#if u ever wonder if im vague posting about you- of course im fucking not
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the realization that tumblr does not work like twitter and i cant just vague post about random discourse or arguments otherwise people will wrongfully assume its about them has flipped my whole life upside down
#exaggerating obviously but still like i vague post so much#did not realize people thought this#like wdym i cant just vague vent about a random argument i had with friends#because at least one person will probably think im talking about them#especially with a blog dedicated to like a small fandom circle like saiki k#whoops!#i once vaguely posted about how i hate getting called boring for disliking toxic ships-#and i got an anon ask being like 'i feel like that was about me cuz i JUST posted a saiki k toxic ship post'#and i just deleted the ask cuz i was like haha thats dunb ofc it wasnt about anyone on here#why would i subtweet about people on here right on here#and not every one of my posts is about saiki k#not only am i in multiple fandoms but also not every post is even a fandom post#that post was about twitter discourse that was making me mad lmfao#then i slowly realized that thats common actually like people assume that shit a lot#whoopsy daisy#any time i post about fandom discourse too-#ppl always think im talking abt them but im always either talking about a post i didnt want to reply to cuz it was from years ago-#or sometjing i saw on like twitter or pinterest or tiktok#if u ever wonder if im vague posting about you- of course im fucking not#i would lowkey just reply directly tbh#lol this is why i hate when people ask me 'who is this about' cuz idk bitch someone who hasnt been active here for like three years-#or some random user on tiktok!! i dont know!!!#i think i did post directly abt someone here like once ? and it was cuz i was sure that person was like 14-#so i didnt want to reply to them and be all mad#so i posted about it cuz i was like well i see people do that a LOT so whatever#(talking about 'teruhashi ruins my gay ships cuz shes a stupid bitch woman🤓' btw)#even then i didnt rlly consider it like a callout post of them or anything cuz theyre just one person out of hundreds that have done that#sorry these tags are so long lol i just erm.. its kinda funny to me ig idk#meows post
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lavender latte: vi
(T (for now!))
hawks | takami keigo x reader
ao3
chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 7 ||
masterlist
word count: 6.8k
finally. god.
warnings: none really! reader’s foot booted, but that’s about it.
---
well. here we are. thank u to everyone for reading this sweet, sweet story. we’re not through it yet, but i’m happy to offer a meal with this chapter. enjoy lovies. beta’ed by the lovely love @keiqos.
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You had several problems after returning to your apartment from the hospital. One of your coworkers was nice enough to drive you and your things back, but quickly the niceties stopped and your vague hell began.
Exclusively being on crutches sucked. Navigating your apartment and trying to live somewhat normally was a massive pain. Even just showering was a task that sapped most of your energy. Standing one-legged and balancing made your body ache with a deep soreness, especially the first few days you returned.
This was not even to mention the unpleasant dreams you were having.
‘Unpleasant’ & ‘dreams’ were a nice way of putting it.
You could recall that during your first night in the hospital, one of your doctors told you of the possibility of experiencing a few post-traumatic symptoms. Considering how out of it you were at the time, it was unsurprising how you brushed it off.
The reality was much harder to ignore.
...
Cars revving.
Shouting.
Shattering—
Your eyes flashed open, chest heaving and brow covered in a fine sheen of sweat.
Fuck that.
It was the same dream, an obvious recreation of the stimuli of the event. Though it was scattered in your memory, the dreams made it horribly vivid and vibrant despite lacking detail. The sounds and smells of that day clung to you as you shook your head, forcing yourself into wakefulness.
Your comforter was thrown from your body, and you shivered as cold air rushed over you. As jarred as you were, you still swung your legs off the bed, readjusting your boot and your aching leg, half-heartedly glaring at your crutches.
Your apartment wasn’t terribly set up to get around with your limited mobility, but your difficulty functioning didn’t help your overall mental state. Everything was just harder with the boot on, and you did your best to work with it.
Being locked up in your apartment added to the hellishness of it. You were so used to the stimuli and social environment of the teashop, it felt like a cold water shock when you were confined to your home entirely alone except for your cats.
You could, of course, try and venture out into the world. But, it was still winter and the ice-covered sidewalks didn’t seem like the best place to try and crutch around.
Within the first day or two, you resigned yourself to your three-week fate of being holed up.
You had a laundry list of things you could do. Shows and movies to watch, places in your house to clean, your cats to pet, but—
You still had far too much time on your hands.
A lot of your newfound time in the first few days was spent on your back, leg propped up, and draped in ice bags, musing over Hawks.
Hawks.
Holy fuck.
You couldn’t avoid it, couldn’t stop it. Just thinking about him made every part of you swirl and thrum like you were listening to some sort of contently-chorded song and you were more than happy to play it on repeat until your ears bled. Maybe that feeling towards Hawks had always been there (it had), but now you accepted it and stopped holding yourself back as much.
You never thought the idea of someone squeezing your shoulder would send you into literal fits of giggles and butterflies, but boy, did it. Not to mention all of the careful touches and gentle words you two had shared in the aftermath of the attack, though the memories were hazy. What you did remember and cherish was the warmth of him, quirk activated or not. Each time you recalled it, your gut fluttered and your hands twitched.
Your ceiling was the most interesting place to look in your apartment. The plain texture was the perfect canvas to allow your memories of the sweet interactions the two of you had shared to play like comforting reruns. The commercial breaks of these daydreams were the texts exchanged between you and Hawks.
Keigo couldn’t stop thinking about you either.
It wasn’t as distracting as it once was, as he had been more liberal with letting himself text you. The high number of messages between the two of you was maybe ridiculous, but he was a fast texter and you seemed to have plenty of jokes and banter for him to share in.
As good as the texting was, it was also nice to check-in on you and your recovery. You seemed more annoyed than anything else, but Keigo wasn’t so much of an idiot as to think you weren’t in any pain or struggling at all. Though you didn’t explicitly tell him or show him, he was familiar with the pains of healing and could infer some things about your state.
Keigo tried to brighten your day as he could. ‘Hawks’ still had plenty of hero work to do, especially with the information extracted from the recently detained syndicate members. Despite this, he took as much time as he could to stop and send you little snippets and messages which hopefully would help you smile a little.
It did, of course. Just talking to Hawks did.
You had moments of awareness a few times a day where you had to remind yourself that, yes, (Y/N), you were just casual friends and deeply enamored with the number two hero and that sentiment was at least partially returned.
You had a lot of time to wonder to what extent the feelings were returned. They obviously weren’t entirely one-sided, right?
It was completely possible that they were, but you did your best to shake off the thought.
It was more likely that notorious bachelor and flirt, pro hero Hawks, just wanted a fuck with some feelings. To fuck with some feelings, right?
Though, he did say that he cares about you.
But, you definitely can care about someone you only want to fuck.
You wished you had some sort of definitive answer. The murkiness of it all just made the sweetness of the past and the texts of the present seem a bit sour.
Confessing to Hawks was daunting and terrifying. Not to mention, it felt a bit juvenile, all of it. People weren’t supposed to get melty crushes like this past high school, right? Especially not ones this deep on someone who couldn’t possibly feel the same as you, right?
During one of these moments of uncomfortable clarity, your phone beeped as you rested on the couch. Despite not even seeing the message, you knew it would be Hawks.
You grabbed your phone, clicking open the newest message.
[birdboy]: hey hey angel
[birdboy]: look at this fucker i found
The image attached was a photo of Hawks standing next to one of his own billboards, advertising some sort of sports drink. The photo had obviously been taken with a timer, the angle of the photo tilted as Hawks and the billboard were quite small in the frame. It added to the charm of the photo, the way Hawks was holding a feather blade to the throat of his own advert. You could even tell through the pixels he was wearing a wide smile as he did so, wings spread behind him
You snorted.
You and Hawks are just friends, you reminded yourself.
[you]: looks like a punk bitch 2 me dude
[you]: kinda uncanny resemblance tho
[birdboy]: i agree
[birdboy]: he’s hot tho
You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you readjusted on the couch. You weren’t disagreeing, not at all.
[you]: not wrong
[you]: still, punk bitch
[birdboy]: :^(
[birdboy]: feelings = hurt
[birdboy]: please tell me the photo is funny
[birdboy]: it took like five tries
[you]: very funny, im gonna save it and sell when im short on cash
[birdboy]: my publicist will blacklist u
[you]: i’d like to see them try
[birdboy]: is that a challenge angel????
[you]: a promise
There was a break in the messages, though Hawks appeared to be typing.
[birdboy]: unrelated but
[birdboy]: how are you doing?
You paused, taking stock of your disheveled, sleepy self. You were only a few days out of the hospital and you definitely could’ve been worse off.
[you]: im okay!!!
[you]: sore and tired honestly
[birdboy]: :^(
[birdboy]: i'm glad to hear its not worse at least
[birdboy]: ill send u lots more embarrassing photos
[birdboy]: a million angel
[you]: my hero <3
It all was surreal and mentally impossible to avoid.
You really, really liked Hawks and had for a long while.
...
Keigo spent most of the rest of the day busy with patrols and work for the Commission, much to his chagrin. He hardly got a chance to text you. It reminded him of his reality as a pro, his fast-paced nature and how he truly couldn’t slow down, not at that point anyway. He had a brand and habitual way of being that was standard. Even for you, he wasn’t sure if he could slow down, even if he wanted to or needed to.
The idea scared him, pieces of his reality.
But, at the same time, Keigo hadn’t ever felt like this before. The weird, but incredibly alluring and comfortable heat in his chest made him feel like he’d do anything for you. Fuck, he’d fly to the stars and move them if he could, if that’s what it took.
Maybe he even wanted to.
Keigo couldn’t become a different person, for anyone, that’s not how things worked. But if getting closer to you meant... adjusting, he could do that. Easily. He was adaptable as all hell and he’d be glad to use it for something that made him feel good instead of hollow.
Keigo busily flew the day away. As the afternoon turned to night, the sky going pink and purple with dusk, he settled on top of a taller office building. It looked down on a street market, its smells and sounds wafting up to him on his perch.
It gave him an idea.
A good one.
You were inspecting your fridge with a grimace. Balancing on your crutches and being counter-weighed by the boot on your foot made your angry stance a whole lot less intimidating, but it was the sentiment that counted.
Several days post-hospital had done a number on your food supply. The fridge was empty except for a few nearly expired items and condiments. The dry shelves weren’t looking much better.
The shrill sound of your ringtone from the couch made your jump, nearly falling. You teetered back over to it, eye-widening at the caller ID.
[birdboy] calling...
Hawks had never called you before.
You quickly picked up the call, “...Hello?”
“Hey, angel!” Hawks was chipper on the other line. “What’re you up to?”
“Currently?” You hummed, turning forlornly to your kitchen. “Thinking about how I either need to order groceries or order dinner before committing to my couch for the rest of the night. Why? You don’t usually call.”
“I don’t,” Hawks’s smile was apparent in his voice, even through the receiver. “But, I had an idea.”
“Shoot.”
“I might just be near a super good takeout spot. How hard would it be for me to convince you to let me drop some food by your place? My treat.”
You didn’t reply for a second.
Stunned.
“Are you sure?”
“More than, dove. I’m off the rest of the night, anyways.”
Oh.
That gave you an idea—
An idea that would surely push the envelope of your feelings.
Let it.
“Okay, I’m in. One condition.” You bit your lip, willing your stomach to seize fluttering.
“You name it. This place is really good and—”
“I have been going a little stir crazy, and,” You cut him off, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation, “how hard would it be to convince you to come over and stay awhile?”
Hawks was silent.
Your stomach dropped.
“Wait, I-I mean—” You stuttered, trying to gather yourself, but this time Hawks cut you off.
“Like, to hang out?” Hawks sounded shocked on the other line.
“Yes.”
You kept your breathing even and prayed it didn’t read over the call.
“God, dove. I’d love to. I can be over in like ten—”
“Wait,” You fisted the fabric of your sweats. “Can I have a little more time? For myself and my apartment.”
Hawks chuckled on the other end of the line, “Sure, angel. Thirty sound better?”
You let out a sigh of relief, falling on to the back of your couch, “Sounds perfect.”
Keigo decided to tease a bit, his heart pounding in his chest almost painfully. He knew from day one that you were bold, but this was a treat. He had to spare back, just a little.
“Though, dove, I’m sure you look more than perfect yourself. You always do.” He didn’t wait for your response, either out of fear of what you’d say or being a bit smug, he wasn’t sure.
Keigo hung up the call, burying his face in his gloves to try and stifle the blush on his cheeks, though it hardly helped.
It didn’t have to.
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Thirty minutes later and you were mostly sorted.
You managed to throw yourself into the shower, tossing on something half-way decent, but still comfortable. Had to keep it casual.
Crutching around your apartment, you picked up what clutter you could, mind spinning. Hawks coming over to your fucking apartment filled you with elated, and yet terrifying, anxiety. A few times while cleaning, you legitimately paused to muffle quiet screams in your hand at the prospect.
You felt like you were going to burst.
Keigo did too, notably.
He took the time to fly all the way back to his apartment, take the world’s fastest shower, and throw on some clothes other than his costume. Going back to get food, his hands shook as he handed the bills to the starry-eyed vendor who he’d just written an autograph for.
You’d sent a quick text just before he’d left with a description of your balcony, so neither of you would have to figure out how to let him in through the roof.
As he flew to your place, Keigo felt like he was going to implode.
He didn’t ‘hang out’ with people. Nope, far too busy for anything like that. He was a compulsory workaholic, it was part of his mental brand of being (or, mental ‘branding’, maybe). The closest he got to casual time with folks was the preamble before a hookup or the time he had spent at the tea shop with you. Actually going to spend time with someone, casually, and it was you? It was all new and terrifying.
But, above all? Exciting.
The whole situation opened many doors, all of which Keigo pictured and picked apart as he neared your apartment. There were so many potential situations to appraise and plan for, he felt overwhelmed by it all.
The opportunity to spend some... time with you outside of the tea shop was a necessity, right? Keigo’s original idea had been to drop off some food and banter for a while, but the idea of spending one of his precious nights off with you was so much better than he could’ve expected.
Not to mention the warm bit of validation sparked by the fact that you asked him to come over, you wanted him around —
It felt nice.
So nice.
You paused, hearing telltale scuffing of someone on your balcony.
Oh my god.
He’s here.
Hawks is here.
You gulped, shaking your head.
Don’t you dare chicken out now. Commit, dammit. You’re just... hanging out. With your friend.
Yeah.
A knock on the glass pulled you to the door of your balcony, hobbling to slide it open on your crutches.
Hawks was happy to push the door the rest of the way open, stepping inside with a bag of takeout slung on his arm.
Your mouth parched, seeing him once again in civilian clothing. Was it... normal to get turned on by the fact that he looked normal?
As Hawks stepped into your humble apartment, wings tucked tightly to his back, you drank him in, hair ruffled with his clear visor placed on top of his head to push back the windswept front pieces. He wore a white sweater and black trousers complete with heavy black boots that were quickly untied and left by the door.
“You’re staring, you know,” Hawks interrupted your thoughts as you straightened up on your crutches.
Recover.
“Can’t prove that,” You tutted, crutching away from the door. “Also, welcome. Watch out for my cats, they might try to get a mouthful of your feathers.”
“Duly noted,” Hawks clicked his tongue, standing up and following you as you meander to the kitchen.
Keigo had to admit that your apartment was relatively... cute. He was used to his own, seldom-used digs. He had a big, uncomfortably nice penthouse with too many disused rooms and too much open space. Fixtures and furniture that were too expensive, probably, but it had been far easier to hire some big-name interior designer and not bother with dealing with it himself. Keigo had trouble keeping many ‘personal’ possessions, anyways. His training with the Commission made him almost revile the thought of keeping unnecessary, material objects, sans a few.
Your home was the exact opposite.
Maybe it was that he didn’t know how to have a personal touch that it made your cozy little apartment feel so full of them.
Little photos and artworks on walls or in frames caught Keigo’s eyes as he followed you to the kitchen. He took note of several blankets on the couch, catching sight of the plushie he’d given you at the hospital. Even the lighting of the apartment was personal, diffuse. With how easily overstimulated you became, it made sense that you’d keep your apartment so ambiently dim.
“So, first off, thank you for coming by and delivering dinner. I am eternally grateful,” You bowed dramatically, leaning to flail out a crutch at the motion. “Second, as payment, I’ll make you a drink. Maybe not with my quirk, but I have some of my old tea blends here.”
“It’s the least I could do,” Keigo shrugged, setting the takeout down on the counter while his ever-present grin nearly hurt his face from how relentless it was. “And tea? Show me what you’ve got. Or, should I trust you to pick one out for me?”
You hummed, clicking your tongue before moving across the kitchen to a different set of cabinets, “I think I’ve actually got a good one for you. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Lay on the details, angel,” Keigo hummed, leaning against the lip of the counter.
You did have the perfect blend in mind. It wasn’t too old, hardly stale. It would pair as well as a nice tea could with fried takeout, judging by the smells wafting from the bag on the counter.
“It’s one I made for a brunch we catered a few months back. It’s just a white tea raspberry blend, but it’s not delicate. It should stand up to any sort of food you’ve brought. Thank you, by the way.”
Setting your crutches down, you started to push yourself up onto the counter without thinking much of it, booted-foot going limp off the edge.
“Of course, anytime— woah, angel,” His voice choked as you wavered on the edge of the counter, off-balance.
There was a short flap of wings and rush of air as you tried to rebalance, cursing the deadweight of your leg.
If Hawks hadn’t been directly behind you, you probably would’ve eaten shit.
You turned yourself as far as you could, cheeks going hot.
Hawks’ face was just inches away from yours. That was even to mention the hands hovering around your waist, chest brushing up against your back.
“S-sorry,” Did he just fucking stutter? “You looked like you were about to eat shit there.”
The words hardly reach you, you were too busy actively telling yourself not to stare at his pretty, plump lips because that is not something friends do. Not the can of worms you needed to open, right?
“I-,” You turned away from him, stretching up to the tea tin that had been out of your reach. “To think you’ve saved me from falling while reaching for loose leaf tea, twice.”
“All in a day's work,” His hands twitched around your sides but hardly shifted until you began to descend from the countertop. In fact, Hawks hardly moved away at all until you were situated back on your crutches.
You pretended not to notice the flush on his cheeks.
Maybe, it was a bit too close. Definitely too close, and bad circumstances, but god, you wanted more and more of him.
You swallowed your desires down, cracking a smile.
Be normal.
Be cool!
You shook the tin, leaves and dried fruit rattling inside, “So, cream or sugar?”
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The two of you ended up on the couch, picking through the several boxes of takeout that Hawks had brought. Most of dinner was spent bantering back and forth about one of Hawks’ newest modeling contracts and if it was ‘ethical’ for him to wear his own feathers for the sake of ‘fashion’?
“So, off-topic from insulting my employment ethics, ” Hawks spoke while munching on a piece of chicken. “You surviving?”
“Barely,” You laughed, setting down your utensils with a huff. “I forget how isolation makes you go a little crazy. I’m running out of dumb shit to watch and even dumber shit to send you.”
Hawks snorted, setting down his own box, having had his fill, “I know you are more than adept at combing the internet for more good shit to send me.”
“I mean, maybe, but you keep sending me juicy photos of you being a dumbass. They’re hard to show up, you know?” You side-eyed him at the birdish tilt of his head.
“You don’t need to show me up, angel,” Hawks reminded you, some feathers packing up what was left of the food. “Though, it’s fun. You’re fun.”
You internally winced at the sentiment but forced the smile on your face not to waver.
It was a needed reminder.
This close to Hawks, you could fucking smell him. Maybe it was a little creepy, but you remembered it so well, after the villain attack. The scent of some sort of spicy cologne and old sweat, but it was hardly unpleasant. No, it was intoxicating. It made you feel almost fuzzy, as it wafted around like some reminder that Hawks and you were so close.
You thanked the stars that the apartment lacked the stimuli to make your quirk activate on its own.
Your couch wasn’t very large, and it seemed even smaller with how Hawks had laid his wings over it. They were propped up over the back, outstretched just the smallest bit to relieve some pressure. All the same, the massive feathers made you feel minuscule.
Even the way he was sitting was intoxicating and a bit gut-wrenching. It was casual, the way he leaned back against the far cushions, legs somewhat spread with an ankle over the opposite knee. The pose oozed a weird, untouchable confidence that you hadn’t seen in Hawks in months, maybe ever. At least, not directed at you.
Despite the warm nature of his words, he seemed guarded.
It made your throat dry.
Keigo was quite on edge. He hadn’t meant to get so close in the kitchen, really, he hadn’t. But, seeing you dangling off the edge of the counter like that, even if it was harmless and mundane, made his entire body and mind react before he could think.
But, you weren’t in any danger. Even if you had been, Keigo would’ve been there to catch you.
He’d put himself out of it, overthinking the whole thing. You were fine. Safe.
The other part of his mind spun with how he wanted to be so much closer.
Feeling the warmth of your body, the lines of your waist, the thrum of your heart and breath so fucking close—
It was a lot.
But, he was well-trained and not going to choke.
He’d shoved himself to the opposite side of the couch to you, keeping his boundaries up, strong as steel and hard as carbon.
Of course, Keigo knew the feelings were mutual. That didn’t mean that none of this was terrifying in the same way that it was exhilarating.
As much as he wanted to be closer (so much closer), Keigo remained careful. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was ruin something before it had even truly happened.
You sat back against the couch, repositioning your injured leg on the coffee table, “So, thoughts.”
“On?”
You didn’t look at Keigo as you replied, rather glared at your TV, “What to watch?”
“Oh,” You could hear the smile in his voice. “We’re watching something?”
“You tell me. I imagine you don’t get lots of time to do this sort of thing, do you?”
Hawks didn’t reply for a moment, sitting deeper into the couch, “Not really.”
“Then indulge, tailfeathers,” You tossed the remote in his lap. “Anything, go for it. Go nuts.”
Hawks nearly put on watching a reality cooking show, before you said that that was off-limits, per an odd conversation from way back when where he had admitted to be hot for Gordon Ramsey. He had been a little too vague as to whether or not he would pop a boner from Gordon’s filmed degradations. And truthfully, if anything was gonna give Hawks a hard-on tonight, you were determined for it not to be competitive cooking TV. Maybe, just maybe, you’d rather it be you.
...
Eventually, he settled on some psychological thriller you’d never heard of.
Keigo hadn’t either.
He was glad that you couldn’t hear his heart in the same way he heard your’s pounding.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched you crutch around, turning the already dim lights lower.
Calm the down, Hawks.
Calm the fuck down.
He’d never even done this before. Keigo wasn’t sure how to handle the situation, even if it was as simple as watching a film.
It would’ve been simpler if the tension in the air was thick and foggy, clouding over his consciousness as he tried to focus on anything other than your nearness and how much he wanted to drag you into his lap.
…
His feathers fluttered as you plopped back onto the couch, pulling a blanket over your lap and offering one to him.
He took it, settling it over his lap as the movie went on.
You weren’t an idiot. You could feel the blood rushing in your hot ears as you fisted the blanket over your legs.
Your mind spoke a lot louder than you wanted it to:
Just fucking do it.
Do what exactly?
The paramount thought that was causing anxiety to twirl in your gut.
Maybe, you could just tell him how you felt.
Maybe just hold his hand.
Maybe get fucking rejected because he’s out of your league and out of bounds.
Maybe even kiss him—
You were torturing yourself, the movie just background noise to your internal dilemma.
You’d asked him to your apartment and Hawks had bought you fucking dinner. That wasn’t a lot, sure, maybe, but there were also the months of lead-up.
There were all of the cold mornings and cheeky grins you gave each other in the waking coffee shop. There were the fuzzy jokes, the lingering glances, and the tight feeling you got in your chest whenever he graced you with mere eye contact.
It felt like you were already in too deep to not be honest about how you felt towards him. Fuck, you’d been in too deep for months. Every time you made him a damn drink, you wanted to just drink him in. You were all fluttering hearts and sweet smiles for him in a way that you couldn’t suppress, only squash in moments of such intense anxiety like this—
“Hey, dove?” It was Hawks, shocking you from your turmoil with a soft voice. “Are you alright?”
“Y-yeah, I’m good.” Your reply was curt and clipped.
Make a decision now.
Pull the bandage off, (Y/N).
It’ll just be worse, the longer you wait.
Maybe Hawks did just want to fuck with some cute feelings, the seemingly longing looks be damned. Yeah, you liked him way more than for just a fuck, that was obvious and unavoidable. Besides, it’d be better to know than to not know, right?
“You sure? If the movie’s too much, we can turn it off,” Hawks sounded genuinely concerned from the other side of the couch.
...
You committed, taking a deep breath and turning to Hawks.
“It’s not that,” You looked at the couch between the two of you, tracing the seam of the cushion. “The movie’s fine.”
“Then, you’re not feeling great for another reason?” Keigo asked, feeling each of your breaths and heartbeats like bass drums in his ears. He hides the shaking of his hands by crossing them over his chest. “You can talk to me, (Y/N).”
“Can I?” You asked, shaking your head and laughing at yourself. “Hawks, I need to do something really fucking stupid.”
Holy fuck.
Are they—
“What’s that?”
His voice was smaller than he wanted it to be.
“Fuck, Hawks,” You finally forced yourself to look at him, taking in his guarded posture and pained expression.
Your heart sank.
“I just need to be honest with you.”
Hawks’s brow soured, lips twitching, “Go for it, dove.”
You laughed, maybe trying to soothe yourself, “It’s probably is just, so fucking stupid, all things considered.”
You ran a hand through your hair, biting your lip between sentences and willing yourself to just get it out—
“Hawks, I like you. A lot.”
He still didn’t say anything and you could feel shards of your heart drive into your lungs.
You forced yourself to look up at him, smiling with the slight release of tension in your sternum, however painful.
“I know, we’re just friends, right? I’m just the barista and you’re my special, pro hero regular. I know I’m overstepping right now, but it feels unfair for me to not be honest with you.”
Keigo already knew this, right? He knew how you felt, fuck, he’d felt how you felt. He just wasn’t prepared for the exploding and thrumming in his chest when you told him with your sweet lips and kind words.
Why did it feel so different when you were smiling at him like you were in pain and telling him so fucking honestly with your words?
It was the thing about you that he admired the most, that candor in your tone and the grin in your cheeks as you spoke so.
But, your smile was falling, leaving watery-looking eyes.
“Hawks, I like you. Way too much for friends, and I needed to say something.”
Keigo’s mouth was dry.
For the first time in so fucking long, he was genuinely speechless.
He couldn’t recall a time in his life anyone had spoken so earnestly to him, just you. Just you, you, you— casually, over and over again, you talked to him like he was something real and something to be cared for. It was subtle, but it was one of the many things that made him want you closer.
Yet, despite all his bundled up desires, he was lost for words.
“I’m sorry—”
He stopped you, “(Y/N), please don’t apologize.”
“But—”
“(Y/N).”
Hawks’ voice was sharp. It made the expression on your face rapidly fall.
He looked at you with rapt attention, arms uncrossing from his chest.
He turned to you on the couch, feathers fluffed up and twitching.
Your nose stung as Hawks, all pretty golds and ambers, shook out an exhale and balled up the blanket in his lap.
“Hawks—”
“Why would you need to be sorry?”
Hawks looked at you with wide eyes, brow creased. His shoulders were... shaking?
Your head spun, leg aching, “... What do you mean?”
Hawks finally met your gaze, giving you the sweetest, saddest smile you’d ever seen, “Dove, you’re acting like there’s no way I could feel the same way.”
Every cell in your body stuttered.
“You’ve done it since we’ve met.”
Hawks scooted closer on the cushions of the couch.
“You’ve always acted like there’s just no way I could like you, give a shit about you—”
He moved a bit closer.
You couldn’t make yourself move.
“You want to know the truth?”
You creaked out a nod.
Keigo couldn’t help the way he went to cup your cheeks in his hands, thumbs rubbing along the apples of your cheeks. You lean into his touch, just like at the hospital, despite the blend of absolute fear and confusion in your expression.
“How could I not care about you, dove?” And it finally came out. “I care about so much— dove, I don’t know what to fucking say.”
That made you speechless, lips parting just the slightest bit as Hawks continued, losing composure with his morphing expressions.
He wet his lips, swallowing, “Dove, I’ve never—any of this. I-I don’t know what o-or how to say any of what I want to right now.”
You speak before thinking.
“Show me, if you don’t know how to say it.”
The idea seemed so novel as Keigo ran a thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it from between your teeth. He met your gaze with the gooiest, sweetest look you’d ever seen in your life, “You want me to?”
“Please.”
It was all the two of you had wanted for a while now, right?
“If I kiss you, I’m not ever gonna be able to make this go away, am I?” Keigo was speaking to himself, just above his breath. But, you were more than close enough to hear him.
“Hey, Hawks? I don’t know if we can make ‘this’ try to go away.” You grabbed one of the hands cupping your face, pulling it away, only to shakily press in your lips to the bones on the back of it. “I don’t want to anymore.”
“Y-you gotta stop being so sweet, (Y/N)—”
Neither of you could wait a moment longer.
Your arms wrapped around Keigo’s shoulder. In the same motions, he pulled you closer by your waist, dragging you finally closer to him.
He held your jaw like you were the most precious thing in the world. Because, truthfully, you were to him. The sentiment was shared Deeply.
Your lips pressed together and the long-held tensions in your chests mutually shattered, dissolving in the honeyed touch of each other’s genuine attention.
You angled your head perfectly, Keigo’s hand guiding you as his mouth worked against yours. It wasn’t a particularly steamy sort of affair, but by god, it wasn’t in any way chaste. Not with the tight grip and thumbing on your ribs. Not with the way your hands tangled in the soft (holy fuck, soft) hair at the base of Keigo’s skull.
You both tasted each other's sweetness, craving more of it after denying yourselves of it for so long. It was white-hot, exploding behind your eyes, even as your quirk remained dormant. Keigo was honey and cream and smoked spices all dancing across your palette.
To Keigo? You were sweet, cool water over a hot burn. You were the heat of a hearth rolling over him on the coldest of days. He swears that in the first moments he finally got to be close to you, and over and over again— he finally understood how your quirk worked.
There was no way that finally feeling you, feeling you as he felt you, could be described with just five senses.
You pulled away first, gasping for breath and arching your back into him. You lingered as close as you could, pressing your forehead to Keigo’s while your breaths mingled. You didn’t dare stray far.
“Was that enough to show you?” Keigo asked, breathless. He kept a wide hand against your back, urging you with a bit of soft pressure to put your weight into it. You complied, settling in his hold as Keigo stroked at your hot cheeks.
You nodded, beaming up at him with that sunny smile of yours. It never failed to make heat burn through Keigo and god, did it feel good to finally let it unabashed.
“I take it, you like me too, huh,” You smiled, looking a bit embarrassed.
“Very much, very much,” Keigo repeated, pressing a kiss to your nose (he’d always wanted to do that). “So much, (Y/N). I apologize for not saying anything sooner. This is just...”
“New to you, right?” You finished his sentence, thumbing along the back of his neck in a way that made Keigo just melt. “It’s been a while for me too, if it makes you feel better.”
“It does, dove. Thank you.” Keigo let out a deep breath, shaking his head against yours. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”
“It’s alright, same goes for me,” As much as you needed to adjust due to the angle of your recovering leg, you couldn’t make yourself do it. You were so wonderfully close to Hawks, you never wanted to move.
“If we’re being honest, then I need to be honest with you,” Hawks met your eyes, his expression going a little dimmer.
You braced for the worst.
He picked up your shift easily, finally able to express how quickly he caught your mood after so long of being attuned to it.
“Oh wait, no, (Y/N), nothing terrible, I promise,” Hawks rubbed at your sides. “It’s about the miel.”
“The... miel?” You cocked your head to the side, confused, recalling the drink somewhat hazily. “The drink I made you on the day of... the attack?”
Hawks gave you a tense smile, “That one, yeah. Remember how you said it was just based on your ambient feelings?”
“Uh-huh.” You let confusion lace your tone until it slowly started to dawn on you.
“You made the drink, ambiently, around me—”
Your eyes widened, mouth falling open, “Oh my god, Hawks, did my feelings for you get in the drink?”
Hawks graced you with a sweet, sympathetic smile, fingers tucking at the hair around your ear, “They did, dove. I’ve kind of known for a few days, it just hasn’t been the time or setting to say something. I apologize.”
“N-no, it’s okay, I totally understand,” You sighed into his grip. “I really thought it might be something worse.”
“Consider your worries assuaged,” Hawks hummed, eyes drifting to your boot. He deadpanned suddenly. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad does your leg hurt right now?”
Fairly bad, considering. You were half on your knees, the booted leg twisted awkwardly while still raised to the coffee table. This wasn’t even to mention the arch of your back so you could be all that closer to Hawks.
The pain of the position was easy to forget; you were still shaking from kissing Hawks just once.
“Uh, maybe like a seven, once I can feel anything other than how good you felt just now,” you hummed, grinning up at Hawks as his face went bright red.
The infinite pleasure you received, making him blush so sweetly.
He shook it off, squeezing your sides, “Cute. Very cute. Mutually returned sentiment, but let’s adjust.”
You nodded but didn’t have much time to react as a bundle of Hawks’s feathers lifted you every which way, albeit incredibly gently. All said and done, he was fully upright against the back of the couch. With the support of a feather or two, Hawks’s arms tugged you into his lap. Your legs stretched to the side, the booted one immediately propped up by a feather-supplied pillow.
You both settled yourselves, blushing and leaning on each other now that you finally were allowing yourself to.
Keigo fully wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against him. One of his wings even shifted to drape over one his shoulder, sheltering the two of you in a canopy of a crimson. Keigo let his hands wander over your hips, not seeking anything more than blessed attention and heat. You gave it all to him, tucking your face into his collarbone, drowning in the scent that made you feel at home.
Keigo pressed his lips to your crown and legitimately shuddering.
He spoke to himself, so faintly and quietly, you hardly caught it, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”
There was melancholy in his voice, but you were quick to strip it away.
You brushed your lips along his jaw, savoring the way he held you tighter, “I have too. Can we do this more?”
“Anytime, dove. Anytime.”
“Right now sound good?”
You withdrew to beam up at him as you were so good at doing, only to be smothered by craving-satiating kisses anywhere Keigo could get to. The sweet, high laughter that he dripped onto you made your heart burst all over again.
And you finally, finally fell into the other sweetly, warmly, and properly.
||||||||||||||||||
taglist: @thepandapopo @hawksexual @sinclairsamess @darcia22 @inhalingsoysauce @yee-fxcking-haw
#salem writes#lavender latte#hawks x reader#hawks x y/n#hawks x you#takami keigo x reader#takami keigo x you#takami keigo x y/n#mha reader insert#hawks reader insert#hawks#takami keigo#hawks mha#hawks bnha#im soft for this one yall#so soft
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hi!! i saw that your requests were open, i was wondering if you could do willie, on 2 nights of no sleep and about 12 cups of coffee, sends alex a confession text at 2am. chaos and fluff ensues
i love your work so much
-🦜
In hindsight, Willie probably shouldn’t have been awake for two days straight. Or at least, he shouldn’t have allowed himself near his phone after being awake for two days straight. Or maybe it was the coffee. 12 cups in 4 hours does strange things. Apparently.
Regardless of the cause, it was 2am and Willie was staring at their phone in absolute horror.
alex 🥁💜
[2:04AM]
so this is probably a really dumb decision but it’s 2am and i just had 12 cups of coffee so here goes. uh. i like you. in a non platonic way.
im sorry i’m really bad at this. haven’t exactly done this before. basically, i love you. a lot.
i know u don’t feel the same and that’s fine but i just wanted to tell you
btw if you wanna take some space or something i totally get it. just let me know haha
[delivered]
Yeah, Willie was fucked. It wasn’t their fault, though. Really, it was just the 2am timing (that he had decided to stay up until) and the 12 cups of coffee (that they had decided to drink).
Okay, so maybe it was his fault. But still. Any plans they had of sleeping had been completely thrown out the window. Willie knew Alex went to sleep at 11:30pm every night; they’d teased him at least a thousand times for it. Even knowing that, and knowing that there was no way Alex would be awake for another several hours, Willie could still do nothing but sit on the floor and check his phone every ten seconds.
Even despite their hypervigilance, he almost missed the low buzz that emitted from his phone after what felt like years of waiting. Willie snatched their phone up to view the lock screen and- @cool.skateboards444 liked your post. Oh. Willie felt his shoulders slump and he rubbed his eyes. What did they expect? It was- they reached over to his phone again to check the time and promptly dropped it back on the floor with a clatter. Below the glowing 2:17 timestamp was a bright white rectangle standing out against his lock screen: alex 🥁💜 - iMessage. Willie rubbed his eyes to make sure they were reading it correctly, and when he opened them again, the notification stared back at him, exactly as he had read it before. With shaking hands, they typed in the passcode to his phone (definitely not Alex’s birthday) and when they opened the messages app, they were met with the absolutely terrifying sight of the smallest text bubble they had ever seen: “oh.”
Willie barely had time to overthink the message before it disappeared, the messages screen now hidden behind a request to FaceTime?? Running off of caffeine, panic, and reflex, Willie instinctively pressed accept and was met with a sleepy-looking, pajama-clad, messy-haired, unfairly adorable Alex. Fuck.
“Uh, hey,” Willie said, and immediately cursed himself for how tense his voice was.
Alex stared for a second, seemingly taking in Willie’s run-down and exhausted appearance, before clearing his throat. “Oh, shit, sorry. Did I wake you up?”
“Nah,” Willie let his face split into the small grin that Flynn liked to call his ‘Alex smile.’ Only now he was realizing maybe that was accurate. “I was already up.”
Alex nodded and was silent for a moment before his eyes widened slightly. “Right. Your 12 cups of coffee. Please tell me that was an exaggeration?”
“No can do, hotdog,” Willie responded, shrugging slightly and running his restless fingers through his hair to ease the fidgeting. ADHD and coffee. A combination that was always unpredictable, never desirable, and pretty much inevitable with Willie at this point.
Alex frowned slightly and Willie wanted nothing more than to be able to somehow teleport into his room and smooth away that little crease between his eyebrows. Unfortunately, he wasn’t some ghost who could poof wherever he wanted to whenever he wanted to. That would be the life. Another thought far outside the realm of ghosts entered Willie’s mind, and he pushed aside the mental image of skating in Justin Bieber’s empty pool and focused back on Alex.
“Hang on, why are you awake?” Willie smirked, but his nervousness tugged his lips back down into a slight grimace. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“Time is a social construct,” Alex replied airily, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, and that’s my line.”
“Fine. I couldn’t sleep. And then you… you texted me.”
Willie couldn’t tell if the blood all rushed to or from their face, but it was one of the two because suddenly they were overheating, shivering, and vaguely nauseated. “Oh. right.”
“So…”
Willie couldn’t bring themself to look at Alex’s face on the screen, so they stared at their socks. They were mismatched, he noted; one was dark blue with hot dogs, and the other was dark red with skateboards. Alex had gotten them for him and had taken a sock from each pair for himself. Something twisted in Willie’s stomach and he looked away from the patterns. “Yeah.”
“Did you mean it?” Alex’s voice suddenly burst out louder and Willie looked up sharply. Alex’s eyes were wide in the frame, and through the grainy camera quality Willie noticed him biting his lip nervously. As if he thought Willie was going to say no.
“What- of course I meant it,” Willie blurted out before he could overthink it. “I mean- no, yeah that’s exactly it. Yeah. I meant it.”
Alex’s mouth dropped into an ‘o’ of surprise, and he breathed, “Oh,” so quietly that Willie nearly missed it.
“Oh, c’mon, hotdog,” Willie said quietly, daring to look into the camera. “You can’t just leave me hanging like that. What d’you mean by oh?”
“I mean I like you too, speed bump,” Alex said, followed by an audible breath of relief.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Now can you try to sleep?”
Willie felt like they had been hit over the head with one of Alex’s drumsticks. No, not a drumstick. They felt like someone had dropped the whole drum set on top of their brain, and they were still dazed from the impact. He shook his head quickly and blinked. “Uh-”
“Are- are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Willie reassured him with a growing smile. “It’s just, this is sorta a dream come true, y’know. So I’m a little out of it.”
Even in the crappy lighting of the phone screen, Willie saw Alex’s face go completely scarlet. Clearly fighting back a smile, Alex shook his head and returned, “Go to sleep.”
“Okay, okay, fine. Whatever you say, hotdog.” Willie giggled and ended the call, the image of Alex’s small smile imprinted on his retinas. Yeah, there was no way they were going to sleep anytime soon.
Just as they were starting to get into bed to at least try, there was a soft ping and Willie’s phone screen lit up. 1 message from Alex. With a soft smile, Willie unlocked his phone and opened up messages. There, in the familiar grey bubble, read the six most beautiful words Willie had seen in his entire life.
alex 🥁💜
[2:33AM]
it’s my dream come true too ❤️
-❊-
taglist (send an ask to be added): @deathdancer @julie-and-the-himbo-ghosts @willex-n-waffles @wlwcarries @girlboss-molina @julieandthequeers @lemonade-potahto @honorablescythecurie
read on ao3
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Writing Asks
thank u to sarah @soldouthaz, lily @theisolatedlily and late @tomlinvelvetfics for tagging me !!
1. describe how you first started writing and when you first posted
started in eighth grade after moving which fucked me up (i’m still to recover lmao) n i needed a distraction, reading had always helped but writing is what let me see what the root of my agony was. (im not trying to be pretentious i swear) i first started on wattpad (love hate relationship to this day) and beginning of lockdown this year gravitated to ao3 which has been my saving grace !!!
2. which of your characters do you typically resonate most closely with? do you base any characters off of yourself?
so far i’ve mostly written in louis’ pov. i’ve had to ask this question in the early stages — i resonate the closest to harry. most of my wips are harry centric for that reason. i mean, yes and no — i tend to take some part of me and fit it into the character but at the same time i don’t like seeing me on a page so yes and no.
3. where do you often find inspiration?
EVERYWHERE. mostly others’ stories be it in the way of songs, music, writing, art. usually it’s me coming across a vaguely aesthetic picture and my brain spitting out one or two random scenes and me trying to make that a story.
4. has quarantine helped or hindered your writing process?
both !!! i have new wips but also i lost a lot of motivation to do anything for a bit. school is sucking the soul out of me — it’s both easier and harder with it being online, the worst part is i can never truly feel like i’m getting a break from it. recently it’s been easier for me bc of the friends i made (ily all) it’s hindered a little bit bc i can’t go out and watch people and streetlights and the blur of cars and try to pour out that feeling into words and create something. at the same time it’s helped me gain more perspective on people and relationships which has been a massive help to writing in general.
5. do you listen to music/noise while you write or do you prefer silence?
depending on the number of classes i have/attend, my mental stability, the story and my sensitivity. i often can’t stand loud noises so there’s that but there is always some noise or the other so it’s never truly silent. i like it that way. sometimes i just play intense studying playlist on spotify and write, Lucida by Odin Sørlie and Haunted Heart by Dawn, Dawn, Dawn are my favourites.
6. what is your biggest writing pet peeve in your writing or in general?
excessive usage of the same word in mine. in general, i’m not a fan of stereotypical characters or romanticising harmful themes.
7. describe your ideal writing setup
2 am, in bed, music still ringing in my ears, three texts from my best friend about a story or about their day. under the blanket, the room smelling of chocolate or something sweet.
8. favorite time of day to write?
anytime but afternoon. those hours are for naps.
9. favorite genre to write + one you’d like to try writing in the future?
fiction? i’d love to write a fantasy au 👀
10. do you struggle with writer’s block? how do you typically overcome it?
yep yep. i just edit an old story or read my old works or other writers’ fics. i gave up trying to force myself into writing — i hated the end product and felt bad so.
11. what is the easiest part of your writing process and the most difficult?
probably the emotions? dialogue without a doubt — i dread writing it. it doesn’t come to me naturally. i can write lengths without dialogue tbh. also smut — it’s an eh eh aspect.
12. how do you come up with original characters? (if applicable)
my wonderful friends. they do dumb shit and i want to tell the world about their dumb shit so i make characters out of them.
13. what is your favorite and least favorite word?
as of now it is fucker — delightful word that one. least favourite is probably squelch — just no.
14. what is one thing about your writing that you’re really proud of and one thing you hope to continue working at?
the dreamy feeling i manage to write without a doubt !!!! dialogue and pacing. i don’t have the best dialogue or the pacing or the length for fics but i’m working on all of those !!
15. what work of yours has your favorite ‘verse/world building? how did you come up with it?
still a wip so i can’t tell you much except that it’s a proper treat. will write this once i’ve posted that fic !!
16. what font and size do you write in? single spaced or double?
*nervous laughter* the font changes from fic to fic — crush is comic sans, size 11. October was Lora, 11. Twisted in bedsheets is courier new, 11. stargazing is spectral, 11. so yeah — whatever the fic demands. single spaced !!!! except when i’m overwhelmed i do double spaces.
17. what is a typo(s) you find yourself making consistently?
I Cannot Type. if you think i can — congratulations you were fooled. autocorrect is the loml.
18. (if applicable) do you separate fic writing from fandom?
of course !!!! i basically do not exist out of my writing.
19. what emotion is your favorite to write? which is the most difficult?
pain, pining, longing. lust.
20. what is one thing you hope readers always take away from your works?
we’re all fucked up but we’re trying and trying sometimes is enough. you shouldn’t spend your life carved out around one person. it’s okay to ask for help and need a shoulder to lean on. i hope these come across in my future fics !!!!
21. what is the best and worst writing advice you’ve ever received?
bold of you to assume i’ve ever received advice.
22. which one of your works would you most want to see turned into a film/television show?
a new fic. will update the answer once that fic is out !!!!!
23. do you write scenes chronologically or out of order?
chronologically. i can’t do out of order. i do have a page full of scribbles but they are to tell me the order sjakmd.
24. how do you handle criticism?
if it’s constructive then well. no thick skin tbh. makes me feel as if i need validation from someone else on my art which isn’t necessary but my brain is wired to seek it and it’s a hassle.
25. what is the advice you would give to someone who is looking to start writing?
write everything you would want to read. write it bad, don’t worry about the quality. don’t worry about the audience. end of the day, it should be something you can turn to for comfort not something that makes you feel bad.
26. what kind of feedback on your work always makes your day?
people telling me they like my writing and it could take them out of this world for a few minutes !!!!!
27. which fic ‘verse of your own would you most like to exist in? which fic’s characters would you most like to befriend?
probably crush verse !!!! harry — his is probably the one character where i dump most of me in.
28. what do you always enjoy getting asks about/wish people would ask about more?
rant to me about anything. i enjoy talking. ask me about wips so i can take the little guilt and write more.
29. what has writing added to your life? how has it changed you?
it’s nice to let go and express things and create characters with a better situation than mine.
30. why do you write?
keep myself busy.
boost yourself + tags
1a. share the last sentence you wrote
No kissing. No flashbacks.
2a. describe the wip you’re most excited about
a little something i’m writing inspired by @brickredtoe’s art !!!!
3a. share the piece of dialogue from one of your works you’re most proud of
ok. well. from 5436 miles
“Or we could always add a trail of stars to one of those moons,” he replies, words dragged out, rolling around in his mouth.
He can see the glint in his eyes even behind his closed lids. Everything about Louis is inked and etched into every fiber of his being.
He would’ve kissed him, words pouring from his mouth into Harry’s, only half his.
He snorts. “And make it seem like the moon has a buttplug? No, thanks.”
4a. share the best first and last lines from your work(s)
both my published fics have circular endings.
5436 miles — Louis always had more stars in his eyes.
these tornadoes are for you — His heart beats in peace.
5a. link to the last fic you read.
sugary sweet by the immensely talented @soldouthaz
6a. link the last work you published
here
7a. link to your ao3 (if applicable)
wheeee
8a. someone that inspires you
taylor. she’s so so wonderful.
9a. a comfort fic/work that you’ve been grateful for this year
all of riv, sarah, ris and late’s fics. they’ve been so so comforting. Event Horizon by @mercurial-madhouse
10a. other writers that you’d like to tag!
@mercurial-madhouse @harryanthus are the only ones coming to mind atm. i’ve been up for too long apologies.
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Unknown (A Sterek Wrong Number/Celebrity AU)
11.09 PM Unknown Number
>I’m writing songs about you again.
11.20 PM Unknown Number
>its stiles btw.
>in case you deleted my number
>I did.
>I mean I deleted yours.
>but I still remember it apparently
11:41 PM Unknown Number
>I only have 2 lines so far
11:57 PM Unknown Number
>I bleed you from my veins.
>I grieve you like I love you.
>alone.
>its better with the chords.
>u were always better at writing lyrics than me
12:34 AM Unknown Number
>u were better everything than me
2:00 AM Unknown Number
>I hate that I miss you
2:07 AM Unknown Number
>do u want to hook up?
>I promise not to propose again
2:15 AM Unknown Number
>im sorry.
>ignore me.
>im drinking
Derek blinked bleary eyes. His phone screen was the only source of light in his room, as he read through the flurry text messages.
What the hell is a Stiles?
2:17 AM Unknown Number
<I think you have the wrong number
>Lydia?
<no
>oh thank fuck
>I mean
>I’m sorry
>for disturbing ur sleep
>but im just glad I didn’t drunk text my ex all of this
>bullet dodged right?
>is this what near death experiences feel like?
<I wouldn’t know.
>of course
>hey
>seeming as I have you here can I ask you a quick q?
>all my friends are asleep
<probably because its 3am
<everyone’s asleep
>2.39
>and ur not
>asleep that is
>so?
>I’ll take your silence as a go ahead
>what do you think?
>of the lyrics
<im the wrong person to ask
>never experienced heartbreak?
<no
<all song lyrics just look like bad poetry to me
>oh
>yeah I guess it does
>not everyone can be Rupi Kaur tho right?
<do you want to be rupi kaur?
>sure
>not to be dramatic or anything
>but
>I want to be anyone but me
>think id rather be someone like regina spektor tho
<regina spektor?
>singer/song writer
>shes my fucking inspiration
>her lyrics are like poetry to me
>you should listen to her music
<I dont really listen to music
>what the fuck?
>are you an alien?
<no?
>nice fucking try ET
>thats exactly what an alien would say
<…you got me there
>akdjfen
>is this you admitting I was right?
<no
<but this is me going to bed
<because its now 4AM
>already?
>fuck
>ive got an early start tomorrow
>good night random stranger
>and thanks
>for listening
>or reading ig
<good night
//
“You’re late.” Laura frowned, arms crossed.
“Are you going to let me in?” Derek grumbled, still feeling the affects of having stayed up until 4AM the previous night.
Laura didn’t argue she just stepped aside to let him through into her flat. “You’re grumpier than usual.” She noted.
“Didn’t sleep well.”
Derek hated the look she gave him then.
The look that said he was broken. The look that said she wanted to fix him.
“Is…Is it the nightmares again?” Laura’s voice dipped to a whisper, like the question alone would be enough to send him over the edge.
“No.”
An awkward silence defended over the two of them, neither knowing what to say.
Derek clung to the silence like a blanket, wishing things could go back to how they used to be. Back to when they knew how to speak to one another.
But this was enough.
It was enough to know that they were both trying. Failing. But trying.
//
2:40 PM Laura
>I’m here if you need to talk.
//
Derek isn’t good at art, but sometimes it’s the only way he can express himself. Words had never been his forte.
So instead he doodles.
Shitty toddler level doodles that he never shows anyone.
Sometimes he thinks if he could bring himself to show Laura she would like it. Maybe she would even understand it.
But there was a bigger chance that she wouldn’t, and he would feel even more like a stranger to his own sister than he already was.
//
10:18 PM Unknown Number
>I don’t remember it anymore
<You have the wrong number again
>No
>This is ‘not Lydia’ right?
<right
>So here’s the thing.
>I always thought if I needed to text her I could
>And I thought maybe I got her number wrong because I was drunk
>But I can’t remember it anymore
<Oh.
>I have some of her things still
>I don’t think I’ll ever get to return it now
>Unless she messages me first
<When did you two break up?
>Last year
>and I know what you’re thinking
>’it’s October’
>and I should be over her by now
>Trust me I know
>So you don’t need to lecture me
<I wasn’t going to
>Oh
<Stiles?
>That’s weird
<what is?
>I forgot I told you my name
<You should throw away the stuff she left behind.
>you’re right
>I don’t like it.
>but you’re right
>…thanks
<What for?
>for listening
>reading**
>my friends are pretty sick of hearing me complain
>so this is nice
<sure
<anytime
>dope
>no take backsies
<am I going to regret this?
>for definite
>you’re stuck with me now
//
That night Derek saves Stiles’ number as ‘Bad Poet’.
//
Stiles keeps messaging after that.
Stiles messages like they’ve been friends for years, and Derek very determinedly does not analyse why it is he always responds.
Even when there are messages dated from Laura from three days ago that he hasn’t even been able to bring himself to open yet.
He also ignores how when he’s messaging Stiles the gaping pit that had made residence in his chest feels just a little less inescapable.
//
Derek can’t bring himself to tell Stiles his name. He can’t bring himself open up, even though there’s a large part of him that wants to.
He’s not above admitting he’s scared.
//
Derek draws Stiles sometimes.
More accurately he draws a vague pair hands texting on a phone, because he has no idea what Stiles actually looks like.
Derek refuses to let himself dwell on that though, because they are happy drawings.
The pictures of Stiles are pretty much his only happy drawings right now.
//
They don’t always talk about Lydia.
Sometimes Stiles messages Derek song lyrics he’s working on.
Other times it’s memes, or just a bunch of emojis.
Once Stiles had just messaged him what Derek could only assume was a list of everything he had eaten that day.
Sometimes Stiles messages in rambles - and Derek can’t always keep up with the boy’s run away thoughts, but even then he never feels lost the way he does when he’s trying to interact with literally anyone else.
And sometimes it’s 2AM. Those are simultaneously Derek’s favourite and least favourite texts.
//
2:02 AM Bad Poet
>sometimes I feel like too much
>and too little
>at the same time
>u ever feel like that ET?
<not really
>its like I’m infinite, and meaningless
>like a never ending echo
>or a recurring decimal
>I just stretch on and on forever but theres no point to it
>I have no depth
<youre not meaningless
<you’re a rhythm.
<like breathing
>…
>was that a regina spektor reference?
<it might have been
>I thought you didn’t listen to music?
<well someone said her lyrics were like poetry
<so I thought I would check out a few songs
>well fuck
>what did you think?
<she’s good
>you spelt ‘amazing’ wrong
<I still prefer poetry
>of course you do
Derek stared at the texts an ache filling his chest.
Derek was the opposite of infinite. Everything he touched turned to flames.
//
10:30AM Bad Poet
<my sister bought me flower seeds
>I didn’t know you had a sister?
<she’s everything I have
>oh
<and I think she’s trying to trick me into therapy somehow
>…with flower seeds?
<yes
>you sound extremely paranoid
>maybe therapy wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for you?
<shut up
>noted.
>keep me posted on how your gardening goes
>also
>as a side note
>you know you have me too right?
>if you ever need to talk or anything, I’m right here for you
<thanks
>anytime
//
On Derek’s birthday Laura insists the two of them spend the day together, and Derek knows better than to argue.
She buys him a cake and they spend hours sat next to one another silently. Two strangers desperately trying to keep hold of one another but with an ocean dividing them.
Once their family had been so alive.
And it was all Derek’s fault that was gone.
They both knew it.
Sometimes Derek wondered if Laura hated him as much as he did.
He was too scared to ask.
//
That night Derek chased the ache in his chest away with a drink.
And then several more followed.
//
1:14 AM Bad Poet
<seh haars me
>sorry bud, you’re going to have to try again
>try spell checking before hitting send
<she.hates mee
>who?
<larn
>are you drunk?
<yeh
<tyongs ndrf
*Out Going Call: Bad Poet*
The phone rings twice before being picked up. “Sorry. Stupid keyboard is so small. Impossible to type.” Derek mumbled, his words slightly muffled by his cheek being pressed into the sofa cushion.
“Wow. You’re really sloshed huh?”
“No.” Derek denied. “Just tipsy.”
“Right. So what was it you were trying to tell me? Someone hates you?”
“Laura.”
“Who’s Laura?”
“My sister.”
“Oh.”
“She looks at me like she wishes she could fix me.”
“That doesn’t sound like she hates you, bud.”
“She should. I can’t be fixed.”
“You’re right, because you’re not broken.”
Hearing Stiles say that Derek could almost believe it to be true.
“I mean it. You’re not broken. You’re just a different shape than you used to be. But the shape you are now is beautiful.”
Derek closes his eyes and lets the words wash over him. “Do you sing?” He finds himself asking.
“What?”
“I know you write songs, but do you ever sing?”
“Oh…” Stiles sounds uncomfortable. “I guess… Yeah. I do.”
Derek hummed in the back of his throat. “I bet you have a nice voice.”
“Th-thanks.”
Derek tried to say something else, but all that comes out is a yawn, which makes Stiles let out a jittery laugh.
Derek tries to memorise the sound of It, but it’s so fleeting, it’s already slipping away from him.
“I think you need to go sleep, ET.”
“Yeah.” Derek agrees.
“Goodnight bud.”
“Wait.”
“Yeah?”
“Could you stay on the phone? Just for a bit longer.” Derek clutched on to the phone like if he could grip tightly enough it would make Stiles stay.
I don’t want to be alone. The words die on Derek’s tongue.
“Sure.” Stiles didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”
“Thank you.”
Sleep pulled at Derek’s consciousness, unravelling his grip on reality.
“Stiles?”
Stiles hummed in answer.
“Your shape is beautiful too.”
A small whimper came from the other end of the phone. “Thanks.”
//
7:50 AM Bad Poet
>how are you feeling today?
<better
>good <3
Derek holds his phone tightly and wishes that he had more to say. Just to keep the conversation going.
He also wishes (not for the first time) that Stiles was more than a faceless entity on the other end of the phone.
But it’s the first time he feels the want like a physical ache in his chest.
Derek had never been good with words, but if Stiles was here in front of him Derek would probably give him a hug.
But everything Derek touches eventually dies, and a larger part of him is relieved for the distance.
//
Derek plants the seeds his sister got him that day.
//
9:48 PM Bad Poet
>would it totally weird you out if I wanted to do another phone call?
>don’t feel like you need to say yes
>I just enjoyed talking to you
>and hearing your voice
>ugh.
>why are words so hard?
<I wouldn’t be opposed to a phone call
*Incoming Call: Bad Poet*
“Hey.” Derek feels breathless as he answers the phone, anxious excitement clawing it’s way up his throat.
“Hey.” Stiles sounds equally out of breath, and that helps.
Derek chews on his lip, scrambling for something to say. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know.” Stiles admitted. “Anything.”
“Helpful.” Derek said sarcastically.
“I mean. There’s one thing. I didn’t want to ask when you were drunk because it felt a little like taking advantage. And I don’t want you to think you have to answer-”
“Stiles.” Derek interrupts before Stiles could break into a full blown ramble.
“Tell me your name.” Stiles breaks. “Please.”
Anxiety grips his heart. But… he couldn’t stay scared forever.
“It’s Derek.”
“Derek.” Stiles repeats his name in a reverent whisper, as if committing it to memory.
And hearing Stiles say his name makes everything worth it.
//
Phone calls become a regular thing between the two of them over the next month. Always between late in the evening and the early hours of the day.
//
The next time Derek spirals he doesn’t drink before he calls Stiles, but he does cry on the phone.
The next morning he wakes up to a text from Stiles.
6:42 AM Bad Poet
>you need to talk to your sister
And Derek knows he’s right.
//
It’s not easy confronting Laura. He has two separate anxiety attacks on the walk to her apartment alone.
But he forces himself to take the dive.
“It’s okay if you hate me.” He tells her, even though it’s not okay. Laura’s hate might be the only thing in the world that could break him beyond repair.
Laura looks horrified as she stares at him. “I don’t- Obviously I don’t hate you Derek.”
“It’s my fault that they’re gone.” Derek addresses the elephant in the room.
If he hadn’t fallen in love with Kate.
If he hadn’t broken up with her, just to try and prove a point when she refused to say ‘I love you’ back…
There never would have been a fire.
Their family would still be here if it wasn’t for him.
“Fuck that!” Laura let out a harsh noise. “Derek, none of this was ever your fault. You were a kid, and even if you weren’t… You never set the fire.”
“I might as well have.”
“No. If anyone… I was your big sister- am your big sister. But I was so fucking wrapped up in myself. I didn’t even know about Kate.”
The last time Derek had seen Laura cry it had been at the funeral, so it took a second to fully sink in what he was seeing.
He found himself crying to.
“I’m so sorry, Der.”
Derek stumbled forwards pulling Laura into a crushing hug. Laura hugs him back just as tight.
They spend hours refusing to let go of one another.
//
He realises he fell asleep on Laura’s sofa when he woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. But he had no idea where it was, and he was too tired to move.
He feels Laura moving and the sound of the phone ringing gets louder before cutting off abruptly.
“Hello?”
“No - Derek’s asleep.”
“Maybe call at a more reasonable time?”
“Who is this?”
“Your voice sounds familiar.”
“Right.”
“Okay. Bye.”
Derek let sleep over take him once more.
//
2:29 AM Bad Poet
>sorry for calling so late
>you’re asleep so I’ll just take to you tomorrow
//
9:07 AM Bad Poet
<sorry, I was really tried
>no worries man
>you’re allowed to have a life outside of me
<was something wrong?
>no I was just bored, and didn’t realise how late it had gotten
>im fine
>how are you?
<im good actually
<I spoke to Laura
>yeah?
>I’m proud of you
>how’d that go?
<we both cried
<a lot
<and I ended up falling asleep on her couch
>look at you, opening up and shit.
>think I might cry now
<shut up
>literally never
>better men have tried and failed to silence me
//
2:40 PM Laura
>Want to see a movie on Friday?
<sure
//
One night Stiles calls Derek just to say his name in stupid ways, and laugh himself stupid after each one.
“Duhreek.”
“Doreck.”
“Fuck. I’m getting a stitch from laughing.”
“You’re so fucking dumb.” Derek is smiling as he said it.
“Deeruk.” Stiles wheezes out.
Derek just closes hie eyes and listens.
“I’m so fucking glad I know you, Stiles.” The words fall out of Derek’s mouth without much thought.
He only realises the weight of his words when Stile’s laughter pulls to a stop.
“I uh-” Stiles stammered. “Me too. Fuck. You’re the best thing to happen to me in…so fucking long. I’m glad I know you too Derek.”
//
Derek finally admits to himself that night that he’d fallen at least a little in love with the stranger from the unknown number.
//
He keeps trying to draw Stiles, but he can’t. Vague shapes just don’t cut it anymore.
He wants to map Stiles out with his eyes and translate it onto the page.
He wants to be able to see the smile behind the laughter.
He wants.
//
1:58 AM Bad Poet
>do you think you day we’ll actually meet?
>maybe not intentionally
>maybe one day we’d pass each other in the streets and not even know
>maybe we already have
Derek couldn’t imagine a scenario where he wouldn’t notice Stiles.
<is there ever a moment when you’re not talking?
<I think id recognise your voice and know it was you
>maybe your face would make me speechless ;)
<I think id still know
<but if you want to be sure… I could send you a picture?
<of me
>dkfajd
>for reals?
>you would do that?
>you?
<well…not for free
>there’s always a catch
>what do you want?
>my soul?
>a blood debt?
>you can have whatever it is
<I meant you’d have to send me a picture too
<geez stiles
The next text takes an unnervingly long time to come through.
>I could do that
>a photo for a photo
>I kind of look like shit rn
>so no judging me
Derek spends the next two minutes fussing and fidgeting to take a good photo. No matter what angle he took it from the bags under his eyes were noticeable, and so was the week’s worth of stubble he had yet to shave off.
And maybe this was a terrible, awful, idea.
But Derek would send one hundred bad pictures if it meant getting to see one of Stiles.
He forced himself to press send on the last picture he took.
As he pressed send another photo came in.
Derek’s fingers shook as he hit the button to download the image.
His heart stopped.
Stiles was beautiful in every sense of the word, and Derek found himself unable to look away. Even when he heard the small dings of incoming messages.
But he couldn’t ignore them for long, because it was Stiles. And when ever Stiles messaged Derek had to answer.
>Fucking hell
>are you for real?
>you gave me a heart attack
>am I being catfished right now?
>when do you think you were going to tell me you’re the most fucking beautiful man to exist ever?
>how the hell to you look like that as 2AM!?
>Derek
>oh my god
>you gotta respond my dude because I’m freaking out a little bit
>still there?
>did my selfie scare you away?
>I would have tried harder for a nice photo if I knew I was talking to an adonis
>Derek?
<still here
>of thank fuck
>so…
<so?
>come on
>your going to give me a complex
>the selfie…was it okay?
>I know it’s not much
>but we can’t all be greek gods
<its beautiful
<you’re beautiful, stiles
>oh
>thanks
//
Derek is so far gone that he makes the picture of Stiles the home screen on his phone.
//
9:49 AM Bad Poet
<Laura wants me to meet her boyfriend
<this is all your fault
>how is this my fault?
<because she never wanted to introduce us before
<and then you got me to talk to my sister
<and now she wants me to meet him
>…and this is a bad thing?
<yes
>because?
<I don’t make good first impressions
<it’s going to be awkward
>yeah probably
<you’re not helpful
>I wasn’t trying to be ;)
>have fun, Derek!
//
Meeting Laura’s boyfriend wasn’t as awkward as Derek thought it was going to be. But it was strange.
Derek hadn’t been expecting to meet someone so soft and kind. He was nothing like any one that Laura had dated before.
But he also wasn’t used to seeing Laura smile as much as she did around him.
Maybe not all change was bad.
//
Derek tells Laura about Stiles by accident. Or more accurately he mentions Stiles once by accident (not even by name) and Laura had badgered him until he admitted that he had made a friend through a wrong number.
“There’s a lot of weirdos out there.”
“I know.”
God did Derek ever know.
But Stiles is different.
“Just…be careful.”
“I am being. I promise.”
Laura reluctantly lets it go after that. “So…what’s he like?”
“He’s…he’s like bad poetry.”
“Oh god. You’re in love with him aren’t you?”
Derek can’t bring himself to deny it, but he does tell Laura to shut up.
//
Derek fully embraces being in love with Stiles on the day he tells Stiles about his drawings. He’d never told anyone about them before - not even Laura. But telling Stiles had been easy.
‘It reminds me of line art’ Stiles had said when Derek had sent him a photo of the doodle he had been working on. “I love it’.
A warmth flutters through Derek’s veins.
//
It all goes sideways on the day Laura goes on Derek’s phone to check the time.
She’d raised one eyebrow at him looking amused.
“I thought you didn’t listen to music?” She said, a teasing note to her voice.
“I don’t.” Derek shrugged.
“A huh. So why do you have a picture of Stiles Stilinski as your wallpaper?” She asks.
It’s so startling to hear Stiles name coming out of Laura’s mouth that Derek’s brain refuses to function properly. “How do you know Stiles?” He asks weakly.
Laura laughs. “He’s not exactly a niche celebrity Der. He was a really famous YouTuber before he started selling albums.”
Derek doesn’t know what to say to that. He blinks as his world slowly unravels before him.
No.
She had to be wrong, because Derek couldn’t be in love with a celebrity. Stiles couldn’t be…
“Hey are you okay? You look really sick?”
“He’s famous?” His throat is dry.
“Yes? Are you okay? What’s wrong? You’ve got to speak to me Der. Use your words.”
Derek just shakes his head because he can’t.
“It’s him.” He manages to get out.
“What are you talking about?”
“Laura. It’s him.”
It takes a moment to click but Derek knows when it does because a look of thunderous wrath takes over Laura’s face.
“I’ll kill him.” She seethes, shaking with anger. “What kind of fucking punk thinks that this is a good prank to play?”
“What?”
“No one is getting away with catfishing you, Der. I’m going to hunt this fucker down, and then I’ll rip him so many new ones that he going to look like SpongeBob when I’m done with him.”
And god, Derek hadn’t even considered the thought that Stiles might not even be Stiles. The thought of Stiles being a liar…
The gape in his heart grows a little bit bigger.
And it all falls apart.
//
It takes hours before Derek can convince himself to confront Stiles.
11:08 PM Bad Poet
<you’re stiles stilinki
>fuck
(And yeah, it was really him).
>how did you find out?
<Laura
>I was going to tell you
<Were you?
>Yes
>I’ve wanted to for ages
>It just never felt like the right time to bring it up
<I wish you had decided on the right time was sooner
>Me too
>I’m sorry
>Please don’t hate me
Derek did not think it was possible for him to hate any part of Stiles.
<I don’t
>Thank fuck
>seriously
>can I call you?
<sure
Derek closed his eyes after sending the text and waited for Stiles to ring. A heartbeat later his ringtone sounded off.
“Hey.”
“You believe me right?” And Stiles sounds more frantic than Derek had ever heard him before.
“I believe you, Stiles.”
“Are you sure, because I can prove it if you want? I can do a video call? Or I can tweet literally anythi-”
“Stiles.”
“Yeah?”
“You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
Stiles lets out a small whine, that reaches through the phone line and yanks at Derek’s already tattered heart, unraveling him just a little more.
“Meet me.” Stiles said, taking Derek by surprise.
“What?”
“Please. I meant to throw a please in there, I’m just really fucking nervous right now. Meet me please. In real life. I uh- I was going to ask when I finally told you about the whole being a celebrity thing. It’s still weird to say that out loud. That’s part of why it was so hard to tell you. But the point was you beat me to the punch with the whole reveal thing, but I still wanted to ask.”
“Stiles…”
“And it’s not that I was trying to use my influence or fame to pressure you into meeting me. I just wanted to be in a space where we were one hundred per cent honest with one another before I asked you. You can still say no. Of course you can, I don’t know why I’m- my point is I hope you don’t say no.”
Derek feels his heart break in two.
“Stiles…I can’t.”
“Oh.”
He hadn’t fully realised just how many worlds apart the two of them were when he had fallen in love with Stiles. It felt even more impossible than it had before.
“I’m sorry.” The words leave him feeling hollow.
“No. Don’t apologise. This is just me getting carried away. It’s okay.”
I love you. The words never leave Derek. They can’t leave him.
There was no way this could work, and he was far too scared of breaking the tentative connection they had with his useless words.
It was better for him to just… fall out of love.
//
6:17AM Laura
<it’s really him
>are you sure
<I’m sure
>what are you going to do?
<nothing
>Derek you’re in love with him
<I’m aware
<it doesn’t matter
<it wouldn’t ever work
>I’m sorry
<don’t be
<I’m going to be fine
>Im coming over with wine
//
That night Derek fills pages and pages of his notebook with drawings of Stiles.
When he gets a message from Stiles at 11PM- for the first time since they started messaging- Derek leaves it unopened.
//
He never ignores a message again after that, and life moves on. Stiles still messages him all the time, but he never asks to call anymore.
Derek misses his voice so much that he goes onto youtube and listens to his music.
He buys all three albums Stiles released and it still doesn’t feel like enough.
//
He fills an entire notebook with doodles of Stiles.
It’s still not enough.
//
1:11 PM Bad Poet
>I wrote you a song
>I know you don’t listen to music
>but it felt weird to not a least send you a link
>bad poetry at 2:00am
The link leads Derek to a youtube video of Stiles holding a ukulele and staring with a soft smile at the camera.
“Hey guys. It’s been a while, huh? But I guess I finally found inspiration. So here we go.”
The song is beautiful, but even more beautiful than that was Stiles.
When the song reached the end Derek doesn’t hesitate to hit replay.
He listens to the song ten times before he realises he’s crying - and he knows that he’s never going to ���get over’ Stiles because he doesn’t want to.
//
3:00 PM Laura
>have you seen the video?
<he sent me a link
<he wrote a song for me Laura
<I love him so fucking much and he wrote a song for me
>fuck
<what do I do?
>what do you want to do?
<I don’t know
>I think you should look at his twitter
<?
>I wasn’t going to say anything because you said you wanted to get over him
>but I think you need to see it
>@stilesstilinki
//
@stilesstilinski
I want to hug him
@stilesstilinski
Get you a guy that will stay up with you until 4AM talking about literally anything
@stilesstilinski
Why do I alway fall for people so far out of my league? rip me I guess.
@stilesstilinski
He makes me want to write poetry
Derek spends hours scrolling through Stiles’ twitter.
He scrolls far enough back that he gets to the part of his timeline where his twitter is littered with pictures of Lydia, which causes the ache in Derek’s chest to grow. But he can’t stop looking because Stiles looks so happy.
And Derek falls impossibly more in love.
He lets himself acknowledge for the first time that Stiles might love him back.
And everything else?
It’s worth it.
Because Stiles is worth everything to Derek.
//
2:00 AM Bad Poet
<so I looked at your twitter
>fuck.
>how much did you see?
<all of it
>tight
>please excuse me while I go die now
>bye
<don’t leave yet
<I had something I wanted to ask you
>did you want me to delete the tweets?
>I can do that
>I’ll just delete the whole account
>I am my own worst enemy so this won’t be a problem
>actually Jackson Whittemore is my worst enemy
>but I’m a close second
<stiles?
>yup?
<Will you go on a date with me?
>alkdjf
>yes?
>Ofc yes?
>are you being serious?
>because this would be a cruel prank if you’re not serious
<I’m serious
>yes.
>yes. yes. yes. yes. yes. yes.
>holy shit
>theres no fucking universe where I say ‘no’ to that question from you
>im so fucking in love with you
>is it too soon to say that?
>I don’t even care
>I’m speaking my truth
>you obviously don’t have to say it back
>im going to woo you so hard Derek
>you’ll have to love me back eventually
>I’m going to write you poetry
>hell I’ll even read poetry for you
>ill give the whole fucking moon to you
<why would I want the moon?
<im not gru?
>despicable me
>that was a despicable me reference.
>you don’t listen to music, but you watch despicable me?
>you’re such an enigma to me Derek
>god I love you so much
<stiles?
>too much?
<no
<I don’t think I could ever have too much of you
<I love you too stiles
<so much
<I just don’t want you to get your hopes up
<I might not be able to live up to it in real life
>impossible
<seriously stiles
>I am being serious
>I’m already in love with you Der
>you don’t have to do anything more than you’ve already done
>you could wear a potato sack, and spend the whole night not saying anything at all
>and I would still be in love with you
>all you have to do now is show up
<…I can do that
>perfect
//
TWO YEARS LATER
@stilesstilinski
Hey @JacksonWhittemore, remember when you told me I would die alone? Well I just got engaged to the love of my life. So checkmate fucker.
#sterek#eternal sterek#what am i even doing?#i just spent the last two days writing this and banging my head against the wall and nothing else#should i write this into a full fic one day?#i probably wont#hope you guys enjoy#sterek drabble#5k words of them being idiots#i cut so much out how is this still 5k?#stiles stilinki#derek hale#laura is the only other character that makes an appearance#im supposed to be sleeping#but here we are ig#texting#wrong number#celebrity stiles
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idk why i was thinking about this tonight but non-botany weird science experience #93084023:
when i was in high school, i was taking an environmental engineering course provided through the local community college. although it wasn’t AP i ended up earning college credit for it, and other than that it was one of the coolest classes i took; it was publicly funded, and they were able to take us on a couple field trips, including most notably (to me) a local yeast factory, like literally a factory devoted to growing yeast and processing it into yeast for baking and a ton of other yeast products (YES it was as wild as it sounds. i for one was very enthralled by Yeast Time and will treasure my yeast memories forever).
one time near the end of the year they brought in a bunch of local industry people to give talks to us and a few other engineering classes about like, industry and stuff. i was one of the only non-engineering kids in the class, as in i was one of the only ones more interested in research then industry, but like a lot of the stuff in the class it was just. really fucking cool.
one of our speakers that day was a dude from the local high fructose corn syrup plant. now, im not gonna talk about all the health effects or the science of HFCS here. i’m gonna talk about how when we came back from break the speaker had set up like, 40 or so cups on the front table, and each one had like, probably half a spoonful of clear vicious fluid in it.
oh yeah bay bee. they were gonna let us taste it. they were gonna let us taste raw ass high fructose corn syrup.
we each got a cup. it was bizarre. i remember like, kind of being perplexed by the actual visual of it. like obviously it’s an additive in plenty of foods nowadays so i had a vague understanding of it, but it’s not like it’s something you can buy in a grocery store? or at least i’d never seen it like, in a grocery store? like it was just a thing in stuff u bought, and i knew it was kind of bad, like not something u should generally subsist a diet on, and that was the extent of my understanding. so it was weird seeing it like, in its raw form.
like i said it was kind of a clear gelatinous substance. it formed like, a dollop in the bottom of the cup, probably the size of a quarter. it wasn’t watery per say; i’d say it was maybe the same consistency as like, cold maple syrup.
people were like. eating theirs. like some people just licked it up, all of it provided to them, the whole dollop. to this day i have no idea how the fuck they were able to do that, because look: i have a sweet tooth, i like sweet things, and before this encounter i was under the impression that i had a high bar for being overpowered by sweetness. i was like, ‘ok whatever its gonna be like maple syrup’, and i touched the tip of my tongue to it.
i will never forget that taste. holy shit. i am convinced that every single thing sold to humans to eat with HFCS in it must have a REAALLLYY diluted concentration of it, because the taste of just touching the tip of my tongue to it was just. impossible. i’m not sure my human flesh vessel was made to ever taste that in my life. it didnt like, numb my tongue, but it made my entire body kind of....get overpowered and immediately reel back from it. it was incredibly sweet in a way i can’t describe, like you could actually feel that it was made in a lab because nothing could possibly be that naturally compressed. it was vile.
i just. i think about it sometimes. it haunts me. nothing else ive tasted in my entire life has haunted me like the two seconds i spent tasting raw ass high fructose corn syrup from a dixie cup in a high school classroom. it wasn’t gross in the way that it would make you gag or anything, it was gross in how incredibly overpoweringly repulsive it was to experience. i wonder sometimes how, when they invented HFCS, who the hell took it off the factory line or lab bench or whatever and tasted it and was like ‘o fuck guys this is the good shit’ like. it was not the good shit. holy fuck.
anyway. just. theres no point to this post its one of the weirdest science experiences ive ever had thanks for coming to my ted talk
tl;dr: i tasted raw high fructose corn syrup once in high school and it was surreal
#there is NO reason for me to have written a full ass essay on this its just. it was wild#long post#not plonts#food mention /
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i want to know more about chris and lewis like details about their relationship aahh is that vague... im not sure what to ask i dont know much about them yet thats WHY i wanna know shit 🤔
HEHE uh well here’s a master post which kind of explains a little about how they met and how they started their friendship, all of that good beginning stuff. i’m not sure if you’ve read it but here’s a link
BUT! i can tell u a few major details about their relationship and if u have any more questions just feel free to ASK!! i will happily answer (:
so in case this has not yet been figured out, chris is the top and lewis is the bottom.... THATS JUST THE NUMBER ONE and it had to be said.
in the beginning of their romantic relationship, after lewis sucks him off without knowing in mouths edge, chris will Not stop coming to see him. he visits him every day after that, checking up on him, asking him if he’s alright, if he’s hungry, because mind you AT THE TIME lewis is homeless and he just stays in motels whenever he gets the chance. lewis gets mistreated and used by grown-ass men all the time with his job and chris tries to lighten up the situation by joking with him and attempting to make him feel better, inviting him over to his house so he can sleep in an actual bed. and finally, after like six attempts lewis agrees! because hell yeah he wants a nice bed to sleep in. it’s kind of hard to explain how lewis feels about chris while they separate after middle school and everything that happens to lewis happens. he kind of loathes him in a way, because lewis thought so highly of him back when they were kids. chris was a prime picture of what lewis wanted to be as a boy, free and willful, and seeing him drugged out of his mind and high all the time with bruises everywhere looking like complete shite makes lewis angry. it makes him feel like chris is throwing his life away and that he’s taking what he has for advantage. in a way he’s right. but chris has bad coping mechanisms and he can’t help that he is the way that he is. after his parents' divorce shit just kind of got bad. he was alone with yafir, his father, more and it was hard not seeing his mom- who is his rock and is his Home- and being stuck with his abusive homophobic father. they’d get in arguments and fights all the time, and chris would always lay in his bed and write in his journal ranting about wanting to die and how he just wants to see that blonde-headed kid again, how he wants to see lewis and to feel his eyes on him and to feel that warmth that he’d feel electrify his entire body back in middle school, he wants and misses the first boy he ever fell in love with. so when they see each other again for the first time in mouths edge and chris is blasted out of his mind after just having gotten in a physical fight with his father, lewis can’t even tell that it’s chris. it’d been so long anyway, about seven to eight years, and when he sees the dude walking toward him ready to pay for services he obliges because it’s his job. but midway through the service, chris notices. he notices it’s lewis and damn if he’s not gonna say his name and attempt to see if lewis knows who he is. lewis refuses and tells chris not to call him that, because nobody calls him that and nobody has for a while. lewis went by Lory in mouths edge. but hearing chris say that was an instant give away. OF COURSE lewis knew who the hell chris was, and he was sucking his dick in the middle of a dark alley against a brick wall????? it was all so fucking panic-inducing and lewis quickly finished chris off before getting up and walking away because that was all he owed him. but OF COURSE, chris doesn’t give up that easily, and he bugs him, asks him all these questions. “Why are you here? prostituting? what happened?” and “Are you okay? do you have a place to stay? are you hungry?” and this begins chris’s everyday visits and thus begins how they start hanging out more and more and slowly start to rekindle their relationship as it blooms a little rosebud in the middle of both their hearts (:
lewis stays at chris’s house and chris gives him the bed at first, making himself sleep on the floor. it’s all innocent and chris wants to make sure lewis is the most comfortable. especially at this time because lewis is fragile. but soon lewis invites chris up to the bed and they’ll lay beside each other like pin-straight needles, arms at their sides and legs together, eyes up at the ceiling.
when they share their very first kiss, it’s weird. chris goes in first of course, eager and lips puckering, waiting, his chest buzzing and his hands slightly shaking because this ought to be the best fucking moment of his life, but when he goes to connect to lewis’s lips, it’s cold. his lips are cold and soft, not eager, not excited....not kissing back. and this upsets and confuses chris and he asks lewis why, but lewis can’t respond because he doesn’t know why, he doesn’t know how to tell chris why. “I liked it,” would be all he said and chris would stare at him with his big eyes and scrunch his brows because it was obvious that lewis didn’t. and he was confused. see, lewis’s thing is that all his entire life he’s been used and has been ‘programmed’ in a way that he believes he’s meant to be used and that it’s his job to give pleasures to others, that he’s expected to just sit there and let others do onto him whatever their hearts desire so he accepts it, whether he likes it or not. but he can’t explain all of that to chris just because of a kiss, and HELL lewis doesn’t even understand it himself he just IS that way. chris doesn’t EVER push him though, and he doesn’t make him do things, he’s very patient and kind with him. he’s not stupid and can sense that there’s something wrong that will take time to make itself right and not even wholly so. so he waits. and waits and waits.
their first actual kiss takes place a good couple of months after that. there’s a moment shared between them that chris could have easily leaned in to kiss lewis during, but he doesn’t and it leaves lewis grasping for it for the rest of the day. he goes to work and can’t stop thinking about it. MIND YOU ALL THIS TIME IN BETWEEN THOSE MONTHS have been so tension-filled with small moments here and there, but this one moment was it, this was when chris was gonna kiss him. and then he DOESNT??? lewis is left PRETTY flabbergasted. but hes working at the junkyard with cody and he’s thinking about it, how close they were and how chris smelt like honey and lavender, how his lips looked soft and warm and how their shoulders were brushing the closer that they got. he thought about how his lips would taste and how they had both just eaten one of chris’s favorite snacks, those little Debbie cinnamon rolls, and he wondered if they’d taste like that. meanwhile, chris was fucking shitting himself. his face was entirely hot and in his head he was screaming “GO! DO IT! KISS HIM!” but then it was all “NO DONT DO IT! WAIT! DOES HE WANT TO?” and then again with the “HOLY SHIT WE’RE FUCKING CLOSE I CAN SMELL HIM HE SMELLS LIKE SWEET TAFFY THATS BEEN BATHING IN SUNLIGHT AND HIS LIPS LOOK LIKE FRESHLY BLOOMED SUMMER PEACHES THAT CAN JUST BE SUCKED RIGHT UP, SUPPLE AND GONE.” but of course chris DOESNT kiss him because hes an idiot and he insists he drives lewis to work because he’ll be late if they dont leave then!! and so he does. and lewis goes to work. and then chris sits back home in his room on his bed and kicks himself in the ass because YEAH HE SHOULDVE FUCKING KISSED HIM! and so GET THIS, he grabs his skateboard and BOARDS all the way to the junkyard where lewis is and he sees him as he skates up, hauling some sort of metal, and he kicks his board up and catches it with his hand and he walks over to him, and lewis looks at him slightly surprised and smiles and chris is close within seconds, and lewis whispers a soft “Hi,” and chris instantly hits him with the “can I kiss you?” and LEWIS NODS AND THEN THEY FUCKING KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSS!!! can you believe it they fucking kiss and it’s everything both of them could have ever wanted. it’s WARM and SOFT and it’s invigorating and ELECTRIFYING and it lasts a good TEN SECONDS before they pull away and smile all goofy at each other (: HEHEHEHEEHEH god i love that first real kiss man i could talk about it all day.
uhhhh anyway enough detailed backstory. here are some minor details abt their relationship together:
-chris is very into PDA and always has his hands on lewis, whether its on his lower back with his thumb brushing his skin softly or straight up on his thigh. and when their chillin in bens man cave with everyone, lewis will sit in chris’s lap on a beanbag together (:
-CHRIS is very INSECURE and will easily get upset when someone that he feels in any way is better than him gets all up on lewis.... he’s very sensitive. when mikael hugs lewis for a little too long or when ben kisses lewis’s cheek in an obvious brotherly way, chris can’t help but to get slightly jealous because he’s an insecure piece of poop ):
-lewis likes to stare at and touch chris’s ASS! and chris likes to do the same to lewis BUT THATS OBVIOUS. chris’ll be working on his board on the floor in a squat position and his crack’ll be showin a little bit and lewis’ll be like big eyes emoji
-mikael is pretty much a voyer and loves to watch chris and lewis makeout UDYGUGDYUFHLF chris and lewis make out alllllll the time it’s one of their most favorite things to do hehe (: they’ll be chillin in the back on one of the beanbags while everyone else is up by the tv playin pong and they’ll be kissin. mikael’ll look back and grin and nod his head and be all. “damn that’s hot. love you guys keep it up” DKGKUDGYLD it’s stupid he’s dumb
-lewis is very afraid of yafir! whenever lewis is over at chris’s he tries his best to stay up in chris’s room no matter what because going downstairs when yafir is home is very scary ): but when yafir leaves, chris and lewis’ll do tons of shit downstairs (: like cook together and shit in yafirs office
-ok but i havent talked about chris’s momma a lot but. his mom is literally an angel. melanie is a very very sweet woman who loves her son with her entire heart. chris is her everything, chris is her sweet handsome boy ): and by god when she meets lewis she is in love.....lewis is her BAAAAABY!!! melanie is a huge kid person, she works at a daycare hehe (: she likes to wear long flowery skirts and soft flowy blouses or shirts and shes a huge hippie. she smokes weed with chris a lot. she collects rocks and stones and gems and believes in their healing and health powers. shes very aura and chakra oriented, is very good at telling peoples vibes and thats where chris gets it from. shes very beautiful too... her and yafir together were a very very beautiful couple :/ thats why chris looks like handsome squidward
KHFGBLUHDLFH OKAY IM DONE IM SORRY THIS IS SO FUCKING MUCH i cant help myself. i love you anon please ask me more stuff if you want to know anything else!! i have a LOT more that i can talk about hehe. this is just a pinch of chris and lewis :/
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How do you imagine Tenco's Story ending in your head?
that is a GREAT but UNEXPECTED QUESTION freshlybaked "spider" bread and i'm really happy to have the opportunity to try and answer this ageless question that has burned within all of us in the tenco's story iv waiting room community since 2013. it is an incredible coincidence (or is it? 👀) that i was just talking to Risa about tenco's this (edit: yesterday) morning so i am extra double super in the mood to talk about Tenco's Story today. so excellent of a coincidence is this that i am tempted to refer you to them in case you wanted to hear their thoughts on the matter that would probably turn out super cool, but that is neither here nor there; let us talk Tenco's Story.
i of course must mention my unadvertised and modestly detailed commentary on tenco's i-iii at https://shidiand.tumblr.com/tencos, presenting slightly interesting facts in an unwieldy and difficult-to-use format, but as it dates back to june 2017, i want to take some time to understand my feelings about the series once more.
tenco's story is a series that has a lot of meaning to me.
i took on my current name of shidiand in november of 2013. i was still in 11th grade at the time, 4th year of high school, and a very socially isolated person. i should say i was introduced to touhou in 7th grade, 2010, so i was still working through a 3 years-strong phase of trying to simultaneously both find an outlet for and bottle up an endless wellspring of awkward weeaboo-gamer nerd energy at the time.
i had my first real foray onto the internet in 2010, tried out twitter, followed some RPers and other people who had Cool Touhou Usernames. didn't really go anywhere. i had maybe 50 followers, i dont really know the count but it was definitely a) double digits and b) pretty low. didn't know what to tweet about. didn't know how to hit it off with others. i think there was basically maybe only 3 other people i ever properly interacted with. oh shit i was playing league of legends at the time. oh my god. i really did play league of .. oh my god. let's move on.
aw shit im super digressing amn't i. well.
this is just how it goes when i write essays on tumblr.com.
i'm afraid you're just along for the ride at this point so please do your best to enjoy it.
i got kind of tired of twitter at the time because i didnt know what to do with it. didnt know how to interact with people and didnt find the people i was following interesting, so i ghosted on out of there by the end of 2012. didnt deactivate it until like 2015 but at that point that was just burning away my dark history. anyways. november 2013.
--im taking a lot of time here trawling through old files on my computer, my tumblr blog, notification emails still lying around in my gmail inbox from twitter, the dropbox i didn't actually use but it had several tenco's story pictures on it but i deleted them so this was useless, ... to trace the timeline of this story and im really seeing a lot of remnants of dark history here you know? did you know i wrote a letter to a girl i had a crush on valentine's day 2014, slipped it into her locker, and anxiously hung around nearby at lunchtime to see how she reacted at lunchtime? i certainly didn't, or at least i made darn ass sure to forget about this incredible virgin incident and not remember it, ever, until i came across the records of it that i thoughtfully preserved for the me of 5 years later today. ok well now i have to read the letter to see if it was as bad as it just sounded there brb
ok so the good news is that it was actually very focused on being positive and full of admiration for the cool things she did instead of being a confession letter so i am very glad i was able to be a respectful chad 5 years ago, but the bad news is that the jokes, the actual sentences i put together. oh my god. but i mean. well. at least i got the spirit. its certainly a step up from this other person in my grade, WEEABOO ANDREW, YOU MAY RECALL THIS STORY AND HIS NAME FROM PREVIOUS STORYTIMES, THE MAN THE MYTH THE LEGEND who came to school on halloween once cosplaying kirito from sword art online and got very possessive about people asking if they could hold his black replica plastic sword, and probably worse, dropped a "will you be my girlfriend" letter into the locker of my homie and fellow trombonist samantha, who was a little bit nerdy, hung out with the anime-likers who were actually sociable and fun to be around so you can imagine why weeaboo andrew was into her, which had i) a direct quotation from SAO chapter 16.5 (origin of the famous "glopping noise" line), and ii) a condom. jesus christ. i dont want to talk about this any more. next topic.
i also put this drawing of iku nagae and her skarmory (actually an albinoss from 18 DRAGONS) on the other side of the letter because it was the coolest thing i could think of drawing at the time. and i completely agree with 2014 me because it IS super fucking cool. hell fuckin yeah
https://shidiand.tumblr.com/post/76301993387/iku-nagae-ft-that-thing-that-supposedly-is-a
alright that was a fun little trip down memory lane but lets get back on track. november 2013. i started anew as shidiand. still awkward, still learning how to express myself and looking for my place among others. i followed some touhou bloggers, hung around r/touhou a lot as well. in december i got my first tablet for christmas, a wacom bamboo splash. i still use this thing! the usb cable disconnects if you bump it so i have to find just the perfect position to sit in whenever i want to draw, but its served me well. anyways. i was just starting to play around with digital art but i remember, probably just before new years, for some reason i wanted to find out more about tenshi hinanawi (i don't remember why. tenshi wasn't even one of my favourite characters at the time) so i went googling and right there on zerochan i found this:
https://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=23525572
this was during my dark souls phase so i just went BANANAS at the sight of this. this was literally the coolest image i had ever seen in my internet life. That image alone made me want to draw in hopes that I could make something as cool as that someday.
it wasn't immediately after but i soon discovered tenco's story, and it was love. kannnu was my very first artistic inspiration, and for a long time, my only one. i absolutely idolized them at the time. since then, ive found other artists to look up to, in a more healthy manner, but to this day i still look up to kannnu, still admire their work a lot.
i played around with drawing, followed the lives of people on tumblr, started reading touhou fanfiction, made a new twitter. i met a lot of new people along the way. some people i havent stuck with, some i cut ties with, and some people i still keep in contact with today. over those long 5 years of being shidiand, i found a name (i used to use shidian and then shid, but someone called me shidi once and i realized that was a lot better), how to reach out to others, how to express myself, places that i could feel included in. this is why i owe a blood debt to evelyn, who permitted me to kneel at her throne and was like "yea ok you can join my discord server u seem cool". evelyn, if you were confused by me ominously mentioning this blood debt/blood oath in a tumblr reply 1-2 years ago, this is the context. those 5 years were like a coming of age of sorts, that i never had when i was in high school.
and my love for tenco's story, that inspired me to draw that day, has been with me since almost the very beginning of my time as shidiand. from the beginning, i have always encouraged people to READ TENCO'S STORY, like the kin of those who cry PLAY MELTY or WATCH SYMPHOGEAR. i think my very first sidebar description was something akin to a prayer, written in very choral language, hoping for the day tenco's story iv was completed, ..., "meanwhile, furious shitposting". kannnu's work, finding delight in whatever they chose to draw, has been at my side, all along. my true mentor, my guiding moonlight...
so that's why i still to this day love tenco's story so much.
let's talk about tenco's story.
tenco's story is a story told through single pictures. the plot is vague, and details are sparse. dialogue is rare. we only know what has happened; we seldom know why. furthermore, there are many gaps between scenes that the reader is left to fill in for themselves; we see only snapshots that form an hazy outline of the events that occurred, and must imagine the rest. motivations and explanations fail me. but even with a barebones plot, tenco's story has themes, and if nothing else, those have to be carried through.
the main theme, of course, is journey and travel, but there are also other ideas, too. i actually think they start to change as the series goes on:
book i, where tenshi runs away from home, is about striking out on your own. it's a very fun and unpredictable journey, together with a friend.
book ii, where tenshi and iku are separated, forces tenshi to find and rely on companions of her own even more. but they do so, and they are able overcome hardships, and there is food and festival.
book iii marks a climax, reasserting tenshi's goal of finding the sword of hisou. i feel like the journey shifts from a travel (visiting) to a path forwards (making your way through). perhaps this is just something i get from knowing the locations from dark souls (Anor Londo, New Londo Ruins, the Great Hollow), but the locations start to give more of a sense of verticality, like they're emphasizing tenshi's climb to the summit. the hardships and enemies are the greatest they've been yet, and right when they near the top, tenshi and iku start to bleed. the book ends on an uncertain note.
if i had to describe the type of journey and travel that tenshi and iku undertake, there's this sense of wonder at discovering new places, wandering from vista to vista in delight, but also a sense of conquering, making it through a difficult patch. the sequence from pages 2-44 to 2-51, taken together, convey this sense of overcoming the best. it's one of my favourite parts. again, although the tone definitely starts to lean towards struggle in book iii, i think tenco's sense of wonder really is the heart of the series. there's no map of the world, no predicting where tenshi and iku will end up next. and through their travels, though they come across many enemies, they also find friends -- places of refuge, places full of life, people who will look after them for a few days, companions who will stay with them for the rest of the journey. at the end of book iii, we see a long haired tenshi with purple hair being impaled by the sword of hisou (3-33, see also this extra illustration that risa pointed out to me http://sinnnkai.blog.fc2.com/blog-entry-195.html), and regular short haired tenshi continuing on her journey (3-42). if we ignore the out-of-story images where tenshi has the sword of hisou, tenshi has actually only ever used her sunlight blade (2-24, 3-26, etc), so i think that the long haired tenshi on 3-33 is a different person altogether. (if i had to guess, she might be the purple haired woman in the top left of https://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=35443328 as we have never seen that woman appear anywhere.) she probably has something to do with the flashbacks at the end of book ii and she might somehow be short-haired tenshi at the same time, but this is just speculation.
however, in 3-43, tenshi's hair is rather blue, so i don't know if this is the purple haired woman or not. if it is, tenshi is probably still fine and closing in on the summit, but if it isn't, then it's very worrying to see a picture of tenshi without any of her companions. it's very ominous.
meanwhile, iku, while climbing the red carpeted corridor, is stabbed, and disappears for a few pages. there's a black page, a shot of a shrine that strongly resembles the hakurei shrine, and a picture of iku standing behind someone in a tux, with the line "In the past, I was saved by the lady I was serving, you see?". and then iku wakes up in a field of flowers.
i think what this scene makes clear is a theme that has continued to appear and reappear throughout every book of "being saved, being aided by someone's kindness".
i think another theme that is implied and has to be addressed by this story of running away from home is "return". something im imagining is that the reason tenshi makes finding the sword of hisou her goal is because she wants to have something to prove herself with, to vindicate her when she comes home. but i don't think she needs to prove anything, and i ultimately think that she would be happier spending the rest of her life exploring.
so i think this should be what happens in the ending.
open on iku's journey, and give her a long sequence of travel without seeing tenshi. underline her newfound resolve. she climbs to the summit with albinoss, and finds the rest of tenshi's companions fallen. and in the last room is sword of hisou tenshi, who has lost herself, and it comes down to iku to bring her back. after a difficult battle, when both of them are on their last legs, iku is unable to stand any longer. but at this moment tenshi sees her companions struggling to get back up and reach her, and that's what brings her to her senses. and iku gets to see how many friends tenshi's been able to make on her own, and they finally and properly reunite. together, tenshi and iku carry each other out of the last room.
i don't think it's necessary to return to heaven. as a conclusion, dedicate some time to tenshi and iku travelling together. they're on their way back, revisiting old friends who helped them along the way, enjoying the journey. their last stop is the house of the elderly nawis (1-42). tenshi shows off the sword of hisou; she decided to keep it not as a trophy to show her family but as proof of the bonds of her companions. surrounded by friends, tenshi and iku decide to part ways with each other, knowing that the other will be alright. iku drifts among the clouds once more, and tenshi sets off for the horizon.
that's the plot that i'd write/just wrote. i don't really expect tenco's story iv to ever come out, though. i mentioned my first sidebar description earlier in this essay, but of course, you can see that it's been changed. 2 years ago, i read my hopeful prayer once more and was struck with a terrible melancholy, so now it reads this: "having come to terms with the fact that tenco's story iv will never be released, i can still live, knowing that the spirit of the journey will live on through kannnu's original works [...] meanwhile, furious shitposting".
on one level, tenco's story is a story, but in the process of following it, i came to think of the work itself as a journey too. you can constantly see kannnu's improvement between and even within each book. they have always drawn whatever they liked; what plot matters in the face of "I wanted to draw a beautiful sky." "I wanted to draw a fantastic battle." "I wanted to draw Dark Souls and Monster Hunter and Pokemon and Brave Fencer Musashi and Bokura no Taiyou and Touhou."
its not really kannnu's style to go back and tie up old ends. they just draw whatever makes them happy. so as i watch them continue to draw beautiful places and fantastic creatures, new characters heading out on journeys of their own or just enjoying their everyday lives, it's as if tenco's story never ended. the limits and consistency of that world ignored, and a new one springs up; in a way, the world of tenco's, which had such thin boundaries, just gets bigger.
but even so, having said all that, i still see them draw that short-haired tenshi from time to time. it makes me happy to see them remember tenco's story with such fondness. often crossing over with orion or roar or elweiss, you can see tenshi on another journey.
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This is me being awkward and emo and loving you already
Submitting because it’s so freking long whoops…This could be a pile of dumbass statements, tbh I’m just overemotional sometimes (and we Italians are known for sucking at foreign languages so I cannot guarantee that what I wrote makes sense), so I apologize in advance :’)
ok now that I’ve read your adorable tags I just HAVE to tell you this because believe it or not I’ve been thinking about sending you this message for like, the past 10 days or so (but I didn’t wanna sound awkward or anything): it’s such a pleasure seeing you on my dashboard. You represent everything I love about fandoms.
You see, I’m a lil weird… I hate every kind of conflict, both irl and online. Fandom wars? My nightmare! I often see posts written by/for antis where the only way to defend a character/ an actor/ a concept, is to destroy another one. And not only I dislike it, it also makes me very VERY uncomfortable and it’s what usually ruins a fandom for me. Of course calling out toxic behaviours is okay, but other than that I find the whole ‘antis vs stans’ culture very unsettling (rn I’m thinking about Steve and Tony in particular because you recently stated that you don’t like Civil War and I couldn’t agree more).
But your blog is just the opposite! I mean, aside from the excellent quality content, you never reblog/write anything negative. Instead, you choose to analyze characters and situations in a positive and critical way, and whenever you reblog something vaguely more ‘aggressive’ you always clarify in the tags that your own point of view is actually far less extreme. For someone like me, that means the world. I genuinely find your blog somehow soothing, like a wonderful and peaceful place (now you know what I meant when I said I was afraid to sound awkward lmao).
And since your blog says a lot about you, all the things I’ve just said apply to you as a person as well. I can’t say I know you, of course (tho I’d love to), but I’m pretty sure you’re just as soft and respectful irl as I imagine you to be.
I love and cherish every one of my followers, mutuals or not, and that’s a fact. And needless to say, all the people I listed in my post deserve that spot. But know that even if we’ve never actually had a conversation, you have a special place in my heart (aaaand again, a w k w a r d girl alert!), and that you’re one of my favourite people here.
Idk if you were serious about the friendship thing and I understand that creating a real friendship online is difficult for loads of people, but if you were serious I look forward to be your friend :’) <3
–
ok @godisavalkyrie I dont even know where to start okay, so I’m gonna make points in the order of how I go thru the paras bc aaaaa
ok first of all, I love seeing you on my dash cause you rb sUCH amazing stuff and also when I see you reblogged the stuff I reblogged it makes me feel this dsjkgkd happiness like “aaah yes, I have pleased The Friend” kind of emotion OK, you’re just so smart and so wholesome on the internet I lov u big time OK
and lol i’m awkward as hell so dont worry if the conversation ever gets weird its bc i dont know how to carry a conversation but that doesn’t mean I dONt wanna be fRIENDS ok we gOT THIS
and oh yea, antis of any kind are just the worst like if u dont like something then fiNE! dont like it, but nah they’re gonna make blogs and stuff to make specific posts to POST hate and that’s the lamest fucking thing like wow you’re talking this way about fictional characters pleas chill go eat a pizza or something idk stop being so hateful jesus fck
oo ya I totally get ur conflict point bc some days im like that but some days my impulsive ass is ready to fight lololol srri I’m 5ever bitter with CW dsngkdsngk I think the writing could have been vastly more nuanced but well, Marvel had a plan and they tried their best lol. Your stand on the whole anti vs stans thing is so justified bc honestly it gets very very toxic in the fandom it’s suffocating like people are rude to people for NO reason but simple dumb hate it’s absolutely ridiculous.
i’m gonna cry this is the fucking sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me gosshhhhh I try to keep my blog the kind of thing I’d come back and enjoy going thru and feel good about i’m so happy to hear you like it aaajkkfhsgj catch my brain machine breAKING skjgkg <3
aaaa what’re you tlaking about online friendships are THE JAM I’ve met a couple of people here online that I’m ready to die for and i know online friendships are hard to sustain but i gUESS WE’RE GONNA FIND OUT BC guess wHAT WE’RE FRIENDS NOW (if ur ok with it plsss)
You’re legit one of the kindest sweetest people I’ve met on this hellsite and I’m so glad to have met you the fact that you tag me in those posts like shit that’s too damn soft ughhh it makes me so emo everytimee I’m just,,,, really overwhelmed,,,, know that I LOV U and we can be awkward together BABAAEEEEYYYY
#yes hello rossana how do u do#I finally sat down after my finals#and wrote a reply that isn't half deserving bc i am STILL SHOOKETH#and double overwhelmed OK#submission
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more rick and morty nonsense-- this time, rest and ricklaxation
i havent seen any posts outright pointing this out so: we know that toxic morty contains a lot of morty’s insecurity-- “I don’t want to be on camera I’m ugly”, “my voice is annoying”, so on-- and that he’s scared he’s gonna be in hell, but he also outright states that he "just want[s] to die”. Also that he’s in pain.
Other things Toxic Morty says:
“I believe you” to Rick, with no hesitation-- Morty’s occasional blind faith in his grandpa is viewed as toxic? Healthy Morty certainly doesn’t just play along with Rick’s ideas
“*screams*”-- panic
“yes rick, i-i agree rick”-- stutter, capitulation, submission, avoiding confrontation
“i think my voice is annoying” in response to rick asking what morty thinks of him discovering electricity-- vaguely self-centered in a depressive way?
“i dont like confrontation”-- yeah no kidding
“i-i dont like this, this is scary” fear, aversion to violence
“i’m a piece of shit but I got the tank” obedient, self-hating
leans on dash much like healthy morty did, looking resigned
“jesus christ it hurts”-- unlike healthy morty makes no effort to reassure others
Toxic Rick :
“you can die when I say so”-- controlling
“why am I bragging about that, I have nothing to prove”-- insecurity
“I’m surrounded by inferior pieces of shit and--” *looks at morty* LOOK IM NOT SAYING HE DOESNT VIEW MORTY AS AN INFERIOR PIECE OF SHIT I’M JUST SAYING THERES AN IMPLICATION THAT IM CHOOSING TO READ INTO. YES HE FINISHED WITH ‘TOXINS’ BUT COME ON that pause tho
hey where did toxic rick get fucking glass test tubes
*destructive tendencies*
“I’m gonna rip your throat--”-- violent boi
“you little sociopath/okay shut up morty”-- considers healthy morty a sociopath, doesn’t want to listen to morty talking about people hating him (did not shut him up previously, only now)
“don’t negotiate with that little turd, you’re the rick, you need to show dominance!” insecurity, desire for control at any cost
angry when his plan goes downhill, angry about remerging
“I got a lot more use out of that thing than he ever did” considers his sexuality a toxic thing, bound to his anger and irrational attachments?
“fuck you summer” no respect, no apology
“alright fuck this time for plan b”, but leaves beth alone
fucking throws healthy morty out of the ship. not his morty, not his problem, i guess?
brags at a very uncomfortable toxic morty
“trapped in your brain... with delusions”
“relax, quit your bitching, you’re gonna be fine... grandpa’s here”-- that same arrogance that makes him call himself a god, is what assures him that he can help toxic morty
“just do it you piece of shit!” angry but resigned to the only solution he can see (small picture)
Healthy Morty:
“mind if i put on some music?”-- considerate, nonpresumptive
the whole “one song a day” thing-- optimistic, planning, looking to the future
“if anyone could [calculate happiness], Rick”-- deep respect for Rick, respect for intelligence, flattery
“thanks rick. I love you”-- affection for his grandpa, appreciation
“if we’re all bored, wouldn’t the common denominator be you?” this is a clever joke, but it’s mean. cleverness/humor is prized above consideration and kindness
“I knew you could” and the rest of this montage-- uh so Healthy Morty provides the confidence Normal Morty is missing to a bunch of people. if that’s not symbolism idk what is; plainly Morty considers supporting and helping people Healthy
“*doesnt react to being called a loser, not even to deny it*” I wonder if this is like, self-acceptance
suave but still in an awkward way? like he drops a pickup line on jessica with an awkward forced laugh
“happy to help rick”-- but no surprise, no real emotion. like it’s forced
“bad phone, chuck it”-- acceptance of simple answers
“if something’s worth saying, it’s worth eye contact”-- considers reliance on technology unhealthy? interesting especially considering his interactions with Rick and all his tech
“you shouldn’t have to deal with that, man”-- curiously, despite making it his job to stop other people from being in pain (helping all his schoolmates), he advises against helping the Toxins
“I think i know what to do. *snaps phone in half*” destruction of property, choosing simple solutions
“things are good... taking that away from me? that wouldn’t be healthy.” manipulation, selfishness, self-preservation
“world’s greatest grandpa, for reals” more manipulation
awkward chattering, spouting shallow wisdom
“pronounce it however you want, words are just things” lack of judgement
“please, thank you, we’re having a conversation”-- shoos away the waiter to make jessica less awkward, being rude to the waiter in the process. singleminded, simplistic solutions
extended metaphor of jessica to a planet, including some like very specific shit, “what’s the equator, what are the holidays”
“talk to me.” demanding, assertive
really... loud? and aggressive, and awkward and emotive; very little self-control
lacking attachments, passions, “life is a highway”, “no sparks no damage”
...really long metaphors with stacey too. u ok morty?
“bad parts of us, which includes our dishonesty” (emphasis mine); morty has no question that deceit is bad. of course, that’s what a manipulative little shit who believes in lying “for good reason” would say, too, so.
stacey will “do anything for you morty”? weird, probably more evidence of his manipulation. quickly earned her devotion
“kill him rick!” morty considers his violence and willingness to retaliate “healthy”
bites toxic morty-- willing to use unfair/dirty fighting techniques just like toxic rick did
also grinning while he attacks him
casually stops and leans on the dash, blank-faced, when beth appears. again, no passion, no emotion at all
also healthy morty was in the driver’s seat and only settled once he was in control
“we gotta stop him”
the one to explain why Healthy Rick shot Toxic Morty again
“you’re a better man than me Rick, I’m healthy enough to admit that”-- healthy morty to regular rick. what does it say that both toxic and healthy morty view rick as superior? man, that’s kinda fucked, even if healthy morty’s actions here are totes dickish
“have I ever lied to you? that’s right, and ask around, I never do” manipulaaaaaation
uses jessica as yet another extended metaphor
draws attention, revels in it, offers falsely specialized attention to people to earn and keep their affection (the wink, the friendliness with “dwayne”)
“red pill or blue pill”
“totally understand dwayne, you’re the boss”, then cuts to... jargon that makes his coworkers happy. i strongly suspect at least part of a lie here, or an omission of truth
the boy is really obsessed with organic carrots, who knows why
“is that how long it takes for rick to trace my location” but he’s smiling, not scowling, he’s... at best amused, at worst unbothered, i guess?
“you miss someone that loved you so much you never had to love ‘em back” holy shit morty
“you didn’t hang up”--”huh. how ‘bout that.” then to surprise into mild consternation when the fucking voltron drones show up
“do what you gotta do”-- despite not wanting it, recognizes the inevitability of rick getting him to remerge
apparently healthy morty told his girlfriend that he was “capitalizing on his lack of conscience by becoming a stockbroker”. interesting
Healthy Rick:
“heheh, this universe”-- considers the universe impressive/beautiful/awe-inspiring (compare to ‘the universe is a crazy chaotic place’)
“that is an interesting concept... listen to me, trying to calculate happiness over here”-- respectful of others’ ideas, still brilliant and trying to improve on them, recognizing that math/science isn’t the solution to everything
“here’s something no science could measure: i’m real proud to be your grandpa, morty”-- pride in his grandson, acknowledging the limits of science
“morty, a moment of your time?”-- so polite hot damn
“what if the toxic parts of us have their own identities-- their own will to live?”-- inherent respect for the value of life
“i’m accountable to my toxins”-- considers responsibility and facing it healthy
“locked ‘em in a cage *hits it while smiling as toxic rick swears*” my guy what the fuck; theoretical emotion, no actual immediate empathy
upset, sad about toxic rick’s deception
“sorry summer” considerate, apologetic
“summer get out of here, go”
“we can resolve our issues, we don’t need to resort to over-the-top--”
“just leave her out of this”
“it’s okay girls, i’m so sorry” takes the time to be reassuring and apologetic when danger is still afoot for the world, offers to cook??
“not our right to stop them”
“your morty”/”i know you give a shit dummy, because I know I don’t”-- i think this is again about “not my morty not my problem”, and that Healthy Rick doesn’t care about Toxic Morty
“merge with me and you’ll know how to save him”... except once they merge there is no saving him, is there? just preservation to merge him with Healthy Morty
“I had all my problems removed-- my entitlement, my narcissism, my crippling loneliness, my irrational attachments” -- things healthy rick considers unhealthy are identified, but he’s still doing this in part because healthy morty insisted it was the right choice, and he’s still proud to be morty’s grandpa
“you’re literally incapable of seeing the bigger picture” so large-scale thinking is considered healthy?
“if i ever gave you the wheel, we’d be dead in five minutes” and isn’t that true, because toxic rick is willing to sacrifice himself for morty, and is too arrogant to think anyone is a threat to him? he would get morty AND himself killed if toxic rick was always in charge. no, letting toxic rick guide him is inevitable, but being controlled by him is unacceptable
Regular Rick:
“man i really overthink shit when I’m angry”
“now it’s time we re-merge your little ass” interestingly his priorities were a) fix planet (what morty asked him to do), b) remerge morty (save toxic morty)
“that kid is a real piece of shit” (about healthy morty only)
“part of me really wanted to [save you], toxic morty. part of me really wanted to.”
“tiny american psycho”
“kept asking ‘did you get a new morty yet?’“/”because you kept drunk-dialing me and crying about it!”/”I WASN’T CRYING” /in the background “I didn’t care” (what a liar)
Conclusion: as funny as most of this episode is, it strikes me that what Rick considers unhealthy, Morty considers healthy. Healthy Morty is violent, lacking a conscience, manipulative, domineering, sexual, and lacking in passion and attachments (he does, after all, abandon his family, not just Rick, for three weeks). Yes, he’s also less of a coward, not suicidal, and helpful, but compare to Healthy Rick. Healthy Rick is similarly lacking in passion and attachments, but he’s nonviolent, honest, less arrogant and less willing to impose his will on the world, nonsexual, and calm. Everything Healthy Rick isn’t, Healthy Morty is. It’s a fascinating insight into how Rick’s lies and denial are fucking up Morty’s perception of what is “healthy” and what isn’t. He has come to view violence, foul play, manipulation, lack of emotion/conscience, and dominance as valuable skills, even necessities, instead of the shameful attributes Rick views them as.
#rick and morty reference#rick and morty#rick and morty theory#i guess?#sort of it's more analysis than theory#toxic morty#toxic rick#healthy morty#healthy rick#slime morty#slime rick#tl;dr morty views everything rick hates as everything he should value
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fairy lights, 1975, plants, oil paints, and lightning
OH MAN OH MAN THANK U ILYSM
fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?
oh god this is impossible to decide. I think like. I just have this feeling of like - everything i know and find out happens at exactly the most opportune, right moments so if i had a crystal ball to give me any answer i’d be like?? is this cheating the organic course of fate or is this part of fate’s ultimate plan??? tf??? i think in the end i’d ask something so vague so that the answer i’d get could like; still be doused in suspense and leave me with something to wonder
1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?
it was two days ago, i postponed a lesson i had and curled up in bed while it rained, and it was the most peaceful i’d felt in years, the most cosy - though i’d like to say that it’s been a very happy few weeks!!! which is a very good thinghonourary mention: last week i went to a friend’s house and we watched a movie and it was so homey and lovely and i m just warm
plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them
oH DAMN????????????????? honestly wtf i don’t know i have so many friends perfect for this?? im resisting the urge to say mac bc honestly that’s who i wanna stargaze with the most buT adfaldfjkfklad to give different answers I think in the end i’d go with either miriam or jari - miriam and i have had incredibly intimate and wonderful conversations under the stars and jari and i basically work like two pieces of a vibrant unit, understanding and completing each other like our brains were meant to be one u kno??? plus their heart belongs among the stars, i think it’d be a religious experience to watch what thoughts come to them
oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?
i’m literally so indecisive can someone else title it for me pls and while ur at it write it for me too?? xoxo ;)))
probably what the fuck, genie or 17 Years Of Bad Decisions and Surprisingly Beneficial Repercussions
lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?
i do plenty of embarrassing things sober too but as for “worse”, i don’t think i can categorise them but definitely one of the worst would be getting high on the roof of a church 30 mins before my dad would come to pick us up with his car, and im not sure this counts bc this wasn’t An Awful Act Borne From Non-Sobriety but rather,,, just a bad decision in general but ;; that’s my brand
(asks from this post)
#drugs tw //#alcohol //#answered#genie.txt#im sorry guys did u think i was innocent n pure#jkdsfjkadfjkljldkf WeLL THAt"S RUINEd
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So You Want to Go to Gravity Falls [4/?]
ELISHA DIDN’T HAVE THE FAINTEST IDEA WHAT WAS GOING ON.
She vaguely remembered Thomas saying something about how, “they were going to limit their electronic use,” on their getaway (after she had witnessed him putting a game into his backpack!) but wasn’t really sure to what extent “no electronics” was put to use. So Thomas and his friends could possibly be chased by gnomes or attacked by a horde of imps, and she’d have absolutely no idea whatsoever.
She was invited to come on their trip, of course; her fiance wouldn’t ever have been so rude as to not, but she had politely declined. It was for the best, she supposed; while she was comfortable with Thomas’ group of college friends, this particular get-together was drawn on the lines of a reunion. She would have felt awkward and intrusive to accept his invitation.
And it wasn’t like she didn’t have anything to do, really! It’s just, well, August was an awfully boring month. And she would have called up her girlfriends to hang out, but Lilah was in Paris with her family, Jessica was also travelling, and Caren had to study for their M-CAT exam….
That was how Elisha found herself walking to the post office.
She could very well just request her post electronically, but she convinced herself it would be worth her while to get out of the house and stretch her legs a bit, take a stroll through town…
When she reached the small building, she came to the realization that she had never actually been inside before. Was there even anything inside besides the robots that did the transportation and packaging?
No time for doubts now. She was already here.
Hesitantly, she grabbed the brass door handle (how obsolete!) and walked inside the tiny building. She was immediately questioned by a small robot if she would like anything to be sent or wrapped. She declined.
Declining was something she was doing a lot of these days.
Observing her surroundings proved her wrong about the office. She found it to be more.. modern than expected. With its busy robots and elves at work in the office gave it a welcoming, workshop- like feel. She walked tentatively to wait in the line for her mail, marked by a small, rusty sign indicating where it was.
There was one other person in line, who had glanced at her when she walked in. She gave them a tentative smile before standing in line behind them.
But damnit. She felt awkward now. And why did they keep glancing back and staring at her? Did she have something on her face??
To break the ice (and stop the weird staring) she stuck her hand out and offered it to the waiting person. They stared at her hand as if they had never seen one before.
“Hi! I’m Elisha Mckenzie!”
Why did she say her full name, that was the stupidest thing she could’ve done, for all she knew this person could be a cultist-
“Ohh. Are you Thomas’ fiance?” Her cheeks flushed immediately when she realized the creepiness of her inquiry.
Elisha’s instincts were screaming. She was teetering between saying the more polite, How on earth do you know my name and my fiance? Or the blunt, What the actual fuck? None of these questions actually exited her mouth. Instead she said something along the lines of, “How- what- are-’
“Okay, look,” The girl hurriedly went on to explain her strange accusation, and Elisha didn’t care if she was interrupted, as long as she could hear her. “I’m friends- well, sort of friends, I mean- I knew Thomas from college, you know demonology? Anyway, I’mnotstalkingyouIpromise, just you know, Tyrone hangs out with me on date night and so I kinda know you? Indirectly, though?” There was a faint tinge of red on her cheeks from her bubbly explanation.
“Oh. Tyrone. That explains a lot. Sorry for jumping to conclusions. What’s your name?”
“I’m Elisabeth. Elisabeth Adams,” the girl said. Her hand flew up. Elisha thought that she would offer to shake it, but instead, her hand held a card.
“My card. In case you need something to be exorcised, killed or abolished. Helping with problematic demons is what I do. Or you know, when Tyrone gets particularly annoying.”
“Thanks, I’ll, uh, call you if I need you?”
The girl nodded, still a bit flustered. “Sure. See you around, I guess.”
Elisha walked out of the office, forgetting to take her mail. But she couldn’t help but feel but lighter than from before she stepped in.
She almost closed the door before opening it again to ask Elisabeth a question.
“Oh hey, just wondering, are you and Tyrone a thing? I mean, you said something about a ‘date night,’ so-”
Judging from the girl’s exhasparated expression, she could easily tell that the answer was no.
----
ELISABETH HAD PLENTY OF FRIENDS.
She was NOT lonely.
Still. After meeting that girl, she couldn't help but feel that she’d made a friend.
Maybe Elisha would call her later.
----
You have two options.
You aren’t going like them.
Fine. I'll tell you.
Your soul is being ripped from you. And well, me, because I own it. After this is done- I'm probably going to have a power fissure.
I’ll get to the point. Sorry.
I can take your life, in exchange for your soul to be returned to you. I’ll still own it, but your soul will be working and whole. You will reincarnate. You will live again.
But yes. You will die.
This is the only way.
I don't want it to be like this, either, Mabel!
Mabel is no one. Don't worry about who she is. I'm sorry I called you
I called you that… for reasons. They aren't important. My prime concern is saving your life.
Am I mad?
Oh, that's a funny question.
See you soon, Mizar.
Don't worry about him. From him, they’ll be HELL TO PAY for what he’s do-
I have to do it now
HE’S destRoyIng yoUR soUL
Please- stop this-
DON’t yoU GEt iT
YoU’Re KILLinG heR
AnD Me
G Oo D
By e
-S U P E R N O V A-
-I'm so sorry
----
RADIO INTERCEPT FROM NASA DATABASE
ADMINISTRATOR: Jenkins, Dale
ASTRONAUT: Gray, Lucy
TIME: 23:01:04, 05, 06...
-Houston, we have a problem.
-That’s never a good sign. What seems to be the issue?
-And that’s not a very professional way to answer the space phone, Jenkins. Be careful there.
-Yeah, yeah. Well you don’t exactly seem like the type to have a real problem if you’re bothering to waste time ridiculing my professionalism.
-Fair enough.
-The, issue, Gray?
-Right. Not a huge matter. Just wanted to inform base that twin Mizar has gone nova. It’s not in our path. Just thought I should tell nasa. Wondering if hydrogen might possibly affect our reactors.
-...Did you just say that Mizar went nova?
-I know it’s weird. It happened all at once, too. Base should be getting hold of explosion in T minus three seconds.
-I guess that explains why Hode is practically screaming next to me. Satellite readings must’ve just come in. Will keep crew posted on effect of the rogue star to the shuttle.
-Roger tha-
-What the?
-What’s wrong? Are the gases problematic?
-Not to you.
-That sounds ominous. What’s going on down there?
-The gases...they’re moving..
-Where? Where are they moving?
-A little patch of Oregon..Hang on, checking Hode’s system…
-And?
-Oh come on.
-Hurry it up. The suspense is going to kill me faster than the lack of oxygen up here.
-Goddamnit. It’s in Gravity Freaking Falls… of all the places-
-What are they doing?
-I’m not sure exactly. But from Hode’s summarizing… Nothing good.
-What’s he saying?
-That the gases from the star’s explosion are mingling with magic. Of demonic origin. And forming a barrier around the falls. No one can get in or out.
-....
-The people. They’re trapped.
----
-MiCor5eva has joined-
MiCor5eva: Hi everybody!!!!!!!!!!!
Reidorread: The next time you use that many exclamation points in a sentence is the moment I will kill you.
MiCor5eva: That’s my little ray of sunshine.
Reidorread: Please just change your username before you get beat up. Please.
42frank24: Can I get an Amen?
___Dope___: nah son, MiCor for LIFE!
___Dope___: Hey MiCor, can I get a virtual high five pretty plz
MiCor5eva: *high-five*
___Dope___: So, let’s get on with like the real stuff
Reidorread: Not Twin Souls. Please.
___Dope___: No I’m being for real tho
___Dope___: Did u hear about that thing happening in Oregon
___Dope___: Like Mizar just eXPLODed!! And basically the gases are kinda heading for the falls lol
___Dope___: That town gets too much shit XD
Reidorread: lmao im there now
___Dope___: damn r u really???
Reidorread: It’s kinda sketchy, there’s this bubble headed right for us
Reidorread: IT’s like rainbow haha
Reidorread: Wait fuck
Reidorread: SHiT IM FUCKeD SomeOne THe THINGS SWALLOWINg PEOPLE SOMEONE HELp aklefhklsdahfas
MiCor5eva: Are you OK?
-Reidorread has left-
___Dope___: What just happened?
----
THOMAS WAS CHASING A HORDE OF GNOMES.
His story will be heard later. Of how this crazy thing happened.
There are several things that Thomas knows about what is going on:
Gnomes live in packs.
They have currently captured Eduardo.
Unfortunately, he does not know many things. And not knowing could be a fatal mistake.
The things he does not know:
He is on the barrier of Gravity Falls.
There is a unknown magic source in the epicenter of the city.
The magic is blooming. And it is forming a barrier.
This barrier ensures no one can enter.
Or leave.
Inside the bubble lies the mindscape of demonic origin.
It is still blooming.
He is headed right towards it.
He is now in the bubble’s grasp.
He may never escape.
#transcendence au#taufic#thomas strange#dipper pines#shit just got real#let the angst commence#This is only the beginning of the conflict sorry#gravity falls
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