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foap-enjoyer · 7 months

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Drugging | Sick | Poisoned

Sick.

'Soap thinks he's got just a simple cold. Nope. Anyway, cue blizzard safehouse one bed trope because I'm lazy'

Trigger warnings for this prompt: Vomit. Ships for this prompt: Sort of the start of Ghoap? Ghost is very affectionate, more or less.

The one my lovely tumblr people voted on all those days ago! :)

Read it here, on AO3: Ouch. - Chapter 5 - Tsukuyomi_Ravioli - Call of Duty (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

Missions in Russian mountains were becoming way too common.

At least, that’s what Soap thought.

There were positives to mountain missions, he supposed. There were positives to everything. A beautiful view; clean, fresh, untouched air. Sometimes, on long missions, he would even see rare wildlife, animals which had never seen a human before. They would peer at him through the brush, eyes bright and curious. Sometimes, some would even come over, eat a bite of whatever he had on offer before scrambling away. He liked those pros.

But the cons? Well those fucking sucked. The cold, firstly. The cold sucked- oh, and don’t forget the lack of signal, which meant no far-lined comms, no phones, no nada. Just him, his team, and a shit ton of snow, usually for days at a time. It could drive even the most social of men insane.

Oh, and to top it off, as a little added bonus for this mission, because that’s just how he rolls- he was sick. Not super sick, mind you. It’d started off as a cold, when he’d woken up pre-mission. At least, he assumed it was. Itchy throat, ugly cough, his usual first symptoms.

In his childhood, he would have curled up into a tiny, sniffling ball and let his mammy hold him, and soothe the pain away just with her touch. But now, he was a fully grown man. A grown man who worked in a job that, unlike being a student in school, would not tolerate a day off. Especially for something as small as a cold.

So, brushing his teeth, tying his laces, and grabbing his bag, he went out to face the day head on. Like a soldier would.

He really wished he was still seven, still at home with his mum.

This… cold was no fucking cold. This was a parasite worming its way into every orifice of his body, a disease spreading through his blood, an alien forcing itself inside his chest, taking control of every nerve and joint and muscle until he was nothing but mush.

Fucking cold his ass. If this was a cold, maybe it was time to retire, because he clearly was getting too old for this shit.

The harshness of the Russian wilderness didn’t help his case one bit.

They’d landed at their respective drop-off points. Price and Gaz were on the complete opposite side of the mountains to him and Ghost, and the plan was to meet in the middle, where he and Gaz would infiltrate the government-owned set of buildings as Price and Ghost ran overwatch on the outskirts. A simple enough plan, until the blizzard hit.

“You’re telling me that higher-ups can plan entire wars to a T, if they wanted to, but they can’t check the fucking weather?”

That was Gaz, voice static-y through the comms. He sounded pissed, and of course he was, he was allowed to, given their situation. Hell, Soap was too. Price sighed, and Soap could imagine him rolling his eyes at the younger man, “There’s nothing we can do about it, Sergeant, so quit whining. Ghost?”

Ghost was behind him, using his path through the heaps of snow surrounding them to guide himself, and his sniper-kit through the rocky terrain. He could hear the man grunt as he lugged the heavy bag over a large rock in their path. “Yeah, Cap?”

“There should be a little safehouse just a few klicks North of your position. Fancy taking a wander over there? Can’t do shit if this storm keeps up like this.”

Ghost grasped Soap’s shoulder, altering his course slightly up the hill, rather than downwards. Soap’s knees wobbled with exhaustion, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Back up they go. “We’ll take a look. What’re you two doing?”

“Cap’s looking now, says there’s a cave nearby.” Gaz huffed out a laugh, “At least you guys get an actual house.”

Soap chuckled softly, his teeth chattering together like a talkative parrot, “Send me a pic if you find a bear in there, Kyle, would you? You know they’re my favourite animal.”

“Will do, prick.”

The comms silenced soon after. Soap assumed it was because, like them, Gaz and Price were having to hike a while to get to their location. The mountains weren’t the steepest, deadliest of mountains, but in a blizzard as bad as this one, you needed full concentration.

The wind was at its peak now, whistling through the canyons of the snowy wilderness, spiking him right through his clothing with its cold crystals of air and ice. If it weren’t for his deathly grip onto the passing uncovered roots of mountain-grown trees, he’s certain he would have fallen right off of the cliff-face by now.

He felt numb, his whole body was ice-cold. He was trembling, at least, which was a good thing. Meant his body was still working. Ghost was still behind him, lagging behind slightly, preoccupied with lugging his bags as well as checking their location. When he’d last trusted himself enough to look back, the man had been busy checking a little grey piece of technology, the blue light reflecting in his snow-white mask.

He knew that the little ipod-like thing hadn’t initially been supposed to be used to find this supposed safehouse, but rather help Ghost angle himself correctly when it came to overwatch protection. For later in the mission. At least higher-ups had been courteous enough to give them some form of direction in case of an emergency.

“Should be over this last hill!” Ghost startled him with his shout, even if he barely heard it over the wind. A hand clasped his shoulder when he stumbled, startled, and he could see a gloved finger in his peripheral, pointing in said direction. When Ghost spoke next, his voice was in his ear. “Through those trees.”

He nodded.

Another twenty, maybe thirty minutes, and they finally, finally came upon the house. If he was honest, it was more of a glorified shed, maybe. At least from a distance. No windows, one door, a little wooden building sat nestled between a few cut-down stumps of previous trees. Maybe the wood used to make it? Probably.

The door had been locked, but a sharp boot to the lock had solved that issue. Their fingers were too numb to pick the lock anyway.

Inside, it wasn’t too bad. There was a little fireplace, a sofa- actually no, it was a pullout sofa-bed, actually. In the other room, the only other room, a tiny kitchen. That was it, really. It wasn’t the worst safehouse he’d seen (he’d give that to the one he’d stumbled into, half stabbed, in Romania a few years back), but it wasn’t the best either. It didn’t even have a bathroom!

Ghost got to work as soon as the door was closed behind them. He shuffled forward, dumping his kit on the floor as he began shedding his clothes piece-by-piece, dumping them onto the back of the sofa-bed. He was in the middle of taking his shoes off before he peered up at Soap, confused. “Johnny?”

He blinked. “Yeah?”

“Clothes.”

He blinked again, before nodding, fingers trembling, fumbling for his coat’s zipper, “Yeah, gotcha.”

“No inappropriate joke today, Sergeant?”

He shook his head tiredly, “Too fuckin’ cold, LT.”

A soft huff of a laugh, and Ghost placed his boots against a nearby wall, tugging his soggy, icy mask off. Frost clung to his eyelashes, and calloused fingers rubbed at them. Once the majority of the white was gone from the hairs, Ghost’s eyes were on him again, eyebrow curled, “Soap?”

Oh. He was staring again. He shook his head, going back to fumbling with his stuff. “Sorry.”

If Ghost was worried, he didn’t say anything about it. “I’m gonna go look at the kitchen for some food.” He said instead, “You get the fire going when you can. You’re right, it’s fucking freezing.”

He watched as the man turned his back and waltzed into the kitchen. Which, technically, was simply an extension of the living room. All that separated them was a tiny archway, after all.

Once he finally got his coat off, and tossed onto the floor, was when his body began to fail him.

“Ghost…?”

“Yeah?” Ghost turned, peering at him from the other room, his eyes dark in the dim lighting of the safehouse. “What’s up?”

“I don’t…” He swallowed harshly. The room was beginning to spin violently, and he reached a hand out desperately to clutch onto the nearest object, that being the sofa. “I don’t feel so good…”

“Johnny?” Ghost’s voice was starting to fade out as he fought to keep himself upright.

Something was buzzing under his skin, warm and itchy. Sweat pooled against his neck. He had been cold only a moment ago, freezing, even… What was wrong with him? “Simon?”

A hand on his shoulder, “I’m here.”

“I think…” His stomach coiled, and he squeezed his eyes shut with a soft hiccup, “‘m gonna be sick.”

“Alright, alright.” Simon’s hands wrapped around him, guiding him forward, towards the small kitchen. But as soon as his hand released its deathly grip on the sofa, Soap’s knees gave in.

He would have hit the floor if it weren’t for Simon, who took his weight with a grunt, barely managing to move them forward off of carpet and onto tile before Soap vomited.

“Easy, Johnny,” He could hear Simon attempt to soothe as he retched, fully held up in the older man’s arms. He felt limp, boneless, “Easy.”

His world continued to spin violently as he heaved, the cold tile on his knees sharply contrasting the horrible burning sensation consuming him whole. He whimpered, trying to squirm away from the heat inside him. Simon just held him tighter. “It’ll be over soon.”

“I-” He retched again, dry heaving over a steadily growing pile of vomit. His eyes stung, and he choked on a sob. “Fuck-”

A hand pressed into his forehead. “You’re burning up…” Simon muttered softly, “Fuck, Johnny, why didn’t you tell me?”

He hiccuped, turning to press his head under the crook of Simon’s neck. He was crying, he could feel the familiar wet warmth soaking into the fabric of Simon’s shirt. He wanted to apologise, but breathing was hard enough at the minute. His hands, trembling, clutched onto Simon wherever he could get a good grip, circling around the man’s back, holding tight.

He swore a kiss pressed into his hair. He swore it. “You’re alright, I got you.” Simon’s voice was firm, and yet it was laced with worry. They were both hardened soldiers, he shouldn’t be sobbing like this over a simple sickness. It had to be something more, right? After a moment, “Do you still feel sick?”

He shook his head.

“Okay.” Simon took a moment to think, to breathe. Soap. “Okay. I’m going to move you to the sofa, and then clean this up. Think you can move?”

He shook his head again. His knees felt like jelly, if he got up, he’d most definitely fall right back down.

“It’s alright,” Simon murmured, “I’ll carry you.”

With a quick rearrange of arms, followed by a soft grunt, Simon lifted him up. Instinctively, Soap clutched close, squeezing his eyes shut once more as his head spun. As soon as Simon settled him onto the sofa only inches away, he brought a hand up to his mouth, dry heaving into his palm once more. No vomit, this time.

A hand rubbed at his back. “Easy.” A hand in his hair. He leaned against it tiredly as Simon helped him lean backwards onto the old cushions. “Just breathe. It’ll help.”

As soon as he was sitting comfortably, the hands were gone. His eyes cracked open, looking around. Simon had just… disappeared.

“Si’?” He croaked, anxiety coiling. He hadn’t heard him leave, where was he? “Right here.” A damp cloth touched his forehead, and moments later the man was back in view, kneeling down in front of him. A bowl was given to Soap, settled in his lap neatly. “If you’re sick again.”

“Oh.” He rasped. Yeah, of course Simon would think to go grab something.

A glass of water was offered next. His hands reached out shakily to take it, but Simon didn’t let go, instead holding the glass steady as Soap brought it to his lips, taking small sips. He pulled it away a moment later. “Not too much.” He reminded Soap, “It’ll make you throw up.”

He hummed tiredly. “I know.”

“Now you’re not puking your guts up.” The glass was placed onto a nearby old, dusty coffee table. Simon’s eyes were on him not long after. “Care to explain why you thought it was a good idea to come out on a mission when you were feeling like shit?”

“I didn’t feel bad this morning.” Which was true. Sort of. It’d, mostly, come on suddenly. “Once I felt sick, we were already off.”

“You could’ve still told someone.” Simon’s voice was soft, but firm. “Price, Gaz, me, hell, even the pilots. Anyone, Soap.”

“Sorry.” He whispered tiredly. “Wasn’t thinking.”

“I can’t get a hold of Price.” That woke him a little. “Signal’s shit. Blizzard is practically snowing us in, I think.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Simon sighed, hand reaching up to brush some blonde, stray strands behind his ear. “But we’ve got a while before we’ll need to check back in. So, we’ll just hunker down. Feel like eating?”

He shook his head. Simon’s eyes softened. “You need to, Johnny.”

He shook his head again, eyes drooping slightly. “‘M tired.”

“Alright.” Simon relented, biting his lip. “Alright. I’ll… We can eat later?”

He nodded. That worked.

“You take the sofa,” Simon went to move, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

He reached out, grasping his wrist. “We can share.” He murmured, exhausted. “It’s a sofa-bed.”

“Yeah, like a single bed.” The older man huffed, “I can take the floor.”

He didn’t let go of the man’s wrist. Simon didn’t pull away, either. “Just sleep here.” He yawned, “‘S easier.”

There was a pause, before a soft; “You’re not gonna puke on me, are you?”

He chuckled, eyes already closed, “Only if you snore.”

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lovingbradshawafterdark · 8 months

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Love for the game

Thomas Shelby x fem!Reader (Assassins Creed Au)

Summary: The Templars gave you the goal of seeing if Thomas Shelby is the assassin known as the rook. You didn't mean to fall in love and carry something within.

Warnings: betrayal, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blood mentions and blades, attempted assault. Pregnancy. Canon typical violence.

Word count: 1.3k

A/n: I haven't written anything in forever so I'm sorry if this is bad

Trying to trick Thomas Shelby was probably the worst decision you ever made. The pay from the templars, however, was something you needed to survive, they worked in secret and didn't make their presence known. The goal they gave to you was to see if Thomas Shelby and the other peaky blinders were a part of the brotherhood of assassins, the one known as Rook, who hid in the shadows.

You worked as a humble barmaid in the garrison, and it worked. You caught his eye all those nights ago. The simple things were told to you: a blade hidden under his clothes near his arm and a small brand on his finger. The only blades you saw were sewn into their caps and you couldn't find any brand, Yet here you were, pushed against a wall as he undressed you.

“I’ve been waitin' all fuckin day for this,” he groaned as he kissed your neck while you tried to drag him into the bedroom. He had warmed up to you quickly, not suspecting anything.

“Tommy~” you moaned before he pushed you onto the bed. His blue eyes watched you like you were only a small animal before he finally managed to get your dress down and reveal your nearly naked form.

“I’m going to fucking ravish you,” he growled while he straddled you. You let a small gasp before he gently grabbed your chin. “You’re beautiful.”

“Fuck me, Tommy,” you whispered as you freed him from his boxers. His hard cock is already twitching in your hand. “Hard day?”

“Yes,” he breathed while you pumped him, his throat tightening as you reached toward his face.

“Then be rough with me. Take what you need,” you say before bringing him down against your lips, his teeth nearly biting your lips. He groaned again before moving your hand away and pulling off your knickers.

“Oh, I’ll be rough with ya.” Thomas licked him before pushing against your entrance. Your body trembled. “I have the best cock, after all.” he didn't give you time to adjust before widely thrusting into you, the words that would fall from your mouth being reduced to ohs and ahs.

“Tommy, I'm gonna cum!” you slurred as he grunted while furiously fucking you in a way you hadn't seen before, like he was a wild animal. He barely gave you time to breathe before you came around him, your walls squeezing him harshly.

“Fuckin hell!” he hissed as his eyes rolled back and spilled inside you. He breathed and stayed inside you momentarily, only pulling out when you were too sensitive.

“I have something to tell you,” you breathe out after pure ecstasy. Tommy only smiled before looking down at your hand. You forgot to remove your ring—the ring the templars had given you.

“Where did you get that?” His tone shifted as he grabbed your wrist.

“W-what?” Your heart raced as he squeezed tighter. His blue-loving eyes filled with hatred.

“The ring…” his eyes narrowed and the Thomas Shelby they had warned you about came out.

“Tommy-” you tried to free yourself from his grip, yet he pushed you against the bed. You hyperventilated as you heard him grab something, a gauntlet that hid under his sleeve usually. You cringed as it unsheathed and was brought to your neck. Your throat filled with bile as he stared back at you with hatred you swore you'd catch on fire from his look alone, his eyes blue but felt as though they were red with anger. Yet he only held the blade to your throat, unable to do the act, your blood was the only thing to make him sick. You both were stuck there for several moments, your heart threatening to pound out of your chest.

“You’re an assassin…the rook…” your heart ached as you had pleaded he wasn’t one…wasn’t the man you were told to fear. The silly lies you told yourself were false. Every report you have from the Templsrs was false.

“Get out…OUT!” he yelled before letting you go as you started to cry. Thomas threw your clothes at you. “Templar whore!” he spat as he shoved you out of the room. The only thing covering you was your clothes in your hands. The comfort was the moon.

***

“She's working with the Templars. She had a ring,” Thomas spoke lightly as he smoked his cigarette. Polly listened as he tried to hold back his anger and hurt. “Probably ran off to London by now.”

“If she was working for the Templars and they found out about this relationship, they surely would hunt her down,” Polly said calmly as she poured them a drink.

“What?” Thomas looked hurt for a moment as fear rose inside him. While the Templars worked in secret he knew their practices.

“She came over here, said her goodbyes, and apologized…she begged for forgiveness.”

“Where is she?”

“In Templar custody,” Polly said, finally looking at him. “They are most likely going to torture and assault her.”

“No…” He shot up and ran out as he pulled up his good, ready to strike. The final piece to the puzzle was the rook, after all.

***

You were pulled out into the middle of an alley, your eyes already black and your face bruised slightly. The group threw you against the ground as they ripped the ring off your finger.

“Maybe we should purify you with our own seed…” one man said as he approached, already touching your skirt. You gasped before screaming and kicking as he tried to grab at you. You fought against more and more men before hearing the click of a gun.

“Fine…best hope you aren’t going to hell. The rook can’t save you now,” one said as they aimed it at the back of your head. You sobbed against the dirt as they fell to the ground, your once beautiful dress ruined, as you heard the gargle of blood in their throats. You curled up and waited for the painful death he would give you.

“Get up,” a voice behind you said, yet you wailed as you heard the footsteps come closer. Thomas had made his decision.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you pleaded as you sat up, looking behind you as Thomas stood. His eyes only being obscured by the hood covering his face. You stood to your feet and stumbled as you raised your hands.

“Turn around.” his voice was emotionless, hollow as you did what he said.

“Tommy, I’m sorry, please just-“

“You’re going to leave…and never come back here.” There was a tremor in his voice, making you look back at him.

“Thomas, I-“

“The templars will see you as a traitor, and even then, coppers will see you as a criminal,” he sighed and pulled his hood down, “and the assassins will too…both of them will try and kill you.”

“Tommy, please, I can’t leave!” You cry at him and hold his face, a small blood splatter on his cheek. The man whose eyes were once loving were now empty. “I can’t leave.” You rest your forehead against his and wait.

“You will do as I-“

“I’m pregnant…I’m pregnant,” you sobbed again and nearly fell to your knees, his arms holding you and mouth gaping out of shock.

“What?” he stumbled back with you as he tried to understand. You only sobbed and held onto him. “Did they-”

“No…I wouldn't let them,” you said softly as you hugged him, the moon shining down on you both. “I never wanted to hurt you…I never wanted to be with the Templars.”

“They will see you as a whore…I can't stop that it what they might do to you.” The softness in his voice made you shiver; it wasn't like him.

“I'm not leaving. The child needs a father,” you say, rubbing a thumb along his cheekbones.

“We’ll figure it out…we have to,” he said gently as he held you, the softness of his voice evident as he looked into the night sky.

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

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vampiresinforks · 7 months

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making gifs - where to start

first up - source material and software downloads:

I recently got new versions of the twilight saga movies from Pahe, I went for the Bluray 2160p or 1080p whenever I could.

Use KMPlayer 64x to play and cap the movies.

You can get software like Photoshop from the various guides and websites suggested in this beautiful subreddit. This website is probably most user friendly.

1. how to make gifs?

This video tutorial is your most basic, bare-bone starting point. Grab a video you like, download KM player and get started.

2. adding a coloring

A coloring is what you add to your gifs to either color-correct them and make them look normal (looking at you - twilight blue tint) or to change the color palette for personal taste/visual effects.

Colorings usually come in the form of PSDs, as a pack of adjustment layers that has been saved in .psd format and uploaded for other people to download and use. Seldom, they come in the form of ACTIONs, as pre-recorded steps which will replicate on your project once you open the action in your Photoshop and activate it by hitting the "play" button.

Basic gif and coloring skills are all you need for your first gifs.

3. sharpening

Once you know your way around photoshop you can try your hand at sharpening. This is a tutorial on how to sharpen all layers at once "by hand". And some more advanced sharpening methods.

Nowadays, most people just record their usual sharpening steps and save them as actions. Or they use other people's actions. Here is a tutorial on how to use a sharpening action you've downloaded.

Here are a few more sharpening action sets you can use: x - x

4. adding text to gifs

This is my giffing arch nemesis so I'll just drop this tutorial here with zero explanation, y'all enjoy.

5. having fun with colors

This isn't something I do often so again, I'm just dropping this tutorial here with no explanation. But tldr gradient fill in combination with the right layer blending mode is your best friend whenever you want to add gradients, colors, colorful text, color changing text, aka all the fun stuff.

6. having fun with shapes

Now this is my bestie because where I struggle with colors and text I find messing with shapes comparatively easy. You can come across "gif templates" on tumblr fairly easily or make up your own shapes if you feel like it. Just make sure to keep it at a width of 540px total (each space between each gif should be 4px) and a height of I believe 750px total (but don't quote me on that last number).

This is a basic tutorial on how to plop two gifs into one canvas. The most important thing here is that you make sure that the number of frames or the lenght of the smart object is the same. Other than that you can go wild with this.

7. gif saving settings

@anue here on tumblr had THE BEST explanation for the different gif saving settings but went private and I'll legit never stop mourning that 💔

here are some other tutorials that attempt to explain the saving settings: one - two - three - four

most people roll with these settings but you're always welcome to adjust them for different gif sets and source videos. not every source video will like the same save settings (anime vs. disney vs. marvel action movie vs. snail documentary).

#tumblr #gif #gifs #gif tutorial #gif tutorials #*#I hope whoever comes across this finds it useful #tutorial

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runfreebirdrun · 7 months

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got any funny weed stories?

Rissa, all I am is funny weed stories.

Let me give you the classic, though, the most well-known: the Build-A-Bear story.

My buddy's dad used to make these insane pot brownies that my buddy calls "sotweeds." Normally, to make pot brownies, you put some pot in the butter and mix a little of that with normal butter, bake, enjoy. His dad, being a middle-aged gnomish sort of man with a goatee, had insane tolerance: sotweeds were *100%* pot butter. They were cut into strange little asymmetrical pieces rather than squares for no good reason. His dad would make like 50 of these at a time and store them in his freezer.

So, once, when we were younger and not-too-much dumber, my buddy stole a bunch of the chunks and we took (too many) gleefully outside an aquarium. The fun thing about the Cubist approach his dad took to cutting the signature brownies meant that the THC content of whatever chunk you just took was between you and God. Any given chunk could be either mostly chocolate chip, or the type of shit to make you see the hat man. This time, we rolled the dice and got snake eyes.

The aquarium was great. The shark tunnel was beautiful, and I made eye contact with a sea bass. An anemone hugged my fingers in the petting pool and I felt connected to the world in a new sense. And then, I pulled the fire alarm in the elevator.

It was an accident — I just leaned on the side of the elevator for a second, but as it turned out, that's how you press the alarm button. My friends and I made frightened eye contact and decided instantly: we had to flee the scene. We were wanted criminals, now, and nothing would ever be the same.

So we hike our asses out through the gift shop and in the bright light of the afternoon we stand looking down the steep staircase from the aquarium and right then, the edible hits.

We'd spent an hour and a half in the aquarium. The average pot brownie hits about forty minutes in, and lasts for a couple of hours. My last un-fried brain cells did the math: if it was still hitting *now,* we were only going to get higher.

Have you ever played a multiplayer video game on a really, really, poor connection, Rissa? I was rubber-banding. My ping was low. As I walked carefully down these stairs, I could feel the frames drop.

We descend into the nightmarish tourist trap neighborhood around the aquarium, and the least high of us goes and buys some too-salty fries to take the edge off. I sit on a bench and wonder: will I ever think again?

The only way out is through. My buddy suggests that we need some child-like whimsy to set us right. We go to Build-A-Bear, for the first time in my life.

You have to understand: I'm clutching my debit card in my hands the whole time because I don't trust myself to operate a zipper when we get to the cash register. At one point, I think I actually teleported across the room. I can see through walls. I can see new colors.

The heart ceremony? I felt that shit. You try being that high and told by an over-enthusiastic Build-A-Bear employee that you're sewing the soul into this animal you've adopted. I reveled in the joy of divine creation.

We get to the bit where you name your Build-A-Bear, and I decide the funniest possible name for this stuffed dinosaur is, all caps, "SPECIES." My weed-addled fingers typo, and I decide not to fix it. We get to the register, and I am not kidding you: 137 fiscal US dollars.

I teleport home by a method unknown to me to this day. I pass out instantly, and wake up, $137 poorer, to a red dinosaur Build-A-Bear wearing a promotional "I <3 Crabs" shirt, a full brown wig for a woman, and a Build-A-Bear birth certificate. Name: SPRCIES.

Her birthday's coming up.

#weed #tw drugs #this is the most i've ever typed

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rebellionmoon · 1 year

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💚 ILLUMI HEADCANONS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY 💚

idk but i just love imagining random facts about illumi, that don't really add to his character, but kindof do too? Maybe it's because there isn't much screen time of illumi in the anime that my brain needs to fill all that empty space of longing in my heart of what could have been.

SO HERE ARE RANDOM ILLUMI (HEADCANON) FACTS THAT SERVE NOTHING:

He drinks beer and uses his teeth to open the bottles. He used to have a collection of bottlecaps, but then he gave them to Killua. So whenever Illumi opened a bottle, the cap would hence force go to Killua. Now the jar of bottlecaps is somewhere in Killua's room collecting dust.

After finishing an assassintion, he likes to get fastfood. Something quick and indulgent, like it's a cheat day. If he was on a job with his brothers then they'd hit a bodega afterwards. Sometimes he would bring food back to Milluki too.

He can hold a burger in one hand and tear through a ketchup packet with his teeth. He dips his food so much, he rarely eats anything without sauce.

Like Silva, Illumi has had a few pets in his life. One of them being a bear. He named it Pikelet. (I'll explore this one more in my fic!)

Although murder is his trade, that shouldn't hinder his other passions, including wild life conservation! This boy grew up in the mountains, albiet privately owned. You can't convince me he isn't a goblin child at heart.

He always thought he deserved to have fangs.

When he sees a walking stick lying on the ground, he has the urge to pick it up and wield it like a sword.

When he was eight he read all the narnia books. Peter was his comfort character, but he wanted to be Prince Caspian. To this day, if you ask him why he likes Narnia, he will give you a disseration and explain why Lucy is the strongest of all the penvensie siblings. He has never had turkish delight, but believes he would betray his siblings for them, they just look so good!

He could grow antlers out of pure will power. No, literally, he can. He can and will show you. "I'm a crytid. Look at my antlers."

He's still a Goosebumps kid at heart. When autumn rolls around, he he lays in bed and watches his favorite spooky shows (scooby doo, goosebumps, are you afraid of the dark?, tales from the crypt)

When he was little, he used to play in the forest by himself ALOT. One time, he crawled into a log, but the log was at the top of a hill and it began to roll down with him in it and then it rolled into a pond. He was able to escape, but he almost drowned and never told anyone what happened. He was a little mortified to tell anyone because he almost died doing something stupid. He'll tell you he has done alot of stupid things in the woods, but won't divulge more than that.

He's actually kind of good at acting and loves watching movies. This is part of why he is so good at diguises, he studies the actors in movies lol Sometimes he repeats lines from movies randomly in the house. Out of nowhere, he shouts 'BILBOOOO BAGGINSSSS' in a gandolf like voice. It's okay, just accept it.

Illumi has rehabilitated many opossums in his life.

He owns an animal rescue ranch, under a different identity of one of his disguises, that rebahilibates injured animals and prepares to release them back to the wild. His current disguise is an old man, but Illumi plans to 'die' and come back as his son/heir. Yes, he has worked out an entire line of succession for a rescue ranch. Did he have to do this? No, but he did anyway.

Once Illumi officiated the wedding between a frog named Freddie Lime to another frog named Emily Spinach. Oh, he was also high, but the wedding was beautiful, and Milluki fished him out of the pond afterwards.

There's a deer in Kukuroo Mountain that is fond of Illumi. If it sees him, it will run up to him. Illumi doesn't know what the forest calls the deer, but he calls it Thimble. He gives Thimble treats, and Thimple lets Illumi pet him, the arrangement has worked out very well so far.

Kukuroo Mountain is self sustainable, and alot of the food they cook they grow themselves. There's also a farm, with cows. Illumi would just be chilling on a hamick and then suddenly killua runs past him, and then so does a cow. Illumi goes back to napping, this isn't his mess to clean up.

"Concept: I will continue to bottle up all my emotions until I snap."

Moss.

Here were some facts! I have more stuff, but those are spoilers for my fanfic (where shadows touch), My obsession might be unhealthy but it's delicious and i love it so I'm not gonna stop.

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loquaciousquark · 11 months

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4-Sided Dive Highlights - Critical Role C3 up to E58 (May. 17, 2023)

Rolling right into the next one, tonight’s guests are Aabria, Christian, Sam, and Travis. We open with Christian wearing sunglasses inside due to one eye being very light sensitive. Travis wins host and hulas his way into a monologue about an increasingly frantic recap of the recent plot, capping off with a ventriloquism segment and a French puppet wolf. It's...not...good, haha.

What the Fuck is Up with That? Sam reveals he verbally bleeps curse words when his kids watch the show, ha. Sam absolutely loves having the guests and mixing up the company. Sam to Aabria: "How do I know you?" Aabria: "What?" It turns out he means how did they meet? Aabria did a D20 game with Matt and Marisha (Pirates of Leviathan). Christian slid into Sam's DMs on Instagram, ahahahaha, and asked him for coffee with Marisha. Incredible! He just felt that Christian had a good heart! Sam, what in the world!

Aww, Christian is still such a fan of the show! (The way he's talking right now is very much like Jeremy Dooley from AH right after he first got hired.) He & Aabria got together for a Session Zero at Matt's place and feel like brother/sister now. They built the characters together. FRIDA came first & Aabria wanted to explore some holes in the world and was able to match elements around FRIDA's build. Plus they didn't know which members of the regular cast they'd be with. As Aabria developed the character Matt instantly decided she'd be paired with Travis. Christian knew FRIDA's color palette before anything else, ha! He knew he wanted to build a complementary character for Sam because he's grateful to the opportunities Sam had given him.

FRIDA has the level of rogue because they'd wandered around for a while on their own, and the cleric levels from Deanna's influence.

Aabria was determined to be a nice generous cleric to counteract any expectations of hard-ass-ness from Laerryn, ha! She picked the Dawnfather because he's one of the most hardline Prime Deities; she's a full cleric with off vibes. She wanted a contrast to FCG, who's in the position of a supplicant; she wanted someone more under the thumb of a deity in order to bring more facets of those relationships. Travis: "A perpetual IOU."

Deanna was one of the names from Chetney's vision; she was fully a Matt invention. Aabria loved the idea of being a past relationship and sent notes to Matt; then the day before they started filming Travis sent more notes to Matt saying she was a fling. "Damn it, I got downgraded to a fling before I even walked in!" Travis had to firm out Chet's backstory as they got to Uthodurn.

Sam really wanted to see Travis kill Santa, but Matt made Oltgar too regretful. Travis loves taking the dark routes in video games when available, but "with Mercer there's so much heart. I feel bad."

They had probably more god advancement in the last seven episodes than the entire campaign. I'm realizing this is about where I am in my show watch, which is why it all feels so current to me! Everyone loved the Changebringer stuff, except Travis could do without the Ring girl hair.

Ludinus was behind it from the start?! What the hell does the leather armor do? He caused the corruption of the Savalirwood 500 years ago, which means he's been planning this for a long time. He tried to kill them with Molaesmyr and corrupted the land, founded the Cerberus Assembly; he's constantly reaching back for the glory of the Age of Arcanum. Everyone hated the freaky animals.

The Rexxentrum Toy Authority was a beautiful moment! Sam: "Why would you come up with a three-letter moniker that was actually standing for something else??"

Sam is very grateful for this arc because it gave a lot of meat to his character. He feels that he's been asking so many questions: who am I, what are dreams, am I alive, who are the gods, I want answers. Now he has a connection with his god, a connection with FRIDA--it doesn't really matter what his original design to kill was for because he has such a bright path forward.

Deanna was built to complement many characters, and Aabria leaned into certain facets for this party over others. "The dying and come back was very built in for Laudna and Ashton and Orym especially" because she spent a lot of her life constantly bringing her husband back from 0 hp. She liked playing with the weird, unresolved feelings of knowing that the dead person isn't gone, just static and waiting. The husband is still alive but is super old???? Ha! "Dustyl" is his name.

Everyone's enjoyed exploring the haunted areas of Exandria. Travis describes several locations on the maps in detail from memory and everyone ribs him a little; it's really cute! Everything was a little wrong in the Savalirwood.

Sam thinks Fearne should have the staff. Fearne having teleportation would be incredible. FCG's coin has a once-a-day power that can cause distractions, ask the Changebringer a question, or get a luck point (which everyone's sure he'll use right away).

The last two interactions with the gods were fascinating because they weren't requests for help, they were demands. Deanna thought she'd died for a second at the end.

Aabria went pure life cleric specifically because she wanted to lean into the drama of resurrection magic being off the table. "Someone's dead? Oh, I'm great at this! Oh...wait..."

Jerry stole the show. Everyone agrees the goats are giant food.

Travis is sad they didn't fight the pterodactyl thing. FRIDA is intentionally built like a tank & has had Death Ward most of the time, so they intentionally drew aggro.

Travis intentionally pulled Chet away from the group when the moon started changing him specifically to avoid endangering the guests, and then Christian went after him! I have spelled "intentionally" wrong as "intentially" every single time. Christian knew it wasn't a "smart" play but thought it would be fun to interact with Chet, and that'll trump optimization every time for him.

The Tower of Inquiry! Favorite encounter so far? Travis: the Ludinus showdown. Sam: Laudna going down and not knowing how to Revivify. (Aabria asked if she could play Otohan and Matt was like, what? No!) Christian: the heist race where Ashton got the bust! Aabria: the same fight as Sam.

How does it feel being part of a larger group? Sam: FCG's entire first group died, so this new group is a lot of pressure. FCG's been one event away from berserkness multiple times. Every time they long rest, Sam can roll a d4 to reduce stress points, but he's self-imposed a rule that he doesn't do so on non-active days.

Sam literally leans over to Travis about his old age rules. Travis has to roll a 100 on the dice (three 0s) in order for Chet to drop dead. He's not concerned at all that it'll happen; Sam is hilariously concerned.

The Deep Dive, sooner than usual! Sam absolutely loved the interaction with the bull. He's delighted "the power of friendship" mattered.

Travis has been sitting on the RTC reveal for a while. He sat down a while back and really mapped out a lot of Chet's backstory and where he traveled, and again pulls out tons of map details like the Wuyun Gorge. The one place he hasn't been yet is Issylra.

FRIDA is a little nervous about turning into a werewolf; being around the group made them more comfortable, but the reveal of killing all those people is concerning. FRIDA also felt they were able to see Chet inside the beast during that fight & loves the idea of being unadulterated & free. Christian texted Matt & asked what it all meant that night, and just got in return, "ahahahahahahahaha". Ha!

Aabria is fascinated that developing these relationships with Bell's Hells has changed the previously friendly ease Deanna had with FRIDA. It's not quite a strain, but it is a reevaluation which is not settled; it's painful. FRIDAY had a strong opinion on the absence of pain and the absence of sadness; he hadn't appreciated how important current relationships were before FCG. Sam: "We have so much in common. We're both metal. We're both murderers."

Sam butchers the FRIDA acronym, which Aabria of course nails. Far-Ranging Integrated Defense Aeormaton. FCG is scared about the Changebringer's lack of clarity, and fears for the future. Travis suggests that if FRIDA dies, FCG should incorporate their body parts. Christian: I'd give you FRIDA's legs.

Everyone laughs at the size differences/similarities in their partners. Dani's (female) SO and she share clothes. Sam shrinks things in the dryer and gives them to Quyen. Alissa is taller than Christian so she can't wear his clothes; same for Aabria and her husband. Travis rolling over in bed is a literal health hazard for Laura, ha!

It took Travis forever to realize Deanna was his Deanna; Aabria even pointed to her name & he didn't get it. When it did click, the panic was real; he had acid reflux and realized she knew the backstory and he didn't! He didn't know if he should be angry or happy or neutral to see her; he had to wait until he had more context clues.

The romance for FCG and FRIDA was organic in nature. Originally they'd thought Deanna & FRIDA might have something, but it didn't pan out. Sam did text Christian to make sure they could lean in after.

Aabria loved getting to play with a character she helped develop in ExU (Fearne).

Tower of Inquiry, Redux: character's favorite board games? Chet: Chutes & Ladders. Deanna: Pandemic. FRIDA: Risk. FCG: Operation.

Post-Break Shenanigans: Super Smash Brothers! Sam: Dark Samus. Travis: Wolf. Aabria: Kirby. Christian: ROB.

Travis thought Oltgar was going to be more of a shit, but he's 100% okay tracking Drixlich instead.

Deanna is concerned after the conversation with the Dawnfather because while it's on brand, she fears losing her powers/life. She'd rather pay it forward first.

Sam wins round one! Huh! Round two: Sam: random (Falco), Travis: Ganondorf, Aabria: Ganondorf, Christian: ROB again.

FCG is weirdly comforted to have direction from the Changebringer; Sam likes her vibe. He was little freaked out by how demanding she was at the end but looks forward to exploring that relationship.

Christian wonders if FRIDA belonged to Ludinus. All he gave Matt was the dream of the child's legs. Time runs out on the second round and Christian takes it by percentage!

Round three: everyone picks random. Sam: Diddy Kong, Travis: Terry, Aabria: Kirby, Christian: Bayonetta.

How does Chet feel about the gods? It's only a matter of time before Chetney takes the gods' place.

FRIDA was very freaked out by fighting Aeormatons, but Chet's gift especially helped a lot.

Deanna feels that while the gods aren't a nascent part of the world, if it weren't them, it'd be someone else. Sam found it hard to play a religious character because his instinct is to be subversive.

Sam asked Matt if FCG had his initials carved on him somewhere after FRIDA revealed theirs. Matt said, "you don't know," then let Sam throw out a handful of suggestions for what the acronym stood for. He didn't know which until the moment, though. The entire conversation was inspired by Christian's play; "Christian did a cool thing and I wanted to steal it."

Christian's best friend Jack was helping him with acronyms; Christian had come up with "FRIDA" and Jack defined it in about thirty seconds, haha. Backronyms!

Travis loved the first Catha transformation. Now he has to decide who to transform into a werewolf. Everyone loves "Bells Heals" as a minigroup name, and "LoveLetters" and "Body Count" for the FRIDA/FCG ship.

Aabria found the two relationships with Deanna/Laerryn very different; with Sam she planned it out, and with Travis she knew she was surprising him. She is fully embracing the "we've already banged" dynamic for all her characters now.

The post-credits scene is a cutout of Sam spinning into the abyss.

That's that! One more 4SD is out right now (came out yesterday), but I'm going to catch up on the show first!

#4 sided dive #4 sided dive spoilers #critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #long post for ts

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dawn-petrichor-world · 1 year

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Till the end of time

Summary: Now he understands why every first day after the full moon, you disappear and always come back covered with dirt from hair to toe and some scratches and bruises.

Warning: +600 words of fluff not proofread.

A/N: I am an utopian/dreamer person. You will probably don't like it because it doesn't fit the universe and I'm aware about it but I literally visual the scene in my head while I was listening to 'Concerning Hobbits' from "Howard Shore", things that should have unblocked my imagination for my first Tolkien fic ideas because this one you will read (I hope, it's the third fics idea). I'm sorry @heilith

And yes, you can consider it as a cliché. Enjoy.

Spring, ô spring. The most beautiful and powerful season of the year with the perfume of fresh flowers that blossom and some animals get out of winter sleep.

This day is fully exciting with a lot of happy screams and laughter at the edge of the Shire.

Holding your dress too long that was lying around the floor, to ease when you run after some youngster or to run away from them with a huge smile on your face.

Once the meal's ready, hands in the air, all of you decide to roll down the hill to go to eat but it's a wrong idea. The elder who is not impressed with your status or who you are, scolds you because you should not present yourself in that condition.

Feet in the river looking at fishes swimming between them, you’re trying to clean the hands and faces of your friends. When it’s your turn, unfortunately, they are throwing water at you but stop when the elder yells at you. All getting out of the river soaking like wet animals, she’s now upset and orders you to sit under a tree. She’s watching you and not afraid to throw things if one of you doesn’t stay calm as she requires.

Winter ended a couple of weeks ago, the weather is still a little bit cold, and eating under the shadow of leaves is perfect to be sick if the clothes are damp. No choice but to move everything under the sky with no clouds to bother you.

What a fool's idea if all of you want to end up red like a tomato or pink like shrimp.

Laying on the grass when the sun is less powerful, the elder is mumbling and applying on your skin exposed and your face a concoction she made after lunch to soothe the burn.

All night, around a fire camp you share some stories about a hobbit, thirteen dwarves, a human, some elves, and a wizard who fought against a dragon and plenty of orcs.

The elder joins you and hums some songs that make you fall like flies one by one.

At the dawn, time to say goodbye but nothing is more painful than hugs, some cry because the previous day was short and it's tiresome to wait until the next full moon. You have to remind them the relationship between elves, dwarves, humans, and hobbits is not perfect like yours. Only spreading the best part of each species and time will create the best future for all.

In the middle of the way home, you find more than three guards where you left them, forming a shield to protect a tall blonde man who wears a cloak which the face is hidden under a big cap, once reveals you recognize the Elvenking Thranduil who followed you.

- “My king!” You immediately kneel but he lifts your chin and lends a hand to help you to stand on your feet.

- “Meldis! Why you never told me about your adventures with all your friends.” He asks.

- “My king doesn’t need to worry, I always choose the best guard to escort me. And I spend with them childish activities, no need to bother you with that.”

- “Everything you did, do, or will do cannot bother me. And following you and discovering what you do every full moon is one of the many reasons I want to spend my life by your side.”

He helps you to climb the back of the deer and wants to know how you fried under the sun even though he watched everything but doesn’t exactly what happened the day and night with them. You enjoy all the rides back to talk about them and what you did with them.

Thanks for reading it. Hope you like it. My Masterlists

#Tolkien #J.R.R Tolkien #Hobbits #Elves #Dwarves #Humans #Thranduil

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paigesprocessblog · 1 year

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Week 11, November 15

This week I honestly was so beyond burnt out! I had two bio exams this week, one of which I most definitely failed, and I haven't slept more than 4 hours or eaten an actual meal in like two weeks (don't report me to caps I'm like managing lol). This is becoming my ranting space each week so I apologize. Anyways, I was excited about where my creative research was going last week, and I wanted to explore more character designs so that's where I started. This is based off of a stuffed animal that Arianna has and I am obsessed with him so this is what I made...

Creative Research

I'm like obsessed with this little guy, and I love him so much. I am really enjoying making these characters and brainstorming how they would look in my graphic novel/children's book for adults situation. I'm not sure which character I like more; one from last week or this week. Next week, I am going to build off of one of the characters and develop it more.

Scholarly Research

For scholarly research this week, I wanted to research how to do character design because I've never actually done this lol. I wanted to learn how to know what features to maximize/minimize in order for expressions to be easily readable and visible without the character being too busy.

27 Top Character Design Tips by Rosie Hilder

This article is packed full of information (27 tips) for character design, and I feel like this is super helpful for me and really cleared some things up. Some of the major things I have taken away include the following

"Exaggerating the defining features of your character design will help it appear larger than life. Exaggerated features will also help viewers to identify the character's key qualities. Exaggeration is key in cartoon caricatures and helps emphasize certain personality traits. If your character is strong, don't just give it normal-sized bulging arms, soup them up so that they're five times as big as they should be."

"Think about your audience. Character designs aimed at young children, for example, are typically designed around basic shapes and bright colours. If you're working for a client, the character's target audience is usually predetermined, as Aussie artist Nathan Jurevicius(opens in new tab) explains."

"When embarking on a new character design, Haymoz likes to start by finding the individual's posture. This element can start the ball rolling on the whole feel of the personality. "I try to capture the stance of the character. Are they hunched over, or are they sitting straight and proud?" She also notes the face is important to get right."

These all will be super helpful tips as I continue to progress my character design and I will definitely continue to refer back to this article.

What is Character Design — Tips on Creating Iconic Characters. by Kyle Deguzman

This article covers what character design is and what it consists of, and the purpose of character design. It covers silhouette, exaggeration, and palette, and then it talks about the character design process and how to go about creating an original character. This article is super helpful and I will definitely be referencing back to it, it includes videos that explain everything as well which is super nice because I'm tired of reading :)

Gary Baseman

I love this man.

Gary Baseman is the effing creator of Cranium. He is an LA-based creator who "explores the 'beauty of the bittersweetness of life' through painting, performance, film, and fashion". I am in love with his illustrations and creations- I feel like his characters are so expressive, yet simple at the same time. There is the perfect balance of chaos and simplicity. I'm thinking I'm going to reach out to him and try to set up a zoom call or a phone call to see if I can talk to him about his inspiration and design process.

works cited

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postwarlevi · 2 years

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Self Ship tag game!! Hope you guys wanna do this :) Also I want to do this haha

Your anime self ship person: Levi

Your ship name: Leviza (lmao just came up with that)

What do you call each other: Levi likes my name best, love if he's feeling cuddly, angel when he's reminding me how much I mean to him, brat if I'm annoying him. I use his name out in public, call him sweetheart when by ourselves, captain to mess with him, handsome if he's feeling down on himself.

Who confessed first: Levi did, totally by accident. It started with a simple "I like you" one day when we were hanging out together, and with stuttering and blushing cheeks he tried to revise it when he thought maybe I didn't feel the same. Turned into "I think you're beautiful. What I mean is...!" So I helped him out and told him his blush is the cutest thing I've ever seen, and he stood there stunned going "what's that mean?" **rolls eyes** "I like you too, Cap!" Have to spell it out for him!

Who kissed who: I did. Took a couple weeks. We were literally talking about it and he said he's never really been sure when physical affection is okay, and said I'd have to help him, when it was okay with me, of course. So I showed him that it was more than okay. He liked that.

How long you have been together: 3 years now. Friends first for a time before, got to know each other and 'dated' for a couple months before he brought up making it official. He's always nervous about doing things too early. Sometimes it drives me mad but I want him to be okay initiating things.

Are you affectionate: Hand holding in public is usually it. By ourselves this man is the biggest cuddle bug, don't let him fool you. Literally will whine if I get up to be productive, and then dare turn me down if I seek him out when he's busy. But he really likes kisses, so guess who always wins :) Lazy mornings in bed and couch cuddles are our favs.

Living together/married: Living together almost a year. Thrown out ideas of marriage, like what we would want or where we'd honeymoon. It's fun to talk about. Sometimes if I stay up late with him he'll actually sneak in a random question like "what kind of flowers would you like?" He might be saving my answers. Starting to wonder if he should plan a proposal or just up and ask :)

Kids: Right now we are cat parents. Aren't opposed to kids. Adoption is something we both think about, but can't figure out how to bring up to each other yet. But it's close to both of our hearts considering how Levi grew up.

What your friend group looks like: Levi introduced me to Miche, Hange and Erwin. Jean, Connie and Sasha are my main crew, even if they knew Levi first.

How you each get along with your friends: I get along with his friends great, and they are now my friends. We all have game nights together and Levi rolls his eyes when we come up with stupid answers and laugh sometimes, but we catch him smiling too. I call Hange just to talk sometimes. Levi...tolerates my friends. He doesn't mind Jean by himself since he can act mature, but add Connie and Sasha to the mix and he's out. At least, tries to be! But if one of us is feeling down we're usually at our house for late night snacks and movies. Levi can't avoid it.

Night in or night out: We like staying in way more. Either ordering takeout or helping each other in the kitchen. A quiet evening in, in comfy clothes please.

Your favorite date day/night: My cheesy answer is anytime we're together is my favorite, even just grocery shopping :D Though once in a while we dress up fancy and take in a theater show. Turns out we really like musicals! Who knew?? Also, mystery dinners! You know, where you have to find out who killed who while you eat and the actors put on a show around you. There's not much interaction involved on our part, so Levi doesn't mind, and he's really good at solving the clues and guessing correctly!

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You all probably already know my answers lmao

Friendship questions inspired by this haha

Here's a Jean version too!

Here's a copy and paste version

Your anime self ship person:

Your ship name:

What do you call each other:

Who confessed first:

Who kissed who:

How long you have been together:

Are you affectionate:

Living together/married:

Kids:

What your friend group looks like:

How you each get along with your friends:

Night in or night out:

Your favorite date day/night:

There's so many questions to ask! We can do another round if you want another time :) 10 to 12 questions good? Weekly maybe?

Tagging: @jayteacups @hauntedhousecat @ack3rlady @nelapanela94 @levisbrat25 @holy-guacamoly @levi-supreme @little-spoiled-brat @sckerman @hashaneeee @starryenigma @charlotteplsdosth @levis-hazelnut @lucysarah-c @local-ackerman-whore @wetforlevi

You are under no obligation to participate. But if you do I'm tagging you in the next one haha Even if I didn't tag you, go for it! Just picking ones I thought might want to do it :)

#tag game #tag games #tag.game #self ship #eliza interacts #eliza tag game #who wants to do this #lets make it weekly #or something #i'm gonna run out of questions #anime ships #anime husband #levi ackerman #attack on titan #aot #levi #domestic fluff #fluff for the win

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helloalycia · 3 years

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teenage dirtbag [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: when you're paired with the most popular girl in your grade for Chemistry class, you definitely don't expect to start liking her like that...

warning/s: none i don't think??

author's note: okay so i have a ton of requests to work through but i got sidetracked and before i knew it, five parts of this imagine were written.

It's based off the song 'Teenage Dirtbag' and idk, i thought it was cute to write! Who doesn't love the popular girl!wanda and loner!reader concept?

Here’s a cover of the song to listen to because i really liked it and a girl sings it so it immediately made the song 10x more gay, just how i like it 🥰

"Are you all comfortable?"

The class stayed silent, watching our Chemistry teacher, Mr. Hale, as he looked to everyone with a raised brow.

"You all like who you're sat with?" he asked again, as if expecting an actual response from someone.

I exchanged questioning glances with my best friend, Y/BF/N, who was sat beside me. It was the first day back in Chemistry class of our final year of high school and we were just waiting to begin.

"Anyone?" he asked, looking around.

"Yeah," a few students mumbled in response so we could move on.

He clapped his hands together. "Great! Well, don't get too comfortable because I made a seating chart."

A chorus of groans erupted from the class, including from me and Y/BF/N. Every other class had successfully managed to not give us a seating chart. I'd heard that Mr. Hale was an awkward teacher who hated students (ironically), but I didn't think he'd stoop so low as to pair us with students who weren't our friends. These new seats were also our partners for the rest of the year and were non-negotiable, so any projects or work we did would have to be with our seat buddy. Fun.

Students began to shuffle to their newly-assigned seats reluctantly as Mr. Hale read out the chart. When Y/BF/N left my side, I frowned dramatically, waving goodbye to him.

"Wanda Maximoff, you're now partners with Y/N Y/L/N," said Mr. Hale, making me look up at the mention of my name.

I didn't get chance to register what he'd said as the aforementioned girl soon approached me, settling her bag on the table beside me. I looked up and saw Wanda Maximoff smiling my way before taking a seat on the stool.

Huh. Wanda Maximoff. She was one of the most popular girls in our grade. Everybody loved her, either wanting to be friends with her, be with her or be her. I'd personally never crossed paths with her apart from the few classes we shared. She seemed nice enough, but I guess I had preconceived notions of what she was like since she'd made the very poor decision to date the most obnoxious guy ever. Anyone making decisions that terrible definitely had a flaw.

She had a twin brother, Pietro, who was also in our grade and played on the football team alongside her boyfriend. Her parents were good friends with mine, through mutual friends, I think, as I recalled my mum mentioning 'Mrs. Maximoff's boy' or 'Mrs. Maximoff's girl'. And I remembered when her family moved into our town back in second grade.

Admittedly, Wanda was the star of the show back then, too. We were only kids, but child Y/N wasn't blind. She was the first girl I'd crushed on, an innocent child crush – the crush that made me realise I liked girls. Apart from that, and the fact that she had a locker behind me in the hallway, I never really thought about her.

I glanced behind me, catching Y/BF/N's gaze across the room as he sat beside some other kid. He frowned, implying he wished we were partners, and I knew just how he felt.

Once Mr. Hale finished assigning seats, he gave us five minutes to get to know our new partners as he struggled to find the powerpoint for today's class. If there was anything worse than getting assigned seats, it was ice breakers.

"Er, well, hi," Wanda greeted, turning to face me. Green eyes sparkled brightly behind a friendly smile. "I'm Wanda. But, I mean, we already know each other."

"That we do," I said with a nod, returning her smile. "How're you doing? Your summer go well?"

She ran a hand through her hair, adjusting herself so she was comfortable on her stool. And as she did, a waft of her perfume washed over me and I blinked, trying to ignore how nice it smelled. Floral. Subtle. It suited her.

"Good, yeah," she answered with a nod. "Could have gone on longer for all I care."

I chuckled. "I feel that. I'm definitely not ready to be back."

"Right?" she said with raised brows. "It's gonna take a while to get back into routine, that's for sure. But I guess I did miss seeing my friends everyday."

I hummed in agreement, eyes flickering to Mr. Hale as he attempted to tackle the oncoming stream of animations on his powerpoint. I tried not to laugh as I looked back to Wanda, who clearly noticed the same thing as me and stifled a smile.

"Have you had Mr. Hale before?" I asked, nodding his way.

She shook her head. "Nope. You?"

"Never."

"Sucks that he makes seating charts," she said with a sigh, before realising what she said and looking to me with panicked eyes. "Not that I don't like you or anything–!"

"It's fine, I get it," I cut her off with an amused smile. "I wanted to sit with my friend, too."

She breathed out quietly, a hint of relief in her eyes, and scrunched her nose with an apologetic smile. Okay, yeah, maybe that was kind of cute. Older Y/N wasn't blind either. Wanda Maximoff was beautiful, with long brunette locks and matching hazel eyes that seemed to change from blue to green to brown in a kaleidoscope of colour. A winning smile and soothing voice was enough for anyone to fall for her unintentional charm, but it was purely admiration. Everyone pretty much had a mild crush on her, you'd be stupid not to.

"If we're gonna be working together, d'you wanna get the whole awkward number exchange out the way now?" she asked, half joking, half not.

"I– er– sure," I stumbled out rather carelessly, before cringing internally. Where did that come from?

Thankfully, she didn't seem to pick up on it (or just saved me the embarrassment of acknowledging it) and was already writing her number on a slip of paper. Sliding it my way, she capped her pen and gave me her signature smile.

"Thanks," I said with a nod, accepting the paper and pocketing it. "Can't wait to start those lovely science projects we've got coming up!"

She let out a quiet laugh at my sarcasm. "It'll be fine. You're not dumb, right? So, we'll be fine."

"Can't promise you that," I joked, making her roll her eyes playfully.

"Maybe if we–"

But she was cut off when Mr. Hale spoke up loudly, interrupting everyone's conversations.

"Five minutes are up, let's begin!"

I wondered if everyone was thinking the same thing as me – that was not five minutes.

"So it begins...," I mumbled to myself, facing forward.

Wanda breathed out, a stifled laugh, probably having heard my comment, and I couldn't help but crack a smile. Maybe I judged her too harshly. She wasn't actually that bad.

—

Since being paired with Wanda, I was surprised by how much she'd made an effort to befriend me outside of class. We'd always been back to back with our lockers though not quite speaking, but since becoming Chemistry partners, she'd wish me a good morning if she caught me, or greet me briefly as we collected our books.

She didn't have to, but I could see why everybody liked her now. She was just genuinely nice. Due to circumstance, we'd become partners, but rather than leaving it at that, she made a genuine effort to befriend me. And not even just me, but also Y/BF/N, who was at the locker next to mine. He was as surprised as I was, expecting Wanda to mind her own business as we weren't exactly in the same social circles.

This was, I guess you could say, the start of our friendship. And it was a good one at that. I grew to learn how funny she was, how much she loved her brother, the passion she had for art and painting... she was a wonderful person. Which is why I didn't understand why she was with her boyfriend, Nate. He was a grade-A dick and everything Wanda wasn't. How were they a thing?

It sounds like I'm being a bitch and judgemental, but he really is the worst. The few unfortunate times I shared a class with him or caught sight of him around school, he was causing some sort of trouble with the teachers or picking on students in a way that made it seem like a joke but everybody knew it wasn't.

For example, there was a time when Wanda and I were studying for an upcoming Chemistry test we had. We decided to just help each other study since we already worked together in class, so knew we could motivate each other to actually put in the work. It was, maybe, the fourth studying session we had, and I was going over some notes when I felt her eyes watching me.

"You need a hand?" I asked, unable to take the staring any longer. I looked up at her, quirking a brow.

She seemed to fall out of her daydream and straightened up, eyes flickering to mine. "Huh?"

I gave her an awkward smile, unable to maintain her gaze. "You're staring."

She didn't seem fazed as I called her out, instead leaning back in her seat and continuing to study me curiously.

"Did you do something different with your hair?"

Subconsciously reaching for my hair, I straightened up my ponytail and shook my head. "No...?"

She chewed on her lip, saying after a pause, "You tied it up. You usually leave it out."

Did I? I wasn't sure. I just knew that her noticing something like that made me feel self conscious all of a sudden.

"It looks good," she decided, before offering up a small smile. "You should do it like that more often."

Quickly, I felt warm. Was it stuffy in here or was it just me? God, compliments already made me feel stupid. And compliments from pretty girls made me feel ten times that. It didn't help that she was watching me with an endearing expression, making me focus on my book before me.

"Thanks," I got out quickly. "I– yeah."

Her smile widened before she looked back down to her own book. Suddenly, I became acutely aware of the way her leg brushed up against mine under the table.

Thankfully, the strange fuzzy feeling following her compliment faded and we were able to get back to work without her tuning out again. As we were going over each other's practice questions, an annoying voice shouted from across the library.

"Wanda, head's up!"

"Hey, no talking in the library!" a librarian hissed at the voice.

Wanda and I looked up just in time for a football to smack me in the side of the head. I didn't even see it coming until I felt the thing slap my head, giving me an instant urge to strangle whoever threw it.

"Fuck," I cursed, holding my head and closing my eyes to breathe through the pain.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Wanda's voice made me open my eyes and I saw her leaning forward, hand resting on my shoulder and the other on top of mine that was clutching my head.

"Been better," I admitted, trying to make light of the situation because as angry as I was at the idiot who threw it, I was also embarrassed because it hit me.

Wanda seemed concerned as she gently pulled me hand away, not letting go as she got a better look at the side of my face which I was sure was burning red. At least that's what it felt like.

"Shit, I'm so sorry."

I looked up and saw none other than Nate Green, Wanda's boyfriend, hovering and stifling a laugh as he looked at me. He had his stupid varsity jacket on and I was tempted to strangle him with it.

"I thought Wanda would catch it," he explained stupidly, before moving around the desk to collect his football.

Breathing out through gritted teeth, I pulled away from Wanda and nodded reassuringly. "I'll be fine. Just need an ice pack."

"You're such an idiot, Nate!" Wanda snapped, looking to him with a glare. "You need to watch what you're doing!"

He smiled sheepishly, making me roll my eyes and clench my jaw at the heat on the right side of my face. Fuck, that really hurt.

"What did you want?" Wanda asked him with a quirked brow. She definitely wasn't impressed. I'd hate to ever be on the wrong side of that condescending glare.

"I thought we could go out," he said like it was that simple.

"I'm studying," she quipped with crossed arms.

"I'm happy to wait," he said, toying with the ball in his hands.

Knowing I definitely didn't want that, I closed my books and said, "It's cool. You guys go. I think we're done here anyway."

Nate grinned. "See? S'all good."

Wanda ignored him and looked to me with worried eyes. "Y/N, are you sure?"

"You know your stuff," I said, referring to the work. "You'll be fine in the test. I'm sure."

I offered her a small, forced smile, before standing up to pack my bag. She did the same, beginning to pack her own things, but her eyes kept flittering towards me.

"D'you want me to go to the nurse's office with you?" she asked, shame laced in her voice.

"It's fine, I'll be fine," I said, hurrying up with my actions so I could just get out of here whilst I still had (some of) my dignity left. "See you in class tomorrow."

She nodded, sending a guilty smile my way. "See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Without giving either of them a look, I shouldered my backpack and left the library. Just another reminder of why Nate Green was literally the worst person ever.

—

Liking Wanda as more than a friend wasn't something that happened for a while if I'm being honest. I guess I started to enjoy her presence more and more the longer we spent time together.

I'd come to appreciate it whenever she'd say something completely out of the blue that made no sense whatsoever, or whenever she'd laugh at something I'd said that was arguably not funny but she didn't want to make me feel bad, or even whenever I teased her about something stupid she did, resulting in her doing that cute little nose scrunch she did. But I didn't think of it as liking her, more just a randomly-formed friendship that I was glad to have.

Maybe it was this misinterpretation that didn't make me see how I was acting around her, such as the time I was in the dinner queue at lunch when I realised she was stood behind me.

"Oh, hey, Y/N," she said when she noticed it was me in front of her. Her usual bright, friendly smile was on her lips as she looked to me. "You good?"

I nodded, returning her smile. "Yeah. Just getting some doughnuts for Y/BF/N and I. You?"

"Same," she said, before nudging the guy next to her, who I recognised as her brother. "Pietro and I thought we'd treat ourselves."

At the mention of his name, Pietro looked down to his sister before his gaze fell on me. A mischievous smile appeared on his lips as he put out his hand.

"Pietro Maximoff," he introduced. "You must be the Chemistry partner, Y/N, right?"

I raised my eyebrows with surprise as I shook his hand. "You, er, know who I am?"

He glanced at his sister with a cheeky smile. Wanda was avoiding both of our gazes, her cheeks dusting pink.

Clearly saving face for Wanda, he said, "We've been in the same grade since kids, right? 'Course I do."

Despite the truth to his words, something told me that wasn't how he knew who I was. Especially since I was sure I'd never spoken to him in my life. But, to save Wanda the embarrassment of clearly having spoken of me at home, I nodded to Pietro.

"Right," I agreed with an amused smile. "Duh."

I moved down the queue and grabbed two doughnuts from the display, putting them in two separate paper bags.

"Dibs the last one!" Pietro exclaimed as soon as I returned the clippers to the display. He reached around his sister immaturely and bagged the last doughnut.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "You know I can ask for more, right?"

Pietro grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Go on then."

The two were twins, but they couldn't have been more different. I simply revelled in their interaction, finding it adorable.

Wanda did as she said, asking the dinner lady if there were any more doughnuts in the back. Unfortunately for her, those were the last for the day, making Pietro laugh as Wanda pouted.

"Sucks to be you," he teased her, as I paid for mine and Y/BF/N's doughnuts.

"I hate you," she mumbled playfully, but I saw the disappointment in her eyes as he lovingly but annoyingly waved his bag before her eyes.

Without even thinking much of it, I held out one of the bags in my hand. "Here. You can have mine."

Wanda looked to me with surprise. "Are you sure? I can live without a doughnut, if that's what you're thinking."

I chuckled, grabbing her hand and making her take it. "It's okay. I wasn't in the mood anyway."

Plus, you look better when you're smiling and not pouting, I added in my head.

She accepted the bag reluctantly. "I– thanks. At least let me pay for it–"

"It's just a doughnut, Wanda," I teased, before nodding her way. "See you later."

Leaving her and Pietro to it, I headed back to the table Y/BF/N was sat at and took a seat opposite him before giving him his doughnut.

"Sweet," he said, quickly opening the bag before realising I didn't have one. "Where's yours?"

Over his shoulder, I saw Wanda and Pietro taking a seat at their lunch table, doughnuts in hand and a heartwarming smile on Wanda's lips.

"They ran out," I answered Y/BF/N. "Wasn't in the mood anyway. Enjoy."

He shrugged before digging in. I'd like to say I didn't spare glances in Wanda's direction every now and then for the rest of the lunch hour, but I'd be lying if I did.

—

I'm in the art department. You okay to bring it here?

I read over the text Wanda sent me before shooting her an 'okay' and heading to the Art department. I'd grabbed her notebook in class earlier on, only realising as I was studying with Y/BF/N in the library and pulled out an extra one, so I was going to give it her back.

I guess, when you realise you like someone, it comes randomly, suddenly, without warning. Liking someone isn't instant, it's constant and gradual and subconscious. I guess I'd been falling for Wanda for a while, without even realising, but today was the day I acknowledged that fact.

The Art department wasn't somewhere I frequented regularly – give me a paint and brushes and I'd probably present you with a finger painting – but it was definitely worth the visit. Art pieces from current and past students were hung on the walls, a mural of the school was spray painted on another, and sculptures stood around. The whole department brought a smile to anyone's face with its bright colours and open space – I could see why Art students always hung out here, Wanda included.

Speaking of Wanda, I found her in one of the classrooms sat at a stool in front of a series of canvasses. The room had a few other Art students littered around, working on their own pieces during their lunch period, otherwise it was empty.

"Hey," I called, getting her attention as I approached her.

She followed my voice and straightened up with a cheery smile. "Y/N, hey. Thanks for coming. I'm working on my Art project, so I couldn't pull myself away."

I waved my hand dismissively, joining her side. "It's all good, don't worry." My eyes wandered to the series of canvases on easels she was working on and widened. "Holy shit, these are so good."

Three unfinished hyperrealistic portraits of people were before us, one whom I recognised as Pietro. The paintings were so detailed, despite their medium-size, and I couldn't imagine how long they must have taken.

"You think?" she asked, glancing between them. "I think I messed up the nose here." She pointed with the back end of her paintbrush to the nose of Pietro. "It's a bit bent."

I almost laughed as I looked to her with disbelief. "Are you kidding? Wanda, these are amazing. How did you even do this?"

She looked down bashfully, a nervous smile on her lips. "I don't know. It's for a project. I chose to do family portraits." She pointed to each one as she said, "My mum, my dad and my brother."

I was in awe of her talent, jaw dropped with amazement still. I always knew she was an artist, but I'd never actually seen her work. I was starting to wish I'd come here a lot sooner.

"So, you got my notebook?" she asked, pulling me back into reality.

I looked away from the paintings reluctantly before getting her notebook from my bag and holding it out for her. As she accepted it, she must have forgotten she was holding her paintbrush as the tip brushed my wrist, leaving a swipe of red there.

"Oh, my bad," she said with a laugh, before setting her notebook and brush down and grabbing a paper towel from beside her.

Wetting it with water from her bottle, she pressed it to my wrist and swiped the paint away. It was such a mundane action, but the way her fingers gently held my wrist and emanated a warmth only she seemed to carry sent shivers down my spine.

I glanced up at her, letting her do it, and noticed the swipe of paint she had across her cheek, as if she'd touched her face without realising.

Now that I paid attention, I noticed how cute she looked in her Art getup. An old, oversized shirt covered in paint was being worn to cover her clothes, sleeves loosely rolled up to her elbows. Her long hair was tied back into a ponytail, but her baby hairs framed her forehead adorably.

When her hair wasn't in her face, her eyes only seemed more intense, glistening with excitement and happiness. I almost forgot to breathe when they met mine briefly, a hint of embarrassment there from when cleaning me up. She was in her element here and it made sense to me now.

I knew I'd fallen for her.

—

"You don't get it," I was saying to Y/BF/N as we hung about the school gym, waiting for the teacher to start the lesson. "It's bad. I like her. Like, like like her."

Y/BF/N laughed, clapping me on the back with pity. "You're screwed."

I frowned. "I know."

As he stretched for class, he continued, "I mean, I get it, I do. She's super nice. Pretty. And you guys seem to get on."

I chewed on my lower lip worriedly.

He gave me a knowing look. "There's one problem though."

I groaned, running a hand down my face. "I know, I know. She's got that dick of a boyfriend."

He chuckled. "That's one way to put it."

I sighed, crossing my arms with annoyance. Since realising I liked Wanda as a little more than a friend, things weren't going well for me. Whenever we worked together, I'd forget what I was thinking because I was too busy admiring her side profile or getting lost in her eyes. If she spoke about the work, told a joke or was simply speaking her thoughts aloud, I'd focus on every little thing she was saying, knowing I could listen to her speak all day. It was bad, but thankfully I hadn't stumbled over my words or made a total fool of myself in front of her. I was determined to not let it get that far.

My eyes wandered around the gym as Y/BF/N tried to give me advice, but admittedly, his words flew in one ear and out the other when I caught sight of Wanda.

She was standing with her friends, smiling and laughing to whatever they were saying. Like everyone else in here, she was wearing her gym kit – black athletic shorts and a blue and white tee shirt, the colour of our school. It wasn't anything special, yet she made it seem that way, outdoing anyone in here. Her brown hair was tied back, the ponytail falling down her back, showing her stunning profile and making my mouth go dry.

Another clap on the back from Y/BF/N pulled me from my reverie and I looked to see he was laughing at me.

"Majorly screwed," he corrected his previous comment.

He was definitely right.

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu #wanda maximoff au #Spotify

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halfway-happyyy · 3 years

Text

Bright Eyes

AN: hello friends! this is a little something i came up with using this lovely moodboard by the ever-talented @flowers-in-your-hayr . this is also in celebration of her hitting 650+ followers! congratulations my dear, you are a light and deserve all of the love.

warnings: this piece is under the cut because it delves heavily into pregnancy and babies!

The changes were somewhat slow to note in the beginning.

There had been intense morning sickness throughout the first trimester; nausea on a level she had never fathomed before. It had been so terrible that some days the only task she could muster successfully was peeling herself from her duvet to stand beneath a near-scalding shower, arms braced against the glossy, tiled walls and chest heaving under the duress of the waves roiling deep in her belly.

Sleep, when she could come by it, was an absolute reprieve that came fast and all-consuming for her.

And then one morning- a couple of weeks shy of her third trimester, she had been standing naked and dripping in front of the fogged mirror in their on-suite washroom, when she noticed as if for the first time, the burgeoning bump of her belly. She watched the rounded curve of the life form growing inside of her with a hungry, fascinated gaze.

“Good morning baby,” Alexander had appeared behind her suddenly, his warm hands reaching around her front to caress the growing bump. He dropped to his knees to press a series of tender kisses to the taut skin there. “You be kind to your mama today, hm? She's been having a bit of a rough go of it lately…” Rising to stand, he reached for the stick of Shea butter balm, removed the cap, and began to roll it over her stomach in soothing circles. She had grown self-conscious of the opaque lines that had started to grow on her belly in the months leading up to their child's birth but he remained steadfast in his utter adoration and admiration for her and what her body was doing for them, regardless. “How are you feeling today, gorgeous girl?”

She had considered the question carefully; mulled over each possible answer in her mind and sighed softly, opting for the truth. “I'm tired today, Alex.” And she was. She had known that they were approaching the tail-end of this whirlwind adventure. Knew that in the next few months their baby would be earth-side with them, knew in her heart how quickly time would pass until then.

He smiled down at her, his azure blue eyes glassy and utterly empathetic. “I'm sure you are. I have two meetings in the city today, and then I'm all yours for the next couple of weeks. What do you say we grab dinner out tonight?”

A small sigh of relief before her lips curved up into a half smile. “I'd say you got yourself a date, Skarsgård.”

And then there was the moment she had woken up from a dead sleep three weeks before she gave birth. A slick sheen of perspiration covered every square inch of her body as she fought for a proper breath, and Alexander- bless his heart, in his sleep-heavy state had assumed that this was it. He had leapt out of bed, hand poised around the leather handle of the diaper bag next to his night side table. It, of course, wasn't it- rather she had been the victim of a nightmare of such terror that she could not begin to explain, or quantify, but that had shaken her to her very core. She was gripped with a fear the likes of which she had never felt before or since. It was a palpable, ugly thing that sidled itself inside her chest and caused tears to rush in rivers down her cheeks. All Alexander could do was hold her tight and rock her until the heaving stopped, the seemingly bottomless well of saltwater behind her eyes dry for the time being.

“What on earth is going on, kid?”

She had taken a deep breath, her eyes felt as if someone had dried them with sheets of sandpaper. “I'm scared, Alex.”

He clicked his tongue and held her ever tighter to his chest. “Of course you are. Of course you are. That's completely normal, my love.”

She trembled violently beneath him. “I need to feel like I'm not going to fuck this child up somehow… I need to know I'm going to be okay at this.”

Alexander pressed his lips to her temple, his warm breath as it fanned out over her face helped to quell her panic somewhat. “You're going to be okay at this,” He rubbed reassuring circles into the small of her back. “We're going to be okay at this. Together. We're going to make mistakes- that's a given. But there’s no way this child won't know love. Because it lives right here with us.”

One Monday morning, about a week prior to giving birth, she had found herself admiring the finishing touches to their nursery. A wooden rocking chair- possibly her most favourite part of the room, stood unsuspecting in the corner next to the open window. It was cracked to help the heady scent of fresh paint dissipate and she held her arms a little tighter to herself to ward off the early morning May breeze. A brand-new bookshelf was already chockful with material- titles ranging anywhere from The Very Hungry Caterpillar, to Where the Wild Things Are, to The Little Book of Fika- stood next to the rocking chair. Adorning the top of the shelf were photographs from their maternity shoot, some framed sonograms and a bear-shaped lamp. The walls had been washed in a soft beige, with Alexander insisting on some kind of fun decal- a tall tree and a rainbow helped to spruce up the adjacent accent wall. The whimsical plush animals of their baby’s mobile swayed gently in the breeze and she smiled to herself again. Reaching for the radio next to the crib, she flicked it on and braced herself against the wooden railing to stretch. Everybody Wants to Rule the World had come on and she dropped her head back and began to dance to the calming sway of the song. Regrettably, she hadn’t done much of it all during her pregnancy, but it felt necessary and wonderful to be as connected as possible to the little light inside of her before they were separated for good.

“Whatcha doing there, mama?”

Not noticing her sudden company until he had made himself known, she splayed her hands around her bump and beamed up at Alexander from his perch in the doorway. “I’m dancing this baby out, papa.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Her smile grew tenfold. “We’d love that.”

Alexander closed the short distance and wrapped himself around her; the velvet-soft rust coloured sweater that he had chosen for the day reminded her of the miniscule onesie tucked away in the dresser a few feet away. She leaned into his touch, letting his embrace warm the pair of them wholly. “Are you ready?” She murmured, after a while.

“Not even remotely,” He confirmed. “But that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it?”

Their baby girl arrived early in the morning of the twenty-first of May. At about six pounds thirteen ounces, she was almost incomprehensively small but easily the most beautiful creature they had ever laid eyes on. She fit nearly perfectly in the palm of Alexander’s hands and came complete with ten miniscule fingers and toes. Her eyes, when they were open, were a breathtaking hue of blue- one of the countless things her papa had bestowed her. A name had been elusive to them until they were in the comfort of their own home, her tiny frame swallowed up by an expert swaddle, and tucked easily inside the crook of Alexander’s forearm. “Well, what do you think kid?” He peered down at her, his eyes tired, but alight with a fire she had become familiar with in the days after their baby's arrival.

“I think it’s a beautiful name, Alex.”

He cleared his throat and blinked back a couple of tears as he gazed down at his sleeping daughter. “Welcome to the world, Maja Elizabeth Skarsgård. We love you endlessly already.”

And he had been right all along, of course.

It was never going to be easy and sleep was never going to be readily available again. They were going to screw up somewhere down the line. But to be blissfully hopeful for the future and for their family was easy- because love lived there.

#tw: pregnancy #650followers #flowers-in-your-hayr #pregnancy #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard drabble #fluff #drabble #writing #alex sstuff

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thermaflute · 4 years

Note

Oh my God hi welcome!!! I'm so glad to hear about new writers of color, especially anime cuz I feel like it's rare. But anyway could you do some headcanons for aizawa reacting to Hair Day™. Like "wdym you can't go anywhere because you're washing your hair ????" I hope you have fun and wish your blog success!!

Thank you and your wish has come true, I'm doing well and it could never happen with y'all 🥺. This community is growing so fast and honestly, I don't know another fandom that has this kinda loving poc in it.

Shouta Aizawa

🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈

It was the weekend, and he wanted to go out.

This was rare for him but he felt particularly charitable today and wanted to spend some time with his lady.

His lady though, had other plans.

"Babe, I can't go right now, I really gotta wash my hair today. I already put it off too long."

"That's fine. We can go in about an hour."

You made a face half a cringe and half sympathetic. "Oh no…you see, it's gonna be a little longer than that?"

He looked at you a bit confused and sighed, "explain".

"You know like all 900 of those bottles in the shower right? Well I have to use all of them. It's so my hair looks right baby, I can't just wash it and go y'know?"

He still seemed a bit confused but remembers seeing you walk around in a towel for half of the day, all kind of caps on your head, half a dozen eggs missing from the fridge.

"Well if there's no other option I guess that's fine. Is there anything I can do to help?"

You smile at him, "just keep me company babe".

He helps you detangle your hair, and is surprisingly gentle with it.

"I'm tender headed, careful."

"Now why would I want to rip your pretty little hair out."

His calloused hands are so gentle you almost purr at his work.

"You're so beautiful kitten, now hurry up and get in that shower."

He learned so quickly and talked to you while you waited for the conditioner to set.

"And you mean to tell me it's still gonna take another hour after this?"

"Yes, maybe even longer cause I gotta braid it after this. But, it might be quicker if you help…" you bat your eyes at him and he pat the steamy shower cap on your head.

"Send me the videos."

You squeak and send him some tutorials.

You finally walk out the shower for good hours later.

"Look, this might not look the best but I think I got the gist of what I'm supposed to be doing."

You parted and moisturized your hair on your own and gave him the side you struggled with the most to do. You demonstrated how you did it and he followed. It took him a few tries but after awhile, he got it!

"Babe! It looks great! You skimmed off about an hour of braiding."

He watches you smile as you jump around changing into something nicer than a large tee to just coverup.

"Well, I had a great teacher" he says as he slumps himself over you. "That was a lot of work, I'm tired, maybe we shouldn't go out" he says with a laugh.

You roll him off of you and give him a stern look "no, we're going, come on." You stop at the door and he looks up at you, feigning sleepiness. "Well? We ain't got all day now Shouta."

He smiles at you and follows you out of the door to enjoy what little evening you guys have left.

#aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #bnha x black reader #bnha x poc!reader #mha x black reader #mha x reader #mha x poc!reader #mha x you #aizawa shouta #aizawa headcanons #bnha #mha #bruh i wrote this and the loneliness set in

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limenysnocket · 3 years

Text

Japanese Denim

Summary: You're free to travel with Taika again. Where to go? Think about it. For the past year, Taika has been bingeing anime non-stop, and his closet is full of the Japanese culture. What better place... Japan.

Pairing: Taika Waititi x Reader

Warnings: Baecation- fluff, swearing.

Words: 2.1k

A/N: This is for @fineanddandy 's lovely little challenge, and I've always wanted to go to Okinawa so this is an opportunity to do some research for fun and for my amusement.

@olyvoyl @honorarytenenbaum @dandywaititi @mrtommyshelby @whatwememeintheshadows

•○●•○●•○●•

"Thank you! And enjoy your stay at the Henn na Hotel!"

"How many times a day do you get served by a fucking dinosaur? Are you kidding me?" Taika was bouncing all the way to your room. His hand gestures only got wider by the second. "And this place is desolate. I'm starting to think the robots killed everyone for fuel."

"This isn't a Y2K situation, dumbass. It's like... the aftermath of that. And if robots actually needed to travel places," you shrugged, rolling your suitcase away from divots in the carpet.

This is where you chose to stay in Nagasaki. They called it the Henn na Hotel, where everything (absolutely everything) was ran by robots. No living staff, except for the maintenance crew. Nothing. They even gave you a little robot companion in your room that was like a moving Alexa with glowing eyes and an eerie, childish voice. It would even sing nursery rhymes if you asked it politely. But as Taika had exclaimed about when he was first booking his stay at the hotel, you had the choice to check in with a robotic raptor at the front desk. Of course, there were perfectly normal human robots, but those didn’t excite him as much.

And what could make this better? It was in the middle of a makeshift Dutch theme park called Huis Ten Bosch with nightly live performances and a walk of lights that would make you think you're on some sort of drug trip.

A lot of this was weird to you. Immediately, as soon as you got off the plane, both you and Taika had to take a safety course with a few other men and women. From earthquakes, to fires, to emergency evacuations. You were thinking your jet lag was going to be the worst part of your trip. You didn't get to go to sleep until you reached your hotel room. Which was hours later.

You woke back up at seven o'clock at night with Taika passed out right beside you. Dusk was just beginning to creep along the horizon. You walked to your window and pulled open the curtains. The sight amazed you. You gathered yourself up, throwing on some clothes, then tossing a pair at your sleeping boyfriend.

Taika woke up, completely disgruntled and still very sleepy. "Babe, what the fuck," he murmured, rubbing his eyes with a palm and clearly not ready to get up yet.

“Just shut up and get your clothes on. We’re going to have fun,” you whispered through the thin air of your hotel room. Begrudgingly, he got up and started to get dressed. Just a pair of shorts, his chucks, and a plain t-shirt. Nothing too eccentric since you did not want to draw in attention. Once he was ready, you were dragging him downstairs. Outside of your building, there was a slew of people walking around. Not too much to suffocate, but enough to know that humanity was thriving outside of your little robot-ran hotel room.

Passed all the people, Taika saw what excited you. It was dark now, and the throngs of lights coating each building you saw, were now on. The virtual reality merry-go-round was up and running, and live performances went on the little stage. People were gathered around every attraction, but Taika went to the performance first.

It was all bright dancing and wild colors. People were in front of the stage, doing the dances too with some kind of glee on their faces. It really was bizarre, since you and Taika seemed to be the only ones without eye masks on.

Taika tried his best to join in with the dancing, but really couldn’t catch on. Unless it was Michael Jackson’s, “Thriller,” or something he made up on the spot, the man cannot dance in sync. But, it was still fun to watch him try, so, you kept encouraging him, even though he was a mess. It was payback for all the times he messed with you. Like stealing your favorite hoodie.

He was ready for more of the tour when he was finished, and what you figured might be your night of taking him around, turned into his. You didn’t mind. He was taking you to the places you wanted to go anyway. Through the forest of lights, down the glowing river, and you enjoyed the night water shows that were also lit up with bright techno colors. As a treat... you even let him have a look at the One Piece ship they have floating in the harbor.

Finishing up your night, you decided to take a stroll on Umbrella street. They were lit up in a lovely blue and pink color. All the stores that lounged on the sides were closing up, and there weren’t many people left lingering around the lights. Eventually, you and Taika were the only ones left. Your arm was wrapped around Taika’s, and all you could stare at was the lights. He had one hand in his pocket, and he let you lean most of your weight on him. It had only been a couple of hours since you started to take a look around, but you were tired again. The jet lag still hadn’t completely wore off, you supposed, and it showed.

“Come on,” Taika murmured into your ear, “Let’s get back to our room.”

It was another fifteen minutes before the park was totally shut down and was no longer accepting guests. You both drowsily made your way up to your hotel room, where your tiny robot friend was waiting for you, asking what time you were going to wake up. It was annoying, but the exhaustion made it easy to ignore. You got back into your pajamas, crawled into bed with Taika, and went to sleep.

The next morning, you were up bright ad early. The little robot friend on your desk still asked what time you were going to wake up. It would take care of itself, hopefully. The park was getting ready to open, by the time you left with Taika on your arm. From Nagasaki’s airport, you took a small plane over to Naha, Okinawa, where you would spend the rest of your day, walking about in your swimsuit, until the sun set.

White sand, beautiful beaches, exquisite sushi, and odd looking statues that you had to ask the locals about. From shrines, to snakes, to boardwalks, it was all here, and you were going to take in all of it.

Instead of staying in a lavish resort for the day, you and Taika just walked, took the monorail, or took a bike cab everywhere. Most of the time you were there, however, you spent on the beach. The crystalline waters called to you from a distance, and it just looked so blue! You couldn’t help yourself.

Taika went searching for shellfish, but he liked to spend time with you in the water. It was about twenty or so minutes in when he splashed a large amount of water at you. You spluttered, since most of it landed in your face. You wiped your eyes and caught him, holding his hands behind his back and carelessly looking around as if he had done nothing wrong. You didn’t buy his act, obviously, and you splashed back at him. To him, you had just declared war, and things were going to get serious.

Waves and waves of water were sent flying through the air, and both of you were drenched in battle. With how much you were moving, you were sure you scared all the fish away from the water.

At the very end, neither of you were sure who won, but you were both happy and tired. You took the opportunity to rest on the beach, laying on your stomach on a towel and enjoying the warm sunlight while it lasted. Taika sat beside you once he was satisfied with his search for shells. You took your time to go through some of his little collection and ended up being thoroughly impressed with his find. You found a few conch shells, but your favorite by far had to be the spider conch that he found. It was small, and could fit in the palm of your hand, but you still enjoyed the shape and color. He let you keep it.

After a long day, you decided to stop in a restaurant to grab something to eat. It was a lovely mom and pop shop that was based on soba noodles and sea food. There was floor seating, or there were tables and chairs. Taika picked fast and it was right to the floor seating. Tatami matts and plush cushions provided a much cozier atmosphere than first suggested. When the time to order food came around, you both had a lot to cover. Playing at the beach worked up an appetite. The people working were more than happy to oblige to your needs and would feed you the best food anyone could make.

With your food came traditional Sake and two tiny teacups of herbal teas. With a table covered in food, and alcohol thrown into the mix, the night would last a very long time. Yet, you still had a plane to catch by the end of it. You stayed as long as possible, ate as much as you could stomach, and drank a lot more Sake than you would like to admit, but hey, you still had an amazing time. Not to mention how much attention Taika was getting from passers by. He could get quite loud, and those who could understand or speak English were drawn to his boisterous aura.

You left the restaurant, fat and happy, as well as Taika. After gathering up your shoes and changing out of your wet clothes, you took a plane to Osaka, then took the train the rest of the way to the small town of Karuizawa. Taika had booked a pension for the night, and it would be capping off your small vacation with him in Japan.

The pension was a small, red roofed building, just outside of the shopping district. Luckily, the lights were still on by the time you made it in. The buzz of the Sake still had quite the grip on you, so you let Taika do most of the talking. It took a minute, since the people running the place had to send out for someone who spoke English, but the waiting wasn’t all that bad. You got the chance to take a look at the beautiful stone garden outside of the window.

Again, the place you were staying wasn’t fancy or as nice as the robotic one you stayed in, but it was still comforting. They gave you a king-sized bed in a big bedroom with circular windows, a living room, large bathroom, and a mini kitchen. The remnants of the complimentary dinner they had served a few hours before you arrived still wafted through the air.

After long showers and setting out clothes for tomorrow (Taika insisted he wear his denim kimono), you both sat in the small living room for some time, trying to make sense of a random game show that played on the television. Taika had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his body still pleasantly warm from his shower and the rose petal soap he used tickled your sense of smell. His hair was still dripping with water, and little beads of it would fall onto his broad shoulders. Your hands were fiddling with the spider shell he had given you earlier, and you just looked on at the television ahead, struggling to stay awake.

“Doing okay?” Taika muttered to you, sounding quite tired himself. You gave him a low hum in response and tucked your nose into his shirt. You wrapped your arms around him, and he didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Did you have a good time?” He always liked to reassure himself with you, to make sure you were always happy and satisfied with the things he picked out. You gave him another hum, but in a more approving tone than last time. He blew a laugh through his nose and leaned his head back, resting it on the couch and staring at the ceiling for a time.

“Good...” he said again softly, “I’m glad you did...”

#fineanddandy1kchallenge #taika waititi x reader #taika waititi imagine #Taika Waititi #taika waititi imagines #taika waititi/you

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rainstormfes · 3 years

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Kimetsu no Yaiba The Move: Mugen Train Review!

SPOILER WARNING, OBVIOUSLY. I'm gonna talk about said movie under the cut. If you can, I highly suggest watching this in theaters bc the surround sound and beautiful visuals on a big screen is just infinitely better than waiting for it so you can watch it on your computer. Anywayyy onto my rant~

FIRST OF ALL the story was beautiful, Rengoku is an amazing senpai and person 🤧

SECOND OF ALL (i didnt look up the cast prior to watching at all so) I WAS ABT TO CRY HEARING EGU AS ONE OF THE KIDS AND THEN ENOJUN AS RENGOKU'S BABY BRO ?? Ive been pretty obsessed w enojun lately so BOTH MY BBYS IN ONE MOVIE???? ALONG W HANAE-SAN, SHIMONU, MATSUOKA-SAN, HINO-SAN AKDHAJHDJA. I LOVED IT EVEN MORE.

Hirakawa-san's voice never ceased to amaze me. He sounded so CRAZY and i LOVED it. It added even more to his character. His powers seemed powerful its just that rengoku's insane strength kind of took away from what was supposed to be the threat of that demon's strength.

AS FOR AKAZA. My first thought was 'sukuna??' 😂. My second thought was PLS KEEP RENGOKU ALIVE and then he didnt smh.

Both fights were absolutely insane. I LOVED enmu's dream power. Which in turn made me so surprised at tanjiro's willpower to continue to off himself in those dream states. It's been a while since i first watched the first season of kimetsu no yaiba so i havent seen everyone for a while and i've slightly forgotten the specifics of their characters. So witnessing tanjiro's strong willpower like it was the first time, that was even more impressive to me, i think.

Tanjiro's dream state itself just absolutely broke my heart. Every second I was like 'nezuko's not here and that's how he's gonna realize he's dreaming' but NOPE. G O S H when she showed up and he had to forced himself to keep his back to everyone... AGH, THE PAIN. Tanjiro was so strong and i can only imagine how much he just wanted to stay in that dreamland. That whole sequence just made me love tanjiro more and more.

Of course, i had to roll my eyes just a tiny bit at zenitsu's dream state 😂 it was really cute tho, and I just loved hearing nezuko talk. As much of a dunce cap zenitsu can be, he's a sweetie and very caring to his team so i loved everything he did while he was still SLEEPING

As for inosuke, MY GOSH i wanted to laugh SO LOUD in the almost empty theater when his dreamland was shown 😂 and after all those proclamations of being the leader, he still followed orders from the people he acknowledges as strong and powerful. He's such a cute character, being all tough on the outside but a huge softie on the inside. I like gaps like that ehe

NOW RENGOKU'S DREAMLAND. first of all like i said, i wanted to absolutely lose it when rengoku's baby bro spoke. ENOJUN'S LITERALLY IN EVERYTHING LATELY AND I LOVE IT. but gosh, just hearing his father EVEN IN HIS DREAMLAND say those discouraging things... i quickly came to respect rengoku's strong will and sense of justice. he's such a great senpai, i'm gonna miss him so much 😢

And y'all can we just take a moment to appreciate ufotable. I LOVE THEM SO FRICKIN MUCH, THEY'RE SO AMAZING FOR THESE VISUALS. The backgrounds, the animation, the art for the different elemental styles GOSH EVERYTHING WAS SO PRETTY AND WELL DONE.

I'm really happy i got to experience this movie in the theaters IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE BEEN TO A THEATER for obvious reasons, so this being the first movie i see makes me very happy. Everything was beautifully done. Can't wait for season 2!

#kimetsu no yaiba #mugen train #demon slayer #kamado tanjiro #kamado nezuko #agatsuma zenitsu #hashibira inosuke #rengoku kyojuro #hanae natsuki #shimono hiro #matsuoka yoshitsugu #hino satoshi #enmu #hirakawa daisuke #akaza #akira ishida

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anobscurename · 4 years

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ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XV — masterlist

concept: the three times chris comforted you, and the times you returned the favour. the slowest of slow burns, the angstiest of all angst. part sixteen of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 3,8k

warnings: drinking, so much fluff, heartbreaking angst

author's note: this one, guys, gals, and non-binary pals, is for @fangirlovestuff because it's her BIRTHDAY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABYYYY (and i'm sorry in advance). the songs are linked, so if you don't know them, you can check 'em out :)

In your ten months of knowing him, Chris had always known how to cheer you up, irregardless of how big or small the issue was.

You would even go so far as to call him a master of distraction – because by the end of the day, you wouldn't even have known you'd cried at all.

You could recall three times he had been there for you, and the two times you returned the favour.

The first time he had seen you cry – about three months into your living situation – he had been by your side immediately, pulling you flush against his body. He held you in his big arms for the longest time, and just waited the sobs out.

He wasn't the type of person to press, and he knew you'd tell him what was wrong if you wanted.

Instead, he asked you what you wanted.

You were lightheaded and cry‐drunk, so it took a moment to come back to yourself. "Huh?"

"Do you want to be quiet or loud?"

"I just..." You struggled to find words that didn't make you sound needy, but you found none. "I don't want to be alone."

"That's out of the question," he smiled knowingly. "So, what will it be, {your last name}? Quiet or loud?"

He had a twinkle in his eye, one that suggested his question delved deeper than the words implied.

"Quiet."

And then he was pulling you up off the couch and out the door in total disregard of your chosen attire.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Chris, I'm literally in my pyjamas–"

But he was already opening the garage, the creaks of the gears overshadowing your weak protests.

"You're wearing pants this time," he winked at you. "So we have that going for us."

And then you were in the car, location still a mystery.

Any attempts to get a modicum information was shut down with a simple "it's a surprise."

"Why can't you tell me?"

"Because then it wouldn't be a surprise."

And you were glad he hadn't told you, because soon, you were pulling up outside a place you hadn't been to since you were a kid and going on school trips. You'd never been to any L.A. ones, having moved there only half a year ago. But the way your whole body immediately was overcome with such calm...

It was like you had been hoping to come here since you'd woken up that morning, and had received the news of your grandfather's admittance to the hospital earlier that night.

But there was no way for Chris to have known that your grandfather had taken you to the aquarium when you were young, telling you about all the fish, helping you make up increasingly bizarre backstories for them.

He just knew you had to leave the house, and go somewhere quiet.

And it was a weekday, so the chances of kids screaming and running through the aquarium hallways were slim to none.

So while you walked in the tinted blue light, eyes scanning over information plaques and watching the multi-coloured aquatic animals lazily drift past the glass panes in a comfortable silence, you reached out to give his wrist a gentle squeeze.

His hands had been sitting in his pockets, giving you your space, but hovering close enough to you to let you know you weren't alone.

"Thank you," you croaked out softly.

When you turned your head to look at him, he had been looking at you, a smile of heartwarming endearance on his face.

If you hadn't been so consumed by the exhibits, you'd have known that he hadn't taken his eyes off you the entire time, and you'd have known he also hadn't stopped smiling. Smiling at you, seeing just how happy you were, even though your eyes were still watery and worry was still thick in your throat.

He slid his hand out of his pocket easily to lace your fingers together, loose enough for you to pull away if you had wanted, but tight enough for you to know that he had no intention of letting go first.

But you didn't pull away, instead strengthening the intwining grasp.

And so you continued, walking through the aquarium in that comfortable silence. And at some point along the way, you found laughter again, pointing out the ugliest fish and saying it was him, only to have him gasp in mock surprise.

"My God, you're such a flirt," he'd say.

And then he'd point out the most beautiful fish he could find.

"That's you."

——————

The second time was a week later.

It was your grandfather again, but the issue had been more serious than any one of your family members initially believed.

You didn't cry this time, but Chris could sense the immeasurable sadness in your posture, the way you sat on the couch, staring blankly ahead.

He came to stand in front of you, and gently knelt down so your eyes would focus on his. Everything about his stature screamed concern as he caressed the hair away from your face.

"Quiet or loud?" He had asked so softly, so simply.

"Loud."

He helped you up, careful with your fragile state. He walked you to your room, into the bathroom, and left you to take a calming shower by yourself.

When you'd gotten out, gotten ready for whatever surprise excursion was next – dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans, scuffed sneakers on your feet but Chris would claim you looked prettier than he'd ever seen you – Chris was waiting for you by the front door.

You knew better than to ask him where he was taking you this time. And honestly, you were too drained to even muster the words.

You wanted loud, to drown out the misery.

And you got what you wanted.

Chris had taken you to a local pop-up carnival, and in spite of the cloudy weather mirroring your emotion, threatening rain, it was filled with screaming kids and the sounds of joy.

"They come by once every six months," he explained while you waited in the line to enter. "I wanted to take you under different circumstances, but..."

"It's wonderful," you assured him, although your tone didn't sound like it.

He paid your entrance fees – buying a large roll of game tickets for the both of you – and with his hand ghosting over the small of your back, he guided you inside.

Your smile first came when you were on the ferris wheel, and it didn't fade until you were back home, saying good night.

You had spent the whole afternoon there, and even most of the evening, until around ten, when they had begun to take down the stalls and unpitch their tents.

"I'm totally going to crush you at this," you had grinned at him at some game or another. And you did, but only because he wasn't entirely focused on the game, but watching you.

He would tell himself later, as he lay in bed, the reason he couldn't take his eyes off you was because he had wanted to make sure you were alright, and having a good time. But that was a half truth. The full truth was simply because he couldn't stop looking at that smile he loved so much, on the girl he loved more.

A sense of pride would swell in his chest at the very thought of him having played a part in your happiness.

And so you did absolutely crush him. But only because he'd been distracted, and, if truth be told, because he let you.

You held your prize – a hilariously massive teddy bear, drowning you in its fluff – with both arms, laughingly taunting him for his loss, which had got him a much smaller bear (a participation trophy at best) which he carried in one hand.

You had also gone to the circus they had there, your teddy bear seated beside the two of you, taking up a whole seat by itself. You marvelled at the trapeze artists, the charisma of the ringleader, the fire juggler from Prussia, and even found it in yourself to giggle a little at the clowns who you thought you'd be irreparably prejudiced against since you watched Stephen King's It.

And if you were to now scroll back in your camera roll, you would find the hundreds of pictures you had taken together in the hall of mirrors, and the beautiful twinkling lights of the distant city that sparkled like their own constellation from your view at the top of the wheel.

But you wouldn't scroll back now.

Not now.

———————

The third time had just been a bad day.

Nothing set it off, but you'd woken feeling like trash, and it really didn't sit well with you.

It had been post kiss, post Vegas, in that week Chris had returned, and he could feel it the second you stepped into the kitchen.

His usual morning greeting of "good morning, Sleeping Beauty" fell short on his lips.

"Both," you said to him, already knowing the question he was going to ask.

You had managed to get yourself dressed that day, thinking that that one step into productivity would pull you out of your slump. It hadn't. So you told him "both," and he immediately complied.

Setting the mug down, coffee unfinished, he grabbed his keys off the counter. He called for Dodger, and you were in the car again.

This time, you already knew where you were going. It wasn't a difficult puzzle to solve, especially with Dodger there with you.

And your suspicions were confirmed when he pulled up to a remote beach, a hidden gem that only locals would know about.

And in the secluded bay, you walked alongside each other, Dodger prancing ecstatically into the water and darting across the sand.

You watched him greet other dogs, tail wagging. You encountered very few people, giving them a greeting smile in passing.

It really was the perfect mixture of both – serene in the best way possible, ocean waves loud in their crash on the shore.

Chris made no effort to hide his gaze on you this time, aside from a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, obscuring his eyes.

"Why are you wearing those?" You chuckled.

"What?"

"You're wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. Did it not come with instructions or something?"

"Oh, that," he grinned. "I wear the cap for the aesthetic, sunglasses for the disguise."

You had to reach up on your tippytoes to do what you did next – which, if you were so inclined, could be referred to as theft in the court of law.

You easily snatched the cap off his head, and, dancing out of his reach, put it on. It was a size too big, and dipped into your eyes, making him laugh through the stern demeanor he was jokingly putting on.

"Give that back," he warned. "You're ruining the aesthetic."

You repeated him mockingly, and then he was chasing you down the beach, your squeals of delight interrupting the peace and grabbing Dodger's attention.

You weren't being chased down by one Evans anymore, but two, and hoping to find sanctuary, you made your way into the water.

The sea lapped eagerly at your knees, stray droplets clawing to soak into the frayed denim of your shorts.

Chris had been wearing jeans – not exactly intending for a beach day that morning – and you'd hoped that would be enough to halt the attack.

"If you think that some water is gonna stop me from righting this injustice," he began, equally as out of breath as you were. He had been holding himself back from outright catching up to you, and you knew that – Chris was the epitome of fitness. What did you expect? To outrun Captain America? – "nay, this crime, then you are dead wrong."

"I'm in international waters!" You called back, flicking the peak of his cap teasingly. "I'm out of your jurisdiction!"

"Fuck jurisdiction!" He yelled out, and then he was wading towards you.

Water slowed both of you as you tried to keep out of his grasp, but he had the benefit of being naturally quicker. He had you in a bearhug, trapping your body against his as you struggled to break free.

"Give it back," he playfully growled into your ear.

"Never! You'll never take me alive!" You fought the words out through your laughter.

And then Dodger was there too, all but pushing you over into the shallows of the shore.

You both lay there, allowing yourselves to be drenched, through and through, Dodger licking your faces excitedly.

And as the laughter slowly subsided and the cold the breeze introduced to your wet forms finally registered, you both got up.

"Alright, have your stupid hat back," you sighed, moving to take it off.

He captured your hand in a lightning quick grip, stilling your movements. "Keep it," he smiled. "Looks better on you anyways."

You smiled back sarcastically, rolling your eyes, before pushing him back down onto the sand playfully. "All this?! All this for me to keep it?!"

He propped himself up on his elbows to peer up at you, sunglasses knocked askew.

"Dodger, as my head torturer," you said to the exhilarated mountain of a dog. "I command you to execute this man."

———————

It was hard to watch a strong man crumble, and there were days when that happened, too.

It was the day of Dodger's operation – a hip surgery, nothing too life threatening – but Chris, with all his quick wit and charming smiles, was a shell of himself.

Of course, you were worried too. But Chris needed you more than you needed him, and so, in the mournful silence of the waiting room, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He flinched a little at the sudden contact, but didn't pull away.

"Quiet or loud?"

In all definitions of the word – in the hour he had been in that waiting room, leg bouncing – he never thought he could hate quiet as much as he did now.

"Loud."

It took some effort to tug him to his feet, his body sluggish with worry. But he was up, and you were guiding him to the door, leaving your number with the vet secretary for any updates.

You didn't want Chris to be worrying and checking his phone every five seconds, because you knew how that dread felt. No, he needed a distraction.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

You had never understood why Chris enjoyed doing that to you, never telling you where he was going to take you, but with the thrill of him not knowing, you got it. Spontaneity ran in his veins, and he didn't press like you so often did in the past.

You had been in L.A. long enough to find your own little secret spots, and to know exactly where you were without much guidance.

And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn't really know where you were taking him until your legs had absentmindedly taken you to an old vintage diner you knew had once been the talk of the town – filled to the brim with hipsters – before once again slipping into obscurity.

It was late into the night, but the diner was open 24/7, and you knew Chris hadn't eaten in a while.

When the bell jangled upon your entry, the waiters jolted, having taken to sitting down in the vacancy of their restaurant.

A few customers lingered here and there, club goers drunkenly scarfing down fries to try and sober up a little before hitting the next party and insomniacs downing their third cup of coffee that hour.

But for the most part it was empty, and, unfortunately, quiet.

"You here for karaoke night?" A bubblegum popping waitress asked. It really felt like the cliché, but it weirdly added to the charm. She stood, perched on the rubber stop of her roller skates, waiting for your response.

"Oh, hell yes we are," you grinned.

She took you to a table situated in front of a makeshift stage, a jukebox-karaoke machine hybrid standing proudly to one side.

Chris sat down, anxiety still heavy in his bones. You quickly ordered – two burgers, and a milkshake to share – before you were shedding your jacket and making your way on stage.

You didn't care about making a fool of yourself. The only thing you cared about was seeing Chris smile again, and in that moment, you'd do almost anything to make that happen.

You hummed in thought as you perused the songs available to you. You didn't expect much from the collection, given that the whole vibe of the diner was 50's through to early 90's. A total pocket dimension in time.

A song caught your eye and you grinned, selecting it immediately. Chris didn't want quiet – and you were going to be the loudest bitch here.

You could hear the whir of the machine as it came to life and you made your way to the vintage microphone. It crackled and whined when you pulled it closer to yourself.

You had caught the eye of the sobering-but-still-quite-drunk party animals, and they had come over to investigate.

"Sorry," you winced, voice booming on the mic. "This song goes out to my good friend Chris."

And then the music started to play, and he groaned. He knew the song decently enough, it having been one of your most replayed disco bops of the week.

"This is Sunny, by Boney M," you said over the intro. "Hope you enjoy."

And then you started to sing, intentionally bad at first to wheedle that cry strained laugh from Chris, and then finishing off in that voice he knew you had.

Every time the song mentioned "Sunny," you'd look directly at him, giving him an exaggerated wink. And at "I love you," you'd point at him, smile growing on your face as you danced ridiculously with the mic.

He was laughing, whole body shaking at how over-the-top you were being.

And when the song wrapped, you whooped into the mic, feedback squealing. "Thank you, everybody!" you panted.

The club goers applauded, screaming their drunken praises.

"YES, QUEEN!"

"YOU GO, BABY!"

"FUCK YES!"

"BEYONCÉ WHO?!"

That last one earned some shocked gasps and scolding. "Woah, dude. Too far."

"Thank you, thank you," you grinned, feeling alive. You could see the laughter starting to fade from Chris again, and so you moved to put on another song.

"This one," you whispered into the mic, "is a duet. So, please. Good friend Chris, wouldst thou riseth to the occasion?"

He shook his head, cheeks flushing at being called out.

"Oh, come on," you whined, the music already beginning to play out the intro. "For me?"

He narrowed his eyes at you, already smilingly weighing the pros and cons of his embarrassment. You batted your lashes. "I know you can sing, Evans. Don't start this shy shit now."

"COME ON, CHRIS!"

"YEAH, COME ON CHRIS!"

"Give the people what they want," you wiggled your brows.

He shrugged, muttering "fuck it," and reluctantly rising from his seat, he hopped on stage with one jump.

"You were working as a waitress at a cocktail bar, when I met you," he started singing flatly, eyes on yours, letting you know how much he didn't want to be up there. You arched a brow, pushing him let loose.

Slowly, with the encouragement of your smile, and the cheers from the drunk, he lost himself in the performance of "Don't You Want Me" by The Human League, even taking to dancing at your part of the duet.

And that's how you spent the rest of your waiting period – singing bad karaoke, shovelling food into your mouths between songs, and returning the favour of cheering on the clubbers when they had resolved to stay and sing because they decided the best time they were probably going to have that night was in that stuffy little diner on a street they probably would've walked right past on a regular day.

And when your phone rang for Dodger, you paid your bill, leaving a hefty tip in apology to the staff for having to endure your wailing. You said your goodbyes to your newfound friends of the night.

And Dodger was fine when you took him home.

And Chris was smiling again.

———————

You couldn't bare to dwell on the second time you took it upon yourself to cheer up Chris Evans, because the fact of the matter was, that just reminiscing about those other four had you muffling sobs all over again.

You thought about that day – the road back from Vegas, pulling off to Route 66, taking him to the food truck park – and the alcohol you urgently gulped down did nothing to numb you.

You had often looked back on those memories fondly. But now it was a gaping hole in your chest.

You were sitting on the balcony, overlooking the beach. In the distance, under moonlight, you saw a couple walking hand-in-hand, and you knew it was them.

"Thought I'd find you out here," a familiar voice said. It wasn't Chris', and that had you swigging another shot from the near empty bottle in your lap. "You holding up okay?"

"Ask me again in a month," you stated blankly. You hadn't even moved to address the newcomer, nor had you shifted over to make room for him. He sat all the same. "If you want to put a number to how long it takes to move on, ask Chris. The answer is a month."

It had taken a month for him to move from you to Lily. But it wasn't exactly like any of you had made your feelings and intentions known, aside from a kiss that you had claimed you'd been drunk for, and a confirmation of friendship.

If you let yourself think about it too long – which you had, on more than one occasion, this one specifically – it was your fault.

Sebastian reached over and gently pried the bottle from your iron grip. He looked at how much was left, surprised. And still, you gazed numbly ahead.

"This is how day one looks, huh?" He attempted a joke. Even he knew it fell flat, and instead took a sip to ease himself.

"The alcohol content in that bottle is directly proportionate to how many fucks I have left to give," you shrugged, voice monotonous.

"How much more are you going to put yourself through before you've had enough?"

"I've had enough," you sighed. "But I'll probably suffer a little more."

"You have more strength than I do, then."

His sympathetic arm wrapped around you, and you melted into his side, the comfort another person brought acting as a placebo salve to the pain. Like an ice pack on a shattered femur.

And you realised why you were so sad. Those memories meant nothing to you now.

They had lost their meaning because he wasn't there with you, on this roof, asking you that question when you needed it asked the most. Quiet or loud.

He wasn't there, and the taste of whiskey was chased away by ash.

#dina writes #dina cries #chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans/you #chris evans fluff #chris evans/reader #chris evans angst

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