#and literally every time i’ve seen my best friend this week (which has been several times because we’ve both just been like ‘do you want to
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I absolutely loved this episode of the last of us but it really emphasised how mean spirited tlou part 2 is and that it was heralded by people as such a masterpiece makes me feel violently depressed about what that says about the bleakness of life and this planet we live on.
Never more than in this week’s episode have we seen so intimately Joel’s mental state. This is an addition in the show; the conversation between Joel and Tommy is very different in the game. We know Joel feels like that but it never says it so explicitly. And that’s a good thing. So much of who Joel is is shaped by his devastating loss. He has severe ptsd and trauma from not only losing Sarah, but the way he lost her. He wasn’t able to save her, he failed her, and that’s why Ellie terrifies him! Because he presumes he’s going to do the same thing again. He’s going to lose her. He even lists ways he’s already let her down. It’s made patently clear in the way he is with Ellie and things he says to her that this fear is because he cares about her. He tells her he does outright. And as he begins to care for her, we see his ptsd rearing its head in more obvious/physical ways. Makes sense, right? Loving someone, caring for them— that’s Joel’s trigger. But we also see something else. We see Joel talking. Jesus he’s barely talked this series so far in the way he does in episode 6. Most of the time his conversations have revolved around logistics and plans. Now he’s talking about dream jobs and football and his old life. And he’s smiling when he does it. He’s laughing. There’s so much contentment in him in his scenes with Ellie. This is what healing looks like. There are painful, heart stopping moments. But there’s also joy. When was the last time Joel felt joy, do you think?
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. The Last of Us Part 1 is a love story at its very core. It’s about how love is where you find a reason to live even in dire times like an apocalypse. It’s about how things can seem so bleak but if you allow yourself to love, you CAN find pockets of joy. You can find hope. This is what Joel learns through Ellie. Love makes life worth living again. And, in fact, it saves you. There’s a reason we have a cutscene with Bill in the game in which he tells Joel that caring about someone only gets you killed. It’s not just a throwaway line as we traverse Bill’s Town with him. It’s a proper, cinematic cutscene. Bill tells Joel/us this, and then the narrative works the rest of the time to undermine it. Ellie’s love for Joel is what saves his life in winter. The things she does to keep him alive and safe are insane. It’s not just finding food and water for them both at 14 years old. She finds medicine. She uses herself as bait to keep David away from Joel. That’s nuts! And it’s because of love. Love is what helps Joel not get killed. It’s the same for Ellie later: because Joel loves her, he saves her life instead of letting her get killed. He sees her as a person of value, as a person whose life means something irrelevant of her immunity. He sees her as someone who deserves to live. Love literally saves her fucking life. And as well as all this, we see how love saves Joel and Ellie in every day ways. Ellie is no longer alone and scared. She has someone. Joel finds joy in life again. He pets giraffes and he laughs at stupid jokes and he talks and talks about a life he’s been burying for decades. Who is the only person he’ll accept Sarah’s photo back from? Ellie! ‘I’m taking a ride with my best friend.’ And they ARE best friends. This episode went to great and beautiful lengths to emphasise how broken and afraid Joel is, and how hard it is for him to show up for Ellie, but that he does because he cares for her. It goes to great lengths to show how Ellie is starting to affect a change in Joel; that she’s helping him overcome the grief that has lain stagnant in him for 20 years. It’s starting to show how they’re best friends. It was an exceptional episode. I loved every second of it. But when I think about part 2, I’m so stuck on how mean it all is and how it works against what they (bruce i see you pal) were telling us in part 1.
In fact, it’s not just mean, it’s cruel - both to Joel and Ellie, and to the fans who love them and are attached to their journey and got something out of it. What’s interesting is considering Bill and Frank’s story and the changes that were made to it. I absolutely loved the episode but it’s difficult to completely ignore pinkwashing claims (if you care to look, there have been many complaints about the game and its overall treatment of lgbt+) when Bill is rewarded for doing the same as Joel: he protects his one person too. In doing so he hoards valuable resources that could be used to help thousands of people. In twenty years ordinary people just looking for safety will definitely have made their way to Bill’s Town and been turned away. Bill’s refusal to turn his town into some sort of a functioning community like Jackson definitely killed people. But this is presented as a good thing. He’s protecting Frank. That’s his job. And he’s rewarded with so many happy years and a peaceful death in an apocalypse. There’s a reason that resonates with people more than Bill’s original story which is bleak and sad. He ends up alone. Frank dies hating him. To see instead that actually you can have joy and hope and love in a post apocalyptic world is meaningful to people.
Joel and Ellie are not so lucky. Joel does the same as Bill. He picks Ellie. He does what he has to to protect her. He defends them both from hostile attackers. His refusal to let her be a lab rat prevents a cure (arguably) so people will die but he saves her life and gives her a life worth living, the same as Bill does for Frank. He isn’t rewarded for it. There’s no great love is so good message here. Unlike Bill, Joel is punished so horribly for years in the narrative through Ellie. She’s used as a pawn for the vehicle in which the narrative tells us Joel did something wrong and he deserves punishment. This hurts her too by the way: love has hurt her too. But the narrative has to punish Joel this way to really make sure we know he did something so terribly wrong, so for 2 years Ellie isn’t allowed to give Joel a proper chance to explain. He isn’t allowed to defend himself. And after these long painful years, Joel is then killed. But he’s not just killed. It’s so brutal. It’s long. It’s painful. And Ellie is there to watch, to be held down on floor level so he’s all she can see as he’s killed, and she’s begging him to get up. Bill’s stance and actions are presented as a good thing. He’s the hero who saves Frank and allows him to live a good life. He gets a hero’s story. Joel, on the other hand, is a villain for doing the same thing. He dies a villain’s death.
Ultimately, Bill is right, despite what part 1 appears to be telling you (that’s part of why I hate 2 SO much, it’s so contrary to the themes and messages of 1). Love does get you killed. If Joel didn’t love Ellie he wouldn’t have saved her and he wouldn’t be dead now. Love will make you soft and stupid. You’ll run into rooms of armed strangers without concern after 20 years of being constantly on guard, or at least that was Neil’s explanation as to why Joel would get himself into a situation that was so out of character for him. If you love someone you will be punished for it. They’ll stop speaking to you because you loved them and because of that love knew you had a life of value that was worth living and not because of immunity. They won’t even give you a chance to explain, after all the ways love drove you to keep each other safe and alive. If you love someone you’ll be brutally tortured and murdered and you’ll deserve it. You will be constantly punished and criticised and villainised for that love. Literally, love makes you a villain. You will suffer because of love, you will lose everything. What’s the message here???? What on earth were Neil and Halley trying to say (sos bruce we miss you)???? That healing from your trauma will get you killed? Will get you punished? That Joel should have stayed broken in the QZ? Because if he’d done that, he’d have been better off than his ultimate fate. He wouldn’t have lost a daughter again and he wouldn’t have been beaten to death slowly and died quite likely thinking Ellie’s going to be killed after him so he’s let another daughter die, and he’d probably still have Tess.
Joel, through Ellie and overcoming immense fear and ptsd in order to love her, heals from his trauma, he’s finally able to deal with his grief and move on. He, after twenty years of rejecting it because it caused so much fucking pain, loves again! He truly loves! Then it first hurts him again, and then it kills him. Love is good, love is necessary they told us in part 1. But in part 2 they tell us it WILL get you killed though. And that’s so fucking miserable.
#anyway perfect top tier episode dont get me wrong im so thrilled with it#but how sad is it all in the context of part 2 lmao? ultimately joel was better off as he was being numb#bcus he just gets punished for daring to love again for daring to overcome his grief and trauma#and it fucking sucks#like dont tell me theres no valid reasons to be mad at this game lmao there are SO many#the last of us spoilers#tlou2#tlou1#anyway i just rlly needed to get this out bcus it rlly put into perspective the nitty gritty of why i hate part 2 so much#like im not just moaning for the sake of moaning i have genuine critiques about why this game was so awful to us and to joel and ellie#and why it made no narrative sense against part 1 they just contradict each other WE MISS U BRUCE
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hello nero my beloved soulmate!! <33
i’m back and i am already suffering from severe PHD (post holiday depression, i decided it is a thing). my friend left last night and i hate this. it’s so unfair that we live in two different countries and we can’t see each other as much as we would like to. i’ll probably see her soon, i should have another week off in august and we were talking about me visiting her this time so hopefully i’ll be able to go.
anyway, on to the trip!! it was so cool!! i mean the first week we stayed in tuscany, we went around florence and a few other cities around here, and we got tattoos!!! i told you about this already but they are so cute!!! our little irish dinosaurs (they’re irish because we met in ireland <3 they’re named saoirse and niamh).
then for the second week we went to rome!! oh it was so nice!! we found the perfect weather. it was always sunny and warm enough to go around in shorts, but never too hot not to be able to explore. we went for the usual places: the colosseum, the pantheon, the squares and fountains, all that. but also we accidentally found ourselves into the roman forums and they were amazing!! i’d never been in them, only seen them from above, but they are so big, you can see a whole city. but the highlight was ostia antica. it was this archeological site near rome and it’s so quiet because not may people know it. it’s an 84 acres site where you can literally walk into houses and shops and temples and theaters from the roman period. and it’s amazing because usually rome is very protected, like there are fences and barriers everywhere, you can’t get too close to a lot of stuff, but in ostia antica we could literally touch the ruins, walk through them and find our way back in a maze of doors and corridors. it was so cool!!! also that’s where i found the cats!! they were so cute and friendly 🥺
last thing before i close this letter. the food!!! oh the food. we found this little restaurant on the very first night, which was actually so close to the trevi fountain, and it was so cheap and good (very rare combination to find in the middle of rome). they had some of the best spaghetti i’ve ever tried. also we kept going back there in the next days so they recognized us and they were so nice because they offered us appetizers and wine and they always remembered that we liked to order three plates of pasta to share between the two of us. they were so nice!!
i really needed this trip. i needed to be off work for a few weeks and just disconnect from all the drama and stress. and the good food and wine helped a lot with that lol. but seriously i’m so happy, it was an amazing trip and it was so good to see my friend again after so long <3
but enough about me now!! how are you doing nero?? what have you been doing these last two weeks??
also, about our last letter, i am very happy that you are following my orders and planning a very relaxing trip :) you deserve to not even think about uni when you’re on a trip. and it’s gonna be so fun to dance to that kind of music!! can’t wait to hear all about that one!!
and i’m very happy you’re obsessed with me getting tattoos because this is turning into a sickness. i can’t stop now :’)
but here are my other two tatts!!! the little rainbow one is very simple but very personal. i’ve been waiting forever to get it and it looks perfect 🥺 (yayyy you can start booking stuff!!! that means tattoos coming soon!!!)
i’m enclosing a hug and a really big plate of cacio e pepe (a kind of spaghetti with cheese and black pepper) just because one can never have too much pasta <3333
hi cece my beloved soulmate!!!!
i believe phd (post holiday depression) is a thing, i get it every time. it’s sad that your friend has gone home, but think about august!!! that should be so fun!!!
i’ve seen pictures of tuscany and it’s so beautiful!! and yes tattoos!! the fact that they are irish dinosaurs named saoirse and niamh because you met in ireland is the cutest story behind a matching tattoo ever 🥺🥺
oh rome!!!! that weather sounds lovely, i’m glad it was around for the entire trip!! sounds like you got up to quite a lot!! i’m literally imagining you walking around and pointing out these little tourist attractions 🥺 but ostia antica sounds so beautiful. a whole 84 acres to explore and experience the ancient roman life?? i would go crazy in there, especially with all the cats!!
oh the food sounds incredible!!! it’s so amazing you found something good and cheap!!! but those people sound so nice 🥹🥹 i’m glad they also added to such a wonderful break you had! i feel like pasta now…
you definitely needed that trip!! just a refresh is sometimes all you need, and good food and wine are recommended to help relax by doctors actually 😌😌😌 but i’m so happy you got to see your friend after so long and i’m so glad that you enjoyed yourself!!!!
i’ve been doing alright!! i had my trip to sydney and my twice concert, and it was so much more fun than i thought it would be!!! so i took my best friend and a family friend of mine, and my manager from work came too, but we all booked our concert tickets together so it was me and my friends, my manager and her brother and his partner. (don’t even ask me how stressful buying six tickets was)
the japanese place opened up again, and we were staying somewhere even closer to it. we basically walked everywhere, because the train station is in the shopping centre next to the japanese place, and that was only ten minutes away. so i took my friends to eat more ramen than we could see and we shared a bottle of soju (my friends are lightweights and it was VERY funny to watch. i had to finish the bottle off though)
and then we did lots of activities on the tuesday before the concert and we went to that album shop and book shop again and i spent way too much money, cece’s orders 😌😌 i spent so much money in the album shop they gave me a free album and preorder benefit photocards (which are really rare!!) and i had to show my id in the book store because i bought a level one restricted novel (actually banned in my state, but my professors made me too curious), which was quite funny
the twice concert was so fun, literally everyone in the audience were dancing and singing, and i was gay panicking and it was wonderful! each of the members of twice also had a solo performance and they did so well! one of them, momo, had this dance where she HAD A POLE?!?!? AND SHE HAD NEVER POLE DANCED BEFORE?? she was so good, i will save your eardrums by not sending the video i took 😌
anyways, here’s the photo they posted at the end!! we are in the centre and slightly to the right <3 (i’m sure you’ll see me 😂😂)
and then we actually got the chance to go to the harbour bridge and the opera house, which are in the same place, so we didn’t waste too much time there! and then we went to this room of claw machines near the eateries and i managed to win two things!! (one of them i spent way too much money to grab out, but he looked so lonely and i had to get my son out 😭😭) and then we had gelato mochi, which my friend found. so they get a scoop of ice cream and wrap it with mochi! we all got two, because none of us can make a decision and it really was a good end to the trip 🥺
other than that, i am running a little behind on uni, but i decided to use some of my leave and take the week off work. i’m just going to smash out the essays i have due (and overdue) and i’ll probably be able to rest better during the big exam session 😌
i’ve been looking forward to seeing these two and you didn’t disappoint! the rainbow one is adorable and the font for the script on your ribs is beautiful!!! i think i might be addicted to your tattoo addiction 😂 (yay!!! i’m so excited!!)
i really wanted this cacio e pepe, all this talking of food made me hungry! i’m squeezing you back real tight and i’m giving you a bowl of ramen <3333333
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Pumpkin Timeee
I love Halloween, here’s a little fic
Seasons may change, but Time’s commute back from the castle stays more or less the same. Yes, there may be life-size plastic skeletons in the windows of most houses right now, but if you can ignore that, along with the badly carved pumpkins and the entire graveyard that was erected overnight in one garden, it is really no different to any other day.
For Time, Halloween is an occasion that brings very real fear to his heart. There isn’t much distinction between each year; he can pretty much count on Legend terrorising them all with his latest attempt at special effects makeup (last time he had genuinely convinced Warriors he had chopped his index finger off cutting a cucumber), Wind will watch a horror movie and spend the next week with night terrors, and Hyrule will eat so many super sour sweets he throws up.
All in all, not his favourite holiday.
Not that he wants to tempt fate, but today has been remarkably uneventful. Only three people dressed up at work and no one has tried any pranks or jump-scares (he may be known as the Hero of Time in some circles, but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to those surprise jump-scare videos on YouTube), so he’s in a pretty good mood.
That is, until he walks into his house.
“What is this?”
Which, he commends himself, is an admirably calm reaction considering whatever it is has left his kitchen looking like the scene of a large, gruesome pumpkin massacre. And actually, that might be an apt description of what millions of children do every year on the 31st of October when they carve hideous faces into gourds while their parents try their best to keep them from cutting their fingers off.
Millions of children and, of course, his idiot friends.
“We’re carving pumpkins,” Wind says distractedly, his tongue held between his teeth as he focuses intently on stabbing his knife multiple times into his pumpkin.
“I can see that. But did you have to do it in my kitchen?”
“Yours is the only one big enough for all of us.”
A fact that has made him repeatedly curse his and Malon’s past selves ever since they first viewed this house and exclaimed how perfect the large, open plan kitchen/living room would be for having all their friends round for dinner sometimes. They seriously overlooked several important factors like how now all eight of the boys seem to be in their house ninety percent of the time whether he and Malon are home or not.
“You don’t think you might have overdone it?” He’s referring to the literally countless number of pumpkins on every surface–he tallied thirteen before he lost count–and the sloppy mountain of Pumpkin innards piled so high onto the table that it very nearly reaches the ceiling.
“Oh, that?” Wild gestures casually at Mount Pumpkin Guts. “I’ll make it into a pumpkin pie or something.”
“Far be it from me to ever doubt your cooking skills, Wild,” Time replies, “but do you plan on making a pumpkin pie the size of Hyrule Town?”
Wild shrugs.
“So I’ll make some pumpkin cupcakes as well.”
“Where did you even get all these? I don’t think I’ve seen this many pumpkins in one place since I last went to a pumpkin farm.” Which, for the record, was many years ago because he hates the taste.
“Hey, look, I made you!” Wind looks incredibly pleased with himself as he turns his pumpkin around to show a very roughly carved face with a line through one eye and markings that may or may not be supposed to represent his own.
Time’s eye twitches.
“Hyrule grew them in his garden,” Legend tells him. Hyrule looks at Time with a haunted look that tells of a very serious miscalculation.
“They got a bit out of hand.”
Oh, and would you have it, his hand is stuck into a bag of Super Sours. What a surprise.
“Don’t get your pants in a twist, we’ll clean everything up at the end,” Warriors says, clearly noticing the looming aneurysm in Time’s future. His pumpkin has a knife stuck in its head and is carved to look like it’s screaming in pain. Time can relate.
“There better not be a speck of pumpkin on these worktops by the time Malon comes home.”
#lyra writes#linked universe#linkeduniverse#modern au#hope you have a good halloween if it's something you celebrate!
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Here I am being really happy and exhausted with none other than French kyokushin legend Djema Belkhodja at the 2022 French National Kyokushin Seminar !
This is the only pic I managed to get but there were so many legends present here that I could barely keep up. From Shihan Jacques Legree himself (who literally brought kyokushin to France and was one of the first non-japanese students of Mas Oyama !) to Baptiste Delaunay and Lucian Gogonel, this was two days of world class teaching like I’ve never seen. It’s been days and I’m still reeling and it’s gonna take weeks before I can even sum up everything I learnt here.
The two days were essentially made of small classes by every sensei present, going from studying ido gekos and katas to pure combat tactics, from feints and learning the many subtleties of techniques. For example, we learned like three different low kicks complete with set ups and distance management, and I feel like my IQ has gotten 100 more points (now if only my body could follow... eh. I still suck.)
I also got to do my first board-breaking which was suprisingly easy ? I mean I was 100 % sure my hand would just bounce of the board, especially after I had to carry them to the dojo myself. Boards are like 1 inch thick, which isn’t too bad but still ? I’m impressed with myself.
My only complaint would be that we didn’t get to do enough kumite, but it’s understandable since the seminar was also the opportunity for many to pass their first (or second) dan, so the priority was given to them. We did a few rounds with them to help warm them up, and then the rest of the day was for them.
The ones taking the black belt test were put through HELL by the way. This was insane from start to finish. The stamina test and kumite were especially grueling. The kumite test was such a heavy moment as they all went through twenty fights against literal champions, including a monster like Belkhodja (12 times french champion & 1 time world finalist) and several french and European champions. This was honestly inspiring to watch, that was really some world class fighting.
Also had some Baki moment when one of the dojo’s friends, a GIANT kung fu / sanda practitioner came to help with the kumite. The guy was wearing a dogi for the first time with a white belt of course, and he PLOWED through everyone who weren’t expecting that. As one of the guys told me “I underestimated him until he threw the first punch and I got scared when he threw the second”
(The kung fu guy has been practicing kyokushin for like 20 years but since he doesn’t identify as a karate practitioner, he comes in with no dogi. He usually brings his students to the sparring classes, who are all equally as good. It’s an awesome part of the sparring class.)
Honestly, I can’t wait for the next one. I’m due for a belt test on June 25th and I’m impatient even for that. This might be the hardest thing I’ve been doing in my life but I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun doing something so difficult.
I really fell in love with kyokushin this year. It has been one of my favorite styles for a long time but now that I’m actually practicing it, it’s something completely different. I was considering dropping everything to focus on kyokushin and this might happen next season, I really want to dig deep in that (and eventually go back to jujutsu for the grappling and maybe boxing to fill in the gaps). Everything from the classes to the fighting style suits me better than everything else I’ve tried so far, it feels more natural to me than savate, jujutsu or kickboxing (I mean my body type is much more suited to it. I don’t look like it but I’m at 95kg on this picture up there, and it’s not just fat. I’m a freaking tank.)
Best decision I’ve taken in a while. I hope I can start to compete in a few years, even if I’m getting a bit old for that.
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So last night I got called “fucking inconsiderate”
Since this is going to be a long info dump and me just generally feeling sorry for myself I’m going to put the rest of the post under a cut.
I’m not asking for sympathy, not asking for anything really I just need to get this out somewhere to get it out of my head.
I know people are going through their own stuff and they don’t need to read mine on top of that.
Last night I got called “fucking inconsiderate” by my mums best friend of the past 8 years and someone who I have REPEATEDLY bent over backwards for and done every single thing she has ever asked of me without a question, just happy to help, even helped her with stuff without being asked. When I tried to apologise she told me I had “already fucked her off” and to “get out of her face” before she “gave me an even harsher tongue lashing”
And when I got home I had a full fucking meltdown.
Unfortunately it’s not an option to cut her out of my life due to certain circumstances that would take my mental health down a couple of notches if I did so.
And you would think she’s just in a bad mood and she’s been horrible to me many times before so why can’t I just get over this one? Well the matter of the fact is that this isn’t the only *one* thing right now.
My mental health is at an all time low. The last time I felt anywhere close to this was after I lost my grandad three years ago, something which I have still not fully recovered from.
Over the past year I have been treated like shit by “the powers that be” at my place of work, you’ve seen me complain about this before. But I still have helped and helped and helped. I got moved over to a new department where I was not comfortable but I needed a job, once I got comfortable there my boss from my old department suffered mental health issues of her own due to stress and went on long term leave. They asked me to cover, so I did, but on top of everything else I was already doing with my new position. I told them I was exhausted after a couple of weeks (I literally felt bone tired and almost fell asleep on the floor at home one night because I sat down) and I was told by my new manager, someone who picks and chooses when she works and what parts of her job she actually does that “we all get like that sometimes” this same woman was horrible to me the day before I had a job interview for somewhere else, to the point that I broke down in the HR office, but it doesn’t matter because two of the HR ladies are her best friends.
Most of you know I had a car accident last June which left me with severe whiplash that I still haven’t recovered from, what I don’t think I’ve mentioned on here is that I had another two back in March. After the second one I was beside myself, I was in pieces (not literally of course) but I was with my grandma and said I was going to go home and call my dad because “he will make me feel better” (my mum was away in the Maldives so she wasn’t an option) I called him and told him what happened. His response? “Why do you only ring me when something bad happens?” I call him when something bad happens because I need him, I don’t call him in general because he’s always busy and I don’t want to bother him, he knows that because I have told him before. I went to his house to drop something off recently and because I don’t go because I don’t feel welcome /am never invited when my step mum got home she was like “oh sea’s here! To what do we owe the honour of this visit?!” Which made me feel even more unwelcome. Whenever I spend time with my dad recently it feels like it’s just a chore to him, something he has to do in the week.
My grandma who I love to absolute death she is my favourite person on the planet has started pointing out the time when I go to visit her. Now this might seem like a little thing but I go twice a week and every time it’s “oh it’s *this time* already” and my experience is that people do that when they want someone to leave. And it’s starting to feel like she doesn’t want me there.
When my dad takes me to see my nana on a Sunday when I’m spending time with him, she ignores me or talks over me, all the time. If I ever try to tell her about something nice I’ve done she starts talking over me about my cousins achievements and what they’ve done (which I hate to say has made me resent them somewhat, but that’s my issue because except exclude me from things which I don’t mind since we’re not that close, they’ve done nothing wrong in this) this has been going on for as long as I can remember. If I didn’t behave perfectly as a child I would be told off very harshly but if my cousins did the exact same thing, nothing. I made a comment about how my cousin must be tired because she was working lots of hours and she snapped at me saying “well she’s studying too!” But when it was me studying she told me that my dad would be disappointed in me because I got a bad grade, while I was on the phone with her extremely upset. She recently made a comment to my dad when the football was on and my stepbrother and his wife were staying with them that it was “nice he finally had someone to do those kinds of things with” I was sat right there.
Whenever I try to talk to my mum about anything she says “I don’t have time to deal with this right now!” And expects me to be fine but then throws a fit (and I mean a full on tantrum) when I don’t want to talk to her about anything. Whenever she comes home from spending the weekend at my stepdads house, despite the house being much cleaner than I come home to on a Friday evening it’s always “this house is a shit hole! Why do I always have to come back to this house being a mess?! You don’t do anything to help me here! You just sit on your arse and do nothing all the time!” I work 8 hour days and three days a week when I leave the house I’m not home properly for 12 hours.
My best friend lives 74 miles away at best, depending on where she is at the time, my friends nearby is always busy with work. I love my boyfriend but the drive to get to his is exhausting for me on top of already being exhausted and he can’t drive so him coming to me isn’t an option.
I am sick to death of feeling like no one in my life likes me.
And I’m aware that some of these things just sound like I’m moaning and being petty. But I don’t have the mental capacity for this anymore. Last night I reached my breaking point but I’ve still had to pull myself together and come to work today and I’ve still got shit to do. But everything I want to do? I have no energy or patience for anymore.
I’m back in a place where I no longer feel like myself I just feel like a zombie and considering last time it took me two years to drag myself out of it I’m scared about how long it’ll take me this time.
#personal rubbish#mental health#it’s down the pan really#tw mental health#not doing great if I’m honest#long post#really long actually
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Friday. I shut my left middle finger in the fridge, the door of which is cased in an inch of stainless steel. The first wave of pain makes me gag and drool a little, and the second is more of an aesthetic agony, when I see how much finger skin I lost to a kitchen appliance. The skin looks almost chiselled away, like a renaissance artist has begun turning my hand into a more elegant sculpture of itself. It takes a long time to bleed, long enough for me to take a photo of the injury to send to V, and when it does it covers my hand and arm. I wonder if the joint is broken, and think first about how difficult it will be to play guitar if this is true. Frankly it will be difficult either way. I gasp and hobble around the house saying oh no oh no oh no oh no. I can’t believe I am enough of an idiot not to notice that, when I slam the fridge door with one hand, the other hand is in danger. I place the flaps of skin back where they came from as best I can and apply two plasters, biking to the studio with my left hand laid perfectly straight atop the handlebar rather than wrapped around it. It looks insane, but I’ll admit that having my focus drawn to a specific body part is sort of nice. Keeps the thoughts in single file. The first time I dropped down 25mg of Zoloft, in floods of tears about some perceived tragedy I plucked from my past, I took a knife to my arm and fantasised about slicing along the tendon. But I was never a cutter, even when I knew in my heart I should be and had ready access to my father’s Japanese knife collection. I’m glad for it now, since every so often in the summer I see the scars on a friend’s arm and it feels like they’re emotionally doxxing themselves without realising, just by wearing a tank top
I water all of my plants at the studio with one hand, eat food, paint. V comes over wearing several shades of aquamarine and we talk about love. I dump a lot of dilemmas on her and she carefully unknots them. Her health has been good lately, after so many setbacks and blood clots and organ failures. Her oncologist told her she’d “eat her hat” if her cancer came back, which is a risky thing to tell a patient unless you’re ultra-confident. She tells me that I hurt my finger because I do things too hard and fast. V knows this because she has seen me paint and she has seen me cook. At home later I read one of those regular Guardian articles called “you be the judge”, in which two people in a petty disagreement write in with their points of view and the readers vote on who is in the right. This week it’s a young woman who, after coming to the end of her tether with a roommate who is late to everything, secretly set all the clocks in the house (and her roommates phone) to 20 minutes ahead. It’s the first time I’ve read one of these pieces and seen no reason to hear out the other party. Lateness is a sin, this woman is doing god’s work, and sometimes god’s work is hacking into someone else’s phone so they’re on time to a doctor’s appointment. Also, it worked! I scroll the comments protesting that “time blindness” is a “symptom of ADHD” and roll my eyes until I find my community: “Literally, [lateness] steals people’s time, people’s life. You are wasting their actual time on earth to finish washing your hair. I can't think of many things more selfish or more easy to fix. Buy a watch with a vibrating function, set an alarm to begin your routine and one to end it and stick to it.”
B texts a link to some New Balance trainers that “just dropped”. He tells me they are out of his size already in the US, and so we use our respective IP addresses to shop for each other’s size, since there seem to be more mens’ availability here and more womens’ there. He orders mine from his computer in Greenpoint, which I didn’t ask for and which feels extremely generous given my knowledge of these trainers is minutes old. I snag him some size 11s from the UK and B says “we have beaten the system”. I get an email a quarter of an hour later from the store I bought B’s from apologising, telling me they’re, in fact, out of stock. I should expect a refund in a matter of days. “My haters are relentless”, B says, and begins calling physical Manhattan stores. He eventually finds a pair. I try to PayPal him the money but he refuses. My disgusting finger feels sweaty inside its dressing and I expect it will begin to smell bad soon. I tell B I am worried I’ll get robbed for my footwear in New York and he tells me not to worry
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“I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight”
Pairing: Johnny x reader (or OC)
Word Count: 3988
Genre: fluff, not smut but they both really wanna toe the line
Warnings: language, some sexy kisses (cover your eyes kids)
Summary: Johnny takes his best friend on their first date
A/N: this has absolutely morphed into a long term couple, because apparently Princess has taken the reins 😂 if you like this, check out the rest of their story so far on my masterlist!
You were nervous. Friends with Johnny since diapers, and somehow you were nervous to meet him in five minutes. You glanced at the time—make that four minutes.
Pacing back and forth in front of the door, you smoothed down your dress again. All Johnny had told you was to dress up. He might be a fashion king, but he wasn’t exactly the best at sharing details. You’d teetered between twenty different outfits before finally settling on a happy medium. Couldn’t show up to a museum in an evening gown. Well, you supposed you could, if you even owned one. So the little black dress at the back of your closet was the final choice. Safe enough for just about every venue, since Johnny hadn’t told you where your date would be.
You sucked in a breath, fighting against the nerves tight in your stomach. Your first date, oh my gosh. How were you supposed to date Johnny? You’d done practically everything together already, what made this different from going to the movies together last week? Aside from the obvious—last week, you didn’t know what Johnny’s lips felt like on yours.
Then you groaned at your sudden realization. Jeez, you couldn’t do anything right in this relationship with Johnny. You were about to have your first date but you’d already had a hot and heavy makeout session at an unmentionable hour of the morning. So much for “will I kiss him afterwards?” Dating for five seconds, and everything was already out of order. You wanted to scream, but before your thoughts could really start spiraling, you heard a knock at the door.
You were sweating, oh gosh. Did you need to reapply deodorant? You froze, staring at nothing. Until another knock sounded, this time accompanied by Johnny’s familiar voice, “Yo, are you ready to go?”
You sagged in relief. Nothing else would have snapped you out of the nervous cycle better than Johnny being….well, Johnny. And when you finally convinced yourself to open the door, the sight of his easy smile was enough for yours to appear, too.
“Well, uh, hi,” he stuttered, making you giggle.
You slipped on your shoes, grabbed a small purse, and locked the door behind you. Then you linked arms with Johnny, “Alright, where to, mystery man? You haven’t told me anything.”
“That’s mostly because I didn’t figure anything out until today.”
Biting your lip to hold back a giggle, you tugged him down the hallway. “No wonder you didn’t share much detail. I should’ve known.”
Johnny tightened his grip on you when you stepped out of the elevator, leading you to the car. He didn’t say much, which was a bit out of character. Frowning up at him, you tried to meet his gaze. He finally looked down at you when he opened the passenger door for you to get in. “You, uh, you look really nice tonight.”
A small smile bloomed, “Not looking so bad yourself, hot stuff.”
* * * * *
Apparently Johnny had picked out a restaurant for dinner. A fancy restaurant. You read through the list of entrees with a barely-concealed grimace. “Do you know what any of these words mean?” you asked him.
Johnny beamed at you, “Nope, that’s half the fun.”
A waiter walked by with a tray destined for another table, and you both gaped at the miniscule portion sizes. “Those look like appetizers,” Johnny said, goggling at the tiny salad. “Maybe I can order several steaks. I’d need about five of them.” He started eyeing the menu again.
“As long as you’re picking up the tab,” you joked.
“Oh, I thought you were,” he said, all wide eyed innocence. You smacked his arm with your menu, fighting a grin at his usual antics. The couple at the next table shot you a look, and you hunched back in your seat.
“Don’t worry, I’m paying. Order whatever you’d like,” Johnny said, still puzzling over the ridiculous dinner options.
You frowned, reaching for your water. But shoot, it probably cost five bucks for tap, you thought with no small amount of horror. You set it back down before you drained more of Johnny’s wallet.
After a few more minutes of torturous silence, trying not to fidget too much, you leaned forward. “Do we even have a waiter?”
Johnny jerked upright, looking over his shoulder at the man in question. “I don’t know?”
“I’ve been trying to make eye contact with the staff for five minutes and they’re all ignoring me.”
Johnny blinked at you. “Wait, are you ready to order?”
“No, I wanna ask if they charge for water.”
“No one charges for water,” he chortled.
“I bet it’s five bucks a glass,” you said, crossing your arms.
Now Johnny was really laughing, and half the restaurant was staring at your table. “Only if it’s imported from the crystal springs of Iceland,” he said, grinning.
“Wait, really?”
“Hell if I know,” Johnny said, making you snort some of your water. You shrunk down in your chair, hiding your red face while he kept laughing.
“I don’t know this man,” you said to the people at the next table. They stared at you, whispering among themselves. Pouting, you turned back to Johnny. “I can’t believe you booked a table here,” you cocked an eyebrow at him. “I thought we were burger joint people, not escargot snobs.”
“Do you really not wanna eat here?” he asked, propping his elbows on the table.
You opened your mouth to respond, but your waiter finally showed up to take your order. “Good evening, can I interest you in anything else to drink?”
“Any Icelandic sparkling water?” Now Johnny was the one snorting inelegantly.
The waiter laughed, despite not knowing the joke. “Can I interest you in a bottle of red? You seem like a red wine woman.”
You smiled politely, reaching for the wine list when he offered it to you. “Sure, I’ll take a look.”
The waiter smirked, eyes landing on you. “I’ll have to card you, miss.”
Your brows raised, but you complied, digging out your wallet. Across the table, Johnny cleared his throat, “Do I look like a red wine guy?” But the waiter barely glanced at him before his eyes were back on you.
“Your photo doesn’t do you justice,” the waiter commented, handing your ID back.
“No one looks good in those pictures,” you chuckled.
“I beg to differ,” he said, then nodded at the wine list. “What can I get you?”
You glanced over at Johnny, who was fidgeting enough to shake the table. Curious. “What do you recommend?” you asked, twirling a strand of hair around one finger.
“You might be interested in one of our finer vintages,” he began, leaning over your shoulder to point out a few wines on the list. You heard a subtle sound, and out of the corner of your eye, saw Johnny’s fingers rapping the table at a rapidly increasing pace. You bit your lip, focusing on the wines again, but not before adding a little more fuel to the fire. Time to test your theory. You crossed your legs, brushing one foot up Johnny’s calf in the process. The man jumped as if electrocuted, his knees banging into the underside of the table.
“How about this one?” you asked innocently, looking up at the waiter again.
“A lovely choice, though it is on the higher range, so I’m not sure—”
“We’ll take it,” Johnny announced, plucking the wine list from your fingers and shoving it at the waiter.
You raised an eyebrow, but the waiter simply smiled at you, apparently unbothered by growly Johnny. “I’ll bring that right out for you,” he said, taking the wine menu and leaving you to suffer over dinner options.
Johnny cleared his throat, leaning towards you again. “That waiter’s a bit weird, huh?” he asked, watching the man walk away. “He didn’t even ask what I wanted.”
You donned your best sparkly-eyed expression, “But he’s being so friendly! He really deserves a nice tip, he had some helpful suggestions.”
Johnny frowned, “He’s obviously flirting with you.”
“No way,” you laughed, waving him off.
Johnny rolled his eyes, “Trust me. He’s flirting with you more than I am, and I’m the one taking you on a date.”
You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Maybe you should start flirting with me some more, then.”
Johnny sent you an indecipherable look. You wondered if your teasing had worked. But Johnny seemed to have calmed down some, now that the helpful waiter was out of sight.
You shrugged, sitting back in your chair. You changed the subject, giving the man a break. “Seriously, we don’t need to spend this much on dinner. I feel bad.”
“I thought you’d like this place,” Johnny said, brows furrowing.
“I will literally go anywhere with you, it doesn’t matter, I just….I dunno, I feel like I don’t fit in here.” You weren’t quite sure how to express your fear that people would call you a gold-digger or something, only dating Johnny now that he’d achieved success. Even if the two of you knew better, it still made your stomach twist. And not in the nice way it did while watching Johnny’s hands playing with his water glass. Shoot, shoot, shoot, now his fingers were wet from the condensation. You really didn’t need to know what that looked like. Had his hands always been that large? You shifted in your seat.
Johnny’s mouth twisted in a wry smile, “I don’t know if either of us really fit in with the rich old person vibe, but I heard the food is good.”
I’d rather have a bite of you, you thought to yourself, twisting the napkin in your lap. You’d never seen him in a suit before. Or at least, not in person.
Johnny coughed suddenly, staring at you with wide eyes. “What?”
Oh shit, did you say that out loud? Your cheeks burned. “Um, I’d be, uh,” you stuttered, trying to cover your mistake, all confidence extinguished. “We could get burgers, or something.”
Johnny sat back in his chair, eyes on yours. He smirked, and you wanted to disappear into a hole in the ground. Oh no, he definitely heard you.
“As long as I get to keep watching you,” Johnny said, voice low. “You really are beautiful, not just tonight. Every night.”
You opened your mouth, not sure what to say, but knowing that you wanted Johnny to keep looking at you like that. Like you were the main course. “Johnny, I—”
“Your wine, miss,” the waiter had returned. You bit back a frown, knowing he was just doing his job. But he seriously couldn’t have waited another minute?
“Thank you,” you murmured, sampling the first sip before allowing the waiter to pour both glasses.
“Can I interest you in any appetizers?” he asked, pouring Johnny’s wine.
You blinked, having forgotten the menu entirely. Across the table, Johnny pulled out the menu, but before he could point anything out, the waiter was hovering over your shoulder. “Might I recommend the cheese board? It will pair beautifully with this bottle.”
“Might I tell you my order?” Johnny said. His smile was sharper than before. You might have teased him some more, but you got a bit distracted by Johnny’s jawline as he turned to speak to the waiter. Honestly, you were having trouble tearing your eyes away from him all night. It felt like seeing him for the first time, and in a way, you supposed you were. You’d always known Johnny was attractive, since the time all boys started to look cute. You’d just never let yourself think about it too much. Best friend mental boundaries and all that.
Maybe if Johnny hadn’t said anything on that night, you wouldn’t have ever seen him like this. You wouldn’t have allowed yourself to admire the column of his neck, or his long fingers as they unbuttoned the top of his shirt. It would’ve been you and your stupid butterflies trapped in the friend zone forever.
Thoroughly distracted now, you bit your lip as you wondered what Johnny’s neck would look like with some new decorations.
“You realize they sell food here, right? You don’t have to look at me like I’m an appetizer,” Johnny whispered across the table dramatically. You startled, looking around, but the waiter had left at some point during your daydream. Oh gosh, did you drool? You pressed the back of your hand to your face discreetly, relieved to find nothing of the sort.
Then your brain caught up to Johnny, and you looked up at him with a smirk, “You’re too big to be an appetizer.”
Johnny choked on a laugh, covering his mouth to hide his smile when the other diners looked your way. When he appeared to have himself under control again, he eyed you from head to toe—or at least what he could see from across the table. He shot you a grin, “You’ll find out soon enough, won’t you?”
You watched him through your lashes, not quite sure what to make of him anymore. You’d had your fair share of fun with other guys, but never in a million years had you imagined flirting with Johnny so blatantly. Let alone in a fancy five star restaurant like this.
A sudden presence at your side startled you, and you jumped a little when the waiter reached over your shoulder to set a dish down. “Sorry for startling you,” he murmured, moving away slightly, but not before brushing your shoulder in apology. “Should I leave you with this for now, or are you ready to order?”
Johnny’s eyes flashed, and you bit back a curse at the waiter’s truly stellar ability to interrupt. “We’re fine, thank you,” you said, unable to stop watching Johnny. Or his hand, slowly tightening into a fist on top of the table.
“Would you like to hear the specials tonight?”
You donned a polite smile, nodding at the waiter to continue. While he read down the list of fancy-sounding entrées, you turned your smile on Johnny, who was vibrating in his seat again. You could’ve sworn your water glasses were shaking, and you held back a giggle. You uncrossed and recrossed your legs, extra slowly to make sure he got the message when you “accidentally” brushed his knee this time. The vibrations stopped, and his eyes burned into you.
“Thank you, we’ll keep looking over the menu,” Johnny interrupted the waiter, his voice deeper than before. Your smile only grew.
Once the waiter was out of earshot, you leaned in. “Can we leave? I can’t even kiss you here.”
“Yep, yes, absolutely,” Johnny said, standing up the second the words were out of your mouth. He nearly upended the table, making you snort. “Right now,” he nodded, striding for the exit.
You scrambled out of your chair, rushing after him. “Johnny,” you hissed, grabbing his sleeve. “We didn’t pay yet.”
He came to a halt in the hallway, and you nearly ran into his back. Then Johnny turned around, and you became very aware of the semi-secluded location as he moved closer. You squeaked out a panicked, “Not here!” You backed away until he finally reached out, one hand circling your waist to reel you in.
Johnny’s eyes moved over your shoulder, then back to yours. He smirked, leaning in close enough for you to feel his lips brushing your cheek as he murmured, “Tell the valet to get the car. I’ll grab the wine.”
You could’ve sworn you felt his hand brush down your back, lower. Your cheeks burned hotter. But when you turned, Johnny’s broad shoulders were disappearing around the corner, and the waiter was hurrying in the opposite direction.
* * * * *
You ended up ditching the car and walking around the neighborhood. You only looked slightly out of place with your high heels and makeup when you ended up at a tteokbokki joint. You’d played rock paper scissors between that and burgers, and Johnny won, as usual.
After dinner, you were reasonably close to your apartment, so Johnny offered to walk you home. It felt like another one of your late-night adventures, except you were usually in sneakers. When your feet got tired, you stopped in the middle of the block to take off the killer heels, sighing in relief. You slung the straps over your wrist, prepared to keep trudging along, when Johnny swooped in. One second, you were on the ground, the next, you were admiring the top view of Johnny’s ass from where you were dangling over his shoulder.
“Johnny, what the fuck,” you asked breathlessly, dying of laughter. And from his shoulder digging into your diaphragm.
“Are you crazy? You could cut your feet open,” he scolded you.
“At least there’s a nice view,” you sighed, reaching down to pat his butt.
Johnny put a little bounce in his next step, and you grunted at the impact. You could practically feel his smug little grin. “Hands off the merchandise.”
“How is that fair? You totally copped a feel back at the restaurant.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Bull,” you said. “You went all ‘alpha male’ with that nice waiter.”
Johnny huffed, “I wasn’t jealous.”
You grinned in victory. “I never said you were, mister offering-up-information. Now put me down, you caveman.”
Johnny’s grip on your thighs loosened, and his hands slid up to your waist, holding you tightly as he helped you back down. You froze for a second when your feet hit the ground, not expecting to be face-to-face with him so suddenly. “Wait right there,” Johnny said firmly, finally releasing your waist.
You blinked at him in confusion, watching as he slid his suit jacket off. Your eyes widened when he reached for you, but it was only to wrap the jacket around your waist, tying the sleeves into a knot to hold it in place.
“There,” Johnny said, nodding at his handiwork. Then he turned, crouching down slightly. “Alright, princess, hop on.”
You beamed at him, not that he could see it. It wouldn’t be a walk with Johnny if he didn’t end up carrying you at the end of the night, you chuckled to yourself. You were fiercely grateful to Johnny for thinking of his jacket—you weren’t quite sure how long your skirt was, now that you were wrapped around him like a koala.
“Thanks, Johnny,” you mumbled, burying your face in his neck. “You’re the bestest.” You left a smacking kiss on his cheek, and he laughed, tightening his hold on your legs.
Finally, you arrived at your apartment building. You slid your heels back on, balancing with one hand on Johnny’s arm. “I’ll walk you up,” he said once you straightened.
But when you got to your door, you hesitated, unsure what to say. Was this the part where you kissed him goodnight? You were torn, so at odds with the way the night resembled your old friend dates, only now things were different. What were you supposed to do?
“So,” Johnny drawled, leaning against the wall. “Where’s my tip?”
You stared at him, incredulous. “Your tip?” you repeated.
“Johnny’s chauffeur service isn’t free,” he said. “And if I remember correctly, you still owe me for last time.”
You cocked a hip, smirking slightly. “Any preferred payment methods?”
Johnny blew you an air kiss, and you made a show of catching it. “I take cash or card,” he informed you.
“What a shame,” you murmured, dropping your purse in front of the door. “I seem to have lost my wallet.”
He watched you carefully, barely blinking as you approached him, one slow step at a time. “Apps?”
You stopped mere inches away, “Not a single one.”
He swallowed, and your eyes tracked the movement. Your daydream from before came back with a vengeance—you bit your lip at the thought of marking him up. Then you leaned in, resting one hand on his chest. His heart pounded through the thin dress shirt.
“Will this do?” you asked, lips just barely brushing his. Nothing else touched, aside from your fingertips on his sternum, but you could’ve sworn you felt him shiver.
Oh so slowly, Johnny reached out, hands ghosting over your hips. You smiled against him, then melded your lips to his, bypassing whatever hesitations were holding you back. What was the worst that could happen?
You felt Johnny teasing at the seam of your lips and gratefully opened for him. He inhaled sharply when you inched forward, your chest brushing his. You couldn’t hear anything but your heart racing. And when his fingers dug into your hips, you fell into the kiss. He pulled you in like a magnet until every part of you aligned with him. Your limbs felt molten, burning at the contact.
Johnny pulled away, but not for long. You gasped for air as his lips traced over your jawline, making their way to the delicate skin beneath your ear. He pressed hot kisses there until your neck arched back obediently. And when he nipped at your throat, you whimpered. Thoughtlessly, your hips rocked forward. Johnny gave voice to a deep groan, so you did it again.
Growling lightly, Johnny curled an arm around your waist to pull you harder against him. All of the breath left your body at the feel of his growing hardness against your belly. You fisted your hands in his collar, tugging him away from your neck. You caught a glimpse of his kiss-swollen lips and blown out pupils, then dove back in for more.
While your mouth danced with his, your hands dragged southward. Your fingernails caught on a button or two as you traced the muscle beneath. Now Johnny’s hips were bucking into yours. You grinned savagely into the kiss. You’d just reached his belt when Johnny ripped his mouth away from yours. “Woah, woah,” he gasped. “Slow down, there.”
You panted for air, “What’s wrong?”
Both of you were breathing hard, and you were having a hard time ignoring the elephant in the room. Er, hallway. “You’re not trying to take advantage of me on the first date, are you?” Johnny asked with a breathy chuckle.
You laughed softly, tilting your chin back to get a good look at him. “Is it really taking advantage if you want it, too?” You smirked at him, rolling your hips forward to emphasize your point.
He watched you through half-lidded eyes, and you could’ve sworn you felt him throb. But Johnny, ever the gentleman, smoothed his hand down your back, resting his head back against the wall rather than picking up where you left off. “Cut me some slack, I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight,” he said with a crooked smile.
Oh no, now you had heart eyes for the man. You pecked his chin to hide your cheesy grin. “You let me know when you are, hmm?” you hummed, placing another kiss to the base of his throat.
“Princess, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for you.”
You giggled, leaning back in his arms. “Am I so scary?”
Johnny sobered, meeting your gaze. “I just don’t want to mess anything up. Not with you.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” you smiled at him. “I trust you too much.”
“Oh yeah? You still haven’t told me what you wished for on your fourteenth birthday,” Johnny taunted.
You tilted your head, thinking back. “I didn’t tell you because I was hopelessly in love with you at the time,” you confessed. “Now that’s out in the open, I guess you can know.”
Johnny blinked, taken aback. “Even then?”
“Johnny, I think I’ve loved you forever,” you said, staring up at him. “So of course I wished for the same thing every year.”
“What was it?”
Your smile widened, “Well, it already came true. You said it, too.”
* * * * *
Masterlist
#johnny fluff#johnny imagines#johnny scenarios#johnny fanfic#johnny x reader#johnny suh fluff#johnny suh x reader#johnny suh imagines#johnny suh fanfic#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct fanfic#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 fic
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Love For The Faceless
Corpse Husband x Youtuber!Reader(Female)
Warnings: Swearing
Genre: Fluff
Summary: Y/N is a YouTube gamer who has recently gained a much larger following thanks to the streams she does with her friends. Naturally, considering her faceless and bodiless nature, people are starting to get curious about her. When she finally follows her friend Corpse’s example, a lot more than her hands is revealed.
Requested by anon, you know who you are 😉 Thank you so much for placing a request and hope this fic fulfills the expectations you have for it.
“Hey!“ I greet the lobby as I finally hop into the Discord call after quickly saying ‘hi‘ to my audience.
I’ve been a YouTuber for four years now and I’ve only recently started streaming, encouraged to do so by my best friend Rae. She’s the one who got me in multiplayer games such as Among Us and Phasmophobia which led me to meet her amazing gaming squad that consists of some of the most famous names on the platform. They are all wonderful people and I will forever be in Rae’s debt for introducing me to them. However, becoming friends with Felix, Sean and the rest of the team brought not only a more fulfilled life, but also a small boost in following. Who am I kidding, it wasn’t small. It was overwhelming, terrifying even.
My YouTube channel had a little over a million subscribers at the start of quarantine and now....now it’s closer to three million. Speaking of three million, I’m about to reach it any day now and it’s really hard to believe. I’m a gaming youtuber and I’ve never considered changing my genre despite expecting to not get any attention whatsoever, with all the big names on the platform. I was convinced not even as many as a hundred people would stumble across my videos and now here we are.
My OG subscribers are very supportive of my sudden growth and are defending me when my newer fans ask for a face reveal or whatnot. While we’re on that topic I might have to mention that not even my YouTube friends, and that includes Rae have seen my face. I’ve been faceless and bodiless for the entirety of my time on social media. Some claim I do it to grab more attention or for dramatic effect, but the reason is beyond that. I’m not shallow. Actually, shallow people are the reason I don’t show my face. I’ve never been the prettiest, but my middle school bully thought that I wasn’t lacking self confidence enough. As a result, I ended up with a not so handsome scar on my right cheek that starts from the corner of my mouth and nearly misses my eye. Yeah, it’s a long and pretty noticeable scar that has thankfully become less and less obvious as the years have progressed. Still, it’s not something I’d like to show to my viewers.
Eight ‘hi’s greet me back, each making my smile grow wider. “Sorry I’m late guys. Technical difficulties.”
“Don’t worry.“ Rae’s voice dominates over the rest, “Corpse still isn’t here so we’re waiting for him.“
I mute myself on the Discord call and take a look at my comments. I’m most flattered by the comments about my voice. Seeing as how they don’t have much to compliment about me other than my content, they make the nicest comments about my voice, personality and humor. Those comments are the ones who warm my heart most. Even when people in my day to day life compliment my appearance I can’t find it in me to believe they are being genuine. I’d like to believe these amazing people are being one hundred percent honest when they tell me they like me for who I am and not for what I might look like.
“Sorry I’m late guys.“ A deep voice causes me to even physically jolt, switching my focus from the comments to the Among Us lobby where my eyes land on the newly materialized black avatar.
“Hi Corpse.“ Rae greets him.
“Hello mister who broke Twitter!“ Sean laughs, provoking the laughter of the rest of the players.
“Yeah, congratulations man. That’s a big deal.“ Felix chimes in.
“Thanks guys, but I think you’re forgetting we’re talking about a picture of my hand.“ Corpse chuckles timidly. I have noticed how shy he gets when someone gives him a compliment - like a snail slowly withdrawing in its shell. I find it adorable.
“That’s what makes it even better!“ I unmute my mic, sending my own congratulations.
“While we’re on that topic...“ Rae begins, waiting for the rest of us to shut our traps, suggesting she has something important to say. “Y/N, do you ever plan on doing a reveal like that? Not a face reveal. Just a body part reveal.“
I have no problem talking about the subject with friends but I get nervous when I’m supposed to discuss it with my fans. Seeing as how everyone, including myself, is streaming right now, I get a bit of a stutter in my speech. “Haven’t thought about it yet. But I guess a body part reveal is harmless.” I cringe immediately after letting the words leave my mouth, “That sounds so weird.”
Rae knows that I’m not too fond of my face, but I haven’t told her about my scar yet. I let almost all people I’ve met online think I’m using my lack of appearance for effect. For the mystery of it all. Mysteries attract people which equals attention. Attention equals views and the domino effect continues.
“Just a suggestion. No pressure.“ Rae adds quickly, knowing full well I get anxious when the subject is brought up in front of cameras. “Let’s get this game started, shall we.”
* * *
The idea dwells in my mind, sitting on the back burner even after I disconnect from the Discord call. I’m sitting in my gaming chair, which was a gift for my two million milestone, and weighing out the pros and cons of the action Rae suggested I take.
“It’s a picture of your fucking hand, dummy. How bad can it turn out?“ I say out loud, shaking my head at my indecisiveness. “You’ll be fine.”
In a blur, two pictures are already posted on my Instagram. The first one captioned ‘Took a leaf from my friend’s book. Did I do it right @ corpsehusband?’ and the second ‘Thanks, Rae. These are on you.’
Rae’s POV
As I’m watching a movie in my living room, I get a notification from Instagram, informing me that Y/N has posted for the first time in a while.
I scoff, “More like the first time in forever.”
The first thing that comes to my mind is the possibility of her reaching that three million milestone that’s been long time coming. I bring the glass of water that’s sitting on my coffee table to my lips, taking a sip as I tap the notification. The picture I see makes me hurry to put the glass back down so I don’t drop it. Y/N’s hand. Her fingers are covered with several thin rings each. And here I thought Corpse had too many rings, this girl has at least two on every finger!
Then my eyes land on the second picture she has posted only minutes after the first and my heart drops. I struggle to get the water that’s been sitting in my moth down my esophagus while my mind is struggling with the task to comprehend the picture I’m looking at.
Another hand is resting on top of Y/N’s. A hand also covered in rings but fewer and larger. The nails are painted black.
I think I know who it belongs to.
Before I can even finish the thought, I’m dialing Y/N. She picks up after the second ring, sound cheery as ever as she greets me. “Hey Rae!”
“Don’t you ‘Hey Rae’ me!” I practically scream. I hate being kept in the dark about anything ever so this is just driving me mad. On top of all, she’s my best friend, for fuck’s sake. “Is that Corpse in the photo with you?!”
“Ugh....“ the cheeriness to her voice is all but gone now.
I go on with my rant, not giving her the time to reply. Not that she would reply. I bet she doesn’t know what to say. “So he knows where you live?! Or was the picture taken at his place?! He knows what you look like?! You have seen him! He has seen you in real life but me, your best friend, haven’t!!! You are breaking Covid 19 protection laws to take pictures?! Are you fucking serious, Y/N?!”
There’s a long moment of silence which frustrates me even more but I literally have run out of things to yell and the power to be angry. I mean, I still am, I just can’t express it.
“Rae, sweetheart, please calm down. You’re scary when you’re mad.“ This girl has some fucking nerve! She’s on the verge of laughing!
“Listen here you...“
“Rae, please stop scaring my girlfriend.“ That oh so distinguishable, oh so familiar voice interrupts me.
I am flabbergasted, for a lack of a better term.
“Now that we’ve got you quiet, I can explain.“ Y/N pics up the conversation, “Corpse and I have been dating for six, almost seven months now. We started dating around Easter after talking for quite some time. We moved in together at the end of September. All thanks to you, Rae. You’re the best.” She pauses to breathe in real quick, “There, all caught up?“
I’m in no less shock than I was before she explained. Actually, I think I might be even more confused now. It all just feels like a fever dream. “Yes...no. I don’t fucking know! I need details, Y/N!”
“Details later.“ Corpse makes his presence known once again, “We’re watching Family Guy right now. Talk to you later.“
“Love you, Rae!“ Y/N calls out before the line goes dead.
My arm goes limp, dropping my phone on the couch next to me.
“Motherfuckers” I mumble under my breath.
Y/N’s POV
It’s been a week since Rae has stopped talking to both Corpse and me. I know she just needs some time to cool off. In the meantime, the rest of our friends were informed and, as oppose to Rae, were nothing but supportive and overjoyed. I bet Rae feels the same way though. Sean, Dave and the rest of the gang have confirmed that she’s incredibly happy for us and says she noticed a spark between me and him since day one, but she can’t help but be mad at us, and especially me, for not telling her sooner.
“Any regrets?“ I remember Corpse asking me when we hung up on her after dropping the bomb.
“Not being able to see her face when she saw the picture.“ I beam at him, feeling as content as ever.
He laughs, agreeing with me before leaning down to kiss me.
@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios
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natural love potion; h.p.
Pairing: harry potter x fem!Gryffindor!reader
Timeline: HBP / 6th year
Warning(s): cussing, mentions of dying and blood, submission, reader pining
Word Count: 5k
A/N: Hey there! This is my first ever post. I would love to hear your thoughts!
Harry and Y/N are friends. Just friends. Much like Harry and Hermione, there is nothing out of it that is going on between them. Not until that day in potions.
—
“Are you done with my potion?“
“You mean, will Professor Slughorn call you by your name? Then yes, Wallenby.“
It was the first week of another year at Hogwarts. New faces, new prefects and even new professors are introduced, as usual. Professor Slughorn is the newest addition to the faculty and to have a good first impression with the students, he's given the 6th years Amortentia, the love potion, as their first Potions homework.
They were supposed to put it in their selected food or drink and it had to be unnoticeable. Why would the Potions Teacher assign this kind of homework to the students? No one knows. But this certainly gave him a good first impression to a large number of students.
“Blimey Harry, we've been rotten at Potions ever since. Now look at you, it's as if you've taken private lessons with Snape the whole summer. You’re the bloody Potions Master in our year now!“
The two Gryffindors are making their way out of their dorm room towards the Common Room with Harry holding a small basket of cookies to bring it in the dungeons where the potions classroom is at. Y/N is patiently waiting for them near the Portrait as several students greet her along the way.
"G'morning."
“Where’s ‘Mione?“ Ron exclaimed without even acknowledging the girl’s presence.
“Uhm, shouldn't you know that, Mr Prefect?"
The male prefect then realized the time and his supposed agenda to escort first years to the Great Hall. Harry scolded him of how much he and others would kill to be in his position and yet he’s never given it any importance.
“Godric, have mercy on me. Hermione’s gonna kill me!” the redhead exclaimed after getting a playful slap behind his head from the Chosen One before rushing away from the two.
“Much worse than that, she’s gonna make him expelled,“ she jokes with a mouthful of cookie from the small basket Harry was holding. "Mhm, you have no idea how badly I've been craving cookies since last week! This is good, Har. Where’d ya buy it?“
Harry, before realizing what happens, freezes. He was too busy lecturing his best friend that he didn't notice a hand sneaking into his potion, the cookie. His hand slowly snakes its way to the contents of the basket that has supposedly four cookies but now has only three. “Y/N!“
"What?" she chuckles dreamily.
"We need to get you to the Hospital Wing."
“What for? You put poison in it, didn't you?“ Y/N continues to chuckle dreamily.
Harry stares at his friend as if she was some peculiar experiment. “How are you feeling, Y/N?“
“I feel like . . .“ she sighs dramatically as she gazes far away, mesmerized. The effects are plainly obvious. “I feel like falling.“
“Falling?“ Harry's stomach twisted. This is what makes Potions classes bothersome, the uncertainty of knowing whether the potion you brew is right or wrong. You can only know it if you’re a professional or by testing the potion done, which in Harry’s case, Y/N would do for him.
"I'm falling in love, Harry. I'm falling in love with you."
And boy was he really the Potions Master.
The raven-haired boy's cheeks got warm the second those words escaped his friend's lips. The two are only friends and have never acted more than that. Seeing this new side of Y/N for Harry is too foreign for him.
Sure, Harry has seen her date two boys from different houses, but being the recipient of her romantic antics has never crossed his path. His last romantical relationship, if you can call it that, was last year with the senior Ravenclaw Cho Chang. Even that didn't go well. He went on a single date with her just to make her believe he's in love with both Hermione and Y/N. Ever since then, he never thought about committing to any romantic relationship.
"Harry . . ." Y/N's hand reached out for his arm, grazing down slowly towards his hand with too much delicacy. Their hands are now intertwined. The both of them have never reached this close proximity, having learned now that one of his best friend's palms are soft but slightly calloused in the fingertips from playing muggle instruments and Harry fears that when Ron finds out about this act, he will tease them nonstop which isn't fair for Y/N. ". . . I know this may sound all too sudden, but, I have loved you ever since."
He didn't respond. He tries to block all of this sudden affection out of his mind knowing these are all artificial.
"Don't you love me back?"
"Of course I do. You're my best frie-"
If his cheeks were warm, now, his ears as well are on fire. Y/N has thrown herself to the flustered boy, locking his neck and face in her arms, squealing in happiness like a kid. Holding hands is a new thing for The Boy Who Lived but hugging him as if to let the world know he's someone's is another thing.
Very few people have ever hugged him in all the history of his 16 years of existence, knowing the story of his parents and the lack thereof. His godfather, Mrs Weasley and Hermione are the only ones — as far as he knows — written in a tiny piece of parchment of the list of people who have hugged him. Yet none of them could compare to this hug as those mentioned acted parental towards him.
Students are now starting to pass them out of the Common Room towards the Great Hall. One of those shouted, "get a room!" They're still standing just beside the Portrait Hole where Ron has left them both to deal with his own romance.
"Uhm, Y/N, why don't we go get ourselves some breakfast first, yes?"
"Yes! Let's tell 'Mione and Ron that we're finally together!"
—
Breakfast was agonizingly slow, to Harry's opinion. Y/N can't stop giggling beside him and feeding him like an infant earning them attention from the others.
"Oi, Potter! Didn't know that you two are . . ."" Seamus makes a kissing face earning a few cackles and sniggers from their other friends at the table.
The boy just ignored them with an eye roll, amusing the two friends in front of him.
"Leave them be, Harry. Besides, when was the time Y/N acted on you this way, huh?" They all diverted their gaze to the dazed girl. Eyebrows knitted in concentration as she feeds him but at the same time doing her best to get as close to Harry as the universe could possibly give her the opportunity to. They've never seen her this in love and affectionate. And the two thought that Harry just deserves it even just for a while. "Never, right? You better make it worthwhile."
"Thanks, Ron. Really helpful." He answered with his famous eye-roll.
"Always here for you, mate "
"I just don't get why we couldn't tell Professor Slughorn immediately. I mean, I'm sure he has something for Y/N. Or Madam Pomfrey-"
"Yeah? In which I'm sure is also your easiest ticket to detention."
The boy grunts some incoherent words of profanities under his breath. Not only was he getting embarrassed by the fact that one of his close friends is acting like his girlfriend but dragging Y/N along with his catastrophic life is just too unfair on her side. She didn't ask for this. Plus, detention in the second week of a new school year doesn't sound good.
The Brightest Witch reminded them not to take Potions lightly. It may sound like not the most helpful subject in a wizarding war, but can get you expelled once meddled with students. In short, what happened to Y/N is very illegal. You should not use or test your Potions project with another student. Plus, Filch will go nuts if he gets the news that a student gave another student a love potion.
“Well, at least, now we know that your Potion worked well.”
"Come on, we're going to be late for DADA."
On their way towards Snape's classroom — a fact Harry still can't accept — Y/N's fingers are interlaced with Harry's as they walk. She's given him her bag as that's what boyfriend and girlfriends do. In the classroom, Y/N didn't sit in her usual spot but literally kicked Ron out of his chair to sit beside Harry, the boy just mouths a sorry.
Her usual focus from the class was now inclined to Harry himself alone the whole class. Out of all their major subjects, Harry is known to have the Defence Against the Dark Arts class on top of it all. Y/N knows it, having been a member of Dumbledore's Army. Everybody knows it. But with Snape being the teacher and Y/N constantly caressing his left cheek every time Snape's back faces them, the said subject is somehow kicked out of its place on top.
"Y/N, do you mind?" He tried but obviously failed to ask her to stop in the nicest way he can utter. "I mean, it'll be really hard for us to pass DADA, and eventually NEWTs, if we're both distracted." His voice is hoarse and soft, one way or another. Afraid to hurt the girl beside him and cause a scene. Letting his former Potions Professor know his mischief doing is the least of his priorities for the day. Merlin, at least, let this day finish without anyone knowing.
"Harry, my love, it's not my fault your eyes are distracting. They're the most beautiful green not even the most beautiful forest in the world could compare to."
Once again, his cheeks and ears are on fire for the 37th time this morning. Most of the reasons are from the nonstop compliments he's receiving from the girl. It didn't take much energy from him to not believe all of it. He grew up with the Dursleys, they didn't fail to engrave in his mind his place and worth.
"Care to share in class what you're chattering about, Mr Potter?" The elder snarled in the middle of his discussion, letters extending out of his tongue as per usual. He finally notices, as always, Harry making another noise across the room.
"Nothing, Professor."
The said Professor narrowed his eyes to the duo. He knows, of course, he knows, he was a bloody Potions Professor ever since he accepted the job offered to him at Hogwarts.
"I'm saying this once and only once," he positioned himself in front of the two, now leaning to the Gryffindor boy to let just the two hear what he'll say. "Fix this, or you will face more vile punishment than getting expelled."
The class was dismissed with 50 points taken from Gryffindor. Harry is used to it, even his other fellow Gryffindors weren't surprised anymore. As a matter of fact, as long as he is breathing, infinite points will be deducted from their house.
As they were heading out of the classroom, Hermione gently peels the zonked out Y/N away from her grasp on the poor boy. "Harry, you can't let the other teachers know about this."
"Well, what do you suggest then?"
The next words that came out of her lips are like caffeine to the sleepy heads of Harry and Ron. They could not believe she could say such things. Even Y/N would have been gobsmacked if she just wasn't in a daze.
"Don't go to classes?" Her tone was laced with uncertainty. But she couldn't think of any other option, she'd rather let them take a day off classes than have Harry nor Y/N expelled.
"Can I come with them?"
—
Harry Potter's Monday was bizarrely different from his usual ones. He has spent the whole day with Y/N trailing behind him like a baby duck. His hand used to be sweaty the whole time with her's but now, it felt more comforting than awkward interlocked with his.
The castle was quiet, with all the students in class, it gave him privacy and away from the prying eyes of malicious gossipers. They couldn’t get inside the Common Room as some 7th years are hanging there knowing they have fewer classes and more time for reviewing for their NEWTs, library; some teachers roam around there, Hagrid’s Hut; knowing Hagrid, as much as they love the guy, couldn’t keep his mouth shut from secrets.
As much as he dreads going to class all the time, it was strange to see the castle this quiet without Ron’s company.
He was throwing pebbles by the lake to pass time as Y/N sat on the ground behind him, making them their Charms essay homework.
The boy studies her features. Y/N wasn’t so bad. Her hair’s tidier than Hermione’s. She was actually beautiful. He would’ve taken her to the Yule Ball when Ravenclaw Cho Chang declined his invitation and if it wasn’t for that Slytherin bloke asking her out instantly - her first ex-boyfriend who Y/N dated a few months back. Her hair tucked in her ear as she focuses on what to write next in her essay. Harry feels bad for making her write his homework but the girl insisted. Guess you’d do anything for the people you love.
He looks back on the lake. Thinking of the people who have loved him did everything they could to protect him, even dying. First, his parents, then Sirius even Jesus, what did he do to deserve this fate. What good will it be if the people he loves are gone?
Two arms wrapped around his chest from behind startled him.
“You’re tense.” Y/N’s hand unwrapped his bloodied hand. He didn’t even notice he was gripping the stone tightly, his scarlet blood staining the object.
“It’s nothing.“ He cranes his neck to stare at the girl on his right shoulder. Her eyes are full of concern and love. Love that he created out of a goddamn potion for a goddamn homework. A love that could never be compared to the love of his parents and Sirius. A goddamn false love. His brows knitted before jumping out of Y/N’s embrace with panic.
“I think we can go inside now.“
The rest of the day consists of Harry, trying to ignore all of Y/N’s pining over him. He tries to remember that all of these are not her fault, there’s nothing to get mad at her about. Running away from her is also impossible as she committed herself to cling to Harry’s arm as if her life depends on it.
Finally, classes are over and dinner is approaching. The two are reunited with Hermione and Ron in a secluded area of a random hallway, as Harry was hoping to get less attention from other students as they got earlier at breakfast.
“How are the love birds?“ Ron teases, seeing their hands locked still.
“Oh, it was majestic, Ron! Harry took me to the Black Lake even though today was a school day. I feel a little rebellious, to be honest.“
“Good hiding spot.“ Hermione commented.
“I’m not going to the Great Hall for dinner. So you two can bring Y/N instead.“
“No! I’m coming with you!“
“Y/N aren’t you tired of my company yet?“
“I could never! I love you.“
Ron snickered pretty loudly in front of them, even Hermione couldn’t suppress a smile.
“Aren't you two just adorable?” the redhead continues to tease.
“Don’t worry Harry, Ron and I will bring you supper instead.“
The day has finally ended and the effects of the Amortentia, as what the favourite book of Harry says, wears off after 24 hours. It was past Y/N’s get up time but fortunately for them, she took her time sleeping exactly until the effects wore off.
She moans with pain as she tries to sit up from her bed.
"How are you feeling?"
"'Mione?"
"It's me."
"I feel like a full construction site is inside my head . . . and I feel awful. Like, waking up on the wrong side of the wrong bed."
"Do you feel anything . . . unusual? Like, something or particularly someone you want to obsess about?"
The girl looks at her strangely and then at the time. "Bloody heck Hermione, aren't we late for breakfast?"
Clearly, Y/N remembers none from the incident.
Meanwhile, at the Great Hall, Harry is tapping his leg out of anxiousness. If his Amortentia was too strong and didn’t ease away, he might as well pack his belongings and leave Hogwarts voluntarily. His precious book from the Half-Blood Prince has mentioned the cure for a love potion but the ingredients are only held by the Potions Teacher. The horrors there will be once he mentions this to a teacher is unimaginable, he’d rather spend the day with a dazed Y/N than get lectures from a teacher.
“Don’t worry about your girlfriend, mate,“ Ron’s words are muffled from a chicken leg in between his teeth from across him. “They’re here.“
Across the Hall, the two girls are striding towards their place.
“Why are you at my seat?”
“Uhhh . . .” stammering, Ron glances at Harry for help. They were normally sitting beside each other but after the incident yesterday, they thought Y/N would love to sit next to the Golden Boy. “I-I don’t know either,“ just sliding to his side to make room for the two.
“How are you feeling, Y/N?“ Harry asks the dishevelled looking girl in front of him. Both Hermione and Ron - who are sitting side by side - are listening to the exchange intently.
“Honestly, I feel bad. Like, subconsciously, I know this day would be so bad,” Y/N sighs depressingly. “Why, are you alright?“
“Yeah,” deep inside the boy, a strong wave of relief passed him. His body was cold from the nerves, but knowing his Amortentia had finally worn off, those nerves were showered off of him with a warm relieving feeling. “Actually, I’ve never been better.”
“Well, at least one of us has woken up on the right side of the bed.“ she chuckles half-heartedly. Harry felt guilty hastily after hearing those words. It’s all your fault dipshit.
As Y/N is back to sitting beside Hermione, she is also back to her normal self. Talking to her alone about their Charms homework that she never remembers making and some other random stuff that the boys could not give a care about. She was back to not paying any attention to the Golden Boy at the front who she absentmindedly know is staring at her.
Morning supper was finished and the quartet is now in Snape’s classroom. Y/N was back to sitting beside the cute Hufflepuff guy she's been crushing on and Harry is back stuck with his blabbering best friend.
As Snape discusses some more non-verbal spells and the techniques, he takes time to stop rounding the class in front of Y/N who was again, back to her normal self, her focus never leaving the Teacher. He stares at her, looking past her eyes and seeing that his student’s consciousness is back before trudging towards Harry and Ron.
“10 points from Gryffindor,” he grunted under his breath, which actually is the first compliment Harry has ever received from the elder man.
Classes ended and dinner came, Harry finds himself staring at the girl in front of him. She was talking to Seamus, one of their good friends, chatting and laughing with him as if he'd said the funniest joke ever told. The food on his plate has long been forgotten.
"Quit staring, you creep."
Harry looks back at his best friend beside him with a mixture of confusion. "Don't tell me you think I wouldn't notice."
What the boy was talking about, he has no idea.
"When will you tell Y/N?" Again, he replied with a look. "About the incident, of course."
Harry wasn't planning on ending his friendship with Y/N because of his carelessness. He could've just sealed the cookies in a jar or box so no one could see it, but no. He had to display it for the world to see. Hermione disagrees with his plan, of course.
The three of them found the perfect time to be alone in the common room, students are still chatting and scampering about their day anywhere but their dorms. So they decided then, to tell Y/N what happened.
"So that's why I felt bad. Isn't that the after-effects of Amortentia?"
Three heads nodded in front of her, studying her features.
"Well, I'm glad it was you, Harry. Could you imagine if it was Ron?" Y/N visibly grimacing at the thought. "But to be honest, it was all my fault. I should've asked you first before eating it. Thank you for being honest with me, Harry."
It wasn’t really what the boy was expecting as a response. He was anticipating more anger or embarrassment from the girl.
Their usual cycle is back. Y/N was completely Y/N Y/L/N again it's as if nothing happened. The four of them never mentioned the incident again and Harry catches himself being disturbed with that. It made him feel some things like shouldn’t Y/N be shy around me? Or shouldn’t Ron tease us still about what happened? Or shouldn’t Hermione lecture us and watch over us more to not repeat the incident again? These thoughts run through his head as every day passes.
He also catches himself getting extra angrier at the Hufflepuff boy, Y/N’s crushing about, every time they have a Quidditch tournament. Especially that time when she barges in the Common Room pretty loudly yelling at everyone that she got a date with the cute Hufflepuff.
“Y/N can you help me find a good present for Mrs Weasley’s birthday on our next Hogsmeade trip?” He tried, one Friday morning, to get in between them.
“Of course, Harry! But, can we do it after my date?“
“Right . . . you have a date.” Sounding a tad bit more disappointed than he really is.
“But,” Y/N responded with the syllable dragging along “I could tell him to go on the next visit instead and spend the day with my best friend?”
“Oh no, I don’t want you to cancel your date because of me.”
“Harry, I could even cancel my Charms class, Godric knows how much I love that class but, that’s beside the point. What I’m saying is that I’m here for you. Also, we’ve barely hung out anymore ever since you’ve been the, what does Ron call it, ah, the Potions master!”
“Not you too!” he playfully grunted all too loudly earning a laugh from the girl.
"Seriously, I would love to come with you.”
He never thought he'd say this but he misses Y/N. His Y/N, who cannot keep her hands to herself but Harry’s.
And before he could stop himself from getting deeper into his thoughts, he was left astounded. To his knowledge, all feelings he has for his best friend are only platonic but here he is, couldn't stop himself from the thoughts of Y/N. The way she used to have her focus engraved to the boy alone and him alone. It gives him so much angst every time Y/N hasn't given him enough attention for the day.
If this stupid Amortentia incident leads him into any feelings he'd be in deep shit.
Because Harry should not be bothered to get distracted. Quidditch season is starting, he's got new people relying upon his captainship. Besides Y/N has her eyes on someone else and he cannot risk losing their friendship knowing his feelings aren't being reciprocated.
Well there it is, he's already in deep shit.
So when their first game arrived playing against Slytherin, he is rather surprised to see Ron winning them a high rank.
He knows he deserved the glory that's why as the captain of the team, he let them have the post quidditch game party in their common room. The parties were usually lead by the twins, but knowing they're already gone, he didn't know that his fellow housemates apprehended their festivities.
"Weasley! Weasley!"
They watch as Ron finally gets recognition for his own efforts alone. Y/N was nowhere to be found, probably with her new boyfriend, and Hermione was shattered when Lavender Brown smothered Ron with kisses.
The two are in a random staircase trying to comfort one another. He doesn't know who needs more comforting, Hermione or him. Knowing he already lost someone who's never his also shattered his heart.
"How does it feel, Harry? When you see Y/N with another guy?"
To say that he's dumbfounded was an understatement. He couldn't be that careless with his so-called feelings now, is he?
"I know. I see the way you look at her. You two are my best friend."
He dreaded this conversation happening. The Golden Boy has never intended on developing feelings toward his friend. Unlike Hermione and Ron, the two have been having this romantical tension ever since their first year. His feelings toward Y/N is purely conjured by an incident they never dared to speak about. The boy believes that these stupid feelings of him will only break their friendship and Harry's not risking that.
"Why don't you try something?" Hermione is always the one they go to whenever they need help and whenever they're clueless about the next step. But this, this advice of hers is definitely one Harry's scared to listen to. "Hufflepuff boy is still not making any moves yet. You know, you're valid to think about yourself too. You've always thought about the others, you always prioritize us before yourself. You deserve to live too, Harry."
So Harry did listen.
In the Great Hall, he confided himself to sit beside Y/N all the time. Hermione doesn't mind the changes in their seating arrangement as she gets to sit with Ron anyway, so candidly speaking, it is a win-win situation for everybody.
He starts small, playfully feeding her (the way she used to), talking and listening to her talk about life in general. When they were walking towards their class, he would always offer to carry her bag, in which he never really waits for her response. Intermittently inviting her to do homework by the lake alone together. And every time they have Hogsmeade visits, he would buy her sweets at Honeydukes.
And Y/N notices. It didn't really take her long before she sees. She has convinced Hermione one night to tell her of her doings that day she was under Amortentia. Harry's new behaviour towards her has perfectly mirrored the story Hermione has told her.
Little did Harry know, the feelings eventually have been mutuals.
So when the Golden Boy was informed of this Christmas Party Professor Slughorn has assembled, he didn't hesitate to ask Y/N in an instant, too afraid that Yule Ball night might happen again. He was, for once, too grateful to be part of the Slug Club as Hufflepuff Boy was not part of it. Now that just minimizes his crush problem.
He has seen her in a ball gown back in their fourth year for their Yule Ball. But he never got the chance to be the one standing beside her throughout the night but now, tonight, he feels like the luckiest man.
Standing on the top of the stairway from the girls' dorm room was his best friend he never had feelings before until this year. She wasn't wearing the grandest of gown there is but this simple dress enhanced her features. She was walking down the stairs with a smile that gave a huge impact on how she looks. She was literally glowing.
"Hi."
"Y/N," he breathed, completely in awe of what feelings do to people.
He always sees Y/N every day, talks to her and laughs with her. She sees her perfectly like what normal best friends do. But after developing feelings for her, his mind is persuaded that she was the most beautiful person that walked on the planet.
Harry is infatuated. He felt as if he was under some spell. Is this how Y/N sees him, all those times she was under the love potion?
But Harry was sure, a hundred per cent, that this is not artificial feelings. He really likes her.
So after a very successful Christmas date, with Hermione being their third wheel, the two were back from being hip to hip. Harry was glad his Y/N is back. He's been wearing the pride of not having to use a love potion to get her back beside him. Because this time, Harry did not create an artificial love to make the girl he likes, like him back. This time, he did it right. He just needed to wait for the right time and place to ask her.
Christmas has passed and Harry's time is also running fast. Of course, his special assignment with Dumbledore has never left his mind. He would do the subtle talks with Professor Slughorn here and there. He felt as if he's running out of ideas to get what he needed and to make things worse, the Potions Master is already growing annoyed with him.
"Still no luck with Slughorn, then, I take it?"
"Luck . . . That's it. All I need's a bit of luck."
That evening, Harry was away the whole time. He missed dinner but Y/N waited on him in the common room. She knows that the Felix Felicis potion has no limits. Whatever the user's deepest desires, it will help give it to them. Y/N knows that at this very moment, Harry succeeded. She makes sure that there will be someone waiting on him to celebrate it with him.
Harry came back from the Headmaster's office bearing a report about Slughorn's memory with Tom Riddle. There, in the Gryffindor Common Room, he sees her sleeping in one of the tables far back. It was not hard to see her, with the time obviously past bedtime, she was all alone.
With the liquid luck still pumping in his veins, he rushed to her. Kneeling in front of her, the Golden Boy then gently wakes the girl up.
"Harry?"
"Y/N . . . I think I'm falling"
"Falling? What falling? Are you experiencing vertigo right now? Anxiety?"
"Worse than those."
And Y/N, moving on from her sleeping state, was now fully aware of where the conversation was going. She holds his inviting hand. "What is it, Harry?"
"Love . . . I'm falling in love."
Y/N smiles at how adorable the boy is looking right now. His hair is ever so dishevelled and his lips as red as cherry. He was the most oblivious boy she knows. Has only dated one yet here he is, kneeling in front of her. Confessing.
She knows that Felix is helping him with some luck because knowing the sober Harry, he would never be bold enough to say such things. Little did Harry know, he need not some luck as she was all too blessed to have him in her life. Because to Y/N's honest opinion, in this room, she was the luckiest.
"I'm falling in love with you, Y/N."
—
(Shamefully) tagging these amazing ppl: @harryjamespotterxreader @harrypotterxx @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts
#harry potter#harry potter and the half blood prince#harry potter x reader#harry potter masterlist#harry james potter x reader#harry potter x y/n#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagines#harry potter fluff#harry potter blurb#annemagus writes#romione#harry potter x gryffindor!reader#harry james potter#romione fanfic#harry potter fanfic#harry x reader#harry potter series#harry potter fic#harry potter books#harry potter x you
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A Pure Soul (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff x ADD!Autistic!reader)
Summary: Two weeks or so after Wanda arrives at the Avengers’ Place, (y/n) shows up. An autistic Avenger who’s extremely honest and who doesn’t really seem to mind just being by themself, but also is kind and even affectionate to others. Wanda’s smitten by this and does the unthinkable.
Request?: Nope. I’m literally just throwing this out of the back of my head.
From the Yandere Starter Prompts list by @yandere-mccree
Prompt: 5. “This world doesn’t deserve an angel like you.”
Warnings: (AOU Spoilers, CACW spoilers, IW spoilers, Endgame spoilers, torture sorta, sleep paralysis mention, ableism, slight manipulation?, kidnapping, mind-breaking mention)
Note: I wanted to try a bit more of a subtle Yandere vibe for Wanda. I’ve never really written one of these, so it might not be as great as I hoped. I don’t encourage or condone the unhealthy aspects.
Word Count: 3,268
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It’s only been a couple of weeks or so after she’d been taken from Sokovia after it was destroyed. Wanda’s still mourning the loss of her brother when you arrive. You're a shy person, not a fan of eye contact, but you do like touch, hugs in particular, as well as head pets.
Wanda doesn’t pay attention to you much at first. You’re just another Avenger to her; a nice change of pace, but that’s all. But then comes Lagos. Wanda now has guilt along with so much trauma. It’s no surprise when you hear her crying in her room one day, the door somehow left open a crack.
“I’m a terrible person,” she says softly, thinking no one heard.
You peek in and catch her with a pillow to her face, weeping. Your heart breaks. You know it’s on her, but she clearly feels terrible. You stand in the doorway until she soon notices you.
“Oh....(y/n),” she says as casually as she can.
“Hey.”
“You’re not a terrible person,” you tell her.
She’s shocked to hear this.
“You’re not afraid of me?”
You shake your head.
“Why would I be?”
“I’m too destructive,” she says, sniffling.
“You saw what happened in Lagos.”
You enter your room and sit on her bed with her.
“But you’re also very kind,” you point out.
“And you’re a good person. You clearly care when you hurt others, and you want to rectify your mistakes. A bad person wouldn’t do that.”
In that moment, you can sense her need for some physical contact. You lean over and give her a hug, rubbing her back.
“I’m glad you’re here, Wanda,” you tell her.
And you are. You truly are. Even if you don’t know her well, you’ve heard her talk a few times, and she’s a breath of fresh air. Most of the Avengers tend to be a bit loud and sometimes a bit insensitive, but not Wanda. Wanda’s extremely sensitive to others’ feelings and tends to be a quiet person. It’s something you need. Her accent is also soothing to you for some reason, not to mention she’s beautiful.
You let her cry on your shoulder for a few hours, even humming to her a bit. Then it’s dinnertime and you’re called to the kitchen. That’s when something in Wanda changes. You, an Avenger who barely knows her, aren’t afraid of her; in fact, you’re glad that she’s here. She also doesn’t know you all that well, but she’s seen some acts of kindness you’ve done for her and the other Avengers, even when you thought no one was watching. And she heard your thoughts when you were hugging her, all wonderful things about her, how you wish she could see how amazing she is, how beautiful she is.
At that moment, her heart melts. How can someone with such a sweet and pure soul like you exist? How could someone so....perfect exist? It’s a ray of sunshine in her heart, making her forget about the guilt and trauma, even if only for a few moments. Your presence is exactly what she needs. And she needs more of it.....
===================================
At first it starts off simple and small; making an effort to see you more often, running into you in the compound, smiling at you, making conversation. And honestly, there’s something about Wanda you can’t quite shake off. She does make your heart flutter; sometimes you get shy around her or even blush. It’s adorable and it’s something that only makes her more fond of you.
She discovers you’re autistic when the lights of the compound are too bright one time. The second she notices how anxious you are after Tony turns on the lights before getting his coffee in the other room, she immediately turns them down for you, and she’s the first person you tell.
“I’m touched that you trust me enough to confess this,” she tells you with a few tears in your eyes.
Wanda asks you what other things you like or dislike, things that give you sensory overload and things that help you calm down. She asks you about your experiences as an autistic person. You’re touched by how considerate she is, and even confess to her about your ADD, or Inattentive ADHD, as they call it now. She also asks about that, but does her best to take it a little at a time so that you’re not overwhelmed with questions.
What you don’t know is that she already knows all of this, having telepathy and all; she wants to hear it from you so that it doesn’t come off as creepy. She also loves to hear your voice. It’s like music to her ears, music that eases her stresses and trauma, even if only temporarily.
Then she starts to make some more effort, actively implementing what she knows and paying attention to things you say and do, so that she knows what she can do or say without it being suspicious. Wanda wants the relationship to move as naturally as possible. You’re her precious angel, and she doesn’t want to scare you. And she won’t unless it’s inevitable or of absolute necessity.
Wanda buys a bunch of fidgets and other sensory things for you to try, keeping in mind what you’ve told her. But also throwing in some “close guesses,” meaning things she knows but that you haven’t told her, things close to what you’ve told her. She can easily pass it off as just “having a hunch,” as long as it doesn’t happen too often.
Though she wants it to be as natural as possible, she occasionally uses her powers on you; nothing too severe at first. Just sending little suggestions to your mind; she’s told you a few of her favorite things, so she’ll base those suggestions off of that. One of the first suggestions is why not ask her how to make paprikash? She suggests that the two of you make it together and you agree. You’re not big on spice, but there’s some sweet paprika as a substitute. And it’s not as spicy as you think, but it’s delicious.
Sometimes Wanda sends a suggestion to get you going on a rant on one of your Special Interests; it’s both a chance for her to “get to know you more,” but mostly because she adores hearing you speak about what you love; she especially loves seeing that twinkle in your eyes and she loves seeing your face light up. It’s one of the most precious things to her, seeing you so happy. She wants to cherish every single second of it.
Though you’re nervous about it, suggestions of humming or singing to her pop into your mind. You give into them fairly often, mostly later on in the relationship. She tells you about how beautiful your voice really is, which gets you shy and blushing. It’s so endearing to her, seeing her sweet little sunbeam being so cute without even trying.
When you come back from a battle, Wanda checks to make sure you’re okay as soon as possible. She volunteers to patch you up to the best of her ability, and she soon becomes the person you first think of when you need first aid or care after a battle.
Then Wanda decides to take it a little further; her room in the compound is next to yours. She stands outside of your door, waiting for you to go to sleep, before opening the door a tad and sending in sweet dreams. If there’s one thing she despises, it’s seeing her sweet little angel upset, and this assures that it won’t happen.
Next she sends little dreams with her in it; first only small appearances, but then she becomes apparent little by little until she ends up being the focus of many of them. Of course she’ll throw in miscellaneous dreams here and there, just to make sure you don’t get suspicious.
Then comes Wanda’s biggest suggestion to you; you two have gotten so close over the past few months, why not ask her to be your girlfriend? It only makes sense. You still feel those butterflies in your stomach, you two both have amazing chemistry, and you both are very close. At this point, you don’t question it. You’re just nervous to ask, as you’ve never been in a relationship before. Of course the nervousness is also slightly part of the suggestion, more on a subconscious level. It’s not enough to make you panic; just enough to make you shy when asking her. And of course, you are. You end up stammering a little, blushing a bit. She fondly assures you that it’s okay to feel this nervousness, and happily accepts being your girlfriend.
===============================
Now that you two are a couple, her next suggestion for you is to give into those affectionate feelings you have when cuddling with her. She loves the warmth you bring. Wanda didn’t think you could get any cuter, and yet she’s a full-on puddle when you cuddle with her. You’re just so sweet and Wanda can’t help but feel protective over you.
Others begin to notice you opening up more and they start making conversation with you. Of course Wanda’s listening to their thoughts to make sure they’re not interested in going further than a friendship with you. Friends are okay for her, and she’s very excited inside when you make a new friend, as she knows that making friends doesn’t exactly come naturally to you. However if it ever gets to anything past that, she’d have to take action. One does express interest in you, and that doesn’t sit well with Wanda. This person doesn’t deserve such a sweet angel, let alone her sweet little angel. Something must be done.
That night, after sending you sweet dreams, she sneaks over to their place and hides just outside of their bedroom door. She’s able to track their brain activity, so she knows when they’ve gone to sleep. Once they do, she sends them their worst nightmares, ones that paralyze them in their sleep out of fear. The next day, you don’t see them at their usual time. You figure maybe they’re sick or they overslept. In the meantime, she’s there to keep you company. It happens on and off with them for some odd reason.
If it’s one of the Avengers taking an interest in you, Wanda ensures that the two of you don’t get too close. If you go on a mission and need a partner, Wanda steps up. It’s not really a surprise to them, with her being your girlfriend and all. She glares at the Avenger who’s showing interest, letting them know to stay back.
=========================================
And then shit hits the fan.
You come back to the compound in tears one night and Wanda’s the first one at your side.
“(Y/N), what happened?” she asks worried.
You tell her about how you ran into someone who said that autism is a disease that needs to be cured and that you shouldn’t exist because you’re a burden on society. Wanda doesn’t leave your side that night. You need someone there for you. Externally she’s supportive and loving. But internally, she’s both heartbroken and fuming as she looks through the memory. A fire storms inside of her. How dare they tell such a sweet and pure soul like you that they’re a burden! How dare they say her sweet angel has a disease that needs to be cured! Wanda knows that autism has its challenges, but also its upsides. It’s not anything that needs a cure. It’s a part of your identity. She will NOT let this slide. Not even a little.
After cuddling with you, and sending extra-special sweet dreams that night, Wanda finds the place of the person who told you this. Wanda sneaks into their bedroom and induces their worst nightmares, along with a dose of sleep paralysis. She uses her telekinesis to throw objects around the room and even at them. She uses her power to make them choke. Her grief and anger only amplifies the severity. It’s satisfying to her to hear them scream, plead, beg for mercy, to see them so helpless, knowing what they said to her precious angel. She keeps doing this to them until they’re completely broken, even going back multiple nights, just to make sure they’re gone for good.
You don’t hear from them until you find out that they’ve become completely catatonic. Part of you still feels bad for them for some reason, but you don’t know why.
“You have nothing to feel bad about, (Y/N),” Wanda assures you when you bring this up with her.
“Their guilt probably just got the best of them. C’mon, how about we get some lunch together?”
Wanda’s got your back and more for the next few days. And then Tony locks her in her room, and you’re infuriated. He just sees her as a weapon and not a person. In spite of their attempts to convince you to come along on missions, you decide to stay back and keep Wanda company, to make her confinement more bearable.
The two of you both fight Tony together, end up in the Raft, and escape together, living away from the compound. Then comes the war. You’re the one dusted and Wanda survives. Those five years without you are hell to her. She spirals back into grief, guilt, and trauma, blaming herself for not being able to save you. Thank God for Bruce Banner. In 2023, he brings you back. The second Wanda finds this out, she rushes for you, her eyes filled with tears, and you’re just as relieved to see her. Your warmth sparks a sense of purpose back into her. After you died and were brought back to life, to her you’re truly an angel now, and she refuses to let an angel be harmed. She’s reluctant to let you fight, but she tells you as long as you stay by her, it should be fine.
Tony sacrifices himself to save you all from Thanos. The second the funeral is over, you decide to take a nap. Wanda gently grabs you and takes you to a remote location; a cottage in the middle of the woods on an island. Those five years without you and then suddenly having you back sent her protective instincts into overdrive. She decides that she can’t let anyone or anything hurt you anymore. She’s lost her parents and her brother. She can’t lose you. She won’t lose you.
When you come to, you’re shocked about where you are.
“H-huh?”
Sitting up you begin to panic when you hear a familiar voice.
“Good! You’re awake.”
The smell of paprika hits your nose as you see her face, a sweet smile upon it.
“W-wanda?”
She brings over a plate of chicken paprikash.
“What do you think, (y/n)?” she asks.
“Of what?”
She gives a little giggle.
“Of our new home, of course.”
Your heart jumps in your chest.
“New home?”
Wanda sets down the food on a nearby table, and sits next to you on the bed you’ve been placed in.
“(Y/N), I.....those past five years....”
“Must’ve been horrific,” you say, still in shock.
She nods.
“And I wish I could’ve saved you.”
She gently takes ahold of your hands.
“And now that you’re back....I’m scared to lose you. I want us to be together forever.”
Your face flushes, and you glance away. She giggles a little and gently guides your face back up to her.
“My sweet (y/n), you’re too adorable,” she tells you.
Your eyes meet the bridge of her nose, and she doesn’t make you look at her eyes. She knows eye contact can be hell for you.
“I’ve missed this energy so much; I’ve missed your kind-hearted nature, your beautiful voice, your wide and innocent eyes, that cute little button nose, you cuddling up close to me. I’ve set everything in this cottage up just for you. I want you to be as comfortable and happy as possible here.”
“Where exactly are we, though?” you ask.
“Somewhere where you’ll never be hurt again. I’ll ensure that.”
This set off a slight red flag, and you panic a little.
“We couldn’t have just moved to a house in the suburbs or maybe a house in Greece?”
She shakes her head as she pets yours, something that absolutely gives you butterflies.
“No. This world doesn’t deserve an angel like you, sweet (y/n). You have such a pure soul-you are a pure soul-and the world outside will only hurt you. Sweet and innocent people, especially at your age, are very rare. They’re like diamonds; real diamonds. They’re extremely difficult to find, but once you do, they’re a treasure that needs to be protected. I want to be that for you. I want to protect you, keep you safe, love you and care for you. This cottage, this island, it can become a whole new world. At least give it a try? For me? Please?”
You want to say no, right? You’re not sure. It feels like something inside of you is at war, but one side is winning. Wanda’s clearly relieved to have you, and you’ve loved her for a long time now as she’s loved you for a long time now. You feel comfortable around her too. Perhaps a little protection might not be the worst idea. At the very least, a trial run wouldn’t hurt.
You nod.
“Okay, I’ll give it a go.”
Wanda hugs you close and gives you a small peck on the cheek.
“Thank you, my sweet (y/n)! Thank you.”
The two of you have dinner together and then watch a few sitcoms before you cuddle up in bed as Wanda softly sings you a Sokovian lullaby, your head lying near her shoulder. As you drift off to sleep, Wanda watches you endearingly. What you don’t know is that you’re going to enjoy being here. She’d love it if it’s on your own terms, but if you start to seem distant, she won’t hesitate to use her magic to send some suggestions. Maybe it’s to prompt you to ask her to include or remove or change something, or even to enhance your joy for the little things. Extreme worst-case scenario? She’ll plague you with a few nightmares, ones that’ll show you how dangerous the outside world is without her, but it will pain her to do so. Expect a lot of cuddling and kisses from her when you wake up in tears in the hopes of making things better. And she makes sure they do. All she wants is for you to stay and be happy and safe with her.
And even if you wanted to leave, it’s doubtful that even with your powers, you’ll get past the barrier Wanda’s put up. It’s doubtful that you’ll even get that far. It’s a big island after all. Big and deserted. She wants to give you enough space, but not too much. Just enough to make you happy. If you somehow find it, Wanda will make sure you’ll forget finding it. She’ll fill in the gaps with something else so that it doesn’t seem suspicious. It’s not surprising that she knows how to deal with so many outcomes; she’s had five years to think it over, after all, just in case you came back.
But none of that matters right now. All that matters is that she has you, her precious angel, and you’ll be hers forever one way or the other.
#yandere marvel#marvel#yandere!wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x autistic!reader#yandere!wanda maximoff#yandere avengers#Avengers#scarlet witch#yandere!scarlet witch#yandere x reader#avengers x you#avengers x reader#avengers imagine#autistic fanfics#dark!wanda maximoff#dark!wanda maximoff x reader
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web of lies
take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.
photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist
w/c: 7.1k
warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint
summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all
a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading
to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.
a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.
he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.
“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”
your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.
that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.
—
“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”
“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”
“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”
“does anyone have an aspirin?”
welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.
although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.
you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.
thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.
mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.
harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.
there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.
last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.
you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.
peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.
the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.
“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.
ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.
“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.
“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.
mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.
“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.
as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?
“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”
uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.
“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.
“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.
“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”
what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.
it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.
quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.
you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.
“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.
it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.
grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.
you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.
“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.
“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.
“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“
“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”
you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.
the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.
you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.
“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.
“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.
“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.
biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.
then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.
“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”
“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.
“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.
confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.
mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.
peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.
“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.
“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.
“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”
after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.
you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.
it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.
you’ve never missed a deadline.
mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.
“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“
mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”
harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.
“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.
“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”
mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”
the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.
you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.
you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.
taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.
“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.
“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”
considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.
“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”
“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.
“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”
peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.
“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.
getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”
“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.
“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”
you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.
“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.
“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”
something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.
“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.
“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.
he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.
peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.
things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.
later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?
they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.
the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.
ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.
pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.
his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.
peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.
“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“
the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”
in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’
“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”
“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.
“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.
“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.
ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.
“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.
“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.
he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.
you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.
“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.
you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.
“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.
you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”
listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.
“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”
“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.
“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.
“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.
“what are you doing tonight?”
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peter parker taglist
@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12
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if i forgot you please lmk!
#peter parker#peter parker fluff#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker imagine#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker smut#spiderman#tom holland#tom holland fluff#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x you#tom holland imagine#tom holland fic
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Searching For Calm
Pairing: Sky x Stella. Sky x reader.
Request: Maybe you could write a Sky one where reader is always there for him and he just sees Stella. So the reader (mind fairy) shuts herself out and it takes some time for him to notice. Anonymous
A/N Ignore the text on the gif. I couldn’t find one I liked for this fic.
“Are we still on for tonight?” you ask knowing what’s coming but hoping you’re wrong. Sky doesn’t notice your face fall when he shakes his head.
“Sorry, I promised Stella she could come over. She had a rough day.” You want to scream at him that every day is hard for you. Every day you wake up and feel every emotion that runs through Alfea. Happy, sad, lonely, scared. Some days you can’t even figure out which feelings are your own. You want to confess how the only calm you ever feel is when you’re with Sky, but it doesn’t matter. He only has eyes for Stella.
“Yeah, no problem. Talk tomorrow then?” He never has the chance to answer. Stella sits down on his lap stealing away the short time you and Sky had alone. You literally feel her dislike as she turns slightly your way.
“Oh, I didn’t see you there.”
“Yeah. There’s a lot of things you didn’t notice,” you mumble hinting at the five empty chairs around the table but they’re already to consumed by each other to pay any more attention to you.
“Bye, Sky.” There’s no reply, but you didn’t expect one. It’s been 2 months like this ever since Stella decided that Sky was good enough for her despite her dumping him over the summer to spend time with other boys. A fact they’ve both decided to ignore. You put on headphones hoping it might help you drown out everyone’s emotions. You know Farah told you to focus on shutting other people’s emotions out, to only feel them when you want to. But lately, you haven’t been able to focus and you have a suspicion it might be related to the way Sky’s been treating you.
“They’re locking tongues again. It’s getting disgusting.” Riven appears next to you with a sour look on his face. The one person who just might hate the relationship more than you.
“I know. He cancelled on me again.”
“He’s treating you like trash.” You sense his anger more than you see it. You’ve been a trio since you were young and Stella has gone ahead and ruined that. She dislikes you and Riven and for some reason Sky always chooses her. You guess love really does blind people.
“He treats you like trash too,” you counter not ready to face the truth yet.
“Yeah, but most of the time I deserve it. You, however, doesn’t ever deserve it.” He’s radiating affection as he looks at you. He’s well aware of your crush on Sky and he’s made his feelings clear on more than several occasions that you deserve someone who actually cares. He’s like your big brother, always looking out for you.
“I was thinking I might just take some time to myself. See if he misses me.” It’s a very cruel game that you’ll be playing with yourself because you know he won’t notice. Not as long as he’s dating Stella. Riven puts his arm around you as you walk down the hallway.
“I think that’s the smartest thing you’ve said in months.” You nudge him lightly but regrettably have to agree with him. In the next couple of weeks, you stay away from Sky. And even though you already knew his reaction, it still feels like someone is pulling at your heartstrings when you see him being just fine. It’s like he doesn’t even realise that you’re not around. Riven tries his hardest to cheer you up, but now that you’re without any comfort from your powers, you feel the toll much more than before. You start sleeping in Riven’s bed whenever Sky stays over at Stella’s. There’s nothing more than friendly comfort in it. Slowly, Riven becomes your escape from everyone else and it feels so good. You know you shouldn’t depend on others to help you cope with your feelings but it’s all you can do right now. Tonight is one of those nights where Riven has the room to himself. Or at least that’s what he’s been told by Sky but for some reason he stumbles through the door in the middle of the night.
“Y/N?” He sees you first. There’s no missing the feeling of betrayal going through him. You know exactly what he’s thinking. Riven? Really? It’s all over his face and you hate it. You hate that he gets to judge you when he hasn’t talked to you in weeks.
“I thought you were going to be with Stella tonight?” Riven starts to stir next to you.
“We got into a fight. What are you doing here?”
“I’m sleeping.” You know you should tell him that there’s nothing between you and Riven but there’s a small, petty part of you that really likes how he feels right now.
“Yeah, but with Riven? Are you dating or something?” He’s trying to act unbothered but you’re both painfully aware of your ability to feel everything he feels.
“That’s none of your business, man.” Cue Riven who’s ready to provoke Sky. He’s been upset with him for a while and with the way Sky is acting right now, Riven can’t help himself. This is going to end in a fight if you don’t get it under control.
“I can’t sleep alone, okay? I haven’t been able to for a while. Riven calms me.” You thought you were defusing the situation but somehow your comment just makes everything much worse.
“He calms you? So I’m not good enough anymore?” His voice almost breaks and in turn something breaks inside of you. He doesn’t get to be the one with the broken heart. He let you go and forgot you even existed. He spent the last four weeks in Stella-land and now that they’ve had a fight, suddenly you’re good enough. You’re about to tell him off but Riven beats you to it.
“You haven’t been here! She’s been going through shit and you’ve been so caught up with yourself that you didn’t even notice that you guys haven’t talked for weeks. If anything you should be thankful, I’ve been here!” The situation is escalating much faster than you thought possible. They both radiate feelings overwhelming you. It’s difficult to keep track of which feelings belong to who.
“He’s right, Sky. Ever since you and Stella got back together, all you’ve seen is her. You cancelled all of our plans and completely cut me out.” You want to cry or hit Sky right in the face and you’re not sure which feeling is your own right now. Instead of doing either of those you get up and run away from the situation entirely. They both call after you but you just need to find a quiet place away from people’s feelings. You run outside and down the field. There’s a tree at the very back that you’ve crawled up more times than you remember. It’s always been your safe spot whenever you needed to get away. You’re hoping that Sky doesn’t remember it and after an hour alone you start to feel safe. But then you feel it - or more precisely him. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s coming right at you.
“Y/N, I’m coming up.” You want to scream at him to go away but suddenly you’ve gone mute.
“I’m so sorry. I’ve been a dick.” You don’t argue with that statement. He really has been a dick.
“Riven really set me straight after you left. And when he started pointing it out, I realised that I haven’t been myself. I’ve been distant and cold, I’ve taken you for granted,” he says and you feel his regret just as much as you see it on his face.
“I never meant to do that. I got so caught up in Stella’s web and because of that I hurt the person who means the most to me.”
“You took away my calm,” you mumble blinded by tears. It sounds so childish saying out loud but he was the one person who could make you feel normal. His energy cancelled out everyone else’s. You look over at him blinking several times before being able to focus on his face.
“I’m really sorry.” He takes your hands in his and you let him. It’s that heart of yours that’s betraying you. It always beats a little faster when he looks at you.
“I can’t do this again. I can’t keep losing you over and over again,” you admit dangerously close to just owning up to your feelings. How he takes your breath away just walking towards you, how he makes you smile even at your worst moments, how he makes your palms sweat whenever he’s near. You want to admit it all because you’re so tired of having to hide your own feelings when everyone else can have their feelings heard.
“You won’t have to. I ended things with Stella before I came out here. When I saw you with Riven,” he pauses to take a deep breath, ”I felt my heart crack. I hated the idea of seeing you with anyone else.” You stop breathing. For once, you use your powers to reach out and feel his fully. You feel like screaming when you notice the very feeling you’ve been consumed by yourself.
“Did you just-”
“No!” You say it too quickly. He knows what you did but he doesn’t seem to mind it. He smiles as he takes your hand.
“I know this is really poor timing and I hate how much it took for me to realise that what I feel for you is way beyond how I should feel for a friend. But if there’s even a small part of you that cares for me like that, I’d really like a second chance.” You’re pretty sure you’re dreaming because there’s no way you went from being ignored by him to have him confess his feelings for you. It doesn’t change how fast your heart is beating in your chest or the blush creeping onto your cheeks.
“You just got out of a relationship, Sky.” Even though your heart is all for jumping into his arms and riding off into the sunset, the logical part of your brain can’t help but recall how he was in a relationship up until an hour ago.
“I’m too late, aren’t I?”
“I really like you, but I also feel like I don’t know you anymore. I look at you and see the face of my best friend, but I also see a stranger.” You don’t know how to explain it properly but somehow Sky gets it.
“How about we start out easy? Get to know each other again.” He cups your cheek as he looks into your eyes. He opens his mind to let you know that he truly means everything he’s said. You can feel his feelings yelling to be heard.
“I’d like that.”
#winx saga#fate the winx saga#fate winx club#sky x reader#sky blurb#sky imagine#sky gif#danny griffin#sky
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this is your chance: wax poetic about an Empires or DSMP character of your choice to a fan who is new to both. Explain why I should love them. I need guidance in this new and meme-populated land.
okok this is a lot of pressure haha. Spoilers for EmpiresSMP and DreamSMP below, obviously. I wrote a lot so prepare yourself, anon
I watch a lot of empires POVs but the ones I most anticipate every week are Scott and Sausage.
c!Scott (I'll call him Smajor for the sake of simplicity) starts off the series chilling, not really getting involved with the rest of the server, and staying aggressively neutral. After all, he's an elf. He has lived far longer than most of the other rulers already, and will most likely outlive them for many years. So, the best thing is to stick to his mountains and not get invested in the dealings of mortal affairs, maybe sometimes causing problems on purpose and dipping because what's life without a little spice right.
But then, this demon comes to the server, Xornoth. He's going around causing havoc and wants to send the world into an eternal winter, but he doesn't bother the kingdom of Rivendell much so Smajor stays tentatively cautious but ultimately unbothered. But then, the puzzle pieces start falling together. The first thing that the audience noticed was was Xornoth sounded like Smajor, but we mostly thought that this was just due to cc!Scott voicing both of them and there was nothing more to it. However, then, the people the demon starts possessing start chanting in elvish. The demon hates mortals, and the elves are conveniently one of the two confirmed not fully mortal races in Empires.
This culminates when Smajor stumbles across a cave that contains the backstory of the patron god of Rivendell, Aeor. Basically, there's two opposing forces, Aeor and Exor, and both have a champion. In a previous life, those champions were two brothers, where Aeor eventually prevailed and banished Exor. In this life though, the champions are - you guessed it - Smajor, and the demon Xornoth.
So now Smajor is like. Well fuck. It's my literal god-given destiny to be responsible for defeating this demon who is technically my brother, and if I fail the server gets plunged into an eternal winter. And I have no fucking clue what is happening because I've just been here on this mountain actively trying to stay out of the issues outside my kingdom. We watch him panic and teeter on the verge of spiraling for an entire episode, and when the followers of Xornoth go to the End to kill the dragon, releasing Xornoth's full powers, he fails to stop him. Smajor is a character who was used to being the smart one, the prepared one, the one who has the least deaths on the server. But he's also a character who runs away from his problems and ignores them. Before and during the dragon fight, we hear the desperation in his voice, as he's thrown into a situation he is wholly unprepared for, and it's bigger than him going to the Cod Empire to kill their king, or assisting in other people's plans to kill the codfather. He can't run from this. cc!Scott plays this scene so well as well, as I've said before, one of the best parts of Scott's acting is how he's never super dramatic, but he's so effective in the little things like inflection to make you feel, viscerally, the panic and dread.
So after the dragon fight, Smajor realizes, I can't do this on my own. I've tried and failed. So he gets allies. We watch him, someone who has so strongly been an isolationist, learn the benefits of allies and watch him learn to trust others and watch him learn how to get that trust in return.
My favorite thing about Smajor's characterization is that he's an incompetent protagonist, but not in the way of the "plucky young adventurer". He's capable skill-wise, and fairly jaded and very pessimistic. However, his issue is that up until recently, he did not care about the rest of the server at all, and by the time he learned to, it was way too late.
Also, in 3rd Life, cc!Scott and cc!Jimmy were canonically married and they reference it sometimes in Empires. Like, Scott goes over to the Cod Empire every so often both in and out of character to kill and/or flirt with Jimmy, the ruler of the Cod Empire, which may develop as a secondary plot into the future who knows. So ty Scott for giving the gays what they want o7
Now onto Sausage: his is a story of Icarus, his hubris and ambition being his downfall. He's one of the two followers of Xornoth, who promised him endless power in exchange for his servitude. He started the series being eccentric, but not outright unhinged, but slowly gets more and more extreme as the series progresses, as he gets brought more and more to Xornoth's side.
One of the best parts of Sausage's character, in my opinion, is how his gradual corruption affects the people around him. Initially, he got into a conflict with the Cod Empire and was allied with two other people in the Witherrose alliance. They were allies, but also close friends. The fandom liked to joke that the three had sibling energy, and I'm pretty sure the ccs played to that even more lol.
It was painful to watch the other two members, Gem and fWhip, watch Sausage get corrupted right in front of them, and see them desperately clinging on to this old idea of Sausage in their head because if they faced the truth, it would mean that their friend was gone. Eventually, they do finally cut him out of the alliance, leading him to fully commit to the side of the demon. Sausage felt very clearly betrayed by this, and declared the remaining two Witherrose alliance members to be enemies.
He gets more and more possessed, and we even see the other Empires, his enemies even, slowly realize that something is very wrong with the ruler of Mythland. He starts doing more and more evil things, like killing people more, making sacrifices to the demon, and eventually helping to kill the dragon to free Xornoth. So things are good for Sausage, for a bit. He won, and is more powerful than ever. Then he finds out: he's going to die. Xornoth's possession is slowly killing his soul, and eventually, his body going to be fully taken over and he himself is going to be trapped in the spirit realm. So how do you react to this? Over the next few episodes, we watch Sausage struggle between "the demon is literally killing me" and "the demon has given me so much, and I love it", all while Xornoth takes over more and more of him. We hear him exclaim that "don't worry!! I'm still about 15% there!" while trying to downplay every time Xornoth completely takes over his body. We watch him willingly oppose anyone who is trying to end the thing that is killing him.
My favorite thing about Sausage is that he is undoubtedly evil and proud of it, but he's also undoubtedly human. If you like to watch evil characters go absolutely feral, he's the guy for you. He makes the deal with Xornoth in the beginning, knowing and fully embracing the evilness of the demon, but at the same time he knows what he's doing is detrimental to both himself and everyone around him, but he's gotten in way too deep at this point, and to be fair the demon has held up its end fo the bargain, right?
Also, I would be damned if I don't talk about cc!Sausage's editing. Every one of his videos is like a movie. The way he does camera angles and uses music is so skillful- every lore scene feels like something out of a high fantasy action saga (think: LotR). Every big lore event I always wait in anticipation for Sausage's ep because his editing truly takes lore to another level.
I'm just generally very excited to see where this series goes. Empires is such a good mix of talented builders and good lore. Part of the reason why the series is so immersive for me, beyond any other lore smp, is that they have the settings to back it up. There is a certain charm to the DreamSMP's objectively terrible builds (with a few exceptions) but in Empires, the settings help sell the plot so much.
Another part of why I love EmpiresSMP is how much the ccs are involved with the fan community. I'm sure you've seen the memes about Scott being on tumblr, and Sausage regularly goes through the EmpiresSMP fanart tag on Twitter and likes art, even ones not related to Mythland. Most of the ccs, in fact, have brought up tumblr content on stream at some point or another. Like, several ccs have said that they read tumblr lore theories and hcs and stuff and sometimes take inspiration from them. Fun fact: Rivendell's church was inspired by my pinned drawing; confirmed by Scott Smajor himself. It's just such a good cycle of ccs and fans being excited about each other.
As for DreamSMP, I'm gonna be honest here, the only person I really am invested in in Technoblade. I started watching when he joined the server, and he's the only person whose lore I keep up to date with.
Techno's fun to watch because he's like the Deadpool of DreamSMP. Virtually unkillable, very skilled and scary, but consistently cracks jokes and breaks the 4th wall during plot. His POV is just fun. Like, he does wild plans and gives speeches and some of the stuff that happens to him should be called deus ex machine if it wasn't for the fact that Technoblade is the one who's doing it, and all the stuff is grounded in the fact that cc!Techno is just that good at the game.
However, the fact that he rarely takes anything seriously makes the few times Techno is 100% serious so much more impactful. His whole character has a basis in being perceived as inhuman and being treated as such, and therefore in return trying to hide his humanity. So, when he shows that humanity, whether that's fear, anger, or genuine love for his friends, it really makes you go "oh shit."
Techno's often said not to have character development, but I'd argue that while he remains steadfast in his moral code, he develops leaps and bounds as a person. Like, at the beginning, he's brought onto the server to help Wilbur and Tommy overthrow a government; them knowing he's 1) an anarchist and 2) very very powerful. His character was more of a plot device at that point and was treated as such in the canon. Wilbur and Tommy straight-up lie to him about their plans to establish another government after they overthrow the current one, while he was led on to believe that they were abolishing all governments in the area. But he isn't a plot device. He's a person, as much as he only shows the terrifying, blood god side of himself.
After the establishment of New Lmanburg (the new government its a long story), his friend Phil joins. And for the first time, we see him be fully human with someone and we see someone treat him like a human. Like, we saw glimpses before, with Wilbur and Tommy in Pogtopia, but Phil is the first person we noticeably see he trusts 100%. Then Doomsday happens, and Techno essentially retires to the tundra. During this time, we see Techno learn to be more human, first with Ranboo, then Niki when he establishes the Syndicate. In fact, the two of them, along with Phil, canonically throw him a birthday party, which is a far cry from his treatment in Pogtopia.
Techno's development is one of a god learning to be human, and I just think he <3
#vio.ask#empiressmp#empires smp#dreamsmp#scott smajor#smajor#smajor1995#mythicalsausage#mythical sausage#technoblade#to be clear i am not an apologist for any character#i fully realize that they are doing wrong and I like to watch it happen#minecraft roleplay got be in full character analysis mode#long post
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sapnap x reader where the readers first language is greek and they confess to him in greek without knowing he speaks it too ? i love ur writing btw !! :)
sapnap x reader
first of all, this is such a cute idea and I love it, second of all, I DO NOT KNOW GREEK, so apologize in advance for anything google translate gets wrong
trigger warnings: some swearing, drinking
(y/n/n)- your nickname
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You’d first seen him from across the quad, whilst searching for a distraction from the boring chattering of your mother on the phone, the dirty blonde man also lost in conversation with the brunette who’d walked beside him.
You continued to watched them on their path through the mess of kids on benches or even the ground, tracing his familiarity to one of your lectures on software design.
What surprised you most, was when he looked over, and smiled at you, he’d caught you in the act of staring at him, and smiled.
You smiled back, not to be impolite, and were pulled back to reality by your mothers voice in your ear, “(y/n), είσαι εκεί? ή έχει πετάξει το κεφάλι σου στα σύννεφα;” (Are you there? Or has your head flown off in the clouds?)
“Είμαι εδώ μαμά.” (I’m here mama) you sighed.
~~
The next time you saw him was at a party some frat house on the other side of campus was throwing.
You hadn’t planned on going, seeing as you barley knew the boys in the frat, and your friends, well, at this college anyway, were nonexistent, but hey, free booze.
So that's how you found yourself, leaning against the living room wall, cup in hand, watching the beer pong game happening in the center of the room.
Taking another sip of your drink you did a mental walk of the room, making mental note of the people you knew, and then there he was again, definitely less than sober, calling dibs on playing the loser of the game.
You watched, amused as the game ended, and he quickly took the place of the loser, taunting the other guy loudly.
Three games (and several beers) later he was still winning, loudly yelling that he could beat anyone at the party.
Unable to help yourself you stepped forward, “I’ll have a go then.”
He looked you up and down proclaiming, “Easy win.”
You smirked, moving up to the table.
The game began, and his confidence quickly wore down, as all your shots either landed, or came very close.
The last few were neck and neck, but soon it was down to three left on your side, and only one left on his.
Desperately, his first shot got one of yours and you quickly chugged it down, still smirking at him.
You raised an eyebrow as he lined up his next shot, and his eyes flicked to yours just long enough to cause him to miss.
You bit back a grin, easily sinking the last shot, “I’ve bested the beast.”
The people who had been spectating cheered, and the brunette who you’d seen with him before started to laugh his ass off, “They fucking got you Nick!”
“Yeah, I’m aware.” He sounded all too sober for someone who should’ve been that drunk.
You chuckled, turning and disappearing into the crowd.
A half hour later you were half way out the door, not bothering to pull on your jacket, the relative amount of dinking you had done still making your cheeks feel warm.
“Wait! Wait!” He- Nick, you reminded yourself, came half stumbling down the road, “I wanted to say good game.”
“That was half an hour ago.” You laughed.
“Still- i- sorry, what is your name?”
“(y/n), I’m in your intro to software design.”
“I’ve never seen you in there before,” He looked confused, “Which group do you sit with?”
“I don’t really have friends.” You shrugged.
Nick frowned, quickly holding out his hand for a shake, “Hi, I’m Nick, I’m your friend now.”
You looked at his outstretched hand confused, “Yeah o-kay. Your drunk, I’m tipsy and if I’m lucky you won’t remember this in the morning. I don’t really do friends here.”
He nodded as if paying attention, but then said, “You have an accent.”
You nodded, “Yup, I’m leaving now.”
~~
You didn’t see him again after that, for nearly three weeks, and you were beginning to think he really had forgotten, that is, until he approached out out side of the lecture hall, “Hey!”
“Yeah?”
“(y/n) right? Your the one who beat me at beer pong. And then walked away when I asked about your accent.”
You rolled your eyes, “You didn’t ask you literally just stated I had an accent.”
“Well I’m not wrong! I meant to ask why- well not why- just, are you an exchange student or?”
You adjusted your laptop bag on your shoulder, “This isn’t high school. We don’t have exchange students.”
“Well, are you studying abroad then?”
“I’m an American. I can’t study abroad in my own country.”
He looked slightly confused, “Sorry- it’s just with your accent I assumed.”
“I wasn’t born here if that helps.” You turned and started away, pulling out your phone as it started to ring, “Ναι μαμά; Έχω μαθήματα σύντομα, τι συμβαίνει;” (Yes mama? I have class soon, what's wrong?)
~~
“Why are you always alone all the time?”
You groaned, looking up from the firewall system assignment you’d been testing on your tablet, to see Nick, “I’m working.”
“And I’m asking a question,” He sat down at the otherwise empty table, “Why are you always alone?”
“I told you, I don’t have friends here.” You ran the breaker code again, seeing if it could illuminate any unseen holes.
“You were at the party, surely you knew someone there, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone.”
“σκατά“ You muttered, a new problem in the chain arising, “It was an open house party, I heard about it from people I know.” (shit)
Nick frowned, “Oh, thats-”
“Sad, tragic, depressing? Yeah I’m aware.” You sighed.
You saved the project, shutting off your tablet and looking around the empty cafeteria, “Isn’t it like, wicked late? Why are you here?”
“Why’re you?” he countered.
“World’s asleep.” You muttered, packing up the rest of your stuff, “Why do you keep making such an effort to talk to me?”
“Cause we’re friends remember? Shook on it.”
“I never shook your hand.” You grumbled, standing up.
~~
“You know that I’m right!” Nick exclaimed.
“Maybe! But I don’t want to admit it!”
Over the course of a few month Nick had crawled, kicked and wormed his way into your life, all but forcing you to become his friend, and surprisingly, you didn’t mind all that much.
Now you were sitting out on the roof of your dorm, looking up at the night sky.
“I swear your fucking nocturnal dude! Like an owl! And I willingly give up my sleep to hang out with you!”
You hesitated, feeling a sudden jolt of a realization, and as suddenly as a lighting strike, you were falling in love.
You fumbled to recover, “Well you’re the one who went out of your way to become my friend.”
“I mean, too be fair I was drunk.”
“But still went out of your way to be my friend once you were sober.” You pointed out.
“Hey, drunk me makes good decisions sometimes.” He laughed, looking over at you.
You let out a sigh, watching the white wisps of your breath drift up in the sky, “That’s the thing I’ve never got over.”
“What? Drunk me making interesting decisions?”
“The cold,” You said simply, “I’ve lived here half my life, but the cold still doesn’t make sense to me.”
He laughed, “This is Texas, it’s not nearly as cold as it gets up north. Snow’s much more common for now, up there.”
“I’ve never seen snow. Mama doesn’t like it much,” You laughed, “The first time I really heard about it it sounded so strange.”
Nick smiled, “Lets go up north during winter break then. I know people up there, we can go do winter tourist things.”
“Winter tourist things?”
“Yeah,” He chuckled, “Go ice skating, look at lights, sleigh rides, all that.”
You laughed, “Winter Tourist things.”
~~
A month and a half had passed, your sudden change in feelings toward your only friend on campus had not.
If anything they had just gotten worse, and now, the thing you still couldn’t wrap your head around, you were tossing your suitcase into the back of his car, about to head on your way to the airport, because yes, the Winter Tourist thing stuck.
“Dude, I’m so excited! This is gonna be epic!”
You nodded, “You know, thinking about it, it actually is possible I’ve seen snow, like when I was little. It just never lasted long.”
Nick scrunched up his nose, “Well it’s too late to duck out now!”
“I never said I was ducking out.” You laughed.
~~
The trip had gone pretty well, the snow in the northeast was certainly different than that of Macedonia, but you didn’t think it was all Nick had said it would be.
Still you had enjoyed wandering around the city looking at Christmas lights, attempting to ice skate, and just enjoying each others company.
It seemed like every minute you spent with Nick, you teetered closer to the edge, knowing that by the end of this trip you’d be head over heels for him, if you weren’t already now.
Now you were quietly sitting on the balcony of your hotel room, hands cradled around the warm cup of hot chocolate you’d made, looking out into the swirling darkness above the city.
“You know your gonna freeze if you stay out here.” Nick moved through the door and sat beside you, draping part of a blanket around your shoulders.
“I know.” You sighed.
He looked at you, concerned, “What’s wrong?”
“Νομίζω ότι ερωτεύομαι,” You murmured, a quiet confession, more so to yourself than to him, “και αυτό με τρομάζει.” (I think I’m falling in love with you... and that terrifies me)
You started to sigh as he looked confused, though only for a moment, because “Τι είναι τόσο τρομακτικό για την αγάπη;” He asked softly. (What’s so scary about love?)
You froze, almost dropping your cup, “ε-ε-ε, εσύ- μιλάς ελληνικά;” (uh- y- uh, you- you speak Greek?)
“λίγο,” He smiled, “Είσαι ερωτευμένος μαζί μου;“ (A bit... you’re in love with me?)
“λίγο.” (A bit), you breathed, trying to ignore the small space between you seemingly shrink.
“Νομίζω ότι είμαι λίγο ερωτευμένος και εσένα.” He chuckled. (I think I'm a bit in love with you too)
Your breath hitched, and your quickly bridged the small gap between you to kiss him, smiling into it a bit as he kissed back.
“How long?” He asked softly when you pulled apart.
“When you first brought up the trip. You said that you were willing to lose sleep to hang out with me,” You chuckled nervously, “You?”
“Second week of school, you were on the phone with someone, and you smiled back at me,” Nick grinned, “I saw you from across the quad and knew.”
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Difference
Found this in my drafts from when I was on burn service- not sure why I didn’t share it before. I think because at the time I wrote it, I was very angry and felt that I shouldn’t write something and post it out of anger. It’s been many months since this patient case, and I feel ready to share it.
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I am frequently asked by a variety of people how I do my job. “How do you work in burn?? How do you handle seeing the things you see?” HOW?” I’ve got a simply and more thought-out/complex answer for that question depending on where I am or who I’m with. This week, I’ve been challenged by my job in profound way. While what I’m about to say is at times graphic and upsetting, I really want people to consider the unimaginable - that you, a friend, or a loved one may be put in a situation where who have to make a decision.
We recently received a patient who was regrettably burned >60% TBSA in a house fire. Tragic story in all ways. This person, we will can him Bill, is almost 70 y/o with a variety of health ailments which limit function on even the best of days. Bill’s burns are on his face, back, chest, abdomen, buttocks, and bilateral upper extremities with severe inhalation injury. Most burns are full thickness or likely to convert. When we receive a new patient, we begin to fluid resuscitate them until we can speak with family unless they are quite clearly charred (yes, this is a thing and it is as horrific as you may imagine).
We have a few decent mortality indices in burn. The most reliable index we have in the revised Baux score which accounts for age, %TBSA, and inhalation injury. The presence of inhalation injury generally pushes the likelihood of death up by 15-20%. By this index, Bill has an unsurvivable injury. This was, of course, explained to the family. They decided to move forward.
Sometimes, it’s a crap shoot if someone will survive resuscitation. Families sometimes want to see if their loved one can make it through this process. Someone who is already older or ill will receive up to 20, 30, even 40 liters of fluid in 24 hours. In conjunction with normal burn swelling, this renders someone completely unrecognizable.
Bill struggled a little with resuscitation initially and required more fluid that we anticipated. Because his injuries were circumferential, we had to perform escharotomies on the hands and arms. We make incisions in the skin down to subcutaneous fat from the upper arm to the wrist because the extraordinary amount of fluid compresses the muscles and starves them of oxygen; the escharotomy is meant to reverse compartment syndrome and potentially allow Bill to use him arms if he manages to survive.
Bill survives resuscitation and daily monitoring of the burns reveals conversion to full thickness. All areas of full thickness (3rd degree) burn injury have to be surgically removed because that dead tissue will cause him to be septic in short order. We explain this to the family, but also caution that we are not confident that he will survive surgery due to his other health problems and depth of burn. We caution them that he is at a high risk of being completely colonized with bacteria, fungus, and mold. We are asked to proceed anyway.
In the OR, we use large blades akin to a cheese slicer to remove this dead tissue. An initial large excision in the burn OR usually ends with the floor covered in blood and it is not uncommon for patients to lose up to a liter intra-operatively. Poor Bill had his entire arms filleted down to muscle, and that muscle is beginning to look necrotic. All the skin and fat on his chest is removed. Down to muscle. Which also doesn’t look healthy. Many of these muscles do not contract with electrocautery.
We took intra-operative pictures and showed the family. Sometimes, we do this if we feel the family might not fully understand what we are doing to their loved ones. Because, and I have to stress this, there is a VERY big difference between doing something FOR a patient and doing something TO them. We are currently doing things TO Bill at this point.
“He’s a fighter! He believes in miracles!” says his family. Ok. But.
We have weekly care conferences with all families to discuss goals of care. The family wants to proceed full steam ahead in spite of our advise. When we asked “what would your dad want?” (because we are MORALLY and ETHICALLY obligated to care about the wants/desires of the PATIENT), we were told that as his medical team that we were not privy to that information; “we won’t tell you that.” We were told that we were being “too serious” and that unless his organs fail and his neuro status is trash that they will press forward. We were told that they expected their dad to be in a wheel chair anyway so his future contractures from his burns “aren’t a problem.”
It really took every ounce of patience within me not to not slap them. It really did. I understand the trauma and shock of a loved one being in that sort of situation. Not personally, of course, but I have seen this happen so many times that I know it is trying. Making decisions like this is so difficult. Families are forced to go through stages of grief at warp speed and processing everything is undoubtedly overwhelming. I know that. However. It is ABSURD that we were told we don’t have any right to know what the patient wants. Like, it doesn’t work that way. As the living next of kin, it’s YOUR JOB to be speak on their behalf. If they don’t want this shit done to them, you’re obligated to speak out.
In the end, the patient coded. We brought him back. After this the family FINALLY came to terms with the unsurvivability of the injury. They let their dad go peacefully.
What forever burns me up about this is that we were all medically hijacked by a family that could not see how cruel the treatments were to this individual. No matter what methods we tried or how sensitive we tried to be. By the time it clicked with them, we had effectively tortured their loved one and left them...left them like that. Half their skin missing. Covered in wet bandages ripe with bacteria. The smell. Everything.
The reason why I so candidly write this is that I think it’s important to know that just because we have the medical ability to “fix” something does not always mean that we should. Of course, every patient situation is different and every family is different. But I encourage you as a providers and I encourage you as family members to really weigh the treatment options. What is the result of the option. If you’re a surgeon, speak candidly about what exactly you are doing.
Because, in the end, there is a very big difference between doing something FOR the patient and doing something TO them.
#pa-c#pablr#burn medicine#trauma medicine#physician assistant#medblr#nurblr#physician associate#health care#burns
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I was rereading the iconic reunion at baltimore and this came to me and I can't not write it (even though I have a half finished chapter waiting to be written for a fic for a whole different fandom but who cares right)
in which neil regrets realizes that the feds were on to something when they talked about witness protection program. brace yourselves, it's angst time bby. please bear with me, I don't write stuff like this, content and format wise.
so everyone knows what goes down in baltimore. everyone knows that famous college exy striker for the foxes neil josten has been the son of the butcher of baltimore all along, and that smth happened after he was kidnapped and tortured that resulted in the butcher and some associates to be killed. everyone knows that neil walked out alive, injured but alive. so when a few weeks, months later, associates of the butcher start getting raided and taken in custody, everyone knows exactly who opened his little mouth and revealed everything he knows (bc there's literally no one else who could know this stuff and would be willing to share with the fucking feds, no one has a death wish)
It's a slow process. It starts with the feeling of not being safe, which is ridiculous, because he hasn't been quite as safe as he is right now, with the foxes, his family, and most importantly with Andrew. They're on summer break, technically speaking, even if they're at campus for practice because they gotta train the new foxes. They're barely doing anything than hanging out together and training, but still Neil can't shake the feeling that something is wrong, that someone is watching him, but he doesn't say anything, because it doesn't make sense, he's just being paranoid, there's no need to panic.
Neil can swear he's being watched. He feels the dread whenever he's out of the dorm, when he's out running, when they go out to eat something, when they go to the mall, on their way to practice, at Eden's. But when he looks around there's no one looking, it's been weeks and nothing has happened, he hasn't seen anyone.
Neil can tell Andrew is growing suspicious of the way he checks out a place, the way his eyes trace every corner, every exit, because he's starting to fall back in old habits, and he knows Andrew hates it. But Andrew doesn't ask, he knows that Neil will speak when he feels ready, so he lets it go, even if he can't quite let got of the worry clawing at his heart.
But everything keeps going normally, things are fine, everything is fine fine fine. Neil doesn't talk about it, but it's fine really. Until it's not fine at all, but it's also too late to talk now because his head is fuzzy and throbbing, and he feels like he might throw up and he feels pain even if he's not sure where the pain is coming from. But he can't do anything now, he can't tell Andrew how he's been feeling dread for weeks, because a man whose name he doesn't even know but whose face is awfully familiar is standing right in front of him where he lies on the floor, and the situation is also awfully familiar.
Stop being a martyr. Oh Andrew would kill him. If Neil gets out of this alive, Andrew will kill him, because he left again. He didn't want to, he really didn't. He was out on a run while Andrew was in therapy with Bee and Aaron, a couple miles away from fox tower, when a car pulled up right in front of him, two men wearing hoods and sunglasses stepping out and standing in front of him. He came to a halt, trying his best to keep calm because who the hell were these men and what did they want and for fucks sake can this just stop? It would have been smart to turn around and try to get back to the tower but he can't ever keep his mouth shut can he?
"Look I don't know who you are, I don't care what you want, but you're in my way, so move away if you know what's best." He intended to go for more sarcastic, but he was doing his best not to panic, so that had to do.
"You're coming with us, get in the car, or we'll do this the hard way." Their voices said they wouldn't hesitate, but Neil laughed anyway, that smile he knew was the Butcher's resting on his lips. Anything to make the men leave. He opened his mouth and then- "The Minyard twins are at Dr. Dobson's office. Reynolds, Walker, and Wilds are at the mall. Hemmick, Boyd and Day are in the dorms. The newbies are at the dorms as well. Come with us the easy way and we'll let them walk out of their respective places alive, Nathaniel."
And he was fucked. Of course he hadn't been safe, he would never be safe. In fact no one he cared about would ever be safe. He should have known better. But he wasn't going to let the foxes be harmed.
"How do I know you won't kill them anyway?" The snark was gone, the smile vanished. His face was blank and dangerous, because he'd done this before. "I don't even know who you are, you're obviously not the big guys, and I don't remember seeing your faces."
"We don't want to attract unnecessary attention. All we care about is you. If you come, you spare us all the trouble. As for who we are, let's just say someone is pissed at the piece of shit that ruined everything."
"The Butcher's friends then. I can't argue with that, it's a habit of mine to fuck up. Ichirou won't be too happy if something happened." He played his strongest card but fuck it. The Moriyamas owed him protection, Ichirou himself had made a deal with him.
"The moment they turned their backs to the Wesninski and made a deal with Hatford, those Japanese shits mean nothing to us." These were desperate men apparently. If the Moriyamas were nothing, the FBI was even less. "Time is running Nathaniel, decide. You or them?"
Andrew would kill him, but they'd talked about it before. Neil had told Andrew. If it means losing you, then no. He would not put himself first. Hell, he'd told the others before, the Foxes were all he had, he wasn't going to risk them for himself, not for anything. He needed to keep them safe.
So now he's lying on the cold wooden floor of some house or shed or whatever, drowsy from whatever they drugged him with once he got in the car, and in pain after being beaten for the last hour or so. He didn't bother asking the man (who is obviously in charge and sent the two men) for a name, and honestly he still doesn't plan to. What was the point of that anyway? He just looks up at the cold brown eyes of the man standing over him, Neil's face as neutral as he could keep it despite the fear of not making it out alive threatening to pull him under. The man just stares at him, calculative eyes and cruel smile, and Neil can't take it.
"What, so you're just gonna stand there? I have better shit to do." He hears the slur in his voice, wonders if it's just the drugs or something else. A concussion is likely. He's met with silence, so he closes his eyes and lays his head down. Fuck he's tired of these situations. He truly will never be safe, no one will-
"You know, I was expecting so much more from you Nathaniel," the man says with a laugh, "I was told that you'd put up a fight, I thought this would be fun. They said you'd beg for your precious life, but you haven't even made an effort."
Whoever his source was, they definitely do not know Neil, or Nathaniel for that matter. Not only is he not going to risk the men hurting the others, but he isn't going to fight, not against so many of them, not when running would be more likely to get him out alive. He isn't going to let them know that. "First go fuck yourself, and second, this isn't remotely close to entertaining to what I've been through, maybe if it was more interesting."
What does Andrew say? Regret is worthless? It seems right, because he can't find regret in what he said, even if his face is a bloody mess (what's new?) and his body shakes with shivers, after his head is held underwater so many times. No, he doesn't regret it. Instead he finds himself laughing a hollow thing.
"Y'know at least others have had a point, this time it's just for the fun of it, and it's not being much fun." His voice cracks a couple times, hoarse from coughing up water.
"You're right though, it is for fun. You cost me absolutely everything Nathaniel. Did you know the feds and the Moriyamas have been after us for months? Hunting us like we're rabbits, all because you decided to be a dipshit and open your mouth. You should be dead. You should have died ten years ago, back in March, anytime. All your existence caused us is trouble. And ratting us to the feds wasn't enough was it? No you told Ichirou all of the Butcher's men were loose ends, too." The man took a deep breath, composing himself. "So yes Nathaniel, this is for fun. This is payback, you've cost many lives, this is retribution for speaking, and I'm gonna enjoy seeing you have fun for as long as I can."
At some point, after hours, he's left alone in the dark, in the cold. He knows he’s in pain. He’s pretty sure his arm is broken, and so are several ribs. He knows he should be in a lot of pain, but he's just numb. Regret is worthless. Because even if he feels even worse than how he felt last winter at Evermore, he doesn’t regret it. He can’t be sure the guy’s men were truly going to kill the Foxes, but he doesn’t regret coming here to make sure the others don’t suffer more than they already have because of him. He wonders if Andrew will forgive him. He didn’t leave proof that he didn’t want to leave this time. Would Andrew think he left them - him? God, he hopes not. Would Andrew look for Neil or leave it thinking that Neil wanted to leave?
It doesn’t really matter, though. Neil is so tired. This time isn’t like when he was on the run or when he went to Evermore or when Lola took him. While with the Ravens, Kevin knew he was there at least, if anything were to happen, a person would know where to look somehow. At Baltimore, several people knew the most likely place to find him; Uncle Stewart, the Hatfords, Kevin again. He has no idea of where he is, or who took him, and no one knows he’s been taken in the first place. No one will ever find him.
Maybe it’s better that way, he thinks. No one will have to deal with the burden of him or his disappearance or his death, because no one will know. The simple thing would be to assume he ran. He hopes they assume he ran. Maybe they’ll be hurt, but haven’t they been expecting him to run? They won’t make it to championships without him considering Jack is an awful striker, but Kevin will manage. Andrew - Andrew is the one who expects him to run the most, maybe he’ll take it nicely. Neil hopes he takes it nicely. Guilt blossoms among the nothingness in his chest, but he can’t take it back, and he doesn’t want to. It’s better this way. No one will find him, but that’s fine. He wonders what the Moriyamas will do. He doesn’t want to think about that. He thinks of Andrew, the kisses, the care, the love, the nights spent together. Thank you, you were amazing. He wishes he could tell him how much he cares one last time. He feels something wet slip down his face. He can’t tell if it’s water, blood or tears. He sighs. He thinks of Andrew, and his eyes slip close.
#aftg#all for the game#tfc#the foxhole court#trk#the raven king#tkm#the king's men#neil josten#nora sakavic#andrew minyard#kevin day#I'm so sorry#I don't write stuff like this I mean it my angst is very different#fanfiction#also no I didn't kill neil#it's just a goodbye of sorts#aftg fanfic#no this is not betaed or revised for that matter#half of this was written while I was in class#I was going for a prompt and ended up writing almost 2k words instead lmao#sorry I write a lot in my tags#andreil#not really but it's there
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