#it was good to be able to write something without my uninspired a** messing it up
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I have the big writer’s block so I don’t have much but uhhh how about some good ol fashioned squad fluff with ray and the kids?
OKAY I HAD THIS ALL TYPED OUT AND IT WAS PERFECT BUT THEN MY LAPTOP FREAKING REFRESHED THE PAGE AND I LOST IT. HHHHHH
I hope I remember it well enough
(I feel that writer’s block frustration. It’s a mcfreakin’ pain in the butt, my dude.)
I made it a little goofy as well as fluffy bc I really like the comedic dynamic of HD. I hope you like it!!!! :)))))
I just got back from a beach trip, so let’s go with that
it’s summer in Swellview and it’s crazy hot
that summer heat is taking no prisoners
Ray is down in the Man Cave and everytime the elevator opens up, it lets out all the hot and stuffy air from the store
he’s all “no. nope. not happening. I’m here sweating when I could be on the beach sipping from a coconut with one of those frilly umbrellas. this is unacceptable.”
he calls Schwoz and the kids and tells them he’s taking them on a spontaneous beach trip
he says he wants them to come with bc he doesn’t want to be alone and look like a creep
but it’s really bc he enjoys their company and wants them to have fun
he sends the kids home to get ready while he closes shop
“Can Piper come?” “Who’s Piper?” “My little sister, Ray.” “Aw, no. Is she that little loud girl?” “I guess she can be loud? Anyway, can she come or not?” “I feel like saying ‘not’ would make me a bad person but I really don’t want to say yes….” “Come on, man.” “UuuuuUUUggggGGGGhhhHHH fine. Paper can come.”
they all pile into Ray’s car
the ride there is a bit chaotic bc the beach is 45 min away and the car is cramped and it’s hot and no one can agree on a radio station to listen to
“Henry, I’m not going to say it again. Move. Over.” “Piper, I’m not even touching you.” “You’re about to touch me.” “Are you kidding me?” “No, I’m not.” “Where do you want me to move? There’s only so many seats in the car.” “I don’t care. I can feel the heat coming from your gross body.” “Okay, I’m not gross, for one, and I would scoot over if Jasper would get in his seat.”
“I already told you I can’t be by the window. I get carsick.” “Then why did you choose the window seat?” “Because I get claustrophobic in the middle seat.”
“Henry, I’m gonna kill him.” Char overhears and intervenes. “Hey, Piper, why don’t you sit with me on the way back?”
Ray heard all of their bickering, so he rolled the top down to cool them all off
as soon as they got to the beach, Schwoz shot out of the car blurting out something about having to pee
Ray packed food from the auto-snacker (sandwiches, chips, fruit, etc.–things he thought the kids would like), so he grabs the ice chests full of food/drink while the kids get their stuff
there isn’t too many people on the beach, so they don’t have a problem finding a quiet spot
Char x Piper get Hen to take pics of them right where the waves meet the sand
Piper posts them with captions like “beach day with my best-ay” and some lyrics about summer
she even takes a few with Hen for their parents
Jasper brought wayyyyy too much sunscreen
“I don’t joke about my skin care. Skin cancer is not a joke. Do you think I maintain this ivory color by not using sunscreen?”
Piper agrees with him bc she’s fair-skinned too
Hen doesn’t like it too much bc he doesn’t like how it feels, but it beats sunburn
Ray, however, won’t use it.
“I’m indestructible. The sun is no match for me.” “It’s literally a ball of fire in the sky.” “Psh. I’ve had worse.”
the kids don’t agree with him, but they know arguing is futile so they let it go
Hen brought a beach ball and some paddles with a matching little ball
the Harts used to go to the beach a lot, so Hen had a lot of stuff to choose from
he and Piper team up like they used to when they were younger and together they are un-beatable
like
no one else wins. at all.
they have this ridiculous handshake/victory dance they do every time they win and it’s so over-the-top (like Ross x Monica’s new years dance routine for you friends fans)
even Ray thinks it’s a bit much
Char x Jasp have no idea what to think
they’ve never seen Hen like this
“I always thought Piper was the scary one.” “I know. Did you see Hen’s face when I scored a point?” “He looked like he was going to kill you.” “Yeah, and Piper looked like she was going to help him get rid of any evidence.”
(I like that little ride or die sibling bit ajksjslksj)
Schwoz comes back from the restroom and Ray scoops him up, running to the water to throw the little man in
everyone joins in
the tide is pretty rough and Ray’s a little worried
esp for Char and Schwoz and whatever her name is bc they’re all pretty short
Hen is chasing Jasp x Piper, pretending to be Jaws
a pretty big wave comes and washes over all of them
Hen x Jasp are okay bc they could just easily stand up but Piper is a lot shorter
Hen starts freaking out when she doesn’t come up
Ray is worried too
he sees the little girl and immediately yanks her out of the water and into the air
“Paper! Paper! Are you okay???”
she swallowed a good bit of nasty saltwater that burned her throat/nose, but she’s okay
“It’s Piper.”
Hen sighs in relief, moving the hair out of her face. “She’s fine.”
they take a break from the water for a bit to eat lunch
Ray unpacks the food he brought for them
Hen x Jasp eat their lunch on an inflatable unicorn inner tube :)
Piper takes some more pics of the gang eating
she records a snapchat video of Hen being attacked by a swarm of seagulls after his sandwich
he takes off down the beach after them but gives up, hoping the birds at least enjoy it as much as he did
he doesn’t bother asking Pipes to delete it bc he knows she won’t
after lunch Hen x Char go off alone to collect seashells
Hen finds a really pretty spiral shell to give to his mom
Jasper tries to get Ray to at least put on a little sunscreen, but Ray is still being ridiculous
Piper is flying a kite, but Schwoz keeps pestering her about using a new device he created that’s supposed to make the kite fly ten times higher
she lets him do it just to shut him up, but it goes wrong
the string gets cut, and her favorite kite flies away just like the birds did with Hen’s sandwich
she’s furious
Ray jumps between them just in time
a second later and Schwoz would be pummeled
“Look, Paper, I know he’s an idiot, but I kind of need him, so if you could just not kill him, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Its. Piper.”
Hen x Char return from collecting shells and everyone gets back in the water
he won’t let Piper go out in water that reaches any higher than her stomach (she put up a fight but she agreed, not wanting to drink anymore disgusting water)
Jasp x Hen played a game where they’d wait for a big wave and then turn around so that they could fall backwards into it
a fish brushed against Schwoz’ leg, and he tried to jump up on Char to get out of the water
she just dropped him so the he ended up going under right where there was a school of fish
Ray let Char x Piper get on his back so he could tow them around
he also picked them up so he could toss them into the water (playfully, of course)
a fish nibbled Jasper’s foot, and he wanted to catch it so he could bring it home as a pet
no one could catch it, and there was no way of telling which fish it was
Hen got a pretty gnarly sting from a jellyfish, so they all decided it was time to get out of the water
the sun was beginning to set anyway so the others weren’t too upset about getting out
there was still some food left over from lunch, so Ray made a little campfire and they all ate a light dinner
they watched the sun dip down below the horizon line
the sky turned dark
Ray reached behind his back and pulled out a surprise: s’mores
Hen’s leg was still hurting so Ray handed the s’more fixings to Piper
“Here, Piper. Why don’t you make one for Henry?”
she just stared at him, shocked that he had used her real name for the first time
she didn’t say anything
she just took the food from Ray and made her brother a s’more just the way she knew he liked it: marshmallow extra crispy, chocolate extra gooey, and graham cracker as is
Ray smiled to himself, knowing Piper’s reaction was bc he’d remembered her name
he didn’t call any attention to it though, knowing neither of them wanted that
they ate their s’mores in comfortable silence
Char noticed Schwoz was smiling mischieviously
“Schwooooooz…..why are you making that face?”
he just giggled and produced a small guitar from behind his back
everyone groaned
“What? What? Why the not happy sounds?” Ray just rolls his eyes. “Because, Schwoz, no one wants to hear you play.” “Why? What’s wrong with my tunes?” “Your ‘tunes’ sound like a dying cat.” “So does your singing, but I never tell you you can’t.”
he plays anyway and…he’s actually…..really….good???
“Schwoz, where’d you learn to play like that?” “I had lessons.” “When? You never leave the Man Cave?” “………from Lelani….”
Char keeps Ray from jabbing Schwoz with his hot s’mores stick
Schwoz keeps strumming away while they all sit around the campfire, listening to it crackling, listening to the waves crashing against the shore, watching the light flicker on everyone’s faces, watching the smoke from the fire rise up the the stars
the kids almost fell asleep, but Ray got them up and in the car, deciding it was time to go home
he let them get seated while he packed everything up
the kids did fall asleep on the drive home
Ray kept the hood down so the cool night breeze makes its way to everyone
he finds an alternative station that’s playing a slow, soft, hypnotic song that’s perfect for night drives
he keeps checking on everyone in his rear view mirror and smiles big when he sees them all sleeping soundly in the same seating arrangements that had caused problems before
Hen x Piper are leaning against each other when they’d been complaining about being too close before
Jasp is propped against the window, no longer needing to worry about getting car sick since he’s sleeping
Char even let Schwoz use her as a makeshift pillow despite the fact that he drools
Ray turned the radio up a little bit
he drove on under the yellow street lights in the quiet night, listening to the quiet pulsing song, feeling perfectly content and happy
it had been a good day
bonus:
Ray wakes up the next morning and screams at the top of his lungs
he’s as red as a stop sign
he got sunburned after all (just as everyone else knew he would)
“Sun: 1 Ray: 0″
#thank you for always coming through when I ask for hcs or requests#you are the best ryker#i hope you liked this!!!!#i enjoyed it so much#it was good to be able to write something without my uninspired a** messing it up#headcanon#henry danger#henry hart#piper hart#jasper dunlop#charlotte bolton#ray manchester#schwoz schwartz#mine#em writes#request#hd ask
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X-Men Abridged: 1979
The X-Men, those globe-trotting mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!
(X-Men 117 - 128, X-Man Annual 3) - by Chris Claremont and John Byrne, Terry Austin, George Perez
See Jean? Dark Phoenix is nothing: this is how you turn evil properly. (X-Men 123)
So, these things have been getting longer. Whoops.
Last year, plotlines tended to bleed over in one another, but this year is a lot more arc-based, jumping from location to location. This is basically X-Men: World Tour. After hitting Antarctica and the Savage Land, our team of merry mutants visits Japan, Canada, Egypt, Scotland and even a theme park! (And really, both Murder World and Disney Land are run by capitalist scumbags who pretend to be in it for the art, the only difference being that Arcade purposefully murders his guests.)
But, before we check in with the X-Men, we return to the Institute. See, there’s a mutual misunderstanding that wouldn’t be out of place in a Shakespearian tragedy: Jean and Charles think Beast and Jean were the only survivors of their fight with Magneto in Antarctica, while the rest of the X-Men believe they were the only survivors and Jean and Beast perished. Since the X-Men have been trapped in the Savage Land, nobody has been able to clear up the confusion.
With their grief driving a wedge between her and Charles, Jean leaves the mansion to deal with her feelings on her own. (She’ll end up on Muir Isle.)
This is adorable! And, if the whole "Empress of the known Universe "-thing blows up in her face, she can always become a barista at Starbucks. (X-Men 117)
Lilandra successfully persuades Xavier to leave Earth as her consort, now that there is nothing left for him. Xavier agrees, but not before having a flashback to the time he met another telepath named Amahl Farouk in Egypt. (The Shadow King isn’t relevant just yet, but he’ll become an important villain later on.)
The X-Men, meanwhile, cross a treacherous ocean on a raft and are picked up by a Japanese vessel. The Japanese do not allow them to call anyone, for some reason. Sure. When they finally dock in Japan - six weeks later - some arms dealer named Magnum Moses has put Agarishima is on fire. Like, literally an inferno of such big proportions that even Storm can’t do much.
What follows is an uninspired, slipshod adventure. For some reason, Misty Knight and Colleen Wing are there too, because the president needed American detectives to investigate Magnum Moses (?) and for some reason, Misty doesn’t know Jean thinks Scott is dead, nor does she mention she just saw Jean to Scott. AUGH. It will take almost a year for Scott to figure out Jean isn’t dead and it becomes increasingly more contrived. I get that Claremont needed to isolate Jean to make her susceptible to, er, a certain someone’s machinations, but holy fuck do I have to suspend my disbelief for all of this bullshit.
The only good things about this little arc are:
Sunfire is still a dick.
Wolverine meets Mariko Yashida, a Japanese girl who actually reciprocates his feelings, as opposed to Jean. I’ve mostly been ignoring his budding feelings for Jean, because I stopped finding love triangles interesting since I was 16 and watched The OC, so I can only applaud this development. Mariko brings out Wolverine’s soft side and it’s very adorable. Later on, she moves to NYC for some reason and they start dating.
There is something sweetly disarming about calling Wolverine ‘beautiful’. (X-Men 120)
Anyway, Magnum is holding Japan hostage: either they give him what he wants - I think that might be money, sorry, wasn't paying attention - or he sinks Japan by activating the fault lines and you guys, I am sooo bored. Unsurprisingly, the X-Men stop him and for once, it’s Banshee who gets to play the most important part.
It’s a good thing I was terrible at science, otherwise I might have to point out that earthquakes and sonic waves don’t work that way! I simply get to be entertained by little rascal Colossus, plugging his ears like a toddler, and Sunfire’s gritty determination to not be impressed by some silly screaming Irishman. (X-Men 119)
Banshee pays a steep price for the victory, however: his vocal chords end up damaged, leaving him effectively powerless for the remainder of the year.
Oh, and here’s interesting fact about the above spread: you may or may not know that Chris Claremont and John Byrne were notoriously terrible at working together; this issue became a particular sore point between the creators. See, Byrne wanted to run the above panel without the sound of ‘Kra-Koom’, believing the art was strong enough to convey the destruction. He was livid when the finished product ended up containing a sound effect after all. I get your frustration, man, but if you want a writer who knows how to say less with more, you should maybe not work with Claremont?
(One of the reasons Claremont liked being so verbose and descriptive in his scripts was because otherwise, the artist would fill in the blanks using his own imagination. It’s no wonder these two found it hard to work together.)
On the flight to the US of A, Colleen Wing hits on Cyclops. It has to be the jawline, right? It can’t be the personality. All of a sudden, a snow storm causes their plane to be diverted to Calgary. The cause of this delay is Alpha Flight, who want their Wolverine back!
When even the narration is all “and they think they’re equal to any team of superheroes”, you know you’re a bunch of C-listers. Ugh. (X-Men 121)
Vindicator, previously known as Captain Alpha. He changed his name after accidentally shooting Moira that one time, which is exactly the kind of hollow gesture this dude would make. Ugh. If you think his new-found remorse won’t let him threaten an airplane chock full of innocent passengers, you would be wrong.
Shaman, doctor by day, magic user by night. Him and his magical little pouch are to blame for the snow storm.
Sasquatch, Canada’s answer to the Hulk. (Hilariously, the theory on why he turns furry instead of green is because he’s closer to the Aurora Borealis and this somehow messes with the radiation?)
Snowbird, a young Arctic goddess. Precious. To be cherished. Barely there for this adventure, sadly.
Northstar, an arrogant, hot-headed speedster, the twin brother of
Aurora, a lover, not a fighter. Together, they have light powers.
Vindicator and Shaman hog most of the spotlight, so Alpha Flight continues to be the ever-loving worst. They’re really wasting Northstar’s first appearance here. Here's why they suck:
Alpha Flight accidentally smashes a plane and keeps threatening to drag Wolverine back to the military against his will.
They push the cover price of the comic to a whoppin’ 40 cents.
Johnny fuckin’ Hudson even provokes Storm into an attack in the middle of a mall.
Shaman lets his blizzard get out of control.
After Storm fixes this mistake for him, Northstar has the gall to knock her out, “because she’s obviously the strongest”. Like, you’re not wrong, but damn, y’all a bunch of unpleasant superheroes.
To stop the fight, Wolverine decides to turn himself in. The X-Men leave, but while flying back, they already make plans to save their teammate. Wolverine saves them the trouble, casually sauntering into the cockpit while claiming that pulling a fast one on them was the easiest thing ever.
To be fair, I understand why you’d want to put a country between yourself and those bozos.
And finally, the X-Men are home! Xavier left them the equivalent of a Post-It saying “off to space”, so they try to pick up their life as best they can. None of them contact Jean’s parents, make an attempt to visit her grave or happen to see Beast on TV and by now, my suspension of disbelief is stretched so far that it could replace Reed Richards on the Fantastic Four.
Ororo, meanwhile, makes a little pilgrimage to Harlem, to the building she grew up in before she moved to Cairo.
I have failed you as a recapper, because I have absolutely no idea how to parse this scene. (X-Men 122)
I think I’d have to write a full-on thesis before I could properly analyse this, because so many things intersect here: poverty and racism, the boundaries of a superhero comic, confronting a (shared) past. I can’t even fully gauge if this is a clumsy, privileged attempt at tackling a serious topic or rather, a valuable moment in a comic that continually tries to expand on its themes of racism, exclusion and prejudice. One thing I will note is:
Luke Cage delivers the sort of trite conclusion that they’re superheroes: they’re better at fighting Galactus than at fixing the human condition. Point is, he kind of has to believe that, doesn’t he? It’s the sort of blind spot we all permit ourselves: you can’t fix everything. None of us have the power to fix the earth, or humanity, or the economy, or whatever: if you’re lucky, you can maybe tend to your own garden and leave it better than you found it, ensuring some happiness for yourself and a few loved ones.
Chasing bank robbers is easy. Superhero stuff. But here? Who do you attack here? These kids, or the system that failed them? You can’t really punch a needle exchange into being. Maybe that’s the appeal of superhero comics: there’s a clear villain, which is so sorely lacking in our day to day lifes. There, we are ruled by systems that are rooted in inequality, patriarchy, gender...
But Storm isn’t like Luke Cage, not in this regard. Before she became an X-Man, she used her powers to help people that came to her. And the whole point of the X-Men - other than beating up villains in colorful spandex - is that they want to change the system. They want to fix things, they want to fix a dark part of human nature, the part that hates which we fear.
Storm doesn’t really respond to Luke Cage here, but we know she’ll keep fighting the good fight, despite insurmountable odds. You can’t fix mankind, I don’t think, but you can sure as hell try.
*coughs*
Anyway!
Black Tom and Juggernaut hire Arcade… to kill the X-Men! I’m not sure why? I thought these two usually attempted to solve things on their own and Arcade’s fee is, like, a million bucks, so…? Maybe Black Tom asked his boyfriend what he wanted for his birthday and Juggernaut clenched his fists and said “I WANT THE X-MEN DEAD” and things escalated from there.
So, Arcade is a subtle villain. While Scott and Colleen Wing are on a date, this happens:
I can’t decide which is funnier: kidnapping people by sneaking up on them with A GARBAGE TRUCK or the fact that Spider-Man deduces this is Arcade’s doing by the noise alone. (X-Men 123)
Spider-Man doesn’t really figure into the rest of the plot, by the way.
Arcade successfully kidnaps all of the X-Men (and their dates: Colleen, Amanda and Betsy). Who is this Arcade? Well, he is an assassin who lets his victims run through a gauntlet of some sort, testing them with potentially deadly results in his Murderworld. He’s like a discount-combo of Saw and the Joker, except a lot less competent and a lot more spoiled rich kid. He barely kills anyone, ever, until maaaybe Avengers Arena, some forty years later.
Arcade veers heavily to the silly side of the silly-to-sinister scale, but he at least commits to a theme. Bonus is that trapping your heroes in a bunch of ricocheting balls fubars them ever-so beautifully. (X-Men 123)
This whole adventure is very silly and has very little bearing on the overarching plot, but it’s a fun enough romp: Cyclops nearly gets squashed by a hydraulic press, Nightcrawler gets attacked by bumper cars with chain saws attached to them, stuff like that. The absolute best part is when Colossus is hypnotized by an illusion of the KGB and becomes THE PROLETARIAN.
His insignia is Vladimir Lenin, y’all.
After various shenanigans, everybody is freed from their respective booby traps, everyone except Colossus. See, Piotr has been feeling down, torn between the exciting new loyalty to the X-Men and the more dutiful loyalty to his family and his motherland. (Also, he’s been feeling like a failure because he came up short a couple a times, aw.) Those feelings are exactly what Arcade has been abusing, but when Colossus comes in for the kill, Storm gives the most heartfelt plea:
I’m not crying, you’re crying. (X-Men 124)
Arcade’s all: “Eh, can’t win ‘em all” and yeets the X-Men out of Murderworld. The story has barely any other repercussions, except we stop seeing Colleen Wing and Betsy (Piotr’s date) after this. To be fair, being kidnapped by a super villain is a good reason to stop seeing someone.
Even more inconsequential is the adventure in the Annual. The only important thing to glean from there is that, when Thor is unavailable, Storm is a suitable substitution. Couldn’t agree more.
The quality of the comic has been steadily ascending throughout the year and ends on a supremely high note: Proteus. Because I think it might be Claremont’s best work so far, I’ll be dedicating a full post to that. (Man, that 10-picture-limit is a real bummer, huh?)
Ugliest Costume: I don’t care, I just want someone to cosplay the Proletarian.
Best new character: There’s actually a few options - Snowbird, Northstar, Proteus - but both Jean-Paul and Narya don’t really show their best sides this year, so I’m going in a different direction. My pick is the Shadow King. He is a very effective foil to Xavier, perhaps even moreso than Magneto. I know I rag on Xavier and his cavalier attitude to bending others to his will a lot, but imagine if you had his powers: wouldn’t you just make people do whatever you want? Just, like, all the time? The Shadow King is an effective reminder of what Charles would have been like, had he been immoral. (Well, more immoral.)
No matter how cool your psychic battle may be, this is what it looks like to the rest of the world. (X-Men 117)
Turns evil: Colossus, for the first time!
What to read: 117, 125 - 129.
#abridged x-men#x-men abridged#cyclops#phoenix#storm#colossus#wolverine#banshee#nightcrawler#Terry Austin#George Perez#chris claremont#john byrne#arcade#colleen wing#luke cage#lilandra#mariko yashida#the shadow king#alpha flight#sunfire#vindicator#snowbird#aurora#northstar#shaman#sasquatch#professor x
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Under Pastel Skies - 2
Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.
Word Count: 2,024
Warnings: none
A/N: I’m just going to remind you that this sugar daddy fic isn’t about smut. I love smut but it’s not what I’m focusing on here.
Bucky stood under the glass awning in front of the hotel, the neon green light illuminating the path to the automatic doors. He forced his eyes closed and listened to the sound of rain hitting the glass shelter.
It was just after 6:30 in the morning and he had been standing there for over ten minutes, trying to work up the courage to enter the building. He was sweating, trembling, breathing like he’d just run a marathon. Every sound around him seemed amplified; cars honking, people talking or listening to music. It was hell.
He desperately wanted to take a cab ride back to Brooklyn and hide in his apartment. Bucky had a strict routine -get up at six, eat, shave, shower, go for a walk, etc- and he needed it to keep his mind focused and his body healthy. Though lately, his therapist had encouraged him to stray from his routine if he felt like it. And he wanted to, but his body wasn’t cooperating.
Instead he just stood here, stuck between two choices that terrified him. He could go back home and hate himself for taking the ‘easy way out’, or he could take the plunge and enter the building. He had come here on a whim, but now that he was here he felt as if he really needed to see you. He didn’t even know if you were working.
He looked over his shoulder, he could almost see the metaphorical pack of wolves waiting for him. It would be easy to give in and let them take him. He could go back to his old life, his old habits, or he could jump off that metaphorical cliff and hope for the best.
Your chances are infinite. Anything can happen.
“Can I help you, sir?”
Bucky greeted the receptionist with a smile. He asked if he could have breakfast at the hotel restaurant and she agreed before leading him to the Bar Lounge.
The room was large, with row after row of square tables perfectly aligned. There were a few more private seats close to the bar and an oval buffet in the middle of the room. A woman in a dark grey suit scooped a small portion of scrambled eggs onto her plate next to two slices of toasted white bread. She raised her gaze to his and nodded in greeting.
The swing door that led to the kitchen burst open and Bucky turned his attention to the sound. You were carrying a large tank of orange juice to the buffet table, a pen tucked behind your ear and a piece of paper between your lips. There was a slight furrow between your brows as you set the tank on the table.
Your scuffed boots were gone, replaced by black ballet flats. Your pencil skirt rose up as you stretched to reach the highest part of the buffet. Bucky hastily looked away from your bare legs, not wanting to look like a total creep. Once you were done, you smoothed down your skirt and tucked your white shirt into your skirt.
Your hair was brushed away from your face and your lips were painted red, something dark and empowering, and it contrasted beautifully with your strict, uninspiring uniform, which only intended to erase any sense of individuality.
“Hi, how can I h- Hey, I know you,” you said, approaching him. “You’re Bucky.”
He bashfully looked at his shoes. “Yeah, hi.” He cleared his throat and raised his gaze to yours. “I was hoping to run into you. I, uh, I can’t stop thinking about our talk.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I was rude and brusque, and you were incredibly nice. I really feel like an ass.”
You chuckled. “It’s fine. Honestly, I was nervous, too. You should have seen me –I was a complete mess.”
“Could have fooled me,” he replied with a grin. “Though you did say that meeting me was like choosing between a pack of wolves or jumping off a cliff.”
“Gosh!” You facepalmed. “See? A complete mess!” You gestured to the table behind you. “Have you eaten yet? Sit down, it’s on me.” He opened his mouth to protest but you cut him off. “You paid for the taxi. It’s only fair.”
Amused, he shook his head and followed you to the buffet table. Everything looked and smelled delicious. He spotted several glass cereal dispensers filled with frosted flakes, Cap'n Crunch, Lucky Charms and good old Fruit Loops.
“We also have French toasts, pancakes, croissants, turnovers, omelettes, eggs, four different types of bread with margarine, butter, jam, Nutella, or marmalade,” you said without pausing for a breath, “freshly sliced fruits, a variety of yogurts, granola, oatmeal, orange juice, apple juice, Danish pastries, muffins and a great selection of teas.”
“And that’s it?” Bucky asked, his face breaking into a teasing smile. You liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners right before he smiled.
You pouted your lips while you thought. “Actually no, we also have scrambled eggs –which, frankly, I don’t recommend. They come in a plastic bag and we have to heat them up in the microwave. It’s a little gross. You can try the sausage and bacon though, unless you don’t eat meat.”
“And coffee?” He found your flustered reaction to his teasing absolutely adorable.
“Yes, of course,” you said, biting your bottom lip. “Sorry, I get a little excited sometimes.”
“I understand,” he nodded. “That’s a pretty great buffet, though I’ll stay clear of the scrambled eggs.”
You took a few steps toward the kitchen and turned back to him, a little apologetic cringe on your face. “Um, how do you take your coffee? Expresso, Americano, latte, cappuccino, macchiato, mocha, ristretto-” you paused to take a breath “-or iced coffee?”
A laugh bubbled out of him. He couldn’t help it, you were just too endearing. “Black,” he said, grinning. “I know I’m boring.”
“Oh, no! You’re not boring,” you rushed to say, then realized what he was doing. “Ugh, you’re messing with me, aren’t you?”
“A little.” His nose scrunched up as he said it.
You went to the kitchen to make his cup of coffee and Bucky began to browse the length of the buffet table. Scooping food onto his plate with only one hand proved more challenging than he expected, and he was glad that the lounge was mostly empty.
He could feel the lady in the grey suit’s eyes on him as he moved around. He set his plate on the bar, removed the glass lid, scooped up two hefty pancakes and stacked them on his plate. They looked pretty fluffy, it wouldn’t be hard to cut them with the edge of a fork. Then he replaced the lid and moved his plate closer to the maple syrup bottle.
He glanced at the woman who hastily looked away as if she hadn’t been staring at him the whole time. Annoyed, he kept looking at her while he poured maple syrup over his pancakes. He hated when people stared at him as if he were a freak. He narrowed his eyes menacingly and grinned to himself when she started fidgeting in her seat.
“You must really love maple syrup.”
Bucky paused at the sound of your voice, his features immediately softened. He looked down at his plate and realised he had drowned his pancakes in a gooey river of maple syrup. He must have spaced out during his staring contest with the business woman.
He had a strange look in his eyes, his expression a mix of confusion and anguish. Finally his eyes found yours and you smiled warmly at him, making him fight back a blink. You pried the bottle out of his rigid hand, and he let you take it.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice weak.
You weren’t sure what he was apologizing for but it wasn’t something you were going to analyse right now. “There’s a cup of coffee waiting for you. Best cup in Manhattan.”
He laughed, the crinkles were back. “You’re an angel.”
Bucky returned to his table and loaded his coffee with three teaspoons of sugar before he took a sip. He had always preferred sweet to savoury, and coffee was way too bitter for him.
There wasn’t much to do in the lounge. The television was behind him, the sound kept to a minimum. The lady in the grey suit left soon after and Bucky watched you clean her table.
You moved back and forth between the main room and the kitchen, going about your work and occasionally shooting him a smile. The food was good, not spectacular, but still better than his usual breakfast –two slices of toasted white bread with butter and a cup of coffee.
“Do you need anything else?” you asked, standing next to his table.
“Company?” he said with a hopeful look. “Please.”
You offered him a pained grimace when he gestured at the seat across from him. “I’m not allowed to sit. Sorry.”
It was hard to resist his puppy dog eyes but you needed to keep your job if you wanted to be able to afford your own place.
“Do you like working here?”
“It’s okay,” you shrugged. “I’m glad I have a job.”
“Sam mentioned you’re an artist.”
You shyly looked around you, you were the only two people in the room now. “I haven’t painted since I got this job,” you revealed. “I’m pretty sure my artist membership card has been cancelled.”
“Nope, those are for life.”
You laughed. “I hope so.”
You looked at each other before he asked, “Do you have any pictures of your work?”
You were genuinely surprised that someone wanted to see your work. Usually people offered a half-hearted ‘oh, that nice. I paint, too, occasionally” and changed the subject. You patted your pockets, searching for your phone, and groaned when you remembered that it was in your locker.
“I don’t have my phone with me but wait-” You took a napkin from the table and started writing. “This is my Instagram. I do a bit of everything, mostly landscapes and portraits.”
Bucky took the piece of paper and, before he could comment, a family of four walked into the lounge area. You apologized to him and walked over to the family, greeting them with a smile and asking them if they had a good night’s sleep.
The children looked like walking zombies until they spotted the cereal bar, and then chaos ensued. More people went down to breakfast and you didn’t have time to chat with him anymore.
He stayed a little longer, watching you help the kids pour cereal and milk into their bowls. A man who didn’t speak English very well asked you a question and you froze, trying to make him understand since you didn’t speak his language. Bucky smiled when you mimed the answer. The man laughed and gave you a thumb’s up.
There was something about you, something soft and caring, that made people at ease. Even when people started complaining that the platter of scrambled eggs was empty, you defused the situation so smoothly that they left with a smile on their face. It was the kind of person you were, kind-hearted and willing to help.
An angel.
When you looked in his direction again, Bucky was gone. You felt a pang of disappointment that he hadn’t said goodbye, but you had been so busy that even if he had been trying to get your attention, chances are you wouldn’t have noticed him.
Pouting exaggeratedly to yourself, you went to his table with your tray and a clean rag to collect the dirty dishes. You moved the unfolded napkin and what you saw underneath made you stop. You blinked, once, twice, three times, certain that you were hallucinating. You scooped up the bills and counted them.
$300
Your eyes were the size of saucers as you ran back to the lobby. You checked outside for Bucky but he was gone. You stood there, under the glass awning, with a bewildered look on your face, still clutching the bills.
Part 3
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#marvel#bucky barnes x reader#marvel imagine#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel imagines#bucky barnes imagine#redgillan#redgillanwrites
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the official ranking of RA photoshoot outfits (pt. 1)
as @dykethorin said when I first proposed doing this particular ranking, “Some real Decisions™️ were made” with these shoots y’all
all photoshoot outfits (for part one) under the cut
the official ranking of Daniel Miller outfits here
the official ranking of Adam Price outfits here
the official ranking of Claude Becker outfits here
guys, I’m crying with laughter
hey quick question: what the fuck was this photoshoot??? (and also I need current RA in these poses)
it’s real nice to see a fun, loosey-goosey RA (before he established himself in the broody-character archetype) but there are so many questionable fashion choices here
when I started this list I had two options:
1) allow some leeway to the older photoshoots because, let’s be real, the early 2000s were an atrocious time for fashion that a lot of us would most rather forget we participated in
2) judge them by today’s standards, which is harsh but some of these outfits deserve it
naturally, I chose option #2
It’s so hard to even pick where to start. the too-loose pants? the ill-fitting suit jacket? The untucked dress shirt that is for some god-forsaken reason undone in two separate directions??
I have chosen one thing that sums the outfit up as a whole: what monster decided to put the shirt collar over the suit jacket????
the jazz hands scream “hey I’m a FUN guy” but the suit screams “I’m the yo-pro asshole at the office who is so unreliable you’re pretty sure some nepotism must surely have had an influence during the hiring process”
I originally said ‘I guess we should be glad there’s no surfer necklace’ but then I had the horrifying realisation that it’s a 50/50 shot as to whether that would improve this outfit or make it worse. and you know when there’s even slimmest chance a surfer necklace could improve an outfit somehow that it’s time to take a good hard look at yourself
1/10 just because this photoshoot made me genuinely laugh out loud
wait I’m sorry, what-
how on god’s green earth is this the same photoshoot (?) as guys, I’m crying with laughter????
the great thing about these lists is that you are getting my genuine reactions as I progress down the images. I had no idea this was the same photoshoot (?) until approximately 10 seconds after writing guys, I’m crying with laughter
this perfectly encapsulates the duality of man – one moment it’s all goofy jazz hands and the next it’s a hunk-of-the-week moment
this man and guys, I’m crying with laughter are the equivalent of looking at pictures of yourself in high school vs. in your 20s/30s/at your prime. the whiplash is insane
and why is he in front of barred windows?? it appears they were afraid of what would happen if this hunk escaped into the general population
I still can’t believe they kept the collar over the suit jacket though
I’m so conflicted guys, the urge to numerically rank this terrible outfit is strong but uh… as per usual shirtless ones aren’t fair/10
revenge of the killer surfer necklace
do you ever look back at a specific moment in time and are so thankful that someone took one tiny action? one small thing they did in the heat of the moment that probably seemed innocuous at the time but had far-reaching consequences? for example, it might something as simple as deciding to take a umbrella on a bright sunny day only for it to be extremely useful on the way home when the weather turns
this is how I feel about the person who decided RA could leave that top button closed for this shoot
if you squint, you can see the surfer necklace under that top button. and thank god you have to squint
this is such an early 2000s look though. that shirt by itself is fine and would actually look killer with a properly fitted suit nowadays. it’s the shirt dress and loose denim look with makes no sense to me
2/10 for a pretty uninspiring early 2000s outfit
revenge of the uh…
from the same shoot as revenge of the killer surfer necklace this loses .1 of a mark for adding a jacket, while pretty innocuous, to an already busy outfit
1.9/10
were we really that afraid of legs?
why were we, as a society, so obsessed with loose, ill-fitting pants? why were we so desperate to conceal legs from the general population? what secrets were we trying to hide? I understand the comfort factor on the hand, but on the other did anyone actually have eyes
the sneakers/suit combo I can definitely live with. but those pants (that I’m convinced must be pyjama pants in another life) turns it all into a sloppy, blurry mess
2.7/10
is it a bird? is it a plane? no, it’s… a floating RA?
what is it about photoshoots in the early 2000s where they just make no damn sense. it’s my opinion that the theme/concept of a shoot should not overshadow the subject, and that’s the correct opinion (as well as being the exact opposite as to what’s happening here)
maybe there was a hint or reason as to why floating wizard RA exists in the article that this shoot presumably came with, but I don’t get it. clearly I’m far too literal of a person and need to embrace my inner artist
looks pretty, still weird
moving on the entire point of this post, the outfit, I uh,… oh god
I’m pretty sure this the same (and similar, if not) outfit RA wore in the North & South behind-the-scenes, and how we as a society went from John Thornton’s stiff collar and top hat to this is amazing
maybe we were so obsessed with period dramas back then because it was a nice alternative to indulge our eyes in when we had to face the harsh, cold reality of modern fashion at the time
anyway – trust me, while I am all for a man in a necklace, let’s pray surfer necklaces never come back 2.9/10
I genuinely was looking up “pinstriped jacket jokes” because I couldn’t think of anything off the top of my head but then I realised I don’t need a joke here because pinstriped jackets are a joke all by themselves
I feel like there may be a situation where pinstriped suit jackets might grow on me, but this is not that situation
also I don’t really know where I stand on the belt, but I certainly think I’m leaning towards the ‘why’ part of the scale. if you’re gonna make a belt that prominent in a photoshoot, at least make it a fun belt
3/10
I’m noticing a trend in these photoshoots and it’s these horrific backgrounds
I will admit that the non-patterned suit jacket is going with the jeans a lot better here. but now that my attention isn’t focused on that, all I can see are the dress shoes. WHY DID YOU PUT DRESS SHOES WITH STRAIGHT-LEGGED JEANS???
please someone I am begging you, can we as a society get to tapered jeans already
3.3/10
did RA genuinely ever get put into any clothes that actually fitted him properly at this point in time?
look, I know I’ve been picking on the bootcut jeans & loose attire that plagued us in the early 2000s (or 2006, to be specific to this photoshoot). what can I say, it’s the low-hanging fruit. or loose-hanging, as the case may be
I do appreciate that rich brown leather jacket and that smile. but that’s where it stops. someone take dress shirts and dress shoes away from bootcut denim PLEASE
3.5/10
this is the bad-boy from your hometown in every rom-com ever
as with well this in an interesting development that I can’t say I disapprove of below, the lower rating is simply because from what we can see, it’s just a plain shirt. however, that dipped v-neck? mm-mmm
look at that smirk. this man knows what he’s doing to us, dammit.
why do you persist in hurting us this way 4/10
well this in an interesting development that I can’t say I disapprove of
god bless the person who said we need this shirt wet and clinging and only half-soaked
I’m so sad that I have to give this such a low ranking because uh… we’ve established I have a weakness for those biceps
this does also get bonus points for the creativity of “only this portion of your shirt needs to be wet for your close-up” but at the end of the day it is a solitary grey t-shirt even if it is floating in an attractive sea of muscles
4.5/10
the photographer really said ‘who gives a crap about the clothes’, huh?
an interesting shirt! but as much as I love RA’s face, we should be able to see more of the shirt (and the outfit) because uh… it’s hard to make a judgement call on a photoshoot outfit without that
also, it’s just so hard to concentrate on some of these with RA staring into my soul like that
*sigh* 4.6/10
hello sir, are you as kinky as your shirt?
this is one of the few occasions on which I will give the bootleg baggy jeans a pass. interesting choice to go shoeless for all outfits in this shoot – but the way the shirt is all crumpled is annoying me an incessant amount. I am begging you, someone pass this stylist an ironing board PLEASE
4.7/10 for a crinkle-cut RA
all that’s missing is the beer cans
I’m not sure of the short sleeves here. I think with the shirt open as well my brain doesn’t know where to look
HOWEVER, this is an RA from the early 2000s that I can get behind – largely because he’s not drowning in his denim
the nice, plain belt which matches with the shirt? excellent
interesting choice to go with the bare feet – this entire look (and the quality of that concrete floor) screams ‘we’re chilling at a summer party in your parent’s basement in the early 2000s’ if not for one thing – that couch is way too nice looking. am I being too pedantic about this? no. If you’re gonna go for the whole basement party look, you need a couch that’s falling apart and has at least one questionable stain on it
that being said, I would hang out in this man’s basement
it’s a shirtless one so once again, I cannot give a numerical answer/10
I’m not sure if this man is dangerous or is just an idiot
they may have been wanting RA to embrace his inner Daniel Miller here but that is NOT a jacket that should have its collar popped or if it is, it definitely should not be popped that much. just turn the intensity of that pop down by… at least 35%
this look is telling me to embrace my inner lacy, ruffled collar that men in England used to wear around the 1500 - 1600s. I hate it and refute it with every part of my soul
this is what happens when you embrace your inner Daniel a little bit too much 5.6/10
the return of the leg monster
not much to say about this except once again we are terrified to put RA’s legs into well-fitted pants. what secrets are hiding underneath those voluminous billows? will we ever know?
5.8/10
the one that crushed my hopes and dreams and then spat on my corpse
so I admit it, I got really excited because I thought that this was a leopard print shirt and I was like “this is something I did NOT know that I needed until right now”, even if I would argue that it could have been nice in a little bit of a brighter colour. no matter, I thought it was a nice subtle addition to this plain suit and was just very excited at the prospect of RA rocking leopard print even though I almost always hate leopard print in single every form it comes in
and then. upon zooming. a disappointing paisley. sorry, paisley lovers. I hate it
I would also argue here that the pocket square would have been nice in a plain, bright colour rather than another patterned item thrown into the mix. come on stylists, stop letting me down with your pocket squares
also if there is a point where a suit can be too shiny, I think we’ve found it. I could wax floors with that fabric and I’d rather be thinking about RA’s talent & good looks rather than imagining him being used as a human mop
the hand porn is uh… strong with this one 6/10
the hand porn one
the ring is a nice subtle touch but I can’t decide where I stand on this tie. for me, the checks are just a *wee* tad too small. so small that it I’m scared it will turn into one of those optical illusions with a number in it if I stare at it the tie for too long
the pocket square could also have not tried so hard to blend in with the rest of the suit jacket. give me some colour, baby!
Richard really needs to put his hand down so I can actually concentrate on the clothes 6.5/10
I’m just dotty for this one (I’m so sorry y’all)
so suave. so shiny. I wanna stroke that fabric so bad, it looks so soft
the dots bring a nice yet understated touch to a monotone outfit and GOOD LORD those thighs
they just had to pose him like this to torture us, I’m convinced. also they call him a “commanding gentleman” in the subtitle which is really just unnecessary to verbalise when he’s sitting like this
Someone put me in a rom-com with this man 7.2/10
the modern magician (at least he ain’t floating this time)
I know that the hat should be the focus of this shoot but I can’t get over those shoes
tangentially related, I have never understood why they make men’s dress shoes so excessively long and pointed. these certainly aren’t a good example of this but uh… I don’t understand why men’s dress shoes are clown shoes
I think part of what’s throwing me off is the sockless look. normally I can handle (and even love) it with some shoes but there’s something about the hem of those jeans and those shoes that turn them into slippers when worn sockless
I love the two-tone scarf but what really excites me is the plaid shirt that we can barely see. I’m eternally sad that they had RA hid it in this pose. and also, come one. you could’ve at least gotten a chair with an actual back to it. that can’t be good for his back at all
the one bonus of this outfit is the hat because when do we ever get RA in hats?? and hats that aren’t baseball caps?? a nice, rare touch. but also one which hides most of that face so…
can we talk about the fact that my gut tells me those jean cuffs have been deliberately turned up at the front and all I want in life is to reach into this image and flip them down 7.5/10
*pterodactyl noises*
holy macaroni. that demin shirt. and this shirt’s even a nice lighter denim colour??? and the v-neck?? SIR
I know he’s worn some faux-denim shirts in the last few years (see: Uncle Vanya rehearsal pics) but as outerwear? knocked it out of the park in this one
also I know this is a shirt not a jacket, but this shirt made me think about how I never realised how much I needed RA in jean jackets until today
It could be argued that a nice crew neck cut would work slightly better than the v-neck but that’s really a personal choice
a lovely respite for my weary eyes 7.7/10
a truly, truly blessed image. the sort of image that would bring you endless good luck
I know I’ve given a lot of pants crap on this list but these. these are the ones. these are doing the lord’s work for sure. and god bless the person who decided to shoot from this particular side angle.
and then the shirt?? I’m honestly afraid it may rip if he moves. I could leave or take the tie though. it’s not adding a whole lot to this outfit and I would much rather that shirt be uh… open at the top for a glimpse of uh… well. you know.
this RA outfit laughs in the face of all those early 2000s RA outfits 8.1/10
me running to open my phone every time an RA-related notification pops up
my only sadness is that this shoot was in black & white. we need more action-shot RA shoots!
also the subtle plaid?? *chef’s kiss*
well, I said ‘my only sadness’ but is it also me or are both ends of that tie strangely square? that is throwing me off from an otherwise spectacular photoshoot outfit, I won’t lie
8.5/10 for a man of action
this is what we all like to think we look on the way to work. hate to break it to ya - we don’t
god, that wind-ruffled hair. the rustic look provided by both the suit material & the photo editing. that stare over the top of that coffee mug. the casual ‘I just picked up the paper on my way out this morning’
words fail me
would it be weird if I said I would pay money to be able to run my hands through anyone’s hair that looks as soft and wind-swept as that 8.9/10
the comfiest RA
I love. love. love this outfit, especially the sweater. the pant colour goes extremely well with this one and I’m so glad they didn’t just stick him in jeans. the is the softest, comfiest RA and I love it. this is an RA who you can simultaneously share a beer and takeaway with at home, cuddling up on the sofa while you watch a film, as well as an RA who will take you out to eat fancy pasta at an upscale restaurant.
the choice of sitting on a stool is also great. my only real gripe here is the watch (and even that’s a minor one, really). the watch isn’t THAT bad, but it’s chunky face reminds me slightly of the watches boys in my class would wear in middle school. the watch could be a *wee wee tad* slicker, but really, I’m nitpicking here (and this is the only time I will admit to it)
the more I look at it, the more this becomes one of my fav RA pics. the slight smile. the relaxed pose. the hint of hand porn
weirdly, for some reason this picture gives me the exact same comfy and ‘just chilling out’ feeling as when I hear the song “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer 9.5/10
#richard armitage#yes this is a multi-part one because uh... there's a lot of photoshoots guys#also yes most of the early 2000s ones ended up at the bottom and I refuse to apologise for that
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About Olivia Rodrigo
It is a sign of a deep lack of self-esteem in our American monoculture that when Olivia Rodrigo so recently became the biggest pop musician of the moment most writers tasked to interpret said phenomenon were by default so cynical about the music they live to represent to the world that they seemed totally unaware of the most obvious explanation, one so obvious that it's almost childishly democratic: that she is simply the most naturally compelling new artist working in pop today.
Instead, they have cited elements of the music that are actually quite detrimental to its quality. Most pop-punk was weak, whiny, and obnoxiously self-involved when it was popular, and the fact that one of Olivia’s songs (“good 4 u”) sounds an awful lot like the good stuff (“Misery Business”) is indeed a sign of creative bankruptcy. That the album often sounds so much like Lorde, Taylor Swift, or Billie Eilish is only evidence of the pop machine’s greed-driven need for familiarity and the moments where these influences are truly overwhelming are the album’s least original and most incongruous. The truly teenage moments, despite their popularity with millennials and real teenagers alike, are out of touch and uninspired. I am a thirty-two year old man who also cannot parallel park, but I will never be able to relate to this kind of quirkiness in song if the singer is a rich teenager who claims in interviews that she pays for valet parking in order to avoid it.
Her relationship with Taylor Swift, whose influence is indeed all over every song on the album, seems destined to be tense, and Olivia performs best when her own creativity manages to escape it. “favorite crime” is essentially a Taylor Swift album track, imitative of Swift’s least incisive creative tendencies. “And I watched as you fled the scene / Doe-eyed as you buried me / One heart broke, four hands bloody,” writes Olivia, in the kind of mildly clever figurative imagery that makes the listener’s brain work to uncover a meaning that was already obvious, the kind of line Taylor writes in her weakest moments. The song’s apparent antecedent, “Victim,” performed live on Instagram in June of 2020, doesn’t sound like Taylor at all:
Let me be the victim of your perfect crime
Bathe in my blood so I’m not the bad guy
Yeah, I messed up so that you’ll mess up too
I really want the blame to be on you
So drive the knife in deep
Make the victim bleed
youtube
“Make the victim bleed.” It’s both unpretentiously direct and painfully deep. The imagery is vibrant and even specific enough to evoke centuries of high Catholic masochism without being at all complicated. Olivia’s best lyrics are indeed never detailed for their own sake, but calmly symbolic, referential of cultural archetypes, serving in the makeup of some more abstracted, weightier conceptual design.
Guilt, particularly of the religious kind, would seem to be her true creative center, a counterintuitive thought, given that so many of her songs officially released are so especially accusatory, to an empowering extent. But she always admits her doubt: “'Cause let’s be honest, we kinda do sound the same / Another actress / I hate to think that I was just your type” she says of her ex’s new girlfriend. Indeed every song on the album that is explicitly about heartbreak goes out of its way to acquit the criminal in one way or another, either implicitly or directly, describing situations that are as emotionally painful as they are understandable from both sides.
She knows, in other words, that her anger at the boy is both valid and unjustified, that her sadness is real but not at all unique. Her pain transcends by its lack of an honest target, and this is what makes her music relatable to all ages. Without quite saying it, through a contradictory combination of dedicated vulnerability and self-awareness she asks the universe--or God even--rather than the boy, why did this happen? Why does this happen and is it my fault? "Did I do something wrong?"
More than anywhere else, you can hear it in her voice. Though lots of different things can get in the way, this transcendent guilt sits in her voice as a sustained emotional power, shifting between a dull pain somewhere deep in her chest and a lump in her throat, lending sincere force and tragic significance to subject matter that most have interpreted as specifically teenaged and delightfully naive. Bruce Springsteen famously said that the first time he heard “Like a Rolling Stone,” Bob Dylan’s voice “sounded somehow simultaneously young and adult.” This is the kind of compliment disallowed to teenage girls by the use of the “you’re mature for your age” trope by predatory old men, which is a shame, because if anyone deserves to be called mature it's a teenager who takes guilt seriously before they’ve really had a chance to even do anything wrong.
Maybe she has had her marvelously unanimous success because this pained emotional high is heavily tempered on SOUR, particularly in its singles, two of which drown it out in the bridge (“drivers license”, “deja vu”), and the third of which filters it through talk-singing and distorted yelling (“good 4 u”). Maybe this is why she switched out “Victim,” a song where she sings of her “guilty Catholic heart,” and pleads “make the victim me,” for “favorite crime.” It does seem almost too heavy for American pop, and maybe a little dab of it is all the industry’s recipe requires because America doesn’t know how to process a mature teenage girl in a healthy way. But it is the passion at the source of her talent and, although her album is not at all perfect, shines through like the burning sun at every opportunity.
#olivia rodrigo#sour#pop music#catholic guilt#catholicism#bob dylan#taylor swift#lorde#billie eilish#bruce springsteen#hsmtmts#the rose song
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High Expectations - Ch20
I’ve been a little quiet for a bit because illness hit me hard (although thankfully not for too long). I’m back though and I bring another chapter of the beast that keeps on growing.
Extra thanks to @willow-salix who had to deal with my post-fog writing going back a few stages and who helped beat this into some sort of coherency.
Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen
AO3 chapter link
Chapter Twenty
The mood in the plane was buoyant and the air was charged with testosterone and bravado. The transport flight was filled with Air Force personnel and their destination was Fort Hood, Texas. Scott hummed absently, his fingers drumming out a little beat on his knee, feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks, normally being a passenger on a flight made him agitated as he itched to be in the pilot’s seat but today was different.
The Army was the designated host of this year’s United States inter-service sports tournament and Fort Hood was the location where, for the next few days those selected to represent their respective services would compete in their chosen sports.
The tournament was supposed to be a friendly coming together of the various United States forces plus the various World Security Patrol branches, and for the most part it was friendly although it would be a lie to suggest there wasn’t a certain amount of posturing and goading underneath the surface. For those taking part it was a chance to uphold the honour of their chosen service and score some one-upmanship, for those like Scott who had been selected before it was also a chance to settle old scores.
For Scott it would be a blessed interlude between missions; after his last assignment he was in desperate need of some R&R but with taking leave off the cards this came a close second for allowing him to decompress and see the good side of military life. It would be a chance to indulge in some physical activity that he didn't have to think too hard about, recently his life had been nothing but one exhaustive mission after another. For once he was happy to be free from the burden of command for a while, his primary mission now was to run fast, fight hard and add as many points as possible to the Air Force tally.
His thoughts turned to last year’s competition; he’d done well and never placed lower than fifth in any of his events despite one Seaman Jeffries of the World Navy tripping him in 1500m, an action that by rights should have seen the man disqualified. Unfortunately the rankings were upheld with Jeffries placing second while he had struggled to regain ground and claim fifth. The injustice still rankled and he wondered if he would have to face the nefarious Jeffries again this year.
“Sir,” Scott called across to the Major who had been designated at team captain and was in charge of the Air Force contingent, “do you have a copy of the events list I can take a look at?”
“Sure Tracy, I brought some spares just in case” Major Ellis replied, passing a sheaf of papers across the aisle. “You’re up on the Wednesday afternoon for your track events and then Thursday afternoon for the martial arts. See any familiar names?”
“One or two” Scott replied as he checked out the list of competitors. “The US Army have put Moran in the hurdles again. I’d love to beat him this time and wipe that smug smile off his face. I’ve never met anyone so gloating.”
Having scrutinized the running order and competitors for his own events, no Jeffries, thank God, Scott began idly flicking through the rest of the programme. As he scanned the lists he spotted a familiar name, wanting confirmation of his suspicions he pulled out his phone and sent a message.
How far out of Fort Hood are you?
About 40 minutes came the response. This was quickly followed by How did you find out? Everyone at home promised not to tell you. I wanted it to be a surprise. If it was Alan I’ll kill him.
Competitor list. See you soon.
Scott let out an involuntary chuckle knowing Gordon would be mad at giving himself away and thus depriving himself of the element of surprise in any pranks he had planned.
“What’s tickled your funny bone?” asked Ellis.
“It looks like you’re going to get to meet my kid brother.”
“Really?” Ellis asked curiously, opening up his own copy of the events list. “Is he on the other flight?”
“No, Gordon isn’t Air Force, he joined WASP.”
“You’ve got a brother in WASP? That’s a bit of a polar opposite to the Air Force. I bet that didn’t go down too well at home.” Scott had worked hard to build his own reputation but it was still well known who his father was and the Air Force pedigree he was following. “Is he another sprinter like you?”
“Dad took a little persuading” a frown furrowed his brow at the memory of Gordon’s journey into WASP; ‘a little persuading’ really didn’t do it justice but he wasn’t going to have the family’s dirty laundry aired in public, “but WASP was the natural choice really, Gordon’s a swimmer.”
Major Ellis found the relevant page and looked over the listings. The name Ensign G. Tracy leapt off the page again and again within the WASP entries.
“He’s all over the pool like a rash! Talk about putting all your eggs in one basket. Is he really that good?”
“You evidently don’t follow swimming that much. I should’ve realised WASP would jump at the chance to put him on the squad. It’s not often anyone gets to field an Olympic medallist.” He couldn’t help the smile that split his face at the thought of seeing his brother swim again for the first time since the Games. Gordon had dedicated so many years to his sport and had achieved glittering success that gave Scott a rush of pride at the memories.
In the confined space of the plane their conversation was beginning to attract attention.
“What’s that about an Olympic medallist?”
“Dunno, ask Tracy.”
“Hey, Tracy, who’s got a medal?”
“My brother, Gordon.”
“You’re kidding!”
While Scott’s own unit might have been well versed in his sibling’s success story the competitors were pulled from across the Air Force, most of them complete strangers before boarding the flight. There was a flurry of movement as a couple of people pulled out their phones and plugged the name into a search engine. By now most of the plane was taking an interest. It didn’t take long for someone to dig out one of the news reports; Gordon’s Olympic win had taken place less than two years previously and coverage was easy to find.
“Here, listen to this.”
Team USA continue their race to the top of the medals table with a successful day in the pool. The crowning glory came from Gordon Tracy, a rising star in the swimming world, who not only achieved gold in the 200m butterfly but set a new world record in the process. This achievement is made more remarkable in that Tracy is just 17 years old.
“That’s your brother! And now he is on the WASP team? Heck Tracy, can’t you do something like hide his trunks so the rest of us stand a chance?” one of the Air Force’s own swimmers exclaimed.
“No can do. There is no way I’m sabotaging my own brother and don’t any of you think of trying anything either. If you had ever met Gordon you would know that wouldn’t work anyway, he would probably just do the race butt naked.”
xoxoxox
Gordon gazed listlessly out of the window of his own transport flight, the clouds forming an unbroken blanket below them, the vista bland and uninspiring. After 4 fours in the air he was feeling bored, cramped and fed up. He’d started the flight all keyed up at the thought of competing again but the long hours in the company of strangers was starting to wear thin. For one thing there was too much trash talking for his liking, he’d never gone in for the verbal sparring side of sport but it seemed his companions very much viewed the other services as the enemy at this event. It wasn’t an attitude he had encountered elsewhere in WASP and he hoped the bad mouthing would be constrained to these few days, it also wasn’t behaviour he could join in with in good conscious and so he had stayed quiet and kept himself to himself, trying to get back into competition mode after so long off the elite circuit. A vibration in his pocket startled him and he pulled out his phone.
How far out of Fort Hood are you?
Without thinking he typed About 40 minutes and hit the send button. Only when it was too late did it register who had sent the original message and he realised his mistake. He had wanted to surprise his oldest brother, the one who was hardest to meet up with due to their differing military commitments. He’d been able to tell the wider family about his selection during his period of leave over Alan’s birthday but with Scott away on his mission he’d been able to keep the news secret from his eldest sibling.
How did you find out? Everyone at home promised not to tell you. I wanted it to be a surprise. If it was Alan I’ll kill him.
Competitor list. See you soon.
Well, he supposed Scott would have found out in a few hours anyway and at least this way they would both be looking out for each other. He wasn’t quite sure of the format of the event or how easy it would be to break away and hunt down a member of one of the other services.
xoxoxox
Gordon wasn’t sure what he had been expecting from competition or from Fort Hood but it looked like finding Scott wasn’t going to be easy. Outside of their own events the personnel were able to watch the competition but there was very little free time beyond that. Even if he could get away, finding his brother was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack; the different services were billeted all over the base and by the end of the first day all he knew was that WASP was sharing a dorm block with the Coastguard Service and a mess hall with the US Navy.
Not that he had much time to brood, the swimming was taking place on the first day of the competition proper and after a hurried breakfast Gordon found himself hustled towards the pool.
He was looking forward to the chance of some competitive swimming again. The specialist training on the Merlin had been intensive and the extended time beneath the waves had ignited a passion for marine biology but the cramped space of a submarine had hardly been conducive to physical exercise. This competition would give him the opportunity to indulge in his first passion, he just hoped he was up to the task having been entered into far more events and across a wider range of disciplines that he was used to.
Aside from his trunks lacking the Team USA branding the competition was much like any other Gordon had attended. A fair crowd had filled the viewing gallery but Gordon couldn’t tell if Scott was amongst those in dark blue. Events were called, heats were swum (and usually won) and Tracy was once again a name to be reckoned with in the pool. It felt good to be cleaving through the water again. Despite not being in peak condition for swimming he was still in fine physical form over all and the muscle memory from all those races past carried him along to victory time and again. The main difference to his usual style of competition was the lack of medal ceremony at the end and at the conclusion of his last race Gordon was able to wend his weary way back to the changing rooms where he flopped down on a bench.
Pressing his shoulders against the cold tiles, eyes closed and head tipped back, the last of his energy was spent. It had been a long time since he’d pushed himself to those lengths in the water and normally his race card was rather more sparse, one elite athlete among many, each responsible for their own specialisms. The problem was, despite the high physical standards demanded by the military, elite athletes were in short supply and his pool times had placed him as primary candidate across more events than he was really comfortable taking on but he hadn’t felt able to say no to his superiors this early in his WASP career.
He concentrated on his breathing, listening to the hum and chatter of the other competitors around him, a cluster of WASPs gloating about their healthy position in the league table were his nearest companions. He knew he ought to be getting dry, knew he ought to be digging out the tracksuit he’d been issued for the event, but his limbs felt leaden. He wanted to be collapsed on his bunk but that involved moving and right now moving felt an impossible task.
“Gordon, eat something.”
He sensed a dimming of the light levels through his eyelids as a figure stepped between him and the harsh lights of the changing room. The voice was commanding but his eyes stayed firmly shut and his body refused to obey.
The figure in front of him was causing quite a stir but then that was typical of Scott. He tended to exude an attitude as though he owned a place and this evidently wasn’t going down well with the WASPs around him who bristled with resentment at the young figure in Air Force blue invading their section of the changing rooms. There were muttered jibes, reminiscent of those from the flight over, but the intruder wasn’t giving the WASP delegation the rise they so clearly desired. Having failed in their goading one of his team mates decided to square up to the man they evidently viewed as the opposition.
“And who the hell are you to order us around, flyboy?”
Scott’s eyes glittered at the challenge, a warning look that Gordon would have recognised from his own childhood had he been fully cognizant of the situation, Scott was not in any mood to be pushed.
“That’s Captain to you” there was a pause as he took in the insignia worn by the other man, neither were in traditional uniform but the competition sports kit still had a place for rank slides; after all, the military thrived on hierarchy “Chief Petty Officer, although I accept you may not be familiar with the rank structures of the other services”
Scott turned his attention back to his brother, ignoring the WASP who was now brisling after being firmly put in his place. He was well aware of the animosity being directed towards him but his focus was his sibling, not some jumped up sardine with a chip on his shoulder. He’d been concerned at the amount of events Gordon had pulled, and now, seeing his brother in the aftermath, he knew that concern had been justified. The figure in front of him was breathing a little too shallowly for comfort and hadn’t moved from the moment Scott had spied him from across the changing room. It had been a long time since he’d seen his brother swim himself to this level of stupor, years of competing had made Gordon pretty well attuned to his bodily needs, but evidently today he had neglected his post-race routine.
Gordon had gotten as far as taking off his swim cap but no further, water dripped down his torso from the flattened hair that was still slick from the showers. Even accounting for his time under the waves his skin was far paler than Scott was used to seeing. He’d come down with the intention of congratulating his brother on his success in the water but now his primary concern had turned to Gordon’s basic wellbeing.
Scott knew he had to get his blood sugars back up again. He grabbed his brother’s kit bag and rooted around in the end pocket. He allowed himself a small smile of triumph as his fingers closed around the packet of glucose tablets it appeared his brother still had the sense to carry. He extracted two tablets from the tube and, crouching down in front of his brother, placed them in Gordon’s palm before closing the lax fingers over them.
“Gords, you still with me? You need to get these into you.”
He paused while Gordon’s body processed the order, then let out a little breath of relief as the arm jerked up and Gordon began to suck on the tablets.
He hadn’t seen his brother crash this bad since he was about twelve. An early promotion to senior squad had seen the pre-teen eager to please his new coach while trying not to show anything that could be construed as weakness by his new and much older team mates and so the kid had forgone his post-race refuel. The result then had been Gordon turning a grim shade of grey and falling off the medal podium in a dead faint.
With the glucose tablets administered Scott turned his attention back to Gordon’s kit bag and pulled out a celery crunch bar, a firm favourite for the swimmer. He opened it and placed it in Gordon’s now empty hand. This was evidently an imposition too far for the WASP already disgruntled at being put in his place by the young captain.
“With all due respect Sir” there was a distinct sneer behind the formality “there’s no eating allowed in the changing rooms.”
If Scott’s eyes had glittered before, now they blazed with anger and contempt. Rising from his crouch in front of Gordon, he drew himself up to his full height and positively loomed over the belligerent WASP.
“With all due respect I would have thought you would rather your team mate got his blood sugars up, or does your first aid training not cover hypoglycaemia?” He took a step towards the WASP, encroaching into the man’s personal space in a clear display of dominance. “Not that you seem to be acting as a team right now. Would half of you even be here if it wasn’t for the relay events, or maybe you tried to enter him for all four legs of that at well?”
With the glucose hitting his blood stream Gordon became more aware of the increasing commotion around him. Voices that had once been jubilant now had a dangerous and angry edge and…yes...most of the anger seemed to be coming from Scott.
Something tripped blearily in his brain; what on Earth was Scott doing here and why did he suddenly feel so cold? Amber eyes cracked open and he forced his head open off the wall. The movement was clocked by Scott who was back in front of him in an instant.
“Hey Fish, you back with me?” All traces of anger had gone as he turned his attention back to his Gordon, the Air Force Captain replaced by the brother of old; the caregiver with the ready supply of band aids, ice packs and gentle admonishment as he presented yet another injury for inspection.
“Yeah, I’m...I’m good.” He looked down in confusion at the crunch bar in his hand, not entirely sure how it had got there, but took a bite anyway. “Guess I should have known better than to skip refuel.”
“Yeah, you should”
Yup, that was the Scott he knew from Kansas. Gordon felt like he was 9 years old again, being told off for being an idiot in the same ‘I told you so’ tone that had made it quite clear that of course jumping off the shed roof or using the frayed rope swing had been a bad idea.
“Yeah, thanks for that” A snort, an eye roll, and a re-emergence of the same attitude common to his past nine year old self.
“You’re okay now though, right? You’ll finish your bar and get dressed? Glucose tabs are back in the end pocket if you need more.”
“I’m fine, honest.” Okay, the slight whine was a little too much like a kid but he was tired and there was something about Scott’s familiar care that had him regressing 10 years. He forced protesting muscles to obey and hauled his back off the wall, rolling his shoulders to try and loosen the muscles that were rapidly seizing up. He tried to suppress a groan at the exertion, he wasn’t quite ready to try standing until after the crunch bar was finished but he also knew Scott would not be pacified until he saw some sort of response. The skeptical look he was given showed that Scott still wasn’t entirely convinced. Mustering up his remaining energy he returned the look with a grin which seemed to appease the elder Tracy.
“Hmm”, Scott didn't sound like he believed him but couldn't argue it, “well, get dry and get your kit on. You did good out there. I’ll be on the track tomorrow afternoon; I’ll see you there.” Without waiting for an answer Scott turned and exited the changing rooms.
The departure of the Air Force officer was followed with an outburst of grumbling from the WASP delegation.
“Asshole. Who the hell does he think he is, ordering us around?”
Gordon still hadn’t found his footing among the other swimmers, or the wider WASP delegation. He might be the highest ranking of those at the pool but he was also by far the youngest and with the shortest amount of service under his belt by a country mile. Rank structures overall seemed to be treated differently during the competition and these particular team mates seemed to have little regard for authority. He was conscious that a wrong move now could make life distinctly unpleasant for him, he might never see these men again after the competition was over but he still had to get through several more days in their company. He decided to play it for what it was; Scott being an irritating older brother.
“That was Scott. I think he got the whole older brother thing hard wired in at birth.”
“You’re related to that?” There was a contemptuous sneer aimed at Scott’s retreating form that set Gordon’s hackles raising but he knew sniping back would be an error.
“Yup. Of course, I got blessed with the good looks while he got the height.” He flashed a grin, trying to diffuse the tensions.
“Is he always such a jerk?” a Seaman sat to his right piped up, finding his voice now the imposing Captain was no longer practically standing on his toes.
Gordon shrugged; evidently the tensions were still there. “Only when he needs to be. I should’a thought to grab the glucose tabs myself after that many races. It’s been a while since I hit the pool competitively.”
There was a slight shuffling from the other swimmers, signs of guilt at not looking out for the young Ensign that had carried the team. Scott’s words about the rest of them only being there to make up the numbers for the relay, while not wholly accurate, weren’t far off the truth. They were all back in their dry kit while Gordon was still in his trunks, his skin still pale from the exertion even if his eyes had regained some brightness.
“Anyway,” he scruffed at his hair before drying off the rest of his body ready for dressing, “I need some real food after that and then I need to find out where the track events are being held.”
A snort. “Well we’ll be watching the shooting tomorrow. You can join us, or are you really going to do what big brother tells you?”
There was a challenge in the tone but Gordon was feeling more alive again and less tolerant of their needling. “I’m not going because he told me to, I’m going because he’s my brother and I want to. In my family we support each other and Scott, well, he’s done a lot for me.”
Decision made and allegiances stated he swung his kit bag over his shoulder and headed out to find some food.
#High Expectations#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#Scott Tracy#Gordon Tracy#Military brothers#Family comes first#swimming
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Reminisce (Grayson Dolan) [1]
- Requested -
A/N: Hey guys! It's been a while since I posted a fic and well, I don't really have a good excuse besides the fact that I have been stuck lately and been kind of uninspired to write so yeah. Also I want to apologize to the anon who requested this for taking sooooo long. I'm so so soo sorry from the bottom of my heart for making you wait for almost 4 months(?) I feel so bad honestly, I hope you forgive me.
Anyway! I hope you guys enjoy this one.
P.S. I decided to split it into parts because it’s not done yet and I won’t let the anon wait any longer without posting at least something so here’s part 1!
Summary: Grayson thought he was going to lose you after a car accident that put you in a coma, but he was nowhere near prepared from what's about to happen when you finally wake up.
Warnings: Angst and Typos
Word Count: 7.2k+
Masterlist in Bio
-:-:-:-:-
Part 1
“Goddamn it Grayson! Will you fucking listen to me?!” You yelled, hands flailing everywhere, getting so worked up at how he’s acting so childish right now. Its normal for a couple to fight, some might say it makes the relationship stronger, but when it keeps happening too often, you just know that, that isn’t a good sign.
“No! You fucking listen to me (Y/N)!” Grayson growled, face red and fuming, jealousy raging inside his veins as he once again found you with an old friend of yours, or should he say, ex-boyfriend.
“You can’t just flirt with your ex-boyfriend when we're on a date (Y/N)! Right in front of my fucking face!” He added taking a step forward, but you stood there unfazed, his words actually angering you even more.
“Really? Flirting?” You shook your head at him. “Yes because that’s what I fucking saw!” His voice boomed, throwing both hands in the air, both of you just feeding each other’s anger dangerously.
“You’re so fucking unbelievable! How many times do I have to tell your brain that we were only talking?!” You screamed, ready to rip you hair off at how hard he’s being. Grayson has always been the jealous type, there were times when it was cute but there were also times when it’s become too much.
You tried your best to understand him, to ease him out of his insecurities, to show him that you aren’t like the girls he’s dated in the past, that you’ll take great care of his heart but it hasn’t always been easy, loving a scarred and broken man is never easy.
“I’m not fucking blind (Y/N)! He was definitely flirting with you, and being the naïve girl that you are of course you didn’t notice! Or maybe you did notice and just flirted back just like every single time a guy talks to you.” He hissed, venom laced in his voice, all of his emotions slowly clouding his judgment.
You stared at him dumbfounded, blinking a couple times, not knowing if the words really did come out of his mouth. “Is that really what you think of me now? After two years of being together, you still think I’d actually flirt with other guys?” Your voice wavered, feeling so hurt that he’s actually doubting your loyalty.
He looked away and you felt your heart break right then and there. “What if I do?” He mumbled. “What? You think I’m some bitch now who just flirts with other guys in front of you? Are you implying that I actually am capable of cheating on you Gray?” You voiced out, scared of what he’s going to say because when Grayson is angry, he let’s go of words that just kills you bit by bit.
“Not my fault if that’s what you’re showing me.” You looked at the man in front of you in utter shock, your breath getting caught inside your throat. “Are you hearing yourself right now Grayson?” You whispered, staring at him in disbelief.
Never have you thought the day would come that Grayson would actually question your love for him. In every fight you have had in the past, he’s always been trying to push you away, building up his walls over and over again after every time you tried so hard to break them down and kick the bricks away. But as soon as you come so close to succeeding, he just shuts you out again, finding other ways to build his walls back up.
“Yes (Y/N), I can hear myself clearly.” He rolled his eyes, still refusing to meet your gaze, his anger still boiling in the very pit of his being. “You’re just like them. You’re just waiting for the right opportunity to leave me once you’ve found someone better or if one of your exes finally comes crawling back.” He crossed his arms over his chest, jaw clenching at the thought.
“I’m just like them.” You echoed, your tears now flowing freely from your eyes, heart beating so fast but your body feeling numb.
“Yes (Y/N)! You are just like the people who use me to move on! Claiming that you love me but when your beloved ex comes back, you just leave me! Just like everyone else!” Grayson yelled straight at your face but once his eyes fully met yours, he knew he fucked up.
You stumbled back, your lips quivering as sobs escaped your mouth. Him being jealous is one thing, but saying that you are just using him is a whole ‘nother level. It hurts to think that after everything you’ve been through, all the nights you fought for his trust, the times you’ve given him all of you, to prove to him that you’ll always pick him, that you’ll give all your love to him and only him, he still thinks that you’re that kind of person, a low, selfish person who is just using him.
“After all the things I’ve sacrificed to make you happy, all the times I avoided everything that made you uncomfortable, even stopped talking to a few of my guy friends to ease your fear, all the love I’ve given you, I’m still just like them. After two years you still think I'm just using you. You actually think I'm that low of a person Grayson?” You stated, tear after tear slipping out faster than you could get rid of them as you are not able to control it anymore.
Grayson’s anger vanished almost immediately, face now painted with regret as he realized what he’s just said, how he has managed to let the anger control him again, but now, he’s just gone too far. “(Y/N)…” He tried to reach for you but you backed away making his heart sting at the way you looked at him.
“You always do this to me. You say something hurtful when you're angry then you apologize the next day like nothing happened, and I always forgive you each time, telling myself that you’re just broken and hurt. I always put you first Gray, always. I’ve been doing everything that I can just to make you happy, to never hurt you in any shape or form, to prove to you that I’ll always be here for you. I’ve been fighting for your trust for so long, always trying my best to be patient, to help you heal, to understand why you let these things come out your mouth, telling myself that it’s just the anger speaking but I’ve had enough, I’m tired Grayson, I’m so fucking tired!” You sobbed, eyes boring straight into his.
Everybody has a breaking point, and you’ve finally reached yours.
The look on your face was enough to snap Grayson’s heart into half, the look of betrayal and pain written all over your features, so clear as day. He’s finally done it. He’s finally broken the girl who’s always been there for him, the girl who’s always been so strong to keep up with him and his problem, his insecurities, the person who was willing to fight the demons in him, the person who was willing to stay by his side no matter how messed up he is, the only person who has never given up on him.
You were such an amazing girl when he first met you, so joyful and so kind. You have been the most beautiful person that has come into his life, both inside and out. You've always had this light radiating off of you that makes everyone around you feel so calm and happy. You were his ray of sunshine, especially when Grayson ends up in such a dark place. You were his angel who fought so hard to keep his demons at bay. But looking at you now, he's realized that after such a long time, he's finally managed to snuff the light out of you.
He has managed to drag you into his own mess, which is himself. It was like every time you help him, you were also getting drained bit by bit, like you're transferring your own light into him, but his darkness just seems to overtake it always. The once so happy and radiant (Y/N) that he knew was almost gone, and he knew it was all his fault.
“(Y/N)… I’m sorry.” Grayson tried to take another step but you shook your head at him. “Don’t even try. I’m not doing this again, I’m done going in circles. I forgive you then you do it again and it goes on and on. I can’t Gray, I can’t fight anymore. You’ve finally won because I give up.” You choked, hands fisted on your sides, your whole body trembling from all the emotions that’s consuming you, anger, pain, fear, everything.
You wanted so bad to just forgive him, to just forget about everything and move on from it, to hug him and just apologized for making him jealous, but you just can’t deal with it anymore. It’s like he’s been abusing it too much, the way you easily forgive him. It was time to put yourself first. You’ve already tried to fix him, but you can never fix a person, that's their choice and only their choice to do so. You can never heal a broken man if he doesn't want to be healed.
“No… (Y/N), p-please.” Grayson’s voice broke, heart shattering completely with those three little words, ‘I give up’.
The last thing Grayson ever wanted in life was to lose you. You are his only source of light through all those dark moments. You helped him get through his anxiety countless of times, you made him see things differently, to appreciate all the little things in the world and just how beautiful it is.
Grayson always had trust issues due to previous heartbreaks, but you stuck with him, even after all the times he’s been pushing you away. Your patience with him was incredible, you fought and fought for two years to get him to see that you truly did love him, you are the strongest girl he knows, but one person can only take so much beating.
He shouldn’t have let his emotions take over him, he shouldn’t have let his anger control him, he should have tried his best and fought the back demons but he was weak and stupid. So stupid his finally managed to push you over the edge.
“I don’t want to do this anymore Grayson, I’m done. We're done.” You whispered, taking every ounce of courage to look at him one last time before turning around to make your way towards the door, but Grayson grabbed you before you could even move, keeping you in place because he knew that once you set a foot out that door, you'll be out of his life, and he doesn’t know if he'd be ever to get you back.
“No no no, please (Y/N), please don’t leave me.” He cried, hugging you from behind, trying his best to prevent you from walking away, and hearing Grayson sob was enough to break your heart fully, after all, you do love him with every ounce of your being. “I’m so sorry, baby I’m sorry, please forgive me, I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me, please (Y/N), please.” He begged, hugging you even tighter, his face buried on your shoulder blade as his whole body trembled.
You bit your lip, tears clouding your vision once again just by hearing Grayson so broken, so hurt. You wanted to just turn around and hug him, to kiss him and tell it’s going to be okay, but you resisted, pushing his arms off your body. It's time to think of yourself for once. If he's not going to try his best and change, then he has to learn it the hard way, even if that means leaving him, even if it hurts you too.
“Let me go Grayson. I’ve given you too many chances, I’m drained, I can’t do this anymore, please let me go.” You forced his arms off of you with all the strength you could muster, him mumbling 'no's over and over again, but when you managed to do so, you just ran. You knew you had to get out of the house as fast as you can as the air started to become too thick and suffocating, you just needed to breathe. Also Grayson can be so persuasive, you knew that when you face him and look inside those hazel orbs of his, you're just going to get lost in them again, and the cycle will continue.
You ran out of the house, very much aware that Grayson was right on your tail as he called out your name but you didn’t dare look back. You kept running, not paying any attention to where you we’re heading, not being able to see clearly either as the tears blurred your sight, your legs stumbling down the path that leads to who knows where, trying your best to keep your body upright.
It was already too late to notice that you've managed to run in the middle of the road.
You heard a loud beep that made you stop in your tracks, turning around seeing only a bright set of lights coming straight your way, so fast that you didn't have any amount of time to react, and everything just went black.
“(Y/N)!” Grayson screamed, mouth hanging open as he froze in his spot, shock overtaking his body as he watched his girlfriend’s body fly across the pavement. It took him a few seconds to snap out of it as he bolted towards you, heart racing when he saw the state that you're in.
You were laid on the floor almost lifeless, blood rushing out of your head and staining the road underneath you. "No no no, (Y/N), baby, wake up, please." Grayson was shaking, his tears an endless stream down his face as he slowly kneeled down, one hand went underneath your head in an attempt to support it, the other went to cup your face, as he stared down at you, fear, guilt and regret eating him up slowly. He didn’t dare attempt to move your body at all, in fear that he might hurt you even more.
Blood was now seeping into the fabric of his jeans, but he didn’t care, none of that mattered as the thought of losing you for good crossed his mind, and everything was going to be his fault.
“Help! Please! Somebody call the ambulance!” He cried, looking around the area to see if someone was within the distance. “Help!” He tried again, not even bothering to hide his sobs as he looked down at you, his tears dropping on your face. “Baby, stay with me, please (Y/N) stay with me.” He whispered stroking your cheek with his thumb just as Mrs. Potts, your neighbor walked out of her house, gasping once she saw the scene in front of her.
Grayson turned around to face her with a look of relief across his face, “We need an ambulance! Quick!”
“Robert! Call 911!” She yelled for her husband, and Grayson felt like he could breathe again, help was on the way.
“They’re coming (Y/N), just stay with me, everything’s going to be okay, I love you (Y/N), just stay with me, everything’s going to be fine.” Grayson repeated over and over again, but it sounded more like he was saying this to reassure himself, which is partly true as his mind was race just as fast as his heart was.
None of this would’ve happened if he hadn’t been a dick. He shouldn’t have let those words out, he shouldn’t have hurt you. This was all his fault. And he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something even worse will happen to you.
Everything else was a huge blur as Grayson heard a siren from afar, red and blue lights slowly getting closer and closer to where he was, and the next thing he knew, you were being loaded up in the ambulance, Grayson never letting go of your hand as he sat by you, tears free falling, him looking at the love of his life with the thought of the possibility of losing her forever.
* * *
"Gray!" The loud footsteps made Grayson look up from his place on one of those chairs pushed against the wall in the waiting area where he was sat on with his head hung low. His bloodshot eyes met with his brother's, that certain look immediately gave Ethan such an uneasy feeling.
"Bro, what happened to you? Are you okay?" The older twin asked as he sat down beside him, eyes narrowing at his brother's state which was not good at all. Grayson's hands and clothes were stained with blood, the color now fading a little bit as it starts to dry, not to mention the anxious expression written all across his face.
"I – I'm fine, it's not my blood, I – its (Y/N)'s. She got in a car accident and I – she's still in the ER and no doctor has come out yet and fuck E, I–" Grayson didn't get to finish his sentence as Ethan pulled him in for a hug, Grayson's tears welling up in his eyes again.
"Everything going to be fine G. She's a strong girl, she'll be fine." Ethan hugged him tighter in an attempt to comfort him, knowing just how scared and anxious his brother is right now. Ethan doesn't know what exactly happened. Grayson just called him up and told him to meet him at the hospital, and when it's in the hospital, it's never good news.
Grayson pulled away with a sniffle, running a hand through his hair as he looked at Ethan, "It's all my fucking fault E, we were fighting and I said terrible things to her. I hurt her Ethan. I pushed her to her limit and she ran. If it wasn't for me she wouldn't be in this situation right now." Grayson looked down, catching a glimpse of his hands that were tainted with blood, your blood.
Your blood was literally in his hands, if that doesn't scream his fault then Grayson doesn't know what else does.
"Bro, don't beat yourself up will you? None of this is your fault. I know you probably feel so guilty right now but it's not your fault Gray. Accidents happen and none of us are in control of that." Ethan placed his hand on Grayson's shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze in an attempt to get him out of his dark headspace. Grayson didn't say anything else, he just gave Ethan a small nod, even if his words didn't change his mind for one bit.
"What happened to the driver?" Ethan asked after a few moments of silence, looking slightly worried as Grayson's jaw clenched. "The fucking bastard just sped off. Didn't even bother to stop and help. The police are looking for him now, they said they'll just call me if they have any news." Grayson growled, the anger finally surfacing at the thought of the person who ran you over. He wouldn't be this mad if that person just stopped and helped, maybe you wouldn't have lost that much blood if they did, but they didn't, which makes them equally as assholes.
Grayson has to admit that this isn't entirely his fault, as much as he caused most of it, the driver is still part of the blame. Yes, the road was pretty much empty but they shouldn't have been reckless by speeding. Fuck they might have even spotted you from far away and pushed the brake right on time, but judging by the way they were driving, Grayson has a hunch that they were definitely drunk.
"How about her mom Gray, did you get to call her?" Grayson let out a deep sigh, staring at the floor as the guilt started take over again. "I – yeah, she'll be here in a few." The phone call between your mom and him was the hardest phone call Grayson has ever gone through. Just explaining to your mom what happened was a nightmare, especially when he's promised her to keep you safe and sound at all cost, to not hurt her only daughter and he has only managed to do the exact opposite.
The image of you almost lifeless across the pavement kept flashing across his eyes like its taunting him. What if he did things differently? What if he stood his ground and didn't let you get away from his grip? What if he actually controlled his anger this time? Things would have been a whole lot different.
"Grayson, none of this is your fault. Please stop blaming yourself, would (Y/N) want you to blame yourself over this?" At the mention of your name, Grayson's lips quivered, tears pooling back into his eyes. Ethan frowned, placing his hands on his brother's back in an attempt to comfort him.
"You don't understand E. I yelled at her, I –" Grayson took a deep breath, palms rubbing on his face before continuing. "I told her that she was just using me. I told her that she's just like my exes who use me to move on. I was implying to her that she's capable of cheating which I know she doesn't! I fucking know she never wants to hurt me. I just got so angry and I fucked up. I was such a fucking idiot! She's far better than them, way better than any girl I've been with, fuck she's such an incredible person, such an angel and I just fucked everything up like I always do." Grayson aggressively wiped the tear that fell on his cheek with the back of his hand, eyes glued to the floor as the foul words he let out kept echoing inside his mind.
Ethan sighed but didn't say a word. He didn't have too, Grayson already knew how disappointed he was in him, and he has every right to be.
Ethan saw firsthand how you made Grayson feel so happy. You definitely were helping him get through tough times whenever Ethan isn't there, or when both of them are in a dark place at the same time. You made Grayson believe in love again, but of course, his brother just can't seem to shake of his insecurities. He doesn't blame him though, getting your heart broken over and over again can mess you up real bad.
"Grayson?" A feminine voice made both boys look up. Grayson heart dropped when he saw your mom. You looked so much like her and that made everything harder for Grayson, especially with the sad eyes and worried look she was sporting, the expression all too familiar for his liking. It's like the universe is taunting him, not letting him forget about how badly he really has hurt you.
Grayson stood up almost immediately, facing her with the same amount of sadness. "I'm so sorry. We were fighting and I said some things. She ran to the streets and I didn't get to her in time. I could've stopped it from happening, I'm so sorry. I hurt her, I was supposed to protect her, to keep her safe. I promised you to keep her safe and I–"
"Oh honey, come here." Your mom pulled him in for a hug, Grayson breaking at the embrace as he let out a sob, hugging her tighter. "It's not your fault dear. It's not your fault." She repeated over and over, rubbing his back comfortingly as the grown man cried his heart out.
"Excuse me, are you miss (Y/L/N)'s family?" Grayson pulled away from your mother to be met by a woman in scrubs with a solemn face that made Grayson's heart rate escalate.
"I'm her mother. How is she?" You mother stepped forward, her arms reaching out for the doctor to shake before wrapping it around herself as she tries to prepare herself for any news. Grayson didn't even realized how much he's shaking from nerves until Ethan placed a hand on his shoulder, urging him to take a deep breath and relax.
"I'm Jean, (Y/N)'s doctor. She is still unconscious and in a critical condition. Due to how hard the impact was, she has lost a lot of blood and managed to acquire a lot of injuries from the accident ranging from broken bones, a bruised lung, a kidney laceration, and also including TBI or Traumatic Brain Injury. We are trying our best to stabilize her vitals but as for now, everything is still unpredictable." She gave your mother a sympathetic look, reaching out to hold your mother's hand in hers, "I know how hard it is but we have no choice but to hope for the best. I will make sure your daughter will get the best treatment she deserves. I can already tell she's a strong girl, she'll get through this."
"Thank you so much Doc." Your mother whispered. Grayson can see just how much she's trying not to cry, a strong woman, just like you are. He almost felt so ashamed for crying, but then again, he was weak and vulnerable, he always had been. If he had been strong enough, he would have been able to control himself, he wouldn't have hurt you, they wouldn't have been here in the first place.
"Of course, I'll be back for further updates." Jean gave all of them a small smile before retreating back to the other end of the hallway, leaving the three of them with worried minds still.
Grayson sat back down and buried his face in his hands, his mind getting darker at the news he just heard, his anxiety doing nothing but making things a lot worse than it seems.
You were in pain, so much pain and he can do nothing about it except hope that you'll be alright. If he had a control over the universe, if he had a choice, heck he would trade places with you in a heartbeat, he would much have it be him than you in that hospital bed.
"Gray, I think you need to go home, have a shower and get some rest bro." Grayson looked at Ethan and shook his head no, "I'm not leaving until she's okay E. I want to be there for her when..." in case something happens. Grayson stopped himself before things get even darker in his head. He needs to get rid of all this negative thoughts, or else he'll start to lose his mind.
"Grayson honey, Ethan's right. Just take a shower and get a few hours' sleep, then come back. I'll be holding the fort for you don't worry." Your mother spoke, placing a soft hand on Grayson's shoulder with a reassuring smile on her lips and the sense of urgency in her eyes.
"I – I guess I do need a shower. I'll be back as soon as I can." Grayson stood up reluctantly and gave her a hug, not wanting to leave but he kind of does, he needs a new set of clean clothes, and he looks like a complete mess with the blood in his shirt and jeans. And maybe he'll bring some extras too as he is planning on staying the night with you.
"Come on bro, I'll drive you home." Grayson nodded as Ethan draped his arm over his shoulder, both brothers slowly making their way out of the hospital, but just as soon as they reached the parking lot, Grayson's phone rang.
Ethan pulled away to let Grayson fish his phone out of his pocket, giving Ethan a confused look when an unknown number flashed across the screen, after a few seconds, he answered it.
"Hello?"
"Good evening, is this Grayson Dolan?"
"Uh, yes? Who's this?"
"This is Officer Ronald from LAPD, I just called to inform you that we have found the driver involved in the accident thanks to the CCTV around the area. He was in fact drunk and under the influence of drugs. He will be held accountable for his actions."
Grayson felt his blood boil at what he just heard. He fucking knew it, a drunk driver out of all people. And to think about the fact that they didn't even stop to help.
This drunk driver was the reason why you're unconscious right now, why you're suffering in that hospital bed. His baby hurt just because of some asshole who decided it was a good idea to drive above the speed limit while intoxicated.
"Will it be okay if I can see him right now? I would like to have a word." Grayson said before he could stop himself, his hand holding the phone so hard he was scared it would break.
"Of course sir, we will be waiting for you."
Grayson ended the call, his jaw clenched as he marched his way towards the passenger seat. Ethan followed his brother with furrowed brows, especially with the way Grayson slammed the door shut too hard.
"Who was that?" Ethan asked as he clicked his seat belt on. "Drive me to the police station. They found him." Grayson mumbled, his knuckles clenching as he stared outside the window.
"Gray, you need to rel–" "Just fucking drive."
Ethan shook his head as he started the car, slowly pulling out of the parking lot and driving off, glancing at Grayson every now and then only to see him looking out the window, face stern with his hands still balled into fist.
"Grayson, promise me you won't do anything stupid." Ethan said firmly, eyes going back on the road. "Yeah, yeah I won't. I promise." Grayson brushed him off, but somehow, Ethan doesn't believe it one bit.
And he has every right not to believe him because once they stopped at the station, Grayson practically kicked the door open and stomped his way inside, Ethan struggling to keep up with him.
"Where the fuck is he?" Grayson growled, searching the room, and it wasn't that hard to find the driver considering that he and the police were the only ones there at this time of hour.
Startled, the man turned around to see who the voice belonged to, and when they locked eyes, all Grayson saw was red.
"You piece of–"
Before anyone could react, Grayson already had him pinned against the wall, both hands grabbing the collar of his shirt as he pressed the man on the concrete. The man remained unfazed with a smug smile plastered on his lips and this angered Grayson even more. He pulled him just an inch away from the wall just to slam him back with force, making the man cough, wiping that stupid grin off his face.
"Sir! Please put him down!" The police officer warned, his hand raised as he slowly inched closer in an attempt to control the situation.
"You fucking asshole! She's hurt because of you! Who gave you the fucking idea to drive while drunk and fucking high huh?! You could've helped but no, you ran like the fucking coward that you are!" Grayson yelled, the veins on his arms popping at how hard his was gripping.
"Maybe if your little girlfriend wasn't running in the fucking street she wouldn't have been hit you prick. Or maybe if you were fast enough, she could've been saved by her prince charming." The man taunted, chuckling deeply and without a second of thought, Grayson retracted his right hand, landing a hard blow on the man's jaw, making him spit out blood before turning his head back to Grayson, his smile still plastered on his bloody lips.
"Grayson! Stop!" Ethan rushed to his brother, quickly grabbing his hand before he could land another punch. "Let me go Ethan." Grayson said through gritted teeth, trying his best to pull his hands off of Ethan's grip, but the other twin wasn't letting him have it.
"Would you want to spend the night in a fucking jail cell or beside (Y/N) and be there for her?" Ethan said blatantly, and this made Grayson lower his hand slowly. "You're going to fucking pay for this." Grayson growled, pushing the driver hard before finally letting him go, turning on his heel as he left without another word.
Ethan sighed, turning to the police officer to discuss everything that needs to be sorted out.
Grayson on the other hand was fuming as he yanked the car door open, shutting it hard and letting out a frustrated yell, hands slamming at the dashboard in front of him.
What the driver said really hit a nerve. He thought it would be easy enough to blame it all on that fucking asshole but how can he when he knows he's also a big part of the reason why you're hurt too.
No matter what he does, or who he blames, everything just comes back to him.
With a deep sigh, Grayson buried his face in his hands, his tears starting to well up at the overwhelming situation. You were in the hospital, still unstable, maybe even barely clinging to life and the last thing that happened between you two was a heated fight.
Grayson couldn't stop the soft sob from coming out of his mouth just as Ethan pulled the car door open.
"What the fuck was that?" He started, ready to go on a full on rant but when he saw his brother's state, his expression softened, his scowl getting replaced by a deep frown almost instantly. "Gray, don't let what he said get into your head because it's not true. You did not want this, no one wanted this. And it was definitely his fault for being the reckless driver that he is." Ethan tried to talk him out of his constant self-reproach, but the younger twin only gave him a nod.
Grayson stayed in the same position in complete silence, trying his best to compose himself. God he was a mess both inside and out, and he couldn't think of anything to help get his head straight.
"Put your seatbelt on. Let's just go home." Ethan decided to drop it, turning the ignition on and waited for Grayson to get his seatbelt on before driving off.
Once they arrived at the house, Grayson went straight into his room to take a shower, maybe it'll help clear his mind a little.
When the hot water hit his skin, his body started to relax, but his head? Not so much. He just can't stop thinking about the worse, so he quickly got out of that confined space before his thoughts start to suffocate him.
He needs to be beside you, he doesn’t care how tired he is, he just needs to see you, to make sure you're alright so that he can at least keep his mind at ease. As quick as he could, Grayson changed into some sweats and a hoodie. He brought his backpack in his closet and stuffed it with more clothes and other things he needed because he wasn't planning on leaving the hospital until you do.
Grayson slung it over his shoulder before getting out of his room and walking straight to Ethan's room. He knocked on the door before opening it, finding his brother lying on his bed, phone in his hand. "E, I'm going back to the hospital."
"Wait, I'll drive you." Ethan began to stand up, but Grayson shook his head. "No it’s fine, I'm not sure if I'm coming back home anytime soon." Ethan frowned at this but he knew better than to protest.
"Okay, be careful Gray." Ethan noted, getting all concerned because he isn’t entirely sure if Grayson can drive safely with how his eyes show that he's been into his head too much.
"I will. Goodnight bro."
"Goodnight G. I love you."
"Love you too." Grayson gave Ethan one last nod before closing the door heading straight into his car as he made his way back to the hospital.
When Grayson got there, he went straight to where he left your mother only to find no one there. Confused, he turned back around and walked towards the front desk, giving the receptionists your name and finding out that they have finally moved you to the ICU, and this made Grayson worry even more.
He rushed towards the ICU just in time to see your mom getting out of it. "Grayson you're back." She greeted, a calmer expression on her face as she gave him a warm hug. "How is she?" Grayson asked once they pulled away.
"She's in a comma Gray. The doctor said there was swelling in her brain and that there's no certainty as to when she'll wake up but she's going to be okay, she'll get through this, she's a strong girl after all." She gave Grayson's hand a comforting squeeze.
Grayson swallowed the lump in his throat as he nodded, "Can I see her?" He asked, already itching to see her. "Of course, I'm just going back home to get a few things and I'll be right back."
"No, it's already late and it's an hour drive Mrs. (Y/L/N), and you need to get some rest too. I'll watch her, don’t worry."
"Okay, I do need to sort things out with work too. Thank you Grayson, for taking care of her, I'll be back in the morning." Your mom gave him one last hug before going on her way.
Grayson turned to face the door, his hand shaking as he reached for the doorknob, and when he opened it, his heart dropped on the floor.
There you were, lying on the bed with all this different machines hooked up on your body. Your right leg was enclosed in a cast, your arms covered in too many bruises and cuts, and Grayson could not even begin to imagine how many more there are underneath your hospital gown. Your head was wrapped in a bandage with a brace supporting your neck, eyes shut tight and your lips bruised too, but you still looked beautiful in his eyes, you always have.
Grayson didn’t bother to stop the tears from escaping his eyes as he slowly made his way to your side, whole body shaking just seeing the love of his life badly hurt. He dropped his bag on the floor as he sat down on the chair beside your bed, shaky hands reaching out to hold yours, being as gentle as he could scared to hurt you even more.
"(Y/N), baby…" He sobbed, leaning forward as he held your hand against his lips, looking up at your unconscious state as he cried his hear out, mumbling 'I'm sorry' over and over again.
"I'm so sorry baby, I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I'm so sorry this happened to you (Y/N), you don’t deserve this, you don't deserve to get hurt angel." Grayson whispered, shutting his eyes tight as he pressed your hand against his cheek, his heart aching and his breath heavy.
He stayed like that for a while until his eyes couldn’t produce any more tears, and before he knew it, he started to doze off, body slowly shutting down at how stress and worked up he's been and he lets it, falling asleep right by your side.
* * *
It's been two weeks and you still weren’t awake.
Grayson looks and feels like a complete mess.
He has been in the hospital almost 24/7, only leaving to go get more clothes and getting himself cleaned up or when your mom is around to give her some space alone. Ethan came everyday too, bringing Grayson some food and sometimes just to force him out to go home and get some much needed sleep where he was properly laid down on a comfortable bed.
You were recovering still. Your bruises were starting to fade and your cuts were slowly healing. The cast on your leg was still there though the neck brace and the bandage on your head was gone, the cut on your head close to healed.
The past few weeks has been the same thing, Grayson just staying by your side, hoping for the very best and waiting for you to open your eyes.
Every night when or whenever you two are alone, he'd talk to you, telling you how he feels and how much he misses you so bad. He misses your voice, your laugh, your smile, your touch, just everything about you. A few tears gets shed here and there but he's getting better at keeping himself together day by day, knowing he needs to be strong, with you and for you.
Today was no exception.
He was sat down beside you, fingers playing with yours as he kept his eyes fixated on your face, the face of an angel in his opinion. No matter how beautiful and peaceful you looked, Grayson needs to see those gorgeous (E/C) of yours.
"Open those eyes for me princess." He whispers under his breath, intertwining your hand and his and giving it a soft peck. Then all of the sudden, he felt it twitch in his grasp.
Setting it gently back down, he stared at your hand for a moment and nothing happened. He let out a huge sigh of disappointment. Maybe he was just imagining things, being sleep deprived and all. But when his gaze landed back to your face, he saw your eyes slowly beginning to flutter open.
Grayson shot out of his seat, quickly turning to face his brother who was sat in the corner of the room, face buried in his phone. "Ethan! Get the doctor!" He whispered yelled, and when Ethan looked up and saw Grayson's expression, he quickly stood up and ran outside.
His head snapped back to look at you when he heard you groan, and it took all his strength to stop himself from balling his eyes out once he saw you fully awake, eyes open as you scanned the room.
He rushed to your side, taking your hand back in his as he stood there with a huge smile plastered on his face. "Hey angel…" He whispered, an overwhelming amount of happiness overtaking his body. Grayson started to lean down to give you a kiss but when he saw the terrified look on your face he stopped himself, his smile slowly leaving his lips.
You started to pull your hand out of his hold, and Grayson frowned. "Hey, what's wrong?" Grayson tried to touch you but you flinched away, staring at him in utter confusion as you held your hand against your chest.
Grayson's heart stung at your reaction, his hands going limp on his side as he shook his head, not understanding what's going on. Were you still mad at him because of the fight? Did you really mean it when you said you were done?
He waited for you to talk, waiting for you to tell him to leave you alone, that you don't want him here. But when he finally heard your voice for the first time in weeks, he wasn't prepared to hear the words that came out of your mouth.
"Who are you?"
-:-:-:-:-
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Part 2 coming soon
#grayson dolan imagine#grayson dolan#grayson dolan one shot#grayson dolan x reader#grayson dolan fanfic#grayson dolan fanfiction#dolan twins#the dolan twins#dolan fandom#dolan twins imagine#dolan twins x reader#dolan twins one shot#dolan twins fanfic#dolan twins fanfiction#ethan dolan#grayson dolan fluff#grayson dolan angst#ethan dolan fanfic#dolan twins mini series#Ethan and Grayson#ethan dolan one shot#grayson bailey dolan#ethan grant dolan#my writing
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Chase Koeneke’s Top 10 Handheld Games of 2019
With the Switch in full gear and the debut of Apple Arcade, 2019 was another solid year for handheld games. Sequels to many of my favorite games were plentiful, but very few absolutely blew me away. And a few games I really loved (Slay The Spire, Return Of The Obra Dinn, Super Mega Baseball 2) were handheld ports of previous games I didn’t feel super great about adding to my list. So instead, I left this final year of the decade feeling content, and that’s perfectly OK too. So here are 10 games I liked this year, even if I didn’t love them.
10. Tetris 99 (Switch)
I love pretty much all iterations of Tetris. From the iconic Game Boy release I would play in the car, to the Facebook-based Tetris Friends that kept me company through many boring lectures in college, to last year’s gorgeous and powerful Tetris Effect, Tetris is A-OK with me.
Battle royale games on the other hand? Not so much. Despite enjoying shooters in general, I’ve yet to play a single match of PUBG, Fortnite or Apex Legends, and I’m not itching to change that anytime soon. But I found the mechanics of the battle royale genre to translate rather brilliantly to Tetris. It’s a thin experience (even with the expansions made to the game), but it’s an addictive one. And the fact I never quite crested the mountaintop – even if I did get a second place finish to video game Santa himself, Wario64 – is one of my biggest 2019 gaming regrets.
9. Mini Motorways (Apple Arcade)
Dinosaur Polo Club’s previous game, Mini Metro, made my top games of 2016 list, so it’s not surprising to see their latest game show up on this year’s list. What is a little surprising is how much of what could be said about Mini Metro can be echoed here on Mini Motorways. From my 2016 write-up:
Mini Metro wins my heart for its amazing ability to be serenely relaxing and nail-bitingly stressful simultaneously. Watching the train cars move back and forth around the sharp, minimalistic map brings a calming sense of satisfaction, but when the ever-growing amount of train stations hits critical mass, there were few experiences more harrowing this year. The basic strategy is smart and layered, preferring to let you experiment rather than tutorializing you to death up front.
You could remove the word “train” and get yourself a pretty accurate Mini Motorways review. But unfortunately, it’s not quite that simple. While I love a lot of what’s new in Mini Motorways – being able to create partial roads to better plan out cities from the start, colorful and sprightly graphics – the strategy and variety on display here actually pales to the previous game. One Mini Motorways upgrade, the traffic light, doesn’t even seem to function correctly. And the fun modifiers in Mini Metro’s different locations like Tokyo’s shinkasen are nowhere to be found here. Every city has a body of water to deal with, it’s just that some are slightly more of a pain than others. That’s not variety.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Mini Motorways and have put a lot of time into it. It’s my #9 after all. But if I had to pick just one to take up space on my phone, Mini Metro is getting that spot every time.
8. Risk Of Rain 2 (Switch, PS4, Xbox One, PC)
The first Risk of Rain also appeared on my games of 2016 list, and like Mini Motorways, the sequel is good, just not quite as good…and also feels a bit unfinished. But unlike Mini Motorways, Risk of Rain 2 made a bold change, ditching the two-dimensional world and sprite-based graphics for 3D polygons.
Bringing the z-axis to the tried and true roguelike mechanics of the original Risk of Rain makes for a new experience, for better and worse.
The worlds of RoR2 are bigger and more awe-inspiring. The 3D nature makes some classes and items feel more viable (like the melee Mercenary class) and it’s much easier to dodge incoming enemy attacks.
But the shift in perspective is anything but perfect. Just as enemies miss you more, so too will you often miss your own targets. The camera is both too close and yet also too far away, depending on the situation. The levels, after your inspired awe has left you, are barren, and the main objective of hunting for a teleporter to take you to the next area can be a frustrating venture as they are much more easily camouflaged in the polygonal zones.
It’s also just…not done. As of this writing, there’s no final boss fight, just a shrine that lets you sacrifice yourself to say you’ve “won.” There are missing classes on the menu and the artifact modifiers tab says “coming soon.” Last time I checked, the Switch was not an early access machine, and the fact that this version also gets a “Switch tax” makes it go down even more bitterly.
So why would a deeply flawed game like this make my list? Because the core loop of Risk of Rain is still better than most experiences out there. Stacking power-ups to near omnipotence is a blast, and running around with a friend or three in co-op is more fun than ever. Risk of Rain 2 may eventually become a great game someday, but for now, it’s a good game. And despite its issues, it’s still good enough for me.
7. Baba Is You (Switch, PC)
Sokoban meets coding logic; Baba Is You layers these puzzling elements to create something that feels familiar, yet fresh. It’s a simple concept: You push physical words around the self-contained areas to manipulate the level’s rules and collect a flag…or a different win condition if you’re clever enough.
Take the screenshot above for instance. “Baba is You” means you control Baba. “Flag is Win” means you need to touch the flag to win. But say you push the words “is Win” to vertically align with “Baba.” Now Baba is both you, the player and also the win condition, so you can forget the flag. You win automatically!
The puzzles continue in that fashion, ramping up the challenge very quickly (or maybe I’m just not very good at it.) I’m nowhere near mastering it, but for its highly inventive mix of environmental and logic problems, I’ve got an incredible amount of respect for it.
6. Assemble With Care (Apple Arcade)
I’m kind of down on Apple Arcade as a concept (I’d rather just pay for the few games I want and be done with it), but if games like Assemble With Care keep coming out, I might have to soften my stance. Assemble sees you repairing broken objects like rotary phones, cassette players and watches by using the touchscreen to pull objects apart, replace their busted components and piece them back together. It’s wonderfully serene: There’s no time limit, no logic-defying puzzle box qualities, no Operation-style buzzer if and when you make a mistake. It’s just nice.
A lesser game would leave it at that, but Assemble goes a step further, wrapping the repair mechanics with a short, satisfying story with solid writing and voice acting. It’s this year’s Florence, and while it may not be as impactful as that game, it’s a must play for anyone with an Apple Arcade subscription (or a good reason to burn your free trial if you’re not a subscriber).
5. Untitled Goose Game (Switch, PS4, Xbox One, PC)
Like Assemble With Care, Untitled Goose Game does not hang its hat so much on its mechanics as what it chooses to do with them. There are no fail conditions to Goose Game and what challenge it holds is relatively minimal. But it’s a true sandbox game in that it’s loaded the small town you inhabit with lots of little things to play with and discover. It’s Grand Theft Auto, except they’ve replaced carjacking and shooting with taking an old man’s stool or honking at a kid until he hides inside a phone booth. You’re an asshole, you’re just not a malicious asshole.
A list of tasks helps to keep you focused, but it’s more of a nudge in the right direction so you can discover something else to mess with or people to bother. And once the game is “over,” you get a new, more inventive list of tasks, all with the benefit of the entire sandbox available to you. It might not be the most complex game, but when it comes to the enjoyment of play, it’s one of the best this year.
4. The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening (Switch)
I’m well known for my aversion to finishing Zelda games. I’ve played almost all of them and have finished exactly two of them (Oracle of Seasons and A Link Between Worlds, probably not the two you’d expect). And despite enjoying it, even the original Link’s Awakening eluded me, so seeing it get an overhaul in the form of a Switch version excited me. Not only was this a second chance for me to play a classic, but it was also another opportunity for the world to see how great handheld games have always been.
Outside of the really well done tilt-shifted graphics, the remake is mostly made up of small quality of life improvements. The overworld isn’t as rigidly screen-based anymore, allowing the player a little more finesse in dealing with enemies. Some equipment, that on the original Game Boy version must be switched in and out ad nauseam, now has dedicated buttons on the controller (never again must you be without your sword). All these decisions allow for the charm of the design to shine through even easier than its original version.
Would it be nice if the frame rate were more consistent? Sure. Is the Chamber Dungeon a completely extraneous and half-baked idea? Totally. Does it tarnish the fun that’s there to be had here? Not in the slightest.
I’m proud to say Link’s Awakening has joined the pantheon of Zelda games I’ve actually finished. Now maybe someday I’ll finish that “Link to the Past” that everyone keeps talking about…
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3. Super Robot Wars T (Switch, PS4)
Super Robot Wars X made my list last year despite me having only played the PS4 version. So it feels a little more legitimate to have played the Switch version of Super Robot Wars T this year. It’s still not available in the US (you have to import a copy of the Asia version that comes with English subtitles,) and it’s still an extremely flawed game with its repetitive and uninspired level design and overly complicated systems, but man, I love this bad game so much.
I love tinkering in T’s dense mechanics, upgrading my anime mechs for perfect turn-based strategy synergy. I love jumping through hoops to find the right way to recruit new units. And I still love the over the top battle animations – seriously, if you’re bitching about Pokemon’s weak animations, the video above will show you Super Robot Wars has your back.
Plus they’ve added Spike Spiegel from Cowboy Bebop this time around, so there’s at least one recognizable character from a non-Gundam anime you’ve probably seen in here. That’s…progress.
Look, this game probably isn’t for you, but it is totally for me. And Christmas came early this year in that Super Robot Wars V (which came before last year’s X – the naming conventions are not here to make sense) got ported to the Switch, and last year’s Super Robot Wars X will get ported soon too. That’s a lot of anime turn-based strategy to play, and I couldn’t be happier.
2. Pokemon Sword/Shield (Switch)
After much Internet handwringing from an extremely vocal minority, the new Pokemon games came out. And, what do you know, they’re good. Really good. They continue the slow evolution (I’m so sorry) of the franchise with small quality of life enhancements, a few new features and a little trimming of the vestiges. I appreciate the renewed focus on gyms and gym leaders and the single connected world, even if it basically two circles with a straight bit in the middle.
The new Pokemon are…fine. Very few that I detest, but also very few that I’d be willing to write home about. The new Max Raid Battles are generally pretty cool, but they all take advantage of the gimmick I’m least thrilled about: Dynamaxing. Making a Pokemon bigger for three turns is not all that compelling to me. And the Gigantamax variants with their special appearances are neat, but it’s basically just a worse form of Mega Evolution.
So yeah, it’s a good entry in the series. And a good Pokemon game is pretty hard to top in my book.
1. Fire Emblem Three Houses (Switch)
Hard to top, that is, unless you’re Fire Emblem. But despite being a new game in my favorite franchise, I was actually dreading Three Houses. The pre-release coverage did not leave me optimistic. Old features I hated were making a comeback (cough, weapon durability, cough). The art style couldn’t hold a candle to the jaw-droppingly gorgeous previous entry, Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia. And whether Intelligent Systems was admitting it or not, there was a strong Persona-fication at play here (don’t get me wrong, I love Persona, but if you’re going to get your Persona chocolate in my Fire Emblem peanut butter, I’d rather you just make a sequel to Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE.)
So the hopes, they were not high. But Three Houses exceeded my expectations with a cast of characters I really grew to love. My loveable loser Golden Deer crew went from zeroes to heroes, and the ability to recruit students from other classes meant I got to make my dream team (Hilda, Petra, and Lysithea were my undisputed MVPs) when saving the world.
The story was deep and complex, and hearing how it changes based on which house you align with is pretty cool. I enjoyed the control I had in molding my students, and appreciated seeing them have a breakthrough in something they used to struggle with, and it becoming one of their best qualities. Turning a lazy, valley girl like Hilda into a front line tank and hearing her bitching about it every step of the way was especially enjoyable.
It’s not my favorite in the series, but I’m glad it’s seen pretty universal appeal and sales from the community at large, cementing its status as one of Nintendo’s premier franchises. Someday I will play through all four of its routes, but for now, I’m content with it comfortably sitting as my favorite handheld game of 2019.
#goty#gotggoty2019#chase koeneke#tetris 99#mini motorways#risk of rain 2#baba is you#assemble with care#untitled goose game#the legend of zelda link's awakening#link's awakening#super robot wars t#pokemon sword#pokemon shield#Fire Emblem Three Houses
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you’re so annoying | jongup
Word count: 2.7 k+
Genre/warnings: fluff with bits of angst
Summary: It was you versus your work that you had to be done with as soon as possible.. Versus Jongup who was just trying to get you to be in a good mood, but somehow ended up doing the opposite. Good thing he always somehow knew how to fix it all up.
"You're in the way."
"I don't exactly agree with that," Jongup mumbled while still in a sleep-riddled state, clumsily flopping down on the couch beside you and trying to wiggle himself into some sort of comfortable position, "Maybe the keyboard is in the way, not me."
"Weren't you sleeping?"
The yawn that escaped his mouth spoke for itself, and no further questions were needed. His back hit the couch, and his head found it's way to your lap where you immediately failed to resist the urge to fix some loose strands of his bedhead hair. His head was in your lap way too often, on the most different of occasions - when he was tired or upset, or when he was trying to relax and so on - and you'd learned not to mind him by now... Mostly.
Having him around always set you at peace, but he was also a major distraction.
"I was sleeping, but then I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep, and voila, now I'm here," he mumbled a quick re-cap of the last hour and carelessly tugged a blanket over his frame, less for warmth purposes and more because it just seemed like a self-explanatory thing to do, "And besides, the real question is why aren't you sleeping yet? It's past 2 AM already."
Of course he would ask, but by the way he'd made himself comfortable, it didn't look like he was about to tug you to bed anytime soon. It rather seemed like he'd just asked because of genuine curiosity.
It would be nice to just take a break and talk to him. He definitely had a lot to tell about today, and you were ready to listen to it all... Just cuddled up on the couch.. Running your fingers through his soft, freshly dyed hair.. God, his hair always looked so good, and felt so pleasant to the touch. You could never decide which hair color suited him best, as every time he re-dyed it, you said it was your favorite, until the next change, and then the next one, and then...
See? This is exactly what you were afraid of. He would distract you by just innocently being there, because no matter what you were doing, your thoughts always subconsciously drifted to him anyways.
"This is why I can't get anything done when you're home," you mumbled, looking back at the keyboard ahead of you. His chuckle made you less grudgy, simply because it was adorable, and so did the way in which he nuzzled his face into your sweatshirt and let out a sigh.
"I won't intervene, I'll just silently lay here, promised," he reassured, and though you knew that he probably would indeed just lie like a log, you also knew that your glance would way too often travel from the black and white keys over to inspecting his picture perfect features. But it was an urge you could try to fight. It's not like you had the heart to shoo him away anyways.
"You better," you mumbled, to which he chuckled again and fluttered his eyes shut. His face was pressed against your sweater and his only movements were from his light breathing. Up close he was even more beautiful, not that you didn't know already, you just got to silently appreciate again. For a moment at least, after which you reminded yourself to get back to working.
With another quiet huff, you went back to looking at the sheet music in front of you. Music could be both - extremely easy and extremely hard to write. Sometimes it came about on it's own, without you having to try and force it out of yourself, just having to scribble it down on paper while you still remembered all of these things that had rather randomly assembled themselves in your mind and imagination. But sometimes, especially when there were deadlines.. Sometimes it turned out like this. A total mess of lines, chords and melodies that refused to stick together. A bunch of.. Something, but not exactly something you were proud of. Rather something that you just wanted to scrap and start all over.
But you had to get it done soon. And you were extremely mad at yourself for not being able to do anything about the fact that you were extremely tired and extremely uninspired. It would be a miracle not to start crying, but you just took another deep breath and quietly mumbled for yourself to calm down. You could do it. You've always done it. This time wasn't any different. You just needed to calm down a whole bit and keep going on.
Time kept passing, and the page slowly started filling with more sheet music. Most "du-ba-du-bas" were starting to get replaced by lyrics that you finally started inserting in all the right places, though the atmosphere of writing made you rather scoff at the lines than be happy with them. Something didn't click. Something sounded too generic. There was still so much room for improvement, too much for you to feel proud about your work. And it was late already.. So damn late. You couldn't help but keep yawning endlessly.
Jongup being curled up on the couch with his head in your lap was the only source of comfort right now.
You glanced down at him quietly, humming a melody you knew you had to still work tons on to yourself. He really didn't intervene, as promised. What an honest man.
Another ten minutes later you were done with another section of the song, finally feeling like something came about. But even this little victory couldn't help the sour feeling in your chest. You could feel anxiety levels drifting up again.
You glanced down at Jongup, wondering if he was asleep or not. Before you could fall asleep yourself, you quietly sung that section again, and silently asked.
"How is this?"
One of his eyes creaked open, his lips curling into a little sideways smirk. You felt him shifting a little, and could sense that his response wouldn't be one to be taken seriously.
"Didn't you want me to stay quiet and not intervene?~" he asked mischievously, rising his brow.
Sure, he was trying to lighten the mood, and any other day of the week you would've found the innocent way he voiced it in cute. But you were really in need for an opinion, and this wasn't helping you much. You scoffed a little and turned away form him.
"You know, this is always the problem with you.. You're not exactly helping me with anything when I need it a lot."
The hum he let out in response showed his disagreement regarding your accusation. You yourself knew that this definitely wasn't the case, but oh well, maybe it would bring him to show some compassion.
"That's not true."
Your lack of reply seemed inevitable to him, and he simply continued to look up at your face, his eyes trying to find yours. You could feel his stare - it's warmth and comfort. The adoration he could never express in his words, not because he was bad with words but because he didn't think there was an appropriate way to describe what he felt. You knew that if you'd look back at him, you'd probably give in and melt. But you had to get your work done here, and he wasn't helping. Hence why you decided ignoring him for a bit would be more efficient.
"I bring you takeout when you're busy in the studio and make sure you get lunch~"
Left without reply again, he didn't really expect go get one in return right away anyways. The small smile from before stayed present on his lips.
"I'm your source of big comfy hoodies and sweaters~"
"Yeah, food and clothes.. Two things I could get on my own if I really needed them," you mumbled back at him, though your tone didn't quite match the sentence. He knew you didn't really mean it. By the tired look on your face, he also knew why you were so easily irritable.
Why he decided to poke your cheek, he didn't know - maybe just to gain back your attention. But the sudden and unexpected contact made you jump a little.
"You're so annoying," you swatted his hand away immediately, but at least he'd accomplished what he wanted, because for a second you glanced down at him to give him a disapproving glance. He got an idea just then and there.
“It's so annoying, don't interfere, just leave me alone~"
His use of his own song was quite clever and witty, but even that couldn't put a smile on your face. Your stare landed back on the sheet music and you exhaled loudly. You couldn't even take a joke anymore. This was rock bottom, it couldn't get any worse.
"Sometimes I feel like I subconsciously wrote this song about you," he quietly chuckled, and as he looked back up to your face, he hoped to see at least the smallest bit of joy or amusement sparkling in your eyes.
What he saw instead was your eyes getting watery.
"Hey, (Y/N).."
You felt him moving again and sitting up rather quickly, and your first instinct was to turn away from him. Yeah, as if that would hide anything at this point. There was a reason why he was suddenly jumping up like this, that reason probably being the fact that he saw the tears that threatened to make their way out of your eyes.
"Did I really upset you that much?" he asked quietly, trying to look at you, which you still weren't really allowing him to do, giving him no reply either. His hand quietly placed itself on your arm, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze before it traveled all the way up to your cheek and stayed there.
"I didn't mean to, you know that.."
"I'm just tired, that's it," you tried to reassure him, though heard how quiet and drained your own voice sounded, "And I can't get anything done, as you may have noticed.. And I’m so damn tired. Tired of having a blank mind and tired of just constantly being tired."
The stress was too much. It had been for a while already, but you always told yourself that crying yourself to sleep and putting yourself down was normal. You would simply try to live through it, although it seemed to be harder and harder to do so every day. There were so many responsibilities and only so much time. You weren't capable of doing it all on your own, not like this.
But Jongup's silent strokes against your cheek were reassuring, his silence that gave you time and space and at the same time didn't request you to explain yourself to him being comforting. He understood how it was getting no rest and feeling like you were failing, even if you weren't. You hated yourself a little bit more for being salty to him previously. He was just trying to make you smile and what did you do? Throw snarky replies. And now you were bothering him with being irrelevantly upset.
"Jongup, I-"
"Shh," before you could object, he simply silenced you, his arms enveloping you in a warm embrace and letting your face bury in his shoulder while his own pressed against your hair tightly, "It's okay. Take a breath."
Being tucked under his chin like this felt safe. He wouldn't judge you. He wouldn't feel disappointed by you if you didn't deliver high enough results. He understood that sometimes you just wanted to chill, not meet up everybody's expectations and such. He knew how being overworked felt, and that made you hold onto him tightly and take some time to just breathe in his scent. He's been there too. He knew it all too well.
"You're more than you give yourself credit for, do you know that?" he quietly asked you, pressing a kiss onto your hair as he rocked the two of you from side to side ever so lightly, "It's alright. You don't have to do everything on your own, you don't have to race to every deadline to make it there on time. It's alright to be tired. It's not alright to push yourself even further down that path though."
"Yah, don't make me feel guilty now," through you still had a mild knot in your throat, you managed to chuckle and ever so lightly smack his shoulder. You could hear his own little chuckle right next to your ear, followed by a small kiss pressed against your temple.
"My goal isn't to make you feel guilty," he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb tracing under your eye to wipe away any access tears that might've slipped, "It is to make you respect yourself as much as you respect others. To give yourself breaks when you need them, to not worry so much. The pre-chorus was amazing, I would fiddle around on the verses a little more. Who cares when the deadline is? We'll work on it tomorrow, together, and I'll try to pick up wherever you feel like you're completely lost. If someone in the company tries to hurry you, I'll call them out for it. You're human too. You need time to sleep and breathe, and be happy."
You giggled a little at the idea of Jongup trying to fiercely give a piece of his mind to somebody, simply because it was so unlikely. You rather imagined him awkwardly standing there and talking in a calm voice.. But his words would matter, not the tone or fashion he said them in. Something told you that he would get it sorted for you, even if he himself felt uncomfortable in the situation.
"And you should also realize that you shouldn't get upset about me calling you out for stuff~ Like the fact that you're so wrong when you're trying to tell me you could do just fine without me~"
"Yah, Moon Jongup," you called out and poked him, seeking how that made him chuckle. His nose scrunched up, his eyes became little crescents.. It was a typical Jongup laugh, one of those that made you fall in love with him.
"I mean, you could do without me," he admitted in a serious tone, "But you don't have to. I don't want you to."
The previous feelings long forgotten, you sat in silence and simply looked at each other. This is why you loved him. Everyone always made him out to be the silent guy, the bundle of awkwardness with lack of conversation-holding skills and tons of good looks and talents. But he was also a sincere, charming sweetheart who knew how to motivate and how to calm down. He was so much more than most people saw, and you were glad that you were someone who got to see him how he was.
"Are we just going to sit here in silence now?"
"It's your turn to speak," he reminded you of how the previous conversation had went, his eyes slowly trailing down to your lips, "Or can we end this conversation, agree that I'm right this time around and head to bed right after I kiss you?"
Sneakily played. You wrapped an arm around his neck and tugged him closer. Another fact that not many may knew about him was that he was a great kisser.. But maybe it was better for this knowledge to stay solely with you.
"We can definitely arrange that."
You chuckled as he accidentally pressed a few keys on the keyboard when moving, and quietly smiled at his lips found yours and locked with them effortlessly. The feeling was sweet and bubbly, and addictive to say the least. His arms scooped you up to his lap and you gladly moved there, light huffs and chuckles slipping back and forth through parted lips. His lap was your favorite place to be too, and you wrapped your arms around his neck gladly, letting the moment drag out for longer than first anticipated, just because why not? There was nothing inevitably stressful about the situation anymore, and maybe if there was, you tried not to think of it. For a short moment you could just allow yourself to taste his lips and once again be reminded of the fact that you weren’t alone in your troubles. There was exactly one person who would always hang around and make sure you weren’t going entirely insane.
"I mean, how can you live without that~"
He wiggled his eyebrows, making you roll your eyes at him. For proof, he went in for another quick kiss.
"I was taking about this, if you wondered~"
"You're so annoying," you repeated the phrase from before, putting a finger to his lips before he could make another singing reference to his song. The gesture made his eyes widen in surprise a little, making you look at him with a content smile gracing your lips.
"And I get it, you wrote the song of the century.. I'm proud of you too, my adorable fool."
He only smiled, and tried to withstand you squeaking and squirming as he lifted you off of the couch, leaving everything else behind as he carried you into the direction of the bedroom. Finally heading to get some well-deserved rest.
#b.a.p#bap#baplibrary#moon jongup#jongup scenarios#jongup scenario#moon jongup scenarios#bap jongup scenarios#b.a.p jongup scenarios#jongup imagines#jongup imagine#moon jongup imagines#b.a.p scenarios#bap scenarios#b.a.p scenario#bap scenario#b.a.p imagines#b.a.p imagine#bap imagines#bap imagine
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Congratulations, BECKY! You’ve been accepted for the role of GONERIL with an approved FC change to URSULA CORBERO. Admin Jen: Truly, Becky, you have left us speechless with this wonderful application! Your take on Grace was a bit unusual, and certainly not what I was expecting as I had established her in my mind as very cold and clinical. But the way you integrated emotions into her portrayal was brilliant -- it gave her a touch of volatility and extremism that accentuated the terror that Grace embodies so perfectly. I loved your future plots especially the evil scheme that you elaborated on and your writing sample left me trembling in both fear and admiration; everything just came together so intricately! I can’t wait to watch as she burns Verona to the ground! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.
WELCOME TO THE MOB.
Out of Character
Alias | Becky
Age | 22
Preferred Pronouns | she/her
Activity Level | I’ve sold my soul to you now, I can’t ever leave
Timezone | Ok so I wrote BST on Odessa’s app but the rest of the UK gang put GMT (time is a social construct and I’m actually a cosmic entity floating around the globe giving u all forehead kisses)
Current/Past RP Accounts | x x
In Character
Ok so I know you didn’t exactly accept her as an FC for Grace but I’m hoping you warm to edgy-looking neo-noir Úrsula Corberó once you’ve read the app. I admit that my idea of Grace may not be quite what you’re looking for but I wanted to give applying for her a shot because I love me Hot Mess of a character! (but I am also happy to come up with alternatives if not)
Is evil something you are?
Or is it something you do?
Character | Grace ‘Goneril’ Daly
What drew you to this character? | So like any good prophecy/vision/intervention of fate, I woke up one morning with a mighty need to play a character who is Odessa’s opposite, the black fur coat leather skirt cigarette ash psycho babe to my honey sweet lace and silk angel of retribution, so I’ve sort of been slyly waiting for Grace’s bio to be released.
It’s her contrast to Odessa that initially drew me in with the chance to explore another character whose existence and presence in Verona revolves around her father’s ties to a mob, but resulting in a drastically alternate result. It will be very different playing a character who doesn’t particularly have a motive for killing (beyond self-preservation and power-lust) and is loyal to only herself.
Whilst I would usually play a character like Grace as being a cold-hearted, emotionless ice queen, I feel as though Grace is better suited to burning. She is a slave to her emotions, the rise and fall of them dictating her mood, all while highly strung and fuelled by a chaotic form of energy. You can very much tell when she is happy and when she is not. She’ll cry in front of you just as gladly as she’ll laugh and kiss you. She’s unkind, ruthless, impulsive, emotional, and she’s ready to antagonise people to her tar-black heart’s content.
Character inspo: Azula from Avatar, Jennifer Check from Jennifer’s Body, Bellatrix Lestrange from Harry Potter, War from Good Omens.
Trope inspo Alpha Bitch, Ambiguous Disorder, Blatant Lies, Daddy’s Little Villain, Go-Getter Girl, Hair-Trigger Temper, Improbable Weapon User, Jerkass, Sadist, Spoiled Brat, Virtue is Weakness.
What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |
i. A masterplan;
Step One: Grow to become an important part of the mob you were all but born into. Turn yourself into the perfect player, capable with weapons and unblinking in the face of danger.
Step Two: Leave them. Join their rivals. Prove yourself to them by dispatching of a few former associates, low hanging fruit. Become just as relevant within their ranks.
Step Three: Collate what you have learnt about the two mobs. Their strengths, their weaknesses. Make a few friends with similar goals to yourself. Corrupt them.
Step Four: Start your own mob. You now know your enemies intimately. You know what it takes to break them. Bit by bit, steal Verona out from under their noses. Laugh at their mistakes and dance in the ashes of their burning empires as you build your own.
Step Five: Be remembered forever.
ii. The double agent;
Traitor. Grace wears the title with pride, her smile sharp when she comes face to face with both Capulets and Montagues alike. Slinking from one mob to the other was a seemingly effortless transition, welcomed by none other than Damiano himself. She fed him information about Cosimo and his crew, spilling secrets around the end of her lipstick-stained cigarette. It was an easy way in, but now that she’s settled amongst her new comrades she finds herself looking back across the bridge with interest. Power is power but information is advantageous – Grace isn’t above feeding Montague-whispers back to her old associates, not if it means she wins friends on both sides of Verona. That way, it’s impossible for her not to win this war.
iii. Sisters, sisters
Regina and Catherine. Both are equally as disgraceful to the Daly name – one can’t even bring herself to be enthusiastic about the opportunities that lie, shiny and golden, before them, and the other flutters her lashes and talks of peace, of all things. Grace has never paid them much attention, but now that she’s sided with the Montagues she’s realised that the Capulets could do with having their numbers thinned. Whether she’ll try to convince them to switch sides with her for the Montague brownie-points or simply wipe her sister off of the face of the earth forever remains to be seen, but if Regina and Catherine think they can keep their heads down and get away with making the Dalys seem anything less than destined for greatness, they’ve got one hell of a storm coming.
Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | I sure am, same goes for Odessa now, it’s time to make like Grace and embrace reckless abandon
In Depth
In-Character Para Sample:
She is the thing watching you from the edge of the road, where long grass shivers with the motion of something far more alive than it has any right to be; a pair of eyes that glint in the final rays of the sunlight’s reaches, bleached white enamel teeth ready to sink themselves into those who mistake the night’s cloak as a thing to hide under rather than be consumed by.
She is fresh fruit in the heat, a slow rotting taking place at the centre disguised by mouth-watering scents and a flesh that glistens under the sheen of morning dew. Decay is a dance, slow and tantalising, the heart turning to a sticky dark mess that slides through the fingers of anyone who dares to try and save it.
She is a doctor who has never been able to stop her hands from shaking at the prospect of a new body, eager to pick up the scalpel and press it down into soft flesh, revealing a mass of life clinging to the bones. Her favourite colour is red, the sort that looks black in the evening, droplets turning to pools that spread through pressed shirts and silk pyjamas like tears on pillows. There’s blood on her hands, not always metaphorical. She licks it off, rarely quite satisfied.
Grace fucks like the meeting of hips will reveal the monster that lies beneath her, as though touching there and there and there will unlock ribcages and unleash what’s trapped inside of hearts. But to understand why, you must crawl inside her skull and make sense of what lurks there beneath the smoke of burning houses and vultures picking at once-satisfied things–
“Please take a seat,” Damiano says, and Grace lingers before lowering herself onto the chair, her gaze gliding over the mahogany desk between them before raising to study the man himself.
He smells like her father. That’s the first thing she notices, the faint cologne. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes and the signet ring on his finger keeps catching on things, releasing a dull metallic sound each time. His presence is more regal than Cosimo’s and yet she finds herself thinking the exact same thing – you aren’t worthy.
These men had all inherited their empires, passed down like heirlooms, and as a result they had become lazy. Content. Uninspiring.
“I’m very happy to be here,” she chimes pleasantly. “However… unexpected it may be.” She doesn’t tell him how much she wants this. Doesn’t explain that being welcomed into the inner sanctum of the Montagues is as pleasing as a night of post-murder hot sex. “I’ve always been a huge fan of your work.”
Damiano doesn’t laugh, but he doesn’t need to. Grace is well aware that she wouldn’t have gotten this far if he didn’t intend to offer her something. “I have a proposition.”
I bet you do, she thinks, her well-orchestrated plan playing out like the sweetest of songs. Black-nail-polished fingers press to her chest, feigning surprise. “For me? Damiano, you’re spoiling me.” The words curl up from her lips like tendrils of cigarette smoke. She punctuates them with a light laugh.
The deal is a simple one: information for protection. Spill some secrets to join the ranks. Grace does so without blinking, switching silver for gold, and slowly the pieces begin to fall into place. As with any self-proclaimed god, she grazes her knees on carpet to say thanks to Damiano, sacrifices those she’s left behind, and fills her head with only the loveliest visions of tearing his and Cosimo’s empires to the ground.
Extras:
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Time for more of ‘Becky attempts to write headcanons’:
Her parent’s little angel turned little devil. Spoilt from a young age, she soon learnt that she could get away with near enough anything provided she smiled sweetly to her parents and told them just how much she loved them. When her sisters were born, the attention that had been on her drifted and Grace found that she had to work harder and harder to hear her name on her parent’s lips.
Grace grew up restless. Her ambitions would flit like moths around a lightbulb, becoming half-planned dreams and broken things. It wasn’t until she was rushed to hospital following a road traffic accident* (which resulted in the removal of a kidney) that she decided to train to become a paramedic.
*Her parents later suggested that it was no accident and had in fact been planned by the Montagues,
As a paramedic, she always manages to be first on the scene when an incident linked to the mobs is called in. Strategically, if someone fails to complete a murder she can finish the job herself, or silence any witnesses. Similarly, it also gives her the opportunity to plant fake evidence or remove weapons from the scene. For those evading the eyes of the authorities, she can also help those who have been hurt and can’t risk a trip to the hospital.
She is resourceful and will use whatever is to hand as a weapon. Has been known to dish out the odd black eye, broken nose, crushed windpipe, and acrylic nail scratches. Her father himself trained her to use a pistol and rifle under the guise that he was teaching her to hunt (which, technically, wasn’t a lie – they just never specified the quarry).
She lives by 3 important rules. One: trust only those you would die for. Two: protect what is yours. Three: if something is boring or unimportant, do not waste time on it.
Grace needs to be needed and wants to be wanted. She can’t stand shrinking into shadows and being forgotten. No, she must remain the life of the party and attract the attention (be it good or bad) of everyone.
She was once arrested and fined for drunk and disorderly behaviour on whilst on holiday in England. She slept it off in a cell and was released the next morning with a hefty fine.
She is a big fan of piercings and has a stick n poke shark on her ribs.
Inspo quotes:
“I’m a slave to my emotions, to my likes, to my hatred of boredom, to most of my desires.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise.
“Her mood is cruel, her nature dangerous. Her will fierce and intractable” – Euripides (translated by Philip Vellacott), Medea
“But if these years have taught me anything it is this: you can never run away. Not ever. The only way out is in.” – Junot Diaz, The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao
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I’ll Just Give You Me
I....decided to post my lil fluffy Taylor and Evelyn thing because fluff warms my soul (I’m writing more even though I should be sleeping oops...)
This is just...them being cute, and me trying to figure out how to write them too xD
Oh and “Five Foot Three” ALWAYS makes me think of Evelyn so, like I don’t know I just love it for her <333
It had been a long day. Leaning against the door, Taylor kicked off his shoes, and pulled off his vest – tossing it onto the arm of the couch before flopping down on the cushions.
Taking off his glasses, Taylor rubbed his eyes, the lack of sleep last night catching up to him. Mia was behind it, as usual, but it was her lack of texting that had kept him up, not the usual memes. He knew she had been on a mission and she always texted him afterwards to let him know what had happened, but last night she didn’t reply until almost four in the morning. That plus getting up for a 9 AM class had resulted in a very uninspiring work day.
“Long day?”
A smile grew on Taylor’s face as he felt someone flop down next to him on the couch. Poking an eye open, he saw Evelyn facing him, her head tilted, a sympathetic smile highlighting her face.
“The longest.” Readjusting his position, Taylor leaned forward, resting his head on her stomach, a tired groan escaping his mouth, half joking, half serious.
“Oh, you poor thing.” It was teasing, Taylor knew, but despite that a hand started running through his hair.
“It’s Mia’s fault,” he muttered.
“You can’t always blame your sister for everything you know, but I’ll give you this one because she did wait way too long to let you know she was okay.”
Turning his head, Taylor looked up at her. “What about you, how was your day?”
Evelyn looked up for a moment, she bit her lip as if trying to hold back a smile. “Well, aside from some stupid paparazzi ambushing me outside of the store…it was good.”
“I’ll fight them for you if you want.” Taylor grinned up at her and her gaze returned to him, and though she rolled his eyes, he could still see the affection brimming underneath the humor. And despite being married for a few years now, it still made his heart race just a little.
“That’s sweet of you darling, but you know that only makes it worse.”
“I know, but I still would if you wanted. I know how to play them.”
A laugh escaped her mouth and he felt his chest tighten a little, gosh she was so perfect.
Silence passed over them and Evelyn ‘s hand continued to run through his hair, though her gaze was far off.
“Alright…what’s up?”
“What?” Her gaze snapped back down to him, before looking up again.
“There is something on your mind. Come on Ev, I know something’s up.”
Once again, she bit back a smile. “Okay…but I have to go get it.” She pushed his head and he sat up, watching as she walked off.
Curiosity bubbled in Taylor’s chest, warding off the tiredness in his bones. The seconds ticked by and he found himself standing up, maybe he was supposed to follow. But just as he stood up, Evelyn walked back in, hiding something behind her back.
Walking forward, Taylor tilted his head. “So…?”
The expression on her face made him pause, she looked excited, but when he looked closer it almost looked like tears were brimming in her eyes. A small spark of worry hit his chest, and he gently grabbed her shoulders, tilting his head down so he could look her right in the eyes.
“Ev, is everything okay?”
A small laugh escaped her mouth and a smile lit up her face even as a tear fell from her eye. Then she pulled out a hand from behind her.
For a second, Taylor didn’t know what he was looking at. Then it registered.
“Wait…Ev, are…are…?” Even as he tried to fumble out the question, he felt tears building up in his eyes.
“You’re gonna be a dad, Taylor.”
“I-“ A tear fell down his face as a laugh escaped his mouth and he wrapped his arms around Evelyn as a happy sob escaped his mouth. Then he pulled back, cradling her head in his hands, wiping at the tearstains on her cheeks with his thumb.
“We’re gonna be parents, Ev.” More tears built up in his eyes and she nodded, another laugh escaping her mouth.
Taylor couldn’t even process what he was feeling, excitement, joy, maybe a little fear. It all blurred together. But over all of that was an overabundance of love, it bubbled over until he couldn’t hold back and he pulled her in, kissing her.
A laugh bubbled up from her mouth again and he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. “I love you.”
Evelyn smiled, but then she dipped her head, resting her head on his shoulder. Then a quiet “What if I mess it up?”
“What?” Taylor glanced down at her. “You could never mess anything up.”
She glanced up at him and he saw worry sparkling in her eyes. “I don’t know if I’m ready to be a mom yet, Taylor, I just…”
“Hey.” Taylor lifted up her chin so she was looking at him. “We are in this together, okay?”
The corner of her mouth rose and she nodded. “Okay.”
“And hey, we can always ask my parents for help too. I don’t remember it but apparently my dad was surprisingly good with little kids.”
“When…when do you think we should tell them…?”
Taylor rested his head on hers. “When you’re ready.”
“I love you.”
Warmth filled Taylor’s chest as he pulled her closer. He really was the luckiest guy on the planet.
Evelyn was exhausted, it had taken ages for Leah to fall asleep and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for a day, but that wasn’t the life of a parent. It was hard, but it was worth it.
As she poked her head into Ed’s room to see if he was ready to be tucked in, she barely held back a laugh. Ed was sitting on his bed, looking at the book that was in Taylor’s hand, but Taylor himself was fast asleep.
Ed spotted her and pointed to Taylor. “Daddy fell asleep while reading.”
Letting out a quiet laugh, Evelyn nodded. “I think Daddy had a long day.”
Walking forward, she gently pulled the book out of Taylor’s hand. “Did he finish it?”
Ed shook his head. “But that’s okay, I know how it ends.”
“You sure?”
“Yup!”
“Okay.” Evelyn reached over to wake up Taylor but Ed quickly interjected.
“No! He can sleep here!”
She couldn’t help but smile. “But the bed isn’t big enough for both of you.”
He looked at the bed, and then at his dad. “I think it’s big enough.”
“That’s sweet of you, Ed, but I think Daddy would rather sleep in his bed, don’t you think?”
A pause. “Okay…”
Reaching forward, she rustled his hair. “But I’m sure he would appreciate the offer.”
Gently shaking Taylor’s shoulder, Evelyn giggled as he shot up, looking around quickly.
“Wha?!? Are we late for school, where…?” His voice trailed off as he took in his surroundings. “Oh…did I fall asleep?”
Ed laughed. “Yeah, before the turtle got to his friend’s house.”
“Oh man, I’m sorry buddy. I can finish it now though.” Taylor looked around for the book, but as Evelyn handed it to him, Ed piped up.
“That’s okay Daddy! I can sleep without the end.” Ed flung his arms around Taylor then snuggled into the sheets before his dad could react.
“You sure?”
A nod.
“Alright, well goodnight kiddo.”
After kissing him goodnight, Taylor got up and walked out to the door, waiting for Evelyn to say goodnight too before walking with her to their room.
“Man, that’s the second time this week I fell asleep.”
Evelyn glanced up from the book she was trying to read – not wanting to go to sleep until Taylor was ready, despite being exhausted.
“Don’t beat yourself up, Tay, you’ve been working hard and we’ve had some late nights.”
“You mean Mia has…I mean I love her and of course I’m going to be there for her still, but…I wish our schedules lined up a little better.” He flopped onto the bed and sighed. “Remember when we thought having one kid was hard?”
Putting the book aside, Evelyn, turned on her side to look at him. “Oh yeah…those were the days, hm?”
He gave her a tired smile. “Being woken up by only one kid, sometimes being able to sleep in till seven…”
She looked at him and saw the happiness in his eyes. Then he pulled her into his arms, his chest vibrating against her ear as he spoke again.
“But I wouldn’t go back if you paid me.”
“Me neither.”
#taylor james stark#evelyn dayier#taylor stark#mcu ocs#ocs#my ocs#fankids#pepperony fankids#tony stark#because HE WOULD BE SO GREAT WITH KIDS FIGHT ME#my writing#i added in another part....#the names are...temporary maybe but i like them so maybe not?#man it's late again....hnng i need to go to bed earlier
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Crutches (SB.)
A/N: I feel like this is bad, so I’m sorry, but I’ve had no motivation to write. Fucking writer’s block messes with you, seriously I wrote a really dramatic version of my friends story about a girl losing er flip flop to try and inspire myself and it did not work.Also, I was about half way through proof reading this when I got bored and just stopped.
Requested: (I combined two because I’m just that lazy... and uninspired)
@gingergremlin: Hey, could you do a Sirius x reader (or one of the other marauders) when the reader gets injured in a quidditch match and can't walk without crutches. during one of the marauders pranks or something one one or both breaks. Then because Sirius feels bad he said he will carry her until she is better. You can't workout the ending 😊Sorry if the request is long, pa love your writing 💜💜
@huflerin: Im not sure if you do requests, but if you do I was wondering if you could do a young sirius black x hufflepuf/slytherin reader (like harry but hufflepuff insted of gryffindor) thats a girl. Please, and if you do it thank you.
Pairing: Young!Sirius Black x Hufflepuff!reader
Word Count: 2161
Warnings: Swearing, injuries
Masterlist
Quidditch was by far the most popular wizarding sport in Europe, which meant you either played it or you watched it, but everybody loved it. I was a player and a damn good one as my friends put it. Being able to get on a broom and play the sport was one of favourite things to do. I loved the rush from diving down and pulling back up at the last second or the wind blowing the hair out of my face as I flew along side my friends. As soon as I had gotten to Hogwarts, I tried out for the team. It wasn’t until my third year when I finally made it, alongside my friend, James Potter. He was a chaser for Gryffindor and I was a beater for Hufflepuff. My friends always told me that I was a beater because I had a bit of a temper and that I acted a bit more like I should be in Slytherin instead of Hufflepuff. Now, in our sixth year, we were still playing and James was currently the Gryffindor captain. This meant that the celebratory post-win parties were three times as big, loud and long, as he and Sirius had them planned out days in advance.
Today was game day, Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff (a.k.a. The game that James and I get really competitive in, as we both want to win just so we could brag about it to the other) Lily and I had just entered the Great Hall to have breakfast. Entering the hall, we immediately spotted the Marauders being their usual loud selves. James was already dressed in his red and gold uniform, as I was in my yellow and black one. He waved when he saw me.
“Oi, Y/L/N! Ready for today?” He called. He always called me by my last name when we were on the pitch. I guessed he was already in that set of mind as he had his snitch out and he was tossing it around more than usual.
“Oi, Potter! Aren’t chasers supposed to go after the quaffle?”
“Shut up.” He laughed as Lily and I sat next to Remus and Peter on the other side of the bench. That’s when I realized that there was one person missing.
“Um, where’s Sirius?”
“Oh, you will never guess what your lovely little boyfriend did this morning.” Said James.
“What? Did he do something stupid? Is he in detention?”
“No, nothing like that. He actually managed to convince Minnie to let him be the announcer for today’s game.”
“No way! How the fuck did he manage to do that? I never would have thought he would be allowed anywhere near that microphone.”
“I don’t know. The only time I’ve seen him today was when he told me and then he ran off to get ready or something.”
“Okay then.” I said, still confused as to why Professor McGonagall would let Sirius Black have access to a microphone at an event the entire school would be attending. There was no use in questioning the boys, as they clearly didn’t know anything. I continued to eat breakfast although I didn’t have very much. I always felt a little off before a game.
An hour later, I was mounting my broom in the middle of the pitch, mentally preparing myself for that would be starting in a few seconds. I looked across from me at the Gryffindor team and caught James’ eye. He was staring me and mouthing “You’re going down” with a smile on his face. I smiled back and flipped him off while keeping my hand close to me, so that a professor wouldn’t see. He chuckled and turned his attention back to the quaffle which was just about to be released.
The game moved fast, which I was accustomed to, but today I still had these nerves in the pit of my stomach. This was unusual as they always disappeared the second I got on my broom. Now it felt as though the game was moving too fast. I didn’t even remember that the voice announcing everything that was happening belonged to Sirius until I saw a bludger go whizzing past the front of my broom.
“Gryffindor beater, Johnson sends a bludger straight at Hufflepuff beater, Y/L/N! I don’t care if you're in my house, Johnson, I’ll break your neck if you try to hurt my girlfriend again!”
“Black!”
“What? I’m just warning him Professor. It’s the polite thing to do.”
I laughed along with the crowd and looked up in the direction of the stands to see Professor McGonagall glaring at Sirius, but not making him put the microphone down.
I continued on flying and after fifteen minutes, the score is tied 50-50. The wind began to pick up and hair was getting blown in front of my face. I flew away from the action for a second to fix it. I drew out my wand and did a spell I had learned specifically for quidditch, knowing that it was impossible to fly while barely being able to see.
After my hair was pulled up, I was about to fly back to where I could see the bludgers flying around when I tuned back into Sirius’ comments.
“Abbott has the quaffle and is racing towards the goal posts! Potter’s right beside her, looking for his chance to take it from her! Here comes Johnson and he has hit a bludger at her… it worked! Distracted, Abbott has lost the quaffle to Potter! Merlin, that bludger was fast! No wonder it- Y/N WATCH OUT!”
I had my back turned from the action, going after the second bludger that was going in the opposite direction. At Sirius’ shout, I turned my head and hit the one that he had been trying to warn me about. My arm came over my head, hitting the ball from above. I didn’t have enough time to aim and as my bat collided with the bludger, I knew it wasn’t going to help. The bludger began to go towards the ground, but hit the back of my broom on the way, causing it to break. Instead of going straight down, the ball’s path curved, sending it underneath my broom and hitting my right leg hard.
My broken broom and I began spiraling down to the grass. One of my nearby teammates was quick and collided with me before I reached the ground. I unwrapped my hand from the handle of the broom, letting it fall and break into a couple more pieces. My teammate let me down onto the ground next to my broom. As soon as I got off his broom, I collapsed, not being able to stand on my leg.
All of sudden, Madame Hooch was in front of me, Sirius right behind her. They started asking me if I was okay, but I was in too much pain to concentrate. I heard Madame Hooch say that my leg was broken and then I felt someone put a charm on me, so that I was incredibly light. Sirius grabbed my arm, pulling me up. He helped walk all the way from the pitch to the hospital wing. In the back of mind, I wondered what was going on back on the quidditch field. Would they find a backup beater and keep playing or would the game be postponed? Probably the former.
Sirius helped me over to a bed and made sure I was comfortable before Madame Pomfrey came over and began to examine my leg. She told me that broken legs were easy to fix, but because of the way mine was bent and the place it was broken, she wouldn’t be able to fix it completely.
“Now, there is something I can do here, but you will probably have to walk with crutches for a week or so.” She told me. Sirius looked very confused.
“What are crutches?” He asked.
“It’s a muggle thing, Padfoot. They help you walk when you do something to your leg.” I explained to him. Sirius still looked confused, but I was pretty sure he didn’t want to make me answer any more questions while I was in pain.
Madame Pomfrey let me leave the hospital wing on crutches the next day. Sirius and the other marauders helped me carry my books from class to class, but after a few days of not doing much other than helping me get up and down the stairs, I could tell they were getting bored. I wasn’t surprised when I found them preparing a prank for a group of particularly nasty 7th years. Immediately, I wanted to be in on it. I may be a Hufflepuff, but that didn’t mean I was innocent.
We were all in position for the prank. Sirius had made sure I wasn’t in the centre of the action, so I was now standing off to the side to watch after helping them prepare for it. As soon as the 7th years spotted me, they were suspicious. They walked up to me and starting questioning me as to why I was here.
“Hey, Y/L/N, what are doing all alone?” One of them asked me.
“Yeah, where’s your little boyfriend? He’s been following you around like a sad puppy ever since you got hurt.” Another said. Before I could answer, Sirius was out of his hiding spot and right by my side.
“Leave her alone, guys.” He said, pulling me away from the group.
“Come on, Black! Where are you going? We were only talking.”
Just then, a bucket of powder fell from the ceiling, covering the boys in green powder. Sirius smiled at me and I laughed. They couldn’t see anything and started to trip over each other. A couple of the ended up on there asses while one who had been talking to us before pulled out his wand and started yelling.
“That was you, Black, wasn’t it?! You and your friends?! You’re gonna regret that!” He yelled after us. Sirius just laughed at him until a hexes were shoot from the group, straight towards us. The first one missed us. A second one just about hit the face of Sirius’ head. Then a third spell was fired, but I could tell that it wasn’t just a simple hex, this was a curse. I tried to move, but the crutches prevented me from getting anywhere fast. I could see the spark aiming down and before I could do anything, it had hit my uninjured leg. I cried out in pain and just before I fell over, Sirius caught me. The curse stung my entire leg and I knew there was no way I could stand let alone walk right now.
“What is going on here?!” I hear Professor McGonagall shout from behind us.
No one says anything for a moment, knowing that we were all in hot water at the moment.
“Well? Mr. Black? Would you care to explain why you are holding up Miss. Y/L/N?”
“These blokes threw a curse at her! I don’t know what it was, but I don’t think she can stand.”
“No, I can’t.” I interjected.
“Are you in pain?” She asked.
“A little bit.” I said quickly, trying to find a way to not have any pressure on my leg. It seemed impossible as I couldn’t really put much on the previously injured ones either. Sirius could see this and picked me up bridal style while trying to be conscious of how he was holding my newly damaged leg.
Professor McGonagall put the boys in detention. They tried to defend themselves and blame Sirius and I for the powder, but Minnie didn’t pay attention to them and cleaned it up with a simple spell.
“Now for you two. Although this is not the first time you’ve been involved in creating a mess like this, I’m sure it will be the last.” She gestured to my injury.
“Absolutely, Professor. I can assure you, I’ll do anything to keep Y/N from getting hurt again.” Sirius said. I smiled up at him.
“Good. Now, Mr. Black, could you please take Miss. Y/L/N to the hospital wing? I would give you detention, but I’m sure you’ll have your time taken up from helping her get around.”
“Of course.” Sirius said and began to walk in the direction of the hospital wing.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I should’ve-”
“Sirius, it’s not your fault.”
“But I could’ve-”
“Don’t do that, okay? I’m fine. I just can’t walk. Besides, it’ll all be worth it when the powder kicks in and they wake up tomorrow with green hair.”
He laughed, “You know what’s even better? Minnie got rid of any evidence that it was us who did it.”
“So other than my messed up leg, it was a pretty successful prank.”
“Yeah, I guess it was.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: Sorry for the shitty ending😂but as I mentioned before, WRITER’S BLOCK. Anyway, send in requests and asked to be tagged.
Taglist (All Stories):
@latenightbooknerd
#sirius black#young sirius black#sirius x reader#sirius#x reader#marauder era#imagine#marauders era#marauders#harry potter universe#reader insert#reader imagine#remus lupin#young remus lupin#peter pettigrew#young peter pettigrew#lily evans#james potter#crutches#one-shot
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how Yuuri!!! on Ice last episode nearly ruined the whole thing for me
three words: failed character development
my biggest fear watching anything is that how the end is going to ruin it for me and that’s why I usually wait for the last episode to drop before deciding to watch it. but not with YOI. I love this anime so much like I have stopped watching anime for a looooong time but this show is just irresistible like healthy relationships all around, canon gay couple where one of them isn’t white, good music, diverse characters. I can go on all day. And yet I feel like it has missed a big opportunity with both Yuuri’s and Viktor’s characters based on how poorly the last episode was executed (also it seemed a bit rush?) and after much thought I decided to write down my feelings toward last episode.
so Yuuri’s most obvious arc thorough the whole show is his growing confidence, and how ‘love’ helps making him stronger. At the beginning, his self-esteem is so low that even though he qualified for the GP final he still thought he was one of those ‘a-dime-a-dozen’ skaters. Then, with help and ‘love’ from Viktor, he slowly gained confidence in himself, found his way to make the Eros program his own, came up with a good FS that he chose the music for and was then able to qualify for the GP final again. But it was apparent that he never stopped worrying about Viktor leaving (perhaps more than anything) because he wasn’t good enough.
Viktor’s arc was a bit blurrier. It wasn’t until the last three episodes that the show made clear that Viktor left because he was feeling uninspired, and that he felt like he had devoted too much of his life to skating and forgot to just live and enjoy life. He hadn’t a chance to ‘live’ and ‘love’ until he came to Japan to coach Yuuri. It was implied that he preferred the life he’s living now to the one before even though the one before was filled with glory. Now he could actually spend time with Makkachin and relax instead of practicing and competing. So it was clear to me that there were two possible ways to develop both of their arcs and relationship
1. Yuuri gains enough confidence in himself and stops worrying about Viktor leaving.
2. Yuuri worries about Viktor leaving still but Viktor does something/somehow manages to reassure Yuuri that he’s not.
The last minute of episode 11 made me believe that scenario 2 was going to happen. After all, scenario 1 was more unlikely given a person couldn’t just suddenly gain that much confidence in such a short time. And it would be nice because it would have added depth to Viktor’s character. Up to episode 10 it was unclear what Viktor’s purpose/motivation for coaching Yuuri was. People don’t do things just because, they do things because they have an agenda. So having Viktor explaining things to Yuuri would have made Viktor’s goal and agenda clear, which are what a well-rounded character needs. Also another chance to show how ‘love’ makes Yuuri stronger
But instead this happened: Yuuri chose to end things and they decided to each their own, which is fair enough, but not logical. Given that the last 11 episodes were about them growing closer and growing together, Yuuri learning to let Viktor in when he’s anxious and unsure and Viktor learning to meet Yuuri where Yuuri needs him to be, it is silly that the last episode had Yuuri completely shutting Viktor out without an explanation and Viktor letting him do it without demanding an explanation. And then the next scene was Viktor interrupting Yakov right before Yurio’s performance to tell him he was coming back on ice because Yuuri was retiring which uh… OOC much? Viktor was shown to be a very patient man he couldn’t just wait until after the final? (honestly the only explanation that made sense is the one the fandom had come up with: he wanted Yurio to beat Yuuri so he can’t retire lmao). It was such a weird scene because then Viktor had 0 character development, 0 agenda. It seemed like he was only not skating anymore because of Yuuri when it was clear that he wanted to take a break because his old life was suffocating him By doing this, the show took the choice away from Viktor and made his character… flat.
And then what about Yuuri… what is his character development? I thought this was about him learning to believe in himself and in the support from other people and letting others (Viktor) in when he needs help but by making him end things like that the show just tossed his whole development out the window. Why did he suddenly choose to not retire anymore after he won silver? Does it mean that he actually believed he would win gold when he said he was retiring? Did he really gain that much confidence in himself? Then why did he still seem to think that he was only holding Viktor’s back and decided to quit? This was such a mess I could not wrap my head around it AT ALL and the more I think about it the more the headache gets worse. Like sure I know that the show has to somehow manage to find a way to get Viktor back on ice for the second season but there are better ways to do it other than destroying both of their main character’s growths. How about, after Viktor convinced Yuuri that he wasn’t going anywhere, Yuuri won silver but then had enough trust in their relationship and himself to jokingly say that next time he would win gold even if he has to compete against Viktor and Viktor said something like ‘that’s actually a good idea YAKOVVVV’. We all know homeboy’s impulsive enough to do that shit
Like this show was good enough and it was meaningful enough that the bad last ep couldn’t ruin it for me (and also because that couple skate HOLY SHIT) but it was very close and I cannot stop lamenting over the fact that it could have been so much better
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May was one of those months you feel challenged by everything and everyone around you, it was one of those months in which you wish things would go differently and even when you try to change them, nothing happens.
The month started quite uninspired, I don't know what has been going on through my mind, but lately I've been finding it really hard to sit down and write, my ideas don't match or don't come out and it only makes me feel frustrated, which usually ends up on me leaving the task for "later" and that later never comes.
What made it even worst was the fact that we had so many days off from school, I couldn't concentrate, I wasn't able to set a routine and keep up with it, I was being lazy most of the days and the days I really pushed me into doing what I had to do, nothing good would come out, I found myself losing my patience over the tiniest problems.
But one thing that was indeed good this month was the amount of time I spent with family and friends over those days off or the weekends. My social and family life has been in a peak over this past weeks and it feels amazing to spend time with them without worrying about what's next or what else I have to do.
On the other hand, we also received bad news, the kind of news you kinda already knew, but denied yourself from believing them, the kind of news that change the way you see and treat a person. For two or three days I was a crying mess, a part of my is still in denial, I wish I could do something about it.
This month was all over the place, it had its bad moments but also good ones. I laughed, I cried, I overslept and under slept, I did some cool things and others I don't feel proud about. Now, I'm craving balance, I really want to spend time with family and friends but also dedicate time to my projects, my new job and school.
We shall see how June ends up being as I've been working on something to try and balance my life a little bit more. Hope you had an amazing month and a better one that's to come, remember to keep on dreaming.
Mayte.
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2016 Games in Review
Welp, the worst year in recent memory has wrapped up. I don’t know if that rubbed off on me or not, but personally this was a very bittersweet year in gaming. Lots of disappointing sequels highlighted by great original games.
13.) Fire Emblem Fates: Birthright
I feel sad for the Fire Emblem franchise. Awakening had its problems, but it was still a decent game that recognized the fundamentals of the franchise. This game, on the other hand, decided “Eff that, lets get rid of weapon durability”. By doing this, they “solved” the problem of making the more powerful weapons, that you could now use as much as you want, have detrimental effects. It doesn’t make the game feel more strategic, but instead makes it feel like you are being penalized for using these stronger weapons, where in other games these were a reward to be used when your character had the stats to wield them properly, or when you had the money to burn. The protagonist also falls into the character trope that I hate the most: the useless idealist, who has no strategic insight or reason to be a leader other than “These guys are wrong, we have to stop them!”. Finally, the game still hasn’t balanced the stats formula, with only a couple units in the army being survivable. I should not have a character who focuses on speed be in the endgame and have a 50% chance of being one-shot by a character with a weapon triangle disadvantage. I could go on for many more paragraphs about subtle things that make this a bad game, but I’ll stop myself here. The game still does some interesting things, such as the myriad of stat changing weapons and skills as well as some of the classes, but it is unfortunate that they exist in a game that I don’t want to play.
12.) Undertale
Now, I didn’t get too far into Undertale, so I know I’m selling it short considering some of the stuff I’ve heard about in the later parts of the game. However, the start of this game is bad enough that I didn’t want to continue. The puzzles are not interesting, and while the random encounters are engaging, they are very one-note, making every subsequent encounter with the same enemy group nothing more than an annoyance considering you get basically nothing from battles. Speaking of which, the bullet-hell “combat” is inventive, but not something that I personally liked. Finally, and I know this is the most minor of nitpicks, the part at the beginning where you are told to not leave a room for a while has no payoff if you do so. I stayed in there for an hour and nothing happened, which is pretty surprising for a game that is supposedly as subversive as this one is.
11.) XCOM 2
More like XCOM 2-buggy-and-unoptimized-to-run-properly, amiright? This game solidly improves upon the base mechanics of it’s prequel, and introduces the genius character pool mechanic, however it suffers from the same problems that the first one did: Not enough customization, not enough steps in the gear upgrade path and a host of bugs (technical ones, not the Crysallids). Also, no controller support at launch was a bummer considering how natural that felt in the previous one. This is a textbook example of a game feeling like it was rushed to market.
10.) Fire Emblem Fates: Conquest
Take everything I said about Birthright, but add some actually very interesting map designs. The protagonist was far better in this version, they come off as cunning and overcome far more hardships than the Birthright counterpart. Still, the core gameplay is not compelling, and frustrated me enough that I did not want to play Revelations. I really, REALLY hope that the series can get on track, 6 through 10 are great strategy games, but I remain convinced that Intelligent Systems will continue to be satisfied putting more effort into writing wacky, trope-filled characters than actually making a strategy game that involves strategy.
9.) Zero Escape: Zero Time Dilemma
Disappointing is the best word for this game. I loved the first two entries into the Zero Escape series, and this does not deliver. The gameplay is very similar to VLR, but because we’ve seen it before it comes off as repetitive and uninspired, where in VLR it felt fresh and innovative, though I suppose this is only natural for a game that relies on twists and subversion as much as this one. The characters aren’t particularly well realized, especially the returning ones (And seriously Japan, do you have to put a character with gigantic, revealed breasts in every game? C’mon). The twists in this game range from jaw-dropping, to pretty stupid, to completely illogical and cheap. The plot also relied too much on a “get out of jail free” lore thing, and tries to make everything fit together by force more than by naturally introducing thoughtful concepts. Not a fitting end to an amazing series, and while I am glad that it was able to be made, it makes the series hard to recommend.
8.) Phoenix Wright: Spirit of Justice
This just felt like the series is spinning its wheels. The game focuses on the two aspects of the Ace Attorney series that I like the least: the spiritual aspect and Apollo Justice. As opposed to the previous game in the series, which had a good amount of focus on the three different attorneys, there is barely any Athena in this game. Also, for how much they advertised that Maya returned in this game, she is also barely in the game. Finally, the new prosecutor is completely unlikable with a super predictable story arc. Sure, the gameplay is fine and the story takes some interesting turns, but I play these games for the characters, and they disappointed in this iteration.
7.) The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds
When I first heard that this game was being made, I was furious. A Link to the Past is my favourite Zelda game, and a game that just aimed to recapture nostalgia and not innovate sounded like a terrible move. However, the game hearkens back to the original LoZ by being somewhat non-linear, and this works in its favour to create a fresh experience despite using basically the same map, and some similar dungeons, to A Link to the Past. Also, even though the nostalgia grab was obvious from the outset, I still fell for it, hard. Running around the similar areas, hearing the updated versions of the music just put a smile on my face. The biggest problem with this game is that it is way too easy. I understand this to some extent, it is a Nintendo game after all, but the puzzles and combat are not engaging enough to offset this.
6.) Pokémon Sun
The biggest knock against this game is the longer-than-an-Alola-Exeggutor tutorial. At this point in the series, there should just be an option to streamline the beginning of the game for veterans of the series. Also, the heavier focus on story made the game feel more railroad-y, and the Rotom dex sucks (I could go the rest of my life without having a quipy sidekick in games). Still, at the end of the day, it is a solid Pokémon game that adds interesting new Pokémon, and the Alola forms are a much better spin on older Pokémon than goddamn Mega evolutions. I wouldn’t mind playing through the game again with a different team, but unfortunately there is still ONLY ONE SAVE SLOT GODDAMNIT.
5.) Rocket League
I got to this game early in the year, and thought that it would probably top the list. Crazy how this year went, yeah? The only problem I had with this game is that it is so much better playing with people that you know, so I never wanted to play with random people. This made the game unsustainable for me, as I rarely had the time to get people together to play. The core gameplay is just so solid, and it does what many great games do in that when you mess up, you know what it is that you did wrong, as well as the inverse. The developers are also doing great work, pioneering cross-platform play and continuing to improve the game with free content. This game led to the most hype moments of the year, and remains one that I would love to go back to.
4.) Overwatch
This is the game that I spent the most time on this year, and for good reason. Overwatch bleeds colour and personality, with every character feeling unique and fun to play (Except McCree. Fuck McCree). The game does a great job of making each game feel very team-focused, with the expected pros and cons. Playing with friends is great, while randoms can be assholes. While I am not a fan of some of their business decisions, especially regarding the Summer Games event, they seem to be listening to the community enough to feel good about the game’s future. I would also like to see more content out of Blizzard more quickly for the game: more maps, more characters, and more cosmetics not tied to seasonal events.
3.) Jackbox Party Pack 3
A true achievement in gaming, the Jackbox Party Pack continues to impress. This pack doesn’t have any duds in it like the first two; every game is worth playing more than once. Murder Trivia Party has style, Guesspionage is a great concept, Fakin’ It is great provided you have 5 or more people, Quiplash 2 remains awesome, and Tee-KO may be the best game they have ever made. There wasn’t a game that I had more fun with this year, and the only complaint that I have is that it would be nice if the games supported more than 8 people.
2.) Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Holy crap, this was a breath of fresh air after Phoenix Wright 6. The art and animation are superb, something that is quite noteworthy for a DS game. The puzzles aren’t that deep, but are inventive and fun to solve. The story is a great example of trickling out information to the player in a way that makes them want to keep playing, and the twists and payoffs in this game are some of the most mindblowing that I’ve ever seen. It is an exceptional self-contained experience, and while I don’t necessarily want a sequel, I would love to see this team try to tackle more original ideas.
1.) The Witness
This is the best designed game that I’ve played in a very long time. Everything feels so purposeful, and for a game with no written text it conveys the puzzle elements perfectly. The game is also beautiful visually, and while the island is relatively small, it is packed to the brim with puzzles and stunning visual areas. The shading deserves special mention, as it makes everything look awesome. While at times the game was frustrating, overcoming puzzles that I was stuck on for days was incredibly satisfying. I’ve heard some disdain for the philosophy stuff that is scattered around the game, but for me it worked, as it wasn’t necessarily laid out in an argumentative fashion, but instead was just there to make you think. I finished every panel in the game (except for one), and even though I could probably play hundreds more puzzles, I still feel satisfied with the experience.
That wraps up the games that I played in 2016. 2017 is going to be a huge transitional year for me, as I am wrapping up school and plan on getting into the games industry. This will surely change how I play games and how frequently I am able to play them, but it is a change that I am anxious to experience.
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