#all that will do is make him miserable. deprive him of the one person in his life who cares for him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellecdc · 3 months

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Mother, im sitting here at 4am, eating mini easter eggs and ive had tge most brilliant idea!! (Inspired by @inkdrinkerworld 's fic)

Okay so, poly!moonwater and readers been having trouble sleeping due to tensions/problems with her pureblood family. As a result shes been taking more naps, but they arent restful. So reader were napping in Rems bed (the dungeons were too cold) but after a fitful 30 minutes she gets up groggy, sleep deprived and beyond frustrated. She stumbles her way down to the common room, pin point Sirius lounging across the couch and promptly throws herself down to cuddle with him and continue her nap. Everyone (minus Siri) is shook. Jamie even asks if she got the wrong person because Reggie was sitting over there (in which he got a one eyed death glare before she burrowed into Siris chest and passed out).

Now, what everybody else didnt know was that Siri had more or less adopted reader as his own (she remined him so much of Reggie, being her big brother was 2nd nature). And while Barty was her person, he was a little too crazy to be comforting in this situation ("y/n, i'll get rid of them for you. Its not hard to do so" "Barty, no."). And of course Siri nows how bad their kind of familys are so he'd been taking care of reader on the down low as an older brother would.

Bonus if Reggie then decides that looks warm and fuzzy and wants Siri cuddles too so he joins ( it took him so long to get to a point where he could let himself be vunerable enough to openly allow Siri to take care of him 😭)

aweeee poor reader. this ended up being way more serious than I thought it would be? like it's not funny at all, there's no humour (which feels odd to me, usually I can throw some jokes or banter in there) but plenty of hurt comfort???.......idk, I can't tell if this is any good, it feels very different from my usual pieces

poly!moonwater x fem!reader whose family sucks (but it's very Sirius-centric)

CW: mentions of insomnia, mentions of abusive families, making fun of only children (sorry), hurt/comfort

You were miserable to say the least; you couldn’t remember when the last time you had a restful sleep was, and nothing you did seemed to help.

The closer it got to the Winter Holidays, the more your mind seemed to spiral. Every time you began to relax, your heart pounded as if you’d accidentally leaned too far back in your chair, reminding you of your upcoming visit home. Every time you closed your eyes, you were bombarded with images of angry faces and violent curses being shot at you.

The Slytherin dungeons were too cold, and every time you found your way into Regulus’ dorm, Barty insisted on butting in, and though you appreciated his support, you couldn’t handle his threats promises to burn down your home with your parents in it.

Remus and Regulus both suggested you perhaps talk to Madame Pomfrey about getting some dreamless sleep or sleeping draught, but you were too embarrassed to admit to your two overprotective boyfriends that you’ve used them so frequently during your life for this very reason that they had lost all efficacy.

It had gotten to the point that you managed to get the most sleep in the library bent over the table with your face on your book whilst Remus and Regulus did their work (and sometimes yours), and that honestly left you feeling more painfully tired than you had been before your nap.

So, you were nearly falling asleep at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall over your chicken and roast potatoes when Remus gently nudged you and suggested you go lie down for a bit and you wanted to weep into your potatoes which was only slightly less embarrassing than sleeping in them, causing him and Regulus to bring you up to Gryffindor tower.

You’d kicked them both out of the Marauders’ dorm room after some time – Remus for snoring and Regulus because the sound of him turning the pages of his book was distracting you. He promised to stop reading, but then he breathed too loudly and you started crying.

You were overtired, emotional, and running on fumes.

You’d counted puffskeins, you’d had a warm glass of milk, you’d taken off articles of clothing and reconfigured your outfit numerous times (which was currently Remus’ jumper and no pants), and you’d tried every position imaginable to no avail.

You think you might have perhaps gotten five minutes of sleep before you woke up with a start, a barely repressed scream grating through your teeth.

Feeling disturbingly weepy and no less groggy from your horrid sleep, you pulled on a pair of your sweatpants and grabbed the throw blanket from the end Remus’ bed before trudging down the stairs to the common room.

“You should have seen the look on Filch’s face- oh! Hi Y/N!” James called as you made your way over to the three-seater and stood over the black-haired boy currently occupying it.

“Oh, Trouble.” He cooed sympathetically at you before kicking his feet out, laying back, and opening his arms for you to join him. You quickly climbed on top of him, and he tucked you in between the back of the sofa and his side, bending your knee so that your thigh rested on top of his, and pulled the blanket over the two of you.

You let out a shaky sigh and felt the first few tears fall from your eyes and onto Sirius’ chest.

“Uhm...” James said loudly, looking over to both Regulus and Remus cuddled in a large plush chair from his place on the loveseat with Lily like ‘are you seeing this right now?’. “I think you’ve got the wrong wizard there, L/N.” He said with a nervous laugh.

“No, she’s quite alright.” Sirius gritted back at him, looking far more severe than James thought the situation called for as he rubbed his hand consolingly up and down your arm.

James looked to your boyfriends, his face clearly asking all the questions that his mouth wasn’t.

“He helps, sometimes.” Regulus admitted, not looking particularly happy that you chose his brother over him, but not nearly as murderous as James figured he might look if he’d found Lily snuggled up like that with some other bloke. And it appeared as though the look of heartbreak on Remus’ face was caused more by your current sorry state and less about your current cuddle partner.

“But...your brother?” James asked, still befuddled over this development. “Doesn’t she usually go to Junior for things like this?”

Sirius scoffed. “Junior’s solution to almost anything is fire or murder.”

“Or both.” You whimpered quietly, causing Sirius to tighten his arm around you and bring his other hand up to continue stroking your arm.

“Besides, Barty’s an only child.” Regulus said flippantly.

“What’s that got to do with it?” James asked, slightly offended at the insinuation that anything may be wrong with him on account of his only child-ness.

Regulus’ irritable demeanor over Sirius usurping you was quickly replaced by a cocky smirk at getting under James’ skin.

“Let me ask you this, Potter: last summer when Lily returned your letters unopened and called you an arrogant toerag after saying she’d rather date the giant squid, whose arms did you cry into?”

“He didn’t cry.” Lily laughed at the same time as James answered “Sirius’” without any hesitation.

“What?” Lily asked, looking slightly horrified that she may have actually hurt James’ feelings.

“Oh, all the time, every time, actually.” James said readily.

“He got snot on so many of my favourite band-tee’s, Red. As a matter of fact, I expect retribution.” Sirius commented.

“And why do you think you cried into Sirius’ arms?” Regulus continued.

“Well...because he’s my best mate.” James said simply.

“You may think that’s the reason, but you’re wrong. It’s because Sirius is an older brother.”

James scoffed at that. “Please, that has nothing to do with it!”

“Have you ever cried in Remus’ arms?”

“No, but-”

“Pettigrew’s?”

James grimaced but answered honestly. “No.”

“No. Because they’re not older brothers.” Regulus said definitively.

“That actually makes sense...” Lily mused aloud.

“You say that like you’re surprised, Evans. I know you’re not used to good idea’s coming out of men’s mouths, but I do assure you it happens more frequently than you might imagine.” Regulus taunted, earning him a pillow being hurled at his head.

Much to James’ chagrin, his seeker reflexes caught the pillow before it made impact with his face.

“Tosser.” James grumbled.

“Would you guys shut up.” Sirius whispered, causing everyone to look over at you.

Regulus couldn’t even find it in him to be miffed when he saw you sleeping what looked to be quite peacefully in Sirius’ arms. Your eyes were slightly swollen from your tears, and he could see the tracks they had left on your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose, but you looked so content.

“So... all big brothers know how to do that?” James asked incredulously.

“I doubt it.” Sirius commented quietly.

“Only ones who know what it’s like to live in a Pureblood hellscape and needed to share his bed with his younger brother who was too scared to sleep on his own for years.” Regulus added quietly, staring unseeingly towards you and Sirius. Remus pulled Regulus tighter into his side and began rubbing his arm consolingly.

Suddenly, things started to make a little more sense to James.

“I’ll write to mum.” James stated, causing both brothers, Lily, and Remus to look at him bemusedly.

“About what?” Remus asked finally.

“Y/N staying with us.” James said simply.

Regulus opened his mouth ready to argue; to argue that James didn’t have to and that he already took in both Sirius and Regulus. James didn’t owe Regulus anything.

But Sirius spoke first.

“She should be with her big brother, Reggie.” Sirius said, shooting him an encouraging smile and wink.

And seeing how your breathing had fallen even with your mouth slightly ajar as you clutched to the fabric of Sirius’ jumper like it was a lifeline, who was Regulus to argue?

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techrqmonic · 18 days

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Analysis on Dylan's Transcribed Journal Entries

Disclaimer: This analysis/psychoanalysis is limited only to analysis as a means to reflect and understand the people involved. It is strictly informative. Just like all of my posts, I am detached from the media I write about and solely focus on the people to understand their psychology, for others to gain insight. There is no room for me to romanticize or glorify anything I write because I am only here to explain. I understand and research, but I do not condone. Thank you.

"Fact: People are so unaware.... well, Ignorance is bliss I guess.... that would explain my depression." - Dylan

On pages 26. 385, we are given a glimpse of Dylan's personality in just one sentence. This hypersensitivity, which he links to his heightened "awareness," is entwined with suffering, or in his terms, depression. He perceives his relentless thought cycle as a curse, one that he cannot control. He mourns this enlightenment because it isolates him, making him feel different and detached from others. Dylan believes his uniqueness renders him unacceptable, worsening his sense of alienation and driving him to view himself more as a concept than a human being.

On p. 26. 388, he entails that he commits "moral" acts to "cleanse" himself or rid of any filth present in his life, making it seem that this is one of the only ways to allow his life to head to the right direction because he has no clear sense of path and possibly believes that all roots of destruction and chaos present in his life are born out of the morally unjust. He considers his misfortune to be an eternal suffering that transcends all realities; for he believes miserableness is bound to him.

Perhaps one of the reasons why he tries to rid himself of immorality is because of his unconscious belief that it might be the root of his problem. Cleansing himself is a temporary form of escapism aimed at removing permanent wrongs. It does not last, of course, because as humans, we make mistakes. However, his approach to this is considering his wrongs to be eternal and innate, which is not true and further drives him into miserableness.

Dylan also dwells on the past and is prone to transference. In psychoanalysis, transference occurs when past experiences influence current ideologies, projecting unresolved problems and traumas onto present events. This is evident in Dylan's detachment from others, rooted in past isolation and alienation. He believes no one can accept or love him due to his unresolved abandonment issues.

Expanding on abandonment, as noted on p. 26. 394, Dylan feels deserted because his "only" best friend spends more time with his partner, leaving Dylan feeling unwanted and rendering his efforts in their friendship unreciprocated. This loneliness leaves him more upset than resentful, holding onto hope that his friend will come back. This ties into his deep yearning for love. He repeatedly expresses his desire to be loved and accepted by his peers, his crush, and anyone. Even when infatuated, he idealizes love, feeling it deeply because he actively seeks it and feels deprived of it. Dylan is infatuated with the concept of love itself, craving it so intensely to the point he practically craves it so actively and it becomes a central focus of his existence.

Yearning: to be seen, to be loved, to be accepted, to be human.

It's always humanity.

#analysis #dylan columbine #columbine 1999 #writing #rebandvodka #eric and dylan #eric columbine #understandnotcondone

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soup-of-the-daisies · 10 days

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I am once again sick and tired of people downplaying Sirius's intelligence. I need more art where he is studying and reading and doing that smart nerd shit!!!!! Also if I see one more modern AU where Sirius is an influencer* or something I will start throwing things because he would not fucking do that.

(*i know that i have written one where he is BUT the whole point is that it didn’t make any sense and he was miserable)

no but literally— sirius would’ve been SUCH a big fan of free-time studying? he’s got everything he needs to know for school down pat, so he’s gonna look into more obscure magic for fun. he’s convinces james (very easily, i might add) to take the invisibility cloak into the restricted section and then they just sit there reading and taking notes all night. if they did discover the room of requirement while at hogwarts, sirius would’ve been in heaven: room for practice?? peace and fucking quiet?? private space to plan mischief?? FREE BOOKS?? good lord.

he’s SO clever. he likes being the smartest person in the room. he doesn’t suffer fools gladly. he’s got his own topics of interest that he can completely lose himself in when he’s on a research binge. as there’s no need for him to study the readings assigned in class — he knows all of that shit already — he’s going to do entirely unnecessary additional reading and he’s having the time of his life while he’s at it. his schedule is divided in eating time, homework time, class time, mischief time, staring-at-james time, and an ungodly amount of self-study. sirius is a NERD and a genius one at that, and he flat-out refuses to act shallow when he’s so clearly not; being bright and sharp and demeaning to others is an intrinsic part of him that he’s never going to let go of, not really.

influencer sirius would only be happy if he’s the video essay-kind of influencer. he’s delving into the academia. he’s writing 30 page theses and his vids are just him presenting them. he’s a model? he’s studying international law in his free time. he’s going to LEARN things (and look amazing while doing it). he needs the brain stimulation. he does difficult crosswords and sudokus when he can’t sleep, or at the breakfast table while his attention is thinly divided between three conversations and his cooling coffee. learning is as fun for him as making others feel stupid is.

we NEED more art of him being like this:

but it all makes sense to at least james, and sometimes remus and peter when they’re sleep-deprived enough to keep up with him

#plecotusauritus #ask #sirius black #mwpp #HE’S INSUFFERABLE ABOUT IT OKAY

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its-time-to-write · 1 year

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This is NOT Jamie Tartt slander. This is two sleep-deprived people making dumb choices because they’re tired. Also, this is so. Freakin. Long. Apologies in advance. Warnings include swearing, fighting, pregnancy? Is that a warning? Basically reader is pregnant and it goes through the first pregnancy test to like when the baby is a month old. Anyway. I never know how to write these intros.

you’re losing me

You and Jamie are young. You are not old. Sure, you’re married after only dating for a year and being engaged for another half a year, but it’s not like much changed from how it was. That band on your left hands gives you both a sense of security, and it’s fun to be the hot young married couple around Richmond. It’s nice to be able to walk around openly and to be called “Mrs. Tarrt,” and to know that this himbo dumbass is going to be making you laugh till you’re old and gray. (Said himbo dumbass told you that’s his favorite nickname). You both excel in your various workplaces and because of that, when you moved into Jamie’s house you were able to keep your flat. It turned out to be a blessing when your younger sister moved to England from another country, so she can be close by without actually being in the same house as you.

All that to say, you were not ready for the little pink stick you were holding at 4pm on a Wednesday.

“Babe?” Jamie calls from the front door, “I’m home! You here?”

Your eyes are glued to those two little lines. “In the bathroom!” you shout. You hear Jamie’s footsteps coming up the stairs into your room.

“Oi listen, Ted told this joke today that went over me head, so I remembered it to ask you and…” he trails off. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

You turn to look at him, the same shock from five minutes ago still on your face. In an instant, Jamie is kneeling on the floor next to you cupping your face. “Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital? Do I need to call someone? Did something happen at work?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine, I just- look.” You halfheartedly lift the pregnancy test. Jamie looks down and his face shifts from concern to one of shock then back to concern.

“Are you sure?” he asks softly.

Wordlessly, you point to the sink where there are five pregnancy tests of different brands. All positive.

“Shit,” he whispers. Then: “Wait. Why aren’t you happy bout this? I thought you wanted kids?”

“I do!” you reply a little miserably, “I do, it’s just, we talked about it and I know you really don’t at least not till you’re in your mid-thirties, and I know I told you that I wanted to have them young that one time, but that was before we were dating and I didn’t want to pressure you and I don’t want you to think I did this on purpose because I didn’t but I’m actually really scared about what you’re going to think because I’m so excited, especially because I didn’t even think this was possible.”

You’re not looking at him anymore, but hugging your knees to your chest. You are excited for this baby. You didn’t think you were going to be able to have kids, based on personal issues and family medical history. Or at least, that it would take a lot of time and a lot of doctor’s appointments. The fact that you have a total of six positive pregnancy tests is a miracle in and of itself, but it’s not what you and Jamie planned. And sure, you’re married, but does that really mean you won’t split up? This is pretty big.

All these thoughts are swirling around in your head until-

“Hey.”

Jamie softly tilts your chin up. “Look at me.”

Against your will, tears have started to leak out of your eyes.

“Darling, I ain’t mad. I think mostly I’m just glad you ain’t dyin. This is amazing! We’re going to have a little baby Tartt, and I couldn’t be happier. As long as you’re alright, I’m happy.”

You grab his bicep. “Are you absolutely sure, Jamie?” You need to know.

He laughs. “Babe, yes. Yes I am. For better or for worse, yeah? Though this really is for better.”

You crack a smile. “Ok. Ok. Yeah, ok.”

Jamie twirls a strand of your hair. “We’ll be ok, yeah? Now let’s get off this floor and go get ice cream. Heard that’s a pregnancy staple. And, on the way, can you explain this joke Ted said? Everyone laughed except me and Will, so I was thinking it’s gotta be...” his voice trails down the hall as you head out the door.

—

Jamie is funny. Once he decides to do something, he’s all in. He wanted to start telling people the moment you stepped out the door for ice cream. You had to physically put your hand over his mouth to stop him from telling Mae, whom you bumped into on your way. To be honest, you’re sure she knows anyway because Jamie got out a few words and she gave you a knowing look, but she’ll keep it to herself. She’s a good one.

It was only a matter of time before Jamie insisted you start telling the team. He’d say, mid-breakfast, “Babe. You know who would be a great babysitter? Sam. Sam’s one of me best mates. Haven’t kept a secret from him in forever,” with a puppy dog face.

Or during MarioKart, “What do you think about having Isaac and Colin help with the baby’s room? Isaac’s good at all that construction shit and both you and Colin like to paint. You probably shouldn’t be painting anyway, what with all the fumes.”

Or your personal favorite, during a shower, “Babe. What about Roy and Keeley?”

You: “What about Roy and Keeley?”

Jamie: “They should know. We should tell them. Keeley would flip her shit and I want to see if Roy will cry.”

You: “That’s what you’re thinking about? Here? Now? Good lord, man, I thought you were debating which conditioner to use.”

To be entirely fair, it was about the time to start telling people. You had started stealing Jamie’s shirts claiming that they were more comfortable. They were baggier on you, so they hid the beginnings of your baby bump, and you explained away any questions by reminding people that you wore a lot of layers because you were perpetually cold. However, you were at the point where you were going to have to start telling people, which is how Roy and Keeley ended up at your house for your bi-weekly dinner that you had been delaying for two months.

You had taken approximately two bites of food before Jamie clattered down his fork and said, “We have something to tell you.”

Roy and Keeley looked at you expectantly. You reach under your chair for two bags and place them in front of their plates.

Roy’s face is saying what the fuck as he and Keeley remove the tissue paper and hold up two onesies. A black one that says, newest addition to uncle’s day and a light pink one that says, if you think I’m cute, you should see my aunt.

They look from the onesies in their hands and then back to you and Jamie. “Surprise!” you say in unison. There is a beat of silence and then Roy says, “That’s fucking great!” at the same time Keeley squeals, “Ohmygod, congratulations!” and then you’re all on your feet hugging.

“I fucking knew it,” says Keeley. She nudges Roy, “Didn’t I tell you Roy-o? I fucking called it weeks ago! You owe me ten quid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roy grumbles as he reaches into his pocket, but that’s as close to a smile he’ll get. “Can’t believe you’re having a kid with this prick,” he says to you, but it’s prick (affectionate) as opposed to prick (derogatory).

You smile. “You’re the first people we’ve told, other than Jamie’s mum and Simon. You’re the closest thing we have to family here.”

Keeley goes, “Aw, babe,” and Roy just squints at you and lets out a grunt.

“She’s gonna have the coolest family,” Jamie says.

“She?” Keeley asks, “Are you having a girl?”

You roll your eyes. “We don’t know. We’re going to find out tomorrow, and Jamie has been insisting that it’s a girl. He says it’s his ‘dad sense,’ or something like that. I’ve given up telling him that’s not a real thing.”

Jamie shrugs, “I know what I know. Don’t get why we have to go to some bloke with that slimy gel to be told something I’ve been saying for weeks.”

“That bloke with slimy gel is my doctor and an ultrasound, you absolute himbo!” you laugh.

Roy finally cracks a smile, and you spend a comfortable evening together, thinking about how much things are going to change.

—

A week later, you’re at the Richmond pitch. You walked over from Mae’s, because you were thinking about her chips all afternoon. You ate at least three baskets and she made a sly comment about eating for two. She pinched your cheek as she walked away and then smacked Baz, who was trying to eavesdrop.

You walk into the locker room, coat still on and reach up to kiss Jamie. He’s still a sweaty from practice because none of them have gone to the showers yet, but you don’t mind.

“You ready?” he asks.

You give your arms a shake. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You walk into Ted and Beard’s office, where you asked Rebecca and Higgins to meet. Trent is in there as well, and he looks up in surprise as you walk in.

“Good to see, Mrs. Tartt,” Ted says as he gets up to hug you.

“Hey Ted,” you smile back, going over to hug Rebecca. “How are you all doing?” “Oh you know, biting our nails for whatever it is you guys have to tell us,” Ted replies.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Rebecca interjects. “I simply cannot handle any more change around here.”

You shake my head. “No, no we’re not leaving. But this is about a change.”

Back in the locker room, the Richmond boys hear a big “WHAT,” from Ted and look over to see you and Jamie getting swarmed by him, Beard, Rebecca, Higgins, and Trent. Isaac looks at Sam and shrugs, bemused. You and Jamie open the door and walk out right under where the “Believe” sign used to be.

You smile and take off your coat, revealing a shirt that says “Tartt in the oven,” and an obvious baby bump.

There is silence as jaws drop and then Isaac says-

“I’m going to be an uncle?”

The locker room erupts in pandemonium with the boys slapping each other on the back firing rapid-fire questions at you and Jamie.

“How long have you been keeping this a secret?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Are you going to name it after me?”

“Can I be the favorite uncle?”

“Can we help decorate its room?”

Jamie is smiling as big as you’ve ever seen him.

“OI!” Isaac roars. “QUIET. Are we men or are we beasts? One at a time!”

Isaac looks at you two. “Boy or girl?”

Jamie’s eyes glow. “Girl!”

The room erupts once again as Jamie kisses you on the top of your head and pulls you close to him.

—

Labor was… not fun. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great. There weren’t really complications except for the fact that Jamie was almost not there. See, it’s because your water broke when you were in the shower right before leaving to watch one of Jamie’s games. You looked down at the shower drain and felt your mind race through a million scenarios. Do you text Jamie and make him miss the game? Do you push through as long as you can? Do you have Keeley and Rebecca take you to the hospital? Do you go by yourself?

As you’re considering, you think of laying in bed the night before. The baby was kicking and Jamie was tracing patterns on your stomach whispering, “Baby Tartt doo doo doo-doo doo-doo.”

He would hate to miss this.

You make a choice and call Keeley.

Thirty minutes later you’re in Rebecca’s box waiting for the game to start. You have contractions, sure, but you’ve been having them for a while. The doctor said it was nothing to worry about, so you didn’t worry.

That means that Keeley and Rebecca don’t worry as you grip the arm of your seat and blow out a long breath.

Keeley absentmindedly pats your arm and Rebecca slings hers around your shoulders.

“Don’t go having this baby now,” she jokes, “Wait till after we’ve won.”

You force out a laugh. If only she knew.

You have to get up and walk after the first half because the contractions are starting to get closer together. Rebecca notices and gets up to come inside and see you.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

You look at her without saying anything and her eyes widen.

“Shit,” she says. “How long has this been happening?”

“Since right before I left,” you gasp out, “My water broke in the shower and I didn’t want- shit.” You bend over from a contraction before continuing, “I didn’t want to miss Jamie’s game and it’s fine, right? It’s not until they’re three minutes apart that it really matters.”

“And how long are yours?” Rebecca asks.

You don’t want to look at her. “Six,” you whisper.

“SIX?” she yells. “Darling, you need to go. I’ll call Ted, he’ll pull Jamie, and then you’ll go.”

Keeley has come in by this point and fully assessed the situation. “Babes, you can’t stick around till the game ends. You have to go.”

You hold up a hand. “I’m fine. Richmond needs Jamie. It can wait.”

Rebecca clicks her tongue. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but we’re up by two and also it’s just a football game. It doesn’t matter. You are about to have a child so let me get your husband for you.”

“Ok,” you say meekly. “Can I come with you?”

Rebecca calls Ted and you wait by the entrance to the pitch. Ted has barely put out the call to switch out number nine when Jamie is sprinting across the field to you. You’re at the hospital in record time, and that’s how Beatrice Georgie Tartt is born.

—

You and Jamie had a lot of conversations about what it’s like to be parents. You had the standard “What if I turn out like my dad,” chat (easily dispelled by the fact that he takes after his mum) and the “Baby comes before football,” chat which you needed to hear but definitely did not retain. That one was difficult for both of you, because you didn’t mind pausing your career for motherhood. You knew it would be waiting for you when you were ready to go back, but that isn’t really the case for Jamie. He’s in his prime right now, and it takes a lot of work. You had worked things out on paper, but life is never that easy. Newborns require a lot of attention, and neither of you were sleeping well. Jamie had taken two weeks off training but was back by the third. The only problem was, he was back to his regular 4am training. It’s easy to get enough sleep when you can pick when you go to bed, but not so much when your daughter needs to be fed, changed, burped, whatever every single hour.

In other words, you both were tired and snippy.

Bea was four and a half weeks old when the last straw came.

It was 2:30 am, and you was so, so tired. She needed a diaper change and you felt like you physically couldn’t get out of bed so you poked Jamie.

“Babe,” you say.

“Hm,” he groans, voice gravelly.

“Can you please change her? I can’t move,”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed babe, but I have training with Roy in an hour. I can’t get up every time she needs something. That’s your job.”

Instantly, you are wide awake.

You’ve never heard Jamie take that tone of voice with you before. Never heard it be that intentionally cutting.

You sit up. “Excuse me?”

He rolls over to face you. “You heard me. I don’t have time for this right now. It’s your job, you take care of it. This is not what I signed up for and anyway, you’re the one who wanted a baby, not me. You go deal with it.” He rolls back over to go to sleep and you just stare at him. You're too tired to fight but then Bea cries again and you say, “Jamie what the fuck.”

“Look, babe, I can always go stay in a hotel and get some sleep. You’re the one who wants me to be here with you,” he replies, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Don’t ‘look, babe’ me, Jamie Tartt,” you say, voice icy. “I’m not sure if you recall, but you were the one who told me that Bea would always come before football and you are the one who decided you wanted to get married and you were the one who made all those speeches convincing me that you’d be with me for better or for worse. Well I’ve got news for you: it’s worse.” You get out of bed. “I’m going to change our daughter, and I hope next time I see you, you’ve had an attitude adjustment.”

That must get to him because he sits up and goes, “Babe-” but you’re already out the door.

You end up sitting with Bea on her rocker until 5am, which means you hear Jamie get up to leave with Roy. It also means you notice that he doesn’t come in to say goodbye, just leaves. You stare down at Bea in your arms. She has his eyes and the beginnings of your nose. By 6am you’ve made another choice, and you call your sister to ask her to help move some of your things into your old flat.

—

You leave a note on the counter that says: Jamie. Bea and I are giving you space, and you’re gone by 1. You spend all evening looking at your phone, waiting for a text from Jamie, or a call, or something. Nothing. Your sister doesn’t need much of an explanation and it’s your flat anyway, so she was alright with you and Bea moving in. She made dinner and held Bea, then forcibly made you go to sleep. Her work is flexible, so she said she’d take care of Bea until she had to leave on a trip in two days.

Yet, although you finally had the chance to sleep, you couldn’t. You tossed and turned all night, periodically checking your phone for a text that never came.

—

A week and a half has gone by. Your sister is gone still, so it’s just you and Bea. She’s been crying so much recently, and the thought comes to you unbidden of every time Jamie has held her. She quiets down the moment she’s in his arms like clockwork. You’re running on no sleep and you need to go get groceries so that morning you pack up a diaper bag, put Bea in the car, and force yourself not to care that you look like absolute shit.

You’re almost done shopping when you hear a voice call your name. You turn, and there’s Sam.

“I thought that was you,” he says. “I’ve been meaning to check up on you so I went by your house yesterday, but Jamie said you and Bea were out and he didn’t know when you’d be back. How are you?”

You let out a snort. “Oh he did, did he? That’s rich.”

Sam’s face shifts to concern. “Is everything alright? I don’t mean to pry, but part of the reason I wanted to see how you are is that Jamie has been terrible. He’s been an absolute prick for almost two weeks now and we all just assumed it was lack of sleep.”

You smile, because right now your options are that or cry.

“I’m living in my flat right now. My sister’s on vacation, so it’s just me and Bea. It’s kind of a lot, which is why I look like garbage. I don’t have time to clean or anything either, otherwise I’d invite you around. Anyway. Thanks for asking. Good to see you, Sam.”

You walk away before you either overshare more or start crying, and in your haste you don’t see Sam watching you leave, concern written all over his face.

—

It’s the late afternoon when you hear a knock on your door. It’s Jamie your heart says, but when you open it, Sam, Dani, and Richard are standing on the step laden down with grocery bags, huge smiles on their face.

Before you can say anything, Sam says, “I hope this is not overstepping, but I noticed you had frozen meals in your cart this morning. I was thinking that we could cook you some meals to keep in the freezer, that way you do not have to worry about it.” You open your mouth to protest when Dani interjects. “Besides, we’re a family. Bea is my favorite niece and you are my second favorite sister. We should have seen if you needed help earlier.”

They look so sincere that you smile for the first time in a while and move to let them in. Richard goes to work clearing space in the kitchen while Sam and Dani organize their groceries. It looks like they’ve all gotten ingredients from their native countries, and Dani holds up a bag of chiles and says, “I brought these to make your favorite!”

You’re not sure how he knows of your love for chile rellenos, but he does and as you go to sit on the couch to feed Bea, you feel something close to relief.

Bea is done eating and the kitchen is filled with light conversation and music when there is another knock on your door.

You open it to see Isaac, Colin, Zoreaux, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas all decked out in cleaning gear and rubber gloves, holding various cleaning sprays, brooms, and mops.

To say you are speechless is an understatement.

“Sam texted us,” Isaac says. “Said something about needing a cleaning service and a babysitter.”

You let them in without a word.

The flat is filled with chatter as they stand around the living room.

“Alright!” Isaac calls. “We’re going to divide and conquer! Colin, you’re on laundry. Zoreaux, you’re sweeping and mopping. Bumbercatch and Jan Maas, you’re on bathroom duty. Alright lads, let’s go!”

“Isaac,” Colin says, “what’s your job?”

Isaac looks at him. “I’m the captain, mate. I’m watching Bea.”

Groans go up from the boys and a chorus of “We want to hold her, why do you get to, I’m her favorite!” when Isaac silences them with an “Oi!”

“When you’ve finished your job and Bea and I have thoroughly inspected them, then maybe you can hold her after you’ve disinfected your hands and arms. Now get to it!”

“Isaac,” you say, pulling on his arm, “you don’t have to do this. Especially not the laundry or the bathrooms.”

He looks down at you, serious look on his face. “Is that for privacy reasons, or are you trying not to impose?”

You hesitate and debate lying. In the end, you tell the truth: “I don’t care about like privacy or whatever, it’s just gross. I don’t want you guys to have to do that.”

Isaac doesn’t respond, just says, “Can I wear the wrap?” so you go to get it and watch as he expertly puts it on and slides Bea in. She lets out a sigh and falls asleep on his chest.

“Right then. Now for your job,” he says to you.

You let out a singular laugh. “What do you have for me, captain?”

“I want you to go to your room, clear off the bed, close the door, and go to sleep. I’ll send Sam or Colin up to wake you if we need you. If you end up sleeping through then night, a few of us will stick around to make sure Bea’s alright. You still have Netflix, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to head down the hall then turn and say, “Isaac?”

“Hm?” he replies.

“Thanks. This means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Isaac waves that away then points to your bedroom door.

You walk in and shut the door, then are lulled to sleep by the white noise of having half of the Richmond team in your house cleaning, cooking, and reminding you that you are not alone.

—

You’re woken up by Sam shaking your shoulder. It’s golden hour, so soft light streams through the room. The first thing you notice is how quiet it is. You sit up.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sam says, but he’s not smiling. “We just need you downstairs for a minute.”

You follow him to the living room where the boys are standing behind a couch, arms crossed and backs to you, staring down something on the opposite couch.

Sam clears his throat and they turn to look at you. Bea is still passed out on Isaac in her wrap. They part slightly and you see what they’re looking at.

Jamie Tartt gives you a halfhearted wave from where he sits on your couch.

“Got a minute?” he asks.

Shit.

You sit across from him and just look.

He has the grace to look sheepish. “Look, d’you mind if we talk- like just you and me? Without-” he gestures to the boys.

“No,” Dani, Colin, and Jan Maas chorus, arms crossed, and Jamie nods once in a that’s fair type of way.

Jamie takes a deep breath. “Look, I- I was out with Roy today and we were training, and he called me a prick and he meant it, and maybe I was being a prick, but I shoved him and then he knocked me down and was all ‘what the fuck is wrong with you,’ and I said ‘none of your fucking business,’ and then he said something about a text from Sam and made me tell him what was going on. So I told him that you left and he said,” here Jamie does his best Roy Kent impression, “‘Did she leave or did you fucking kick her out because you were acting like a little bitch prima donna who can’t handle being a grown fucking man?’”

Jamie pauses for a moment. “So I thought about it, and I did fuckin kick you out like I was a little bitch prima donna. And the reason I didn’t text ya or call ya is because I thought you’d come back when you were ready, or maybe you left for good and I fucked something else up. And I didn’t want to be like me dad who was always showing up when my mum didn’t want him to, so I just stayed away. And I said that to Roy and he told me I needed to man the fuck up because I was acting like a whiny brat.” Jamie scratches the back of his neck. “I brought you flowers and came to apologize and tell you that I’m done acting like a kid.”

You squint at him and say, “Apologize for what, exactly?” because you want to know that he knows what he did.

Without hesitation Jamie says, “For telling you that Bea was your job and not mine, and for saying that I didn’t sign up for any of this and making it seem like I didn’t care and saying that I was going to sleep in a hotel by meself.”

Oh. So he does know.

There’s a ripple of whispered oh fucks and you realize that the lads don’t actually know what happened between you and Jamie, and this is the first time they’re hearing about it.

Before you can say anything, Jan Maas says, “How do we know you’ve changed?” followed by a chorus of “Yeah, that’s right,” from the boys.

“Eh, well,” Jamie begins before he is interrupted by a piercing cry from Bea. Isaac tries to hush her, but she just keeps going.

“There’s no way she’s hungry,” he says, “She just had a bottle fifteen minutes ago and I changed her five minutes after that.”

Jamie looks questioningly at you. “Can I-”

The whole team turns to look at you. You nod, and Isaac removes a still crying Bea and gently hands her to Jamie. She’s barely settled into his arms when she has gone completely silent, lets out a sigh, and falls asleep.

“I suppose that is that,” says Richard, and the rest of AFC Richmond shrugs.

“Jamie Tartt,” you say. Everyone looks at you again. “If you ever, and I mean ever pull shit like this again, I will fucking sic this entire room on you and I will call Roy and I will not care how long you end up in the hospital. I can’t raise Bea on my own, but it turns out that I don’t need you.”

Jamie looks like he’s about to cry a little and you soften.

“I don’t need you, but I want you. And- I do miss you.”

Jamie smiles at that and you get up to sit next to him.

The boys murmur amongst themselves, and Isaac salutes you as he herds them out. You mouth thank you to him, and he waves it away yet again, leaving the three of you on the couch in comfortable silence for the first time in weeks.

—

Marriage is not easy, neither is raising a kid. Things didn’t automatically go back to how they were, but you and Jamie did get better. You got better at talking about your struggles, decided 2:30am is not a good time to fight, and began working out a healthy football-life balance. He trains with Roy three times a week instead of six, and Isaac and Colin babysit Bea once a month so you can go out. They’re the only ones besides Rebecca who are allowed to be with her unsupervised. (Not because the others are untrustworthy, but because they don’t know what to do with a baby) so by the time Theodore Dani Tartt comes around, you’ve got this thing nailed.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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angstyantoinette · 11 months

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Yandere alucard please with a fairy darling?

wrote this while in college and severely sleep deprived :))

to the anon that requested this…very sorry for the delay ^^

Yandere! Alucard x GN Fairy Darling

As a Dhamphir, Alucard has a very confused and conflicted view of his own humanity; how his parent’s’ marriage shaped his life and beliefs, which is evident in his own personal experience in the story.

He is part human, “part monster” (as he puts it), and constantly uses both of his sides to try and compensate for his perceived weaknesses and strengths in order to create a balance.

This obsession with balancing his own personal interests, with the ones that he deems unsafe or safe to everyone else years him apart, and Alucard just doesn’t see the point in continuing his act of doing ‘the right thing’- he has nobody to do it for other than himself and the times that Sypha and Trevor come for a visit.

They keep him grounded, his dear friends and comrades; they help him remember the good times and deeds he has given to the world, to the people who were so close to losing their lives. They help him remember and remain alive in the memories of his sacrifices and pains that he had to overcome to murder his own father- the only one left from his childhood. A time that was idyllic, but secluded, kept away from the world and the rest of the scum that had stolen his mothers life.

Things are getting better, that’s what he thinks, as he sweeps through the rubble of his childhood home, it’s sloping walls and crumbling tapestries serving as a testament to a life long past that he can move on from. Things are getting much more complicated, as he tries to sort though the rubble and the familial ruin.

Alucard tries to move past his hurt and past betrayals, but they somehow always come back to bite at him some more, gnaw at his memories of his childhood and turn them into something beyond his control, beyond his pained comprehension.

It doesn't help much that much of the memorials of his past betrayals lay outside of the castle walls, staring out into the vast woods that surround him; and this isolation is a huge part of precisely why he becomes so attached to his darling.

However you meet each other, whichever way that you sweep into Alucard's life you just may as well be signing yourself away to the devil himself-a fitting analogy given the context of the story.

Alucard himself doesn’t mean to cause harm, not in any sense of the word. Everything that he says, does and thinks is the complete opposite, but while he may not be obviously setting out to cause you harm as a person…it doesn’t mean he realises his actions aren’t always right. He may even be self-aware of that fact, and be greatly pained and paranoid about how he makes you feel.

He doesn’t like the fact that he feels this urge to lock you up in his miserable, spindly castle, keep you and your fairy goodness all to himself. He knows it’s selfish, he knows it disgusting of him and yet he reasons and battle and negotiates with himself to try and justify his feelings and actions towards you.

You can beg, you can plead, you can sob and cry but whatever you do will not save you from this fate. You belong to Alucard, and he loves you so deeply, so dangerously that it makes the both of you feel sick. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make him feel sick enough for him to let you go. Let’s face it, who else will love you like he does?

He doesn’t exactly know how to love you right, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t adore you enough to know that you need to be kept away from the rest of the world. You need to rest, to stay with him whilst he admires your beautiful face, your spectral wings and their incredible patterns and own beauty that can only be described as otherworldly.

His kisses are always so desperate. Like he has never tasted anything like your fear Love before. Alucard knows that you get a bit nervous sometimes, but that’s just because you’re shy, isn’t it? He knows exactly what that’s like, the gut-twisting and the rampant heartbeats that he feels.

He’s probably one of the better yanderes to have, in all likelihood, but Alucard isn’t without his flaws, not in the least. He’s paranoid, deathly. He almost trembles at the idea of you getting out of your room to eat something, as he is insistent in bringing it to you. Just so he can double check those windows again.

And you sit sadly on the bed, in all of your finery and wondrous glory, trying your hardest not to sob as your blonde captor strokes your head and whispers his love for you until the moon is high in the sky and you can hear the birds coo outside. Your pointed ears twitch in tired anticipation, silently begging for the birds to come back, help you out of this nightmare.

The birds keep cooing and each night they get further away. They do not come back to help. You are stuck here, with him, forever.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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#yandere #headcanon #writing #x you #yandere castlevania #yandere adrian tepes #yandere alucard #yandere alucard x reader

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thefiery-phoenix · 3 months

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PLATONIC YANDERE SIRIUS BLACK HEADCANONS

Your dad really loved your mother a lot. Loved wasn't really the right word to describe his feelings towards her, it was more of an obsession. But your mother grew fine with it eventually and they had a kid that was you. But because of complications during your birth, your mother passed away which made your father Sirius miserable but he promised himself that he'd take care of you and give you all the love and affection that you were going to be deprived of in life

But sadly his dream was shattered to pieces because of Peter Pettigrew ploy against him and he was soon taken to Azkaban. And as for you, you were raised by your father's best friend Lupin and soon you were sent to Hogwarts

You were two years younger than Harry and when Harry got to know Lupin in the third year, he asked him to just keep an eye out for you but he didn't really tell him who's daughter you were yet. Heck, you didn't even KNOW who your actual father was, till now you thought your dad was Lupin

When Sirius was on the prowl and after all the drama that happened with Harry he finally told him that you were his daughter. And he kept Sirius's word and kept a lookout for you like a protective big brother along with his friends

Sirius started to observe you and his heart ached to be with you but he didn't want to scare you and cause a scene. He'd come and collect you when things died down. You got introduced to Sirius after a while though and he thanked Lupin for taking care of you. You were a bit scared at first since well....he IS THE Sirius Black after all, but you knew that he was innocent now and you decided to give him a chance. You had to admit, he was a pretty cool dad but you didn't want to make Lupin upset so you decided to see them both as your parental figures in your life

However sometimes Sirius made you a bit nervous the way he talked about you like he knew everything about you even if you didn't really remember telling him everything. Oh darling but he knows, he's been watching you and keeping a close eye on you and biting Malfoy and other scumbags who dared to bother you lol. You know... being your protective dad, he's like your guardian angel or dog for that matter lol. And if that slimy slimeball Snivellus decides to give you a hard time since he knows who you're related to, Sirius will have a LOT of things to say to him. And it might also involve his fists and a few hexes too

Now that he's a part of the Order he's even MORE protective of you and part of him doesn't feel like sending you back to Hogwarts with Umbridge and all the other dark stuff going on but Lupin argued with him saying that your education needed to continue. Sirius eventually relented but he still wished he could get to spend more time with you and your shy and cute personality. He made Harry promise that he'd steer you clear from people who'd try to harm you and as much as it pained him to say this, you shouldn't know about the DA (Dumbledore's Army) since it was too risky and dangerous for you

If at all you did manage to find out about it and if you wanted to join, Sirius and Lupin would sit you down and explain gently and patiently why you shouldn't do so. If you're so hell bent on it, he's plucking you out of there regardless of what Lupin says. He wants his daughter to be in one piece and alive, he loves you too much

#platonic yandere sirius black #platonic yandere sirius black x reader #platonic yandere sirius black headcanons #platonic yandere sirius black imagines #platonic yandere sirius black oneshots #platonic yandere sirius black scenarios #yandere sirius black imagines #yandere sirius black oneshots #yandere sirius black x reader #yandere sirius black #dark sirius black x reader #dark harry potter characters x reader #dark harry potter characters #dark harry potter #yandere harry potter scenarios #yandere harry potter imagines #yandere harry potter characters #yandere harry potter x reader #yandere harry potter

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karingu · 11 months

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can i say something about inukik & inukag lol

For context, I’m a latecomer to this series. I just finished it last month in the year 2023. And “Did Inuyasha love Kikyo more or Kagome more?” is sort of a weird debate for me.

Because it's sort of implying that "love" could be quantified or something. Like it’s something you can point your finger at and count. But from my, ahem seasoned expertise, that’s not how it works.

So I want to look at it in a different way.

Let’s get it straight. Love is not quantifiable. Inuyasha loved both Kikyo and Kagome the best way he knew how. He was genuine about both of them. His feelings were earnest and true.

But you can’t deny his love somehow feels... different between the two of them.

So what is it? What is this difference?...

*deep breath* please bear with me I need to get this out of my system

Inuyasha loved Kikyo. But their love felt transactional.

Kikyo showed him kindness, didn't try to kill him, treated him like a normal person for once. But... she was kind of in a sad place in life. In protecting the jewel, she felt robbed of a normal life. So, she asked him one day, "Will you become human and destroy the jewel? For me?" Kind of a tall ask, but I don’t blame her. She was feeling miserable. And Inuyasha's like, "Yes, of course!"

But then she died. And got resurrected. And Inuyasha's like “well shit, now I REALLY need to do something for her. She DIED because of me.” That's really what's driving his love (is it love anymore? idk) at this point. It feels like he's chasing to pay off his debt.

That's what I mean by “transactional.”

Okay, so Inuyasha loved Kagome too. But their love felt unconditional.

Kagome also showed him kindness, didn't try to kill him, treated him like a normal person etc. just like Kikyo. But she doesn’t really need anything from Inuyasha, right. She’s content with her life and all. So... she didn't ask for anything back. She just gave kindness to him and went on her merry way. Ok ya, sometimes she gets a lil grumpy (she’s human) but she always believes in him, trusts him to do the right thing, supports him when he's weak, yada yada... and like, that's it. Inuyasha even tries to make himself look like the bad guy, steals her shards, freakin’ pushes her into the well to get her to go home (cuz he didn’t want her to get hurt anymore), but Kagome comes back HUGGING him LMAO

Kagome is giving him literally nothing but love and trust and support. Not really expecting anything in return. She just wants to see him be his best and do his best. Encourage him during hard times. Even when she sees him with Kikyo lol… Clearly it hurts her and she realizes she caught feelings (oops), but she accepts that about herself and holds on to her desire to support him through and through.

She kinda says to him, "Hey… I know my place (in relation to Kikyo), but I still want to support you. I want to see you smile and be happy. Will you let me stay by your side?"

DAMN. Inuyasha says, "You’ll stay for me?" (well, in the anime in Japanese that's what he literally says, I replayed that scene like 500 times to make sure I heard it right). And she's like ya! Let's go!

CMONNNN. His brain is probably like “NO STOP! I OWE MY LIFE TO KIKYO!” but his heart is already saying “JFC THIS GIRL. I LOVE HER.” And he wants to do everything for her, not because he's indebted to her. It's not a transaction he needs to pay up. He does it because he really wants to.

So like, people making a ruckus about “Inuyasha Loved Kikyo!!!” vs “NO INUYASHA LOVED KAGOME!!” And I’m just sitting here going, uhh. I mean y'all both right! He... loved them both? Hello? And he loved very adorably for both of them. He’s such an honest lover.

But the circumstances in which he loved each girl are totally different.

With Kikyo, the circumstances were pretty dire. They were both deprived of something important to them. Her, a normal life. Him, just basic love and affection. They weren’t able to love each other with no strings attached bc they both still had stuff internally to deal with (her: the need to be liberated & him: insecurity). But, regardless, they shared a special bond that can’t be replaced. That’s a given.

Kagome... gave him better circumstances to love. Her love made him feel light. It felt so good and positive. She taught him a lot on what it means to trust and love someone unconditionally. He could show her all his ugly and she accepts that about him. She helped him meet lifelong friends too, Miroku, Sango, Shippo... And he really treasures her for that. They also shared a special bond that can’t be replaced, literally no one can replace bc he basically screams out loud (in the Meido) she is his soulmate. :’) suh cute

I think at the end, yeah, Kikyo might’ve got some smooches and our InuKag friends are like D: But… I’m romantic ace so maybe I see it differently, but it’s just a kiss. I never doubted that the only kiss that would truly make his eyes light up, the only kiss that could cause his entire soul to leap out of his own mouth and stun him into silence, is a kiss with Kagome. And Rumiko Takahashi did that without actually providing us a kiss scene (in the manga).

Takahashi made me trust Inuyasha like how he and Kagome trust each other. :((((

That’s... incredible. Standing ovation character building 👏🏼

#that's it #let’s just all love each other okay #i'm done with this fiasco #inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #kikyo #inukik #inukag #inuyasha anime #inuyasha manga #my:posts #my:inumeta

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the1975attheirverybest · 6 months

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10 things Matty does as a dad

A/n: the brain rot will not stop so….

Warnings: none

————

Freak out at the hospital when the nurse hands him his newborn baby for the first time. “Oh gosh what if I drop her.” “Oh she’s so small. How can a person be so small.” “hi little one. I’m your daddy it’s so good to meet you.” “I love you already.”

Gets up every single time the baby does. Even though he and the wife have a schedule and it hinges upon one of them being awake and alert when the other isn’t. So it defeats the purpose for him to wake up every time but he insists he’d just feel guilty if he kept sleeping while his wife and child are awake at night.

Takes a year off from work. No producing. No writing for other artists. No 1975 stuff. He might scribble stuff down or try ideas if something comes to him. But he’s not like actively trying to make a record at all. So, he stays with the baby at home all day when the missus gets back to work and gets really into baby nutrition. Reading books on obscure health benefits of rare oils and extracts. Tries to buy a bunch of them online.

Oh the online shopping. When it’s late at night and he’s rocking the baby back to sleep and he’s kinda sleep deprived, he makes questionable decisions. Buys every toy that markets itself as “educational.” Or important to kids cognitive development or whatever. His missus has to institute a rule where they need to donate 2 old toys for each new toy they purchase.

The pediatrician tells him that talking and reading to the baby is important in order to make sure they acquire the strongest vocabulary by age 3. So he starts to read to her regularly. First, it’s children’s books. But then it progresses to whatever he can find around the house. Grocery lists, the blender manual, song lyrics, emails. He even does different voices and sound effects to keep things interesting.

He asks his baby girl for her input on music even before she’s old enough to understand what she’s really saying. “Come here, daddy wants to show you something. What do you think? You like it?”

Let’s her design tour posters/ album cover/ merch graphics

Establishes a regular dad-daughter date. Even when she’s an infant. A whole day of just the two of them. It starts out as just him needing to prove to himself that he could take care of her all day without asking for help from anyone. But he just keeps doing it as time goes by. It becomes a bonding experience. As she grows up, they start to use this time to talk about school, what she’s into, her friends, etc.

Cries when she’s sick. The missus will be like “matty, children get the sniffles sometimes. She’ll be okay. This is fine. Necessary even! For her immune system.” But he’s just like “she’s so miserable and can hardly breathe poor girl.” He’s practically a mess when she gets the chickenpox. All his memories of getting it or watching his brother get it mean nothing to him. He acts as if his kid is the first and last one to ever get sick on parent earth.

He watches YouTube tutorials to learn to do various hair styles just to impress her by offering her options when she asks him to help her do her hair for school in the morning.

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pigeonwit · 10 months

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In all honesty, Jack does kind of like the piano music upstairs – perhaps it’s a little invasive, but screw it, it’s kind of nice, especially when he’s caught up in his painting bliss and can allow himself to lean back and drift away on twinkling keys, or when he’s spacing out when he’s cooking and needs a rhythm to sway to, as if it were holding him by the waist as he did so.

(Crutchie had raised a brow when Jack shamefully admitted that to him this over their weekly coffee meet.

“Dude.” He’d said, dry and deadpan and entirely done with Jack’s shit. “You need a date.”

“Wh- fuck you, you need a date!” Jack had spluttered indignantly - and Crutchie’d only grinned and waggled a napkin adorned with not one, but two phone numbers from the hot and terrifying baristas he’d said no more than three words to.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“No, dear Jack-a-boy, we’re trying to find a way to fuck you, here – try to keep up.”)

Putting Crutchie’s youngest-sibling bullshit aside – as it stands now, Jack is hung over and miserable and not in the mood to be woken up at ass-o-clock in the morning (ten-thirty, a more than reasonable time to play piano on a lazy Sunday, but still, fuck Piano Guy, fuck the world, fuck everything, God, his head kills) and he is going to make it everyone’s business.

“You have neighbours…” Jack groans, nowhere near loud enough for Piano Guy to hear him, as he pounds the handle of a broom against his ceiling. “Stop with the Mozart!”

There’s a pause, one that Jack will feel more guilty about when his brain isn’t pulsing out of his skull – he waits for a second, then two, then ten, and breathes a sigh of relief, about to flop back into his bed and let the bliss of sleep reclaim him-

And then the keys start plinking again, fast and staccato and horribly major-scale and – oh, son of a bitch.

Right. Jack rolls his shoulders back, cricking his neck into place and immediately wincing, but that’s not important – what’s important is that no upstairs-person smartass is going to play Dear Evan Hansen at him while he’s hungover and expect it not to mean war.

He tries everything he could possibly muster in his pathetic, sleep deprived state – which of course means he smacks the ceiling with his broom for a good five minutes, and that gets him nothing but a medley of songs that vaguely mention knocking – from Waving Through a Window to Crash! to that one part of Michael in the Bathroom to an old vaudeville Jack remembers from Medda’s theatre, about five and a half years ago. It’s good, honestly – perfect, exactly how he remembered it, capturing the melody he kept stumbling over and losing in his own head, and sending a pang down to the soft and tender part of his chest where his nostalgia lies – but it is not enough to make Jack not hate him.

(It is enough to make him forget about his headache until halfway through Joan Jett’s Bad Reputation, but Jack decides to put a pin in that for now. He has a neighbour to destroy.)

After that resounding failure, Jack spends the next day blasting music from his own speakers, starting from the nichest heavy metal band he can find on Crutchie’s playlists until he’s belting Before He Cheats at the top of his lungs. Jack’s about to count it as a win – he’s not sure if Piano Guy’s still playing, but he certainly can’t hear him, at least – until his next door neighbour, an adorably sweet volunteer at the local pet shelter, knocks on his door and threatens to feed him to a hoard of chihuahuas. Jack almost would’ve let the whole feud go on that threat alone, if Piano Guy didn’t start playing Anything You Can Do in the smuggest key Jack can fathom the second she left.

So Jack, in his infinitely petty wisdom, follows in his sweet mother’s footsteps and writes a strongly worded note.

dear piano guy,

please christ stop playing your pretty boy music all day or i swear to god i am going to make the most osb obscene sex noises you can possibly imagine until you stop.

love B7

He’s snickering to himself the moment he hears Piano Guy’s door open. He tracks his steps across the ceiling, sneaking into his own bedroom as if Piano Guy would somehow be in Jack’s apartment rather than one floor above. He can hear the scrape of a chair, the slightest plink of a key or two – hesitant, almost, which sparks a soft feeling in Jack’s stomach that he can’t identify – and then a clash of five different notes, as if a whole hand had smashed against the keys by pure mistake. There’s a long, pronounced pause – Jack can hardly contain his snickering – until he hears the pounding notes of Rihanna’s S&M, and realizes two things very quickly.

Thing One: Piano Guy, for all his flaws, somehow possesses a sense of humour – a good one, at that – meaning that Piano Guy is a real, actual, potentially decent person, and isnot just some invisible stuff-shirted maestro Jack’s been insisting on hating for one incident when he was hungover.

Thing Two: listening to someone passionately playing the piano above Jack’s bed immediately after threatening sex noises upon them is giving Jack some terrible, terrible realizations about who he is as a person.

#i really... REALLY dont like this one but i gotta practice my jack voice somehow #dont like it! feels way too... cosmo-esque? but i'm barrelling towards a writing slump and i gotta write something so. we stay silly #anywhore.#newsies #uksies #javid #javey #jack kelly #david jacobs #davey jacobs #pigeon scribbles

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nyimasu · 1 year

Text

WHITE ROSE — GOJŌ SATORU X FEM!READER

— CW : jjk verse, dom/sub dynamics, sub!gojō, sensory deprivation, shibari, dacryphilia, impact play (one tiny slap), degradation kink, orgasm delay, slight praise kink, riding, geto is here just for the funsies (sort of)

— WORD COUNT : 1.3k┊AO3 LINK

NOTE : this can be intended as a follow up of this fic or as a stand-alone piece... what truly matters is that in my mind, most of the times gojō is a brat and he needs to be tamed + I gave a certain knot a personal twist, hope you don't mind ehe

enjoy!

“Oh, looks like you’re about to cry. Are you about to sob your eyes out for me? Go on,” a soft peck at his nose, followed by a sultry laugh.

“I want you to cry for me.”

As restless as ever, he tugs at the knots constricting his entire body, testing their durability. It’s useless to resist it.

You mastered the art of shibari, going to unimaginable lengths to do it, just to come back at him for every snarky remark he’s made about you being too "harsh" on Suguru rather than him. Not that you’ve never tamed his brattier side softly, on the contrary.

Gojo wants more, and you're more than happy to comply.

This time it’s sweeter than ever because his Six Eyes had been put to rest by your capable, soft hands. They are wrapped in a silk blindfold, and not only physically speaking. Your cursed energy always rivals his, and he’s so busy catching up with it that you have your way with his body anytime you want.

Satoru’s ache for obedience is eternal, as much as Suguru’s resolution to see him crumble beneath you.

Geto’s purple gaze is set on you two as a breathy whisper fans over your face. “May I?”

You comply with another kiss on his face, sparing a brief, victorious look to your other boyfriend sitting on the chair across the bedroom.

Today it’s his body under yours that’s chanting, caged by dark ropes adorning his taut muscles. Hands and arms tied behind his heaving torso, legs spread open on either side of your bed, blocked by the ankles and knots covering his delicate skin right up his thighs. You left nothing to chance.

You’re particularly proud of the intricate pattern around his crotch, starting from the apex of his beautiful, tensed thighs to then descend further between them. At its core, the threads had entrapped Gojo’s cock in a web. Not too tight, not too loose, either.

Perfect to have him always a breath away from fleeing his skin.

Better than a cock ring was what your kinbaku master whispered in your ear during your last session with them. A mischievous grin was painted all over their face as you finally tugged at the needed knot, and a satisfied laugh had left you as you stepped back to take in the view.

At that moment, you knew you had to try it out with your bratty boyfriend.

The sound of a belt hitting the floor pushes you to look over your shoulder and see Suguru’s hand slip under his boxers, eyes transfixed on the white-haired sorcerer as he mutters, stern in his words, “Satoru, what makes you think you can call the shots today?”

You return to the man under you and despite the blindfold, Gojo turns his head your way.

And right after that, you feel his hips bucking into yours, frustration gnawing at his insides. Geto had caught the action before you did, but it doesn’t matter.

Stilling yourself on him, you cup Satoru’s face with a hand, while the other one grabs the ropes around his cock, twitching when you finally give it a few squeezes. Gojo throws his head back in delight and desperation and you hear Geto curse under his breath, stroking himself faster to completion.

“Aw, you’re not satisfied with what I planned for you?” you coo in faux sadness, digits brushing the base of his length as Gojo grits his teeth, on the verge of coming with just your hands on him. But your touch disappears right then and he bends his head forward again, eyes pricking with big, clear droplets of violent desire. He’s miserable.

“But everything I did is for you. Pretty knots for my pretty slut,” you carry on without pauses, lips on his ear shell as you finally exhale on it. “But you’re not the one in charge tonight. I am.

You’ll come when I say so, yes?”

“Yes.” he answers right away and tears soak the silk blindfold until your kiss on Gojo’s mouth makes him squirm. It feels like a reward, a small one.Now that he’s obliged, you can give in to what he needs the most.

His pearly locks are the perfect place for your fingers to roam in, so you indulge the feeling after you get rid of the oversized shirt you have on. And then without warning you ease yourself on his constrained cock, sighing as you bottom out and Satoru follows suit.

You can’t see it, too enticed with Gojo’s lovely strings of praises for you washing over your body, but Geto is a step closer to his orgasm with every bounce, every stroke you graced Satoru with. His fingers match your ministrations and he lets himself go as you do, chanting Gojo’s name as he whimpers yours, the man relying only on the feeling of his walls clenching around him and the warmth of your body on his. Geto’s eyes are tainted with the ugly shade of jealousy now.

Next time, he’s going to be under your care and Gojo will watch.

Judging by how much his knuckles stand up against the black armchairs of the armchair when your hazed gaze meets Suguru’s, he’s enjoyed the show as much as you had. But it isn’t over.

“Please, baby, I-I…” Satoru is begging at this point and you dip your head towards him again, elated to hear what he’s about to say.

“Yes?” you retort, patient.

Another squeeze of your pussy around his dick finally has his craving for a release to speak on his behalf.

“C-Can I come inside you, please? I want to feel you around me.”

The little “of course, pretty boy” you let out on his face, followed by a sharp smack on his tensed thigh, is music to his ears, and the strongest sorcerer shatters in an exhausted sob suppressed by the pillow under his head, face half hidden in it as his cosy, thick cum fills your still aching pussy. His hips buck into yours and you let him, for you enjoy watching him get off on the sensation of your pretty cunt swallowing him whole.

You watch in awe as he comes down from his own orgasm, and before any of you can even say something, your fingers fumble with the knot behind his nape, untying and throwing it on the floor.

When the dim light of the bedroom hits him, he squints his eyes until he identifies Suguru’s silhouettes near him. “Our beautiful white rose is still surrounded by black thorns. Let me help.”

Blue orbs locked on him, Satoru’s breathe hits Geto as the other sorcerer takes out a small knife and cuts a particular knot close to the thigh, kissing his cheek in the process.

The ropes fall around Gojo like heavy shreds of darkness and he goes to talk. His voice is still laced with need, he can almost taste it, but it dies in his throat when your lips crash against his, the intensity of it so overwhelming Satoru moans in your mouth.

But then he remembers his arms are free, and when Suguru frees his legs, too, you see the sorcerer’s Six Eyes snap back to reality.

“You are sublime.” Satoru breathes on your neck and he flips you over in a split second, not giving you the time to tumble off of him yourself. The shift in position elicits a startled gasp from you and a small chuckle from Geto. He’s actually the one to place a thumb under your lower lip, prying it open as Gojo feverishly leaves a trail of wet kisses on your neck.

You’re out of breath, big eyes staring at them as the men smirk, desire clouding their eyes as Satoru looks up at you and says,

“How about we tie you up now while I fuck your ass and Geto takes your pussy?

It’s only fair, isn’t it?”

#voice of cassandra #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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simp999 · 1 year

Text

Short Lived.

Pairing: Ken Midori x Reader

Series: Beyblade Burst

Wc: 5.4k (help)

A/N: A new friend got me back into beyblade and I needed to write for my old beloved. (Sorry splatoon manga fans, I'm still working on the next chapter!)

A/N 2: I know that the beyblade fans don't vibe on tumblr for the most part, but I am deprived of beyblade fanfic. Take it

Warnings: Ends with fluffy angst (Might make Ch.2 if anyone wants.)

Themes: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers(?)-Not officially lovers but like c'mon now

Masterlist

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips as you cut the loose threads from the glove you’re trying to sew back together.

Last night, you had been training with your bey, but it seemed your glove had had enough of the years of sweat, abuse, and regular washes that it had gone through, and gave up on you. It had gotten you through many wins, and you doubt you’d find another just as comfortable since this one is now worn perfectly to your launching hand. You remembered that your school left the home ec. class open after hours, so you figured you’d give attempting to fix your glove a shot, which obviously wasn’t going well. The threads were too far apart, then too loose, then they just looked so badly done, you were ready to give up and buy a new one. Before you were able to fully get up from your seat, a boy came up to you - a brown puppet on one hand, and blue on the other.

The brown one began to talk in a goofy voice; “Hi there! Would you like some help? This guy here likes to think he’s pretty good at sewing.” The blue one cut him off, in a drastically different voice, “Yeah, ya seem to be strugglin’ a bit there.”

You could only stare at the person in amazement. What a skilled ventriloquist! Not only can he speak with minimal movement from his mouth, but he can switch voices so quickly!

You dismiss your thoughts, remembering the situation at hand. You get a little flustered after examining how badly you managed to mess up your stitching this time, accepting the kind stranger’s offer.

“Yeah… That’d actually be really nice.”

The boy takes a seat in the chair beside you, making sure to keep some distance between you two. He takes off his puppets and places them on the table with care, reaching a hand out toward your glove, silently asking to borrow it. You hand the beaten and well-used glove over, and he carefully but efficiently undoes the miserable stitching that you did. It doesn’t take long before it’s all gone, and you’re mesmerised by the way he so quickly threads the needle and pokes it through the fabric, making seemingly perfect lines. You see that he’s not doing the usual stitch, and you study the way he continues for a bit. He gets about a third through the small hole in the glove before handing it back to you, putting his puppets back on his hands to explain how to do this new stitch. A backstitch. He explains how to do it with maximum efficiency, and tells you that this stitch is great for reinforcing the area, which is exactly what you need.

You’re much slower, and the lines are obviously less straight than his, but this is far better than any previous attempts. He waits for you, pointing out when you begin to put too much space between the holes, or any other details. In the meantime, he introduces himself. Well, the puppets introduce themselves and him. You smile at how cute Keru and Besu are, and marvel at their unique personalities. You quickly learn that Ken’s puppets are very important to him, and that he’s obviously been doing this type of thing since he was young. His skills only further prove that, for both sewing and ventriloquism.

You only notice that you’ve been looking at Ken a little too long when he brings Besu’s little hand up to his face to ‘wipe’ Ken’s cheek, Besu asking if there’s something stuck there. Your face heats up, realizing your mistake, and you quickly assure him that you’re just heavily impressed by his ventriloquism skills. You can see slight surprise cross his face, it seems people don’t often see how difficult his skill really is. Besu thanks you, while Keru boasts about how long Ken’s been practicing for. He gets on to mentioning his puppet shows, and the two of you talk for a bit. It’s cut short when you sheepishly ask him if he can tie the final knot for you.

You try on your glove on the way home, trying to remember all the little details of the person you just met. The spikey, fluffy-looking black hair he had, the comfortable green color scheme, even his little snaggle tooth was hard to miss. It felt like you two spoke for hours, even though it was only probably 20 or so minutes. The sun is halfway through setting, and you find yourself wanting to see him again. You’re sure he went to the same school, it was simply unlucky that he and you had separate classes.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

You spent the next couple of days paying more attention to your surroundings at school. Taking the longer routes to classes, walking around during lunch, and even getting out of class a couple of minutes early so you could try to wait at the front door. No luck.

You didn’t really have anyone to hang out with, your - acquaintances at best - having their closer friends to hang out with. You didn’t mind, but there was something about the puppeteer that had you wanting more of his presence. He just seemed so… kind, and comforting.

With no luck from your attempts, you decide to test out the bey stadium on top of the school. You heard rumors of it, but never bothered trying it out, favoring the one at the park and the one you had at home- you and your dad had built it.

Before turning the corner, you heard the all too familiar sound of a bey spinning. You contemplated even going, but you were interested in potentially finding another skilled blader.

A boy with white hair and a black vest is fully concentrated on the red bey before him. You could bet that he’s counting the seconds that it’s spinning for, so you wait to make your presence known so as to not distract him. It spins for an impressive amount of time, and you wait for him to stand up and wipe the sweat from his forehead before approaching him.

“Can I help you?”

“I doubt it, but do you happen to know where I can find a boy named Ken? He wears mostly green, has two puppets-”

“Oh, Ken Midori. I believe he has a puppet show starting sometime soon in the main area of the mall.”

He finally looks at you head-on, and you recognize him. He’s known to be an extremely skilled blader, supposedly the best at school. Shu Kurenai. You pretend to not know him, and you thank him for his time before making your way to the mall. You’ve always tried to keep your beyblading lifestyle on the down-low, changing up your appearance in battle and only really practicing alone. Beyblading isn’t your only personality trait.

You smile at all the little kids who are sat down in front of the booth, and imagine all the thankful parents who can finally get somewhat of a break. The story follows an over-confident but weak hero who can’t manage to beat a dragon. Help arrives, and you’re quick to recognize the two puppets and their voices. Your smile grows, and you excitedly wait for the end. No, not the end of the cute story being played, you’re excited to go see the boy managing those two adorable puppets. Though, the story is still engaging and fun. They sure are experienced at what they do.

The puppets bow to their audience, and the curtains close. While kids begin to shuffle through the crowd to meet up with their parents, you carefully make your way over to the booth, watching out for any green and black. A lady comes up to you and asks if she can help with anything, and you see that she has a puppet on one of her hands, one from the show.

“Oh, yes! I’m looking for Ken?”

She nods and calls out his name, and the boy makes his way over to the lady, only spotting you afterward. Besu’s the first to talk:

“Oh! You made it to our show!”

“I was pretty sharp out there, right?!” Keru intervenes, and Besu doesn’t want to feel left out, so the two begin some light banter. Ken breaks it up by giving his two puppets a glare, then he makes them bow their heads, as if they felt bad. You stifle a laugh at the scene before you, happy that you got your own mini show. Ken’s smile slightly grows, and his mother notices, so she tries to give him a little push.

“How about you two go hang out for a while? We’ve got everything covered here, and that’s the last show of the night. As long as Ken’s home by 8:30.”

You bring your hands together to play with the hem of your sleeve, feeling bad about taking her kid away for a bit.

“I don’t mind helping if you’d like?”

“Don’t worry about it, you two go have fun!”

The two of you stand in silence as his mom leaves. Ken’s not sure if he should be frustrated or thankful that his mom just threw him right outside his comfort zone, but either way, he’s stuck with you now.

You check the time on your phone, 6:07.

“We’ve got a couple hours, is there anywhere you’d like to go? Or… We are already at the mall, if you’d like to just walk around?”

Ken admits through Besu that he never really got to check out the mall. You’ve lived in this city your whole life, which means you know this mall quite well. You’re quick to drag him, metaphorically, to your favorite stores that you think he’d like. The two of you find some stickers you like, some shirts, and anything else you find interesting that’s also reasonably priced. You surprise him with a keychain of a cartoon-y dog that looks an awful lot like Besu. He looks happy to receive it, Besu doing a little dance while holding it between his little paws, but Keru crosses his arms and huffs.

You turn around to show him a keychain that you already had attached to your bag, which resembled Keru. Keru’s attitude quickly changes, remarking that he’s the better one because you have his keychain. He and Besu get into another small fight, and you’re once again reminded of Ken’s amazing skill as a ventriloquist.

The night flies by, but you’ve definitely gotten more comfortable with each other. This time, you didn’t forget to exchange contact information, so now you two can plan meet-up times. Once you wave goodbye to Ken, he stands in the middle of the quiet mall, feeling the same way you did after your first meeting. He’s never had a friend before, and he’s deciding that he’d be happy to have you as his first.

For the next few months, the two of you began hanging out outside of class. You introduce him to places you enjoy, finding out that he really likes this one clear opening in the woods not too far from your home. You went once during the day, finally trusting him enough to show him your special comfort spot. There are lots of flowers, and you even added fairy lights and a few blankets to lay on, thanks to your mom. When moving the branches away from your face and holding them away for Ken, you explain that you like to come here when you want a break from reality, or to just enjoy nature as it is.

“People are always so bombarded with lights, buildings, cars, loud noises, and the like, so we don’t often get to have 'us' time. It’s much prettier at night, we should try to convince your mom to let you stay out a bit later one night. Maybe on a weekend?”

“We often have lots of plays on the weekends, but I think our first one for next Sunday is later in the day, so if we go next Saturday night after the play it should work.” He still uses his puppets to speak, and you still love them just as much as the first day they spoke to you. They are really cute and fun, after all.

“Alright, a week and a half from now, then! Don’t forget!” Ken nods, excited to see what this place looks like at night. It seems you put lots of care into the surrounding area.

The next day, you had planned to meet up after school. At the end of your last class of the day, you get a text from your favorite ventriloquist saying his club is having an emergency meeting. You were really hoping to hang out with him, and you wouldn’t mind if there are other people around, so you ask if his club would be okay with you lingering around. He thinks about it, and figured that his friends wouldn’t mind, so the two of you meet up and you follow him to the roof.

You quietly follow behind him, a little nervous about meeting his friends. You wouldn’t usually be like this, but these are Ken’s friends, so there was a good chance you’d be seeing them time and time again.

The first one to pep up is a boy with short, blond hair, he seems to be pretty eccentric. His energy is really fun and he gives off good vibes, it feels like being around him could put you in a better mood overall, which is nice. You wave at him after he points you out, and he gives you a bright grin. You notice Shu nod at you, you’re surprised he must have remembered you. The next to speak is a shorter boy with dark blue hair, and it’s a little hard to make out what he’s saying thanks to how fast he’s talking. Something about asking if you’re Ken’s friend, then about blading.

What was that about blading? It seems the friend group quieted down after he asked you the question, also wanting an answer. Noticing your lost expression, the blondie from earlier repeats his friend’s question.

“Do you do any beyblading?”

You could tell them, but you don’t like it when your name gets out there.

“Not that much.”

“But you have a bey?”

“...Yeah.”

The blue-haired boy is quick to challenge you to a battle, but you’re not really feeling up to it. You’re not a big fan of showing off your skills to any unnecessary opponents. You don’t also want to make a fool of yourself. The ‘meeting’ goes on, and they discuss an upcoming tournament. The plan for this meeting is just to battle. They introduce themselves to you one by one, then decide that they’re going to do a tournament-style set of battles. They don’t have enough players for it to start out evenly, though. They manage to convince you to join, and you agree on the condition that you get to battle Ken in the first round. It’s the only way you’d be able to hold back.

Anyone else and you’d end up with a quick and effortless burst finish.

Valt’s up first against Honcho- or Rantaro, you’re not sure which name to use since he introduced himself as Honcho, but all the others called him Rantaro. You’re surprised at how much skill is shown before you, you may have underestimated these players. Not like it matters, though. It’s then Shu against Daigo, and you already know the outcome before it starts. Finally, you end up against Ken.

You both take your positions, and you opt to not do any strength-inducing launches, so you keep it basic. You already know exactly how this match is going to do. Your eyes flicker up from the stadium to Ken, and he looks really focused on where he intends to send his bey. He makes it all too obvious that he’s going straight to the center. You barely give the launch 15% of your power, and you let him win with a survivor finish.

As if you’d have the heart to hurt him - Well, his ego. You congratulate him on the win, and remind the gang that you don’t blade that much, with a hand stretching the back of your head and a half-smile.

“No worries! At least now our tournament can continue!”

You lean back on the bench, examining the players’ battle styles. You focus mainly on Ken’s of course, and he’s a lot stronger than you had anticipated. You watch the battle between him and Valt, the underdog pulling through. It almost looked like a stroke of complete luck that he’d won against Ken, but as much as you’d like to say that, an experienced blader’s eyes like yours could catch the hidden skill that Valt has.

He comes and sits beside you, encouraging his friends. You tag along, rooting for them. Daigo sits on the other side of you, since there isn’t anywhere else to sit and his legs are tired. The two of you don’t exchange any words, but you gain a mutual respect for each other. You like his style, and he approves of you as Ken’s friend, you seem like a good pair to him. He won’t say that aloud, though.

That weekend, Ken calls you to see if you can hang out. You try your best to never turn him down, even ditching plans just to hang out with him, but you’ve got a battle in a tournament that you can’t miss. You feel bad about it, but it can’t be helped. You tell him that you’re busy, and he assures you that it’s alright and he’ll just go watch his friends battle.

You throw on your hood and a cloth facemask, adjusting the elastics on the sides to be comfortable. This mask is really breathable, and has a cool design that consists of two rows of cartoony sharp teeth. It’s perfect for concealing your identity while you blade.

Your opponent is already up on stage when you walk up, Hanami announcing you as the Mysterious blader, only known as X. You take a glance at the crowd, there seems to be more people showing up at your battles as time goes on. You refuse to go easy when it comes to important battles, so you steady your arms and plant your feet for maximum power.

3, 2, 1, LET IT RIP!

The crowd cheers, and your hood slips down from the force of your launch. That’s why the mask is important. The hand resting next to your hips subtly brings up three fingers. Then it hides one. One left. As you bring down your index, the opponent’s bey bursts. Six seconds, it seems you were feeling generous today.

Another quick glance at the crowd was intended only to observe their reaction, but your eyes caught someone unexpected. He wasn’t supposed to be here. The puppets on his hands seemed to be as surprised as him, their mouths wide open. Before he can make any sort of movement as your eyes linger on him, you shuffle over to the changing room. You try to be subtle when you leave, checking around corners before walking past, but that someone still manages to find you. He runs up to you, hugging you excitedly, but still gently, from behind, having Besu voice his excitement.

“I knew it was you!”

Keru’s quick to add on,

“Why didn’t ya go all out against Ken, though? You’re a really strong blader!”

You take a quick look around, making sure that nobody else is in the area before taking off the mask and hoodie.

“I wanna keep it on the down low. Getting challenged left and right isn’t too fun. And I didn’t have the heart to go all out.”

The last part was muttered, but Ken heard it. He chose to ignore it, though.

“You don’t enjoy lots of battles?” Besu sounded like he was a mix of sad and curious.

“Well, I’ll be honest, I underestimated your friends. I didn’t think they’d be fun to battle, but I might just have to one of these days. I’ll only do it in a competition, though.”

Ken nods, then stands still for a second. It seems there’s a lot running through his mind. His smile grows all of a sudden, and he hugs you again.

“We need to battle for real sometime, okay?”

You embrace the hug, then let go, with your hands still on his hips. You nod, agreeing to it. You may not have the heart to go all out right away, but you’re sure that if you do it enough, one day you two could have a really all-out, fun battle. The two of you have to go separate ways since it’s dinner time, but not before you promise to battle him often.

As you walk off, he finds himself staring at you in amazement. That opponent surely wasn’t weak, you were already a couple of rounds deep in the tournament. He had come to watch the previous battle, which featured Valt, but ended up staying because he was curious about Valt’s possible future opponents. He had gotten quite the reality check instead, realizing how awesome his friend is. Yeah…friend.

That moment, Ken makes a big decision: 'That’s going to have to change. Next weekend.'

The next couple of days go by as usual, having lunch with the beyclub, and hanging out with Ken a couple of times throughout the week. Although, It’s hard to miss the way he seems to slowly inch closer to you when he’s near you, or how he may have messaged you a little more often than usual, asking how you were or if you remembered to eat.

But Tuesday, that all stopped. He went quiet. You didn’t receive a 'Good morning, see you at school!' text. He didn’t have Besu pitch into the conversation, nor did he have Keru butt in with any snarky remarks during the beyclub battles after school. He still answered when spoken to, but he seemed very… out of it. Dazed? Like he had something else on his mind. You were worried about him, especially since you planned on hanging out with him in a couple of days. You have been planning this late-night meeting for a while now, and you really hoped that he still intended on coming.

But he didn’t move away when you moved closer to him, and he didn’t flinch when you put your hand in his and rubbed your thumb against it. You wanted him to know that you’d be there for him, no matter what. You wanted to so badly tell him that you- no. That can wait.

The night finally came. The sun was almost done setting, and Ken still hadn’t made it to your house yet. Now this was getting worrying. After debating for a few minutes, you finally sent him a text.

[“Hey, we’re still on tonight, right?”]

[“Of course, I’m on my way.”]

You let out a sigh of relief, unsure of why you ever doubted him. Of course you could trust him, he was the person that you were closest to, the person you cared about the most.

You look up from your dark phone screen when you hear hurried footsteps. Ken speaks through Besu, telling you that his mom wanted help deep-cleaning the house. You give him a nod, and you gently grab his hand, (you grab Keru?), and lead him to your favorite clearing. You move the branches away, being careful as to not let them smack Ken when you let go.

Ken doesn’t notice that you two have made it to the clearing until you announce it, probably because the fairy lights weren’t on. You lead him to the blanket, getting him to make himself comfortable before finally turning on the lights with a “ta-daaa~”

You had meant for all this to feel a little silly, wanting to get rid of the tense atmosphere, but you immediately saw just about every worry leave Ken’s eyes as the lights flickered on. It’s like he was finally made aware of how dreamy the world could be, and it almost seemed as if his eyes twinkled when they met yours.

Must have just been the lights.

You sit beside him, eventually deciding to lie down once your arms got too strained from holding yourself up. The only thing filling the silence was the quiet buzzing of any nearby bugs, and the crickets. Ken let himself fall from his sitting position not too long after you did, and he was quick to pull you close to him. Impossibly close, even, as he had your head laying on his chest.

He’s never been this bold before, and you can easily tell that he’s nervous with how hard his heart is beating. You snuggle closer, if possible, and you’re almost on the brink of falling asleep. Before you can though, the fairy lights die out, allowing you to see the infinite amount of stars above you. There’s no better time than now.

“Hey.”

Ken slightly adjusts his head so his eyes can meet yours, but you don’t share his glance.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

His breath hitches. You catch the way his chest no longer moves up and down, and your lips waver, afraid you may have made a mistake. He most definitely understood what was implied, his reaction making it a dead giveaway.

It’s silent for what feels like hours, the only thing breaking it being his uneven breath. Then, his light sobs. You immediately half-sit up, focusing all your attention on Ken.

There’s a big, strained smile on his face, the kind that only shows when you’re the last person trying to convince yourself that everything’s alright. It begins to fade, and tears only begin to fall faster when you envelop him in a hug. He hugs you tighter, tighter than he ever has before, almost like he’s afraid to lose you. No, as if he’s afraid to leave you.

You back off by a couple inches when his weak hold finally allows it, and you bring a hand up to wipe one of the many tears from his cheek. You eventually have to courage to raise enough for Ken to hear.

“Ken…did I say something wrong? I never meant to hurt you, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s not your fault that you loved me.”

You both sit in silence. Your hand weakly starts to weigh itself down, away from his face, while he avoids any kind of eye contact. This was the first time you heard his voice.

“I…I don’t want to leave. I can’t just leave you, you mean so much to me!”

He begins to ramble, and it starts to become hard to understand him when the tears come right back.

“Ken, my love, I’d never leave you. What makes you think-”

“No, no, my family. My family’s puppet shows are making me travel. I have to change schools. I have to leave. I have to leave you.”

“Oh.”

That’s what that meant.

He’s leaving.

You may never see each other again.

“...When?”

“I need to start packing tomorrow. I also need to tell the bey club.”

You nod absentmindedly, you mind trying to come up with any possible, futile ways to keep him here. When nothing useful comes up, you slowly reach your hands around his torso and lay down. He allows it.

He can feel a wet spot form on his shirt, but he only embraces you tighter. He strokes your hair as gently as he can, resisting the urge to burst out into tears again. It’s much harder when the love of his life is past that point, lying on his chest, and there isn’t much else he can do as comfort.

You awake the next morning to rays of sunshine crossing your face, and you groggily attempt to sit up, but the arms wrapped around you won’t allow it. You quickly recognize the fluffy, black hair you grew so used to, and the area in the woods that you loved so much. That was all you needed as confirmation that no, none of what had happened was a dream. Your eyes want to well up again, but your body refuses, still tired from last night.

Finally, Ken’s grip loosens a bit when he takes in the situation as well, but it quickly tightens again when the two of you are sat back up.

“Don’t you still have to tell the beyclub?”

“...Yeah.”

Ken makes no effort to move until you do, grabbing his hand and letting him take the lead to wherever he had planned on meeting the club. Before he turned the corner, he takes a deep breath in and plasters the usual smile on his face. You hadn’t let go of his hand, so he currently only has Besu on.

You don’t plan on letting go any time soon.

Xander ends up interrupting the beyclub, and you all find yourselves at the Shakadera Dojo, the Beyclub battling the Swordflames. Halfway through the team battles, Daigo finally speaks up about something being off about Ken, and he slips his hand out of yours, swiftly making his way out of the dojo. You follow the beyclub, finally ending up at the top of a cliff, where they question Ken.

You know it hurts.

It hurts, even more, to say it out loud.

“Want me to tell them?”

He quickly looks your way, and his face is mixed with surprise, panic, sadness, and many other emotions. A slight nod towards you, and you somehow manage to utter out the words that Ken couldn’t. Only once it came to the part about him not wanting to leave could he finally speak up, and you could tell his eyes were starting to gloss over again, same as yours. It almost seemed as if a heavy weight was taken off his shoulders, only to be replaced with a heavier one. The clear emotions being shown by his friends didn’t help, and that made him want to get away as soon as possible.

Not paying attention to his surroundings, the rock beneath him crumbles, making him slip. He closes his eyes, preparing for the worst.

He opens his eyes to see your face, jam-packed with adrenaline. You pull him back up thanks to the help of the beyclub, and the two of you sit for a second, trying to comprehend everything that just happened.

Then, Daigo lays out the idea that everyone will still be friends no matter where you are. That gives the rest of the club hope, and Ken’s eyes fill with determination. The two of you stand up, and you piggy-back off off Daigo’s idea, assuring him that you’ll be there for him no matter where you are.

You refuse to let go of his hand once again, up until he has to get into the truck to make his way to his new home.

“Hey, don’t forget to shoot me a text anytime, okay?”

Your nerves are getting the better of you, but Ken reassures you that he’ll keep in contact. He pulls you in for one last hug.

He doesn’t let go until his mom calls to him, and even then he waits another minute.

“I love you. And distance won’t change that. Don’t get hung up on me, though, go enjoy life.”

You let out a sad chuckle,

“As if I could ever move on. I’ll still love you, even with the distance.”

One last deep breath and he gets in the truck that begins to drive off.

The beyclub members shout their last goodbyes and you give the last word;

“Be safe, Love!”

May.21.23

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frostyyyroyalmilktea · 2 years

Text

Nevermore Student!Tyler x Thorpe!Reader pt 3

pt 1 pt 4 ao3

This is smaller than previous chapters but it's finals week so I most likely won't be able to update this week. Have this little treat while I struggle with my master's

(ಥ﹏ಥ)

***

Monday morning starts as most Monday mornings do. Way too early. It might’ve not been so awful if you haven’t spent most of the night lying awake, overanalyzing every little thing you said and did last night. But what else could you do? Last night was the most surreal experience of your life, and now you’re kind of afraid it was all just a very vivid dream. But you know it wasn’t. Deep down you feel the tug of this odd new bond. You want to see Tyler. Make sure he’s okay. He looked so worried and unsure yesterday, you wanted to do something—anything—to snap him out of that state. Thinking under pressure is not your strongest suit, let’s be honest. You just hope he wasn’t weirded out by your affections.

So there you are: groggy, anxious, and desperate to wrap yourself in a blanket burrito and wallow in your woes. Ugh, that’s how you usually imagine Xavier’s pastime.

Bianca is one of them morning people—you can’t relate—so by the time you drag your miserable form out of bed, she’s already dressed and almost done with her makeup.

You take a shower, blow dry your hair, and steam your uniform. All under thirty minutes time—because you’re a virtuoso of the fine art of being late without actually being late.

Nevermore allows minimal alterations to the uniforms as long as they don’t contradict the overall sense of integrity. Most people don’t bother, preferring to simply accessorize, but that’s no fun so you had the blazer tailored to button asymmetrically. You pair it with a white silk blouse and wide-leg velvet pants. It’s not exactly in compliance with uniform regulations, but you doubt someone will actually notice and you want to look cute. You opt for classical black Derbys to complete the look and as a jest, decide to take the bag that Xavier gave you as a gift a few Christmases ago. It’s a sizable Jigglypuff plushie bag with a long strap. Surprisingly, it can fit quite a lot. So you pack a blank notebook, a few pens and highlighters, and head out for the day.

The dining hall is in utter chaos. You thought it was busy yesterday morning, but it seems that at least a third of the residents must’ve slept in on Sunday because right now it’s completely topsy-turvy.

The buffet area resembles a warzone and you can’t even see the cereal because of all the people crowding the stand. You skip it altogether and decide that a strong cup of green tea will have to get you through until lunch. You’ll have to wake up earlier from now on to be able to grab breakfast before the rush starts. Fuuuck.

You’re anxiously approaching the far corner table because the possibility that after he had time to sleep on it Tyler decided that you are in fact a grade-A weirdo seems all too real to your sleep-deprived brain. So yeah, you aren’t 100% sure he won’t file for a restriction order, but you try to be optimistic.

You plop your ass on the chair near Tyler’s and announce with way more confidence than you feel: “Good morning sunshine.”

You’ve already started this weird game so you refuse to quit now.

Tyler looks up and his tense frown is immediately replaced by a beaming smile.

Your heart does a cartwheel.

“Morning,” he says. He clearly got there earlier than the avalanche of teenagers went down on the buffet, because he has a delicious-looking plate of scramble in front of him and a steaming cup of coffee. Not something you personally would go for this early in the morning, but you’re jealous nonetheless. “The Fruit Loops were long gone by the time I got here, but I managed to grab you a Snickers,” he says shyly, extending you the candy bar. It's a bit mangled but otherwise intact. “You don’t seem like an English breakfast kind of gal to me,” he adds.

This is literally the cutest shit ever, you think, while your face is doing things of the blushing and grinning variety that you have absolutely no control of.

“You’re literally an angel,” you inform him with all seriousness. “I saw the carnage that was going on out there and decided to grab some tea and get the hell out while I still had all my limbs about me. Like, I’m a lover, not a fighter. Especially not this early in the morning.”

Tyler laughs, “Some guy was actually ready to throw hands with me for the Snickers until he saw that I was… well, me. He looked like was about to piss his pants in fear.”

Tyler says it in good humor but it kind of cuts you unpleasantly, that people are afraid of him like that. All you see when you look at him is warmth and kindness. How do people miss it?

You notice a familiar head of curls stumbling through the dining hall, looking like he might get trampled any second now.

“Gimme a sec,” you say to Tyler and head out to retrieve the little lost pumpkin.

“Eugene, my dude, how are you this fine morning?” You grab his upper arm to steady him after someone bumps into him once again. “Do you have a place to sit?”

“Not really,” he says timidly. “I don’t do well in crowded spaces.”

“Yeah, me either, buddy. Me and my friend Tyler,” you gesture in his vague direction, “sit in the corner there. Care to join us?”

Eugene eyes the table behind you apprehensively, but then, as if he decided something for himself, straightens up and says, “Sure. Thank you, y/n.”

“No probs.”

You lead him to the table and introduce each of them. “Eugene – Tyler, Tyler – Eugene.”

Tyler looks tense. “Hey,” he waves weakly, without looking Eugene in the eyes. His shoulders are hunched like he’s trying to curl in on himself.

“Hi,” Eugene gives him a small smile.

You’re not sure what’s the story here so you ask carefully, “Do you guys know each other?”

“I almost killed him last semester,” Tyler says gravely.

You look at Eugene, but he seems pretty determined when he says, “Yeah, but he didn’t.”

You sit down and Eugene takes the seat next to you, facing Tyler. “I read your letter,” he says. “Thank you for writing it and, you know, fighting Thornhill's command to kill me.”

What the fuck?

Tyler looks up at him, “I still landed you in hospital for over a month.”

“It’s still worth a lot that you tried, Tyler.”

Granted you’ve only talked to the guy twice, but you would’ve never expected to see Eugene so serious and confident.

“So,” Eugene extends his hand. “Fresh start?”

Tyler looks shell-shocked.

“Yeah, fresh start,” he takes the proffered hand. “Thank you.”

Eugene is back to normal—at least what you perceive as his normal—in a jiff, while Tyler seems to be lost in his thoughts so you decide to give him some time and turn your attention to Eugene.

“So I gave some thought to your proposal,” you start.

Eugene lights up with excitement.

“And I came to the conclusion that bees still irrevocably frighten me.”

Eugene’s face falls.

“Buuut, my sweet little pumpkin, fret not, I would still like to join.”

Eugene beams and Tyler, who emerged from his thoughts to join the conversation, looks between you two in amusement as you start explaining to Eugene that you want to make an Etsy store where he can sell the honey and donate the profits to the Bee-related charity of his choice.

“Of course, we’ll have to run it by Weems because there’s money involved in the matter, but I reckon as long as we donate it, she’ll be cool with it.”

“Do you think people will actually want to buy it?” Eugene asks hesitantly.

“We’ll make them want to buy it, my sweet summer child,” you assure him. “We’ll make a Tiktok account—I was thinking something like ‘Eugene’s Bees’, it has a nice ring to it—and we’ll make educational videos with, like, fun twists to them. The orders will start rolling in no time.”

“You’re like really into this,” Tyler remarks softly.

He smiles with one of those smiles that reaches his eyes and you completely lose your train of thought.

“Well, yeah, once I’m into something,” or someone, you don’t add, “it’s near impossible to throw me off.”

“Hm,” is all he replies, smiling mysteriously.

Eugene has to take off earlier to check on bees before class, so it’s just you and Tyler once again.

“You’re so ardent about this whole thing,” Tyler says. “It’s cool seeing you in your element, talking social media strategy. Very… attractive.”

You choke on a bit of Snickers you so unwisely bit off just a second ago.

“I’m very,” you cough out, “passionate about many things.”

Tyler smirks.

Oh God, did you just unwittingly make an innuendo? Shit, you didn’t even mean it like that!

You take a sip of tea as a measure to prevent words from leaving your mouth. You clearly need a moment to reestablish brain-to-mouth connection.

“Listen, I was thinking…” Tyler starts.

And doesn’t continue.

A pause stretches out.

In the end, your curiosity outweighs the fear of saying something dumb.

“Yeah?” You prompt.

“We should exchange phone numbers,” he says hastily, and you have a feeling he was going to say something else but changed his mind at the last moment.

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” you pull out your phone.

“Is that a flip phone?” Tyler asks, sounding almost in awe.

“It’s Galaxy flip,” you smile, showing him the folding screen. “My dad did a commercial for Samsung a few months ago and they gave him a few of these. They’re not very practical, but they are super cute and you can wear charms on them,” you jiggle the little Hello Kitty charm to draw his eyes to it. “I also like to put different stickers on the case and-”

Tyler catches the charm in his fingers to take a closer look. His hand brushes yours and you freeze mid-sentence, not able to remember how to take a breath.

You’re not usually that awkward around boys. You’ve met Timothee Chalamet once, for crying out loud! And you were very chill about it and told him he was great in Dune. Why is it that around Tyler you turn into a bumbling mess who talks—and what’s more worrying acts—before forming a cohesive thought?

“Y/n?” Tyler looks at you expectantly, extending his hand.

“Right!” You pass him the phone, almost dropping it in the process.

He punches in the numbers but leaves the field ‘contact name’ empty. You stare at it dumbly while he takes out his phone.

You type in Ty and after a moment's deliberation add a heart emoji. It’s just cute, it doesn’t have to mean anything, you tell yourself like a lying liar who lies.

Tyler hands you his phone. It’s a beat-up iPhone 7. The screen is cracked so badly, you can hardly see anything on the lower part. You’re afraid it might give up on its clearly long-suffering existence if you as much as breathe at it wrong.

Tyler senses your apprehension and says, “Those late-night strolls in the woods did not work out all that great for it.”

He sounds embarrassed and you don’t know if it's because the strolls in the woods are a thing in the first place, or is it because he can’t afford a new phone. Either way, you feel like shit for drawing attention to it.

You put in your number, leaving the ‘contact name’ field empty as well. “There you go.”

“Right,” he says, “yeah, umm, good. I gotta go now, but I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Of course,” you smile sunnily.

Why is he so nervous all of a sudden?

He gets up, grabs his backpack, and then leans in and kisses you on the cheek.

“Have a great first day, y/n,” he says and then promptly blasts out of the dining hall at a speed that you’re sure is not entirely human.

You hear Bianca's rambunctious laughter and turn to look at their table. You see her double down from laughing so hard, eyes on your brother who’s currently gripping a butter knife like he wants to commit manslaughter with it.

You’re probably gonna laugh your ass off about it too. But not right now. Right now you just sit there with the most ridiculous grin on your face thinking oh how the turn tables.

***

Author’s note: the turn tables thing is from The Office

Btw, on ao3 every chapter is named after a song so if you’d like to hear what I listen to when I write, come check it out!

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin imagine #thorpe!reader #wednesday

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omegalomania · 1 year

Text

ive got a one free sincere poetical diatribe coupon that expires this week so im cashing it in on waxing lyrical about my favorite band for a minute cause im stupidly sleep deprived and its gonna be a long night so

the thing is this.

the thing is that maybe there isnt quite magic in this world but theres something to be said for the pure unfettered serendipity of a million little things conspiring to have certain peoples paths cross and the way this can change entire worlds. maybe i dont believe in magic but i believe in the unshakable fucking certainty that a 17 year old joe trohman had when he met a 17 year old patrick stump in a bookstore by sheer chance and listened to his demos and Knowing that he should sing despite patrick not being a singer and not particularly wanting to sing. i believe in the stone cold rock solid belief this kid had in this other kids voice to the point where he dragged his buddy over to his house to prove he had the pipes they needed. i believe in pete wentz hearing patrick stump sing in person for the first time and realizing wait, yeah, actually hes our golden fucking ticket. i believe in the last second just before patrick was about to get on the kit to record the drums for take this to your grave, andy hurley comes swinging in fresh from recording an ep with another band and knocking out every drum part damn near flawlessly. i believe in a band of scrappy dumb punk kids who grew up in the suburbs of the midwest and took over the world and didnt plan for any of it to get as big as it did. i believe in this weird fucking band with their weird fucking idiosyncrasies, this band of four guys who dont look like they should be friends let alone making music together: a heavily tattooed vegan straightedge beefcake drummer, the ambitious visionary bassist with the 50-megawatt grin, the tattoo-sleeved lanky guitarist with an inescapable rock 'n roll bent, the pixie-pale and painfully anxious frontman with the voice of a soul singer.

i believe theres a special kind of chemistry that only makes sense with the four of them, together. its the guy with the visuals and the words, this bassist who was supposed to be a lawyer or a star soccer player but instead crafts stories from the narratives he crafts in his head. its this guitarist with his love for the interleaving of sounds and ability to seamlessly jump from front-facing to incredibly restrained and his indelible blues-rock momentum. its this singer who never intended to sing but whose soaring, clear tenor is so utterly distinct that he quickly became one of the most iconic and versatile vocalists in the genre, if not in the world of music in general. its this hardcore drummer who pulls everything together and forms the throbbing heartbeat of the band, whose grit-edged metalcore backbone not even the poppiest of all pop choruses can truly file away.

i believe in this: andy hurley's unshakable faith that the band would reform during the hiatus, despite all evidence to the contrary. patrick stump writing the song that would become "miss missing you" for his solo record but then setting it aside because it didnt feel like it was for him, again, despite every indication that for all anyone knew, fall out boy was done for good. pete wentz, moved by a miserable blog post from his split-up bands singer, reaching out and sparking what was unheard of, especially for bands like them - a renaissance, a successful resurgence, and one of the best comebacks any musical act can say theyve had in decades. joe trohman picking up the phone and preparing to tell patrick stump that he wasn't ready to go back and do the band again if he wasn't going to be writing music, only for patrick to take the words out of his mouth and insist that he should be writing more and he was too talented a writer for them not to allow him space for that.

i believe in the little things. i believe in a band that was never expected to last a summer but has become an indelible part of music history, naysayers be damned. i believe in the unique chemistry of four guys who have no monetary or logistical reason to continue doing this thing aside from the fact that they love it so - they love the process of creating with one another, and they love the car crash hearts whose hearts beat in sync with theirs. i believe in joe listening to the first pass of "fake out" exactly once, picking up an acoustic guitar, and walking into record the instrumentation that ultimately pulled the entire song together in one take without thinking twice about it. i believe in andy simply knowing that "heaven, iowa" would make the final cut of the record despite patricks reticence and his not knowing how to make the song something he could say he was proud of. i believe in pete pouring some of his most vulnerable feelings into his, fearful of how well they will be accepted but making that leap nonetheless, only for the crowds to sing every single word back to him.

maybe theres no such thing as magic or fate and maybe theres no point. but i think of stardust. i think of four guys who poured so much love and time into this record and named it for stardust and i think of them as this: fistfuls of cosmic dust who all sprang from the same etiology. i think of them and its a romantic fucking notion but i allow myself this, i entertain the thought that when the cosmos formed and the detonation of planets and the dissolution of comets created that far-flung scatter of so much (for) stardust, that starry residue liberally dotting the broad span of the black, the four of them all came from the same origin point and like magnets ended up snapping together and thats the way theyve stayed. for years. for decades.

what i guess im trying to say is this: when the universe formed we all came from stardust and we will all return to stardust and i cant help but wonder if those four guys all came from the same stardust too.

like i said. its a romantic fucking notion. i believe in the little things though. and you know what they say about believers (never die).

#*making poasts #*mine #*writing #im running on no sleep here. its a long night for me #so im letting myself say some silly words #this is more than i usually pour into this blog but idk. ive always considered myself more of a writer than an artist #so i guess i should start embracing that here a little bit more #this is rebloggable or whatever i dont care. if it resonates thats great if not thats ok too

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