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ilynpilled · 10 months

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i feel like ive seen too many very odd reads of this whole thing, so i do wanna go through jaime & the brutal murder of rhaegar and elia’s children situation.

first of all, we know jaime’s main function as a kingsguard at 15: he is a pawn in aerys and tywin’s beef. he is a hostage and a means to rob tywin of an heir

this is what rhaegar tells him too. despite jaime’s guilt, it was not a “i am leaving everything in your hands 💔 you are my most trusted knight” being said to an unseasoned teen, rhaegar isn’t dense, but a: “he is tywin’s son, he is the ideal hostage to keep him under control. a crutch for aerys and his dangerous paranoia (even if just to satiate him, which is why he was kept close, again, people knew that aerys was erratic atp.)” we have the actual conversation. rhaegar is open about this, he isnt really tricking jaime here. they also emphasize that he has to stay near aerys. that is his primary role, not anything else. what rhaegar didn’t take into consideration is that tywin, when it comes down to it, will sack the city anyway (neither did he know what would happen at the trident, and how badly the tides will turn, how it will affect aerys and how he will think he was betrayed by lewyn and dorne, how he will not let elia and the children leave etc), the stakes are too great for house lannister and we know tywin will not pick the losing side. it is already a pretty grim situation for jaime, who had witnessed the brutal executions of a bunch of people at this point, to be left alone in the hands of a mad man as someone who eventually becomes solely responsible for the red keep, while also being functionally a hostage while his father decides to betray the crown, but of course, aerys has a bigger plan to retaliate and therefore jaime also has bigger things to worry about.

jaime feels guilt and responsibility about the whole thing anyway, and the way it is read in the most bad faith way imaginable is kind of odd to me. the dream is extremely integral. it reveals things to us that jaime pushes down as a narrator. it peels off the layers. first of all, jaime is explicit about ned’s judgement, the kingslayer complex, and the role that played, and his concious expects ned to show up in the dream as well, but it is revealed to be not actually about that. he, and that external source of judgement and scorn, is not the thing that haunts him. we see that it is a deep sense of failure over being unable to triumph over contradictions. he reflects on this after the dream too: “it was not him. it was never him.” and the message is deliberately delivered by the ghosts of the people that embody that initial quixotic view of the world that he had as a boy.

i have seen people claim that the “light dimming” is meant to indicate jaime lying about not knowing (being aware that tywin can be very brutal and is capable of hurting innocents is different from jaime knowing or suspecting this order). even if that wasnt contradicted in the text (ill get to this), it doesnt seem to work with the dream? the fires also gutter out when he gets condemned for killing the king right after, there is no clear him “lying” consistency here. and even if you go by that interpretation, the flame is unaffected by the claim of “i was with the king”, which would then have to be true (and it is—so again what is jaime meant to do here?) because we know the scaling of maegor’s holdfast was happening simultaneously with aerys being murdered and the wildfire plot being stopped. the main function of this part of the dream is jaime’s light, a “romantic burning out” as george puts it, being destroyed by contradictory oaths and a fundamentally unjust and cynical world. the light being withered is about losing hope & purpose, and failing to keep vows that actually matter. rhaegar’s children, his guilt over them, and the oath they embody (protect the weak, defend the innocent) plague his mind. the “I never thought he’d hurt them” is relevant in a different way. jaime is guilty of being an extension of the lannister regime. he is guilty of enabling it. and this is more relevant to him after this event, in the present. the whole dream operates on three levels: past, present, and future.

it is why this idea comes up with the tysha situation as well. whether he knew or considered it at the time (and i do not personally think he did, or it was compartmentalized) or not is not whats truly relevant. i think the point that is being emphasized is that tywin and his legacy is something that has to be rejected entirely in the present. he knows by now inarguably. no more “looking without seeing.” this justification does not work anymore. anyway, the point is that his light goes out because of the terror of being confronted with these contradictory oaths and impossible situations where these heavy choices have to be made, with devastating costs. the vows cannot compromise. these are situations and choices that destroy a nonexistent ideal that he had always romanticized in every aspect of his life. it is a culmination of the build up of everything jaime held close to his heart being torn down during those two years serving in the kingsguard. it is about the conflict between ethics and morals: “In some queer way, that had been worse than Lord Chelsted’s screaming. “We are sworn to protect her as well,” Jaime had finally been driven to say. “We are,” Darry allowed, “but not from him.” & “After, Gerold Hightower himself took me aside and said to me, “You swore a vow to guard the king, not to judge him.”

but this situation is intentionally impossible in every aspect. morals and ethics conflict. we have the obvious of what do you do when killing the king breaks the oath you swore to protect him? what if not doing it means breaking the oath to protect the innocent? what if your heroes condemn you despite you telling them the full context of this dilemma and make the fire gutter out permanently? what if being with the king (be it to protect him or kill him to save a city) means you are not there to protect the children from your own father (who you are also sworn to obey)? the moral constructs that this society operates with is nonsense, and it is not confronted by people. can the horrors be fought at all? this is how you have someone described as a “very idealistic young man” by george turn into the amoral bitter cynic we see in the actual series who proceeds to revolve his life around another delusion instead, the only one that remains to him, and loses his own moral code due to how extremely it all conflicts with all code of ethics. it results in a cowardly acceptance of the horrors, his selfishness and faux nihilism, and leads to the enablement and perpetuation of evil.

there is a reason this whole thing haunts jaime and his narrative, and starts blending together with the starks in adwd (something jaime is directly accountable for), and is a huge factor when it comes to jaime effectively contradicting tywin’s dogma when he goes with brienne. jaime became that “knight” in many ways, he, by his own admission, became the smiling knight, who he later also labels “the mountain of my boyhood.” but he is not anymore, which is why there are notable anti parallels in that chapter.

when it comes to how much jaime knew back then, i think the text is pretty clear:

1. if jaime knew or suspected that tywin had the massacre of an entire family already in motion the hope of “leaving to make terms” would not really be there. 2. after he is found, crakehall informs him that they secured the city and the castle. jaime points out in retrospect that this was only half true, and that he couldn’t have known about the scaling (and other things) still happening by this point. jaime is under the impression that everything is secured as a result. he orders everyone who yields to be spared. he is also under the impression as per his narration that aegon is still there, safe and alive, and could be a potential king. however, he does become concerned about the possibility of another aerys. there is a reason he climbs the throne here imo. i never read this as “jaime too busy fucking around lol” or “is intentionally letting them die because his blood is in both of them.” again, he orders everyone who yields spared, and is under the impression that the castle is already secured. he even entertains the possibility of tywin being hand to aegon as king (clearly not possible with what is in the middle of happening —and if he even suspects this threat, why is this considered a possibility by him?) until he gets an aerys flashback, and decides against it despite it serving his family. he has a lot of things on his mind right now anyway to figure out tywin’s current strategy when it comes to house lannister (not to mention this is not really how jaime’s brain works, he is not very machiavellian minded) considering he just damned himself by committing one of the most significant oathbreakings in history, and that someone will fill the hole left by the person who had the power to nuke a city, something that jaime has nightmares about nearly 20 years later. and even if he was aware of this threat that he clearly wasn’t, considering the fact that it was happening simultaneously with jaime killing aerys and being found, if he knew and tried to rush over there after killing aerys, judging from the distance, it would have been too late. hence “i was with the king…” in the dream.

#jaime lannister #i am genuinely baffled at how something so clearly presented can be skewed to the point that it usually is #like this is the core of much of his character too like hello #ig bc none of this was in the show??? lol???

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lu-is-not-ok · 10 months

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horrid thought i had: if your theory on k corp hong lu being semi-conscious during stasis is right, does that not mirror carmen during lobotomy corporation?

...

Wait. Hold on. Wait. Wait hold on.

Ok, so here's the thing: For a while now I've already had a suspicion that Hong Lu's deal is like, way more important than he lets on.

This might sound like a conspiracy Game Theory Matpat rant, but here me out.

First of all, Hong Lu has this weird tendency to break patterns in much less obvious ways than the other suspicious Sinners, to the point it's been driving me insane?

Like.

Okay.

First.

Remember those promo PVs of each Sinner? And how each of them ended on a glimpse of their trauma and All of them either directly referenced a potentially traumatic event or had the Sinner sound distraught? Except for Hong Lu, who doesn't sound in any way distressed like the others did, and then after the game logo is revealed he asks if something he said was weird.

Like, sure, it does make sense for him to say that in context of what he says during that video, but isn't it so fucking weird that the one Sinner with a section in his promo that seems slightly off is also the one who asks if anything he said during that section was weird?

Second.

You know those intro segments during the prologue, that are also on the official limbuscompany.com website? The ones that offer managerial instructions for each Sinner?

Pay close attention to those. For every Sinner, these instructions specify how to deal with that specific Sinner's eccentricities.

Don't show Gregor your disgust. Wait for Rodya's bad mood to pass. Give Sinclair positive reinforcement. Wait patiently for Yi Sang to finish thinking. Look Ishmael's way for sound advice, but don't break her trust. Understand Heathcliff is simple-minded and contact HR if he causes problems. Play along with Don's Fixer act. Don't make Ryoshu breed personal resentment towards you. Give clear and concise commands to Meursault. Give Outis short replies of agreement but keep an eye on her. Simply nod and get it over with when conversing with Faust.

...But then there's Hong Lu's. Which says nothing how to deal with his eccentricities, but rather to not let Other Sinners get physical with him over them. It's not about keeping him in line, it's about keeping other people's reactions to him in line.

I want to note this especially because several other Sinners break patterns in their introductions as well. Meursault's is one sentence. Ryoshu and Outis have a warning. Don Quixote's particulars include a [REDACTED] on the website. Faust's directly asks the manager to fuck around and find out. However, the way Hong Lu's intro instructions break the pattern is the most subtle out of all of them, to the point I genuinely did not realize that was the case until I had read all of them over multiple times.

Third.

Hong Lu's Base E.G.O animation. If you watch all of the Base E.G.O animations in a row, you'll notice that for all of them, the Sinners start already in frame... Except for Hong Lu, who visibly jumps into the frame from off-screen.

Now, you could argue that, technically, Don runs into her animation from off-screen as well, however I think there is a bit of a difference here. Don's animation is too quick to see her actually run in. We see she's not there for maybe a frame, before she pops with an animation that implies she had just run in and needs to break her momentum. This is unlike Hong Lu's, whom we Actively See descend from Off-Screen.

Now, I know what some of you may be thinking.

That I am coping. That these are coincidences. That I'm looking too deeply into things.

However. Here's a connection that I just recently realized, that has been Fucking Me Up.

Mild spoilers for Canto IV and like the first two chapters or so of Dream of the Red Chamber, if anyone cares.

You know how Limbus Company has this... fixation on stars? There's the whole thing with Dante following a star, stars granting wishes, people turning into weird beings from wishing to be stars, and there's this general connection to the sky and space because of Demian also doubling as a reference to The Little Prince.

And then something weird hit me.

See, Dream of the Red Chamber starts with a bit of a backstory to the jade that would later be reincarnated into Bao-yu. You see, it was one of the many stones used by a godess to create the sky. However, this one specific jadestone ended up being the only one not used in that creation, which then led to it feeling horrible about itself, which then led to a monk and a taoist deciding to have that stone reincarnate as a human and live through a human life, kickstarting the rest of the novel.

I'm like, heavily simplifying this, but that's the gist of how that whole thing starts.

Which. Made me think. A jadestone that was part of the ones meant to build the sky, but ended up being left unused. The sky. Stars. Hong Lu being seemingly named after the jade rather than Bao-yu directly.

Holy shit there's no way they won't reference this in some way, right? Right?

So, now imagine me, at my fucking wit's end, having the biggest crackpot theory brewing in my mind.

And you send this ask comparing K Corp Hong Lu to Carmen.

I am going insane.

#limbus company #limbus company project moon #hong lu #hong lu lcb #lcb analysis #lcb speculation #lcb canto iv #lcb spoilers #ask #mulberriesandtea #lu speaketh #no i'm not normal thanks for asking

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roseandgold137 · 4 months

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HI I'M THE TALIA ANON!!!

honestly the explanation of imitating photos makes so much sense as to why I love them so much. it gives talia life. i'm a dancer and I know how hard it is to get a photo where i'm not just a jumble of limbs blurred together. so when I do get a clear photo it makes it more precious in a way? like kinda like a secret between the dancer and the viewer, the photographer caught me just in time to catch my essence before i'm doing the next thing. the way you draw makes it look like I looked up from doing something and I was lucky enough to see talia.

you know i always wanted to take a course in art history, but I never did. i think I might search up the art movement you were talking about because I think I'll really like it.

i feel like i read a comic that said that talia did ballet, but I cannot remember which comic it was. i can't find any courses online that talk about her being a ballerina, but I've been seeing so much ballet stuff since it's the holidays so can I request a ballerina!Talia.It doesn't have to be Nutcracker if you don't want to! Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Don Quixote, or some other ballet, choose your pick.

that description is so beautiful… a good photographer is so invaluable and a good subject is indispensable, and when both work in tandem the results are just mwah,, also please do research Impressionism you won’t regret it fr. One of my favourite Impressionists is Berthe Morisot, she was the first and only female impressionist to exhibit in the first ever impressionist exhibition, alongside more well-known artists such as Monet, her paintings are truly beautiful and she had a wonderfully distinct style

Art rants aside, here’s a ballerina Talia! Not sure where the reference I chose was from, but the feather head dress makes me think it could have been a swan lake :)

#asks #talia anon #talia al ghul #batman #ballet #she is so pretty… brb im about to become Damian’s stepmom

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amaretigris · 4 months

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Developpe Ch. 4

1.2k words | Spicy fluff 🔥

Taglist: @luna2034 @mylittlemermaid221 @notagreekgal28

For reference in this chapter, the first pic is a fish lift, and the second is a fish dive. ☺️

That was a close call. Seeing you curtsey in your little ballet skirt, with only leggings underneath, gave Jonah ideas. The image of him bending you over his desk popped into his head, but he quickly shook it away. He didn't know what he'd gotten himself into.

In class on Monday, you were met with several glares. Several other ballerinas were huddled in the corner, looking you up and down, and whispering about why you'd been chosen for the lead female part in Don Quixote. You were a nobody from nowhere, after all.

Clearing your throat, trying to ignore the icy stares, you walked up to the casting list on the wall. You face lit up when you saw your name at the top for the part of Kitri. You were excited for the role, but just as excited that Jonah had kept his word to you. What exactly did this mean going forward? You weren't sure, but the possibilities thrilled you. While you were busy restraining your thoughts, you saw Jonah enter the studio.

Bouncing to your normal spot, you didn't turn to face him, but followed his reflection in the mirror. Jonah was carrying a stack of paper, and walked straight to the equipment closet. After he pulled everything out, he got everyone's attention.

"Alright class! The casting has been posted. I have the list of dance sequences for each role printed. This includes individual and group dances. Please pass these around and find yours in the stack. If you have any questions or issues, you can come to my office during office hours."

His expression grew stern for a moment.

"Do not, however, come to my office and ask me to reconsider the casting. These roles have been chosen for the dancers who have shown exceptional skill and proclivity."

You felt goosebumps covering your body at his words. The notion of Jonah thinking you were skilled was a pleasant one. You were flying high through class. You began practicing your solo dances. They were tough, but you were grateful to be learning them.

At the end of class, you put your jacket on much more carefully. As you slipped your fingers into the pockets, feeling the creases in the fabric, but no note, you were a little disappointed. Surely you couldn't expect one every day, though. He'd gone out on a limb to give you the first note. You should be happy for now, and patient.

The next class period, you found yourself struggling. You were practicing the couples dance with Sebastian, who had been cast as Don Quixote himself. You were happy your new friend had gotten the part, but the two of you didn't have the moves down yet. The couples dance included a fish lift, and you and Sebastian were not synced on the positioning.

"Again," Jonah said, watching the two of you.

You almost fell to the floor on this attempt, but Sebastian caught you at the last second.

"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" Jonah asked when you were standing back up straight.

You met his eyes.

"Yes. I'm sorry."

He shook his head.

"Don't apologize. Try again," he coaxed.

You two practiced this lift for the rest of the class period, with no luck.

"Don't cha worry," Sebastian smiled, "we'll get it soon."

You nodded.

"We will. Thank you Sebastian. Nice work today."

Turning to retrieve your coat, you felt giddiness rise up in your chest when you felt a sliver of paper in your pocket. You calmly walked out of the studio, unfolding it carefully.

My office for office hours.

Practically skipping back to your room, you showered, and busied yourself with tidying up your space until it was time to go to Jonah's office. The whole way there, you could feel your heart racing. You took a centering breath, and knocked on his door. Jonah called for you to come in. You noticed that he wasn't wearing glasses today.

"Hello," you smiled, taking the seat closest to him this time.

"Hello, (Y/N)," he smiled back at you, then his features twisted. "You and Sebastian seemed to have been struggling on synchronizing your positioning today," he said frankly.

You sucked in a breath. Shit. You hoped he wouldn't take the part away from you.

"I know. I'm sorry. Hopefully we can get it next time," you tried to placate.

Jonah shrugged his shoulders.

"Hopefully. I think we should try it."

You could hear the blood rushing up in your ears.

"W-What?" you squeaked out.

Jonah put on a wolfish grin at that.

"I said I think we should try it. I can show you the man's proper position. I'll just pull the chairs to the back of the room," he motioned to the chair you were sitting in.

He got up out of his own chair and rounded his desk. You slowly stood, stepping out of the way for him to pull the chairs to the back wall. With those out of the way, he padded across his office. You watched him lock the door, and your adrenaline spiked. When his eyes met yours again, they had a mischievous twinkle in them. Seeing his larger frame coming toward you made you want to swoon.

"What if someone comes by?" You managed to choke out.

He was much taller than you, looking down at your smaller frame when he stopped only inches from you.

"No one will. You're the only student that's been brave enough to come by my office this semester. Besides, I locked the door," he cooed.

He held his hands up, gently caressing the back of your arms.

"Should we get started?" he breathed.

You didn't know if this was a good idea, but you weren't going to say no. Sucking in another breath, you raised yourself en pointe, and assumed your first pose of the dance. You were amazed to see Jonah lift onto his toes, too. Without another thought, you began, first going into the pirouette, then shifting to the battement. Jonah did the same, surprising you with his flexibility. Trying not to let yourself get too distracted, you spun into him, setting up for the fish lift.

Putting his hands around your waist and inner thigh, Jonah pulled you close to his body, and lifted you into position. He walked a small circle with you, then letting you go down into the fish dive. Feeling the magic of the moment, you didn't want it to end. Several seconds later, Jonah pulled you up. Suddenly turning to him, giggling with happiness, you came face to face with your instructor.

He seemed short of breath; you weren't sure whether it was from the move or the moment. Looking up into his soft blue eyes, you smiled.

"Thank you. That was wonderful," you chirped.

Jonah's dimples made their appearance, making your smile grow wider. You couldn't tear your eyes from his.

"It's no problem," Jonah insisted. "You just need an experienced partner."

Raising his right hand up to your cheek, he settled it there. Touching your skin, Jonah's eyes blew wide. This was the first time you'd ever touched skin to skin. He felt an instant spark through his fingertips. You felt the same pulse of energy, and your heart was beating out of your chest. You knew that he'd experienced the same sensation, based on his reaction.

"What're you going to do about it?" you spoke before thinking, casting your eyes down to Jonah's lips, and back up again.

Jonah creased his brow and studied your eyes until he made a decision. Nodding slightly, he urgently molded his lips to yours.

#jonah hauer king #jonah hauer king x reader #jonah hauer king x y/n #jonah hauer king imagine #jonah hauer king x fem reader #the little mermaid 2023 #my stuff

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archiveikemen · 1 year

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Liam Evans Main Story: Chapter 2

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading and playing their games.

read this before interacting with my posts

Liam: … The name of tonight’s show is called “Don Quixote”.

Liam: It’s showtime! I’ll make you forget all about those frightening and unpleasant things.

In front of me, Liam acted out different roles and performed a one-man play for me.

Sometimes he was Don Quixote the old man, sometimes he was Sancho Panza the farmer.

And sometimes, he played the role of a prostitute at an inn.

(... He brings all the characters to life with his acting.)

Don Quixote, who continued his pilgrimage at an old age, laughed and said…

Liam: “As long as I’m alive, there is hope.”

Before I knew it, Liam had hopped off my bed and turned on the lights, and he was back to being himself.

Liam: Did you like it, my lovely audience member?

Kate: Yes, I loved it! … Words aren't enough to describe how much I did.

Liam: Haha I’m glad to hear that.

Liam easily took away my anxiety and worries about what I would face the next day.

Still feeling enchanted, I gave him a round of applause.

Liam’s lips relaxed into a smile.

Liam: … You’re smiling. Mmhmm, your smile is genuine this time.

(Oh…)

I was so mesmerised by Liam’s performance that I didn't realise I was smiling.

(However…)

Kate: Why did you decide to show me that play?

Liam: Hm?

Kate: I know you were trying to cheer me up. But why would you do that for me alone…?

Liam: Yesterday, you could recognise who I was, because you remember me. That’s why I thought that you’d like to watch me perform.

== Flashback Start ==

Kate: I think I’ve seen you before… oh!

(This man was at the play I went to last month… he’s a stage actor!)

Liam: You already know me? That’s great. I’m a stage actor on the surface, and a member of Crown behind the scenes. My name is Liam Evans.

Liam: Let’s get along well from now on, cutie Kate.

== Flashback END ==

(… It was such a small thing, and yet he remembers it so clearly.)

Liam crouched down in front of me while I sat on the floor.

Liam: In the future, if there’s anything clouding your mind, I’ll clear it for you.

Liam: Come on, close your eyes. Imagine…

(Like this…?)

I did as he said and closed my eyes.

Liam: How about I invite you to have a first class seat at a play? I can help dress you up for that.

Liam: After that, we’ll go to town together. We can shop at Harrods to our hearts content.

Liam: Ah, I discovered a great gelato shop in the back alley the other day. We can buy some for ourselves and eat there too!

Liam: Harry has a sweet tooth, and even he praised the gelato from that shop. So it’s definitely good!

Liam: We don’t always have to stay in one town. Every once in a while, we can take the locomotive to a far away destination.

Liam: And then—

Something soft touched the back of my hand.

(…!)

(Did he just…)

Liam: And of course, we can do more than this.

Kate: More than this…?

Liam: Yeah. Don’t tell the other guys in Crown, though.

Liam suddenly put one hand on the nape of my neck and pulled my face towards him in a forceful yet gentle manner.

I could see a reflection of my face in his rose coloured eyes.

(...!)

Liam: I’m good at making people feel good. I love playing with them until they turn into a mess.

Liam: I do it alot.

Liam: … Want to do it now?

(Should I…)

The sweet smell of vanilla and his seductive gestures nearly captivated my heart—

(No no no no no! How can it be possible for such a popular guy to be interested in me!?)

Kate: Pfft ahahaha! I almost took your joke seriously for a moment there. Thanks, Liam.

Liam: … That wasn’t a joke.

Liam: But at least it made you laugh.

Liam smiled and sat down next to me, shoulder to shoulder.

In the silence of the night, only our breathing could be heard.

Liam: Hey, Kate.

Kate: …?

Liam: You’re going to be living here for a month.

Liam: During this period of time, it’s inevitable that you’ll encounter more scary and disturbing things. However…

Liam: Make sure that nothing can harm all of you.

Kate: All of me…?

Liam: How should I put this…

Liam: You’re the only one who can know how you truly feel, in the very core of your heart.

I tried to guess what Liam meant.

I’m sure that everyone has something soft and sensitive hidden deep in their hearts.

Liam: Your heart belongs to you, and only you. I hope that you’ll let me help you stay just the way you are.

(My heart belongs to only me…)

Liam’s words gradually softened my heart that was almost turned into stone.

All fear and anxiety started to melt away.

(... I still don’t have my own opinion.)

I won’t look away from anything that happens in front of my eyes, till the day I can form an opinion about them.

I’ll bravely face the members of Crown.

Because this is the only way I can survive, and the only thing I can do for the next month.

Kate: … Alright.

I got up and reached for the cream stew on my table that had already turned cold.

Liam: Is your appetite back?

Kate: … Not really. But I don’t want the food to go to waste, and I have to at least eat something so I’m ready to face tomorrow.

Liam: … Tomorrow?

Kate: Even if today was a bad day, I want to keep going in hopes that tomorrow will be better. Therefore, I need strength to do that.

That was just a show of courage and my true feelings.

Liam: I see. … I’ve never thought that way before.

Kate: …?

Liam: Nothing, I was just saying that it's great that you think that way. Hey, can I stay here for a while longer?

Kate: Of course, if you want to.

Liam: Yay! I'll have something to eat too. I’ll get you something as well.

Liam and I continued chatting about all sorts of things through the night. For the first time in a while, I got a proper sleep…

...

(Mm… so bright…)

I opened my eyes when the sun shone on my eyelids.

Liam: Good morning, Kate.

Kate: …

Kate: WAAAHH…!

Liam: Heh, you’re good at waking up. It’s too bad I didn't get a chance to take advantage of you.

Liam: I’d kiss you to wake you up if you were half asleep and groggy.

Kate: W-Why am I using your arm as a pillow…

Liam: Oh, you fell asleep while we were chatting. So I thought that you’d sleep better this way.

(Right. I fell asleep without realising it…)

I quickly moved away from Liam and bowed my head so much that my forehead grazed against the sheets.

Kate: … Sorry.

Liam: No worries. Actually, I was lucky I could look at your face all night.

(... Maybe I’ve been too wary of him.)

(This feels strange. I’m not usually like this.)

He was like a star I couldn't reach, shining brighter than anyone could ever shine.

And yet, like a stray cat, he wandered into my heart and made me let my guard down around him.

Liam was a very unusual person.

While I was thinking about it, Liam fiddled with my bangs.

Liam: Your bed hair is so cute.

Kate: N-No, it isn’t. Please stop looking at it.

Liam: Eh— I don’t want to. Come on, let me have a better look at it.

Kate: H-Hey…!

Victor: Good morning, Miss Kate! I baked you some muffi—

Kate • Liam: … Ah.

Victor: Wow.

As I stared at Victor’s wide-eyed face, my current situation slowly started to sink in.

(He misunderstood us!)

Kate: Victor, it’s not…

Victor: You and Liam are both adults, so I don't see anything wrong if it was consensual, but…

Liam: Really? Victor, you’re so open-minded.

Victor: But what is this small feeling of desolation sweeping through my heart?

Victor: Ah, I’m so petty…!

Liam: That was loud! Hahaha you’re so energetic early in the morning, Victor.

Victor: Is this what parenting feels like…!? Looks like I’ve entered a new phase in life…

Kate: Um, Victor! Please hear me out…

Harrison: I heard someone yell, did something happ...en…

Ellis: Kate, I heard a… yell…

Harrison • Ellis: …

Harrison: Ohh, I see. Not bad, Liam.

Ellis: As long as Kate is happy, I’m fine…

(This is getting out of control! I have to clarify the situation before more people come over.)

Just as I was about to lose my mind, I made eye contact with Jude who was passing through the hallway.

Jude: …

Jude: Hah. What’s this all about?

Jude: Whore.

Kate: N-No…!

…

(... I feel like what happened this morning really drained my energy.)

After clearing up the misunderstanding, I went into the garden and pulled out my notepad.

I recalled what Victor told me about my work becoming a valuable resource to aid the research being conducted on “curses”, and also act as a report of Crown’s activities to Her Majesty the Queen.

(I want to make sure that the things I write will be useful. But…)

I still didn’t know anything about Crown.

Apart from the part about them fighting evil with evil.

(I need to find out more about everyone here.)

But as someone who just came to this place, it didn’t feel right for me to pry into their business.

It felt as if I was overstepping boundaries. Even though it was part of the task I was entrusted with, I was still hesitant.

I looked up at the sky, pondering about what I should do. That’s when—

Liam: Kate! I finally found you.

Kate: Liam.

Liam squinted his rose coloured eyes happily as he walked up to me with a spring in his steps—

Liam: Hey, Kate. Want to go on a date with me? Right now.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil main story #liam main story

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fuckyeahhistorycrushes · 1 year

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Michel Ney, one of Napoleon's marshals. He was called 'the bravest of the brave' because of his bravery and impulsiveness in battle.

When the French army was retreating from Russia, he was the last man to leave Russian soil. At Waterloo, he led the cavalry charge against the British. When it became clear that defeat was inevitable, he seeked death on the battlefield. During the battle, he had five horses killed under him, and at the end of the day, Ney led one of the last infantry charges, shouting to his men: "Come and see how a marshal of France meets his death!"

After Napoleon's defeat he was imprisoned and executed by his very own soldiers.

He refused to wear a blindfold, instead choosing to command the soldiers who fired at him, saying: "Soldiers, when I give the command to fire, fire straight at my heart. Wait for the order. It will be my last to you. I protest against my condemnation. I have fought a hundred battles for France, and not one against her ... Soldiers, fire!"

He was known as Le Rougeaud by his men; Napoleon characterized him as "le Brave des braves (the Bravest of the Brave), a real paladin in the field, a braggart without judgment and decision in the workroom and after all is said, a Don Quixote".

I first learned about him when I was 14 during a history lesson and to say I was captivated by his life was an understatement. Since then I have read anything I could find to gain more knowledge about him as a person. I think of him whenever I feel like I could use some courage. I hope to one day visit his grave in Paris and the town where he was born.

#history #history crushes #submission

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

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don quixote and the classics // bucky barnes bookstore! au

pairing: bucky barnes x bookkeeper! reader

summary: bucky develops a sudden affinity for secondhand books from one specific store, and coincidentally, that store just so happens to employ a pretty, intriguing bookkeeper. from don quixote to the history of Hun empire archery techniques, bucky just wants to see you again.

warnings: swearing, mutual pining, the avengers are meddling assholes but i love it, couple references to my favorite books, and oblivious reader

w/c: 6.5k

prompt 6 by @juicywritinghoard

“librarian desperate to understand what wild phase the other character is going thru rn”

＊✿❀　❀✿＊

when you dreamed of moving to new york, you had hoped your days would be spent glamourously lounging in high-end bars, frequenting gentrified hip indie cafés (because let’s be honest, you can’t escape them these days), and/or getting yourself a sugar daddy.

what you didn’t plan for was working six days a week at a shitty bookstore where you tripped over the loose floorboard behind the counter even after three months. granted, the “shittiness” of it all was quite charming, and the old man who owned the place was probably the sweetest person you’d ever met—which said a lot because you hated old people.

the business had been slaw. as aforementioned, the gentrified millennial-catered cat-café-bookshop-cabaret-bars blew whatever “run-down charm” your store could try to advertise itself as. you spent most of your time abandoning the counter, since it wasn’t like there were customers who needed to purchase things anyway. instead, you’d found yourself lost in shelves of haphazardly organized books (fuck the dewey decimal system), trying to squeeze in new finds (and by new, you meant the battered up copies that the owner’s friends had no more use for) but eventually settling for stacking them horizontally on top of the rows and rows of dusty books.

you’d never admit it, but this place had become your home. sure, it was probably decomposing. and you swore that you saw a squirrel in there once. but you and your single coworker were always treated with baked goods from the owner and paid a reasonable salary. the owner had done so much for you back when you were a naive, freshly moved-in new yorker. he’d fed you when your bills were becoming too much, he offered you a job and made sure you were paid enough, and once, he even let you crash on the cushy chairs in the back when the subway was down and a thunderstorm was raging.

today was like any average day, so essentially a day full of nothing. stevie nicks crooned through the old radio—the owner insisted on CDs—and you hummed along, occasionally singing some of the lyrics you knew. when the bell chimed and you heard the hinges of the door squeak, you yourself let out a squeak.

“uh, hello?” a raspy male voice called from the front of the store. he cleared his throat. “is there anyone- are you guys open? i didn’t see a closed sign or anything and the lights were on so…” he was speaking to nobody in particular, trailing off after he heard no response.

“okay, um, no worries! have a good day,” he called to no one, turning to leave.

“wait! wait, come back!” you huffed as you ran to the front of the store, clutching your stomach to catch your breath. “sorry, i thought i was hallucinating. we haven’t had a customer in a long time.” you winced. “that’s really bad advertising, isn’t it,” you muttered to yourself.

the man laughed. “no worries, i’m enjoying our introduction, actually.” he hesitantly held his flesh hand out for you to shake. “bucky. bucky barnes?” he waited for some sort of recognition to flash in your eyes, or maybe a recoil, or maybe for you to ask him to leave. instead, you took his hand in yours and gave him two firm shakes. he smiled at your confident grip.

“as much as i’m glad you’re enjoying this introduction at my expense—sorry about that, by the way; customer service is not my thing—how can i help you?”

“i’m looking for a book,” he said, eyes flickering around the crowded bookshelves as if he were a little intimidated.

“then you’re in the right place,” you snorted. “sorry, that was rude of me. sorry. do you know what you’re looking for? our organization system is a bit… unique, so i can show you to our different sections if you need.”

“that’d be great, actually,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. “do you have anything on… gardening? botanicals? specifically flowers? ones that are native to the east coast would be preferable.”

you smiled, picturing the burly man in front of you curled up on an armchair, scanning pages and pages about delicate, colorful petals and local flora. “we do, actually! come with me.”

the man—no, bucky—trailed behind you, mesmerized by the way you navigated seemingly random stacks of books with such familiarity. you stopped abruptly and he nearly walked into you—and thank god for that, because he probably would’ve run you over.

“here ‘ya go!” you chirped, running your hand over the spines of botanical books fondly. “if it’s not too invasive to ask, but why are you looking for books on flowers? no offense, but you don’t really seem like,” you waved your hands around, “a flower kind of guy.”

bucky chuckled, already immersed in his hunt for the perfect book. “you’re right, i’m not. my friend wanda’s been wanted to start a garden, but she’s always been a city girl. we have a place further out from the city with a good amount of land, so i’m hoping to get her started.”

“that’s so sweet!” you swooned, smiling widely. “you’re such a wonderful boyfriend. god, those are rare.”

“oh no- uh, we’re not dating,” bucky stammered, cheeks flushing slightly as he refused to meet your eyes. his hands froze midair, fingers dancing across the spine of a book. “we just live… together. there’s a lot of us there.”

“ah, so you guys are like fancy outskirts-of-new-york co-inhabitants, huh?” you gazed at the ceiling thoughtfully. “never met anyone like that.”

“well, normal is not a word i’d use to describe myself,” he said with a hint of bitterness. was that right? he was bitter?

you leaned against one of the shelves as you watched him search. when he found what he was looking for, he turned with the book clutched against his chest, giving you a triumphant grin.

“you found one! c’mon, i’ll get you all checked out.”

bucky couldn’t help but watch as your fingers danced across the old register whose numbers on the keys had begun to fade. you flipped the book to the back to check the price. “hey, you got a good deal! five dollars, please.”

he fished for his wallet and handed you a crumpled bill. you smiled and handed him his book. perhaps it was intentional or maybe it was simply an accident, but bucky shivered when your fingertips brushed against his own. “it was nice to meet you, bucky,” you waved cheerfully as he left, a bit reluctant to say goodbye. he held his hand up in parting, walking out the door backward to keep you in his sight for as long as possible, almost bumping into a passing pedestrian who shot him a glare. you giggled.

as he began the walk back to the subway, he flipped through his new book. he smiled to himself. right in the center of the pages was a delicate bookmark, stained with dancing hues of a painter’s watercolor touch.

wanda was overjoyed at bucky’s gift. she seemed to love the secondhand nature of it, claiming “that’s what gives it personality!” bucky agreed that the book had personality, but he didn’t think it was because of its age. it was because it reminded him of the sweet bookkeeper’s smile. unbeknownst to wanda, he’d taken the bookmark out and kept it for himself.

steve’s birthday was coming up, and seeing as wanda couldn’t stop gushing over her plants, the rest of the team had taken an interest to where the book had come from. when living in a hundred-million-dollar complex, something as simple as the concept of paying for a battered-up, used item was a bit foreign.

“you’re back!” you’d exclaimed at the sight of bucky’s smiling face. it was late june, and between his first meeting with you and today’s mission of retrieving a birthday present for steve, he’d stopped by three times already.

“your favorite regular has arrived,” he grinned, draping himself over the counter teasingly to admire your face. you swatted him away.

“you’re my only regular and you know it.” you tapped his nose. “so what are you looking for today?” you came out from behind the counter, taking extra care to skip over the loose floorboard. after tripping over it twice in front of bucky, you were determined to take extra caution.

“something on art, actually.” he looked down at you adoringly as you stood in front of him, head tilted up to meet his eyes as you rocked back and forth excitedly on the balls of your feet.

“ooooh, you’re versatile!” you wrapped your small hand around his wrist, catching bucky off guard, but by some miracle, a wave of courage swept over him and he slipped his wrist out of your grasp and interlocked your fingers with his. if you were caught off guard, you made no indication, but bucky could swear your heart jumped a little.

you weaved the two of you through the shelves once more. the two of you were fully aware that bucky could probably navigate just fine on his own after his multiple visits here, but neither of you would complain about the extra few minutes you’d get to spend together.

as he browsed, you settled into your usual routine of chatting as he searched and you leaned casually against a shelf. “... so first you come in with gardening, and then the next week it’s archery during the Hun empire, and then last week you get two books—which were great picks, by the way; you were very tasteful with the don quixote and thinking of you reading alice in wonderland absolutely made my day-”

bucky blushed. you had been thinking of him?

“-and now you’re here for art? i’ve got to say, i’m extremely impressed, buck.”

he stood up from his crouch, where he had been examining the lower shelves for the perfect book, and held it up to you for approval. this was also part of the routine—he’d pick out a book, you’d inspect it, and if you deemed it a good fit, he’d buy it.

“i love it! mainstreamers of modern art? i never pegged you for a modern art guy, but i see it now. you’re adventurous.” as the two of you made your way through the checkout process, he couldn’t help the thought that’d been running through his mind the past few weeks.

“do you make the bookmarks yourself?

this time, it was your turn to blush. “um, yeah, actually.” you hesitated before handing him his book and meeting his eye. “i’m no picasso,” you tapped on the cover of the book where his art was featured, “but before you started coming, i had a lot of free time. so i started making little bookmarks.”

the loveliest smile you’d ever seen on bucky’s face, or anybody’s face, for that matter, spread ear-to-ear like the flowers you assumed that wanda had successfully been nurturing.

“what is it?” you laughed nervously, tilting your head away from him shyly.

he reached out and took hold of your jaw with a gentle touch. he wasn’t sure where all this courage was coming from. perhaps it was the spirit of capitan america running through his bloodstream. “don’t… don’t look away. don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s beautiful,” he confessed, eyes never leaving yours just as his hand refused to pull away from where it had reached up to caress your face. the two of you were trying to contain your bashful smiles.

“thank… thank you,” you whispered, finding your faces a bit too close for this to be platonic. at this point, you weren’t sure if the “beautiful” bucky had been talking about was referring to the bookmarks or to you. you hoped it was the latter.

the clanging of the bell broke your spell. the both of you jumped back; you pretended to be busying yourself with papers that didn’t exist and bucky’s arms snapped to his side like a soldier in position. a young woman appeared at the door.

“wanda?” bucky revelled, eyebrows furrowing as he took in the figure of a curious customer scanning the store.

“no, bucky. vision decided to emulate me and come all the way down here to terrorize you. yes, it’s me, wanda,” she deadpanned.

“wanda!” you abandoned your nonexistent busywork. “you’re bucky’s roommate? i’ve heard so much about you? how’s the garden coming along? what’d you think of the book? i’m not sure if- i put bookmarks in all the purchased books, i hope yours didn’t fall out! i put a flowery patterned one in there for you,” you gushed, overjoyed to meet a friend of bucky’s and get a glimpse of his personal life which he was incredibly guarded about. oh, and because you had a new customer, obviously.

“bucky’s told me all about you as well! it’s so nice to finally meet you!” you hesitated for a second as wanda wrapped you into a big hug before reciprocating with equal enthusiasm. bucky didn’t care about wanda’s comment as much as he was thrilled to see you get along with his friends.

“and yes, i loved the bookmark,” wanda said, shooting bucky a questioning glance, eyebrows raised. bucky wilted under her knowing look.

“how did you even find me, wanda?” bucky chewed his lip nervously at wanda’s mischievous smirk.

“oh, it was totally an accident. i found this darling store online and i knew i just had to come get steve’s birthday present here. it just so happens that this is the place you’ve been running off to all these weeks! i can’t believe you’d keep this gem to yourself,” she simpered, taking hold of your hand.

“you know, bucky can’t stop talking about this place,” she smiled. “and you,” she whispered connivingly into your ear. you felt your face heat up and hoped wanda couldn’t tell. she could.

“r-really? that’s so sweet of you,” you stammered, eyes flickering between wanda and bucky. bucky looked like he was going to sink into the floor.

you cleared your throat. “so, you said you’re looking for a birthday present? would you like some assistance or are you good to wander on your own?” you deflected, letting go of wanda’s hand when you felt yours begin to clam up.

“well, i see bucky’s already beat me to the art book. i think steve might like a classic though. he’s been trying to catch up on everything he missed when he was under the ice, and i know he’s always had a soft spot for the paperbacks with the pretty colors. you should stop by and check out his collection!”

you narrowed your eyes. “under… under the ice?” you questioned, not sure where this was going and wondering if you needed to call an ambulance and/or schedule a psychological examination for wanda.

“yeah, you- oh, has bucky not told you?” the both of you turned back to look at bucky, who was still frozen in place by the counter with his eyes wide. wanda turned back to you smugly. “we’re here for steve rogers. you know, captain america.”

your mouth dropped as you stared at wanda blankly. you weren’t sure if you were drooling or not, but you wouldn’t be surprised if you were.

“c-capitan america? the real one? a-and are you wanda, as in the scarlet witch? holy shit. and- oh my god,” you panted, eyes wild. “bucky?”

bucky met your eye, apprehensive. “bucky? i’m so fucking stupid. bucky barnes. james barnes. the- the winter soldier?”

bucky flinched, steeling himself for the inevitable. you sounded so afraid, tripping over your words as you tried to say his name. the secret was out now, and he’d have to stop coming to your bookshop—no longer could he tease you, or buy books he didn’t really need, or spend all his spare cash, or help you dust the shelves, or add to his collection of your bookmarks, or-

“bucky, i can’t believe you didn’t tell me, you little sneak!” you ran up to him and slapped his arm playfully. you tugged at your hair. “i’m so blind, aren’t i? you’re wearing a jacket in the summertime. your name is literally barnes. you told me you lived in a fucking compound on the outskirts of new york and i was so caught up in your pretty face to even-”

you slapped your hand over your mouth, eyes widening enough to rival bucky’s own wide eyed stare.

“uh, wanda! you wanted a book?” you rushed over to her side, grabbing her hand and tugging her deeper into the shelves as wanda snuck a look back at bucky, whose face was buried in his hands as he leaned against the counter.

wanda ended up buying 1984. you were a fidgety mess as you checked her out, tucking another one of your bookmarks between the pages. you and bucky didn’t look at each other once. well, that was a lie. your eyes were burning holes into the first edition paperback while bucky snuck glances at the side of your face, watching your concentrated brows and small huff at the sticky keys of the register with a stupid, infatuated smile on his face. wanda elbowed him hard.

“what was that for?” he hissed, lowering his voice and hoping you couldn’t hear him. wanda rolled her eyes.

“thank you so much,” she simpered as you handed her the book with a polite smile. “you know, you’ve done so much for us. bucky’s never been big on reading before,” wanda patted the super soldier’s arm. your eyebrows raised as if to say, oh really?

“hard to believe, right?” she laughed. “he comes here so much i could be fooled. anyways, i was thinking you should come and celebrate steve’s birthday with us! it’s the fourth of july, which is cliché, i know, but if you don’t have any plans you’d be more than welcome! we’d all love to meet the woman that’s gotten bucky all intellectual recently. your books have more of an impact around the compound than you think.”

you looked terrified. “i- what? the compound, as in the avengers compound? wait, captain america’s birthday? a birthday party? you want me to come to america’s party for his birthday?” you gasped, blinking furiously to try and comprehend the insanity of it all.

wanda giggled. “yes! you’re so cute; i can see why bucky likes you so much.” once again, you and bucky blushed and looked at the floor. wanda either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“i mean, i’ll have to- i might have to work but- yes! i’d love to, i just have to check with the owner, uh, thank you? for inviting me to your party? um, are there going to be avengers there?”

wanda shook her head, enamored by your antics. “yes, there will definitely be avengers there. it’ll probably just be the team and their families, but you can be bucky’s plus one. here, let me write down the details for you!”

you slid wanda a piece of scrap paper silently, subtly pinching yourself to check if you were dreaming. you were not.

“here ‘ya go! bucky and i can’t wait to see you there!” she chirped before dragging a dazed bucky out of the store and leaving you breathless. bucky can’t wait to see me there.

“stop being such a sourpuss, bucky.” wanda complained, smacking his arm with a trail of red energy.

“yeah, bucky. if your girlfriend is half as obsessed with you as you are for her, she’ll show up here with a trumpet fanfare and a horse-drawn carriage. you’re down bad, my man, and it’s getting kinda sad.” sam had his arms crossed in front of bucky, who had decided to tag team with natasha to bully bucky all day.

“it’s steve’s birthday, can we just… ugh,” bucky groaned, tugging at his hair. “i don’t even care if she comes or not. it’s not a big deal. i’ve only seen her like, five times. i’m just a customer. so it doesn’t even matter.”

natasha rolled her eyes. “i’m this close,” she demonstrated with her fingers pinched together, “to beating the stupidity out of you, buchanan.” bucky glared at her.

“can you not-”

“shut the fuck up, idiot,” sam interrupted.

natasha elbowed him “okay, the goal is to piss him off, not rip his fragile, lovesick heart into shreds,” she chastised. bucky pursed his lips in frustration and took a deep, calming breath.

“i am going to remove myself from the situation,” he spoke mostly to himself, closing his eyes and remembering with dr. raynor had taught him. as much as he hated his shrink, he had to admit, therapy was coming in handy when it came to dealing with his asshole teammates. de-escalate, bucky. remove yourself from the aggressive environment. good job, bucky. deep, calming breaths. imagine you’re on a quiet beach…

“bucky!” the sound of your honeyed call broke his trance. his heart raced once more. well, shit. that ruined the whole meditative process. but it was worth it if it meant he got to hear his name roll off your tongue, all sugary and pure.

natasha and sam smirked at each other as you ran over to bucky with a gift in hand and bucky took speedy steps over to you with his long legs. he wrapped you into his arms and you squealed as your feet left the ground as you returned his hug with just as much passion.

“hi!” you whispered as you caught your breath, smiling up at him with such joy that he thought he might melt under your gaze before he’d even get a chance to wish steve a happy birthday.

“so you’re the girl that’s turned that frown upside down?” sam joked, taking your hand delicately and planting a charming kiss on the back of it. you laughed breathlessly, unaware of bucky’s pointed look at the back of sam’s head. it didn’t slip natasha’s perceptive gaze, however, and she took note of it.

“i’m natasha,” the spy shook her hand and raised her eyebrows approvingly at your firm handshake. you introduced yourself eagerly. “wow, you’re the black window! i- wow. i love you so much. my coworker and i are such big fans,” you raved, fanning yourself with your hands.

natasha chuckled, taking your hand in hers and lowering it for you. “well, i’m a big fan of you too.” you looked like you were going to pass out. “it’s an honor to meet the woman who’s turned the most petulant, ancient asshole into a cutesy, sappy little boy.”

you gasped dramatically, eyes jumping up to bucky. “bucky’s not an asshole! or a little boy, for that matter. he’s a cultured reader and classics aficionado. one of my best customers, actually,” you said proudly. natasha and sam looked at each other once more, but you and bucky were too immersed in each other’s smiles to notice their smug looks.

“wait, can you fly?” you whipped your head around to sam. “you’re the falcon! of couse you can fly! sam—can i call you sam?—can you take me flying?”

sam opened his mouth presumably to say yes, as he would take any excuse to zip around the compound and annoy his team, but bucky cut him off.

“nope, we’re not doing that. don’t do that, doll,” he looked down at you. you smiled, confused, at the pet name that slipped out of his mouth. “there’s a 70% chance that sam will kill you and a 10% chance that he’ll land roughly and you’ll both fall, and you look too beau- nice for grass stains. plus i’d really like to spend at least a couple hours with you outside of your work before you die.”

you gaped at him, not sure whether to interpret this as him making jabs at sam or him trying to flirt with you. maybe it was both. you were too stunned to analyze any of it anyway.

“buck? hey, you brought your friend!” steve jogged over eagerly with a glint in his eye that bucky did not like one bit.

“i- oh my gosh- hello? i’m sorry, it’s just that you’re capitan america and that’s pretty cool and stuff and bucky and wanda got books from my store—oh shit, did i just ruin the surprise?” you gasped.

bucky was prepared for steve to scold you for your language, but instead, he burst into a full-bellied laugh that neither of you were expecting. “i may be turning 105, but i’m not blind yet! we can never usually get bucky to talk, but ever since he got wanda her book, it’s all been ‘this girl at the bookstore,’ and ‘did you know that she paints?’ and ‘i wonder what her work schedule’s like because i never see her outside of the store,” steve ranted.

“it’s kind of really annoying, actually,” tony piped in, sauntering over with a half-eaten chocolate covered strawberry in hand. “the gramp won’t shut up about you. it’s nice to know that your favorite vegetable is cauliflower and that you’ve promised to take the tinman to a vegan restaurant. y’know, he hates vegetables. he’s practically a carnivore.”

tony pushed his sunglasses down to give bucky a judging look unobstructed. normally, bucky would’ve retaliated, but all he could do was blush. (from the heat of the sun, obviously. he did forget to put on sunscreen today.)

you looked up at bucky, taking his metal hand and shaking it without hesitation. your fearlessness surprised him—not only had you touched his prosthetic so nonchalantly, but you hadn’t run away screaming after hearing all the embarrassing things his teammates had divulged within the first half hour of your arrival.

“bucky, is it all true?” you teased, licking your lips and tilting your head ever so slightly. bucky knew it was because you were questioning him, but all he could think about was how you were perfectly positioned for him to kiss; all he needed to do was bend down a bit and maybe then he could finally see if you tasted as homely as your books smelled or if you had just eaten cauliflower—somehow, the idea of vegetable breath was appealing if it was on you.

“bucky? you still here?” you poked him in the stomach, which didn’t do much seeing as he was a buff avenger with enhanced strength. he blinked himself into the present.

“yeah, yeah! sorry, uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck, a habit you’d come to recognize as something he did when he was uncomfortable.

“hey, are you okay?” immediately, the interrogation you were planning on giving him disappeared from your lips and was replaced with eyes of concern. you placed your other hand on top of his metal one and tugged on it to catch his attention. “bucky, c’mon. let’s go somewhere quieter.”

you weren’t really sure had no clue where you were going, but once the bubbling of voices from the party began to fade, you stopped and turned to face him fully. his flesh hand, which had continued to run across his face, paused and slowly sank to his side as you watched him solemnly.

“i know that friends sometimes push things to far,” you laughed quietly, eyes darting to the ground, “and it can hurt a little bit. and sometimes for me it’s hard to tell them that i’m hurt.” you looked back up at him, but his face was expressionless.

you sighed. “i guess you’re right; we don’t know each other that well apart from our interactions at the store. but… if what your friends were saying were true, i’d- well, i’d like to know you better. outside the store, i mean.” your eyes darted between bucky’s intense, blue stare. your gaze never left his, even as he swallowed hard and refused to let any emotion cross his face. by the bob of his adam’s apple, though, you could tell that he was affected somehow.

“i wasn’t joking when i said i’d take you to that restaurant, you know. ‘cuz i really like you and i don’t understand you and your reading choices but i’d really like to because… you intrigue me. i don’t care if your team thinks you’re broody or whatever, ‘cuz i think you’re enigmatic and thoughtful.”

you dropped his hands. “ha, sorry. i don’t wanna push it; i know you’re probably really overwhelmed right now, it being your friend’s birthday and hosting a stranger and all your friends probably made you really uncomfortable just now so i don’t want to add to your stress-”

“can i kiss you?” bucky murmmured, the tiniest bit of nervousness flashing across his eyes as he pursed his lips in anticipation for your answer.

you needed no words. instead, you raised your arms and jumped, flinging them around his neck and bucky was quick to understand. he caught you, holding you up by your thighs and being careful to keep things respectful (he was a 40s gentleman, after all). bucky’s eyebrows furrowed as his lips met yours cautiously. god, he’d been dreaming about this for so long, and it always felt a bit vouyeristic knowing that you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. how wrong he was about that.

you hadn’t expected bucky’s lips to be so soft and you adored it when you leaned into the kiss. your noses brushed and your hands, after fidgeting with themselves for a bit, climbed up his neck and into his hair, where you tangled your fingers in his locks and gently rubbed over his scalp. he groaned, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss.

you had to break off, though, as you were not nearly as capable of holding your breath as long as a super soldier was. you were reluctant to do so, of course, and you pulled away just as much as necessary, making sure to remain as close to him as possible. your foreheads and noses were still touching as your lips remained just an few inches away where you were trying to catch your breath. your eyes were closed blissfully, and bucky dared to flutter his open.

there you were, the subject of all of his daydreams in the past few months, so close to him. he could feel your warm breath on his face. when you leaned in to kiss him again, you did so with even more fervor. you gasped into his mouth so wonderfully that he stumbled backwards a couple steps, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip so that your mouth would stay open and he could continue kissing you even deeper.

“bucky,” you whispered hoarsely as you pulled away for a second time. “bucky, i-”

“keep it in your pants, barnes!” tony’s voice bellowed from the party, and bucky burned red. you wiggled a bit in his hold and he took it as a sign to set you back on the ground. once you were standing, you shook your hands fiercely, letting out all the tension.

“wow,” you breathed, a satisfied, wonderstruck smile blooming on the lips buky had just kissed.

“wow is pretty accurate,” bucky agreed equally as breathless.

when you two captured each other’s eyes again, bucky reached down to cup your jaw and run his thumb over your cheek.

“you’re so beautiful, you know that?” he muttered, smiling fondly as you leaned into his touch and covered your hand with his own.

“i could say the same about you.” you turned your head so that your lips were in the palm of your hand and pressed a chaste kiss to his skin. he was glad he hadn’t reached out with his metal hand. he didn’t want to miss out on feeling every kiss you blessed him with.

“we should go back.” you watched as clint’s kids and tony’s daughter began pleading to cut the cake whilst steve insisted that they wait for the two of you to return.

“we should,” bucky nodded.

neither of you spoke or made any effort to move. instead, you stood on your toes to press one final kiss to the corner of bucky’s mouth and whispered “you don’t even have my phone number.”

he laughed. “doesn’t matter. i’ll just come bother you at the bookstore.”

you bit your lip to stop the beam that was sure to explode across your face and agitate your sore cheeks, so you tilted your head towards the party.

“we should definitely go back. the cake, and stuff. and maybe if i decide that i really like you, i’ll give you my number at the end of the party. so don’t get too comfortable.”

“it’s a deal, doll.”

you were perched on one of bucky’s thighs, horizontal to his chest, as the two of you dug into new reads. just like steve, bucky had decided to catch up on the classics (mostly because it meant he could watch your face light up as you chattered on about your favorites and what they meant and tried to convince him to read them, even though he knew he’d read anything you gave him anyway). thus began your sunday ritual of domesticity. bucky knew sunday was your only day off, so the first sunday after steve’s birthday, he had planned to make the most of it.

he took the train to brooklyn (he loved liked you even more for that) and picked you up at 10. he’d brought you to one of the coffee shops that’d been running since the 40s, which you doted on; “it’s so classic! i love mrs. basque—she gets me, you know? hates the gentrification too; she’s so progressive.” he teased you when he found out you (used to) hate “old people.”

“what a change of heart, huh? first your boss wins you over, then you fall for an 106 year old, and now you seem to like mrs. basque more than me.”

“well, if you keep making fun of me, maybe i will start liking mrs. basque more than you.”

bucky had dropped to his knees right outside of the store, begging you to forgive him as the two of you struggled to hold in obnoxiously loud laughs for the sakes of the people around you.

bucky had taken you up to the compound and cooked you a plant based meal and even ate it himself, which was when you realized how deeply you felt for him. he showed you wanda’s garden, helped you safely fly with sam, and then brought you to see steve’s book collection. but the best thing he’d done was present you with a book. it was a limited edition copy of herland, the book you’d been raving about ever since you’d convinced bucky to read the yellow wallpaper. he’d devoured your collection of feminist literature soon after and you fell a little more.

and now, curled up against the chest of the man you loved adored, you were struck by your second revelation of just how far you’d fallen. you watched as his blue eyes, almost as blindingly bright as his smile, danced across the pages of the newest novel you’d given to him. you watched as the sunlight streaming from the window made his eyelashes glow golden, and how his fingers tapped on the cover of the book absentmindedly. you knew he truly cared about the book when he let you be mesmerized by him instead of looking away, embarrassed. and he knew you truly cared about him when he took the time to read through your little annotations and add some of his own.

you shifted, wrapping your arms around his broad chest and nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. he hummed contetedly, using two fingers to hold the book open so that he could free up one of his hands to rub your back with.

from within the blanket of security his body provided you, you allowed yourself to confront your feelings. he’d confessed to you two weeks ago that the only reason he’d kept coming back for books was because he wanted to see you again. technically, he had a “reason” to, but he was the one coming up with them. the book on Hun empire archery was for clint, who didn’t really want the book in the first place, and when he came back the third time, he did so with the intention to ask you on a date. when he chickened out, he thought that’d be the last time he’d see you. instead, he ended up buying two more books—not because he was particularly interested in the classics, but because he’d asked you for your recommendations and you had said don quixote. he picked up alice in wonderland mainly as a joke, but ended up reading it (and loving it) just because it was you who sold him the book.

and then you learned he’d been keeping each one of your bookmarks, treasuring them as if they truly were picasso-level art, and you’d planted the biggest kiss on his cheek. and then you’d learned he never learned how to cook and taught himself just so he could make food for you, and you threw yourself into his arms. and then you had met alpine, and discovered that bucky would read aloud to his cat every night.

and then—well, just now, you cursed yourself out in your head. holy fucking shit i’m such a dumbass, aren’t i? i’m in love with this man. i’m in love with bucky. i. love. bucky.

you didn’t even hesitate when you lifted your head from his shoulder and pecked his cheek to catch his attention. when he closed his book, making sure your bookmark was properly secured before closing it, your breath was shaky.

“i love you, bucky. i’m so in love with you it’s stupid. i love you.”

bucky was silent for just a second before pulling you into the tightest hug. “i love you too,” he whispered into your hair, voice wet with emotion. “i’ve loved you for so long,” he confessed, pulling away and keeping his hands on your shoulders as if he wanted to be assured that you’d never leave.

“i hated everything you loved, at first. reading. vegetables. being so happy, all the time. but you made me love it all. and i must be the biggest fool for taking so long to figure this out, but the reason i’ve changed isn’t because i’ve learned to love all those things. it’s because i learned to love you. and i’d stop eating beef for you, sweetheard. i’d eat cauliflower burgers for the rest of my life if it means i get to love you.”

you backhanded his cheek softly. “you stupid, stupid boy,” you sniffed. “i hate you. god, i hate that you do this to me.” you were blinking back tears. “you’re making me fucking cry. i hate the power you have over me.” you didn’t. the both of you knew that you didn’t.

leaning in, you pressed your lips to his. it was a shitty kiss where your big smiles stopped you from actually doing much kissing, but the “shittiness” of it all was what made it charming. and no amount of bad customer service of ineffective advertisting could convince you or bucky otherwise.

＊✿❀　❀✿＊

main masterlist

taglist: (comment to be added!)

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky and reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x librarian! reader #librarian au #bookstore au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff

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donotexterminateupgradepudding · 2 years

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Black Sails - Captain Flint’s reading list.

Books are a key point of the storytelling in the first two seasons of Black Sails. They help to reveal various aspects of characters and their relationships. Being the nerd that I am, I decided to create a reading list based on Captain James Flint’s key books.

Not only did I bother to compile this short list, but I’m actually reading the books in the list.

The list in sort of the order that they are introduced to the viewer.

De Jure Belli Ad Pace - tr. On the Law of War and Peace by Hugo Grotius. Published in 1625. This is the first book Silver sees in Flint’s cabin. Grotius was a well rounded Dutch intellectual who contributed to many fields but this piece in particular laid down a clear framework for [western] international law. It is pretty easy to find used copies of this but it is split it up into three books and annoyingly not all online booksellers label it well.

Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes. Published in 1651. One of the two books on Flint’s desk that are partially illuminated by the lantern. Important modern philosopher, interesting spelling inconsistencies (dude, decide if you want to say ‘we’ or ‘wee’) and clearly doesn’t have a great opinion on humanity but has great random quotes. Like ‘of accidents of bread in cheese’. However, holy crap, if you think what James struggles with in regard to war/civilization/pardons/human nature. Yeah - spot on for Flint’s excellent character.

Free as an ebook or easy to find used copies or new.

The Republic by Plato(n). ~375 BC. This is the book underneath Leviathan and took me way more time to figure out than I’d like to admit. Mainly, I could only make out the letters of ‘ton - he - public’ for each line on the spine of the book with the crappy lighting and not enough time from the camera shot to get a better look. I wondered if the public was part of something else but thrown off by the ton in the author name until I figured out that Plato went by Platon and then I knew it had to be a translation of The Republic.

Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. Published 167. By one of the most famous Roman stoics and Emperors. James’ most precious book due to who gave it to him and how it likely helped him try to take perspective in situations.

It is easy to find free ebooks, though I’m reading one of the older English language translations to be closer to 1715. Overall, a very enjoyable read. I may seek out one of the newer translations. La Galatea by Miguel de Cervantes. 1585 tr by Gordon Willoughby James Gyll in 1867. This is the only English version I can find and describes it as a ‘pastoral romance’. Miranda gave James the original version of Don Quixote to read and this book is his way to apologize to her when he left Nassau angry at her. It takes some digging around to find the English version of this - Spanish copies are much more numerous and I couldn’t find an English ebook.

I’m not including Don Quixote b/c I just can’t seem to read that book. All my previous attempts have failed so I’m not going to use it to understand Thomas Hamilton. I also don’t know which Middleton play James gave to Miranda - he just said, “Middleton, I thought you’d like it.” and then smiled all proud of himself while bandaged drinking tea.

So there you have it. Captain Flint’s season 1 and 2 reading list.

#Black Sails #black sails meta #black sails captain flint #james flint #james mcgraw #black sails books #flint's books #hugo grotius #thomas hobbes #marcus aurelius #plato #miguel de cervantes

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this-is-a-dystopian-parable · 1 year

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Played Man of La Mancha in the wood shop the other day and when people were jokingly commenting that I do listen to popular shows sometimes I said it's because I think Man of La Mancha is still relevant in the way we often immediately mock and discredit people with mental illness, PTSD, schizophrenic disorders etc. And I'm condescendingly told by the set designer "well you know the book was parody. You're not supposed to think he's great. The author actually got upset at people because everyone was misreading it-" no I DON'T think Don Quixote is great. I KNOW we're supposed to laugh at him. But Man of La Mancha specifically also wants us to feel bad for doing so. It wants you to empathize with Cervantes and Quijana for creating fantasies and disassociation to escape reality. Why else include lines like "And maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it ought to be."? Are we not supposed to empathize? Are we creators of theater not in the very profession of fantasy and disassociation??? You'd rather align yourself with the clear antagonist of the show than imagine I could see more in a disabled coded character than a punching bag to laugh at.

#man of la mancha #sorry for a bit of a rant #not malloysicals

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leet911 · 1 year

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If I Left

A tiny sliver of moon travels the night sky beyond Beatrice’s window. She watches its journey across the backdrop of stars and she thinks about Ava. “Go live your life”, Ava had said. “Be free.”

But Beatrice doesn’t feel free. Because the building may have changed, but she’s still here – in this place called the Cat’s Cradle – and she’s still waiting. And the walls may be different, the Sister Warriors may be new, but Beatrice is just going through the motions. Pray. Train. Prepare. That hasn’t changed. But without Ava nearby, without a clear adversary, it all seems so meaningless now.

So when the new recruits ask her for guidance, she speaks platitudes and quotes bible verses at them. When they ask her for lessons, she doesn’t hold back on the sparring mats. But every morning Sister Beatrice walks the Hall of Martyrs and stands before the Cruciform Sword. The divinium blade rests inside a glass case, waiting for its wielder to return.

Beatrice too, waits for its wielder. And every time, her eyes narrow, searching for the telltale glow from the blade. Under her habit she wears the cross that once belonged to Sister Yasmine, the cross embedded with divinium so it glowed near the Warrior Nun. “You should have this,” Sister Yasmine had said, and Beatrice had accepted with a nod. They did not speak about why, though they both knew the reasons.

[Continued below, or on AO3]

So now Beatrice has new rituals. She goes to see the Cruciform Sword on display every morning, looking for a sign. When none comes, she trains the others, and waits. And on the outside, Sister Beatrice seems as patient as ever. She works the recruits hard, with a hand that’s kind but firm, her patience learned through her own experience, and those quixotic months she spent with Ava. She prays with the recruits, sharing wisdom and insight. Sister Beatrice appears as the model Sister Warrior.

But when she’s alone, when it’s just Beatrice in the dark, she holds the divinium pendant in her hand and her whispers are not for God. They’re for Ava. “I miss you so much.”

The night does not answer. The stars above twinkle in impassive silence while the moon continues its trek.

She watches for hours, until the crescent nears the horizon. When the divinium around her neck begins to glow, emitting a low hum, Beatrice doesn't believe it. She clutches the cross, turns towards the door with her heart in her throat. And there’s no knocking, no rattling, just the whine of the Halo as Ava phases right into the room. “Bea.”

And Beatrice runs, her heart stuttering, her lungs fighting to take in air. Ava is back.

Ava is back.

Her hair is longer, and her clothes are different, but she’s here.

She’s whole.

She’s saying Beatrice’s name. “Bea.”

And she’s looking at Beatrice like that night in the bar that Beatrice remembers all too well. She’s looking at Beatrice like there’s nothing else in the world worth looking at, and Beatrice is wishing the night would never end.

It’s only a few steps to close the distance, and Beatrice pulls her into a hug. They fit, as though their bodies remember this, chins tucked into shoulders, arms encircling, breaths shaking. The Halo pulses warm under Beatrice's hands. Beatrice’s heart hasn’t stopped pounding. Ava laughs and cries and smiles, and she feels right against Beatrice. She smells of wilderness and sunlight and regret.

And they weep.

“Ava,” Beatrice whispers in awe, “tell me this is real, that this isn’t a dream.”

“I’m here, Bea. It’s me.” Ava’s lips brush against her cheek, gentle. There are fingers that follow, the backs of knuckles lingering on Beatrice’s jaw. And that’s all it takes before Beatrice reaches for Ava’s face, cups both her hands on it so she can kiss Ava properly.

This time the world doesn't hang in the balance, there isn't anything they need to rush off to do. There's no evil to fight, no demon, no mission. This time, when they kiss, it's like homecoming, like rebirth, like devotion and vows and promises.

And when they finally break for air, Beatrice clings to Ava, refusing to let go. "Are you all right?"

"Never better."

Beatrice has so many questions, so many other things to ask. "How—"

But Ava stops her, brushes away tears and blinks at her in the moonlight. "No one knows I'm here. I phased through the walls to find you. I wanted to see you. I had to see you."

And Beatrice has never wanted to be seen more than this. “Ava—” She tries once more, but again gets cut off.

“If I left,” Ava starts, louder than she intended perhaps. But then her voice wavers, drops down to whisper. Her eyes dart to the side, and the words are so soft they cut right through Beatrice. “If I left, would you come with me?”

Beatrice shivers. She remembers sunsets and mountains, Ava bathed in yellow in light. There’s something about Ava and yellow light, the colour of warmth, of the sun — the colour of the Halo. Beatrice remembers the bar, and the cramped apartment they kept. She remembers the floor plan she asked Ava to memorize, which windows were safest to jump through if it came to that, which drawer in the kitchen held the proper knives. But mostly Beatrice remembers shared smiles, lingering touches, almost kisses, the single bedroom and its lone bed. She remembers morning light on Ava’s face, waking with their limbs tangled, Ava snoring lightly beside her. And Beatrice remembers praying (praying) that they could stay there forever.

Beatrice remembers all of these things in an instant, and she answers immediately this time, before Ava can finish. "Yes," Beatrice says, "I'll go with you. Wherever you want."

Ava’s smile is miraculous, breathtaking, and Beatrice feels dizzy. Because she remembers this smile. And now that the world is not falling apart around them, Beatrice feels silly for ever having doubted. “I love you, Ava. I love you so much.” And the words are not scary, they are necessary.

Ava’s fingers trace an eyebrow, circle around the outside of the eye, dance lightly down the cheek to settle under Beatrice’s lips. “I know,” Ava whispers. “I always knew.”

"I never told you."

Ava leans close, their noses touching, mouths just a breath apart. "You didn't have to."

But Beatrice knows that’s not true. Because Ava deserves to know she’s loved. Ava. Not the Warrior Nun, or the Halo-Bearer, but Ava. Only Ava.

So Beatrice moves first this time, closes the gap between their lips. This time, it’s not urgent, it’s hesitant, quiet, chaste, timeless. She kisses Ava slowly, again and again, barely touching but always coming back. In the night, the only sounds are the panting of their breath, the sniffling of their tears, and their kisses in the dark.

“I just want to love you,” Beatrice says, and Ava shudders.

This is worship.

#warrior nun #avatrice #fanfiction #i scream i cry i yearn #i write gay little fanfiction

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saturnville · 2 years

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bibliophiles

pairing: ez reyes x black!oc

warning: none

He recommended Don Quixote. Never had she expected a broody and seemingly dark biker to be overly invested in literature—sixteenth century literature at that.

He remembered the confusion on her face when she flipped through the first few pages and saw it was the original version written in Spanish. Her eyes had pleaded with him to give her another suggestion, but he reiterated her desire to learn his native tongue and said it’s be a good challenge.

She finished the book in two weeks—an unusual length of time for her to finish a book—and gave a full report to him when they saw one another again in his father’s shop.

“You liked it?” he asked her, a half smile pulling at his lips.

She nodded and pushed her glasses further upon her nose. “Yes, it was good. Challenging, but good. I had a dictionary pulled up next to me every time I read it.”

He chuckled. “Dedication. I like it.” She responded with a sly smile. “Since you gave me such a challenge, I can only offer the same in return, Ezekiel.”

His stomach tingled, he loved the way she said his name. EZ ignored the looks from his father and older brother as he finally broke and took a seat by the old, rickety bookshelf where his childhood imagination was first introduced. He raised an eyebrow and leaned forward on his elbows.

“What do you have, Indra?”

The woman dug into a familiar navy blue shoulder bag and pulled out a book as large as his head. Intrigued, he leaned forward more. “What’s this?”

“Beowulf. The original version from between the eighth and eleventh century first book recorded in the English language. Old English.”

“Ah,” EZ hissed, picking up the book. Indra watched as he clutched the book in his hands, flicking through some of the pages. He rose his eyebrows in amusement. “A challenge indeed. You gonna give me a time limit, too?”

“Three weeks max.” Indra stood from her seat, prepared to exit.

“Not so fast...” he dug into the side of his cut, pulling out another book. “Macbeth.” She examined the book closely. The cover was in tact, the spine was sturdy, and the pages were as crisp as new dollar bills. He bought it, she concluded. She bought it just for her. “Little birdie told me it was your favorite.” He hoped she hadn’t caught him glancing at his father.

Indra thanked him wholeheartedly. The gesture was simple yet so sweet, it made her insides flutter. Their exchange had gone on for going on two months and she couldn’t get enough of it. Often times, she found herself finishing her novels early and coming into the store just to have a reason to look into his hazel eyes or slide her fingers against his.

“No problem.”

“See you in a few weeks,” Indra bid her farewell, but was soon interrupted by EZ’s hand around her arm. “Yes?”

“Can I,” he cleared his throat. “Can I take you out sometime? Don’t want to have to keep waiting for a literature exchange to see you...”

Indra tucked the book further underneath her arm and readjusted her glasses. Here she was, about to dive into Macbeth for the umpteenth time, only to be caught off guard by him asking her on a...date?

“Like a date?”

His face flushed as he nodded slowly. Her uncertainty made his insides twist.

“Yeah, if you’re okay with it.“

“Of course I am.” She cursed herself for speaking so quickly. EZ chuckled softly. “I mean, that sounds nice.”

His beautiful eyes met hers and she fought the urge to grin like a fool. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, yeah?”

She didn’t trust her ability to utter words so she nodded slowly with a wide smile on her lips.

EZ turned on his heels and tossed a smile over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow, querida.”

“Bye, Ezekiel…”

#ezekiel reyes x oc #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes imagine #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes #ez reyes x black!reader #ez reyes x black reader #mayans fx #fx mayans mc #mayans x reader #mayans imagine #mayans mc #black!oc #angel reyes x black reader

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theaufanartist · 2 years

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“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯?”𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴, 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦,

“𝘐 𝘥𝘰,”𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯, “𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵.”

“𝘈𝘢𝘩,”𝘔𝘪𝘯 𝘎𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴, “𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦?”

“𝘜𝘮, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰,”𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, “𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.”

“𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴,”𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘭𝘺𝘭𝘺, “𝘣𝘶𝘵, 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵.”

Song Min Gi💖

“How was your presentation on Don Quixote?”your bestie asks you, as you make your way out of the class. You sigh, looking at the notes in your hand.

“It could have gone better I think,”you say, making her snort, “what?”

“Seriously? Better? Bitch, your presentations are the top class! What the hell!”

You simply scoff at her, flipping the pages of your notebook, her sipping on the coffee she had with her. She suddenly pinches your arm, making you squeal, looking at her.

“What?”

“135 degrees, your hottie standing next to mine,”she says, making you look around. She sighs, slapping her forehead, “your math is still bad as it was, five years ago,”she says, getting hold of your chin, and turning it in the direction she was pointing at, verbally. You stand there in awe, watching your muse talking to Yun Ho and Jong Ho, smiling like the smiley boy he was. His gaze fell on you and he waved a bit, making your eyes widen, but you managed to keep your composure and wave him back.

“Gosh, y’all are so awkward,”the girl next to you says, making you roll your eyes at her. You look ahead and see a girl going upto Min Gi with a card, all nervous and shy. You just stand there, looking at how he smiles and keeps it, but says something to her, which makes her run away, making him look at Yun Ho all guilty. You just wonder if you went to him and did the same, would he do the same?

“That’s not gonna happen to you,”you hear your best friend say, before you got lost in overthinking. You look at her and give her a weak smile, before leaving for the library. Min Gi looks at you, waiting for you to turn and give him a smile, but you don’t, making him frown, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Jong Ho, who looks at your best friend and raises his eyebrow in question. She goes to him, pecking his cheek.

“What’s up with her?”

“I don’t know,”she says, one arm wrapped around his waist, “I heard her presentation went well, but she still didn’t look happy.”

Min Gi listens to her intently, wondering what might be bugging you. Being an arts student himself, he knew the pressures of dreaming and creating, and he knew how you were. But, after listening to what your best friend said, he wondered what’s up with you.

You, on the other hand, began overthinking. It was nearly evening and you were standing by the pretty garden your campus had on the other side, but very few people came there; that made it your safe space. You were writing something, when someone cleared their voice from behind you. You jerk backward, nearly toppling the coffee he had in his hand.

“Hey, hey; it’s me,”you hear Min Gi speak, making you sigh. You see two coffee cups in his hand, then look at him. He looks at his hands, then proceeds to hand one over to you, which you accept, visibly grateful. You sip from it, then hum, making him smile at you, looking overhead. But then, something strikes you, and you look at him.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Well,”he begins, staring at the cup in his hand, “I had a hunch.”

You look at him, not buying his bs. He sighs, rolling his eyes at you, “Jong’s girl told me,”he says, making you scoff playfully at him. He takes a look at your doodles, and the lines you’ve written near them.

“I love the poems you write,”he says, trying to contain his inner crush on you, “they’re…beautiful.”

You look at the notes open, scrambling to get them together to prevent him from reading more about him, giving him a hasty smile. He sees that and smiles, drinking his coffee. The thing was, Min Gi always liked you, and always wanted to approach you, but wasn’t sure about your feelings for him.

Till today.

“𝘈𝘢𝘩,”𝘔𝘪𝘯 𝘎𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴, “𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦?”

This makes you look at him in visible confusion.

“What do you mean by ‘a hunch’?”

“I may or may not have heard your best friend talking to her boyfriend,”he says, making you choke on your coffee. Min Gi panics, as he places his coffee on the railing and proceeds to slowly tap your back, rubbing it slowly to ease you.

“What did you hear?”

“That my feelings are reciprocated?”

“What feelings?”

He looks at you and smiles shyly. He cups your face making you close your eyes on feeling the warmth emanating from them, and strokes his thumb against your cheek, sighing.

“I like you,”he whispers, making you open your eyes in surprise. Your reaction almost makes him break his character, but nonetheless tries to maintain it to not make it seem like a joke, “I liked you ever since I first saw you with Jong’s girl. I love how you care for someone so easily, but hate it when something affects you so easily. I want to be near you, with you at all times. Will you let me be with you?”

You couldn’t believe it. Was it even real? Your crush, expressing his feelings for you in a way you always wrote in your poems about love, in your safe space? Really?

“Huh? What?”

“You zoned out there for a while,”he laughs softly, making you giggle, “I asked you out.”

“Oh,”you reply, making him frown, “I just didn’t believe this happening. But, yeah I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Um, not like that,”you try to reason out, “help a girl out, will you?”

He laughs, leaning forward to touch his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. Your eyes close as an involuntary response, sighing softly.

“I wanna take you out on a date tomorrow,”he says, “sounds good?”

“It does,”you smile shyly, “it does sound good.”

“Great,”he says, “lets stay like this for a while; it feels nice.”

You grin wide, making him giggle.

“Were those poems really about me?”he asks, as he tips your chin to look up at him. You pretend to think hard.

“I think, most of them were for Lee Dong Wook,”you say, making him scowl.

“Yah! Those lovey dovey poems for an actor, and not for me?? Hey-Wait! Come baaaack!!”he says, as he begins chasing you, coffee cups long forgotten, just laughter echoing in the safe haven for the both of you.

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