to Mokuba. “I got the new proposal done, by the way.”

Mokuba glanced up from his computer. “I guess he didn’t appreciate the adjustments you made to the AI’s deck,” Mokuba remarked. “I’ll take a look over the proposal. Did you decide on a new deck for the AI?”

“How did the AI work with the Exodia deck,” Yugi asked as he flopped right into one of the chairs Mokuba had for guests. He didn’t know how this office looked when Seto occupied it but Mokuba had touches of his personality all over the place. The glass cases were filled with hundreds of Capsule Monsters and the oak bookshelves had comic books which Mokuba had been collecting since he was a kid. The chairs were all the same - comfy and oversized. “If it can’t handle the Exodia deck, then we can’t start on more complex archetypes.”

“Seems it pulled off a first turn kill against Seto,” Mokuba said as he turned the monitor around so Yugi could see what was on it. A recording of Seto’s duel played and Yugi’s heart constricted as he noted that the AI now looked exactly as Atem did in life. He tried to ignore that as the AI immediately pulled through the draw combo, obtaining all five pieces in exactly one turn as Mokuba said. “What were you thinking for the next deck?”

Yugi grinned as he looked over at Mokuba. “There’s a few decks that I’m sure will keep Kaiba from noticing anything amiss for the next time he Duels the AI but… there’s one archetype in particular that I’m certain Kaiba will just love.”

Seto knew that he wasn’t making good choices right now but it seemed like every time he dueled the Pharaoh now, he was getting more familiar with the current cards. He found that the AI was rapidly improving in its ability to play other decks. This was something Seto was excited about. Something in his code was responding well to being given new decks to use. It was like Dueling an actual, living person that was capable of understanding card advantage and how to best use the cards in the deck.

Coupling this with the fact that Seto was still trying to get back into the swing of things, he had a perfect excuse for why he needed to keep Dueling the Pharaoh. After all, it’d been four years. He needed practice to get better at the game. If he ever hoped to return to the tournament circuit, this was what he needed to do. That was what he told himself, anyway.

He had a long list of excuses as to why this made perfect sense to do. Sure, kc_blimp had a lot of helpful insights as to what the new meta was but… as far as Seto was concerned, the best way to learn the new archetypes was to actually Duel them.

That was all there was to it. As usual, the Pharaoh was smirking when Kaiba entered the room. This time, however, the room was the palace throne room where Kaiba had challenged Atem. He’d long accepted that the room seemed to change. He made a mental note to examine the code later to see if he could make it more stable rather than randomizing locations from his memories.

“Kaiba,” the Pharaoh said with a slight nod, his earrings twinkling in the light and making quiet clacking noises against the gold on his neck. “I see you’re here for another beat down. You know, you’ve gotten worse at Dueling.”

“Shut up,” Seto said, his cheeks turning pink. It was hard to remain stoic when he knew that the Pharaoh had a point. He hadn’t managed to actually beat any of the modern control decks he’d given the Pharaoh. In this new meta, he discovered aggressiveness was indeed better but the Pharaoh was prepared for this strategy. This was actually useful, however. The Pharaoh was, after all, the best Duelist Kaiba had ever known. It pushed Kaiba to do better each time and sometimes, he got close. Close enough where he knew the fault had been that he’d misplayed his hand. “Maybe if I go first this time..”

“You’ve tried going first already,” the Pharaoh reminded him, raising a brow as he activated his Duel Disk. “Are you ever going to give up?”

Of course not. Seto was nothing if not stubborn. He had a plan this time, however. He’d recently added Call of the Haunted to his deck, a card that had been at the suggestion of kc_blimp for a beatdown deck. And yet, when he drew his first hand, he knew this was going to be an uphill battle. He remembered that kc_blimp said that if he couldn’t summon any monsters on turn one, he'd basically already lost against a turn two deck. Kaiba already had experience with that kind of humiliating defeat against the Pharaoh already. “I set a card,” Kaiba said, well aware it wouldn’t be enough to set a trap. He needed a chance to summon. “I end my turn.”

“Is that really all you have, Kaiba? I expect better of you,” the Pharaoh said with a jovial smile that made Seto’s heart skip a beat. He reminded himself that this was just a Duel with no deeper meaning to it. “In that case, I’m going to set a card. I’ll activate this card, Dragonmaid Welcome. With it, all my Dragonmaid monsters gain 100 attack and defense for each one I control. That’s not all it does but, well, that’s all you need to know for now. Next I summon Laundry Dragonmaid!”

Kaiba had never heard of any of these cards before. He didn’t recall giving this deck to the Pharaoh but he must have. He was surprised when Laundry Dragonmaid was… a girl with dragon features in a purple outfit. He assumed that she might’ve been considered attractive to someone that happened to like girls. In fact, he noted a lot of the newer decks featured girls that Seto assumed were meant to be attractive. She giggled and winked at Kaiba. He recoiled.

“Is that all,” Kaiba asked, surprised to note that the boost only gave her a 600 attack and that she was a level two monster.

“Oh Kaiba, you know better than to assume that’s all there is to my turn! Her effect activates, sending the top three cards from my deck to my graveyard,” the Pharaoh remarked and discarding the top three cards from his deck.

Was milling part of the Dragonmaid strategy? He remembered kc_blimp stating Lightsworn and Twilightsworn heavily relied on milling and that many newer decks had floating graveyard effects similar to cards he’d used in the past. “Next I’m discarding Dragonmaid Tinkhec to activate her effect and give Laundry Dragonmaid an additional 2000 attack! Now, she’ll attack you directly!”

Laundry Dragonmaid’s gleeful demeanor was perhaps the worst part of the direct attack. It hurt and she laughed as she managed to dig her claws deep into Seto. “So you got a new dragon girlfriend,” Seto hissed as he doubled over, holding his chest while his life points went from 8000 to 5400. He wasn’t doing great and he was livid that part of it was simply because of a poor starting hand. He needed to further examine his deck to see how to best avoid this in the future. “Am I supposed to be jealous?”

“Interesting takeaway,” the Pharaoh noted with a grin and a wink at him that sent a flutter in Kaiba’s chest. He hated that even now, the Pharaoh continued to have an effect on him. “Last I checked, she was definitely flirting with you. I end my turn, by the way.”

Seto growled as he drew a card, examining it. Protector with Eyes of Blue. “Fine,” he said. Laundry Dragonmaid blew him a kiss. Once again, he was irked. Maiden with Eyes of Blue was never this unprofessional. It took him a moment to realize he was berating the behavior hologram of a trading card. Who programmed these Dragonmaid cards? Did they all act like this? He made a mental note to look into who programmed them and have them fired.

“By the way, I’m activating my continuous trap, Dragonmaid Downtime,” the Pharaoh remarked casually, as if asking what Seto planned on having for lunch. “With it, I can bounce your cards back to your hand by simply bouncing my own back to my hand. I’ll return Laundry Dragonmaid and bounce your set card.”

It was then he was reminded of another thing kc_blimp said about most traps carrying floating graveyard effects, thus the desire to avoid actually destroying them. In the same message, kc_blimp also claimed that people should not expect to be able to activate traps on their turn. That it was apparently too slow of a strategy to work and Seto was starting to see why. His card returned to hand and he had no hope of activating it this turn.

“Fine,” Seto said again, noting that Protector’s effect might actually be useful… if he had another Light Tuner or a Blue Eyes White Dragon in his hand. It did, however, have more attack points than the Pharaoh’s Dragonmaid. “I’m summoning Protector with Eyes of Blue to the field!”

The Pharaoh raised a brow, a sly smirk on his face. “Nice card,” the Pharaoh teased. “I would think that your type would be a little more dragon and a little less knight, however.”

“Shut up,” Seto said reflexively, knowing that he shouldn’t attack because he didn’t know the full effects of either continuous card on the field. For all he knew, they could stop him from attacking directly. At the moment, Seto didn’t care. He was flustered and angry. “I’m attacking directly!” To his great surprise, Protector’s direct attack landed, dropping the Pharaoh from 8000 to 7200 life points. Seto gave a light ‘tch’. “Surprised you let me do that.”

Of course the Pharaoh hadn’t even flinched from the attack. He merely shrugged. “I thought I would even the playing field a bit.”

“Whatever you say, Pharaoh,” Seto huffed, unsure what the Pharaoh had planned next. This archetype was unfamiliar to Seto and he still was trying to figure out how the effects synergized without knowing the rest of the decklist. He needed to figure out the win condition of this deck. “I end my turn.”

“My turn, then.” The Pharaoh drew a card, a raised brow appearing on his face. “I’m afraid you’ve been playing right into my hands, Kaiba. I’m discarding Dragonmaid Ernus to activate her effect, allowing me to special summon Laundry Dragonmaid back to the field, leaving me a normal summon! Say hello to Nurse Dragonmaid!”

This time, a low level girl with dragon features in pink appeared, giggling and leaning over to whisper something to Laundry Dragonmaid. Both of them had 800 attack, meaning neither of them could destroy Protector with Eyes of Blue without destroying themselves. What was the Pharaoh playing at? Suddenly, Nurse Dragonmaid winked at Kaiba as Laundry Dragonmaid laughed. “I still have the upper hand,” Kaiba responded, clipped. “You’d have to crash one of your monsters to get my life points and that would reduce the other’s attack by 100.”

Both Dragonmaids looked offended by this statement of fact. “Looks can be deceiving, Kaiba,” the Pharaoh responded. “I’m entering my Battle Phase and that causes Laundry Dragonmaid’s effect to activate, special summoning Dragonmaid Nudyarl! Now Dragonmaid Downtime activates, bouncing Nurse Dragonmaid back to my hand and sending your set card back to your hand!”

Kaiba was surprised as he watched Laundry Dragonmaid transform before his eyes into the massive purple dragon, swirling in front with a snarl. Nurse Dragonmaid gave a cheek wave as she dissolved and Kaiba’s set card once again bounced back to his hand. So much for battle traps, Seto thought acidly. The dragon’s stats were good - a level seven with 2700 attack that could easily destroy his monster. “I see,” Seto said. It seemed that the girls themselves were not there for attack but instead to bring out these new monsters. “Clever.”

“Nudyar, attack Protector with Eyes of Blue,” the Pharaoh said. Instantly, Nudyar’s mouth opened, a stream of water washed away Protector and destroyed him. Kaiba gave a soft ‘tch’ as his life points drained down from 5400 to 3500. He was already calculating in his head what he would need to do to counter something like this. “That ends my turn.”

Kaiba drew and was semi grateful for what he grabbed. “I activate Cards of Consonance to discard the White Stone of Legend,” Kaiba said as he started thinking about the best way to handle what the Pharaoh had out. “That allows me to draw two. And because I discarded the White Stone of Legend, I can add a Blue Eyes White Dragon to my hand. Next, I summon Maiden with Eyes of Blue!”

Maiden appeared, flipping her long white hair over her shoulder and glaring down the massive dragon in front of her. As per usual, she was strictly professional. “You really like your Blue Eyes cards, don’t you,” the Pharaoh remarked, a raised brow. “Just like Priest Set did, actually.”

Seto’s blood went ice cold at the mention of Priest Set. He’d met some of the Priests when he’d journeyed to the afterlife and yet… he still felt a disconnect from the reality of the Pharaoh’s existence. It meant that magic was real. He pushed it aside again. “Whatever,” he responded as he set Call of the Haunted and Rage with Eyes of Blue. Perhaps he might stand a chance. “I set two cards and end my turn.”

“My turn! I resummon Nurse Dragonmaid. And now I activate Dragonmaid Welcome to add Parlor Dragonmaid to my hand. Next I’m discarding Dragonmaid Lorpar to negate Maiden,” the Pharaoh remarked and instantly Seto internally swore.

“You targeted Maiden,” Seto said, well aware that Rage with Eyes of Blue cannot activate now. “Her effect activates, summoning Blue Eyes White Dragon to the field.”

The familiar look of the white glow filled the field from Maiden and Blue Eyes White Dragon came out onto the field, snarling at the Pharaoh. “Ah,” the Pharaoh remarked, a raised brow. “In that case, I’m entering the battle phase, activating Nurse Dragonmaid’s effect to special summon Dragonmaid Enrus! And now I discard Dragonmaid Tinkhec to boost Ernus!”

Dragonmaid Ernus was a dragon of a similar shape to Dragonmaid Nudyarl and unfortunately, when boosted, she now had 4800 attack - more than enough to end the duel. At least now he understood the win condition of the Dragonmaid archetype. Seto closed his eyes, and whispered, “Of course.”

“Enrus attacks Blue Eyes White Dragon,” the Pharaoh said and Seto refused to watch as his Blue Eyes White Dragon was destroyed. Even if he activated Call of the Haunted, it wouldn’t matter. Maiden had 0 attack points and her effect was a hard once per a turn. The effect had been used up and now she was defenseless. Seto had no way of redirecting the attack. “And now Nudyral destroys Maiden!”

“End program,” Seto said quietly as his life points hit 0. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in an empty room and left with only thoughts of how to best rearrange his deck. Focusing on that helped as he turned and walked out.

#rivalshipping #rivalshipping fanfiction #dm rivalshipping #duel monsters rivalshipping #dm rivalshipping fanfiction #myfanfic #fic: you'd come back to me

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aestheticwritingz · 4 years

Text

CEO Harry Styles (smut warning)

ceo!harry hot as hell

* Quick note before you start reading. I know I haven’t been here writing for awhile, but I’m back with this sexy thing. I’ve been working on a short book for quite some time and I will let you know when it gets published, if you want to read it. Feel free to send in your requests, and enjoy reading this! ️Also, my masterlist is updated!! <3 *

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“Honey, hurry up, it’s already 8:30!” my dad yelled from the bottom of the stairs. I was still getting ready for this dinner event, organized by my father. It was for his company, they raised money for... I don’t know what. All I knew was that we all had to go, no exceptions. Realizing that I would be having some delicious food and free booze, I decided there wasn’t much harm in going. After all, what could possibly go bad?

Putting on a final touch - silver heels - that complimented my long nude dress very well, I was out of my room. To be honest, I never liked functions like these at my dad’s company. I love the cause and, sure, there were a lot of beautiful men to look at all night, but they were all already taken. Dad mentioned a new CEO, but I’ve never met him. All I knew was that his name was Harry, that he was 27 and youngest CEO they ever had. Most importantly, I knew that he was single. Nonetheless, I didn’t think he would go for a younger girl, especially boss’ daughter - but what’s the harm in looking and fantasizing?

We finally rushed out of the house, and after not a long ride, we arrived. We get inside, trying to get “ugly” looks from our faces - ones that say “we just fought about who takes the longest to get ready”. We got to our table and I could already sense the energy of the night. Lawyers and their obedient wives, newlyweds and way old colleagues. No one with children my age - or even if they were younger, they wouldn’t come to this boring event.

I spent most of my night sitting at the table, having some wine and eating good food, as expected. Observing people is the only fun thing I could do at fancy dinners like this, but I still didn’t spot the famous Harry Styles. The night was wearing off, as I thought, until I glanced at the door.

There he was, taking his long black coat off and handing it to the person behind the desk in charge for coats and jackets. His unusual silky suit glistened under the bright lights, but I couldn’t notice his figure quite well - until he got closer. He was taller than I imagined and he could pull off the distinctive suit really well. His long curls sat well on his shoulders and complimented his face in a way I haven’t seen before - considering the only men I see often are freshmen with buzz cuts at my college. Harry seemed intimidating from afar, greeting all his colleagues. I could see the slight smirk on his face and polite laugh when he’s speaking. Even though he was well dressed for this occasion, I couldn’t help but look at his hands, beautifully accessorized with a few rings - I’m sure it caught my attention because it was always such a turn on for me. I fidgeted in my seat when I saw him walk in our direction and noticed his gaze on me once he got close to us. He watched me through furrowed eyebrows, probably because he had never seen me before.

Harry shook my father’s hand and they started chatting incoherently,or at least something I didn’t pay attention to. I was quite honestly blown away by how beautiful he was, it was almost intimidating. He was uncomfortably beautiful, the kind where you just felt awkward to be in the same room with the person. Nonetheless, I didn’t show it. I never would. His low and raspy voice interrupted my thoughts and I quickly snapped out of them.

“Don’t want to be impolite. My name is Harry,” and stuck out his hand to shake mine. His gaze fixated intently on my face left me charmed and that’s when I first noticed his green eyes. I reciprocated saying “Nice to meet you. My name is Y/N.” with smile that could certainly hide the nervousness in my stomach. “Nice to meet you too.” he said and continued talking with my parents. From time to time, I could notice him looking at me, mostly up and down, which made him form a smirk on his face. Somewhere in the background, a slow song started so my parents decided to dance and just as I thought this could be my moment to talk with Harry, he was nowhere in sight. Then I realized, or rather fantasized that this was his way of playing hard to get. Playing the games I hated the most. However, it takes two to play this one, and I was intended to win. Even when he thought he would get by unnoticed, I could certainly see him staring at me from across the room. He even winked at me, and when he least expected it, I winked back.

Still, he caught me off guard, when I least expected as well. I was just scrolling through something on my phone, when I felt the chair I was sitting on weigh down. At this point, his head was right next to mine, and his hands rested on the back of the chair. He bent down and I could feel his cologne and his cold necklace gently grazing my naked shoulder, making every hair on my body rise up.

“I know you already,” he said, not breaking the gaze with the people on the dance floor. “Yeah? Where from?” I said calmly, even thought what I felt on the inside was far different than calm. He decided to sit down next to me, pointing at the waiter to bring him another glass of whiskey. “Remember that club downtown, a year or two ago? We were dancing and then you told me you were sixteen at the time-”

“Here you go, sir.” waiter said and Harry politely nodded. “-that was quite a night, if I remember well.” Harry took a sip of his drink and grinned, looking ahead of us. How could I forget that? Well, he certainly looked way different. Two years ago, he was in tight black jeans, vans and simple black shirt. He had shorter hair as well, but now - he looks like...an adult. Everything started coming back to me, the night of my friend’s 17th birthday, we decided to go to a club - we were way tipsy to remember how we got inside without an ID. Long story short, I was dancing with Harry, and completely backed out when he asked me to get out of there. I told him my age and he respectively left my sight. He was pretty drunk and the whole thing didn’t last more than fifteen minutes - obviously not enough to remember, either way the whole night was pretty hazy.

“Oh,” I said. “Well, I guess we meet again. How do you even remember that?”

“Well, sweetheart.. I can handle my alcohol and remember things, unlike you obviously.”

“I guess. I have a chance to redeem myself tonight, hopefully.” I winked, feeling way more confident considering how charming Harry was. He picked up on what I was saying pretty quickly and responded with a flirty smirk and proceeded to lick his lips.

We continued talking for over an hour. Sharing funny stories and things from each others lives. How he became more serious about himself, work and adult life. Still, he seemed very mysterious leaving some things out, which made me want to know more. Made me want him even more. Every detail about him was noticeable. The way he talked, moves his hands and lips, the way he shifted in his seat when I made a dirty joke - which he seemed to like very much. There was an instant connection, lust and desire between us that could be felt from miles away and Harry could feel it too. Through alcohol haze that we both felt, it was very clear he wanted to kiss me and I couldn’t say I wouldn’t kiss back. He would look at my eyes, lips, then neck and shoulders, which were uncovered for him to leave kisses all over.

“I have to go to the restroom.” I said getting up, wishing he would follow me and have all of me then and there. Yet, he didn’t. He stayed seated and ordered another drink.

I checked myself out in the mirror, rearranging my dress to fit me well again after wrinkling in that chair the whole night. Thought about how Harry truly was different than any guy I had met before. I was never easy to have, I was always polite and friendly with new people I meet, yet this man could take one look at me and I would strip naked without questions asked. There was something about him that I really couldn’t put my finger on, but I would let him have all of me. After all, can’t a good girl have some fun from time to time?

I went out of the restroom and found myself in an empty hallway, not a person in sight.

“Pssst,” I heard passing the coat room. It was Harry, motioning with his finger for me to get in. “It’s finally happening.” I thought to myself as I checked my surroundings and entered the coat room.

As expected, I was pinned to the wall shortly after entering the room. Harry wrapped his arm lightly around my neck and lifted my chin with his thumb. “Good job acting like a good girl,” he said, lust written all over his face. From a friendly Harry to a dark lustful one, what a surprise. “Acting like you didn’t fuck me with your eyes the whole night.”

Low, raspy voice left goosebumps all over my skin as Harry traced over them with pads of his fingers, up and down on my arm. When I leaned to kiss him, he pinned me back against the wall. “Waited all night to kiss me, now you can’t hold on a little longer, huh?” he said lifting my leg up and wrapping it around his waist, thankfully it was literally free because of the cut on the side of my dress. He gently caressed the front and back of my thigh and I was becoming impatient. Finally, he squeezed my thigh harder, moved his other hand from my neck to my face and kissed me roughly.

If something else could tell he was the dominant one, it was the kiss he obviously led. It was far from gentle, he kissed me hungrily, like he was anticipating the moment for so long, and he finally got it. His lips molded over mine in passionate and rough kiss and without a notice, he slipped his tongue in and played with mine. I held his waist tightly, then grabbed the back of his neck in order to pull him even closer to me. I felt his semi-hard dick rub on my core, which already added to the wetness that was forming on my lacy underwear. He moved his hand from my neck slowly down across my collarbones, grabbing my breast.

“No bra? I guess you are a bad girl after all,” he said palming my breast through the thin dress. I whimpered softly in his mouth, which only made him more eager to see what his next moves could make me do.

There was a desk in the room and, in a few swift moves, he picked me up and placed me on the desk. He spread my legs so he could come in between them. I was desperate for his touch. It was becoming unbearable and he knew it, he just wanted to play with me more - and he was winning. Bottom of my dress was completely lifted and spread out on the table, and once he had a sight of my wet lacy underwear, he chuckled and lifted an eyebrow.

“Already this wet for me, dear?” I could only nod. He liked that I was falling apart from his touch, he loved the fact that I was this desperate. This felt like a hook up in an after hours club, except the fact I would never let anyone come this far. Still, Harry was very different and I couldn’t care less at the time.

With my permission, his hand traveled across my breasts to my inner thighs. Cold breeze of his rings - the ones that drove me crazy - were giving a special sensation to my already sensitive skin. He continued to kiss me roughly while teasing me to no extent. His fingers finally moved over to my clothed clit, rubbing circles and preparing me for what comes next. I let out a few messy moans, especially when he started kissing my neck, gently biting and then blowing hot air on marks he left. My body was exploding with different kinds of senses, and I wanted one more.

“I want you inside of me,” I panted barely audible, only to feel him smirk on my chest. What made him speed up his actions was me starting to palm his prominent bulge through the thin material of his pants. Low groan elicited from his throat and made him push my panties to the side. He ghosted his fingers over my wet slit, rubbing my clit up and down - sliding easily and teasing my entrance, until I was becoming more impatient than before.

“So wet for me.. What do you want baby girl?”

“Please,” is all I managed to say.

“I want to hear you say it. What do you want?” He repeated and stopped his actions all together.

“Your fingers deep inside of me, Harry.” I barely managed to request.

“Now that’s a good girl.” he said and did as I pleased. Two fingers curled and thrust inside of me searching around for my spot. Harry watched my face, my eyebrows furrowing and eyes closing. He sped up his pace, only to slow down again and rub my clit with the pad of his thumb. He was enjoying this way more than he should, considering I stopped touching him - which was very hard to focus on at the moment.

“I bet you taste good, too, huh?” he said, pretty content that he got me in this state. He pulled fingers out of me and licked them, closing his eyes and moaned.

“Would love to have you cum all over my mouth now,” he said. “Why don’t you try it yourself?” he said and I opened my mouth. He pushed two fingers in my mouth and I sucked them as seductively as I could, considering my core wanted more of him. With his free hand, he pulled the top of my dress down, revealing my breasts. He played with them, rubbing my nipples between his fingers and tracing over them with his cold rings. I couldn’t handle it anymore, so I pulled his hand to my pussy, begging for him to touch it. That only turned him on even more and he used his other hand to take off my panties and continue the fingering that he started. This time, he thrust faster, hitting every spot I needed him to hit, and I held on his shoulders. My moans got louder, so he put his hand over my mouth, which made me more turned on, if possible.

After some time of messy kisses, his fingers fucking me senselessly and other hand playing with my breasts, I was close to an orgasm and I wanted to let him know.

“Harry, I’m so close, please don’t stop,” I moaned out, way louder than I should’ve. He decided to encourage me and slipped a few dirty words out, which only brought me closer to my high.

“Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me?”

“Yes,”

“Cum all over my fingers, baby girl, come on,” and that’s all it took for me to spill all over his fingers. I held onto his shoulders, squeezed them so hard that he could certainly feel it. My head was spinning with pleasure I never felt before with a guy and I moaned his name repeatedly until I was coming from my high. He pulled his fingers out and licked them clean and we continued to kiss, like we never kissed each other before.

I decided it was time to return a favor that could possibly lead into something more, so I undid his belt and unzipped his pants.

And that’s when we heard the voices in the hallway.

We quickly fixed our clothes, but nothing could help the way our faces looked, the way my makeup was smudged and my hair was messy. He took my panties and put them on the inside pocket of his suit saying “These are mine now, sweetheart.” I obliged even if those were one of my favorite panties.

An old colleague of Harry’s entered the room, looked at us confusingly and started searching for his coat.

“Party is over, Mr. Smith?” Harry said and the older man nodded. “Yes. Did you kids have fun?”

“Sure did, we wanted to talk but couldn’t hear each other over the loud music.” Harry saved the situation while I was just standing there, still unable to comprehend what’s going on and what happened five minutes ago.

“Sure. See you on Monday, Harry.”

We left the room shortly after the older man and went to the main space where the party was.

“You are so fucking hot. I’m still hard, it’s very hard to cover it. Knowing you are naked under that dress is not making it easier.” he whispered sternly to my side, waving to his colleagues that were leaving, clearly displeased he couldn’t have more of me.

“I will pay you back, Harry. I promise.” I winked and proceeded to my parents’ table. “Come and say bye before you leave.”

“Will do.” he responded.

“Where were you?” my parents started to ask questions but all I could think about was Harry and my wish for this fire he started, continues it’s pace. I could barely walk because my thighs were shaking, so I very was pleased when I heard we were heading home. Even though I wanted to stay and just look at Harry all night, I was in a big need of shower and bed.

My parents said their goodbyes to everyone and Harry was last. After shaking hands with my parents, he approached me and politely hugged me.

“You were lovely, dear. I want to see more of you.” and kissed my neck lightly, subtly. He handed me a piece of paper, which I reckoned was his number.

“In case you want to pay me back. Oh, and I love the fact that I make you go home naked underneath that dress. It makes me hard and I will be thinking about you all night.”

“Is that so? See you soon, Harry.” I said after writing my number on his arm, above his palm.

Ride in a car seemed longer than usual and I tried not to squeal from excitement of tonight’s events. Even though Harry got me to my high, to a high so intense I never felt before, I found myself more eager and hungry for him. And that’s when I got a text.

“I can’t wait. Meet me in front of your house at 3 AM. H. “

PART 2

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messrprcngs · 4 years

Text

* MIXED SIGNALS .

SUMMARY : y/n is a kind-hearted, occasionally rude slytherin who’s friends with charlie weasley, a gryffindor in her year. y/n has obvious feelings for him, and their mutual friends are constantly telling her that they think charlie is into her as well. so y/n does the one thing she swore to herself she’d never do : tell charlie about her feelings for him. PAIRING : charlie weasley x female!reader WARNINGS : badly written flangst. badly written in general. reader punches charlie in the face, and charlie’s a bitch. WORD COUNT : 4945 words. this is by FAR the longest thing i’ve ever written. i’m so sorry A/N : hey guys, i’m back with another fic ! this one’s to ( hopefully ) cheer my best friend lizzie up because she has a huge crush on this boy who she thinks doesn’t like her back. unfortunately, she refuses to tell her that i keep calling him a bitch. this is somewhat based on her situation, and i used she/her pronouns to hopefully make it a bit more personal to her. love you lizzie !! f/n = friend’s name ( your slytherin friend ) g/f/n = gryffindor friend’s name

when she first met charlie weasley, y/n l/n had made herself a promise: she was not going to develop a crush on him, no matter how attractive she found him or how kind his eyes looked.

needless to say, y/n broke that promise. almost immediately, actually.

within weeks of being paired up with him in potions for something snape had nicknamed “forced integration,” y/n was beginning to look forward to seeing him during classes, much to the chagrin of her fellow best slytherin friend f/n.

“the whole dorm’ll be after you if they find out you’ve got the hots for a weasley,” f/n had told her on the walk to potions after catching her staring at him in transfiguration one afternoon.

y/n had choked on her spit and turned to face f/n so quickly that she got whiplash. “what in merlin’s beard are you on about? i don’t - ! i could never - for charlie weasley?”

f/n had simply raised one neatly plucked eyebrow and said, “i didn’t say i was referring to charles,” to which y/n had turned away from them and grumbled to herself, a burning heat covering her face.

since then, f/n had warmed up to the idea of y/n having a crush on charlie, and found great pleasure in teasing her about it, as they were doing right now.

“y/n and freckles, sitting in a tree. k - i - s - s -”

“oh, sod off! that’s so childish. what are you, nine?” y/n complained, pushing her lunch around on her plate. she was very steadily beginning to lose her appetite.

“please,” her gryffindor friend g/f/n piped up from next to f/n, “we all know that f/n’s a five year old at heart.”

y/n and f/n were sitting with g/f/n and their other close friend nymphadora tonks - or just tonks, as she preferred - at the hufflepuff table, as it was the only one that would allow all four of them to dine together in relative peace.

f/n looked playfully livid at g/f/n’s comment. “shut up! just because you don’t know how to have any fun doesn’t mean -”

“i’ll have you know, i’m plenty of fun!” g/f/n scoffed, seeming genuinely insulted.

“now, now, you two. i believe that you’re forgetting the point of this conversation: teasing our dear y/n about her oh-so-obvious love for charles weasley,” tonks said, successfully interrupting the other two’s bickering.

wicked smirks spread across g/f/n’s and f/n’s faces, and y/n rolled her eyes, exasperated.

“it’s not love, dora! please, it’s hardly even a crush.”

tonks chose to ignore the other girl’s use of part of her first name and instead said: “yeah, right. we all know that’s a lie, love.”

g/f/n nodded very seriously. “i hate to break it to you, y/n, but you’ve got a huge crush on the lad.”

“though we’ve no idea why,” f/n added.

y/n wrinkled her nose at the pair. “alright, so maybe i like him, just a little bit -”

“more than just a little bit.”

“- but” y/n sent tonks a pointed glare “it’s not love. and besides, even if i did like him as much as you lot think i do, he doesn’t see me like that. we’re just friends.”

“just friends my arse,” g/f/n snorted.

“it’s incredibly obvious he likes you too, y/n,” f/n said.

y/n wasn’t convinced, and it must’ve shown on her face, because both of them rolled their eyes.

“we’re being serious, you know!” g/f/n cried as she bit into a roll. covering her mouth to finish her thought, she mumbled, “you can just tell with the way he is with you during potions. he’s not like that with the rest of us.”

all five of them were in n.e.w.t.s level potions, for a number of reasons. for y/n and g/f/n, it was because they liked the class, though they both found snape . . . a bit sketchy, to say the least; for tonks and charlie, they took the class because their dream careers required it; and f/n took the class because that was what was expected of them, seeing as they came from a whole family of slytherins.

because they all took the class, they’d become closer friends and often walked to and from the dungeon classroom with each other, which was a plus for y/n - it meant she spent more time with charlie. unfortunately, it also meant that her other friends had more time to witness them together and more fuel for their insane theory that charlie liked her, thereby getting the hopes up of the teensy bit of herself which wholeheartedly believed he did like her.

“right . . .” y/n said slowly, setting her fork down and taking a sip of her water instead. “anyway, how do you all think you did on the -”

“ow!” she cried as tonks elbowed her in the ribs, and her water spilled all over her robes and her lunch plate. “what in godric’s name was that for?!”

“charlie’s looking at you from the gryffindor table, love,” tonks replied, smirking.

y/n let her jaw drop open in horror. “you elbowed in the ribs for that?”

tonks raised her eyebrows, glancing pointedly between y/n the gryffindor table in front of them. “he’s still looking at you.”

rolling her eyes, y/n looked in the direction of the gryffindor table, and sure enough, she locked eyes with charlie weasley. she gave him a small smile, and he grinned and sent her a wave.

g/f/n, who had turned to see if tonks was right, turned back around to face y/n. she gave a single, definite nod. “he definitely likes you, y/n.”

y/n and tonks had transfiguration together after lunch. unlike n.e.w.t.s. level potions, there were a number of students in mcgonagall's n.e.w.t.s. level transfiguration class, because unlike snape, mcgonagall's n.e.w.t.s. exam was reasonable.

because of the large number of students taking the course, the need arose for them to be separated by house to manage class sizes: a class right after breakfast with most of the gryffindors, a class halfway before lunch with the ravenclaws and the small number of left over gryffindors, and a class after lunch for the slytherins and hufflepuffs.

it was on the walk to transfiguration, once they’d left their other two friends behind, that tonks began her favorite discussion to have with y/n.

“really, y/n/n,” she said, bumping her elbow into the other girl’s arm. “you’ve got a great chance with weasley; we can all tell he likes you. you should just shoot your shot already.”

tonks had picked up the muggle phrase awhile ago, and y/n didn’t like it one bit.

“i’ve already told you!” y/n groaned. “he doesn’t like me like that. will you please drop it, tonks?”

tonks clicked her tongue. “sure, i’ll drop it.” y/n breathed a sigh of relief. “if you really don’t want to believe that your crush has feelings for you, too.”

y/n turned to her looking very cross. “name one reason why i should believe you when you say he likes me.”

tonks was silent as the pair began to climb one of hogwarts’ moving staircase. she was quiet so long, in fact, that y/n thought that she’d made her point, and couldn’t help feeling a tad disappointed; the fight to get her to confess couldn’t be over that quickly, could it ?

apparently not, because just as y/n had the thought, tonks said, “he’s more of a bitch when he’s with you.”

“excuse me?”

“i mean it in a good way. he annoys you more, on purpose. he’s still nice, obviously - if he weren’t nice you wouldn’t like him - but you know when he takes your purple quill without asking first because he knows you hate it when people tough your quills?”

y/n nodded.

“well, he does it because he wants to get a reaction out of you. probably thinks you’re cute when you’re mad, or something cliche like that.”

“is that all?” y/n questioned, clearly unconvinced. tonks shook her head as they turned the corner a few doors down from transfiguration.

“when he’s not annoying you on purpose, he’s listening to you talk as if he actually cares about what you have to say, which he clearly does. he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, too, but thinking too long about that part makes me a bit nauseous.”

y/n wrinkled her nose. “tonks, how do know so much about boys if you’re only into girls?”

tonks’ grin as they got to the transfiguration door was devilish. “because i’ve had to save far too many witches from boys who don’t really like them, and i’ve come to have a second sense for these things.”

the pair was silent as they entered the class. they were silent as they took their seats in the middle of the room, and they were silent yet as they pulled their supplies from their book bags. and then: “do you . . . do you really think that i should tell him, tonks?”

she gave y/n a sweet, genuine smile, her eyes soft. “of course, love. there’s no way he’ll say no to you.”

over the course of the next couple of days, y/n thought long and hard about what tonks had said. did she really think that charlie liked her as more than a friend? maybe. she wasn’t sure if she actually thought that she did or if her hope that he did was just so strong that she’d convinced herself.

either way, she figured that if all three of her closest friends could agree on something, it must’ve been at least partly true.

when saturday came, y/n had made up her mind: she was going to tell charlie how she felt about him.

she found him in the library after she’d finished breakfast. it was his self-allotted study time, and he was there every saturday after breakfast without fail. y/n felt a bit bad knowing she’d be interrupting his studying with her confession, but she hoped that what would happen after she confessed would make her interruption worth it.

he was sitting at a table hidden behind a number of bookshelves, and y/n took a moment to admire him.

he was absolutely gorgeous, no matter what her friends said. his face and neck were covered with freckles, with the highest spattering concentration going across his sharp nose and the tops of his cheeks. they were on the backs of his hands, too, and y/n had noticed a few times when charlie rolled up his sleeves during potions that he had freckles dancing up his arms as well.

his hair was fluffy and unkempt, and a little longer than y/n figured his parents liked. but y/n adored his hair, and wanted desperately to run her fingers through it.

which you’ll get to do, she reminded herself, if you stop being a coward and go over there and tell him.

so she walked closer to his table, and in the blink of an eye she was standing across from him saying, “hey, charlie! can i sit here?”

charlie looked up at her and smiled a bright, kind smile that took her breath away. he was absolutely adorable, and y/n absolutely hated it.

“sure thing, y/n,” he said, watching her as she pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. he looked back up to her face, meeting her eyes again, and his smile grew wider.

“so, y/n, what’re you up to on this fine morning?”

y/n looked away, fiddling with her fingers on the table. “oh, you know. nothing . . . much. had a couple muffins for breakfast.”

charlie laughed. “is that all? that’s not a very balanced diet, y/n/n.”

“oh, shut up!” she replied, her face heating up a bit. “you hardly eat anything for breakfast other than waffles; why should i listen to you?”

“at least i eat them with blueberries,” charlie said with a shrug, looking back down to his parchment to scribble something down.

“and i eat my muffins with jam, like a normal person.”

“i’m offended to know that you think i’m not normal just because i prefer butter to jam,” charlie said, but the still-present smile on his face told y/n that he wasn’t, in fact, all that offended.

“but why’d you really stop by to visit me, y/n? i find it hard to believe that you’d come into the library this early in the morning just to discuss eating habits with me.”

y/n bit her lip, and began to clean her nails to give her nervous hands something to do. “well . . .” she began, making eye contact with him before quickly looking away again. “i wanted to tell . . . i mean, i wanted to let you know that, um -”

“come on, y/n, out with it! you can tell me whatever it is, i promise,” charlie encouraged. y/n looked back up at him, and found that his bright grin had been replaced by a soft smile, warm and inviting, and y/n found herself blurting it out all at once.

“i like you, charlie! really like you! in a more than friends kind of way!”

charlie’s smile drooped into a puzzled frown, and y/n felt an embarrassed heat crawl its way up her arms.

“oh? oh . . . i’m sorry, y/n . . .” charlie said, looking away from her, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. sorry was never good.

“it’s just i - i don’t like you like that, love. you’re a wonderful girl - a wonderful friend, really - and i’m flattered, i am, but . . . you’re really . . . just a friend.”

there’s no way he’ll say no to me my arse. apparently, charlie weasley could say no to her quite easily.

y/n swore she felt her heart stop beating, and it dropped down into her stomach like a stone.

despite this, she smiled at him and said, “oh, that’s alright. i understand, charlotte.”

charlie scrunched up his nose at the nickname. “you’re really alright?” he asked, voice dripping with sincere concern, and despite the fact that her heart was solid as a stone in the pit of her stomach, y/n felt it melt a little.

“‘course i am,” she told him. “i just wanted you to know; i wasn’t looking for my feelings to be reciprocated” - a lie, but charlie didn’t need to know that - “so you’re all good, charlie.”

he looked unconvinced, but didn’t say anything about being so. instead, he said, “i am really sorry, y/n.”

“stop apologizing when you have nothing to apologize for, you git,” y/n teased as she stood up from the chair she’d been sitting in and pushed it in. “now, that was lovely, really it was, but i have to be going now. i promised g/f/n i’d go with her to talk to snape about our last essay.”

that was also a lie: g/f/n wasn’t the type of student to need to talk to professors about her assignments, and even if she was, there was no way in hell that she’d’ve gone to talk to snape, even if it was with y/n.

charlie smiled at her again and waved goodbye. “see you in potions on monday!”

y/n, who had just begun to walk away, turned back and called, “see you in potions, charlotte!” before making her way to the great doors of the library, fighting back tears all the way.

after a day and a half of moping and eating ice cream for dinner, y/n had decided that she was going to make being only friends with charlie work, for both their sakes. she enjoyed his company too much to cut ties with him - too much, even, to ignore him for only a few days - and so going back to only seeing him as a friend was the best option for making sure he wasn’t uncomfortable and she didn’t have a broken heart.

seeing charlie as only a friend proved to be more difficult than she’d anticipated, though. she hadn’t realized she’d liked him as much as it seemed she did, so when she walked into potions the monday after being friend-zoned, telling herself he was strictly a friend now, and found him already turned around in his seat waiting for someone - waiting for her, it seemed, if his grin upon meeting her eye was anything to go by - y/n had the breath knocked out of her.

and was it just her, or had charlie been acting overly-interested lately? in the following weeks, y/n noticed that charlie would do . . . little things, little things that he hadn’t done before she told him she liked him.

he often found excuses to touch her during potions now. he would spread his legs a little wider than usual and rest his knee against her thigh, or lean a little farther to the left, a little closer to her, so that their elbows - sometimes even their whole forearms - were touching.

he’d stopped stealing her quills so often, and had begun to always offer to get up to get ingredients for the potions they made in class. he snuck chocolate frogs into snape’s classroom for her on occasion, too. his excuse was always that he’d seen them hiding in his trunk and decided to bring one in for her on impulse since he knew she got hungry in class, but he’d done it too often now for it to be a coincidence.

it was all very confusing, and y/n didn’t like it one bit. when it had first started happening, her friends had left it alone, not teasing her about how charlie was acting because y/n had told them about her train-wreck of a confession.

they’d all assumed that charlie was only being extra nice to instill the idea that him and y/n were just friends, even if it did seem suspiciously like things someone would do for someone they had feelings for; charlie was a bit daft sometimes, and the group had no doubt that this was one of the occasions where the boy just didn’t know what he was doing.

but they could only hold back on their teasing for so long, and it started up again when charlie decided to sit with them at the hufflepuff table one day.

“he sat with us because he likes you,” g/f/n had said matter-of-factly, which caused y/n to roll her eyes.

“he told me he doesn’t,” she’d sighed, dragging the duh in ‘doesn’t’ out for emphasis.

g/f/n had looked by no means convinced.

that day had turned into two, which turned into three, which turned into five and then ten, and sooner than they knew it their meal-time group of four was expanded to a meal-time group of five.

charlie always squeezed in next to g/f/n, no matter which side of the table she sat at, which made y/n a little jealous, though she constantly reminded herself she had no right to be. charlie didn’t like her - he’d said so himself, to her face. so what if he’d been acting like maybe he liked her? he didn’t.

y/n groaned, taking the open seat on the other side of g/f/n at the hufflepuff table. “remind me again why it’s not friday yet?”

“because it’s only wednesday,” g/f/n replied, munching happily on her morning muffin.

y/n groaned again, falling against g/f/n and burying her face in her shoulder. “i don’t want to go to charms this early in the morning.”

“you go to charms this early in the morning every day, loser” f/n said, and tonks snickered.

y/n didn’t even lift her head up. “don’t care; i stand by what i said.”

“how’d you sleep, y/n?” charlie’s question was so strange that y/n just had to sit up straight, and peered around g/f/n to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“i slept fine, charlie,” she told him, and took a bite of an apple before continuing. “how . . . did you sleep?”

charlie shrugged. “slept fine. but uhm . . .” he looked down at the table. “there’s a hogsmeade trip saturday, and i was wondering if . . .”

“we’d love to go with you, charlie!” g/f/n cried. “unfortunately, f/n and i are busy, so you and y/n and tonks’ll have to go alone.”

charlie looked startled by g/f/n reply, but grinned at her anyway. “wonderful. just what i wanted to know. it’s a shame you two can’t be joining us, though.”

“i don’t know if i can go, either,” tonks piped up. “i’ve got . . . er, certain matters to deal with here at school.” when you looked up at her in mild alarm, she merely shot you a wink and went back to her oatmeal.

“what she means,” f/n said with a roll of their eyes, “is that she’s got plans to sleep with that ravenclaw girl she’s been eyeing for the past three weeks.”

tonks shrugged, clearly unashamed, and you wrinkled your nose.

“and with that lovely mental image,” you began, swinging your leg over the bench and picking your book bag up from next to you, “i bid you all goodbye.” you picked up a muffin from the plate in the middle of the five of you for the walk to flitwick’s class. on second thought . . . you thought, and reached over to grab two more.

“going to flitwick’s so soon, are we, love?” tonks asked, setting her fork down and resting her chin in her palm.

y/n rolled her eyes, but she didn’t get the chance to respond, as charlie turned around towards her and said, “i’ll come with you!” before shoveling a last bit of egg into his mouth and standing, his book bag already over his shoulder.

y/n blinked. the two of them didn’t have charms together - the slytherins had it with the ravenclaws - so she was confused as to why he wanted to leave with her when she was going in the opposite direction (he had care of magical creatures first thing in the morning, and y/n knew that for a fact).

but instead of asking about it, she simply shrugged, said “alright,” and started walking away from the hufflepuff table, not bothering to wait for charlie.

of course, waiting wasn’t an issue, seeing as he had a good few inches on her, and long legs to boot. within seconds, charlie was matching her stride for stride and then some.

they walked to the doors of the great hall in silence, and y/n couldn’t help but wonder if it was as awkward as she felt it was.

when they exited, she kept walking straight, towards the large staircase in the entrance hall. she’d barely taken two steps, though, when a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the right. y/n gave a small yelped, startled, and landed against one of the great hall’s open doors with a soft thump.

she found charlie looking down at her, leaning against the door as well. his hand still held her wrist, and his other hand came up to hold her forearm lightly. he was standing too close for comfort - read: to close for just friends - and y/n’s face flushed.

“charlie?” she said his name like a question, though she wasn’t sure what she was asking.

charlie gave her a smile, and it was very unlike his usual smiles: whereas his usual smiles were broad and beaming, this one was small and soft, and it was making y/n very confused.

“you know, i wasn’t going to ask the whole group if they wanted to go to hogsmeade on saturday,” he said, voice as soft as his smile. y/n felt her heart drop into her stomach, very much like it did weeks ago when he’d told her she was just a friend.

“you weren’t?”

he shook his head, and when it stilled y/n noticed that he was glancing between her eyes and her lips. she sucked her lips into her mouth, slightly panicked and very nervous. they were just friends! so why did it look to y/n like charlie really wanted to kiss her?

he didn’t say anything else, so instead she asked, “who . . . who were you going to ask?”

charlie shuffled a bit closer to her. “you,” he said, and he was staring into her eyes so intently that y/n felt the panic bubbling up from her gut. it bubbled up into her throat like bile, and suddenly y/n was so overwhelmed that she did the first thing she could think of.

she pulled her arm up - quickly - and punched charlie weasley straight in the nose.

charlie cried out, his hands flying up to cover his nose as he jerked back. “what the bloody hell was that for?!”

“i’m sorry, i panicked!” she said, eyes wide with horror. she really hadn’t meant to punch him; it was simply impulse.

good luck telling that to mcgonagall.

“what in godric’s name made you so panicked that you punched me?!”

“you were being a bitch!” both of them were yelling, and y/n was surprised that no one had come out of the great hall to see what all the yelling was about.

“i was being a bitch?” he asked, incredulous. “how?”

“you - you were sending a bunch of mixed signals and -”

“so you punched me?!”

“yes!”

charlie pulled his hand away from his nose and inspected it. his nose wasn’t bleeding - which didn’t surprise y/n in the slightest, because the punch had been horrible - but it was an angry shade of red, more violent and unflattering even than his hair.

when he was satisfied, he looked back at y/n. “what mixed signals was i sending?”

he didn’t sound angry, which relieved y/n beyond belief. “you - you wanted to . . . go with me to hogsmeade,” she said, sounding unsure.

charlie cocked his head, like a curious puppy. “and so you punched me in the face?”

y/n felt her face burning again. godric, why was she so prone to doing that around this boy?

“alone,” she said defensively, folding her arms over her chest and letting herself slouch a bit. “you wanted to go with me to hogsmeade alone.”

charlie opened his mouth, but y/n cut him off before he could say anything. “and the chocolate frogs! and all the touching! it’s very confusing, because you told me that i was just a friend, and i wanted to respect that and then the sitting with us at meals! you never used to sit with us before! and so then i think that maybe - but you only sit next to g/f/n, and then i think that you like her, but you only started sitting with us after i told you how i felt!”

charlie looked away from y/n, and his hand came up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. “well . . .” he started. he looked back up at her, and she raised an eyebrow expectantly. he sighed.

“after you told me you liked me, i got to thinking and . . . i realized that i . . . liked you too. and i know how it sounds!” charlie added hurriedly, seeing the doubt in y/n’s eyes. “and i thought that i only started to like you like that because you’d told me that you liked me like that, and i tried to forget about it and stick to being just friends with you, but then we were sitting in potions one day and you were doodling on your arm with a pen and you looked so concentrated and - and i don’t know, but i realized that it wasn’t just a suggestion thing, but that i - that i - that i really like you.”

y/n was a bit startled by charlie’s outburst, seeing as he didn’t talk much about his feelings, nor did he stutter; he just wasn’t the type.

charlie fiddled with the sleeves of his robes after finishing his rant - a clear sign that he was nervous, and his distress only increased as you remained silent. “well?”

"did you think that our hogsmeade trip was going to be like a date?”

charlie looked taken aback. “i mean . . . i suppose so?”

“that’s a prick move you know. telling me we’re just friends and then deciding you like me and asking me out on a date.”

“i’m beginning to realize that.”

you nodded, satisfied with his answer. “good.”

“do you . . . do you still like me, too?”

y/n rolled her eyes, but said, “of course i still like you, you imbecile.”

“and . . . and do you still want to go to hogsmeade with me?” he looked so hopeful and anxious all at once that y/n just had to let her face soften.

“of course.” charlie perked up immediately.

“but,” she continued, “i want you to know that nothing may come out if it at first. you told me you only saw me as a friend, and then suddenly you’re telling me you like me; i’m going to need some time to process.”

he gave her a lopsided grin. “i’m okay with that.”

she smiled at him softly. “good. now, let’s get you to the hospital wing, yeah?”

charlie nodded, still smiling at her, and y/n stepped forward, looped her arm through his, and started on the way to the hospital wing, pulling him along with her.

#charlie weasley x reader #oneshot #charlie weasley #charlie weasley imagine #imagine #fandom imagines #fandom imagine #imagines #oneshots #harry potter #hp #harry potter x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #reader insert fanfiction #friendzoned #mixed signals

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

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Taste of Home (Indruck)

Prompt for the 13th was: strange harvest

Most days, Duck isn’t too worried about the dirt on his hands or the bits of leaves that stick to his clothes. Most days, he’s not about to meet with a reclusive, wealthy donor to the Kepler Botanical Gardens who has specifically requested Duck be present.

When he enters the meeting room, Thacker is waiting for him along with a tall, pale-haired man sporting red glasses.

“Ah, here’s Duck now.” Thacker smiles.

“Sorry, uh, thought we weren’t meeting until-”

“-One. You’re correct, I have a habit of getting a bit, ah, ahead of things t times.” The man offers a wide smile that’s polite but also gives Duck the heebie-jeebies.

“Duck, this here is Mr. Cold. He’s one of the garden’s longest standin supporters. He’s got a project for us, and asked that you be the one in charge of it.”

“I was quite impressed with your work on the native plant section, and I’m told you headed the transplant and maintenance of the tree specimens in the New Zealand section, which is no mean feat.”

“Thanks, I’m real proud of both. What do you have in mind? Is it an exhibit?”

“A private collection. Come, let me show you.” Mr. Cold unrolls a set of plans as Duck shoots a glance at Thacker.

“Didn’t know we did that sort thing.”

“We do for Mr.Cold. Whelp, I gotta go lead a tour. Mr. Cold, I leave you in Duck’s capable hands.”

He joins the taller man in front of the plans; they’re for a garden within a greenhouse, the structure as angular and distinct as the man requesting it. He knows the greenhouse hs Cold’s name above it, is usually used as a teaching space

“I imagine you think me rather selfish for requesting to use your space in such a way.” Mr. Cold doesn’t look up from where he’s making final notes on the paper, as if the answer is a foregone conclusion.

“Think it’s kinda strange, but I ain’t about to rule on it bein selfish until you tell me what I’m actually doin.”

“I have several species of trees, flowers, and shrubs that I need grown. They are, ah, rather difficult to cultivate anywhere other than their native home, and I am not a skilled gardener at the best of times. Hence my seeking out someone who, I presume, has not killed multiple succulents in the last two months.” The man looks a little ashamed, then clears his throat, “the plants I am asking you to grow are the only specimens of their kind on earth.”

“How’d you get them, then?” Duck tries to keep the suspicion out of his voice, but this feels more and more like some rich guy made an impulse purchase of something that should be in a seed bank or species ark somewhere.

“I brought small specimens over from my home, which is where they grow. But I couldn’t keep them alive, and they were already rare. Last I heard they were all wiped out by an, ah, an illness. I stored seeds from my specimens in hopes of one day regrowing them.”

Duck looks at the diagram closely; the plant’s are actually sketched in, not just noted by name and the number of eraser marks suggest Mr. Cold spent a long time planning out exactly where each one went.

“You’re askin us to do all this because you’re homesick?”

“Yes. I have been away from home for a long, long time. The Kepler gardens have been a refuge for me. Lately I’ve been drawn to the woodland and prairie type sections.”

“I helped with a lot of those.”

Mr. Cold turns to him with a smile, “I know. That is another reason I requested you. But, before we go any further, I must make something clear; these specimens they mean...they are so, so precious to me. And secrecy is a must, for reasons I can only half explain. They would be solely under your care and protection. If that is not a responsibility you wish to take, I understand entirely.”

Behind the red glasses, Duck can just see a glint of hope.

“Think I’m up to the challenge.”

“Wonderful” Mr. Cold claps his hands together, “in that case, there is not a moment to lose. Here, this is everything you need.” He produces a briefcase, inside which sits ten packets of seeds and three pits, bout the size of an avocado pit.”

“All the information I have on ideal growing conditions is in the attached notebook, and the seeds are labeled. If you have any questions, ny at all, my phone number is in there s well.”

He pauses, smiles, and murmurs to himself, “it's been awhile since I gave anyone my phone number.”

Duck opts to ignore the stealthy glance at his arms and carefully takes the case, “Thanks, this’ll all be real helpful.

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

He doesn’t see his new patron (as Juno calls Mr. Cold) for a week. When he does, he’s on his belly, checking for any sign of sprouts in the greenhouse.

“How goes the growing?” Mr. Cold asks from the direction of Duck’s feet.

The gardener rolls over and sits up, “Not much to report, just trying to keep an eye on ‘em so I don’t miss anythin important.”

Mr. Cold offers his hand, helping Duck up, “I appreciate the care you’re taking, Duck. I hope it isn’t cutting into your other work too badly.”

“Had to move somethings around, but that's just the nature of this kind of work.”

Mr. Cold chuckles, “Pun intended?”

“Uh, I guess.”

“Oh. Your, h, your lunch time is coming up right? I was wondering if you would let me take you to lunch as an, ah, extra thank you?” He’s spinning a small ring on his finger, the shyness almost charming, and Duck felt neutral at best about the sandwich he brought today.

“Sure, thanks.”

Mr. Cold grins, “Oh good. Where would you like to go? I hear the crystal palace has a lovely lunch.”

“The fancy Japanese place? Pretty sure they got a dress code.”

“Brush off the dirt and you look completely respectable.”

Duck raises an eyebrow, “I was talkin about you.”

They both stare down at the classy but still very clear pajama pants Mr. Cold is wearing.

“Fair point. How do you feel about Indian food?”

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

Duck’s stepped into some sort of painting. And here he thought he was just wandering into the birch grove.

Indrid (“”I really prefer that name”) is laying on his back on a bench. Sun streams between the branches, falling across his face, making it all angle and shadow in ways Duck wants to sit and study. His silver hair is ruffling in the breeze, and his glasses are pushed up his forehead. Eyes shut and hands folded on his stomach, he reminds Duck of the paintings in fairytales of someone waiting for true loves kiss.

He’s worried he might be the one to give it.

They’re having lunch once a week at least now, the awkwardness of the first time melting away as Duck got going on a tangent about dandelions only to find Indrid, elbows on the table and chin in his hands, listening to him so intently he blushed on reflex. Then he was giggling as Indrid pulled a custom-made curly straw out of a small tin in order to drink his Mango lassi. And then Indrid had laughed at his laugh and it all fell into place, the conversation so easy it’s as if they’d know each other for years.

Then there were the frequent visits by Indrid to the greenhouse to check on the progress. Which, if Duck does say so himself, if pretty fucking good. The plants are thriving, reaching for the light, and the trees are already flowering in deep blue stars, the speed with which they reached adulthood fascinating to him. Sometimes Indrid just comes to see the gardens, but always seeks Duck out to say hello and smile that increasingly charming smile at him.

But the biggest change has come with Indrid asking if Duck would be interested in designing a small garden for him

“Something very simple and manageable. Hardy too.”

“Any plant preferences?”

“No, I trust your judgement entirely, though you may have to help me with their maintenance the first few weeks, if that is alright.”

Duck would have done it even if Indrid wasn't paying him. He liked sitting in the living room, surrounded by strange art and crumpled papers, showing Indrid how to tend houseplants. And when they sit on the back porch, each dirt-smudged and grass stained, Indrid sipping soda while Duck nursed a single beer, the other man kept beaming at the new, small patch of garden, Duck’s heart wanted to burst from his chest and flutter around.

Last night, he stayed late for dinner, and as he was checking over the houseplants…

“I’m fond of this one. It’s sturdy and makes me smile, much like you.” Indrid murmurs as he steps beside him.

Duck slides a smile his way “Dunno, partial to this snake plant we chose; unique and kinda tall, just like you.”

It’s the worlds weakest flirtation, but as Indrid steps away his fingers tease Duck’s lower back, “I wonder if they can cross-pollinate.”

All of this is why Duck decides to leave Indrid be. Because playing prince charming to one of the gardens donors could backfire and shatter his whole career if he reads things wrong.

The path takes him past Indrid, and he steps lightly. But just as he passes Indrid's head, cool fingers find his own.

“How is my favorite flora expert today?” Indrid purrs, eyes still shut.

“Good. Uh. Yeah, good. How’d you know-”

“It was you? I have my ways.” Indrid grins, squeezing his hand once before letting go, “are we still on for lunch tomorrow? I can bring you that soup you like.”

“That’d be great.” Duck hesitates, reaches down and ruffles Indrid’s hair. The other man sighs, rubs his face against Ducks palm.

“I can't wait.”

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

It takes him until ten pm to remember he left his phone in the greenhouse. Which would not be a problem, except he’s supposed to take a call early tomorrow from Jane, the first time in months they’ve been able to talk.

Plus, he’s been having an excellent text conversation with Indrid until his last rounds, sending him pictures of the plants in the greenhouse, which all look ready to bloom in the next day, and the strange fruit on the trees; speckled gold and white, and smelling faintly of marshmallow. Indrid’s reply texts were filled with excitement (and a great deal of praise, which Duck is thoroughly enjoying). He wants to keep that going as soon as he can.

He finds his phone on the workbench, looks up just in time to see glowing red eyes reflected in the glass.

Something’s in the greenhouse with him. Which should be impossible, because only two people have the keys.

Turning, he scans the plants and spots a large, dark shape holding very still behind the trees. Which would work better if said trees were not so thin.

“I am aware this is not a good hiding place.”

Duck gasps, not expecting it to talk, then steps back when the creature emerges. It towers over him, antennae twitching and wings rustling slightly. His mind puts all the pieces together, and he understands only half of them.

“Why the fuck is the mothman breakin into my greenhouse.”

The antenna flatten slightly, “I am not breaking in. Do you see any broken glass?”

“No, but I got one key, and the only other person with one ain’t here. And put those down, they ain’t yours.” Duck reaches for the two fruits, each clasped between a pair of clawed hands, only for Mothman to raise his arms.

“They are, in fact, mine. If you would stop trying to knock me over I can explain.”

“Uh uh, first you gotta put down Indrid’s things, then you can explain.”

The creature chirrs, annoyed, and points at its neck, “His things? Such as this key perhaps?”

Duck stops moving, staring at the key before rising his gaze to the mothmans face and meeting his eyes for the first time.

“What the fuck? Indrid, what the fuck?”

A sheepish chirp, “There was not a good way to tell you I am a famous cryptid. At least, I did not feel there was one. I was worried you would be afraid of me if you knew.”

“Feelin a little too confused to be afraid. Did, did I just grow a mothman garden instead of a butterfly garden?”

The laugh is unmistakably Indrid, “In a way. I was telling the truth when I said these were from my home, but my need for them went beyond homesickness. Every twenty five years, my kind are compelled to eat these. It is not fatal if we don’t, but we suffer a very unpleasant illness for several weeks if we do not. I resigned myself to that sickness until I began visiting these gardens, and saw there were people who might be able to help me. My own powers, including foresight, cannot replace a green thumb. Your green thumb went beyond anything I could ever have hoped for. This” he gestures to the trees with their glittering fruit, the flowers blooming in a rainbow of glowing star-shapes, “Duck I, I haven't seen a sight like this in close to a hundred years.”

Duck holds his breath as Indrid steps towards him, bending to rest his downy forehead against Ducks.

“Thank you, Duck Newton. Thank you for giving me a taste of home.”

The human reaches up to touch a black, fuzzy cheek, “Does this mean you gotta leave or somethin, now that I know your secret identity?”

“Not unless you are planning to tell everyone you’ve been acting as the Mothman’s personal gardener.”

“Nah, rather tell ‘em about the cute fella I’m takin to dinner tomorrow.”

Indrid blinks, “You...you do not find this alarming?”

“I mean, you’re big and a little terrifyin, but you’re still Indrid. And it means a lot that you actually stayed and told me who you were, instead of just flyin off.”

There’s a deep purr as Indrid says, “In that case, may I invite you to dinner at my house, Duck Newton? I can even share some of this strange harvest with you.”

Duck grins, drawing his fingers long Indrids arm, “That your way of tellin me they’re an aphrodisiac?”

Indrid nuzzles his cheek and pulls him close, “I guess we’ll find out.”

#indruck #promptober #indrid cold/duck newton #awkward flirting

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dukeofonions · 4 years

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Puppet vs Video Games (The Gimmicks of Sanders Sides)

If you’ve followed me for awhile (meaning the short amount of time I’ve been running this blog) then you’ll probably be aware of what my opinions are of the “gimmicks” that have been making themselves prevalent in recent Sanders Sides episodes. Now just to make things clear, almost every episode of Sanders Sides uses some kind of gimmick.

Well, besides the first one, which consists entirely of talking with no added effects.

And I, being the faceless entity that sits behind a computer screen judging an online web series, am going to rant about that because this is my blog and I do what I want. So let’s begin…

The Prologue

As season one progresses we see things like location changes, a song, Thomas’ friends making several appearances, simple editing tricks (like putting text or pictures on a screen) minor costume changes (Logan and Patton dressing as Sherlock and Watson) split screen effects, and even an episode featuring an animated segment.

At the end of Season One we were introduced to the concept of “Rooms” which added a whole new layer to the story and got people excited to see what the other rooms would entail. Still, up to this point, the gimmicks remained mostly in the background as small ways to sprinkle in some extra storytelling while the dialogue continued to be the main thing carrying the series.

Then Season Two began with Fitting In, which featured a few more props that served to signify each of the Hogwarts houses. This made sense seeing as that was the focus of the video, and for fans of Harry Potter, it would be fun to see the characters wearing things from the different houses.

After Fitting In, we got Moving On which featured the introduction of Patton’s room. Like with Virgil’s, a lot went into designing his room. There is a lot to look at, who knows how long it took to find all the stuff they showcased in the background? On top of that they also had the filter they used to give the room a dreamlike quality, and my favorite detail, the pictures that continue to change throughout the episode depending on what the characters are talking about.

It remains one of my favorite set pieces from the series just from the amount of detail they put into it, and it felt like a step up from Virgil’s room (which I also love) and it makes me excited for the rest of the rooms that have yet to be revealed.

However! I am not here to discuss the rooms. Even though I already did…

After Moving On, however, is when things start to change with the series.

During the 12 Days of Christmas, the Sides are each given their own custom Christmas sweaters, but that’s only part of the gimmick. The centerpiece for this episode is, of course, the song sung by all four Sides. This moment is pretty significant as it marks the first time all four of them appeared on screen together at the same time.

This was just the tip of the iceberg for what was to come…

Immediately following 12 Days we get Can Lying Be Good? Which featured a new location where the video spent the majority in, using quick cuts with the cameras to give off the illusion of Roman pretending to be Joan (including clever uses of audio) and of course, Deceit himself. The makeup and costume was unlike anything we’d seen in the series yet. Throw in some more split screen to show two Sides on screen together, as well as some clever costume choices for character Thomas, makes this episode (in my opinion) the best at utilizing its effects and filming techniques to tell its story.

And then, things start to shift again….

The next episode we get is Why Do We Get Out Of Bed In The Morning? Which took some time to produce, coming out in April after CLBG? Was released in February. Still, good time considering what was to come.

This episode had some mixed reviews once it finally came out, but I plan on tackling that later. The reason this episode (which was really just a longer, drawn out version of Losing My Motivation but starring Logan and Roman) was the use of animations.

For Logan, his arguments were displayed via “Stop Motion” writings of graphs and charts which he used to explain his points. And from a short behind the scenes video, each of these were drawn by hand and took hours to make. From what I understand, all of Roman’s bits were animated on a computer, though I don’t have much info on how they were made.

Within the episode, these different types of animations were used to help Roman and Logan illustrate their points. And while on their own they’re quite adorable, they aren’t necessary for the telling of this story. One thing this episode was criticised for was how the writing felt off. Everything seemed rushed and none of the characters felt in character, and while I don’t recall anyone outright saying it, it’s likely that perhaps the team felt pressured to get this video out on time, and thus might have skipped out on other elements in order to make up for the time spent working on the animations.

Whether that was writing the script, filming, or editing, we don’t know. All I know is that the general consensus for this episode was that it was just okay. As a Logan and Roman fan though, it was kinda disappointing for their first episode with them taking the spotlight together to just be viewed as “okay” and isn’t a favorite of mine.

Things picked up a little after Crofters: The Musical was released only a few days after WDWGOOBITM (that title is a monster to type no matter how ya do it) and it featured a song as its gimmick. The mood was a bit lighter, we got to see Logan having fun, and hey we even got our first main Roman angst foreshadowing! Good thing that wouldn’t be dragged out for several episodes, right?

All in all, things were definitely looking up for Sanders Sides. From the looks of it, we were going to start getting more frequent updates!

Then the Drought happened and we had to wait almost six months for a new episode.

At least that would be the longest we ever had to wait for something.

Before I get into the beef of this post I wanna bring up three more episodes, Embarrassing Phases, Selfishness vs Selflessness, and Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts.

Like the other episodes throughout Season Two, each of these episodes have different gimmicks. In Embarrassing Phases, it’s the Halloween costumes. In SVS, it’s a location change plus costume change, and in DWIT we get the introduction of Remus along with a musical number and a few props.

I’d say each of these episodes does a good job at incorporating their gimmicks into the story. Embarrassing Phases involves them talking about Halloween and using costumes as metaphors or something like that (This may be one of the few times I say something positive about this episode don’t get used to it)

With SVS, thanks to some clever acting, we can see Janus get the idea of using the courtroom scenario to try and get his point across. He first does this by suggesting that Thomas may not be as innocent as he seems, and after Patton defends him, that’s when Janus switches to the courtroom in order to put Patton to the test and literally defend Thomas as a lawyer.

Then in DWIT, given that Remus is a very outgoing character, it makes sense that he’d use a song to explain who he is and make a dramatic entrance. Plus, the series has used songs before so it’s not surprising to see this here. And seeing as Remus is creativity, it’s only fitting that he’s able to conjure random things throughout the episode. Okay, that was a long prologue, onto the actual reason most of you probably clicked on this post. Part One: The Puppets

Learning New Things About Ourselves also does a good job of handling its gimmick and incorporating it into the story. Like the three I just mentioned, there’s a set up and a pay off. We get an idea of what’s to come with this moment:

“I don’t feel content,”

“With my content.”

Which is obviously a reference to some random children’s educational program (most likely Sesame Street) by showcasing how two words that are spelled the same can have different meanings. Great now I sound like some educational children’s program.

Then later on, we get the actual set up that comes from Thomas becoming frustrated that he can’t figure out what the problem is that’s causing this whole dilemma. He says, “We’ve got an issue. Something that I’m not aware of yet, something that may be unlocked with the right question. This is like... fundamental learning!”

After he says that, he gets an idea and asks the others how he used to learn things and each one responds accordingly:

Logan: Textbooks!

Roman and Virgil: Mistakes.

Patton: Puppets!

And of course, initially, Thomas questions this and no one really understands what Patton means by this. But he explains and makes a case for it, “Thomas used to learn all kinds of new and helpful things from puppets when he was younger! Like how to count and his ABCs. Maybe it’ll be easier to work through issues when puppets are involved.”

We see Thomas consider the idea, and then Logan sets up a joke with him saying Thomas has outgrown that kind of stuff only to have him express his love for the idea.

After that, the Sides (excluding Logan) change into their respective puppets and continue on the episode.

One important thing to note (which I will bring up later) is that this scene takes place around the 15 minute mark. At least by that point, everyone except Logan has changed into a puppet. With the video being 38 minutes long, this is about halfway through the episode, and by the 31 minute mark the Sides begin turning back to normal.

Which means the puppets roughly take up only about 15 minutes of the video, slightly longer if you count Logan’s puppet, but you get the idea.

Also I’m bad at math so if I got this wrong sue me. There’s a reason I’m sitting here writing this instead of doing something with my life.

From then on, the conversation continues with everyone still trying to figure out what the question they need to be asking is. Of course, plenty of references to other educational kid shows are thrown around, but that now makes sense seeing as they’re fully embracing the puppet idea. Patton furthers the conversation along by finally getting Thomas to start asking “Why” and uses another reference to do so, which starts the next part of the conversation and brings us the next major conflict in this episode, Logan.

He gives his opinion, stating that no one takes Thomas seriously and that he should switch careers in order to obtain that status instead of devoting his time to making silly videos.

This of course, causes dissension within the group, and leads to Roman once again insulting Logan before realizing that he’s been going too far. After being prompted to apologize, Roman attempts to express his feelings to Logan and say sorry, but it doesn’t exactly help him feel any better which is when Patton suggests he try a different way.

And, Roman being Roman, decides the best way to do this is through song. A song that’s reminiscent of those one might hear on Sesame Street (there’s probably others but I’m rolling with this one) so it fits with the puppet thing. Again, it’s justified.

The episode ends with Logan finally understanding where the others are coming from and Thomas finding the right question to ask, which he is able to answer and it solves the dilemma.

Logan turns into a puppet, there’s another Sesame Street reference, and Roman is finally gonna start addressing his issues!

Good thing that won’t be brushed under a rug by the other characters for three more episodes right?

All in all, in case you couldn’t tell, I adore this episode and it still remains one of my favorites to this day. It doesn’t beat you over the head with the references, which are used cleverly and in a fun way that also keeps the story moving along. The designs for the puppets are cute and match each of the characters, and the puppetry is amazing!

Plus the song is an absolute bop and it still makes me emotional sometimes.

Which begs the question, was the sixth month wait worth it? Well, after hearing all that went into making this episode and seeing the final result, I’d say it was worth it.

It’s also nice that we got a behind the scenes video where we got to see the full story on how this episode was made and all the difficulties Thomas, Joan, and Talyn faced when trying to make it a reality. Did they need to use puppets? No, but what matters is that they were able to take the idea and incorporate it into a story in a way that was fun and felt justified for existing.

Not saying this episode is perfect, there are a few problems here and there, but overall this remains one of my top Sanders Sides episodes and one I’ve watched repeatedly since it came out.

Now that all that positive stuff is out of the way, let’s get to the fun part….

Part Two: The Video Games

I’m gonna be blunt, Putting Others First does not do as good of a job with incorporating video games into its story like LNTAO does.

However, I can’t exactly talk about this episode without talking about the extremely long wait we had in between episodes. The last official episode (that follows the main storyline, so not Asides) came out on June 25, 2019. POF came out May 1st, 2020.

Almost 10 months, the longest we’ve ever had to wait for an episode. And if you wanna go further, remember that POF was meant to be the follow up to SVS, a part two if you will, SVS came out March 31st 2019, so by the time POF came out, it had already been a year since this set up the conflict for wedding vs callback.

By that point, some people were no longer interested or as excited about the new episode, but that changed briefly when a trailer for the episode dropped after a new Bloopers video was released a few months before POF was finally released.

Keep in mind that up until this point, we weren’t entirely sure what the hold up was for this episode. We’d only gotten the vague answer of “There’s a special sequence for this episode and we’re working with another artist in order to make it, which is why it’s taking so long.”

Okay, fair enough, and the trailer revealed what exactly that sequence was, animation!

Now I’ve already explained in another post why I have problems with how vague Thomas and co. are when it comes to giving information about upcoming videos, so I won’t get into that here.

What I am going to bring up since it relates to some of my points is this, remember when they said it was a “special sequence” they were working on? Well, after the video is released we find that it isn’t one, but 10.

I’m not counting each time a sequence was used (For example, the opening segment which is later followed by Roman imagining a different outcome in the same style or every single one of Logan’s low-down’s, and the two trolley problems are counted as one sequence for this post specifically) because I really don’t wanna go through and count every single time Logan popped up on screen, but tell me, why in the heckity heck did they feel it was necessary to include 10 of these animated segments?

And okay, there’s actually 12 (maybe 13? The Pokemon reference uses two different styles) but why are there so many? How are they necessary and what is their reason for being in this episode?

Remember earlier when I mentioned that the puppet stuff didn’t start until the 15 minute mark? Well, POF literally begins with a video game sequence, and then the game references just keep coming. The intro gets a retro remix along with the rest of the music, and once Thomas enters the picture his curse words are covered by a gold coin and the “mario coin” sound effect.

And then, not even three minutes in, we get yet another video game sequence recapping the last episode, after we already had a recap of the last episode less than a minute ago!

To be fair though Rhythm Redux is a bop and I’m not sure why they felt the need to include a “flashback” after the intro when they were going to include this song anyway since it does a better job at explaining things than the random shots and dialogue from SVS.

With LNTAO, none of the “puppet bits” began until after the Sides changed into puppets, besides that one bit of foreshadowing with the “Content with my content” line. There was no change to the intro’s music, nothing besides that one bit to foreshadow the puppets coming into play.

Another thing LNTAO does that POF doesn’t is establish a set up, and pay off for the video games. Right off the bat, we get the video games, then later we get Patton’s line about how “Life isn’t like one of your video games” just a few minutes before the next video game sequence takes place, which just felt out of place to me the first time I watched it and I felt like that line was put in there just to remind the audience “Oh yeah, this is a video game themed episode!”

Which, okay, there actually was some bit of set up before this back in SVS. Thomas mentions that he planned to spend his time at the wedding playing “Word Crush” on his phone, then as POF begins, that’s exactly what he’s doing.

And there are certain instances where the sequences work.

The beginning sequence ties back into Thomas’ comment from SVS and, in a way, sets up the video game thing (even if it does make me somewhat cringe but that’s mostly Lee and Mary Lee’s characters) and I wouldn’t have as much of a problem with how “Rhythm Redux” was incorporated if they hadn’t included the flash back after the intro. Again, why did they need two different recaps? They only needed one and it did a good job of explaining everything on its own.

I will also say the Trolley Segments work due to the discussions being held, they’re talking about “Morality” so why wouldn’t you bring up one of the oldest moral dilemmas out there? It also ties in with my favorite part of the video, the “Final Boss” fight with Lilypadton vs Janus. I was not expecting it, and adding Janus’ reveal on top of that just made everything even better. It was dramatic, and I loved how the health bars that were used for Patton and Janus changed to represent Thomas’ deteriorating mental health.

All in all, there was potential here with the video game theme, and there were scenes where it was used well. But all the others that I didn’t mention? They just felt forced and out of place to me and honestly, took me out of the moment.

Another episode I want to compare POF to is Logic vs Passion (I am not typing either the title or the acronym out again) where they both incorporate their gimmicks in a similar way.

Logan and Roman both use their respective animations to illustrate their points of view, and throughout POF all the characters use different video games to illustrate their own points.

The issues I have with these episodes is that these conversations could have been had without the use of any of these things. The Sides have had discussions and used examples to elaborate their points in the past without the use of visuals.

Now, can visuals help with storytelling? Yes, and I mentioned several instances where POF does this. But honestly, the whole video game theme seemed out of place for this particular video. Compare it to SVS which only had a location change, the episode focused almost entirely on its dialogue and still manages to be dramatic and engaging. You can easily follow along with the discussion without the need for fancy visuals.

With POF, it seems like they just try to rush from one video game reference to the next, leaving little room to breathe in between before another video game is thrown into your face. What could have been a simple discussion like in SVS (which still managed to balance humor with its more serious themes) we got a rather bloated middle section which, honestly, I don’t remember much about.

I’ve watched the video several times and without fail, I always find myself spacing out throughout a good chunk of the middle until the whole Lilypadton scene takes place. That’s when I became interested, especially when Janus entered the picture to bring in his points and act as a bit of an “anti-hero” in the whole thing.

I simply believe this video could have been a lot simpler, and probably more cohesive if they’d left a lot of the video game stuff out. The last thing I want to be when consuming any type of media is bored, and honestly if it wasn’t for me making all these analysis posts on the episode, I probably wouldn’t have watched it again save for my favorite parts.

Not only that, but we waited 10 months for this episode because of the video game sequences, and again you have to ask yourself, was the wait worth it?

I have to say, unlike with LNTAO, it wasn’t worth it to me. They could take the video game sequences out altogether (even my favorite ones) and I wouldn’t really care. This episode just doesn’t need them, they don’t justify their use in this episode. Whereas in LNTAO, I love the use of puppets and if they were to be taken out, I would miss them.

Now is this to say I hate the episode? No, there’s actually a lot I like about it. Patton’s development, Janus, and the ending with Roman are all amazing on their own. But really, who’s to say Janus couldn’t have confronted Patton in person instead of a video game world?

Logan didn’t need to appear via little “Pop ups” and could have been called upon by Patton for help only to be brushed aside when what he says doesn’t help his case at all. Then when things start getting out of hand, “Logan” comes back to try to fix things but it doesn’t work, which is when he reveals himself only this time everyone, including the audience, fell for it because Janus has stepped up his game when it comes to disguising himself.

Of course, the same could be said about LNTAO, they didn’t need to be puppets, right? Well, considering that the message of the episode was that you can use unconventional methods to express different ideas using different mediums, and Logan spent the whole time seeing the puppets at nothing but silly and childish only to come to this realization himself, it makes sense why puppets were used.

However, you can actually apply that same message to POF, where they used an unconventional method to get their points across.

The only problem, like with Logic vs Passion, was that the gimmicks alone couldn’t carry the episode.

Logic vs Passion wasn’t as good as other episodes (and I may do a full review of this in the future) and in POF, it just felt like there was too much being crammed into this one episode. We went from discussing different types of morality and why people do good things to Janus suddenly beginning his “acceptance arc” with Roman having a breakdown at the end. Honestly, the point where Janus enters the conversation feels like a completely separate episode from what we’ve had thus far. Not only that, I have my own issues with how Janus’ character seemed to suddenly do a 180 (which I already talked about in another post) so while I love the ending scenes on their own, I admit that maybe they should have been handled differently.

Of course, at the end of the day, all of this is just a matter of opinion. Lots of people loved the video game segments, and others didn’t like the puppets. Some people love all the gimmicks used in the videos, others wish for things to go back to the simpler formats of the older episodes and honestly, I agree.

It seems like with every new episode the team is trying to outdo themselves and take things up another level each time, which is something I can admire, but it is something that can be overdone. Just look at Sanders Asides, it was supposed to be this simple little thing, but it might as well just be another episode. There’s nothing to distinguish it from any of the other main episodes, and if the rest of Asides is going to be the same way, then what’s the point of making it a separate series at all?

Now, Thomas and Joan have said that after this episode, they’re going to start using more practical effects and make things simpler, which I take as a sign of them learning to step back from all the gimmicks they use and just let the characters shine on their own for a while. Which, if that is the case, good on them.

We don’t come to this series for the effects and flashy scenes, we come for the characters. They’re what we love and want to see more of. If you want more proof, just look at what people mostly took from POF, they took the character moments. It wasn’t the video game references that resonated the most with people, heck, people outright seemed to ignore the fact that Leslie Odom Jr. made a cameo.

What do you think that says?

Not saying people didn’t love the video game references, because a lot of people did, but it wasn’t the main thing people responded to.

It’s okay to explore different mediums for storytelling. But sometimes, as a creator, you have to stop and ask yourself, “Is this really necessary for the story?” And believe me the hardest thing to do is cut out something that I spent hours working on because, when I viewed the story as a whole, that particular thing just wasn’t necessary for the story. Maybe I enjoyed it, and perhaps others would too, but at the end of the day, I’d be glad that I made the decision for the betterment of the story.

Okay, now this got way longer than I meant for it to be (how ironic) but you’ve all been waiting for this post for awhile and I didn’t want to postpone it further.

I do hope you enjoyed reading this jumbled mess and, as always, feel free to let me know what your opinions were! Regardless of whether you agree or disagree, and I’ll see y’all next time!

#sanders sides #dukeofonions #episode criticism #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders

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callunavulgari · 3 years

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fic tag meme

I guess I was kind of inadvertently tagged by @wildehacked because they said to do it if you wanted to, and well, I was bored and needed something to do while watching Watcher Weekly+ so!

Name: Heather! Otherwise known as callunavulgari on all platforms. Except fanfiction.net. I have not gone back there to even consider changing it.

Fandoms: I am currently only actively writing fic for Buzzfeed Unsolved and The Adventure Zone (because I have no self control and finished the finale today). That said, I’m pretty actively involved in The Untamed, Buzzfeed Unsolved, The Magnus Archives, Hades, and Persona 5. But I also delve back into old fandoms constantly, so it’s really hard to say. Tropes: Enemies to lovers is my absolute favorite trope in the entire world. In fact, I think the only thing I like MORE than your garden variety enemies to lovers is FRIENDS to enemies to lovers. Because like, you’ve got the UST but you’ve also got ANGST and YEARNING. I’m just weak to it.

I also really like fusion AUs, soulmate AUs, and canon-adjacent AUs where everything is the same except one or both parties is some kind of monster. Creature? I love myself a creature feature. Bonus points if it’s got political intrigue and killer world building. I’m sure there are others, but eh.

Fic I spent most time on: Probably either Rubatosis or when the wild grasses weave.

Rubatosis was a Percy Jackson fic where Percy and Annabeth fall in love with Nico, aka the personification of death. Also, Annabeth is a serial killer. It is single-handedly my favorite thing I’ve ever written and I wrote it in a handful of months for the 2014 PJO Big Bang.

where the wild grasses weave, on the other hand, was a Spirited Away/Kingdom Hearts fic that I wrote for the Kingdom Hearts Big Bang like half a decade ago. It was an idea that I’d been toying with for awhile and the Big Bang gave me an excuse to finally do it. It explores the darker themes of Spirited Away and honestly, I’ve been meaning to go back and tinker with it for awhile because there are definitely parts that could be shaped up better.

Fic I spent least time on: Probably all the really short prompt fics that I’ve posted between now and 2010.

Longest fic: Also when the wild grasses weave, which is almost 43k. And if you know me, that’s a full 30k longer than the usual things I go for.

Shortest fic: nowhere to run is an Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier fanfiction that I wrote about a year after First Class came out in 2012. It is FORTY words and was written for a tumblr three-sentence meme. It was definitely only three sentences, but somehow managed to get 25 kudos and 5 comments anyway.

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks: Top kudos/bookmarks/hits: i don't believe in fairy tales (but i believe in you and me), which was written on September 5th 2014 and is just over 3k of Derek accidentally getting a glimpse of Stiles’ penis. On his phone. It is the dick pic fic and it has 5239 kudos, 712 bookmarks, and 81,838 hits. I feel like the fact that this is my most popular fic should be upsetting since it took me like an hour to write. Top comments: Que Sera, Sera, which was written on June 14th 2014 and is almost 4k. It’s the second part of my Teen Wolf/Addams Family fusion and has 146 comments (most of which are people and not me, because I don’t typically respond to comments, which is a horrible failing on my part). Favorite fic you’ve written: I actually have an Author's Favorites list on ao3, which needs pared down horribly because it’s got a bunch of really old fic that has not aged particularly well. Rubatosis is probably my favorite? Again, it’s definitely the one I’m proudest of. wake up in a city that never sleeps was another PJO ot3 fic that I wrote where Percy is Nico’s TA and is also pretty up there. I do genuinely love the Teen Wolf/Addams fusion. take me to church is one of my favorite Teen Wolf fics, mostly because it’s the soft epilogue that I wanted out of the show.

and i'm always tired, but never of you is a Bright Sessions ot3 fic where Sam and Mark cross paths with Damien years later and I’m really attached to that one. I don’t know. I go back and read these things sometimes and I remember that my writing isn’t like pulling nails all the time. That sometimes it’s really very good.

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: A couple of the older Big Bang fics I would love to go back and rewrite just because when rereading I can tell where I was running out of time or where something should have been cut but wasn’t so I could pad the wordcount. I do eventually want to write at least one more part of the Teen Wolf/Addams series. And I kind of want to write a coda for that Bright Sessions ot3 that I mentioned.

Share a bit of a WIP:

Part of the Buzzfeed Unsolved tattoo AU that I’ve been working on since uh, Christmas. Whoops.

He’s getting ready to text the guy back to let him know that he’ll have to book another appointment when the bell sounds from the front of the door and someone spills through the doorway.

And look, Ryan had gone into this appointment with expectations. Four weeks ago, when the guy had first emailed inquiring about booking an appointment, Ryan had asked him what exactly he was looking for. He’d asked the usual questions, all pretty standard. Style, colors, if he had a preference when it came to the artist, if he had a hard limit on price.

An hour later, Ryan found himself typing the sentence, ‘so when you say puppet…’

Ryan doesn’t really know what he’d expected. He’d done a couple marionettes. Faceless pinnochios. Skeletons dangling from razor wire. A character from Coraline. It was very ain’t no strings on me, complete with shadowy hands puppeting the faceless silhouettes. Creepy, but you know. Kind of cool.

Precisely ten minutes after he hit send, the guy had ruined all of his expectations by typing back, ‘No, man. Like a muppet.’

He’d even included an attachment. So naturally, Ryan clicked on it.

The creature that looked back at him was monstrous, like a cross between Elmo and the Cookie Monster, its empty eyes dead and staring. It was wearing an outfit that made Ryan think of Indiana Jones, complete with a tiny hat and a miniature fanny pack. On anything else, the little outfit might be cute.

As Ryan was pondering how to politely pass the job off to Mari, another email came through. This one, thankfully, did not include another attachment. The body of the email was blank. The subject line read simply: ‘He’s called The Professor.’

#heather says what #heather writes #have a thing because i'm bored #this backfired because now i want to write but don't have the time

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

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survey by xxbieberburnham

A - Accidents Have you ever been in a car accident? No, thankfully.

Do you have a lot of scars? Yeah, numerous scars.

Have you been in a fist fight with someone? Nope.

Have you ever seriously hurt someone by accident? No.

Have you ever had stitches? Yes, several times.

B - Beauty Would consider yourself beautiful? Not even a little.

Are you self consicous of how you look? Extremely. I’ve gotten even worse these past few years.

Do you wear a lot of make up? I haven’t worn any makeup in the last four years.

Would you ever consider getting plastic surgery? Nope.

What do you think makes a person beautiful? There’s physical features, but it’s the inside and who they are as a person that really does it. It’s more than just looks.

C - Consequences What is the longest you've been grounded for? I think it was 2 weeks.

What would you do if you became pregnant? I’d be terrified, confused, freaked out... I’m a virgin and I also can’t get pregnant, so...

Do you ever think about how your actions affect people? Yes.

What do you think is the worst punishment someone could give you? Take away my loved ones.

What is one thing you wish you didn't do because it wasn't worth it? Ignore things that I didn’t think would end up causing a lot of problems for me.

D - Dealing When you're mad at someone how do you show it? I’m short with my responses, my tone, and I’m distant. I’m not going to initiate conversation or any interaction.

Name a time when you had to be strong. I gotta keep going despite how much I’ve been struggling these past few years. I don’t feel strong at all, though. I feel very weak.

Have you ever dealt with divorce? No. I’ve never even been married.

When people don't accept you, how do you react? Hm. I don’t really know.

Have you ever lost someone to death? Yes, I’ve lost a few loved ones.

F - Family Is there anyone in your family you don't talk to? Yeah. There isn’t any beef or drama or anything, I just haven’t seen or talked to some family members in quite a long time. I have a big family and I was closer to some than others and also life just gets crazy and people get busy with their own thing and times goes on. I haven’t seen or talked to a lot of my family these past few years because I’ve just been a hermit crab and distant from everybody. I don’t want to see anyone looking and feeling how I do. :/

If you had to choose: friends or family? My family always.

Do you have any siblings? I have two brothers.

How often do you spend quality time with your family? I spend a lot of time with my parents and brother. We live together and we’re also quite close.

G - Growing How tall are you? Do you wish you were taller or shorter? I’m like 5′4. I do wish I was taller.

Do you think you've grown up in the past year? No.

Do you think you're mature for your age or still childish? I don’t feel like someone in their 30s.

Are you scared to think that one day you'll turn 30, then 40 & 50? Well, I’m 31 now. I cried when I turned 30, not gonna lie. And the way these years fly by 40 isn’t that far away and that’s scary. And then 50... and what scares me about that as well is the fact that I’m not the only one getting older, so do my parents. I don’t like to go there in my thoughts cause that really scares and saddens me.

Do you believe you still have a lot to learn? Oh, most definitely. A lot.

H - Hope Love - real or not? It’s definitely real.

Are you a pessimist or an optimist? I’m definitely a pessimist.

Do you believe in fate or that everything happens for a reason? I do believe everything happens for a reason.

Do you believe that after we die, your spirit is still alive? I believe the spirit leaves the body. When Jesus returns we’ll be resurrected and believers in Christ will be given a new body and go to heaven.

What gives you hope when you just feel like dying? My family keeps me going.

I - Idols Who is your idol? My mom.

What makes this person an idol to you? She’s the most hardworking, loving, caring, generous person I know. She has a big heart and does so much for everyone else, always putting others first. Has this person done anything good to help other people? Absolutely. Does this person have good style? Yes. She always has new clothes, shoes, bags, jewelry and gets complimented all the time. What does this person do for a living? She’s a manager at Walgreens. J - Jokes Tell me an inside joke between you and your friends. I don’t have friends.

Are you usually the person to make people laugh or the other way around? Ha, definitely not me.

Do you cry when you laugh hard? Yeah. I haven’t laughed that hard in a very long time, though.

Do you get in trouble for laughing or talking in class? No, I never did.

Are you good at making jokes? No.

K - Knowledge The prupose of school: learn, hang with friends or cause trouble? Uh, to learn obviously. It’s good for the social aspects as well.

Do people refer to you as dumb, smart or average? People say I’m smart, but I just feel I’m very average.

What kind of grades do you usually get? I always got As and Bs.

What is your favorite subject to learn or talk about? English and psych.

L - Love Are you currently in love? Nope.

Do people around you show a lot of love? Yes.

Is love worth it? Worth what?

Do you hate it when people say "I love you" & they've been dating for a day? Uh, that’d be concerning.

Does it take a lot for you to say you love someone or is it just a word? I don’t take those words lightly and just throw ‘em around.

M - Money Do you believe money makes the world go round? It’s all revolved around money.

How much money do you have on you now? A little.

Are you saving up for anything? Nothing specifically.

Would you rather win 1 million dollars or find true love? This sounds bad, but I think I’d take the money at this point in my life. It would be a huge help and advantage for my family and I.

On a scale 1-10, how important is money to you? I can’t say it’s not important, I rely on it for a lot of things.

N - Nothing to lose Would you ever go on a game show? No.

Do you play the lottery? I have a few times, but not regularly.

Ever been to Las Vegas? Nope.

Have you ever made a bet and then lost? I’ve never made a serious bet.

Do you give your all in a relationship? Yes. Even when we’re not in a relationship. I was devoted and invested in Joseph and we never officially dated. I put my heart completely out there and was rejected.

O - Openess How long does it take you to open up with someone? It takes me awhile. I have a really hard time with that, even with people I’m close to.

What does it take for you to fully trust someone? If I feel comfortable talking to that person and they haven’t given any reason why I couldn’t trust them.

Do you trust people too easily? I wouldn’t say that.

Are you comfortable with everyone? No. And these past few years I don’t feel comfortable around people except for my family. I’m very self-conscious, embarrassed, and ashamed of myself.

Do you tell your parents and friends everything? Not everything.

P - Positive Is your outlook on life positive or negative? I’ve had a very negative, pessimistic, bleak outlook these past few years. It has felt even worse lately

Have you ever had a moment with someone & it didn't end positively? Yeah.

Do you agree with: best to have loved than never loved at all? Yes.

Do you see most things as negative or positive? I think I’ve made it quite clear.

Has anything bad happened but something good came from it? Yes. Hey look, some positivity coming from me. Wow.

Q - Questions When faced with a problem, do you solve it on your own or ask for help? It depends, but admittedly I don’t go to others for help a lot and I should.

Do you like to take quizzes? I like surveys.

If you could ask the president one question, what would it be? Meh.

When someone does something wrong do you ask them about it or let it go? It depends, but honestly probably more likely to let it go.

Do you own plaid shorts? No. Or any shorts.

R - Respect How do you show respect for someone? By listening and being there for them, being polite, being kind...

What can someone do to lose respect for them? Be rude, mean, arrogant, selfish, etc.

Do you respect your parents, teachers or authority? I do.

If you're disrespectful to your parents, whats your punishment? I wasn’t a disrespectful, bad kid, but sometimes kids have an attitude and if I did they would tell me it wasn’t acceptable to talk to them that way.

If someone is mean to you, are you mean back? I’m sure I’d be short and snippy and then just not interact with that person anymore.

S - School If you're still in school, what grade will you be going into? I’m done with school. When will you graduate high school/college? I graduated UC back in 2015.

After high school, what do you plan on doing? I went to community college.

Do you like or hate school? I got very overwhelmed, stressed, and burnt out quite easily, but there were aspects I did like.

Have you ever been expelled or suspended? Nope.

T - Temptation Have you ever done something wrong but inside it was okay? Some things didn’t feel so wrong.

Has anyone ever pressured you to smoke or drink? I have felt pressured to do those things.

Did you ever cheat on someone? No.

Do you give into temptation easily or are you independent? No, I wouldn’t say I do.

U - Unique Do you do a lot of things because your friends are? I’ve felt that way with some things.

Do you follow trends or do whatever you want? I like what I like and it may happen to be trendy or it might not be. I don’t like things just because they’re “in.”

Do you give in easily to peer pressure? No.

What makes you different from people your age? A lot of things. I feel very behind in my life at 31 compared to others I know my age and even younger.

V - Value What's the most expensive thing in your room? My laptop.

What's more valuable: your life or the ones around you? My loved ones.

What's something you value? Not because it’s expensive but it means a lot? Time spent with family.

If there was a fire in your house/apartment what would you grab? Oh man. I’d want to grab as much as I could. Definitely my laptop, phone, medicine, and medical supplies but I’d really try to get as much as I could.

Do you think the past or future is more valuable? Hm.

W - Wishes If you had three wishes, what would they be? Good health, financial stability, and... I don’t know.

Would you rather wish yourself to be happy or others? I want happiness and the best for my loved ones. They truly deserve it.

Do you believe that wishes come true if you really believe? You have to put the time and effort in. And even then it might not happen.

Have you ever had a wish come true? I’ve wished someone would bring me coffee and they did, ha.

Do you find wishing on things to be a waste of time? I don’t make serious wishes.

Y - You Are you more independent or social? I’m definitely not social. I’m independent in that I’m a hermit crab and like my alone time, but I’m dependent quite a bit on my family.

What's something that makes you mad when you see it? Abuse towards children.

Do you have potential to do anything you want? I don’t feel like I do. :/

Do you believe people are born a certain way? In some ways?

What color are your eyes? Brown.

Z - Zest Are you currently happy with your life? No.

When change occurs, do you get scared? Yes.

Do you like to try new things or meet new people? I’m so boring and basic and not adventurous at all, nor am I outgoing or social.

What is the most motivational thing on earth? Money, probably.

Do you have a motto? Nah.

Last questions Do you hate how the letters on the keyboard aren't in ABC order? I’m so used to how it is I can’t imagine it being any different. It’s never bothered me, actually.

Do you drink water? Yeah, kinda have to. I don’t particularly care for it, though.

What did you have for breakfast? It’s only 5:56AM, but I know I won’t have breakfast today.

Do you like convertibles? Sure.

Do you like the American or British way of spelling words? I like the British spelling for some words, like “grey.”

What colors are on your country's flag? Red, white, and blue.

Can you skateboard? Nope.

Do you like long hair? Yeah.

Do you like Fiber One bars? I’ve never tried them but judging from the name I doubt they would be favorites of mine. <<< Yeah, I’ve had no interest in trying them. Healthy snacks like those never taste good to me.

What does your sleeping bag look like? I don’t have one.

Do you like to save your results after a survey? Well, I post them on here. It seems kind of pointless to take them and then not save it.

Do you like Sour Patch Kids? No. I don’t like sour stuff. If you could have your own show, what would it be about? I wouldn’t want my own show.

Ever rode on a jet? No.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #categories #long survey

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ruhkie-a · 4 years

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so. i’ve been holding off on making this post for awhile bc i haven’t known how to word it 100% without hurting feelings (or making people feel like i’m trying to aim this at them, when i promise, i’m not trying to point fingers lol.) but i am still in the process of returning to this blog while considering the idea of entirely rebooting/changing many things about my portrayal of leon. i know i’ve been saying this for months now and trust me, i’ve never forgotten it lmao.

i think the blatant truth at this point is: i’m tired of writing young leon. i’m tired of writing re2 leon and this blog wasn’t ever really meant to be focused on re2 leon; i originally made this blog as a way of exploring post-vendetta leon and the high stress of reaching the end of his career/finally getting the chance to reflect on his life, but i think it kinda turned into young leon’s story over time due to the high demand from writing partners? which i have no issue with but there comes a point where i get bored, you know?

i also had to deal with force shipping on this blog, which got to a point of becoming excessive. it still is. i had blogs who i’d reached out to plot and immediately, they wanted a ship. sometimes people would be discreet, other times they would be so open about it, i would block on the spot. i kinda wanna make it clear right now: i don’t ship on this blog. i got rid of shipping on this blog a very long time ago ~ nearly right when i first made this blog. i’ve got one ship that translates to most universes and that’s it; that’s all i want + all leon wants.

in addition to that, i have had to deal with copious amounts of copying. to every single person who’s stolen something from me; i’ve noticed. i’ve noticed pieces of my old writing being scattered in some of my mutuals writing ~ i’ve noticed aspects of my portrayal being used in others (sometimes it would be certain metaphors/similes i would use with leon, other times it would be headcanons.) i always noticed. i stopped posting headcanons/aspects of my portrayal because sometimes, i would post things and i would see things being rewritten on certain blogs word by word. some of them were leon blogs, some of them were other character blogs who legit had just switched “leon” out for their character’s name! originally, i reached out to people! i would ask for people to take certain things down and then it got to a point of frankly not caring anymore. i got tired of trying to stop something i can’t stop from happening. so i got rid of writing headcanons + other things on my own blog bc i felt like i couldn’t! (this was still occurring while i was on my hiatus, just as an fyi. i wasn’t on this blog and people were still taking things lmao. blows my mind, ye know?)

i also have had a hard time returning after all the recent stuff happening in america (and all over the entire world, honestly) with police officers and police brutality, given so many of my alternative verses take place with leon being a cop. i come from a mixed household and it’s hard writing a cop lol, especially given some of my own personal experiences with cops. basically, it’s really fucking hard writing a cop lmao. i also do believe some of it stems from the tumblr politics which have grown so massively over the past few years. i do get nervous writing certain characters because while i know i’m not doing anything wrong, someone else might deem otherwise. so i avoided this blog like crazy for the longest time ~ i didn’t want to write a cop because fuck the police and i also didn’t want to write this kid who i had kinda grown to hate over the past few months. i hated my portrayal because it wasn’t what i wanted to write.

so ~ i had four things i needed to figure out prior to coming back to this blog. i needed to figure out my portrayal, i need to figure out how to stop people trying to forceship/stealing from me, and i needed to figure out how i felt about writing a cop. i’ve spent the last 5/6 months trying to figure these things out and i think i’ve finally come to somewhat of a conclusion for all of these! (thank god lmao) so, i think within the next few days i’ll be archiving and moving to an entirely new blog. over there, you’ll be able to find a brand new portrayal of my leon on what i want to write. it’ll be my “happy medium” of everything and i’m excited to finally share with y’all what i have been working on for months hehe. ♡

#out.#long post /#idk i kinda wrote this last night and have been sitting on it #because i don't want to sound whiney per say #i don't really talk about my personal feelings on my blogs for that reason?#so idk this is weird to post but i feel almost necessary? esp bc it /is/ leon?#idk ~ tl;dr: i'm archiving leon in the next week and basically rebooting everything #see y'all on the flip side xo

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donavanhall · 3 years

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Acts of Translation

Late in February 2021, I was walking through the Long Island Pine Barrens, along the beginning of the Paumanok Trail. The snow-covered path was marked by the patterned boot tracks of other hikers (only two or three at the most) and the cloven hoof-marks of deer. The sky above the trees was pale blue, tinged with gray. The air was cool, crisp, dry. With each step, my boots compacted the icy slush and sometimes my boot would shift, sliding on the heavy, dense snowpack so that I’d have to compensate with a movement of my upper body and arms to keep my balance and to prevent myself from slipping.

The fourth branch of Jacques Roubaud’s “the great fire of London”, a volume called Poésie: (récit) — I prefer the French title since Poetry: (a story) is less poetic and loses a sense of meaning that I think should be there, poésie to my ear implies a movement that is lost in the more static English word, poetry, and récit (and perhaps this is peculiar to me and has nothing to do with actual French) suggests narration closer to that when a storyteller speaks to a listener who receives the récit and so completes the action, a story doesn’t necessarily require a reader — begins with the Narrator (Roubaud) moving through space, in this case, the space is urban, the streets Paris.

Early in December 1994, I was walking in Paris. The sky was gray, low, the air humid, warm.

For walking in Paris, I wear a blue K-way jacket, and a cap, also blue. The K-way was a gift, not something I’d picked out. It was light, blue, waterproof, costly.

For walking in the woods, I wear an olive green jacket made by Patagonia that zips up the front and has a little pocket over the left breast where I can store my phone for easy access. Around my neck, I wear my “Doctor Who scarf” knitted by my mother. (The scarf isn’t a replica of any of the long scarves worn by the Fourth Doctor, played by actor Tom Baker, but a spirited recreation of the sort that anyone familiar with the various scarves featured in Season 12 through 17 of the TV show would immediately recognize.) On my head I wear a black bowler hat I purchased at the museum shop of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art in 2018 when I took my mother and son to the Magritte exhibit. (The next summer, I would take my wife and son to Brussels to tour the permanent Magritte exhibit at the Musée de Beaux Arts. The study of Magritte’s art and writing is a principal concern of my Project.) The clerk at the shop said this style of bowler hat is the exact same one worn by René Magritte when he was alive. So it should be no surprise that I’m pleased with it and wear it every opportunity I get, and especially when I’m out on my daily walk.

Before the pandemic, I walked every afternoon through the pine barrens. This was easy enough since the office where I perform my paid work (not at all literary) is located in the middle of the pine barrens. There are a network of trails that lead through the woods that are immediately accessible from the back door of the building where I work. A year ago, my office was closed, so that I now work from home. Now my afternoon walks (usually) are taken along the streets in the neighborhood where I live in the village of Long Neck. I’ve become a familiar sight in the neighborhood as the man in the bowler hat. My neighbors wave to me and sometimes will view my unusual headwear as an occasion for conversation. What kind of hat is that? asked one neighbor. Another fellow walker assumed I’m a fan of Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of A Clockwork Orange, a novel by Anthony Burgess. I’m more a fan of the book than I am a fan of the movie, but my bowler hat is most deliberately a nod to Magritte and not to Alex and his three droogs. Throughout the pandemic, Magritte and his art has been my life line.

On his walks in Paris, Roubaud doesn’t wear a bowler — his cap is of a different sort.

I bought the cap in New York, at J.J. Hat Center, at the corner of Broadway and 42nd Street. It’s a hat made in Scotland and the salesperson assured me that it was the same exact style of cap worn by Sean Connery in the film The Untouchables. It’s no surprise that I’m happy with it.

After I’m vaccinated and I feel like taking the Long Island Rail Road to Penn Station again, maybe I’ll go to the J.J. Hat Center myself and shop for a hat. Although according to “the internet” J.J. Hat Center is now located at 310 Fifth Ave (between 31st & 32nd), not far from Penn at all. If/when I do go in to the city, I’ll want to pay a visit to the Fountain Pen Hospital. A man can never have too many hats or too many fountain pens.

I could go along in this vein for quite some time, this leisurely stroll through Roubaud’s Poésie: (récit) allowing his text to guide my own thoughts, reveries, musings, etc. The resulting text would function as a companion text. I’m walking along with Roubaud in Paris as he moves from the National Library, past familiar restaurants, along familiar streets…

I passed between the tops or periscopes of the licorice icebergs of the Buren columns, making sure not to slip on their outgrowths/extensions [? the French word is excroissances, but it’s not obvious to me what these outgrowths or extensions might be], on the damp grills, slimy, soaped with crushed beige leaves. And I made it through with no accidents to Place Colette, on the right side of the Théâtre-Français. This route was well known to me.

...but Roubaud himself is not walking with me, only his text, or perhaps he is with me as an invented copy of an imaginary Roubaud that I carry within myself as I read and as I walk along the snow-covered Paumanok Trail thinking of his book, or books (one book in seven volumes called collectively “the great fire of London”).

I read the first two and a half branches (the first three volumes to be translated into English), starting with Branch One: Destruction in the fall of 2018. Without really intending to, I wrote a little book of jottings while reading Roubaud’s novel. I called my little book, In the Labyrinth of Forking Paths, since “the great fire of London” is “a story with interpolations and bifurcations” with actual links indicating different narrative paths the reader can take during their wandering reading. I was reminded (though only a little) of the choose-your-own-adventure books (published by Bantam) I read when I was a kid. One of my early attempts at writing fiction was a “literary” choose-your-own-adventure called (imaginatively enough) Into the Labyrinth (a slight variation on a title of one of Alain Robbe-Grillet’s novels, Dans le labyrinthe, with whose hyper-descriptive nouveau roman style I’d become bewitched, a style ideally suited to such text adventures). (I published my Into the Labyrinth as an interactive fiction designed for a media platform that worked only on those early generation iPods. I have no idea if anyone ever read/played my interactive fiction even though according to the app, mine was the most downloaded story. It was certainly the longest.) I won’t claim that I have been waiting for the remaining four volumes to be translated into English. In fact, I felt a certain level of contentment with the artificial truncation of the novel — I had read all that I could, all that was available in English, so now I could move on to other things, like reading the works of Miklós Szentkuthy. Procuring and reading the rest of “the great fire of London” wasn’t a tempting prospect until Anthony, author of the blog, Time’s Flow, mentioned that he’d purchased the remaining volumes in French and would be making an attempt to read them. That was all it took. If Anthony was going to do it, then so would I. I ordered copies from a bookseller in France and they arrived last Friday in the post. So when did I get the idea to translate these remaining four volumes into English myself? Was it a serious idea or just another of my fanciful projects? Project 7139: translated two thousand pages of Jacques Roubaud’s “the great fire of London” into English. (For the record, I’m currently working on Project 3 which I started twenty years ago. Project 4 is “write a masterpiece that will establish my literary reputation.” That one might take awhile.) Certainly, I would read these other branches. Or would I? My track record for finishing big projects is not stellar. (The first time I read Proust, it took me ten years.)

While walking in the snow in the pine barrens, I thought about why I was being pulled back into Roubaud’s book. What was it about his very long prose that attracted me? Was this a momentary literary crush or had I fallen for “the great fire of London”? If this were a romance, you could say that Roubaud and I met in the fall of 2018 and spent some time together, mostly walking. We shared our mutual interests, talking about poetry, literature, and mathematics. I learned a great deal about haikai (haiku and haibun), gained a new appreciation of the works of Charles Dickens, and was introduced to Nicholas Bourbaki, and then resumed my own mathematical studies after a hiatus of twenty years, this time beginning with set theory and topology. And then it was over. He had to go. We parted ways.

Then two and half years later, Roubaud pops up again at a party hosted by a friend, this time we’re speaking French — my French is better now, so it’s much easier for us to talk and now I feel something different than I did before. We’re making a real connection. I can feel it. And Roubaud seems somehow changed. When we first met, I was the one who was paying attention to Roubaud, accompanying a new master, and learning new things. Now, this new Roubaud, this French-speaking Roubaud is interested in me, keeps asking me questions, asking for my opinion. Then it dawns on me. Roubaud has chosen me. You’re the one, he says. I’ve picked you.

Of course, this isn’t an exclusive relationship. Such is the way with authors and their books. Readers must share the objects of their affection, but still it feels different when a book chooses you rather than you choosing it.

I’m choosing you. I’m ready whenever you are. Shall we begin?

#jacques roubaud #walking #translation #french #literature

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atinytokki · 4 years

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The Windy Road

vi. The Folded Bluebird

The three month anniversary of the Song family’s arrival in town passed without incident to Mingi’s great relief.

Since that first week in the new house things had calmed down and started looking up.

His parents had a stable trade business going, Minseok had a job serving drinks at the pub he spent so much time at, and Mingi and Bosung played after school just about every day.

A couple of months in, Mingi had been holding his breath, waiting for the day his parents sat them down and explained that they’d be moving again, just like they always did when the weather got cooler and the term was halfway up. But each day came and went with not even the faintest notion of packing and leaving, and on their three month anniversary, Mingi felt assured enough to put away his suitcase.

It was a momentous occasion.

“We haven’t stayed in one place that long in at least the past five years,” he explained to Bosung as they walked home together, swinging their school bags carelessly and kicking colourful leaves out of their way.

“I’m sure you did when you were a baby,” Bosung pointed out. “Travelling with a three month old doesn’t sound very safe.”

“Well, of course,” Mingi scoffed. “But I don’t remember it. The longest I remember staying somewhere was that strange little farm town west of here. The bugs were huge so I mostly stayed inside.”

“You’re such a scaredy-cat,” Bosung giggled at him and linked their arms as they approached their street. “Are you coming to help finish the building project? The Heo family is moving in tomorrow and some things still need to be finished.”

Something else that was different for Mingi— other new people moving in. Being even newer than the Song family was a feat given how often they relocated, and Mingi was having a lot of mixed feelings about the idea.

Still he nodded as the pair passed by both of their cottages and stopped at the end of the street. It was where a brand new house was being built, everything fresh and shiny for the family moving in. Some tiles needed to be fixed on the roofing before it was deemed ready, so both the boys carefully made their way up to where Bosung’s father was already working.

“You know how to handle the tiles properly, right Mingi?” The man asked as Bosung immediately got to work. Being the son of an architect came with its perks. For a fleeting moment, Mingi was jealous.

“Of course!” Mingi lied quickly. “I’ve definitely done this before.”

If the man saw through his dishonestly, he didn’t say, but Mingi noticed the way he slowed down his work speed so Mingi could watch and copy what he was doing.

By sunset the work was finished, and the boys sat, satisfied, on the newly tiled roof and looked out at the stunning view of the sea below them.

Mingi always thought of Hongjoong when he saw the ocean.

It had been a few weeks since he’d seen him, but most of the time if they saw each other it was at the beach.

Part of him felt guilty about neglecting the older boy, but really it was no one’s fault.

Hongjoong had a lot of responsibilities placed on him by his relatives and little time to play, and Mingi was busy with school and Bosung, so Hongjoong naturally fell through the cracks.

Mingi cringed as he thought back to last month when he’d tried to get the two to meet before learning they already knew each other from when Hongjoong used to attend school, before Mingi’s arrival. They had been neighbours and classmates, even though that wasn’t the case anymore.

It was easy to see that living with his extended family at Jangwon Hall changed things for Hongjoong and kept him cooped up there much more than he’d like, so Mingi felt relieved when he found him at the beach every once in awhile, free for a chat or a picnic.

“I heard one of the Heo family’s children is our age,” Bosung broke into Mingi’s thoughts casually.

“Really?” Mingi perked up. Three whole friends at once? That would be nothing short of a miracle. “I hope they’re nice.”

“Me too,” Bosung sighed contentedly. “We’ll be the three neighbours and friends.”

“But nothing will change between us, right?” Mingi asked after a pause. He hated to sound desperate, but he’d gotten invested in this friendship against his natural instincts, and he’d hate to see anything destroy it. “We’ll still be best friends.”

“Of course!” Bosung laughed, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “We’ll always be best friends.”

...

Mingi heard her before he saw her.

As he neared the schoolhouse, a laugh rang out and immediately caught his attention. It wasn’t a laugh he recognised and it was quite loud for so early in the morning, when he was practically still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

A new girl sat a couple of seats away from his, with a pretty red ribbon in her braided her, laughing at something Bosung told her.

The pair perked up when Mingi entered and made their way over to him as he dropped his bag on his desk.

“Mingi!” Bosung called. “This is Heo Dahye. Dahye, my best friend Song Mingi. He’s the one who lives a couple of houses down from you.”

Heo Dahye.

The new neighbour, a classmate their age... and somehow, Mingi hadn’t considered that she’d be a girl or that she’d be this pretty.

“Here, I made you this,” she broke into a smile and pulled something out from behind her back, shoving it into his hands. It was a little paper bluebird, crafted delicately from folding paper and decorated with colourful ink. It was cheery and pleasant— just like Dahye.

“Th-Thank you,” Mingi finally got out, returning a shy smile and setting the bird on his desk so it was facing him. It was like a little treasure. “Welcome to Panhang, by the way.”

“I got one, too!” Bosung interrupted, breaking the spell as he waved a red folded bird in Mingi’s face. “Isn’t she talented? I suggested she try making a sea turtle next.”

Dahye chuckled again before becoming distracted by the school mistress’ appearance and rushing off to give her a special folded bird of her own.

“She seems a lot more excited about moving here than you were,” Bosung prattled on as he took his seat. “Anyway, I asked her if she wanted to go sailing some time next week, just the three of us, since she’s never been on the ocean before. You can handle the boat, right?”

Mingi suddenly blanched and thought back to his first day at school. He still hadn’t come clean about his complete inability to sail after that first conversation with Bosung, and it looked like now he was finally being tested on it. But now that Dahye was involved, he couldn’t just fess up and let someone else go with them in his place.

“Y-Yes, I can do that... if you can find a boat for us to use...” he smiled weakly and opened up his textbook as class began, panicking internally.

Now he had Dahye and Bosung to impress with his famed boating skills, and if Bosung was looking to show off as much as it seemed he was, there was no way he’d rent them a small, easy-to-use, canoe type vessel.

Mingi spent all day chewing his lip and looking for a solution before remembering— Hongjoong’s parents had been fishing when they died, which meant he most likely knew how to fish too, which meant he most likely also knew how to sail.

Suddenly, Mingi had a plan.

While the three of them walked home, he peeked at the cliffside and hoped Hongjoong would be there. After making a flimsy excuse about needing to study, Mingi waited until Dahye skipped off to unpack and Bosung was gone to run down to the beach and pace in the sand at the place Hongjoong usually met him.

It was almost an hour until the older boy appeared, surprised to see Mingi waiting for him.

Mingi wasted no time, grabbing him by the arms and whispering in a low voice, “Hongjoong, I need you to teach me to sail by next week or my friendships are over and my reputation is destroyed.”

“Oh...” Hongjoong whispered back, removing himself from Mingi’s grip before looking around. “Why are we whispering?”

“I don’t know, I’m just nervous,” Mingi whined, pulling at his hair. “Why did I have to tell Bosung I was good at sailing, and why did he have to remember it and bring it up to Dahye...”

“I take it something happened?” Hongjoong ventured hesitantly, watching as Mingi flopped down in the sand.

“This new girl moved in and she’s amazing but Bosung decided to be a show off and offer up my nonexistent sailing skills to impress her. I can’t believe I singlehandedly ruined my own life. Unless...”

“You want me to help you?” Hongjoong summarised for him, sitting down along side him. “You know, it takes more than a couple of days to become an expert.”

“Teach me how to fake it then?” Mingi squeaked, embarrassed. Here Hongjoong had probably been hoping they could catch up and play around for the first time in awhile and Mingi was begging impossible tasks from him instead.

Predictably, Hongjoong’s eyes dropped and he pulled his legs up to his chest with a sigh, gaze on the water as usual. “Mingi, I... don’t want to go back out there.”

It made sense. These waters were dangerous at times and full of particularly bad memories always.

“But you’re always here on the beach,” Mingi pointed out. “Haven’t you been out on the water since... that night?”

Hongjoong shook his head vehemently and inhaled a tremulous breath. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly after a pause. “I just can’t.”

Mingi swallowed the guilty lumps bunched up in his throat and nodded in understanding.

“However,” Hongjoong continued, turning to face him again. “I can teach you what I know from on dry land.”

A smile slowly grew on Mingi’s face and he leaned forward with expectation. “Do you mean it?”

Hongjoong nodded and beamed as Mingi tackled him in a hug. “It won’t be easy, but as long as you don’t sink, you should be fine.”

Mingi gasped and pulled away. “Don’t joke like that!”

Hongjoong ignored his comment and got to his feet. “Alright, listen up. Lesson one is starting now.”

Mingi grinned from ear to ear and raised an arm in mock salute. “Yessir!”

...

When the day arrived, Mingi felt like his heart would pump out of his chest.

“My parents said not to go too far out,” he prefaced as he inspected the boat, recalling the names and functions of all the sheets and ropes he had spent day and night studying about. It wasn’t just an excuse either, his mother still worried when it came to the sea.

“That’s fine by me,” Dahye chirped agreeably, peeking out from under the rim of a cute little sun hat, decorated with her trademark red ribbon.

Mingi let Bosung do most of the entertaining as soon as they were out on the water, focused on keeping them afloat and checking the weather.

There were a thousand and one things to be on top of and the time passed by quickly, gathering clouds sending them back to the beach when their afternoon was spent.

Relieved and resigned never to lie again, Mingi walked home with his friends and paid special attention to the way Dahye smiled at him in thanks.

“You did well for a first-timer,” she nudged him slyly as soon as Bosung had broken off when they reached his house.

“Wh-What?” Mingi spluttered, glancing around. “I don’t know what you mean. You’re the first-timer, not me.”

“Actually, I only said I’ve never been on the ocean. My father owned a riverboat service in the town we came from,” she giggled. Their pace slowed down as they neared Mingi’s cottage. “Besides, I saw you practicing on the beach with that other boy. I don’t remember seeing him in class, what’s his name?”

Pretty, talented, and smart. Mingi could feel his cheeks getting warm the longer she stared at him.

“Uh, um, right, that’s Hongjoong. Kim Hongjoong, he lives at Jangwon Hall up the beach from here. Actually he used to live in my house— well, it’s a bit of a story.”

“I’ve got time,” Dahye smiled warmly and clasped her hands behind her back as they sauntered up the path towards her place.

“I’ll walk you home then,” Mingi offered eagerly, feeling something flutter in his chest.

He didn’t quite know what it was, but it was the start of something exciting.

...

A/N: Hey guys! It’s been awhile since updating this one and suddenly we’re halfway through it?! (According to the outline that I may or may not follow, anyway) Well, I hope you liked it and don’t forget to give some love and have a nice day :)

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hazzmedicine · 5 years

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his replacement pt. 3

a/n: Here is part 3!! It took me about 4 hours so I hope you enjoy! There will be a part 4 2.7K

2 days. Harry had no idea what to do in LA for the next 2 days until his flight to the Bahamas. By default, he was gonna spend them worrying. Thoughts ran through his mind of all the things Y/N and Shawn could do in a paradise. Perhaps she’d let him see her in the same intimate way Harry had seen her so many times before. Or maybe she’d decide he was much more of a gentleman and completely rid Harry from her life, although he knew he deserved it but it still hurt.

But he couldn’t dwell on it too much. He spent two days reflecting on the events leading up to this moment. How this messy situation started and what drove her away. Including the argument that he didn’t think would make such a drastic change between them.

A few days before they were supposed to leave for their trip, Y/N had arrived at Harry’s house to hangout like she usually did. They were sitting on the couch, some music on for background noise. Harry was busy on his laptop - business emails awaiting him - and Y/N was scrolling through her social media apps to pass the time until she had his attention.

“Oh my god, Harry, look at this.” Y/N tilted her phone his direction so he could quickly glance at the picture of a friend of hers posing on the beach. It may not have been the same beach where they were heading to but it was still beautiful. Harry only responded with a lift of his eyebrows in an uninterested expression before going back to typing. “I can’t wait for our trip. Which reminds me, have you packed yet?”

Y/N could tell he wasn’t listening, she’d learned he’s not very good at focusing on two different things at once. He confirms her thought when after a long pause, he says, “What’d ya say?”

With a slightly frustrated sigh, she repeats herself slowly. “Have you packed yet, ya know, for our trip?” He fully looks up from his device with furrowed brows.

“Uh, no. What trip?” At first, Y/N thought he must be joking. But when he stayed silent and the questioning look remained, she realized he truly forgot.

“Harry, you really forgot?! The trip I booked for us 2 weeks ago for the Bahamas.” The more details she gave, the more he still didn’t recall any of these plans.

“Why would you plan a trip for us?” Y/N went on to explain the discussion they had those 2 weeks ago. She mentioned him going on a vacation a few weeks before he went on his world tour because she knew how restless touring got. And he told her what a great idea that would be but of course he didn’t want to go alone. And as she continued to elaborate on the details, she found herself getting more and more angry. Here they were a few days away from what was supposed to be a nice, relaxing vacation (that she lowkey hoped would develop their relationship) and he couldn’t remember a single thing about what they had talked about.

He took note of frustration in her voice, and decided to add on to his list of mistakes that night. “Ok I didn’t mean to forget, but either way I’m not going.” That sentence is all it took for her jaw to drop. Meanwhile, he goes back to focusing on whatever emails his team has sent him.

“Wh-what do you mean you’re not going?! I plan something nice for you that you seemed so excited for last week and now all of a sudden you’re not going?!” The disbelief in her voice is clear

“Listen Y/N, I don’t have time to go on holiday, okay?” His patience has run thin and his tone has turned rude. “I have a world tour I need to prepare for. So as I just said. I’m. Not. Going. I don’t get why you care so much anyway.” His excuse ignites a flame inside her while his lack of compassion stings her heart.

Grinding her teeth, she takes his laptop from him to get his full attention. Before he can even protest, she cuts him off. “I care because I’ve spent all this time planning and paying for a trip with you. But here you are canceling on me very last minute! And that’s frustrating, Harry, because this would’ve been our last chance to spend time together before you disappear for months on tour.” Y/N mentally pats herself on the back for staying composed as she tells him how she’s feeling. Now this would be the time when the Harry she knows would see the other side and apologize or try to come to a compromise.

Too bad this wasn’t the Harry she knows. “God, Y/N, spending time with you isn’t my top priority right now. You’re not my fucking girlfriend so get off my back. I’ve got things to take care of here in LA, the beach isn’t going anywhere. So if you don’t mind, I was in the middle of something.” He grabs the laptop back from where she had put it before she could respond.

But she didn’t even know how to respond. She was hurt to say the least, but also mad as hell. Across from her was a total asshole who felt no guilt for degrading her after she had given so much of herself to him. How does one respond after being blindsided like so?

“Fuck you, Harry.”

And Harry hasn’t seen her since. He hasn’t talked to her in any way since because she won’t respond to him. And now he has to wait impatiently to apologize in person in two days. These are about to be the longest days of his life.

---

Y/N and Shawn, however, know exactly how to pass the time on their trip. They visit the beach everyday, whether it is to swim or just for a nice morning walk. They fell into a routine of Y/N either cooking or ordering breakfast while Shawn meditates on the back deck. And then they choose something to do that day.

Yesterday, they went swimming with pigs and snorkeling. And today, they headed onto a boat to explore the ocean and surrounding island. It was the evening activity that they were looking forward to the most. The beach bar. Luckily for them, the legal drinking age is 18 so Shawn could join in on the fun.

And that’s exactly what they did. After a fun boat trip, that she even got to do a little steering, they cleaned themselves up and went to a beach bar within walking distance.

Shawn can’t figure out if it’s the lighting in this mostly outside bar or the two beers that he has already downed, but something has him noticing Y/N’s beauty more than usual. He’s always saw her as a gorgeous girl and sometimes her laugh made his knees weak, but at this moment she looked ethereal. The sun that she has endured has tanned her smooth skin, that is noticeable in her shorts and tube top, and lightened her hair in a way that makes it look perfect as it rests on her shoulder.

But it’s the smile she’s wearing as she strikes up conversation with the older, local bartender that has him mentally swooning over her. He’s never had a chance to admire her for her kindness. His thoughts consumed by her are temporarily distracted as she pulls him back into their conversation and continues to hand him alcoholic beverages.

By the end of the night, the alcohol is having a strong effect on both of them, Shawn more than her. She wanted to be able to walk them to their temporary home when they were done. She says goodbye to the bartender, who she genuinely enjoyed talking to, and takes another drink out of Shawn’s hand.

“Goodbye you two. You guys make a beautiful couple by the way.” The words of the bartender, although incorrect, make it impossible for her not to smile. She thanks him and collects Shawn from his seat.

The walk back was interesting. Y/N was sober enough to know how to get there but she definitely didn’t it walking in a straight line. And Shawn, oh that boy. He'd occasionally start yelling lyrics from infamous songs out into the quiet night. He would claim to get dizzy every once and awhile so he held onto Y/N to keep his balance. She didn’t mind his physical contact to say the least.

When they arrived at the house, Y/N had dropped him off at his door and let him figure out what to do from there. She had gone to her own room - the one that faced the beach and the waves could be heard - and undressed into pajamas. She pondered if she had enough energy to remove her makeup and decided to just do it so that morning her wouldn’t be mad.

Y/N hadn’t even been in bed for 5 minutes before there was a knock on her door. “Yes, Shawn?” she groaned. He opened the door enough to pop his head in, some curls dangling onto his face.

“Y/N, can I ask for a favor.” This piqued her interest because what could he possibly need this late and this drunk.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“It’s just that,” he interrupted himself with a soft giggle, “I’m kinda, a little, tiny bit drunk.” His slurred words and his need to state the clear observation makes Y/N laugh at how adorable he is. “And well, I can’t sleep in my room because the waves are too loud and are giving me a headache.”

Shawn’s room was in the opposite direction from hers, which means it’s farther from the beach and the sound of the waves are much fainter. Y/N knew this even with the alcohol running in her system. But she didn’t say anything because she knew this was his attempt in sharing a bed with her, and she could use some harmless company.

“Fine, get over. Don’t hog the covers though.” The edges of his lips perk up into a smile and he rushes in before she can change her mind. She takes in his appearance. Somehow he was able to undress himself in his state and now all he has on are his signature Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

Even under the influence, Shawn is still respectful and keeps a good amount of distance between them, not wanting to cross too many boundaries - at least not all in one night.There’s a moment of silence between them and she thinks he may be asleep from how deep his breathing has gotten. However, Shawn clears his throat to speak.

“Y/N?”

“Shawn?”

“I agree with Lukas. We would be a beautiful couple.”

Speechless. Y/N can’t find words. What kind of response was he looking for? Was that his way of admitting he had feelings for her? So many things she was thinking about. And luckily he had fallen asleep soon after, giving her the time to sort through her thoughts.

---

All that sorting had put her to sleep and when she wakes up in the morning she had noticed her pillow had shifted from fluffy cotton to muscly flesh. Lifting her head to observe her position, she sees that her head was rested on Shawn’s chest, her arm draped over his stomach, and their legs intertwined. She has always been a cuddly person so she’s not surprised she migrated towards him in her sleep.

She looks up to his face to see that he is still asleep, soft snores leaving his slightly parted lips. He looks so soft and peaceful. She continues to admire him until a weak headache begins pounding on the back of her head. Slowly removing herself from Shawn, which causes him to stir a little, she tiptoes to her bag to grab the advil she packed. She grabs some for herself and then leaves some on the bedside for him to take when he awakes. She leaves the room to get some water for the both of them and order some breakfast.

She returns right as he starts to stir awake. She crawls back onto the bed and sits on her knees. “Morning, sunshine.” He groans in pain from the headache the alcohol has left him and from the brightness of the sun shining through the window. Wordlessly, she hands him the water and the pills to help with the hangover.

“How’d I end up here - I mean I’m not complaining, just wondering,” he asks after successfully swallowing his medication and gives her a sly smile. Y/N didn’t know if she should bring up the “beautiful couple” part from last night.

“You practically begged to cuddle with me last night and I was feeling generous.” He could tell right off the bat that she wasn’t being serious.

“Oh really? Are you sure you weren’t the one begging for me?” His teasing words cause a faint blush on her cheeks.

“I’m positive. You were the drunk one so it’s not like you can remember.” Oh, but if only she knew the parts he did remember. He remembered the way he clung onto her on the way home and how much he missed her presence when she had left him in his room. He even remembers his last words before falling asleep and waking up in the middle of the night to her nuzzling into his chest.

“Is that so? Then what else am I forgetting about last night?” Y/N is internally panicked. Bringing up his previous statement from the night before could lead to a conversation full of answers to her many questions. Or she could just embarrass herself because maybe he didn’t mean it.

She would never know unless she asked. “You may have mentioned something about us.”

He raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Us? What about us?”

She bites her lower lip out of nervousness. “Oh, just something about being a beautiful couple, no biggie.” He lets out a soft chuckle at her faux chill attitude.

“And how did you feel about that?” She scooted closer to him. She stayed rested on the knees as the one side of her leg rested against the side of his leg. He was resting against the headboard and moved his hand to rest on her knee.

“Honestly, I haven’t decided yet but it’s definitely not the worst idea I’ve heard.” It may not be a clear yes, but the way she talked so shyly, her response has made him giddy and full of hope.

“Well then maybe I can help you make up your mind.” He moves his hand from her knee up to cup her cheek. She takes note of how sexy he looks with that devilish smirk on his lips. He slowly leans in until his face, or more specifically his lips were inches away. “Can I kiss you,” he asks softly. It looks like she got the answer to her many questions.

She doesn’t respond before closing the distance between them. Her hands automatically moved to the back of his neck. Butterflies swarmed her stomach when she felt his tongue lick her bottom lip, asking for entrance. She gladly accepted and, with his guidance, she moved to straddle his lap.

The sound of the doorbell is what breaks their heated kiss. Shawn raises his eyebrows in question as to who is at the door. “I ordered breakfast. I’ll be right back.” Y/N swings her leg up and over to get down from the bed. Just as she starts walking away, Shawn grabs her wrist lightly and turns her around. He pulls her in for a quick sweet peck to the lips and lets her leave to get their food.

His sweet gesture makes her giddy and smile like a lovesick idiot. How can she not when she was just kissing Shawn Mendes, hottie extraordinaire. She felt at peace for how things were turning out for her. She grabs her wallet off the counter to pay for the food. The impatient delivery man knocks again.

“Relax,” she says as she answers the door, “I’m right he- Harry?”

Since when did Harry Styles become a delivery man?!

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